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#[ // i lost my shit i love this thank you for making me laugh so damn hard ]
ferromagnetiic · 10 months
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Marry. But not because of romance. Only to be annoying <3
【 ⚙ 】  |  【 always accepting. 】 fuck, marry, kill meme @akagamiko
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The fact that he has been told by nine separate people that they openly, actively want to kill him, and he has not been particularly bothered by any of it, and for the most part, has been relatively nonplussed by the entire event, even entertained by it at parts.
But this. THIS. THIS has single handedly upset him more than ANYTHING else he has heard tonight.
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❝ ...Right.❞
He sniffs, sharply, drawing air into his lungs.
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❝ I'm going to divorce your SOUL from yer FUCKIN' BODY. ❞
Fuck: 0 Marry: 2 Kill: 9
9 notes · View notes
punkshort · 1 month
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i know who you are | 9. the end
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.
Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?
WC: 9.1K
Series Masterlist
A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.
Two Weeks Later
"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."
"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.
"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.
"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"
Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.
"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."
The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.
"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.
"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.
"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"
"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.
"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."
"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.
"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."
"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"
You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.
Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.
"Can I go with you?"
Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."
Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"
He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."
You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.
"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.
"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.
"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"
He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.
"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."
You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."
Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."
You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."
"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.
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You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.
"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."
With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.
He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.
You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.
Maybe you planned it that way.
"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.
"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.
"Promise."
It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.
"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.
"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."
Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.
"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."
Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.
"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"
"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."
Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.
"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.
As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.
"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"
Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.
"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.
The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.
As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.
"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."
Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."
Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.
They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.
He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.
Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.
The perfect hiding spot.
He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.
Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.
He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.
When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.
He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.
The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.
"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."
It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.
They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.
"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.
"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.
"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."
Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.
"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.
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To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.
"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.
"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.
"Are you hungry?"
"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.
"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.
"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."
"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"
"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."
You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?
Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.
You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.
Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.
When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.
You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"
"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."
You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.
"I missed you, too."
You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.
"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.
"I've got no fuckin' idea."
In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.
"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.
"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"
"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.
"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.
"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.
"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"
Joel nodded. "Yeah."
"Do you remember what you said?"
He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.
"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."
You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."
His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.
"I love you, Joel."
His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.
"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."
Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.
For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.
His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.
When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.
When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.
It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.
"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.
When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.
But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.
"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."
You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."
He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.
You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.
He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.
"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.
"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?
"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.
Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.
It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.
When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.
You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.
It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.
"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.
"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."
You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.
"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.
You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.
"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.
"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."
Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.
"Leave it on."
Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.
It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.
You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.
"You okay?"
You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.
"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.
His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."
"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."
He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.
How's that feel?
Do that again.
Tell me you love me.
I love you.
Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.
His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.
"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.
"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"
"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.
Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.
You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.
After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.
The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.
You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.
"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."
He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.
"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."
He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"
You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"
He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.
"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."
"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.
You chuckled when you thought about it.
"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."
"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.
"What do you mean?"
"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"
"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.
"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.
"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"
"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Yes! How did-"
"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.
"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.
"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"
"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"
"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"
"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."
He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.
"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.
"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"
"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"
All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.
"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.
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Three Months Later
"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."
You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.
"Maybe I'm a natural, then."
Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.
You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.
"Have any dreams lately?"
You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."
When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.
After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.
And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.
You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.
"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.
You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."
He grinned and holstered his revolver.
"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"Don't start."
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."
"I ain't flirtin' with you."
"Yes, you are!"
He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."
"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.
"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."
"Okay."
You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.
"You wanna give it a shot?"
"Pun intended?"
He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.
"Like this?"
"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."
Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.
"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.
"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."
You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.
"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.
"Here. Lemme help you."
He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.
"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."
"Her?" you teased.
He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."
"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"
"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."
"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."
"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.
Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.
"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."
You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.
For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.
"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.
"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.
You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.
When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.
"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."
His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."
You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"
He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."
You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?
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tightjeansjavi · 5 months
Text
warm me up
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A/N: the voices won this round! @strang3lov3 & @speckledemerald also, this was my first time writing game!joel 👀 this could also be show!joel if that's what you're into! This fic really got away from me today and I didn't think it would be nearly as long as I planned it to be..but that's just sometimes how things work out 😉 huge thank u to Bug for making me this cute lil mood board and I LOVE the deers!!🤍
~word count: 3.3k~
Summary: while on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
Pairing I game!joel miller x f!reader
Warnings: smut (explicit & implicit) enemies to lovers, implied age gap (non-specific) consent, cock warming, one sleeping bag trope, close proximity, using one's body warmth for survival, denial of feelings, mean!joel, grumpy!joel, reader is a spitfire and gets under Joel's skin easily, joel has a big cock! He is a big big man! teasing, banter, sexual tension, fluff, foul language, pet names: (darlin, sweetheart, and princess) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!
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Joel is freezing, shaking like a goddamn leaf. It’s ironic, given his disposition. You should have tried to retrace your steps back to Jackson hours ago, but the winter was unforgiving, and the two of you have found yourselves in a real pickle; a frozen one.
“I told you that we were going to end up getting lost out here, Joel.” You grumble alongside him with your arms crossed over your chest. Your teeth are chattering, and it’s grinding his gears.
“We ain’t fuckin’ lost, sweetheart.” He gruffs back and adjusts his rifle strap along his shoulder. “I know where I’m goin.’”
You scoff at this because if he did know where he was going, you wouldn’t be fucking lost in a fucking blizzard right now!
“Right. I’m sure you do know where you’re going, Joel.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath.
He whips around to face you, cheeks speckled in red from the cold and even in the lowlight, you can see individual snowflakes sticking to his lashes.
“Alright, miss ‘I know everything.’ Which way do you think we should go?” He awaits your answer with a cocked brow and his lips pursed together. They’re severely cracked and on the verge of bleeding from the bitter cold.
“Not the direction we’re currently headed, that’s for damn sure! Let’s just fucking turn around and retrace our steps.” You bite back and watch the way that his jaw ticks from your tone. God, you’re a real thorn in this man’s side.
“Retrace our steps?” He laughs, shaking his head to the side and sucks in a harsh cold breath of air into his lungs. “The snow has covered up our tracks, you idiot.” He’s so fucking condescending, and you’ve just about had enough with his shit attitude for one day. Your blood is positively boiling under your thick layer of clothes, and you’d much rather succumb to Mother Nature and her wrath than spend another minute with this insufferable, annoying, mean, and painfully handsome man.
“Fuck you, Joel. I’m retracing my steps whether you have a say in it or not!” You snap and turn on your heel before you feel a rough, gloved-clad hand grasp your upper arm and yank you back towards a hard and very solid presence at your back.
“Quit your fuckin’ yappin!’” He barks against the shell of your ear. His voice is rasped, crackling like a roaring fire. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me, you got that?!” His grip around your arm only tightens when you tried to shove him away, but he’s built like a fucking steel fridge, and you’re no match for him.
“Then stop being a fucking asshole, Joel! I’d rather freeze to death out here than spend another minute with you!”
You mean every word. Well, you think that you do.
He sneers at your attempt to wound him with your words, as if a man with a heart made out of pure concrete can possibly be affected by the means of your figurative little daggers. They ricochet off his body and fall to the snow, disappearing under a sheet of white. “I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you would just fuckin’ listen for once in your life! God, when we get back, and we will, I’m tellin’ Tommy that I ain’t ever goin’ on patrol with your ass again.”
His steel-like grip loosens when you don’t immediately bite back like he expects you too. He wants you to fight back, to call him names and send his own blood boiling because at least then he feels alive.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You nearly whisper and bite down on the inside of your cheek, tasting harsh copper on your tongue.
“Fine.” He agrees and finally releases your arm. “We’re gonna wait out this damn storm for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll retrace our steps home. Who knows, sweetheart. Tommy might have already sent out a search party for us.”
“Let’s fucking hope that’s the case. The sooner this storm lets up, the better.” You think you’re going to cry, but you push your tears down as far as you possibly can. You have to conserve your energy, after all. Besides, Joel Miller isn’t worth your precious tears. Not even close.
He begins to survey the surrounding area. The woods offered some reliable cover with the thick evergreens acting as a shield from the treacherous wind. The snow is still falling in large flakes, but he might be able to get a fire going if he’s lucky.
“We should..probably y’know, share a sleepin’ bag for extra heat.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling kinda silly in the moment because what did he have to be nervous for? His reasoning for sharing warmth was logical. It was just his survival instincts kicking in, right?
You, on the other hand, were unfazed by his request. Sure, it made perfect sense to share body heat with this man. Why the hell did he look so distraught over it - weirdo.
“Did Bear Grylls teach you that, Miller?” You look at him with a smirk playing on your lips. “If that’s the case, then we should probably sleep naked.”
That feeling that had laid dormant for so long, was beginning to reawaken and defrost at the thought of your warm, pliant, soft body being tucked up around him in close proximity. You were annoying, sure, and he could hardly tolerate your presence, but he couldn’t deny that you were a thing of beauty, and neither could his cock.
“No. Some reality TV star didn’t teach me the survival skills that I know, sweetheart. I’m jus’ that good.” He sounds cocky, full of himself and perhaps there’s a bit of eagerness detected in his tone? Maybe the dead giveaway is the way his cheeks flush, and this time it isn’t because of the cold.
You shrug and drop your pack and sleeping bag at your boots. “Whatever you say, Joel.”
He clears his throat and drops his hand from where it was resting against the back of his neck. He stares at you for a second longer than he would have liked to, and then announces that he’s going to go find some wood for a fire, and for you to stay put.
You wave him off and unroll your sleeping bag with a huff and begin to mentally question how the hell is this grizzly of a man going to fit inside of your sleeping bag? Oh well! Time to defy all the odds that have been stacked against you.
When Joel returns, he finds you already tucked away under the sleeping bag with your clothes neatly folded on top of your backpack. He managed to find a few fallen tree branches that would make good kindling, and some thicker logs for the base of the fire.
He avoids making direct eye contact with you as he crouches down and constructs a fire that he hopes to god will keep the two of you warm throughout the cold night ahead.
You already have taken notice of his suddenly quiet and almost docile demeanor with just your head visible and peeking out of the sleeping bag
“Are you sure that fire is going to last the night, Joel?”
His shoulders and back immediately tense from your question and you can already picture him clenching his jaw and muttering under his breath.
“Ain’t no tellin’ if it will last the night, sweetheart.” He stokes at the ember glowing logs with the end of a spare stick before looking over his shoulder at you. “Y’comfy in there?” His voice rasps, dipping down an octave and sounding much, much, lower.
“Yep.” You chirp. “Nice and cozy in here, Joel. Did I mention it’s very, very warm?”
He snorts under his breath, tearing his gaze away from you and focuses back on the fire. “Yeah. I bet it is.”
What you really want to say is: and it would be even warmer if you were here with me. But you refrain, and instead bury your face further into the contained warmth emitting from the sleeping bag.
Joel is hesitating, and that part couldn’t be anymore obvious based on his tense stature. Maybe he could just accept losing feeling in his fingers and toes instead of crossing that boundary with you. Or, he could man up and deal with the immediate feelings that would come as soon as his hands would inevitably touch your warm skin.
“Joel?”
Your voice tears him away from his thoughts briefly. “Hm?”
“Aren’t you..cold?”
Freezing. My cock and balls are about to fuckin’ fall off.
“M’fine.” He insists.
“So goddamn stubborn.” He hears you mutter under your breath followed by the sound of the sleeping bag zipper being pulled down. “Get in here before you freeze to death. I’m serious, Joel.”
“Fuck off. I said m’fine.” He grumbles and turns over his shoulder to look at you once more. His eyes catch a sliver of skin, a nipple peeking out from under the fabric as you were sitting up. His head whips around so fast he swears that his brain just got rattled around in his skull.
“Would you just be a fucking man and take your clothes off and get in here?”
So impatient, he thinks.
“You jus’ wanna see me naked.” He quips back.
“For fuck sakes, Joel. I just don’t want you to freeze out here. Is that so hard to believe?”
Yes.
“Jus’..don’t peek. Alright?” He slowly stands up from his place alongside the fire as he starts to shuck his heavy coat off his shoulders.
“Fine. I won’t peek, okay? Scouts honor.” You promise him and bring your hand over your eyes to cover them.
He’s grumbling to himself the whole time as he begins to undress. He bitches about the cold, his cock, and his nearly frozen toes as you listen quietly to the sound of his belt buckle being undone. He does not fold his clothes neatly like you did and instead they are left in a pile near the fire. He dashes for your sleeping bag, yanking the zipper down in a fury and climbs inside.
It’s a tight fit indeed with barely any room for him to squeeze in but he makes it work.
“Fuck!” His yell is muffled as he struggles to make himself comfortable in what little space he has. “Fuckin’ cannot believe I actually listened to you.” He rubs his hands together, blowing hot air between them.
“Oh, shut up, you big baby.” You stifle a laugh which earns you a displeased glare. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you just would have—”
“Do not start with me, sweetheart. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” His brows furrow and his jaw is clenched so tightly, you’re shocked that it hasn’t shattered.
“You’re all bark and no bite, Joel.” You mutter back and roll over onto your side so your back is facing him. You close your eyes and fully intend to get some much needed and deserved sleep, but the man beside you is squirming and making a big fuss.
“Darlin’ I know you ain’t want anythin’ to do with a man like me, but it was your idea for us to get naked under here..so all I’m askin’ is—”
“Just do whatever it is you need to do, Joel. Can you just be quiet about it? All I want to do right now is sleep, and your fussing about is making that really fucking difficult for me to achieve.” You snap.
“Are you givin’ me permission, sweetheart? Cus’ the last thing I want is for you to bite my damn fingers off if I touch you. So as long as it’s alright with you..” he trails off and you take matters into your own hands by reaching behind you and finding his cold hands and yanking them around your body. You couldn’t help but yelp from the stark difference of temperature from your body heat to his hands.
“You’re fucking freezing, Joel.” You state the obvious and he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I didn’t exactly have time to warm them up, sweetheart. My apologies that my hands aren’t at the right temperature for ya.” You think you hear him snicker under his breath, but maybe it’s just his close proximity that makes you hear things.
“Whatever. It’s fine.” You reassure him.
His hands are big, huge, and the skin on his palms and fingers are rough. The feeling overall is quite pleasant, and soon enough his hands don’t feel like an ice block - quite the opposite actually.
He grunts softly as attempts to make himself comfortable without pressing himself into your back. It’s proving to be a challenge as it is, and he has this feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, that this challenge is going to get the best of him.
“What’s wrong now, Joel?” You try to ignore the way his thumbs are gently stroking the space between the curve of your breasts and under your rib cage, and how his touch on your skin is beginning to light a fire in your belly, and between your thighs. His touch is gentle and it’s making your head spin with need and desire.
“I jus’—I don’t wanna make y’feel uncomfortable s’all.” He admits, voice rasping deeply. “I’m fuckin’ freezin’, darlin’ but I don’t wanna—”
“Just shut up and stick your dick in me, Joel. You’ll be warmer then.” You surprise both yourself and him.
His meaty palms squeeze you gently, fingertips kneading the flesh as he inhales a shaky, yet audible breath. The tight confines of your shared sleeping bag suddenly feel ten times tighter, and hotter. It’s suffocating in a delicious sense that you and Joel are stuck here together in this rather..unfortunate situation. You hate him, and he hates you, yet the thought of his thick cock nestling between your thighs sounds like absolute heaven on a plate right now.
Joel thinks he’s on the verge of passing out from your vulgar statement. It’s been god knows how long since he’s felt the warmth of a woman’s body around his cock. It’s been too goddamn long, he thinks.
“..well, if you’re askin.’” He whispers as his hands maneuver your body to press back against him. One strong arm anchors itself around your waist, engaging you in a warm hold when you feel his hard, broad chest pressing against your back. You haven’t even seen his cock, yet you already can tell that he’s big. The word big might not even be able to describe the massive size that is Joel Miller.
“This doesn’t mean anything. Right, Joel?” You ask through the thick growing tension that coils itself around you and the burly man beside you like a snake.
“Doesn’t mean nothin’ at all, sweetheart. Jus’ sharin’ body heat for survival, like you said.” He rasps and blows a hot puff of air against the back of your neck as his strong thighs wrap around your own. Even this man’s feet are fucking huge in every sense.
Y’know what they say about big feet? An even bigger—heart. I was going to say heart.
“Okay.” You squeak out as you relax further into his hold around you.
“Can you jus’ let me know if you’re uncomfortable at any point? Cus’ if that’s the case, I’ll slip right out. No questions asked, sweetheart.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his apparent nervousness. It was sweet, in a Joel-like fashion. Hell must have frozen over right then and there because the Joel you had grown so accustomed to, was anything but sweet.
“Wow. You sure know how to romance a lady up, Miller. Did Tommy teach you how to do that?” You couldn’t help but wiggle your ass back against him. The thought of reaching down between your thighs and touching yourself crossed your mind, but you refrained.
He laughed, and it sent a wave of arousal gushing like a river because his laugh was beautiful. It was music to your fucking ears.
“Shut the fuck up.” His teeth grazed at the spot where your neck meets your jaw. He bit down, drawing blood to the surface of his indentation in your skin. “I taught Tommy everythin’ he needs to know on romancin’ a woman. Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, big boy.” You nearly purred. Your back arched towards him, a suppressed moan desperate to be set free when his teeth marked you.
“I think someone is a bit too eager over this whole arrangement that we have found ourselves in.” He comments in a low rasp and his hand drifts down from your hip and nudges your thighs apart with a practiced ease. His heavy cock pressed firmly against your lower back as he let out another praising grunt from between his lips.
“Stop playing with me, Joel. I don’t want to be played with.” You hiss under your breath when you feel the backside of his knuckles slowly drag through the seam of your cunt.
“Y’sure about that, sweetheart? If you don’t wanna be played with, then what do you want?”
Frankly, he’s taking too long for your liking and you decided then and there to take matters into your own hands; literally. You reach between your bodies before he even has a chance to protest as you blindly search for his cock. Your warm palm barely fits around the girth of him.
“I want you to take your cock and stretch me open, Joel. Think you can handle that? Best not keep a lady waiting. It’s awfully rude.” You tsk under your breath.
He growls as his hips buck upwards into your hand like he’s never felt the touch of a woman’s palm before in his life.
“Fine. I like a woman that knows exactly what she wants, anyway. Won’t keep ya waitin’ any longer, princess.”
Joel Miller is a man of his word and just when you think he’s bluffing, you feel the thick press of the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds and notching at your entrance.
He groans against your ear, jaw clenching, and teeth grinding because you’re tight and hugging him like a fucking fist.
“Jesus fuck. That’s a tight cunt if I’ve ever felt one.” He rasps as you slowly pull him in further at the rate that he pushes his hips. Soon, he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed into your ass. His legs stay tangled through yours as his arms come to wrap you up in his hold once more.
“Fuck.” You breathe, lashes fluttering as he stretches you open. He fits snuggly, almost as if your pussy was making a home for his cock to stay there awhile, all cozy and warm with you. “See? Was that so fucking difficult?”
He shakes his head and you swear you can feel him grinning against your skin. “Nope. It wasn’t difficult at all, sweetheart. In fact, I think I’ll stay here awhile.” Yeah, he’s definitely enjoying this.
You smile at this, burying your face into the solid muscle of his bicep, pressing the lightest kiss there. Maybe you even nibbled on it, and maybe he chuckled and pulled you in even closer.
“Stay as long as you’d please, Joel.” You whisper softly.
Come morning the embers from the fire had long since died out, and the storm had since passed. You and Joel were still a bunch of tangled limbs and connected warmth by the time Tommy and the rest of patrol had found you.
Joel had since grown soft with his cock still buried deep within your warmth and his face was buried in your neck with peaceful snores slipping past his plush lips. His eyes barely peeked open when he heard familiar voices muffled, yet nearby. Tommy had just brushed a bit of snow off the top of the sleeping bag and pulled the zipper down when he was met with a sight that he wasn’t expecting.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled and shot his big brother a cheeky wink.
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runicarbiter02 · 1 year
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How would each CoD character react to you touching their cheek for the first time? (In a caressing way)
A/N: Oh my god, this is actually the cutest and I couldn't think of a better way to start off this blog, thank you for this, love! I hope you enjoy! ~ Hannah
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ALEX KELLER
Oh, this man is absolutely melting the second your hand cups the side of his face.
The goofiest damn grin on his face, corners of his eyes crinkling, soft laugh rumbling in his chest.
"How ya doing, sweetheart? Hanging in there?" Man is always concerned with you and your well-being.
Absolutely is the type of person to just completely nuzzle into your touch, soft sigh of content leaving his lips.
You aren't getting your hand back any time soon. Try and pull away, and he will absolutely pull the kicked puppy look. You can't bring yourself to pull away anyway.
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ALEJANDRO VARGAS
"Oh, is there something you need, mi vida?" This motherfucker and his sweet, smooth voice. Love him.
He will gently draw you in close with a hand on your waist, that signature cheeky grin on his lips. He'll gently take your hand in his and just press sweet kisses to your fingertips.
This will lead to him pulling you aside for a moment, peppering you in sweet kisses and showering you in the most endearing compliments in Spanish.
Expect to be walking away with a spring in your step and a flushed face.
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GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON
At first, he will look wildly confused, his brows furrowing slightly and his head cocking to the side.
"What's up, hun? Everything okay?" He signs the term of endearment with so much passion every time, it is absolutely the sweetest and most heartwarming thing. Any term of endearment he uses is always signed with more passion than anything else.
Once you let him know you just wanted to love on him, this cheeky little shit is flirting with you like crazy.
"Oh, just wanted to love on me, huh? Well, there's more ways you could-" He cuts his signing off with his own laughter when you playfully shove his face away, and he follows after you, making obnoxious kissy noises.
He makes it up to you, though, with the most affectionate kisses. He's goofy and that reflects in how he shows you his love.
(Can you tell I love Roach? I love him very much.)
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JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH
Johnny will take your other hand, place it on his other cheek, and will gently press your hands against his cheeks to squish his face.
He hums happily, reveling in your touch as his eyes shut and his lips curl into a smile.
"Always know what I need before I even do, mo chridhe." This man is so, so whipped for you. Looks at you with so much love and affection that you might as well melt before him.
Do expect this to end up with you wrapped up in his arms, snuggled close, the Scotsman whispering some of the stupidest jokes known to man to you in an effort to get you to laugh.
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JOHN PRICE
I have like a very specific image in mind for this one!
He tends to work himself to the bone, getting lost and caught up in his work, and its very, very hard to get him out of it. It's one of those nights where you find him hunched over his desk, nose buried in his work.
You walk up behind him, gently resting your hand on his cheek and he pauses, tilting his head back to look up at you.
Despite the exhaustion, his expression softens, the tender smile on his face highlighting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
"It's late, isn't it...? Mmm... Alright, dearest, I'll head to bed."
He gently grasps your wrist and tilts his head to press a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then to the pulse point on your wrist. It takes a bit more convincing before he's off to bed.
(I'm a bit biased, I'm a major John Price simp if you couldn't tell.)
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KEEGAN RUSS
Look, I firmly believe our resident masked men are softies, but they're all different in terms of their softness.
This man is a softie with you, but good god, is he suave and flirty.
"Mmm, what's up, kid...? Just looking for an excuse to see my face, hm? All you had to do was ask." It should be illegal how much this man's voice sounds like a silky purr.
Soft kisses to your fingers, knuckles, and the back of your palm. Fleeting kisses that barely meet, brushing against your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
"Always so sweet for me, kid."
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KÖNIG
(Apparently this man is a colonel? And from what I've seen, if he joined at 18, and if we take the average amount of time it takes to get to that rank... This man is likely in his early 40s. Dilf König? Dilf König.)
Masked man number two! Softie, but different from Keegan. This man is the shy sort of soft.
I imagine this would happen after he shows you his face for the first time. He grew up bullied for his appearance, among other things, and its made him rather insecure about his looks.
When you gently cup the side of his face after studying him for a moment, he heaves a shuddering sigh and averts his gaze shyly. But, the second you tell him how handsome he is, his face goes pink and he flushes shyly.
"Ah, meine Sonne und Sterne... You're going to make me melt." He then proceeds to kiss you softly on the forehead and tells you how much he loves you.
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KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK
A pleasant flush works its way onto his cheeks and he gives you that beautiful smile full of sunshine.
"Missed you, lovely. You been taking good care of yourself?" Sweet, heartless man that he is, worrying about you even though he looks exhausted after his most recent mission.
Gently draws you into him and just hugs you tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sighing happily. The second your cologne or perfume washes over him, all tension leaves him completely.
"Missed this. Missed you." Whispered words against your skin. He gently sways in place with you as you two embrace, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Fully cherishes the moment.
"How's about some takeout and we finally watch that show you've been talking about? The House of the Dragon, right? Hopefully its better than the last few seasons of Game of Thrones." You have a stellar date in as you binge the entirety of The House of the Dragon and make up for lost cuddling time.
(Gaz does NOT get enough love and it's criminal. Perfect boyfriend/husband material right here. I adore him. Also? Man is absolutely gorgeous? Best man.)
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NIKOLAI
(Russian dilf? Yes please! Underrated man right here.)
Late nights in bed, curled up with him are always the sweetest. Soft whispered nothings as you both lay together, skin on skin, fully content in a post sex haze.
He shoots you a lazy grin as you cup his face, his hand gently rubbing up and down the expanse of your back. "What's on your mind, мое солнышко? Laying there looking so stunning..."
Soft, playful kisses are placed along your jaw, a cheeky smirk on his lips when you begin to protest, laughter in your voice.
"One more round wouldn't hurt... We can sleep in tomorrow morning, Золотце." You know damn well you're going to be exhausted in the morning as he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin.
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RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA
(Rudy, my darling, my beloved, my SWEET! This man is also criminally underrated even though he's PERFECT husband material. SHAME!)
He happily returns the favor as you rest your hand against his cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours.
"Long day, cariño? Mmm, I understand... I'll draw us a bath and we can relax." He takes your hand, pressing sweet kisses to your knuckles before he draws a bath for the both of you.
You both spend most of the evening in the tub, you resting against his back as he holds you close, featherlight kisses pressed to your skin as you both talk about your day.
The both of you take such good care of each other, and there's never less than 100% put into your relationship on both sides.
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
Masked softie number 3: Tender and longing edition.
His night terrors don't often wake you; he's usually fairly good at hiding them. The first time he does wake you is during a particularly violent one that has him thrashing and crying out in his sleep.
He wakes not long after you do, sweating and panting, his voice hoarse from how much he had been crying out. Once you're sure he's fully conscious, you gently rest your hand against his cheek and guide him through a grounding routine: 5 things he sees, 4 people he knows, 3 foods he likes, 2 things he hates, and one thing he loves.
As he talks, you become his sole focus as the night terror fades into the back of his mind, the grounding method working wonders.
And when it comes to the one thing he loves, he shuts his eyes and presses further into your touch, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. One hand gently clutches your wrist while the other rests against yours, holding your hand against his cheek. He doesn't need to say it. You know.
You always, always know. And with a kiss to his forehead and your thumb stroking against his cheek, you let him know. I love you too.
[I'M SORRY IF ANY OF THE TRANSLATIONS ARE INCORRECT, I TRIED MY BEST TO GET THE PROPER ONES!]
Mi vida - My life; honey
Mo chridhe - My heart
Meine Sonne und Sterne - My sun and stars
мое солнышко - My sunshine
Золотце - Honey; darling
Cariño - Honey; dear
TAGLIST:
@floral-force
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 month
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> can i request one for manager and nika? kind of building off the head cannon that nika is SUPER protective. maybe an opposing player slips in a comment in the post game handshake line and nika hears and shit just hits the fan. because everyone knows that girl is scaryyyyyy when she’s mad.
─ word count | 1k
─ warnings | mention of manager shit talking (or rather truth talking cussss), a singular insult, nika being super duper protective, nothing else?
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THE GAME HAD been very intense, but in the end UConn had pulled through and won.
You had been there the entire time, taking pictures and watching the game silently ─ well, somewhat silently. You couldn't help but let out a couple snide comments that may or may have not been heard from the opposing team. But to be completely fair, they had been playing dirty! What were you supposed to do, just sit there and let them?
Absolutely not.
As the final buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted into cheers, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the hard-fought victory. You had been there every step of the way, capturing the intensity of the game through your camera lens and silently (or not so silently) cheering on your team.
As the players celebrated on the court and the fans spilled out of the arena, you made your way down to the sidelines, eager to capture the excitement of the moment.
"Y/N! Put down the damn camera and come celebrate!" You heard Geno shout. You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you put down the camera on the bench and going to join your team.
The girls were very enthusiastic, running up to you and lifting you up in a group hug, their cheers and laughter filling the air. As they pulled away, you felt Nika's arms pull you closer in a tight hug as you both laughed.
You looked up to meet your girlfriend's gaze, a small smile playing on your lips as you cupped her cheek. "You played amazing tonight,"
"Thank you, my love." She pressed a small kiss on your cheek before you heard Paige's shouts.
"God, you guys are making me sick." Paige teased as Nika rolled her eyes. She gestured for the two of you to come over so you could line-up for the post-game handshake.
You shared a knowing glance with Nika, both of you unable to suppress a fond smile at Paige's playful teasing. With a laugh, you intertwined your fingers with Nika's, the warmth of her hand in yours sending a rush of comfort through your veins.
Together, you made your way over to join Paige and the rest of your teammates, ready to line up for the post-game handshake. As you stood shoulder to shoulder with Nika, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the sight of your team.
As you shook hands with some of the girls, you could feel their glares on you. You just ignored it because if they were really focused on the game, they wouldn't have heard the comments ─ maybe, that's why they had lost.
However, as you reached the last player in line, you were taken aback when she sneered at you, her tone dripping with disdain. "Bitch," she mumbled under her breath as she gripped your hand roughly, causing you to wince.
The petty insult hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you were speechless. But before you could respond, Nika stepped forward, her eyes flashing with anger as she confronted the opposing player.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, her voice icy with fury as she locked eyes with the offending player. "The fuck did you say?"
The opposing player faltered for a moment, taken aback by Nika's sudden protectiveness. But instead of backing down, she squared her shoulders, her expression defiant.
"I called her a bitch," she retorted, her voice laced with arrogance. "Your girlfriend may be good with a camera, but let's see how she handles herself on the court."
Before anyone could react, Nika reached out and grabbed the player's jersey, her grip firm and unyielding. "You don't get to talk to her like that," she spat, her eyes blazing with fury. "Say that shit again, I dare you. Call her a bitch again and see what happens,"
The opposing player recoiled at Nika's sudden aggression, her bravado faltering in the face of Nika's unwavering determination. "Let go of me," she demanded, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
But before anything else could happen, you saw Aaliyah come over and grip her shoulder, telling her to let it go. Nika stood there for a moment, sending an icy glare her way for a couple moments before she pushed the girl as she scoffed.
As Aaliyah guided the player away, Nika's glare intensified, her frustration palpable in the tense silence that hung in the air. But before she could say anything more, you felt her hand on your arm, pulling you away from the confrontation.
"You okay? I'm sorry that happened," her voice was soft as you looked at her, your expression stern.
"Why would do that, it wasn't worth it. You could get in a lot of trouble-"
She shushed you with her finger as she sighed. "Relax, it's fine she called you a bitch and I was defending my teammate. Why would I get in trouble?"
You couldn't help but sigh, a mixture of frustration and admiration swirling inside you as you looked into Nika's determined eyes. Despite her reassurances, you couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of your mind.
"I know you were defending me, and I love you for that," you said, your voice softening with gratitude. "But things could have escalated, and I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."
Nika's expression softened, her thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand as she met your gaze. "I'm not gonna get in trouble, I promise you. And if I do, Geno would probably just make me run a couple laps and I'll be fine. So please, don't worry about me. I'm your damn girlfriend, I'm going to defend you."
You couldn't help but smile at Nika's reassurance, her unwavering loyalty warming your heart. With a deep breath, you let go of your worries, trusting in Nika's judgement.
"I know you will," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude and love. "And I'm grateful to have you by my side, always looking out for me."
Nika's smile mirrored your own, her eyes shining with affection as she squeezed your hand gently. "Always," she said, her voice filled with unwavering determination.
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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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lilmashae · 8 months
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*ੈ♡‧₊˚paper thin (walls) — s.jy
cw: oral (f), unprotected sex, roommate!jake, pet-names, some plot sprinkled here and there, NOT PROOFREAD, smut (so 18+)
a/n: hi! if you're coming back to this post // revisiting and wondering, "is something different?" it is! i've decided that for longer fics (such as this one) i'll be using a larger font to contribute to the readers experience reading. thank you for the feedback everyone!
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"fuck, fuck, fuck! ah — r-right there,"
"yeah?"
"c'mon, c'mon... oh, fuck!"
you'd lost count — how long has it been? too long. how many girls have come in (and out) of his room in the last week? too many — jake must be insatiable, the 'hook-ups' must be never ending. never ending as in the loud "noise" would never end, and you'd never get any proper sleep.
"look who's finally awake!"
"go fuck yourself."
" 'ouch! that's no way to greet your favorite roommate."
"you're my only roommate, asshole."
"i know." jake hummed contently with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, and you scoffed, " 'you like hoeing around? don't you have any hobbies?"
" 'love it," he paused, "nope. 'don't think so."
nope? no? damn right, the way those girls scream and cry out, it's a sport — a work out, a job, even. several girls would come in and out of your shared apartment, each of them having a different reaction to your presence. jake's type seemed to vary, bimbos and uptight, good girls, drunken sorority bitches to gothic, edgy ones. you began to wonder if he'd just do anything to get his dick wet. "right, well, i have a date tonight."
"so?" resting his head in his hand, jake batted his eyelashes.
"so, 'place's mine." if you were paying him any attention, you would have noticed the pout spread on his lips. "but, y/nnie— " the nickname makes you sick, you roll your eyes. "no buts! tonight y/nnie's 'gonna get laid." mockingly, you reply in a condescending tone, "booping" his nose before waltzing back into your room.
it's not that you and jake didn't get along—you two wouldn't have moved in together if that was the case. but even in highschool, before you two began living together he always had a habit of picking up strangers. "you're too nice, jake." you told him one time while walking home and he shrugged. " 'you think so?" he watched you nod as the two of you strode alongside one another. "yeah." blatantly, you mumbled under your breath. you'd always remembered that evening—insignificant as it may be. and it may have been because later that night you swore you saw jake sneak out with some girl, a big smile on his face as he waved up to you from your window. all you could do was roll your eyes, but as you walked away from the window-seal and into your bed, you somewhat wished he'd call you to go out instead.
"jake..." you walked out of your room, searching around for the tall australian. "jake," you walked up to his door, knocking once. no answer. twice, still, no answer. a third time—the last time before barging into his room. "ja—are you serious?" you deadpan. "where are your clothes, don't you have somewhere to be?"
"you're so mean, y/n. it feels like you always want me gone." he sighs, one hand (holding a towel) tangled in his hair still drying it as he sits down. "no... but, as of now, yes... i have a date." your voice sounded a bit more whiny than you had intended. "a date, or a hook-up?" jake laughed, looking up at you from his seat. "oh please, you have girls over all the time. i think it's fine for me to get laid for once."
"so you want me to leave... so you can fuck some guy?" he pauses. "for once?"
"i don't know, jake. yeah, maybe." you cross your arms and pinch the bridge of your nose. "why'd i have to leave? you're always here when i—"
"that's not the point, that's different and you know it."
"how, 'you shy or something?" it's not that, of course you're not "shy". but you'd feel guilty getting off with jake in the other room—and, sure, you've done it before; you've listened to him fuck at least a hundred girls, wishing it was you. you've also listened to him whine and stroke his dick painfully slow, debating whether or not you should barge in and drop to your knees. "no, jake. i'm not shy." you pick a shirt up off of his floor throwing it at him, as it covers his head and he laughs. "i think you are." jake gets up, walking towards you with a smirk on his face.
"am not."
"are... too." he's closer.
"no, i'm not."
"no?"
"no."
"prove it." your breath hitches in your throat—your faces are inches apart, you can feel his breath on your lips. swallowing thickly, you pout. "how..?" it's more of a whisper, and you find yourself leaning allowing him to lean into your lips. "jake," one of your hands rest on his chest as he has you caged between his arms. "my date..." "cancel it, yeah?" he whispers against your lips, crashing into them. they're pillowy and soft—his lips are just how you imagined, plush and full. "mhm," a muffled moan escaped your mouth as you feel jake's hands travel down your body, one hand cupping your cheek and the other pawing at your side. when he finally pulls away the only thing connecting the two of you is a string of saliva. "you're a pretty good kisser." he huffs, chuckling and you nod. "yeah, you're not bad." you mutter and he pulls you back in, this time his tongue swipes over your bottom lip before entering your mouth.
the hand that was once gently cupping your cheek moved to roughly unbutton your pants as he picked you up. "ah!" a small yelp left through your lips as he lifted you up, feeling his bulge through the wet spot in your underwear only made you squirm and whine into the kiss. "s'sensitive, hm, baby?" "shut up..." he sits you down on his bed, kisses still trailing down your body: from your mouth, cheek, and your neck—wet, sticky trails of spit coated your collarbones and stomach by the time he reached your core. "jake, c'mon, please." you whimpered watching as he continued to tease you, playing with the waist of the thin fabric.
finally, the path of kisses lead to your hip and then right-over your clit (which made you shiver). " 'smell so good, y/n." his nose prods at your clit as he loops his fingers under the material to play with your arousal. " 'been waiting so long to taste..." and those are his final words before diving into your cunt—moaning into your heat as his tongue laps over your folds. "f-fuck! y-you've been, ah! 'been waiting, jakey?" and he hums, sending waves of pleasure throughout your abdomen—a sigh of relief when his lips latch onto you, sucking and drooling. but right when you feel the knot in your stomach about to snap—"shit," you hiss. "n-no, jake, please." he pulls away. "s'okay sweetheart, 'want you to cum 'round my cock, princess, 'kay?" nodding feverishly, you sat up straight puling your shirt over your head and pulling jake into you by his sweatpants. "someone's eager." he smiled against your lips and you nipped at his bottom lip, bruising the soft pink skin. "well i was planning to get laid," you pause, "for once." now you've done it—you've got him riled up, and the same for him.
he knew you could hear him every-night, fucking girl after girl, after all, your apartments walls are paper thin. jake just wondered how long it'd take, or if he'd have to lure you into his bed another way. any how, it was worth it, you were worth the effort—being able to claim your sweet cunt as his own, that was worth it.
"fuck, you're so tight... 'relax f'me, cutie." jake groaned in your ear aligning himself with your sopping hole before pushing in. "you're so perfect, fucking pretty..." he kissed away the tears streaming down your eyes. the way he jerked himself before dipping his tip into your slick drove you feral (and so did the sight of his pink leaking tip)—the stretch provided alone was enough to make you want to cum on his cock, but the way he praised you made you want to hold out. with each thrust jake hit deeper and deeper, causing you to moan wildly, "fuck, m-more, more, more!" and, "please... i can take it,"'s echoing off of his bedroom walls. you feel just as good as he imagined, all those nights he'd spend jerking off couldn't compare to this one bit. "fuck, i'm 'gonna cum if you squeeze me like that, y/n."
"do it! please, cum inside..." and that only pushes him to give you more. " 'such a good girl, y/n... fuck! 'made for my cock, 'want me to cum, make you my girl, for real?"
"yes, yes, please, your girl, jake!" the aching feeling in your lower-body is satisfied as copious spurts of white coat your insides. "s'warm..." you huff out and jake giggles. "i'm a pretty good fuck, right? 'fucked you dumb?" your arms wrap around him and you plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "shut up, don't ruin the moment."
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guidelines and disclaimers! this took me like 4 days... so too fucking long 😭 anyways she's cute i like her !! i'm sorry if it's a lil lengthy ml
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How did you handle it?
1st part here
A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭
Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.
Warning/s: Read at your own risk
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Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.
She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.
Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.
"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.
"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.
"Shut up!" She took her phone.
KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.
"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.
"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.
"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.
These two are as mischievous as ever.
Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.
"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.
"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"
She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.
"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.
Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.
"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.
"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.
"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."
Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.
"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.
------------
Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.
"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.
"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.
"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.
"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.
Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce
In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.
While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.
Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.
The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.
Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"
KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."
Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."
The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.
KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."
KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.
The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.
"That's what we're talking about."
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Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.
Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.
Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.
In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.
"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.
"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.
"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.
Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.
"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.
"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.
As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.
Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.
Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.
-------
"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."
As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.
Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.
Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.
"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.
Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.
"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.
"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"
"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.
"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."
Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.
"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.
Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.
"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.
They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.
Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.
They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.
"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.
Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.
"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.
"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.
"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.
"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.
"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.
"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.
Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Nine — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Roza’s arrival in Windhaven brings some home truths crashing down on Reader. She just needs a hug, someone to talk to, but it all goes very, very wrong…
Word Count: 3k.
Warnings: None.
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Chaos evades logic.
There is no rationality to be found here. No sense to be made of the ample feelings that begin to chew you up and spit you out.
All you know, as you lace your breeches up and correct yourself, is that you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.
“Are you decent?” Roza calls, her back still to you.
You tie the last lace. Clear your throat. “All good.”
The closest person you’ve ever had to a mother figure turns on the spot. She’s absolutely beautiful — fucking glowing — her swollen belly visible through her thick coat, and her eyes alight with a quality you’ve never seen before.
Rhysand really is the mirror image of her.
“I actually cannot believe I just witnessed that.” She grouses. “And just when I thought the morning sickness had finally come to an end, too. My poor, poor eyes.”
Cassian makes a noise. “Roz, that’s a bit dramatic—”
“You be quiet.” She points a finger at him. “Your mouth has done quite enough tonight, thank you very much.”
The two of them stare at each other — Cassian wanting to be a little shit and push his luck, and Roza wanting to…
Well, to gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon, probably.
But then Cassian cracks a grin, and he’s bounding over to the female like an excitable pup. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
“Watch your language.” Roza scorns, but she happily accepts the hug that Cass yanks her into. “Gods, you’ve grown even more.”
You…you are rooted to the spot. Unable to move.
You want to go over there, too. To embrace her. But…but just seeing Roza makes the previous couple of months come hammering down on you in an unwelcome downpour of unwanted realisations.
You think: Roza caught me fooling around with Cassian.
And then you think: Fucking hell, I fooled around with Cassian again.
And then you’re wondering how — how you’ve let the recent events of your life veer down such a beaten, broken path.
It’s like Roza’s appearance brings a clarity that has been very much absent as of late. She’s always been a figure of reason and wisdom, always stopped you from spiralling.
And now she’s here, you’re looking at Cassian — your damn friend — and wondering just how much damage you might have caused.
He’s mid-conversation with Roza when he seems to notice you staring at him. Roza notices, too.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says.
You open your mouth, unsure how you intend to respond. All that slips out is a rasped, “I’m just…so glad you’re here.”
Cassian snorts. “Tell that to your face.”
You can’t bring yourself to laugh at the jibe. And it would seem that Roza can’t, either. She’s studying you in that assessing way you’ve seen her wear a thousand times before — the one where the motherly instinct kicks in, and she’s sensing something is wrong. It seems to be a subconscious act, the way she slides her hand over her bump.
“So what are you doing back here, anyway?” Cassian asks her, slinging an arm round her shoulders. “I thought the High Lord wanted you to stay in Velaris for the pregnancy.”
“He does.” Roza says. “But then I found out Y/N had somehow ended up homeless and that he hadn’t bothered to help, so he and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” She eyes you again. “I’ve come to move you properly into the cottage — including retrieving your belongings from your father’s house. I will not have you freezing your ass off in this dump.”
Gods, you love her.
She’s so fierce, so passionate. This is a female who housed three lost, rowdy children under her roof and offered them the same amount of love as she felt for her biological son. This is a female who does what she believes is right and damns the consequences. This is a female who doesn’t hesitate — not for one second — to help somebody in need.
She’s the exact kind of female you want yourself to be. And she’s the only person you wish to see in that moment.
“Perfect.” Cassian chirps brightly. “I’ll help. Let’s go fetch Y/N’s stuff from the bastard’s house right now.”
He takes a step towards the door, but Roza is laying a hand on his arm. She doesn’t look away from you once. “Cassian, my darling, I love you endlessly. And so, I say this with the greatest of adoration — fuck off to the mead hall, or something, and leave Y/N and I to have some girl time alone.”
“What?” He squawks in outrage. “But you just got here.”
“And I promise you we’ll catch up properly later. But right now, Y/N and I need some time alone.”
“But—”
“Do you want to stay and discuss the ins and outs of childbirth?”
Instantly, he falters. The change of tune would be comical if you were actually capable of feeling anything but despair in that moment.
“You know what?” He cracks a grin. “The mead hall sounds great right about now.”
Roza chuckles. “I thought it might. I’m taking Y/N back to the cottage. I’ll come and fetch you when we’re done. And if you see Az or Rhys, be sure to tell them to stay away, too.”
Oh.
This is going to be a serious talk.
You can’t remember the last time Roza was so insistent about it just being the two of you.
Probably when you got your first ever cycle, and she held and soothed and bathed you through it.
Will she still be so tender when she hears of the full scope of the mess you’ve created for yourself? You’re not sure you’d deserve it.
“Go easy, Cass.” Roza warns. “Don’t get into any fights.”
“Pff. As if I would.” Your friend lands a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Roz.” He says, and then he’s bustling out of the door without a care in the world.
You stare after him. Wish you could be that carefree. It feels…it feels impossible.
Gods, you just want to fucking cry.
Roza can see that. She holds a hand out.
“Come, my little dove.” She says. “Let’s get you home.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It kind of feels like walking into the cottage for the very first time, all over again.
You remember that night like it happened only yesterday. Remember how the cold had felt as you’d followed Azriel through the snow. The noises of bickering coming  from behind the door.
Even at eleven, Az had always seemed so much taller than you. You’d noticed that as he’d strode ahead and led you inside.
Roza had been standing in the kitchen, and she’d turned to you with a curious expression. “Oh.” She’d chirped, with more warmth than you’d ever heard from your own kin. “What have we here, then?”
You, Azriel had explained to her, had been set upon by a group of males far older than you. Az had defended you, and then he’d invited you to share his dinner.
Roza had taken one look at the dirt packed beneath your fingernails and told you to thoroughly wash your hands before taking a seat. You’d done just that.
And it was at that very table that Rhysand had introduced himself.
“I’m Rhysand. My father is the High Lord.”
Roza had scolded him for showing off.
And it was after that that Cassian had eyed you with a wild, feral look and simply said, “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle. I beat everyone.”
“Not at my dinner table, you don’t.” Roza had put a stop to that immediately. And then she’d placed a steaming pie in the centre of the table, and High Lords and arm wrestles were all but forgotten, and Azriel had been quiet and shy at your side, but dutifully offering you different foods before he took any for himself—
Standing at the threshold of the cottage, now…it’s like watching that entire scene play out before you. The ghosts of your younger, wayward selves feast greedily on a wholesome meal that lets you forget your harrowing experiences for a little while.
How things have changed.
You finally step in. Kick the door shut behind you. The smells and warmth of your sanctuary envelop you, and you know — you fucking know that you won’t be able to keep a lid on your tears for long.
“Don’t know how many times I’ve told those idiots to put the fire out before they leave the house.” Roza mutters, but she goes striding straight towards that burning fire and welcomes its warmth. “Although, I must admit, I’m a little impressed. I expected this place to be far messier in my absence than it is. Don’t tell me they’ve actually been cleaning—”
“Roza.” You cut in, your voice shaky, desperate. “About what you saw—”
She turns back to you. Says nothing as concerned, violet eyes sweep the length of your body. She’s letting you speak, but you don’t know what the fuck to say.
You open and close your mouth as though the act will make some sense of…any of this.
It doesn’t.
“I didn’t realise you and Cassian were…” Roza clears her throat. Pauses. “I just…what of Azriel, Y/N?”
You blink at her.
Roza’s very good at knowing things she hasn’t been told, but for her to know about you and Az when she’s been in Velaris this whole time, and when, as far as you’re aware, these things have been strictly kept between you and Azriel only—
“What?” You breathe.
“Perhaps I’m wrong, I don’t know.” She frowns. “But I always suspected that you and Az would be…something more. Your connection with him has always run a little deeper than with anyone else. That’s why I was so shocked when I found you…and Cass…”
Is she wrong?
No.
And fucking damn you for taking all these years to see it. Fucking damn you for only realising you wanted Azriel as more than just your friend when somebody else began to recognise his brilliance.
Fucking damn you for all of this, and damn Azriel, too, and damn everyone.
It all comes showering down on you in an instant, harsh and unwelcome.
You love Azriel. Not just in the way you love Rhysand and Cassian. You’re in love with his soul, his spirit. Who he is will always be tethered to who you are, even though he isn’t yours to cling onto. It’s been that way since you were old enough to harbour such feelings, and you’ve been burying it all these years, burying it under bad choices and regrettable actions, because all of that seemed easier to face, than…this. The fact that you were never able to control your heart, stop it from feeling such things, and now you feel them so intensely that it hurts.
Had your deal with Az ever really been about helping him, or had it been a selfish ruse under which you could have some small experience to remember him by when he inevitably gave his heart to somebody else?
Because you are just Y/N. You’ve always just been Y/N.
You are not Kaeda — Kaeda with the wings, and the strength, and the excellence.
Just Y/N. Just Y/N—
“Speak to me, my love.” Roza steps closer. “I’m worried about you.”
Your eyes blur with tears. Your legs buckle, and you’re bracing one hand on the back of the couch while the other flies up to cup over your mouth.
“Oh, gods, what have I done?” Your voice breaks.
“Speak to me.” Roza says again.
“This is all such a mess.”
“What is, Y/N?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what—what to do!”
“You need to breathe.” She responds firmly. “Deep breaths. Now.”
You try. Gods, you try. But your chest is constricting, and the air won’t reach your lungs, and all you can hear on a constant loop inside your head is one, bellowing sentence.
Everything is irreversibly changed.
Roza closes the gap between you and cups your face. The touch is soft, but firm. She forces you to look at her, and her face is blurred by your tears, but you know she’s looking at you how she’s always looked at you — with love.
“Tell me what’s going on, and I can help you through it.” She pleads.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You sob back.
She yanks you close, arms wrapping around you. She’s held you like this through so, so much. This is no different.
But it feels different, in that it feels worse. Not only is it possible that your actions could change your relationships with both Cassian and Azriel, but also that they could change their relationship with each other, too — change the strong, steadfast dynamic between your three closest friends.
You tremble, clinging to Roza like you may just collapse. Your heartbeat gallops in your ears like rhythmic footfalls.
“Y/N—”
“It all turned into a total mess.” You choke out. “I was feeling things — I am feeling things — and then Azriel had Kaeda and I was jealous and stupid and I — I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have slept with Cassian.”
“You did what?”
Those three, outraged words are not spoken in Roza’s voice. The sudden interjection of Azriel’s is enough for your sobs to catch in your throat.
Every single inch of your body goes cold as you step back to look at him. Blink at him. Roza fights to keep hold of you.
Normally, he would have hurried over to embrace her. But he stays rooted to the last step of the staircase. He’s staring at you. Only you.
You’ve never seen him look so pale.
“Az.” Roza sighs softly. “We didn’t realise you were home.”
He doesn’t look away from you — not once — as he asks, “What did you just say?”
Roza inches towards him. “I think we all need to sit down and talk about this—”
“You fucked Cassian?”
Tears spill over, roll down your cheeks. Your voice doesn’t want to show itself as you croak out, “Az, I can explain.”
“You fucked Cassian?” He’s repeating it like…like he needs to. Like it won’t get into his head any other way. “You had sex with him?”
“Yes, but—”
“Around the time you and I were doing similar things?”
Roza’s head whips round to you in surprise. You’d failed to mention that bit. After a moment, she rights herself once more. “Azriel, you should let her speak.”
“I can’t fucking believe you.” Letting you speak is the last thing on his mind as he steps down, storming past the two of you. You reach out for him, but he’s jerking away, heading for the door.
“Azriel, please.” Your voice cracks. “Let me explain.”
“Explain that you fucked Cass? At the same time that I was sharing such…such huge things with you—”
“At the same time you were sharing them with Kaeda!”
He falls still, hand faltering on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.
And then he glances over his shoulder at you with an expression so bleak, you’d do anything, make a bargain with anyone, to wipe it from his face.
“Except that I’ve never touched Kaeda like that.” He says. “Not once. I couldn’t.”
Before you’re capable of summoning an answer, he’s yanking the door open and thundering out into the snow.
Shock pulses through you, ice-cold and harrowing. You blink, and blink and blink and blink, and you think Roza might be saying your name, but you can only choke out another sob that grates against your throat, and then your legs are moving forward, stumbling out of the door.
“Az, wait!” You cry, but he’s already striding far into the distance. “Please!”
You try to move, but it’s like the snow is binding your ankles, grounding you firmly to the spot. You sob. Try to move. Fall. Get up. It’s cold and wet. You’re hurting. Everything’s hurting.
And somebody’s yelling — yelling at you.
“Hey!” You know the voice. It’s a voice you don’t like. But you can’t put a face to it until its owner is stopping in front of you, sneering at you. Lord Devlon. “What did I tell you about staying away from these parts, girl?”
You’re incapable of answering him. You’re not even looking at him. You just stare and stare in the direction that Az disappeared in, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I’m talking to you.” Devlon grabs your chin between his fingers, hard. “Insolent female—”
“Remove your hand from her face at once.”
He blinks at the sight of Roza stepping out of the cottage. Clearly, he had no clue she’d returned. And even he won’t speak out against the High Lord’s pregnant mate.
He drops his hand immediately.
Roza steps up to your side and narrows her gorgeous eyes at him. Her hand sits on her swollen belly. “Look at you, Lord Devlon — following orders like a good dog. Now, go on. Fuck off.”
There’s a slight twitch of a muscle as he clenches his jaw. He hates every second of it, but he obediently turns away from you.
“Oh — Lord Devlon?” Roza calls after him.
He stops. Turns. “Yes, lady?”
“I decide who can and cannot live in my house.” She stares him down. “That call is mine and mine alone. And if I hear of you giving Y/N any more trouble? I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
She turns her back to him with utter dismissal. If you weren’t so devastated, you might laugh at his stunned expression.
But Roza sees the pain in your eyes, and she pulls you into her arms.
“Come, my love.” She murmurs  softly. “Let’s get you inside.”
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az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
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chaos-in-deepspace · 21 days
Text
LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+
I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.
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Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.
Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.
Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.
Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.
"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.
He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.
You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.
He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.
"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."
"Unhand me you creatine!"
"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."
Zayne
Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.
It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.
Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.
"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.
"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.
"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.
"Might I inquire as to why?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out."
Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.
There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.
His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.
So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Playing with your nice ass."
"My butt is not a play thing."
You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"
You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.
"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."
Rafayel
He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.
If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.
Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.
You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.
"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."
"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.
You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.
"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."
"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.
"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.
"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.
"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."
"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"
"You wanna paint on my ass?"
"Perhaps."
"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.
"Never mind."
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The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate
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revehae · 4 months
Text
dear hyuckie
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pairing ↠ athlete!haechan x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, mc is a terrible person, stalking, unprotected sex, baby trapping
summary ↠ for the longest time, you've been obsessed with haechan and wanted him to yourself, but he hardly notices you. to grab his attention, you start sending him anonymous love letters.
wc ↠ 6.0k
a/n ↠ part 5/5 of the college-capades series!
don’t like it, don’t read.
so fucking annoying, you hissed to yourself, poking around the corner. 
your eyes were fixed on the boy’s locker room door that was, to your chagrin, being guarded by the basketball team captain.
who you never liked. jung jaehyun, you thought irritably. he was undeniably good-looking, you’d give him that, but he was arrogant. haechan would make a much finer captain. where jaehyun was a cocky asshole, haechan was none too prideful but enthusiastic nonetheless.
you’d heard haechan giving pre-game pep talks to his team and motivating them not to feel guilty on the occasions where they lost. he was a natural at lifting other’s spirits. obviously, he was the driving force in the team. 
not jung jaehyun, who leaned on the door, laughing at texts on his phone most likely from a bunch of girls dying to do him. though you most definitely weren’t one of them, there were many. 
and you happened to know one of them.
“thought i’d find you here,” you said, pretending to only now be walking up the path. given that his eyes were locked on his phone screen, jaehyun was none the wiser. 
jaehyun flitted his gaze to you. “how’d you figure that?”
“oh, you know. my hot guy radar was going off,” you flirted, your own words like poison on your tongue. but hopefully worth it.
that had his attention. jaehyun chuckled, pocketing his phone, then said, “i thought you said i wasn’t your type?”
“you’re not,” you replied flatly. “but i know somebody who’s a little more open-minded.”
jaehyun’s brows furrowed. the implications behind that weren’t lost on him. “are you joking?”
“nope,” you chirped, though you were absolutely lying. “rosé wants you to come over. she’s too chicken to tell you herself and i was nearby, so she sent me instead.”
rosé and jaehyun had raging heart eyes (and boners) for each other since the day they locked eyes. though rosé, your dear friend and the only reason you knew jaehyun, was scared that he was too much of a fuckboy. their interactions never amounted to anything more than flirty exchanges after a game, but they definitely wanted each other.
maybe it was a slight fib. rosé had said nothing of the sort, but it was the best lie you could come up with and you desperately needed something impactful enough to get jaehyun away from that door. your best friend would be thanking you later.
“shit, okay. what’s her address?”
maybe it wasn’t the best move to give a boy both of you barely knew your best friend’s address, even if she had the hots for him, but you were in too much of a hurry to give a damn about ethical decision-making. 
“and jaehyun,” you called out after him when he started to leave. 
jaehyun turned his head. “yeah?”
donning the role of a helpful acquaintance, in spite of how much you loathed this guy, you advised sweetly, “maybe stop to the store first. get her some flowers or a box of chocolates. she likes those. i know you probably don’t leave the house without condoms.”
jaehyun’s shoulders shook while he laughed and threw his hands up. “you got me. thanks for looking out.”
your answer was kind, though in reality, the only reason you gave him helpful advice was because you wanted to slow him down just in case rosé wasn’t home. you quickly sent her a vague text and unapologetically mentioned that you would make it up to her later.
jesus, the things i do for you, lee donghyuck, you thought dreamily. if only he knew how much you liked him.
for lack of a better word, of course. to be frank, you were enamored with his whole being. just the thought of haechan had your legs quivering and your heart thumping against your chest. thoughts of him were all-consuming. you couldn’t eat sometimes without wondering if he had ate.
given that you were running out of time, you quickly slipped into the locker room, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear before you invaded. fortunately, with jaehyun set on getting laid, there was nobody else around. 
except for the love of your life.
you heard a shower running, just as you knew it would be. you happened to overhear haechan mentioning to a friend that he would be in the locker rooms for a moment to shower and figured it was your time to spy. your footsteps were quiet, gentle. half of the time, it didn’t bother you so bad that he wasn’t attracted to you. it was better that way.
after tiptoeing around, you reached his locker, shoving a letter inside the slit. although it would have been rational to leave then and there, you couldn’t shake the temptations brewing in your guts where you desperately needed him. he was naked, just in the shower room. and you wanted a sneak peak.
against your better judgment, you crept around the corner, poking your head out to see if he was exposed. there was a long column of showers and just your luck, the curtains of the seventh stall were drawn. guess he wasn’t very shy. you could see a sliver of haechan’s dampened skin, bits of his leg and shoulder.
you licked your lips at the mouth-watering thought you’d had. given the chance, you wouldn’t waste a second to get down on your knees for him and give him the best head of his life. your plans were nothing short of vile, but a part of you liked to assume all would be forgiven when he realized that you were made for each other. 
not if. when.
when the shower came to a dry stop, you snapped out of your thoughts and took it as a sign to get out unnoticed, slipping away like a thief in the night.
but the letter in haechan’s locker didn’t go unnoticed.
well, kind of. he thought it was a joke, but he read it nonetheless. it wasn’t that far-fetched to assume that one of the guys were probably pranking him. granted, none of them called him by the nickname hyuckie, but they sometimes called him hyuck.
naturally, haechan didn’t think much of it until the second letter appeared, and it was somewhat more descriptive.
dear hyuckie, why do you wither in the wind and come to life in the sun, the letter started. i always think it’s unfair that nobody can match your undeniable charm, let it be on a swabbed court or with a bewitched crowd. kidding. others should envy what is yours.
there was more, of course, but haechan didn’t get to read that far before the letter was rudely snatched out of his hands.
“what’s that?” jaemin asked, nosily pulling the letter out haechan’s hand. 
haechan groaned, “dude, give it back.”
jaemin instead backed off, just out of arm’s reach of haechan. “guys, you’ve gotta come read this shit,” he said in amusement. “‘dear hyuckie, why do you wither in the wind and come to life in the sun?’”
jaemin continued to read until the end, blocking haechan’s attempts to steal the letter back while somehow also keeping the high-pitched, mocking tone of a woman. not too much later, haechan gave up on keeping it to himself, accepting defeat. the letter droned on about his performances on the court, how you watched every game with your eyes fixed to only him. how you wanted to be there to kiss him during his triumphs, but hold him during his losses.
haechan was used to fangirls. he was one of the most prominent members of a prominent team at an equally prominent school, backed by deals and endorsements. needless to say, there were more than a lot of girls that felt the same as you.
it was his first time getting a letter addressed directly to his locker, however. uproar was what he was accustomed to. this was quieter, subtle. you didn’t want to blend in with everybody else, and yet, you chose to be unheard.
johnny nudged his side. “shit, hyuck. looks like you’ve got a secret admirer on your hands.”
jaehyun laughed. “wither in the wind, come to life in the sun. what does that even mean?”
“yeah, i’m sure you wouldn’t have the wits to know,” mark quipped.
jaehyun shot him a glare while everybody else laughed at jaehyun’s expense. except for haechan, who was irritated.
“i thought you guys sent this,” haechan mused. “you know, ‘cause of the hyuckie thing.”
jaemin placed a hand on his teammate’s shoulder and jeered, “hate to break it to you, man, but nobody in this room wants to suck your dick.”
“fuck off, man,” haechan said, shoving him off. “i meant i thought it was a prank the first time.”
johnny lifted a brow. “the first time? you mean you got one before this?”
plopping down on a bench, haechan bobbed his head. “yeah, the exact same way. same delivery, same salutation, same handwriting, different content,” he explained.
“you scared?” jaehyun asked, teasing. 
“i’m not scared, i’m just a little worried. i mean, nobody should be able to get inside the locker room,” haechan ranted. 
“thing’s old,” johnny retorted. “might fall apart if they don’t renovate this summer. relax, man. it’s just some chick that wants to bone you. you should be happy bitches are lining up for you.”
haechan heaved a breath and gave in, letting the guys convince him that he was being overdramatic. it wasn’t that haechan didn’t enjoy feeling wanted, that couldn’t have been any further from the truth, but there was something in his gut that told him that you weren’t like the others.
you were far more dangerous than he would ever know, until the moment when it was too late for him to be saved.
but days of letters became weeks and haechan was becoming increasingly more alarmed. the letters multiplied, the content intensifying. though he wanted to tell someone, maybe get somebody to check some security camera footage, he didn’t want to be called a wimp.
so he thugged it out.
you, on the other hand, were over the moon that he was finally paying attention to you - kind of. you were sick of just being another girl in the arena. the letters differentiated you from the others. and at one point, they weren’t just letters anymore. they were bralettes and panties sticky with your arousal, attached with letters of you describing intricately how you got yourself off to him.
never once did you touch yourself without thinking of haechan, of how badly you wanted to break him and ruin him for the next woman (not that there would be one. ultimately, you were going to make sure that there wouldn’t be). wincing your eyes closed, hands buried between your own legs, you pictured his moist, dampened face, sticky with sweat that chased down his backside.
you wanted to tire him, to test his limits. you stalked him more or less everyday, peeking behind the bleachers to watch him practice. you knew what he could take, how far he could be pushed and shoved before the force became entirely too brutal and knocked the wind out of him.
sometimes the thoughts of him became overbearing. you couldn’t sleep because of him, falling behind in your classes because you couldn’t think of any that didn’t concern him. too much time was invested on keeping an eye on him during practice and following him on his way home. just to make sure he was safe, of course.
not that he had anything to worry about, though that wasn’t your definition of keeping him safe. any girls that dared deter him, even breathe in his general direction, you perceived as threats that needed to be eliminated.
you just had to fall for a popular guy. he was well-liked for a reason, and it went beyond his undeniably good looks. the charisma he wielded in the palm of his hands, how he dominated the whole court. the golden player, you thought with whimsical hope, pining. it was the title he’d been dubbed for obvious reasons.
nevertheless, he would always be your hyuckie. more often than not, it didn’t always register within you quickly when those around you referred to him as haechan, because he was so much more than that to you. nobody would ever understand the life you’d already crafted together in your brain, revolving utterly around him. where he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
nobody could tell you that he wasn’t reading your letters, even if you never saw it in real time to be certain. because when his eyes flitted around during practice as you discreetly kept yours fixed to his frame, when he glanced over his shoulder while he took the journey home, you knew it was because he was uneasy. almost as if he could feel you watching. 
haechan could feel you watching.
he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t be sure who exactly you were, but he knew you were there somewhere. it was a gut feeling that sickened him almost too frequently.
it started during practice, the final preparations for the night’s game. during said game that night, the wrenching in his gut only intensified. you were there, obviously, like you never failed to be. antsy, haechan struggled to keep himself together during the match, but nobody would’ve ever guessed from simply looking.
nobody except you. you’d learned to recognize him in the distraught that was natural around you, as if it was his body’s self-preservation instincts.
still, he talked to you for the first time that night. rosé evidently knew of your more than little crush on haechan, though she was none the wiser to how desperately you needed a fix. she thought it was an innocent fondness. your impromptu trick (unfortunately) thrusted rosé and jaehyun into a relationship, and when it became known to him that you had the hots for his teammate, he didn’t wait a second to introduce you to each other.
to your shock, it was a pleasantly good first encounter. haechan still felt the nerves, but reduced them to post-game jitters, something he made up solely to feel comfortable again.
it wasn’t like you were the secret admirer or stalker, or whatever weirdo that was obsessed with him. for lack of a better word, you were just so normal-looking.
you didn’t at all seem like how he imagined a debatably batshit stalker to be. haechan thought you were pretty and amusing, matched his personality like you’d met in a past life. haechan had seen you before, you were besties with one of the most popular girls on campus and his captain’s crush, but he never thought he would enjoy your company.
that was how it all began. you talked for weeks, not leaving without each other’s numbers. when he wasn’t looking, you pinched yourself over and over, wondering if you were dreaming. you knew that you would click. you knew that you were fated to be together. 
as annoying as it was to admit, you actually owed jaehyun. he’d done you a massive favor. though, when you remembered that you were the sole reason he was even dating rosé in the first place, you considered yourself even. nevermind that it was an inadvertent mistake.
you spent many nights on the phone with haechan. given that you’d commited yourself to learning everything there was to know about him already, you came prepared with more than a handful of facts, though you pretended not to know so that you could impress him. chess, not checkers, you thought smugly to yourself, noticing the envious glares of multiple girls when you walked hand in hand with haechan.
you were winning. and you couldn’t believe it. but just when you were starting to have a taste of sweet, sweet victory, your self-restraint crumbled.
you’d been waiting too long. something needed to be done to satiate all the carnal energies running rampant through your veins, and it was no secret what the cure was.
haechan could feel that borderline debilitating sensation stirring in his gut again. it was like a shiver chilling its way down his spine, an itch that he just couldn’t shake.
to make matters even stranger, he was alone in his apartment.
or so he thought. midnight loomed over the night sky, thick clouds draped over probably bright stars. they stared back at him, just outside his bedroom window that he’d forgotten to draw the curtains of.
haechan had that habit, you noticed. men typically didn’t have to worry about the same things that women did, locking their car doors at gas stations and looking over their shoulders when they walked alone at night. it was so naive of him to believe he would ever truly be safe.
then again, you were only as dangerous as he allowed you to be.
checking his phone, haechan noted that he missed a call from you, having fallen asleep nearly the second he stepped out of the shower. practice was long and rough; his muscles were sore. he had wanted nothing more than to collapse on the nearest flat surface.
for whatever reason, he dialed you back. he remembered you mentioning that you would be up all night, catching up on some classwork you never explained why you were behind on and he never asked, but he also felt safer when he heard your voice. the letters stopped shortly after he started talking to you and that idiotically wasn’t suspicious to him. he was making this all too easy.
your voice sounded a little surprised. “hello?”
“hey,” haechan said, voice raspy from drowsiness. “bad time?”
“no, never,” was what you said, because you were always down to talk, though needless to say, the call took you by surprise.
haechan thought nothing of it. he assumed you were working and didn’t expect a call this late. “sorry for missing your call. i passed out after i came back from practice.”
“it’s fine, hyuckie. i promise. i understand,” you crooned sweetly. you saw how hard he worked and you respected it.
“okay, cool,” haechan replied, heaving a breath of relief. then it hit him - that nickname and where he’d heard it before, and his heart stopped. “wait, what did you just call me?”
you swore under your breath, realizing that you’d officially blown your cover. you could have played it off, could have played dumb and innocently pretended not to know, but that shipped sailed the second haechan heard your cursing from his hallway.
haechan sat up, speaking your name. “why are you in my apartment?”
the call disconnected. haechan’s stomach was beset with unease, knots taut. somewhere entangled in the attraction to you was the inescapable feeling that you weren’t safe.
all haechan could hear for a moment was his own ragged breathing. there was no sign of you. no footsteps, no breathing. it would’ve been in his best interest to stand to his feet, or maybe just call the police, given that you’d somehow broken in. but maybe he underestimated just how threatening you were.
because when the doors suddenly burst open, there you stood, holding a gun in your hand.
“sit down,” you commanded when you noticed him abruptly stand. aiming the gun a little higher, you persisted, “i said, sit down!”
“okay, okay. i’m sitting,” haechan replied, dropping back against his sheets.
you took long, quick strides towards his bed, holding the weapon squarely at his brain while you emptied your pockets and cuffed him down. it was a graceless, clumsy exploit. for whatever reason, haechan watched you struggle, when it would’ve been his greatest opportunity to escape.
after a moment of struggling to cuff him with one hand to spare, the other too occupied with the gun directed towards his head, you leaned back to admire your handiwork. haechan didn’t even notice that you’d straddled him until you rocked a little, swallowing his apprehension with one gulp.
haechan released a shaky breath, calling out your name again. “what are you doing?”
“the obvious,” was all you said.
“it’s you.” haechan’s mind was ablaze with thought, remembering how you’d tortured him for all these weeks endlessly. “you’re the stalker.”
“i’m not just any old fucking stalker, hyuckie,” you hissed, bristling at that word. it distanced you from him. it belittled the connection sparked to life between the two of you. “i’m your lover. don’t you see?”
his lover of a long time. he never noticed you before, how you’d prance behind him in high school during your free time, surrendering your lunch time to watch him play around with his friends. how you always made sure there was a spare pencil on his desk in middle school, because he frequently got scolded for never remembering to bring one. 
you’d watched him turn into a beautiful young man over the years, but haechan never spared you a glance, not until you were forced to be slightly relevant in his life. you were sick and tired of being ignored. you were at the end of your tether, a lifetime of pining culminating in destruction. 
haechan’s head hung low, like he wasn’t even paying attention to you. it made your blood boil, rage and loathing seeping throbbing in your chest. “look at me!” you screamed. “why won’t you look at me?”
haechan, heart thumping violently, lifted his head to make eye contact with you. tears stung your eyes, reddening them. “you aren’t who i thought you were,” he whispered.
the audacity on this boy. “don’t you dare treat yourself like a fucking victim,” you snarled, seething. “this wasn’t a secret. not for us. i can tell from how you looked at me that deep down inside, you knew. our brains know the truth.”
haechan shook his head. “what are you talking about?”
“you could have easily snatched the gun out my hands and pushed me off. i’m not superwoman. but you didn’t, you didn’t do anything, because you knew what you wanted,” you responded, frantic, almost like you were deluding yourself.
but you weren’t - not this time. haechan sensed that something was off about you and still continued to talk to you. he watched you struggle, when it would’ve taken nothing for an athlete like him to throw you off, to overpower you and render you defenseless.
“i don’t…,” haechan trailed. 
“you do,” you sneered, vicious. “and you aren’t going to ruin our moment together just because you don’t want to admit it, hyuckie. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this. how long i’ve worked to this.”
you threw the gun aside, because it was never loaded in the first place, and you couldn’t fathom ever hurting him. it was strictly to keep him pliant, to make sure that he didn’t ruin the moment. you’d been planning this for ages. you’d be damned if you let it deviate in any way from the plan etched into your brain.
shifting your attention to what you were really after, you allowed your hands to wander up his thighs, pulling at his boxers. haechan’s eyes widened with panic. “stop,” he told you, fretful.
what made the moment even more bizarre to haechan was that you merely giggled. “relax, hyuckie,” you crooned, at least in your head reassuring. “i’ll go slow, i promise. i really want to savor our first time forever. make it something we’ll never forget.”
haechan’s alarm only strengthened. 
when you grew tired of his frequent protests, you blew out an irritated breath and grabbed the ducktape that had fallen from your jacket pockets, dangling it in his face as you threatened, “keep bitching and i’ll have to shut you up. i don’t want that and i know you don’t want it either.”
haechan quieted, pinching his lips together. he was in no place to deny you.
you removed his underwear, revealing his soft cock, although that was an easy fix. gently gripping his cock in your palm, you began to fist him to life, a sensitive little sigh breaking out of him at the first touch of your supple hand.
the whiplash haechan was getting was jarring and he felt nothing short of conflicted. on the one hand, you were his daring stalker, the one sending him dubious letters alongside the inappropriate clothing and used sex items. he should’ve darted the second he had a chance. but on the other, he found himself genuinely starting to grow attached to you, and you seemingly knew what to do with your hands.
in a matter of moments, haechan was very much hard, and it was much simpler than you would’ve thought to get him up, all things considered. all it took was squeezing his balls a little.
you were eyeing him like a predator and it made haechan feel justifiably uncomfortable. many nights were spent with a thick toy stuffed between your legs in lieu of his stiff cock, your eyes fluttering closed, with you moaning his name as you imagined you were riding the soul out of him. the same toys you would send to him, showing him just how badly he’d ruined you.
none of it was in vain. you finally had the real deal right in front of you, cock as thick and delicious as you imagined it to be, and the sight was mouth-watering.
you grabbed haechan’s jaw, correcting his gaze, and said assertively, “eyes on me.”
it was very pleasing when he obeyed, keeping his eyes fixed to your frame as you undressed. underneath the thick jacket you’d worn to stuff all of your supplies, you were sporting nothing but a racy set of lingerie.
haechan visibly gulped and you giggled, never bothering to cloak yourself amusement. just like he couldn’t cloak his desire, no matter how much he balked. “do you like it, hyuckie?” you asked, cocking your head. “i wore it just for you.”
as of right now, it would’ve been in his best interest to tell you what you wanted to hear. that was what this was all about. you were claiming this moment as a rendezvous between lovers, even if haechan didn’t quite reciprocate your feelings, and you wanted him to feed into your delusions.
but it helped that you were stunning, and if you’d done this the normal way, haechan probably would’ve voluntarily slept with you. he mustered the courage to speak, “you’re gorgeous.”
“don’t flatter me,” you joked, glancing to the mattress as you giggled, playing coy. “well, if you like it so much, then i guess i’ll keep it on.”
like he was shy or something, haechan just nodded his head to show that he understood.
though it was you that had terrified him out of speaking in the first place, you prodded him on, asking, “do you want to touch me, hyuckie?”
“touch you how?” haechan knew the answer, it was obvious at this point, but he was reluctant. 
again, you giggled, twinkling with mischief. you freed one of his hands and grabbed it, slipping it right under your panties, and made a noise when you felt his warmth against your aroused, aching core. “see, i’m so wet for you,” you whispered, sticking his hand back out and bringing his fingers to his lip. “taste.”
it did haechan no good to refuse you of what you wanted, so he opened his mouth, sucking your arousal off of his own fingers. 
you watched him attentively. “do i taste good?”
when he nodded, the brightest smile slipped onto your lips. for the longest time, you’d imagined riding his face into oblivion, but that would have to be scheduled for another time. right now, you wanted to ride his cock.
without a second thought, you grabbed haechan’s cock in your hand, slipping your panties to the side just enough so that you could sink down on his size. you moaned immediately, and so did haechan, his lips parted.
something about his cock just scratched something in your brain. he was much warmer than the dildos you played make-believe with, and a little thicker, too. you took your sweet, precious time to sink down on him completely, going slow and steady because you wanted to linger in the heat of him.
haechan was wallowing in the kneading warmth of your tight pussy way too much to realize that you hadn’t even thought of a condom. all of the little things you brought for this sexcapade, from the duct tape to the gun, and not a single condom was in sight.
“you know, i’ve been saving myself for you,” you confessed, staring haechan plain in the eye. 
knowing just how committed you were to making a life with him through haechan for a loop. “you did?” he asked.
“why are you surprised? haven’t you been reading my letters?” you questioned, grinning. your heart was warm and there was nothing that could be done to undo your ecstasy. “i’ll never want anyone as much as i want you, hyuckie. there’s no point in other guys. i only see you.”
if this situation had unfolded any differently, your feelings and devotion would be something haechan was lucky enough to have, but he knew your true, reckless nature. it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t beautiful, not like you thought it was inside of your head. it was creepy and it was off-putting, and you were a threat.
but you had been blind to reality for so long that you didn’t realize how unlawful your behavior really was, and if you did realize, you didn’t care. you were numbed by love, driven by fear of losing the love of your life to an undeserving whore.
leaning to grab the tiny little key perched on his nightstand, you decided haechan had earned to have his other hand uncuffed, though it was really because you wanted him to touch you. you grabbed his wrists, guiding his hands flat against your hips, and told him to keep them there.
even though haechan wanted to be terrified, and part of him was exactly that, he couldn’t deny that he was enamored with how your pussy squeezed him for dear life. you heard the little noises of his that filled the air, the desperate, shaky moans, and knew what he wanted.
all you ever wanted was for the longing to be mutual and at least, how it occurred to you in your mind, you were finally starting to get what you always wanted. it drove you crazy, hearing those pitched whines of your name from his own mouth.
he’s going to be mine forever. i’ll make sure of it, came your raging thoughts, and though they warred endlessly over him, your whole being agreed on one thing.
lee donghyuck belonged to you, and anyone who dared try to steal what was rightfully yours would be eradicated by any means necessary.
“i love you so much,” you admitted, even though it wasn’t a secret. you had poured out your heart to him through your letters, but the heat and passion of the sex made you even more vulnerable. “it’s okay you don’t feel the same way right now, because you will. one day, you’ll love me so much, you won’t even think of another girl.”
haechan said nothing, maybe blocking out your crazy rambles, maybe it was all white noise to him. what you did know, though, was that he couldn’t escape the undiscriminating reins of temptation. you felt how he tried to match your thrusts, grinding his cock into your pussy from below. he might’ve hated how crazy you were, but he loved how you gushed around his cock.
through the misty haze of pleasure, everything else failed to matter. he could only think with his dick, about how you were pulsing around him, the sweet sounds your pussy made as it wrapped around him with all the desire a human could possess.
you could feel his quick, hot breaths, practically hear his heart begging for a break. his face was flushed, warm and red all over, his hair sticking to his face. sweaty moisture was inescapable, cooling down his back and up his face. your attention was fixed to his plush lips, though, wanting to kiss them desperately.
and that was exactly what you did. you anchored yourself on his shoulders, pressing your lips to haechan’s mouth as you continued to bounce on his perfect, thick cock, wanting to suck the very last breath out of him. haechan didn’t fight it, because in the heat of the moment, when tangled in the highs of sex, the windows of judgment were far too cloudy.
you hated that you could feel that fever in your gut already, though from the looks of it, you weren’t alone in your need for climax. haechan’s hips moved quicker, ravenous. he needed to cum like he needed air to breathe, and that was exactly what you wanted. if he depended on you, he would never need anybody else ever again.
whatever haechan wanted, you were willing to give to him, even if it meant going to the ends of the earth and back. because you needed him too, and you would never truly be happy until you had him right where you wanted him, wrapped around your finger.
his face tensed with pleasure, his hold on your hips getting increasingly tighter as he chased orgasm. he was practically doing all of the heavy-lifting for you, a slave to his temptations, just like every other man you’d ever met. i know all of your strengths, hyuckie, you crooned in your head. but i know all of your shortcomings, too. they’re what make you so human.
“fuck,” haechan whined, defeat heavy on his face. “i’m so close, fuck. i’m gonna cum.”
i know you are. you reached for his hand, begging, “cum with me, hyuckie. please. please, please, please.”
haechan slipped his fingers through yours, overcome by the warmth stretching through his body and tensing his muscles. he couldn’t think properly, not through the blinding mist of satisfaction.
and the two of you came just like that, hand in hand, moving your hips in a true, desperate sync that only lovers would ever know. you whined that name while haechan cried out yours, neither of you stopping in your tracks until the fog passed. haechan’s warm, plentiful cum filled your cunt, your spasming pussy milking him for every bit.
you couldn’t think of a time where you’d been more thrilled. you’d just lost your virginity to the only man you’d ever loved, and the only man you would ever love, and it was like heaven. you were in love with that gone fucking stare in his eyes, no thought or soul behind them.
you grinned with contentment. you did that. you broke that out of him. 
even after the high started to fade, you didn’t want to move off of his softening cock, keeping all of his cum buried there for a minute. you gazed to haechan, a pleading gleam in your stare as you whispered, “i don’t want you to leave me.”
haechan blinked, starting to sober. all his apprehensions came back the second he realized what he’d done. he said your name and all, attempting to let you down gently, “listen, you’re, uh… great and all. this was great. but...”
you faked a pout, because you weren’t completely an idiot. you saw this coming. even giving haechan the best sex of his life wouldn’t make him fall in love for you. you cut him off, “are you really going to abandon your own baby, hyuckie? even if you do, it’s okay, because i’ll always carry a piece of you… inside me.”
there was a smug, sly smile on your lips. not even the pleasure of the sex couldn’t rival the satisfaction of watching the realization dawn on his face.
oh, hyuckie, you sighed to yourself. you’re a fool if you thought you were getting rid of me that easily.
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pennylanewrites · 1 year
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[love in the dark] levi ackerman x f!reader
cw + what to expect: angsty levi thinking he’s not good enough for you, self deprecation, talks of a family and kids, nudity (not sexual), brief mentions of battle scars, swearing, jealousy, alcohol consumption, eventual comfort
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levi hated everything he loved about you. you were so loud and talkative and bubbly. always smiling, despite the chaos around you. always caring and laughing and mumbling made-up melodies.
he hated that other people loved those parts of you too. he hated the way erwin would light up when you entered the room, that he somehow found ways to spend more time than needed with you, that hange would tease him playfully about his crush on you, a simple cadet.
but what he hated the most was that he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t kick the living shit out of erwin and punch hange’s stupid face, scream how much he loves you.
because you were a cadet. levi was a captain. it was so inappropriate, him breaking every possible rule and code of honour to be with you.
today was a very bad day. many scouts had lost their lives in an expedition to capture two titans for research. the remaining ones needed an uplift, erwin thought. and now squad leaders, captains, scouts and the fucking commander were sitting in a circle drinking wine.
you couldn’t handle your alcohol. levi was the first person to introduce you to wine, and then whiskey. that was also the first time levi felt old. how young were you that you had never tasted alcohol before?
he smiled to himself at the memory, but the smile faltered when he looked up to see erwin helping you to a couch. you gracefully thanked your commander, slightly embarrassed at how dizzy you were. petra, your friend, looked between you and the commander, giving you a suggestive wiggle of the brows. that didn’t go unnoticed by your captain, whose hand slipped as he poured wine in petra’s glass, turning her white pants a pale hue of red.
something snapped inside of levi as he drank glass after glass of sweet red wine. erwin had so much to offer to you. money, a home, a family. you were listening intently as erwin explained the rules of a card game to you, peering over his shoulder as you sat on the couch and he on the floor.
don’t let your head fall on his shoulder. don’t let your-
a gasp came from levi’s left. of course it was fucking hange.
“i must be boring you.” erwin chuckled when he realised you were falling asleep. “i’ll take you to your dorm.” levi reached the couch with two big steps, protectively standing between you and erwin as you got up.
“i’ll take her.” he was throwing daggers at erwin with his gray eyes, and erwin was surprisingly returning the gaze.
“you don’t have to, captain. take your rest today.” erwin was not giving it up. he gave levi a pleading look, as if saying let me have this, friend.
you’re not my fucking friend, replied levi.
“she’s my soldier, erwin.” you pulled on levi’s jacket, after making sure no one saw. a silent please stop. “lead the way, cadet. you can walk, i assume.” he was cold. more than usual, barely letting you say your good nights to the room.
was he mad at you? you weren’t the one making advances, it was erwin. you didn’t know how to politely turn your commander down, nor did the alcohol running through your veins allow you to.
“your room is that way, is it not?” levi stopped sharply, making you hit his back.
“levi,” when had you ever slept in your room the last two years? “are you mad at me?”
he sighed and turned around, still alert for any guards, or even worse, erwin and hange showing up.
“you’re drunk.” was all he said before walking again, signaling for you to follow. he was silent the rest of the way, silent as he stepped out of his clothes, silent as he grabbed a towel.
“can we take a bath together?” you asked hopefully. deep down you had a feeling he would turn you down. levi was always sour after failed expeditions.
“i want to go to sleep tonight, you take too damn long in the bath.” he was right, but the way he said it made it sound like he was accusing you of being a serial killer.
“okay. you go then, i showered before.” you smiled softly and started taking your clothes off to lay on the clean linen sheets.
levi thought about tonight over and over as he sat in the hot water. he didn’t mean to snap at you, or be so mean. he was pushing you away and into erwin’s arms.
erwin could give you the world. levi could not.
and you deserved the damn world.
he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you taking up the entirety of the bed, stark naked, like you always did.
he loved everything about your body. every curve, every dip, every beauty mark. he loved the healed pink scars on your legs and back, he loved kissing them and caressing them every time you cried that they were ghastly.
he hated what he was about to do.
“don’t you dare.” your voice was quavering. you didn’t dare look away from the ceiling.
“dare what?” levi put his boxers on and tried pushing you to the wall so he could lie down. why are you crying?
“do what you’re about to do, levi.” you moved so he could sit next to you and you both rested your backs on the cold wall.
“if you know what i’m about to do, you also know why.”
“oh, eyebrows is flirting with my girlfriend. time to ruin a perfectly fine two-year relationship.” you were mocking him. he was almost mad at you, but you were trying so hard not to cry.
“that’s not it.” he muttered. god, he hated talking about these things. “i can’t…”
i can’t give you enough.
“can’t what, levi? can’t love me anymore?”
“i can’t be what you need.” he sighed and turned away. why the fuck were his eyes burning and watering now?
“what are you talking about?”
“do you want kids, y/n?”
you let out a surprised laugh.
“levi-”
“do you?”
“well, yeah. not for like, ten years, but sure.”
“there you have it.”
“what, are you impotent or something?” you tried making light of the situation, because truly, you had no idea how to approach this. so you resorted to humour, hoping levi would snap out of it too.
“no, i’m just not cut out for that family crap.” he was standing up and walking around the room now, and he was making you dizzy. “erwin is, though. erwin wants a family and three children, did you know?”
you did know. you still shook your head no.
“and he has money to raise them. hell, he has a house in the countryside, and servants.”
“well, good for him. i hope he finds a wife soon.”
“are you fucking stupid, y/n?” you hated when he talked like that. “you’re 22 years old, god damn it!”
“so?”
“other women your age are already married and have a second kid on the way. not wasting their days away fighting titans, risking their lives!”
“i didn’t join the scouts to find a husband, levi!” you were crying. god, he hated it so much. what was he even doing. levi regretted ever opening his mouth.
“don’t you understand, erwin is your way out! you’re wasting your time with me. your life.”
“levi…” now you finally understood. it wasn’t that he was jealous of erwin flirting with you. well, that too, but he was jealous of the life erwin was living. “levi, i love you.”
“y/n, i really don’t know what you’re doing with me.” he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. you shifted on the bed, until your legs were around his and your cheek resting on his back.
“i know you don’t get it, but you’re giving me exactly what i need.”
“and what is that?”
your hand fell on top of his, and you intertwined your fingers before he could take it away.
“you give me life, levi. and that’s more than i could ask for. i know you’re scared that you’ll die, or i will, but that’s our purpose. i joined the scouts knowing the risks.”
“i just want you to live properly. peacefully.”
“so be my peace.” you whispered in his ear and got up, sitting down again on his lap. “and don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me.”
“i know i’m not, y/n.”
“i don’t care, then. i love you, i don’t want to lose this, ever. i don’t care that i’m too young, or at child-bearing age or whatever other stupid crap you’ll come up with.” he smiled softly at you, letting his forehead fall against yours.
“promise you won’t die, then?” you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before replying.
“i promise.”
“i love you.”
“good. don’t ever do that shit again, levi.”
“don’t swear.” he muttered and guided you to lie down, still on top of him. you could feel your heartbeats turn to one as you lay in silence. “i’m sorry, y/n.”
“that’s okay. just know i wouldn’t trade you for anything. for anyone.”
“really?” his arms tightened around you. a form of saying, me neither. you’re my everything.
“yeah, i like my men to have thin eyebrows.”
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2K notes · View notes
heavyhitterheaux · 9 days
Text
Touch Me, Tease Me (NSFW)
First Lady of Private Garden Fic
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AN: Pure filth with a sprinkle of fluff 🥰
Synopsis: One thing that you can always do is help Jack relax and turn his bad mood around
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Do not engage if underage
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
The time on your phone read 10:26 PM as you heard the front door open letting you know that your husband was back.
Urban had sent you a text about 45 minutes ago telling you that Jack was in a mood, but he couldn't figure out why and as much as he tried to get it out of him he couldn't. So, his next best option was to tell you in the hopes that you could get to the bottom of what was wrong and make him feel better. 
The bedroom door was open and Jack didn't even greet you as he walked in despite you speaking to him first.
“Hey babe.”
Instead, he simply slipped off his New Balances and laid on top of you with you letting out a yelp because you weren't expecting him to do so.
His head was on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and he hugged you tighter.
“Hmm, smush? You wanna talk about it?” You asked him and he immediately shook his head no.
“Now you know we don't do that around here. We talk about how we're feeling so it doesn't cause a shitstorm later.” You said as you started playing in his hair.
Jack lifted his head to peek at you and you simply kissed his nose while giving him a small smile.
“So spill It.”
“I just missed my wife. I didn't want to do anything today.” He finally confessed as you pinched his cheek.
“You're so cute, but you're back now so you need to relax. Did you eat?”
“Yes. Urban made me.”
You made a note in the back of your mind to text him and thank him because knowing Jack and how busy he tends to get, it wouldn't be unlike him to forget to eat.
“Good and you aren't doing anything tomorrow so you can sleep.”
“Baby, we have six kids. What is sleep?” He asked while raising an eyebrow at you. 
“I… well I'll text Clay to see if he can take them out tomorrow so you can rest.”
“If you ask him he'll say yes. If I ask him, I'll have to go through my mom.”
“Jackman, you are so dramatic. Clay loves spending time with them.”
“Don't you remember last time? He dropped The triplets off 2 hours early.”
“Well yeah because they ate him out of a house and home.”
“They're going to summer camp because they can be fine all school year and the MINUTE that the last damn bell rings on the last day of school they act like we haven't fed them since birth. Talking about ‘daddy, I'm hungry’ when they ate less than 20 minutes ago. Fuck outta here. Need to start paying for groceries if they want to eat so damn much. In THIS economy!?”
You couldn't help but to bust out laughing, but you knew he was completely right.
“We'll worry about that when the time comes, but for now I need you to do something.” You replied as you played with his beard.
“What do you need babe?”
Before you answered him, you leaned forward to kiss him and he eagerly kissed you back.
“Get up, lock the door, and you need to lose your clothes. Now.”
Jack simply smirked before kissing you again and then he got up and made his way over to the door to lock it.
By the time he turned back around, you had lost all of your clothes and he was looking around dumbfounded.
“What the? How?”
“I literally wasn't wearing that much to begin with, now come on.” You laughed as you were now sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled him closer to you by the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Off now.” You told him as you tugged on them, but instead he slowly slipped his shirt off and threw it in the corner.
“You're teasing me and I don't think I like that very much.” 
All he did was smirk, but was caught off guard as you got his sweatpants and boxer briefs down in one swift motion and began stroking him.
“Shit, baby.”
“Do it again and I won't let you cum.”
Hearing this, Jack immediately put a hand around your neck stopping your movements. 
“It's honestly cute how you think you're in charge. You know better than that baby. I run this.”
“Hmm, we'll see.” You softly answered as he let go and you took him in your mouth, but suddenly had an idea.
You stopped and simply slid all the way up in the bed and Jack was looking at you confused.
“My dick isn't going to suck itself. What's going on, baby?” He asked as he was stroking himself and peering down at you.
“Sit in between my legs.”
From that moment forward, you knew he was at your mercy.
Kicking his sweatpants the rest of the way off, he did as he was told and his back was now leaning against your chest.
Your arms went around him as you leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“You always put me to sleep and now it's my turn to return the favor.”
All he did was lean his head back and you lightly kissed him while smirking.
You started kissing down his neck and snaked your hand around to continue stroking him. The precum was now leaking as you massaged the tip of his dick before continuing to move up and down the shaft.
“Oh fuck.” You heard Jack quietly say and he adjusted himself so that you would be able to have a better grip.
By now, he had simply closed his eyes and now had his head resting against your chest. He tried to move to the side to be able to put your pierced nipples in his mouth, but your movements immediately stopped.
“Stop moving, Jackman.”
“But…”
“Just be patient.”
He did as he was told as you continued pleasuring him because the last thing he wanted for you to do was stop again.
You lost count of how many love bites you left all over his neck, and knew that he wouldn't be complaining when the two of you were finished.
Soft moans and whimpers were leaving Jack's mouth every few seconds and you simply slowed down and quickly heard his protests.
“Baby, come on.”
“Hmm? What's wrong?” You asked, knowing exactly what the problem was.
“You know what you did. I was almost there.” He whined and you simply laughed to yourself.
“Now you know how it feels, huh?”
“Baby, let me fucking cum.” You heard as he tried to increase the pace of him moving in the palm of your hand.
“Or what?” You asked as you stopped completely.
He turned around to look at you and kissed the side of your mouth.
“Don't ask questions to the things you don't want the answer to. Your ass won't be able to walk tomorrow if you keep fucking playing with me.”
“Who said I wanted to walk tomorrow?”
Jack let out a light chuckle before turning back around.
“Famous last words.” He replied as he patted your thigh and knew that it was going to be a long night.
You spit in your hand before reaching back around and sped up the pace of you stroking him.
“Yes, baby. Keep fucking going. Be a good girl and make daddy cum.”
Not even a minute later, he released all over your hand and you kept stroking him as he rode out his high with you kissing him.
Between kisses you heard his moans and the stickiness between your thighs was becoming more evident and could no longer be ignored.
You two sat in silence as Jack got himself together before he flipped over to see you licking his cum off your hand making him get bricked up all over again.
“Mmm, tastes so good. And what were you saying about me not being in charge?” You asked as you looked at him hovering over top of you.
“Don't fucking start with me because we are nowhere near done.” He said as he slowly entered you.
“Oh shit.” You breathed out because you were caught off guard.
“Don't get scared now. Take this dick.” Jack said as he pounded into you and placed his hand around your neck.
“And if you're a good girl, I just might let you cum. Open your mouth.” 
Listening to instructions, you felt warm liquid hit the back of your throat.
“Swallow it.”
As you did, you smirked up at him which made him halt his movements and slide out of you.
“Turn around.”
Now on your knees with your head resting on your arms, you felt Jack's warm tongue as he started to eat you out from the back.
“Fuck, baby. It feels so good.”
A few minutes had passed and without warning, he abruptly stopped and slid into you.
“Arch that back and act like you want this.” You heard him say but not before there was a hard smack to your ass.
You did as you were told and knew that this wasn't stopping any time soon.
About an hour later, Jack was fast asleep on your chest as you played in his hair and you couldn't help but to laugh to yourself.
 
And as much shit as he talked, you still put his ass to sleep. 
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ribbonprincess · 25 days
Note
hi love, please ignore if you don’t like this request! After seeing drew and Liliana I was thinking about nanny/ babysitter x drew in Charleston. I would prefer smut but ignore if your not comfortable with it 💕
note: this has been sitting in my inbox for sooo long,I'm so sorry I just couldn't find inspo for it. Also got lost in it and made it super long. Reader has a tongue piercing
🪐࿐ ࿔*:・゚
you're sitting with Drew on the patio outside the house,his sister Mackeyla went out with her husband for the day, so she left Liliana with you and Drew. You met through mutual friends that you both don't talk to anymore and since you like babies she asks to babysit Lili sometimes; so now you find yourself next to her brother who you may have a crush on.
"Keyla didn't tell me you were over today ya know, thought it was gonna be only me and Lili" "yeah...I thought the same actually" you chuckle,looking over at him as you eye each other with a knowing smile "she set us up!" It comes out at the same moment making you both laugh as the realization hits "I can't believe her" you shake your head at the thought,using your palm as a headrest. "well,guess we should make the most out of it then" Drew says, eyeing your sundress clad body,it was nothing crazy since you were looking after a 8 months old baby but it had incredibly hot in South Carolina so it was the best option if you didn't want to melt.
"Like what?" your eyebrows are furrowed as you smile softly at him "don't know...I would love getting to know you better,Keyla has said great things about you" "oh- did she? I hope so.." His body is slowly shifting closer to you,making the two-seater swing move slightly. "I like your perfume" he says,running a fingertip over the skin of your forearm "thank you" your answer comes out way breathier than you intend to but the feeling of his touch is way too affecting. His hand is slowly moving over your face,running over your shoulder and the curve of your neck where he stops for a second before he cups your cheek with a gentle smile.
"mind if I kiss you?" he whispers,already leaning in as you nod. His lips find yours as you lay a hand over his chest and the other on his shoulder "you taste like Cherries" he mumbles, grabbing your waist to manoeuvre you on his lap "I like it." Your hands are running all over his figure,over his buzzed head and then back down his biceps before they settle on holding on his neck. "I would love- to take you out on a date before this" he's pulling away from your mouth, making you almost whine before you're immediately shut by his lips finding their way over your neck "but I think I might go crazy if I don't feel you Immediately." His words are making you grin from ear to ear as they travel right down your core.
A pair of rough hands set the moves of your hips over the bulge in his jeans,making you moan as the material rubs just right against your cotton clad pussy. "gotta be quiet doll, we're outside and Lili is sleeping -she could wake up any moment" "shit,yeah yeah...I'll be quiet" you reply,knowing damn well it won't happen. One of Drew's hands moves southwards,running over your thigh before disappearing under your skirt immediately finding your mound. His index finger runs over the wet patch of your underwear before rubbing slow but firm circles over your clit "can I take these off, gorgeous?" His voice is soft,making you melt even more against his chest "hmhm.." "I need words,love" "yeah, please" He quickly presses a kiss to your temple muttering a "good girl" under his breath as he pushes your panties down your legs before pocketing them "gotta keep these for memory."
His words make you almost roll your eyes,but before you can even think about it one of his fingers is passing through your walls "there you go...'s fucking warm,hm" the way he's groaning against your collarbone makes you think he's the one getting pleasured. He quickly pushes another finger in finding a steady rhythm as they curl nicely against that sweet spongy spot. "god,you look gorgeous" He quickly undoes the bows holding the straps of your dress, revealing your chest to him "won't you look at these,fucking beautiful" he mumbles,wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as his fingers continue to move in and out of you deliciously.
"fuck-" your voice is muffled,biting into his neck probably leaving an imprint behind as he adds another finger in making you clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer. "you're making such sweet noises,princess. You're getting there hm? You can let go,I'm right here" His lips move away from your breasts, trailing over your neck before they slot themselves back on yours "you're doing so good,just need you to cum for me sweet girl" His words are sending you down a spiral as you grind into his palm,his thumb rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves as your moans start get more louder "cumming" your body shake over him for a long second before you fall completely still over him "good girl...feel much better huh,gonna clean me up?" he smirks, rubbing his sticky fingers over your bottom lip.
Your tongue rolls out to wrap around the digits,tasting yourself as you clean him off "fuck- what's that? you got a piercing I don't know about?" he raises an eyebrow once he pulls his fingers out of your mouth "well,shit...you gonna show me what you can do with it-" Your figure is already moving off the swing and between his legs before a loud cry from inside reminds you of the baby "well,guess that's gotta wait" you smile,standing up on shaky legs as you enter the house,feeling Drew's eyes bore into your skill.
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angelfic · 2 years
Text
— OOPS, I LOVE YOU. S.H.
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pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
summary: the 4 times you’re just best friends and the 1 time you’re not. alternatively, 5 things never to do with someone unless you want to fall in love.
warnings: kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, throwing up from drinking, pretty much pg-13 fluff otherwise
author’s note: inspired by a tiktok sent to me by my lovely anon who is the whole reason I wrote this little thing until 5am in the morning lol, enjoy and let me know what u think as always <3
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1. when he does that reverse driving thing.
Listen. You at least have the decency to feel a little bad about it. But you can’t help it! Steve may be your best friend, but damn it, you are not immune to the one hand on the steering wheel, one arm on your seat while reversing the car thing that instantly makes any guy more attractive.
A lot more attractive.
So attractive that you momentarily forget the reason he’s driving in the first place, which is to get the kids to the new arcade that opened up just on the outskirts of Hawkins. And you’re supposed to be giving him directions.
Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you turn a little to the back and find Dustin, squished between Lucas and Will, with a shit-eating grin on his face as his gaze flickers from you to Steve. You furrow your brows in a false display of confusion before turning back to your map, as though you don’t know that all the kids believe you and your best friend are harbouring feelings for each other.
Definitely not true, obviously.
You don’t even notice that the map is about to rip at the corners from your grip as you try and ignore the kids whispering in the back. That is until you feel a finger gently prodding your arm and you realise Steve has been asking you a question.
“What?” you ask, stupidly. And a little breathlessly, because there is absolutely no reason for Steve to be smiling like that. “Did you say something?”
“Just wondering if it’s straight ahead or left here,” he gestures in front to the road and you frantically search the map for where you lost your place. Definitely not helped by the whispering in the back getting louder. “You okay?”
“Fine!” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s, uh, left.”
“Thanks,” Steve mutters, glancing up into the rearview mirror and frowning. “Keep it down, you’re distracting Y/N, you little freaks.”
“Aw, they’re just excited, Stevie,” you laugh, and when Steve turns his eyes back to the road, it’s your turn to glare at them through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, we’re just excited Stevie,” Max teases, clearly unperturbed by the underlying threat.
Her words set off the others and you smile sweetly before turning to Steve. “Hey, you wanna drive back, drop the kids off and catch a movie?”
They all yell in unison; a mix of ‘no’, ‘please’ and ‘we’ll shut up’. Satisfied, you sit back in your seat and look at your map again, to avoid any involuntarily reaction to Steve smiling at you.
Yeah, the kids have no idea what they’re talking about.
2. when he lets you cut his hair
“Harrington, are you fucking with me right now?”
“Wha- No!” Steve sits up from his previous position with his head in your lap as you played with his hair, the two of you watching some lame comedy movie. “I mean, you don’t have to do it, but since you were offering…” he trails off as he gets up to grab another bottle of water and you take the time to compose yourself.
When he comes back, you immediately start in on him. “So, you’re actually being serious about me cutting… your hair.”
“What’s the big deal?” he asks, the question sounding muffled by the enormous handful of popcorn he just stuffed into his mouth. “You cut Max’s hair the other day, didn’t you?”
You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “Max wouldn’t have cared if I had given her the same haircut as Will,” you emphasise. “You- You’re… you’re Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington!”
“Ah, yes, my government name,” Steve says sarcastically. “But, I mean, it’s you. I trust you to cut my hair. Just don’t give me the same haircut as Will and we’ll be fine.”
A huge grin threatens to break free and you find that you physically can’t stop it. “You really trust me that much?” You nudge him with your leg from the other side of the couch and he rolls his eyes, but the pink tint of his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “Aw, you old softie. Alright, get up.”
“Wha- We’re doing it now?” his head snaps up at you, hand reaching halfway to the popcorn bowl. You move it to the side and grab his hand to start dragging him to his bathroom.
“You can’t take it back now, Steve. Binding verbal contract,” you declare dramatically and sit him down on the closed toilet seat, legs spread apart for you to stand between.
As you reach for the scissors in the cabinet above his head, Steve places his hands on either side of your waist as a reflex action to steady you while you search. “I wasn’t gonna take it back, I was just invested in the movie,” he mumbles, dangerously close to your stomach which causes his breath to fan across the tiny strip of exposed skin from where your pyjama shirt has ridden up.
If it weren’t for you trying to steady your own breathing, you’d have noticed Steve’s was slightly shaky. Quickly grabbing the scissors that are finally in view, you find yourself level with Steve who looks up at you, hands still on your waist. He keeps them there even while you set a towel around his neck.
The bastard winks at you. Raising a brow, you hold up the scissors threateningly and you swear he turns a little paler.
“Relax,” you snort, stepping away from Steve to get the water in the sink running. His hand trails down your leg, light as a feather as he’s reluctant to let go. He’s always been touchy with you, and you with him. You’ve always thought it was normal best friend behaviour growing up.
Even as you wash his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, his eyes flutter shut and you think about how natural this is for your dynamic.
And yet, ever since you and Steve became the unofficial babysitters for a bunch of kids who seem to be convinced that Steve is in love with you and you’re in love with him, you second guess everything about your friendship.
You can’t help but consider that maybe it isn’t normal for you to hate every girl Steve has ever gone out with, or for him to point out every flaw in the guys who go out with you to the point where you end up cancelling on every one of them.
Or for you to compare every guy you do end up going out with to your best friend…
Damn kids, putting ideas in your head.
“You’ve been a little too quiet,” Steve cracks an eye open, squinting up at you through wet hair. “You’re not planning on balding me are you?”
“Scared you’ll lose the source of all your powers?” you ask him in mock concern. “One wrong snip and there goes your endless chain of girls.”
“All except you,” Steve fires back, shaking the wet strands of hair in your face, making you gasp.
You grab the towel around his neck to swat at him, but he grabs the other end and tugs at it, making you stumble and use his shoulder for support.
He smiles at you, guilt-free and you think about how your best friend has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.
And so you push yourself off before you find your mind venturing into dangerous territory.
“Well, I say it’s time to test that theory out,” you reply, clearing your throat and picking up the scissors again. “You better be feeling fortunate it’s me holding these scissors of all people.”
“Oh, I am.”
3. when he holds back your hair
“Ooooh, thanks for the haircut, Y/N,” you groan out in your best imitation of Steve’s voice as he hauls you into the bathroom of whoever the hell’s house you’re in. “I love my hair soooo much. Let’s go to a party so everyone can see my hair. Then you can get so drunk you feel like you’re going to die.”
“I didn’t force the alcohol down your throat!” Steve exclaims, sitting down with you on the floor by the toilet, lifting up the seat and helping you lean over it. The guilt in his voice contradicts his words heavily. “Hey, wait, let me tie your hair up first.”
He gathers your hair up in one hand and uses his teeth to take off the hair tie he keeps on his other wrist for you.
If it weren’t for the nausea, your stomach might have swooped for a completely different reason.
“You know damn well that I don’t go to these parties, Steve,” you try to take deep breaths to keep the vomiting at bay while he ties your hair. “Because every time you force me to, the whole entire population apparently wants to talk to you, so I get all bored and end up drinking half the alcohol on the premises without realising!”
“I’m sorry,” he soothes, keeping your ponytail out of the way as your body decides it can’t keep the sickness at bay. “It’s okay, babe. You’re fine, I got you.”
It’s while Steve grabs you tissue after tissue and cleans you up unflinchingly, that you realise maybe he isn’t just your totally platonic childhood best friend.
The scowl on your face, which is actually directed at the universe for putting you in this situation of all things to realise your feelings, gets misinterpreted by Steve who pouts at you, hand resting on your cheek.
“I’m gonna take you home and you can stay over and I’ll stay with you all night in case you throw up again and you can pick the movie for tomorrow’s movie night and the next month’s worth of movie nights, okay?” Steve implores, eyes wide and pleasing with you.
“Okay,” you whisper, no argument left in you. Partly because of the vomiting, mostly because you’re trying to process all these feelings while drunk and exhausted. You slump against his chest and he holds you there. “Thanks, Stevie.”
“Anything for you.”
You’re definitely fucked.
4. when he cooks you breakfast
“Pass the knife,” Steve calls over his shoulder to where you’re sat on the opposite kitchen counter. His voice makes you wince, your head still hurting from your killer hangover. Probably the reason Steve is cooking you breakfast in the first place.
You grab the knife and walk over to him, slowly and grudgingly. “Not so loud,” you grumble, passing it over a little too aggressively.
“You’ll feel better once you get some pancakes in you,” Steve says, all-knowing expression on his face as he chops up strawberries — your favourite. “You go and sit, I’ll bring them to you.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” you shrug, grabbing the spatula to start flipping the pancakes already in the pan. “You just focus on those strawberries.”
He looks at you warily while you struggle to flip even one pancake. “I don’t even know why you bother every time.”
“Go to hell, Harrington,” you mumble, right before the uncooked batter on top of the pancake smears on the side of the pan. “You distracted me!”
Steve chuckles in response and sets down his knife, coming over to stand behind you. You aren’t prepared for him to trap you between the stove and him, holding your spatula-wielding hand and guiding it under the pancake. “Here, like this.”
It was easy enough to ignore the sight of him making you breakfast as you stared at random kitchen utensils from your spot on the counter this whole time. But it’s another thing when he’s pressed up against you, hand over yours, his scent overwhelming you. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing his shirt and his sweatpants and slept in his bed — you quite literally can’t escape him no matter where you go. And that means you start to think about your feelings for him, unfortunately sober this time, not allowing you to ignore them.
The problem is, you don’t think you want to.
“We’re like an old married couple sometimes,” he says, completely offhandedly.
You freeze, not knowing what to say.
He’s kidding, of course, making a joke that you should probably laugh at. The thought of him saying things like this while thinking about you completely platonically, however, suddenly brings back nausea that rivals the night before. You collect yourself quickly and mutter something about how he wishes, before ducking under his arm to get some plates.
Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, a little awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”
You really need to work on your acting skills.
“Nothing!” you insist, waving him off and handing him a plate. “I just felt a little dizzy for a second. Hungry.”
“Oh, do you wanna eat and then rest up?” His protective mode immediately kicks in, something you’re all too familiar with. “I can go grocery shopping for movie night with the kids myself.”
You roll your eyes, loading your plate with strawberries before Steve even has the chance to place the first pancake on. “I’m just hungry, I promise. Also, every time one of us goes alone, we end up forgetting like half the list and those kids are scary when they don’t have their essentials.”
“Oh, I remember the Eggo incident all too well,” Steve shudders are the memory. “My coffee table still leans a little to the right.”
5. when you go grocery shopping
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t stop at my house so I could grab some clothes,” you grumble, handing over the shopping cart to Steve with more force than necessary. “It was literally on the way! I look ridiculous, Steve.”
When he doesn’t answer, you sigh and look up from your list to find him grinning stupidly and looking over at your figure, clad in his clothes. You swat at his arm to snap him to attention.
“I think you look cute in my clothes,” he shrugs, unapologetic. “A completely self-indulgent move on my part.”
You almost stop in your tracks.
Yeah, Steve and you are close and he’s a sweet, charming, naturally flirty guy. But he’s never been this bold with you. First at breakfast, practically back-hugging you, and now admitting he likes to see you in his clothes?
You wonder what’s changed all of a sudden, but it’s making you nervous. And a little frustrated because how are you meant to come to terms with your feelings for your best friend when he says things like that!
“Don’t let the kids catch you saying stuff like that,” you wrinkle your nose, throwing a box of Eggos into the cart before you forget. “They’d be insufferable.”
“So, what?” Steve mumbles, pushing the cart into the next aisle to look for Lucas’ cookies. “They’re just joking around.”
You frown at the lack of joking around in his voice, and walk to the end of the cart which Steve stops in order to avoid running you over. “You don’t find it embarrassing and irritating?”
He scoffs. “Nice to know how you feel about the mere thought of being together,” he laughs without a trace of humour. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”
The sudden change of tone in the conversation has you wildly confused, and slightly annoyed because it’s easy for Steve to wave off the kids and their very real remarks. “The big deal is that we aren’t together. And the kids always saying that we should be… I- it- it has me confused!”
An elderly woman who’s about to enter the aisle, sees the two of you and clearly hears you raising your voice because she instantly turns her cart around.
“What has you confused?” Steve asks incredulously, throwing his arms up. “Is the idea of being with me that mind-boggling?”
You laugh derisively, no clue what he’s talking about. “We aren’t even—This has me confused! You, when you talk like we should be together, and when you flirt and when you act like we are together! But then we’re just best friends! What the hell is up with that?!”
“Well!” Steve looks around — you aren’t sure why, when the aisle is empty aside from you two. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Maybe it’s because I fucking love you!”
Your breath catches in your throat and you’re scared you might start choking if you do try and speak. However, when Steve looks at you like he wants to take it all back, misunderstanding your silence, you can’t stop the words from flowing out. “Well…maybe I love you too!
The relief on Steve’s face is something you catch for only a few seconds, because the next minute he’s striding over, shopping trolley abandoned on the side. He stares down at you, gaze intense and determined and so, so beautiful. “And maybe I wanna kiss you really bad.”
“Maybe you better.”
And so he does. He kisses you, really, really kisses you with the intention of making you forget everything else except him. Your best friend— your completely non-platonic best friend is kissing you and sliding his hands into your hair as you keep your hands on his hard, strong, chest that you’ve leant on for so many years. And while he presses his lips to yours, you can believe that he’s loved you for that long, you know he has.
When Steve reluctantly pulls away, you realise that you’ve loved him for just as long and damn those kids for knowing it before you did.
You’re the first to speak, albeit breathlessly. “They’re never gonna let us live this down, are they?”
“I don’t even care,” he shakes his head, grinning. “I finally got the girl.”
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© angelfic 2022
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nightfang22 · 9 months
Note
For the wayne smut could you add the idea of them losing their virginity to each other. Thank you<3
Of course I can!Thank you so much and I hope you love it!Sorry if it's not great,it is my first spicy fic.Anyways,lemme know what you think!
Virgin Lovers
Warnings:SMUT Minors DNI
Pairing:Wayne McCullough x f!Reader
Word Count:1.5k
His smile. His eyes. His lips. Wayne McCullough infected your every thought. He made you feel things that you had never felt before. As you were lost in thought, you didn't realize that your phone had been constantly buzzing. You picked it up on the third ring of the 4th call. "Hello?"
"Hey Y/n, you got any plans later?" It was Orlando. You and Orlando had always been good friends which is how you met Wayne. Orlando had introduced you two one day when you had begged him not to make you skip class alone.
                                                         *Flashback*
"Pleaseeeee Orlando? I don't wanna go alone and you're way better at this than I am! Besides, I'm only skipping to help you get these new Pokemon cards you wanted! I don't have to do this, you know." You pouted and whined until he conceded. "Fine fine I'll go with you. You probably wouldn't know what to look for anyways." You were about to make an offended rebuttal when something else caught his attention. Or someone, you should say. Turning around to see who it was, you thought it was just going to be the girl he's been constantly crushing on with a spinal cage. But no. When you turned around, you saw none other than Wayne McCullough walking in your direction down the hallway. You felt your heart pound and your cheeks flush. Your throat constricted and suddenly your mouth had run dry. You guess Orlando had noticed this and nudged you in the side with his elbow. "Oooo somebody got it bad, huh? Who is it? Is it the guy with the clarinet you have band with?" You jabbed him with your elbow back and tried not to stare at Wayne's gorgeously bruised up face. Orlando caught notice and smiled wide. "Oh, you got it bad for my boy, Wayne huh? Want me to hook you up?" Your head snapped violently in his direction. "I swear to the Gods Orlando, if you embarrass me in front of him I will kill you." Wayne walked up to us and looked at Orlando, giving a little head nod. "Wayne man! Where you been?" Wayne chuckled a little and it was this sexy soft rumbling noise. "Whatcha mean? I'm like 20 minutes late." Orlando laughed. "Yeah 20 minutes and like 3 weeks!" Orlando must have seen you fidgeting with the rings on the chain around your neck cause he put his hand on your shoulder and looked at Wayne. "Wayne, this is Y/n L/n. She's new-ish. She was new, like a month ago." You felt Wayne's eyes on you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes before smiling awkwardly. "Y/n, this is the man. The myth. The legend. My best friend, Wayne mothafuckin McCullough." Wayne punched Orlando in the shoulder and he winced. "Damn man! I'm tryin to do you a favor!" Wayne's eyes never left yours, even when you felt your cheeks tinge pink and you looked away briefly.
                                                     *Flashback Over*
You had been inseparable ever since. Wayne ended up cutting class with you and at some point you had completely lost Orlando and went to some record store where Wayne had asked you if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You and Wayne have been together for 3 years now and you could never be happier.
"Uh not really. Probably just homework. Why?"
"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me and Wayne to this club off campus later? It's supposed to be super rave and like alternative vibes and I know that's your shit. It took me forever to get Wayne to agree and I maybe sorta already told him you'd go?" "Orlando!"
"I'm tryin to get a hot goth girlfriend! Help a brotha out!"
  I sigh in defeat through my nose. "Fine. I'll go. But the moment anyone is too drunk, we're leaving. Got it?"
 "Yeah yeah for sure! Thanks, Y/n! You the best!"
                                                *Timeskip to the club*
You look around at your environment. It's a lot of flashing lights and loud music. Not really your scene. You scan the crowd for Orlando and Wayne when you spot them against the wall outside. You walk up to them and you notice Wayne's eyes scan up and down your body. You're wearing a faux leather 2 piece with a silver body chain covered in dangly purple and blue rhinestones with black sparkly platforms. "Hey guys, sorry if I'm late I-" You get interrupted by Wayne pulling you in by the waist. He keeps you close to him and it looks like he's glaring at something when you look up at his face. You look over and see him glaring at some guy. The creep looked like he was eyeing you and you weren't for it. You curled closer to Wayne before Orlando waved us to go inside with him. The place was loud but very hype and fun. It didn't really seem like your kind of scene though. You don't get why Orlando wanted us to come. Neither you or Wayne were much of the party type. After watching everyone dance for a while, you decided to call it a night.
Wayne took you home and got you settled inside, laying you down in bed. You just laid there staring at his beautiful face. "I love you." Wayne never blushes but his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. You don't know where the courage came from but you leaned up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. Wayne crawled into bed on to of you, pulling away only to take off his shoes cause he knows you have a thing about shoes on the bed. His hands roam your body in your pretty outfit. You pull away tossing off your body chain and making quick work of his shirt. Wayne wasn't necessarily 'buff' but he was very well tones and had a gorgeous frame. Your hands glided from his shoulders down to his waistline, working on the button of his jeans. He pulled away to look at you. "Are you sure? I-I mean I've never. And you've never. What if you regret it?" You pull him in for a sweet kiss. "I could never regret it. If anything, I wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else." That must have really got him going cause he practically tore off your clothes. He slid his jeans off along with his underwear and kissed my neck, pulling a gasp from you. When he pulls away, you finally have a good chance to look at him and holy fuck. You didn't realize your boyfriend was so….well endowed. Big enough that it looked like it might hurt. Wayne grabbed something out of his wallet and when you noticed what it was, he looked at you sheepishly. "Orlando gave it to me." He shrugged and smiled shyly. He rolled on the condom and crawled back over you. "And you're absolutely sure?" You nodded and placed your arms around his neck so that you could play with his hair. He placed himself at your entrance before stopping. "Hang on gimme your leg." You looked at him confused before lifting your leg and he placed it up on his shoulder, doing the same with the other one. "I read somewhere that it hurts less if you do it like this." He realigned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stretched you and he kissed your forehead, stopping. He made you look into his eyes. "Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head. He stayed still, waiting for you to adjust until you nodded you head. He began to move and even though it hurt, it was a good hurt. You moaned softly as he bottomed out inside you. Wayne gently bit down on your shoulder and kissed it before placing his forehead on yours, beginning to find a steady rhythm. Your moans were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he just wanted to keep hearing them. With one especially rough thrust he hit that special spot inside you and you arched your back while digging your nails into his and he ate that shit up. He continued at that pace as you screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. You felt the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your breathing picked up more. He held you close as you came crashing down from your high as his hips stuttered, painting the inside of the condom with his seed. He pulled out slowly, tossing the condom into the bin. He got up to grab a towel to clean you up and brought back a glass of water for you. After you're all cleaned up, he crawls back into bed with you, covering you up and pulling you close as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.
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intheholler · 1 month
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what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it
first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333
but ok so.
my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol
lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.
oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.
i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.
it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.
probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.
by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.
the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.
it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.
but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.
now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.
well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.
by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.
but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.
'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'
it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.
i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.
my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.
when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.
it's fuckin gross.
i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"
i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:
1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).
and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?
and to the transplants that do this--why?
you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?
you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.
you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...
...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.
so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.
and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.
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