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#I don't have anything against that I think it's really sweet

ghouljams · 1 day

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Some Ghost!Ghost that I wrote in a blind panic at midnight last night before collapsing back asleep. Minors DNI (cw: dubcon, somno)

Your cunt stretches around his cock, clenches around him like you can't get enough. Your body trying to keep him locked in place even in your sleep. he can see the soft pink walls of your pussy, the translucent cock that spears you open also giving your ghostly top an clear view of your insides. Your hips shift at the pressure of being filled, your knee moving from where you lay on your side to try and get comfortable. Look at you, so cute drooling against the pillow, arms wrapped around another as your silly little brain keeps you under the throws of sleep. Poor thing. It's a good thing Ghost is around to keep you safe when you're such a sound sleeper.

The burn of being stretched around his cock makes you whimper, the soft sound breathes out of you as Ghost fucks your pliant body. You're getting better about sleeping through his visits. Must be getting used to him, used to being filled by him. He wonders what you're dreaming about, if you're dreaming at all. Your soft lips part around delicate moans, hardly anything worth waking up over. It has to be him doesn't it? Perverse thing that you are, so willing to take his cock in the daylight even when you can't see him, do you dream about him too?

Some sick part of him purrs, pleased to know you're so easily trained, that your body welcomes him so nicely. But the part that's still human twists. He knows he shouldn't take advantage of your kindness like this. If he was a better man...

Well, if he was a better man he wouldn't be stuck in this terrible limbo in the first place. He wouldn't still have blood spilling from his slit throat. He wouldn't be fucking the sweet thing that's trying so hard to accommodate him in a house that's no longer his own.

Still, he thinks, better than the men that you've brought into the house. He's protecting you, really, by chasing them off. He's keeping you safe from their lecherous hands, their perverse glances and impure thoughts. He's keeping you satisfied so you don't try to seek satisfaction elsewhere. It's just the two of you here, no one else. He won't allow anyone else to know you like he does, to enjoy your kindness, your understanding, your body.

"There you go baby, big stretch," He murmurs, speaks in a voice he knows you'll never hear, when your brows scrunch the tiniest bit as he draws his cock out of your tight hole and presses it back into you, "you can take it, know you can." The warm clutch of your body is too much to resist, even when your skin seems to lose its heat wherever he touches you. He can't stop touching you, passing through your clothes to grope at your chest during the day, ghosting his fingers over your hips when you lay tile, his lips against your neck when you reach for something off a high shelf, his cock fucking you over the kitchen counter like the little trespassing whore you are.

You take it all so eagerly. Leave offerings for him, take his opinion, do you even know the strength you give him, the power. He wouldn't have been able to do this months ago, wouldn't have been able to sink into your slick cunt and hold himself up with a hand on your hip. Fuck you look so good when he spreads you open, tugs your folds out of the way with his thumb to watch the way you swallow him.

There is, he supposes, one nice thing about being dead: when you wake up in the morning with your pussy aching and sticky, you assume it must be from the wet dream you had last night.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost!ghost #ghost au #tw dubcon

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cute-sucker · 1 day

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you loved the bunnies.

as they huddled together, their little bodies on top of each other. their cage was bombarded with bunnies who scampered on one other, sniffing and squeaking sometimes.

you loved it. they were so cute and fluffy, and could barely handle yourself, as you hung onto rafe's hand, begging him to take you to the bunnies. it was your friend's party, and for one of the parts, they brought tiny bunnies who you could play with.

after all, rafe had brought them up.

"y'know there's a party tomorrow," rafe murmured, tucking his credit card in his pocket, you flittered next to him rolling your eyes, your pretty manicured hand travelling up his chest.

"don't wanna go," you whispered, sitting on your shared bed. at this rafe gave you a firm look, before laying down next to you. to be honest, although you were fully a kook, you hated going to those stuffy parties.

it was only another chance for people to make fun of you, or bother you about marrying rafe. your big ring was there to remind people that there was one of many reasons they should be nice to you. at least that's how rafe put it when he found you crying after being bullied at the party.

so that was how you felt, yet you watched rafe pursed his lips, "i think it would be nice to have my wife at my side."

you laughed at this, liking the way he referred to you as his wife, "c'mon that's not fair. you can't call me that. i'm your fiancé," you murmured, getting on your tip toes to kiss rafe on the nose. your nightgown was basically see through, as you swayed closer to him.

he groaned, before pulling you in, "c'mon kid, you know you can't tease me like that," and pulled you in for a real kiss.

you loved giving rafe kisses, and you especially liked it when he was nice to you. there was a way that his eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, and his hands got real soft and close to your chest. it felt like summertime when he kissed you. sweet times, like a mango ice cream dripping down your lips.

suckled honey, or even better wishes that came true.

finally, he let go of you, and you felt dazed still gasping as you nuzzled into his chest.

"there's bunnies at the party," he murmured into your skin.

so there you were cooing at the bunnies as rafe was broodingly staring at you. it was a small cycle, and quickly enough you called him over. he looked close to rolling his eyes.

"this is what you've abandoned me for?" rafe mused, pointing at the little bunnies cuddling each other. you nodded a bright smile of your face, your hands cupping your face. in all honestly, you wanted him closer, to feel his warmth but this was an excuse to get him close and not for him to expect it.

"i really want to hold one," you whispered in his ear, and at this he looked at you with an amused expression. the little bunnies seemed to jump in joy, fuzzy and full of happiness. but this was rafe, he wouldn't give you anything you wanted if you didn't let him know. he liked it when you were explicitly clear.

you sighed, "do you want me to spell it out? can you get one for me?" you huffed before pointing at one of them. rafe raised an eyebrow, his hand skimming over your chin.

"you sound bratty to me," he quipped, keen eyes watching your expression change as you seemed to soften at his remark. "what do we say?"

"please," you whined out softly.

he scoffed before cupping your face, as you felt yourself flush, "fine sweets. i'll get you your little bunny." as calm as ever, rafe scooted down to pick up a bunny. he was so gentle, his rough arms skimming over their fur, before cooing to it. you felt jealous almost, he was more gentle with the bunny than he was with you.

yet, you were entrapped by his softness, as you watched his face relax. "y' gotta be nice, alright," he whispered, before letting drag your hand on the bunny's fur. the bunny rested in his arms, sleepy eyes peering up at him.

as rafe cradled the bunny in his arms, you couldn't help but admire the gentle way he handled the little creature. his hands, which were often rough from work and training, now moved with such delicacy, as if he was afraid of disturbing the bunny's peace. it was a side of him that you cherished, the tenderness that he reserved for moments like these.

"you're a natural with them," you whispered out, watching as the bunny nestled closer to rafe's chest, seemingly content in his embrace.

he glanced up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. you wanted to grab him and kiss him, "you're too sweet bun."

you flushed, before reaching out to run your fingers over the bunny's soft fur, feeling the warmth radiating from its tiny body. it was such a simple pleasure, yet it filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness.

"thank you for getting it for me," you said, looking up at rafe with a grateful smile, your wide eyes full of softness.

his expression softened even further, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your heart flutter. "anything for you, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

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htchnr · 2 days

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♰ pure bliss ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ pure fluff ⋆ i made up the plot to Cooper's movie 'Under The Covers' purely based on the fake movie poster ⋆ but i kinda really like my take on it ngl ⋆ fluff so sweet it'll rot your teeth ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ Actress!Reader x Prewar!Cooper.

SUMMARY ➻ tired late night couch cuddles, based on a convo i had with the lovely @sandy-rat ☺️💕. WC ➻ 300~.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm not quite back from my break yet, i just wanted to put this out cause UHGGGG i wanna cuddle on the couch with this man 🫠😭🥲🥹 also trying a new writing format, PLEASE let me know what you guys think!

Cooper looks up from the television at the sound of the floor creaking, " what're you doin' up? " your southern drawl thick with sleep. his eyes meet your form, standing tiredly in the doorway to the living room in your silk nightgown.

Cooper quickly turns the volume on the television down, one of his movies playing. " was i too loud? i'm sorry honey, " he offers, watching you rub your eyes and yawn as you make your way to him.

" you weren't, jus' missed you 's all. " you yawn, melting into the couch as you lay down, your head in his lap. he sighs, a warm yet tired smile pulling at his lips as you settle down. " what're you watchin'? " another yawn.

your tired eyes watch the screen for a second, catching on to the scenery of 'Under The Covers'. " 'course you're watchin' this, " you smile, nuzzling against his thigh. he wraps an arm around your shoulder, calloused hand massaging gentle circles into your skin.

you knew Cooper loved Under The Covers, mainly, cause you two starred in it together — you were the female lead in it.

it was his character's goal to seduce your character in order to learn company secrets and get closer to the man he was after. though, in the end his character falls in love with yours, disregarding the operation to get away together,

it was where the pair of you properly talked for the first time, actually. sure you two had crossed paths in the studios while crossing sets, but you had never sat down long enough to have a meaningful conversation.

and here the two of you are, happily together, rarely apart from each other. he sighs happily as his eyes return to the screen, one of your big scenes playing. " what else would i be watching? " he chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before trailing his fingers to your hair, carefully combing the strands that lay across his lap.

you practically melt into his lap and the couch as his fingers lovingly scratch across your scalp. your eyes drift shut at the pleasure. " y'know we have other movies t'gether right? " letting out another long yawn as you curl up more against him.

" i know, but this one means the most to me, " he smiles tiredly, the rhythmic massaging of his fingers and the tangle of your hair around them slowly tiring him.

the two of you did many movies after your first, varying from the same type of spy movies, to westerns, to plain romance movies. and you loved them all dearly. you don't think you had a favourite that you did with him, you loved them all equally in your heart.

the ' tik! ' of the old grandfather clock and the rhythmic movements of Cooper's fingers slowly lull you to sleep, cheek pressed against his warm thigh as he tiredly watches the movie. it isn't long before he drifts to sleep either..

TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul oneshot #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins

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ghostofhyuck · 2 days

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NCT Dream when they realized that you're a biker gf with tattoos.

AN: This request is specific, reader is supposed to be a modest girlie because of her upbringing, so there's another side of her that dreamies were surprised to see. Also i don't know anything about big bikes lol

Mark Lee

Mark will be surprised when you show up to your date with him riding your big bike. It's like that slow-mo scene where you take off your helmet and you just flipped your hair gracefully that Mark's jaw dropped to the floor. LMAO. He'll be very flustered at first but when you smiled at him, he realized, "oh that's my girlfriend!" :D When you explained to him that you just usually wear your casual outfits (consists of pants, and sleeved blouses) was because that's how your family raised you, Mark understands it very well! He was just surprised that you have another side of yourself!

Huang Renjun

Renjun found out about your tattoo accidentally! It was when he walked into your room, and you were changing your clothes. He was flustered because you two have been dating for two months, but what surprised him more is that you have a HUGE tattoo on your back. It surprised him that his gf who dresses like a cottagecore girlie has a huge tattoo. When you explained to him that your tattoo is a secret, Renjun promised you that your secret's safe with him. You only smiled because he didn't judge you. "Wait until you learn about my big bike," you said. "oh that's fine --- wait, you have a big bike!?"

Lee Jeno

Jeno would be SHOCKED. Eyes wide when you two went to your house and when he notices the big bike parked near the garage, he asked if your dad uses the bike. "oh, that's mine," you said casually. He'll malfunction for minute then starts with, "Really!?" you only laughed at his reaction and then proceed to tell another thing about you, Jeno wasn't able to react when you pulled up your baby blue sweater and revealed that you have a tattoo on your stomach area and on your underboob. He probably have to sit down and think that his supposed sweet, modest girlfriend is FARRRR different from what he thought.

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan initial reaction was that he was surprised when you show up to your picnic date wearing a leather jacket and shorts. What's more surprising is that you have a lot of tattoos both on your thighs. There, you confessed to him that you're not really of a modest girl, that's just how you usually show to stranger because it's easier. So showing this side to your boyfriend took a lot of guts and courage for you. BUT what surprises you is that Haechan sulks jokingly at how it took you half a year before you told him this side of you.

Na Jaemin

Jaemin knows that you ride big bikes because he caught you one time arriving to the uni driving it. It didn't suit you because you were wearing a cotton slacks and polo blouse. SO when he finally sees the other side of you, trust your man that he'll lets out that whistle. You're wearing your biker outfit and as soon as you took of your leather jacket, revealing your tank top and the insane amount of tattoos on your shoulder and arm area. Jaemin would compliment you nonstop, telling you that you look so fucking hot, and how lucky he is that he has a girlfriend that can do both. LOL

Zhong Chenle

Another boyfriend that will praise you nonstop! Chenle would be surprised when one date, you told him that you actually drive around town using your big bike as a past time. Chenle wasn't convinced at first because he's used to your modest outfit consists of cardigans and long dresses. You explained to him that's just how you were raised, so you have to show him the pictures of your ride. He'll be EYES WIDE to see you leaning against your big bike, arms crossed and looking so pretty. When he accidentally swipe right, it showed a picture of you getting a tattoo. He'll be surprised too! he'll ask where is it and you pulled down your sweater to reveal the tattoo on your back area.

Park Jisung

Oh, Jisung will be flustered by the thought that you ride big bikes and have a lot of tattoo. He thought that you were demure and modest! You also radiates that energy when you two are getting to know each other, so he was surprised when you show up to his dorm wearing a different outfit from your usual! It didn't stop there because the tattoo peaking on your stomach surprised him even more! "Want to see my other tattoos" YOU HAVE OTHER TATTOOS!? I feel like once it sinked into him, Jisung will be fascinated about the thought that his gf is so cool! Would definitely touch your tattoo and ask if it hurt you during the process.

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coffeeghoulie · 1 day

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Mushy May Day 13: "Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice"

Timezones apart, Mountain and Aether share a late night/early morning phonecall.

Thank you very much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider. <3

(this could also be for the long distance extra prompt but i digress, enjoy the fic)

Aether wakes not to his work alarm, but to the drum fill in Respite, his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He shoots up, scrambling for it in a half awake haze. He fumbles to accept the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Mount?" He slurs, tongue not fully cooperating yet. His mind struggles with the timezone conversion, the rest of his pack, minus Sunny, halfway across the world. "'S gotta be late over there, what's goin' on?"

There's a deep sigh on the other end, made tinny through the speakers. "Hey, Aeth. There's no emergency. Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't apologize," Aether says, tension easing from his frame as he settles back in bed, phone pinned to his ear by his shoulder as he adjusts a blanket. He doesn't have to be to the infirmary until two hours from now. There's time. And if there wasn't, he'd find a way to make time. Anything for them. "I'm awake, sweet thing. How was the Ritual?"

Another sigh, edging on a groan. "Really fucking long. I don't even want to think about how many more of these we have left. I haven't had a chance to be outside for more than five minutes in a month, nova."

Aether hisses through his teeth in sympathy. He knows second hand what being cut off from one's element feels like, a phantom pain you can't quite shake. Quintessence is everywhere, so Aether's never experienced the loss of it himself.

It's easy for the rest of them to recharge; air a constant, water everywhere on Earth, fire easy to sate with heat. Dew's preferred method of recharging is near-boiling showers, taking advantage of hotels and venues and running their hot water bills sky high. It eases both his fire and what remains of his water.

Earth is a different story, especially when the pack is moving from city to city with barely room to breathe. It's always taken a toll on Mountain, but he takes it like a champ. Though Aether will always, always, always let him vent, knows how satisfying it is to let off steam.

"I'm sorry, Mount," he hums, clearing the sleep from his eyes. He'd been dreaming, something too realistic, almost able to trick his mind that he hadn't been asleep at all, that his mattress had been warm with three ghouls' worth of body heat instead of one.

"Why'd you think it's your fault?" Mountain chuckles halfheartedly. "You in charge of scheduling or somethin'?"

Aether hums. "Maybe. You don't know," he teases. "It's late over there, Mount. You want to hang up and get some sle-?"

"No!" Mountain cuts him off suddenly, distress sharp in his tone. "No, Aeth, please, don't make me hang up."

Aether can't see him, can barely sense their bond, stretched thin with distance. He can imagine it though, the way his shoulders slump, eyes pressing shut. "Not going to make you do anything. Talk to me, sweet thing. Anything you want, just let me hear you."

Mountain sighs, and he can just barely pick up the sound of a hand dragging down his face, scraping against his stubble. Mountain normally likes a clean shave, itchy, regrowing stubble an easy way to send him into a sensory overload. But being on tour makes it difficult to keep up with the upkeep. He wonders when their next hotel day is.

"Cue's halfway through her third blanket," Mountain says slowly. Aether doesn't need to feel the bond to feel the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "We made a stop at a craft store a few days back, she came out with a literal armful of yarn. Every color under the sun. I think she cleared out an entire color's worth of baby blanket yarn. She said something about making one for Aurora."

Aether hums considerately, reaching with one hand to the purple and navy blanket that had been pushed aside in his sleep. Still as soft as the day she had shyly handed it to him, the second one she had ever made, only a few months' summoned. She's come out of her shell since, but Aether rubs the yarn between his thumb and forefinger and remembers anyways. "Aeon's gotten theirs?"

There's silence for a second, and a quiet spew of Ghoulish cursing. "Just fucking nodded like you could see me," Mountain laughs, exhausted. "The second one she made was Aeon's."

"They like it?" Aether asks, biting back a yawn, tail going ramrod straight as he stretches his back. There's the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled back, and Mountain groans softly before the curtain is pulled again.

"Had to make sure they were still out there," he explains. "They're currently burritoed up in it on the couch with Swiss."

"Don't get up and do it now," Aether says, chuffing at the mental image of the new quintessence ghoul all cozy. "But in the morning, if they're still wrapped up, send me a picture, will you, sweet thing?"

A soft chuckle. "Of course, nova. Thank you."

"What for?" Aether says.

"I dunno. Just wanted to hear your voice."

Aether chuffs, reaching for his glasses. It's almost time for him to get up out of bed. "Thank you, too, then," he says, sliding his glasses on one handed. "I miss you all terribly."

There's a long sigh, which changes halfway through into a yawn. "I don't want to hang up, Aeth." His voice is as small as Aether's heard it in years, not since the last time the pack was thrown into upheaval.

"I know, Mount. I know. But you still need to sleep, sweet thing. Call me in the morning?" Aether offers, knowing that he'll probably be on his break by the time Mountain wakes, ever the early riser.

"I'll call you in the morning," Mountain says, still a little hesitant. "I love you, nova."

Aether smiles. "Love you too. I'll talk to you soon."

#dot's writing #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #mountain/aether #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #mushy may 2024

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wings-of-ink · 24 hours

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What if someone is very actively flirting with RO, making heart eyes at them, complimenting, smiling sweetly, etc. The MC looks at them from afar. They don't like it, they are jealous and upset, but they can't say anything because they are too shy and not sure if RO likes such attention from this person or not. So, MC just sends sad glances in their direction.

What will the ROs do? (if it's a crush stage)

Awe! Poor shy MC. I think it's safe to say that their feelings won't go unnoticed…I see this happening, in a tavern (because of course), with MC sitting alone at a table as they watch the bustle around them. There's a semi-similar ask, that you might also like linked below too!

Oswin: He's annoyed at the attention from this person and is waiting to politely exit the conversation. While trying to maintain patience, his eyes find MC's, but they look away the moment their gazes meet. He can tell something isn't right, they look uncomfortable, distressed even. He leaves the other person without a word, taking a knee next to MC's chair. "It's okay, I'm here."

Zahn: They don't mind being flirted with, but it's lost its luster recently since there's always someone else on their mind these days. It begins to nag at them while they have to force a laugh at the stranger's dumb joke. This isn't as fun as it normally is, it feels weird. MC keeps drifting in and out of their mind, so they scan the tables, spotting MC fidgeting in their seat. They look sad. Zahn keeps looking until MC feels their gaze and looks up. When their eyes meet, Zahn smiles wide. They know where they need to be right now.

Duri: The song and dance is familiar - lingering gazes, brisk touches against their shoulder and coy smiles - the attention is not abnormal for them. A group is clustered around them with questions and compliments, trying to provoke a reaction. Duri remembers how red MC's face gets when they tease them and smiles. They look over in time to see MC try to hide a sad face. Are they lonely? Or scared? Duri excuses themself, and hurries away despite the pleas for them to stay. They take a seat next to MC, hooking their foot on MC's chair to scoot them close suddenly. This is more fun.

Rune: Dragging their hands up and down their face in barely-concealed annoyance. It's clear that MC is getting distressed. Rune has seen them glance over nearly a dozen times and their sweet face seems to get sadder and sadder each time. Patience suddenly runs out and they abruptly excuse themselves, walking back to MC's table. Rune caresses MC's jaw and cheek with the back of their hand. "I'm sorry that you feel uneasy. Please save me from those idiots and stay here with me." MC's red face is so sweet.

???: He positions himself where he can easily see MC's face each time they look his way. They're so jealous. This is too cute. He laughs - loudly - at this idiot's innuendo. He's not interested, and this person hasn't taken the hint, but ??? likes seeing how flustered MC is getting. It's bittersweet since he doesn't want their feelings hurt, but it's beyond charming to see that they really are getting attached to him. A flutter of softness hits his chest, and he quietly slips away from the group around him, blending into the crowd. MC is looking around for him, but they don't see him coming up behind. Why is his heart racing so much? He gets close to MC's ear and whispers, "Jealousy looks good on you."

Thank you for the ask, Anon! ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #gc ro reactions

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straykidsholicleigh · 7 hours

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can you please write a minho drabble about him showing how much he likes the reader, but at the same time strugling with saying the words, like he just looks like the type that will give you the world, but never really say it he's doing it tho.

PAIRING: idol!minho x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff (idk if this comes under angst too-)

WARNINGS: established relationship, kissing & swearing :)

A/N: im so sorry this is late- i hope u like it unnie ✨

CREDITS: divider by @cafekitsune ♡.

“Minnie, come hug me please!” you pleaded, making grabby hands towards him as he was situated at the edge of the bed, his video game console in hand. “Not now baby, I'm busy.” He said, his thumbs pressing the buttons as his character on the screen was shooting an enemy.

It was a typical saturday night, almost 12 am as you were in bed, reading a book while your boyfriend decided to catch up on his gaming with his friends. You could hear Felix and Jisung screaming from the headset he wore, Minho yelling back at them that the enemy was within a 5 feet radius.

You didn't mind it when he played with his friends because you got to see him all pouty when he loses but today you were really craving attention. You just wanted to feel his arms around you, whispering sweet nothing's into your ears and slowly drift of to sleep, but you didn't think that was happening anytime soon because he looked so invested in his game. You pouted harder, tapping his shoulder lightly.

He turned around, removing half of his headset. "What?" He asked, his tone a little annoyed and soft at the same time. You winced slightly before replying. "I was wondering if we could.. cuddle for a bit." You said it so softly, eyes filled with longing. His gaze softened as he politely excused himself from the game, logging off and removing his headset before hesitantly wrapping you in his arms.

You sighed contently, immediately relaxing into his touch as you threw your leg over his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. He smiled into your hair, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your back, trying his best to show you how much he loves and cares for you.

"I'm not good at this." He said finally, his voice soft and relaxing, a hint of sadness in it. You frowned slightly, looking up at him. "What do you mean?" He signed, running his hands through your hair. "This.. this whole... love thing. Like, i want to tell you that I love you, I really do but I don't know how to-" "Your showing it." You cut him off. He raises an eyebrow, his thumb faltering against your back. "What?" He asked, his eyes telling you needs clarification.

You smiled, your fingers tracing his jaw lightly. "You show it, in different ways. Like when you leave cute notes on the fridge before leaving for work, when you cook for me whenever I'm sick or tired, when you run me baths when I have no energy to do anything. You show it in so many ways." You smiled wider, your eyes flickering to his features.

He smiled, slightly startled when he feels a tear rolling down his cheek. You laugh, wiping it away as he playfully hits your waist. "Shut the fuck up, you brat!" He growled playfully as you laughed harder, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hovered above you. He smashed his lips onto yours, swallowing away your laughter as you kissed him back, parting your lips slightly as his tongue traced your mouth.

When you pulled away, he smirked down at you, biting his lower lip slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Minho," You placed your hand on his cheek. "I love you." He was taken aback slightly at the sudden gesture but quickly recovered and took a deep breath, his smirk fading into a loving smile. "I.." He paused, looking for any sign of hesitation in his voice but when he found none, he smiled wider.

"I... I love you."

DO NOT COPY MY WORK ON ANY PLATFORM/APP.

#stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #stray kids fluff #skz #skz minho #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #skz lee know #skz lee minho #lee know x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee know x you #pls im so sorry this took forever motivation was lacking and i was stressed but thats not an excuse-

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schemmentis · 5 hours

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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 18

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: The aftermath...

WC: 2.9k

Within minutes, there are first responders barreling into the house. Luca watches as they load all four of the Schemmentis into the ambulances. They pull out with their sirens blazing. If any of the four are still alive, Luca can’t say he thinks they’ll be alive much longer. He shot all of them point blank with no sort of struggle or fight- a clean shot. There’s almost no way of any sort of survival. This secret was going to die with him.

“Sir, what were you doing here?” one of the officers asks as she squats down to attempt to console the young man.

“I was just coming to visit my aunts and their daughters before they went off to school!” he cries out. They don’t know he’s lying- and his tears are real ones. He can’t believe he just did that. “I- I don’t know who would want to hurt them! Esp-“ he gasps for breath as he grapples with true fact that he hurt those two sweet girls who always run up to him for ‘Unca Luca hugs’ whenever they see him for Sunday family dinners. “Especially Cat and Rosie!”

They manage to coax the rest of the story out of him, and because he’s so clearly devastated, they don’t even suspect him as the one who took down the Schemmenti family.

But Luca knows the truth. As he climbs into his car and away from the scene, he calls Tommy. He wipes away his tears and sniffles away any emotions that are inside of his body. Almost like a switch, Luca flips back into the cold, stone hearted man that the mafia family knows.

“It’s done. Don’t ever tell me to do anything like that again,” he hisses into the phone. “Never again.”

You blink, or try to. Your eyes are heavy and there's a garish white light that makes you close your eyes once more. There's a dull, constant beep to your left. You want to say to whoever to shut it off but you can't bring your mouth to open. The best you get is a pitiful, quiet, groan.

“If you're still in there, Y/N, I suggest waking up a bit faster.” A voice drawls at your right.

You blink again. This time your eyes open a bit more, enough to see more than just the damned fluorescent light. You at least get a ceiling tile or two before your eyes shut again. The beeping is pissing you off more than the voice had. Though you don't really know why just a voice made you tense. Or why tensing hurt so much.

With an effort, and a series of blinks against the light of the room, you finally open your eyes completely. Your eyes roll to the left. A monitor is the source of the incessant beeps. It takes your mind a long moment to recognize that it's your pulse the beeps signify. Maybe you don't want that beeping turned off.

Your eyes slowly roll back to the ceiling, and the blinding light. They slide until you're looking to your right. Agent Danik sits in a chair, watching you with an expression you can't decipher. Or maybe you do want the beeping turned off.

You try to ask what happened but you struggle harder with trying to speak. If getting your eyes open was difficult, speaking feels impossible right now.

Agent Danik leans forward in her chair. Elbows on knees. “You were shot.” She explains, almost softly, without you asking. “You were in critical condition for a while, don't push yourself too much.”

Your brow furrows. Shot? The last thing you remember was your eyes peeking open in the dark of your bedroom. Both your twins climbing into your bed. One of them actually climbed over you to get to Melissa. You can't remember which one. You couldn't possibly have been shot. Your home was safe.

The memory hits you like a tidal wave. You try to quickly sit up but your body refuses to let you. Instead the pain jolts through your whole body. The beeping increases drastically at the side of your head in time with the racing of your heart.

Danik is out of her seat, her hands gently on your shoulders to keep you from powering through the pain to get up. As if you could. Adrenaline might get you a ways but the amount of pain pulsing through you is still excruciating even with the pounding of blood through your veins.

“They're alright!” Danik says quickly, looking in your eyes that have been shifting wildly in your panic. She tries to get you to focus on her, to breathe. “Listen to me. Melissa, Cat, and Rosie are still alive, alright? They're alive. You need to breathe and calm down. Stop trying to get up, you're just going to make yourself worse.”

You sink back into the hospital mattress, doing your best to steady you're breathing. When Danik pulls her hands away from your shoulders, you grasp one as quickly as you can. Your eyes focused now, you look at the agent. You try to convey your questions in the look alone. Alive is good but how are they?

“They're still fighting.” Danik answers. In rare form she grips your hand back in a squeeze. You don't know when you found enough connection with the federal agent for there to be sympathy and compassion. Maybe getting shot does that. “You're the first one to wake up so it's hard to know where they're at. But they're alive, okay? They're alive. Considering the situation; that's a miracle itself.”

Your heart rate slows just slightly. They’re alive- but if you’re the first one…

“Congratulations though,” Danik tells you softly. “The four of you are legally dead… and out of the mafia and mob situation.”

You peel your eyes open again to look at her.

“Shaw is in Melissa’s room, and the girls are in the pediatric ICU with two other federal agents. I demanded that if and when they wake up, I am informed immediately so we can start the process of moving the four of you out of the city as quickly as possible.”

You manage to get two words out. “Mel’s room.”

Danik knows exactly what you want, and what you want is to be in the same room as your wife. She nods, eyes as soft as you’ve ever seen them. They wheel your bed and all of the equipment into her room. Shaw is sitting dutifully by Melissa’s side. You’re close enough to the redhead that you can just barely reach your hand over and take hers in your own. And then you finally let your eyes close again, and you fall back to sleep.

Danik and Shaw glance to each other silently as they watch your heart rate monitors start to sync.

“I’ll give the two of them one thing… they sure do love each other,” Shaw mumbles. “And those girls.”

“I know we’ve been after them for quite some time, but… I hope they make it out of this okay,” Danik confides in her partner softly.

“Agent Danik getting soft,” Shaw teases and bumps the woman’s shoulder.

“And if you let anyone know, you’ll be the next one ending up in ICU care.”

They sit with the two of you in wait until either you have to be wheeled back to your room, Melissa wakes up, or one of the girls does. Neither of them wants to admit that death is still a very real possibility for all four of you though.

Melissa, it turns out, is the next to wake. Hers is a much less chaotic scene than yours. Perhaps aided by the fact that when she opens her eyes it's to see you in the bed next to hers with your hand lightly gripping her own. When she turns her head just enough to see the agents sat in chairs against the wall it takes a few blinks before her voice works.

Shaw is nearly half out of his chair, uselessly asleep since his partner is still in the room with him. Not exactly required to be watching for any movement or sign of waking from Melissa under that circumstance. Danik sits next to him, tapping away on her phone. Melissa sees you in the tense set of the female agent's shoulders, the way she doesn't doubt the woman is tapping away at work emails. It reminds her how you were always head in your work, with the salon or otherwise. She sometimes had to remind you you were sitting at the dinner table and could relax; stop thinking about work altogether.

“The girls.” Melissa finally gets her voice to work.

Danik glances up from her phone. “They're fighting. We don't know more yet.” She relays.

“The second it is safe to travel; I want us on the way out of Philly. The four of us.” Melissa demands. “I don't even care where.”

Danik offers a rare smile. “Trust me, Melissa. We want that even more than you do.”

“And Danik?” Your wife calls when the woman looks back down to her phone. She waits until the agent looks back up to her. “Youse better find whoever the hell did this.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” Danik teases lightly because they already have every intention of doing just that.

“‘M serious. I know a guy,” she hisses.

“Still as feisty as ever,” Danik chuckles quietly. “Even after being shot point blank in the chest.”

Melissa’s eyes widen.

“I have to say, your large chest size may have saved your life,” the agent tells her. “Shot in the chest, and both your girls and your wife were guarded with blankets and pillows.”

“The- the girls were shot?” Her breath catches in her throat.

The agents face falls. “Shit. Uh, yeah. They’re not out of the woods quite yet.”

Melissa’s heart rate picks up, and the monitor picks up on that. It’s getting faster and faster, and Danik rests a gentle hand on her shoulders in hopes of calming her like she did you.

“Take a breath,” Danik orders. “Can’t have you going into cardiac arrest now- not after you fought this hard.”

Melissa’s eyes drift to yours. She squeezes your hand softly.

“And… you don’t know any guys no more,” the head states. “You’re legally dead, and so is the rest of your family. No contact with anyone from this life- at least not until La Cosa Nostra falls and all of those who are out to get you are gone one way or another.”

“No one? Not even-“

“Not even your own mother.”

“What if something happens to her?”

“You can’t risk it,” Danik tells her seriously. “You were quite literally on death’s doorstep once. Are you really going to tempt fate again?”

As your wife goes to answer, Danik’s phone rings to life. Shaw jolts awake and falls to the floor at the loud sound.

“Danik.”

“The girls… the one is awake. The other, they fear she isn’t going to make it.”

“I'm on the way.” Danik rushes out, quickly hanging up. “Stay here” She says as she steps over Shaw. “If I see one of the two of them somehow walking around I'm going to blame you, Shaw.” She adds on her way out the door.

The male agent picks himself up off the floor, claiming his chair once more. He clears his throat at Melissa looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Please don't make me actually fight you to stay in bed.” He finally murmurs.

Melissa laughs despite it being hoarse and weak. “Only ‘cause I feel exactly like you'd imagine from being shot in the chest.” She relents. “You ever been? Shot?”

Shaw nods. “It hurts like a bitch, huh?”

“You could say that again.” Melissa sighs, protected from the knowledge of the twins’ conditions for the moment. Her eyes close again with the decision not to press her luck and try getting up. That and your hand in her own.

“Hey, Shaw.” Melissa says after a long moment, without opening her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Ask her out already, hey? You stare at her like you're a puppy, y’know.”

Danik hurries to the pediatric wing of the hospital. Not that she can do anything medically but this is her case, after all. With the two women fairing relatively well, at least for the moment, she figures it might be best to put her attention to their daughters for now.

She checks with the medical staff, verifying what she'd been told before. Then, she slips into another hospital room. She expects to be hearing a commotion of some sort. The begging for parents. But it’s quiet aside from the beeping of the monitors.

“Go sit with Shaw for a bit.” She tells the agent in the room before she pulls a chair up to the bedside. The little girl in the bed is definitely awake. Though an oxygen mask is fitted over her face. Little cheeks are wet with tears though she isn't crying anymore.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You're Rosie aren't you?” she waits until she sees a little head nod. “I know it's got to be scary waking up somewhere you don't know all alone. And I'm sure you're hurting.”

Another little nod, very quick this time, forces Danik to pause. She reaches to press the call button, in case the agent in before her hadn't to alert the medical team Rosie is awake. She won't let the little girl suffer any longer than she has to.

“I'm a police officer.” Danik says, simplifying her job for Rosie. “You know what that is, right?” Another small, more timid nod. Danik hesitates. Based on the way their lives were up until about yesterday, she isn't sure what the former Schemmentis taught their kids about law enforcement.

“Did your moms teach you that police officers help keep you safe?” Another nod has Danik breathing a little easier. “Good. Because you are safe and so are your moms and your sister. I know it's scary but you're safe. I promise.”

Rosie chokes out a sob. “I want Cat.”

Danik mulls over in her head how she should handle this situation. “Cat is in another room, and she’s getting the care that she needs.” The woman only hopes that’s true. “Cat is fighting, just like you are.” She strokes a few stray tears away from her face.

The little girl just nods. Before Danik can say anything else, doctors come flooding into the room. The entire time that they tend to the little girl, Danik holds her hand. She gently runs her thumb over the little girl’s knuckles in hopes of soothing her even slightly.

Rosie is given pain medication, and she slips off to sleep mere minutes later. That leaves Danik to find her way into Cat’s room.

It’s much more solemn. The only sound in the room is the slow, yet steady, beep of the monitor that shows that Cat’s heart is still beating. But it’s slowing… only at forty beats per minute now- an alarmingly slow rate for a child her age.

Danik glances over to the agent who is stationed at the older twin’s bedside. The agent just gives her a slight shake of the head, and Danik can tell it’s wearing on this agent. The worst part of the job is having to watch a child pass… and it’s seeming that that’s where Cat’s fate is heading.

The head of this case shoos the agent out of the room before settling into the chair next to Cat’s bedside. She takes the little girl’s hand in her own, much like she had her sister. And then… for the first time in a long time, she bows her head and she prays. She prays for this little girl’s recovery. Cat shouldn't have to pay the price for what her mothers were involved in. Cat should have a long and prosperous life ahead of her- days frolicking through parks and giggling on the swings, days of cuddling with her mothers and feeling all of the love in the world. Cat should be given a second chance to live an innocent life.

It doesn’t quite register to the federal agent, but she’s crying as she prays. Tears slowly trickle down her face, and she doesn’t quite notice them until there’s a wet patch on her dark blue pants. After another long moment, the agent wipes her face with the hand not grasping Cat's smaller one. She stays with her head bent until she feels a bit more in control. She leans enough to kiss a little forehead.

“That's from your moms and your sister.” Danik whispers, gently brushing back wisps of stray hairs. “They're fighting for you, like you are from them. You're safe now, Cat. Nothing like this will ever happen again. You just have to get better and then you and your family are going somewhere safe. Together.”

The agent stays at Cat’s bedside for a long time, unwilling to leave her alone. She doesn't know that she’ll pull through but she hopes she will. To see all those days she is entitled to. Especially now that there isn't a significant danger intrinsically tied to her family's lives.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #collab fic #la cosa nostra

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put-me-through-the-wall · 1 day

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Okay how about Kidnapper!Konig who ends up crossing paths with you. A case file was dropped onto his desk one day. The manilla file consists of a couple of personal documents of yours and a glossy copy of your passport photo. Your hair brushed out of your face with wide eyes and beautiful lips pouting back at him. He knew from that moment you were more than just a mark.

In no time he is in your city, memorizing your schedule. It wasn't hard to do. You are very predictable. He doesn't even need to trail far behind as you walk through parking lots and sidewalks. He once followed you all the way back to your front door, caught up in the scent of your fading perfume. You never even looked behind you. You really shouldn't wear headphones all the time. You're far too pretty to be this oblivious to your surroundings.

You have a shitty live-in boyfriend who has gotten you into this whole mess. Konig hates watching you through your window when you get home. Seeing the loser guy lounging on your couch. Eating all your food and complaining about anything he can pick on. He watches as you pace room to room picking up after that pig. Thankfully, you were only targeted due to your connection to him. He's not sure how a sweet girl like you got involved with such a dangerous man.

After almost a week of tracking you he determines the time to act. You like to take a scenic side street when you walk home from work. The cobblestone path between two blocks of old historic buildings. The ivy and overgrown trees taking over the space creeping through the iron rod fencing line either side of the walkway. It's late in the evening, the lampposts lighting your path with a yellow tint while you walk down the cobblestone. You're heels click along the stone and once again you have those damn headphones on. Konig is thankful he able to be here instead of some creep. You step along your way so comfortable in your routine now.

You don't even notice when Konig's wide stride catches up to you. You don't see his large shadow looming over you while you mindlessly scroll through your social media feed. He can't help the smile that pulls at his lips underneath his hood when he sees you liking a silly cat video. Then he wraps his massive arms around you. Before you can make a sound he covers your mouth with a rag soaked with a certain special sedative. He shushes you gently as you scream against the dense fabric. You don't struggle for long. Nails scratching at his forearm don't cause real damage through his thick sweatshirt. You kick and thrash but he holds you tight to his chest. He feels your heart thumping against your rib cage like a scared baby bird until finally, you relax. Your head lulls to the side and falling into the crevice of his arm. He stare down at your closed lids, you look so peaceful now. The scent of your hair product penetrates the material of his mask.

There is plenty of time to adore your sleeping form, not here though. He hoists you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style back to his van. Carefully slipping you into the back but not before zip tying your hands and feet. You shouldn't be awake anytime soon but he's not one to take chances.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

I'm just writing down some things I've been thinking about lately. Please let me know if you want more of things like this or if you want me to do a part two. Any comments or tags I see make me smile <3

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#konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod x reader #call of duty #konig fic

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pascaloverx · 3 days

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Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and adult content.

chapter four

CHAPTER FIVE

The following days were calm. You and Dean exchanged glances when you met in the hallway of the building where you both live. You exchanged small kisses in the elevator, and when Sam was asleep, Dean made a late-night visit to you. One interesting thing is that since you started sleeping regularly with Dean, he has spent more time without bringing strangers home. And most importantly, your new book is going smoothly. This should cheer you up, but it doesn't. Because it means that when you finish writing the steamy parts of the book, this agreement with Dean will come to an end.

"Do you think your brother doesn't suspect anything?" You ask as you and Dean are coincidentally coming back from the grocery store together. Dean has his groceries in one hand and the other on your waist. He's leaning against the elevator while you're basically leaning against him.

"Do you really want me to think about my brother now?" Dean asks, his breath brushing close to your ear, and you smile awkwardly.

"We're in the elevator. Do you have a specific topic for now? Like what we've been doing together at night?" You turn to look at Dean, who looks at you with a mischievous gaze. You lean in to kiss him. A quick kiss, but full of passion. The truth is, there's chemistry between you and Dean, and spending time with him has been a good thing for you.

"I think we should drop off the groceries at your sister's apartment and head to the car. I think there are one or two things we can do there that will be good for your writing. A confined, tight space with two people. Sounds promising." He says between your kisses, which makes you giggle. Until the elevator door opens on your floor, revealing Castiel. He and Dean lock eyes, and you don't know what to do. Obviously, you step out of the elevator, and Dean follows suit, even though he hasn't shown any reaction since he saw Castiel. Castiel looks very handsome, with an elegant overcoat and a glow aura. But his expression shows concern.

"You didn't respond to my invitation, so I thought I'd come here to see if you…" Castiel speaks softly, as if gathering the strength to face Dean. Dean then stares at him, looking angry, and you wonder if it's a good time to leave the hallway and let them talk in peace. But Dean seems to read your mind and gently holds your hand. You wonder if he did this to feel support or to hurt Castiel.

"I've been busy. Damn, actually, I haven't been that busy, but you can imagine why I didn't respond to your invitation. Who invites their ex to their wedding?" Dean responds to Castiel, basically interrupting whatever Castiel might have been trying to say. You look at Dean with a disapproving glance.

"Do you really want to discuss this in front of Y/N?" Castiel asks, and you understand him. Their relationship is their business. As much as you're sleeping with Dean, it doesn't give you the right to interfere in his personal affairs.

"Actually, Castiel, I don't want to discuss this. I thought it would be obvious that I'm not going to your wedding but since I have to say it in so many words, I won't be able to watch you get married with someone else. I'm trying to overcome the hole you left in my life. It would be better if you respected that." Castiel looks a little saddened by Dean's words but shakes his head positively.

"I just wish we could be friends. But I don't think you're ready for that. I wish you the best in the world, Dean. And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Y/N." Castiel lightly touches Dean's shoulder and after the two exchange a long look. It's as if the tension between them is building up in front of you. A crestfallen Castiel leaves, taking the stairs instead of the awkward wait for the elevator.

"You could have been more delicate with him. Maybe he just wants you two to have a healthy end to your relationship." You say and Dean looks at you a little annoyed.

"Look, even though we fuck and get along well, we're not a couple. I don't need your advice. I am able to know how I should act in any situation." Dean is rude to you, which shouldn't surprise you but it does. You try to hide that you're upset by heading towards the door of your sister's apartment. But Dean holds the door before you can enter.

"What do you want? Insult me? Treat me like you just treated the guy who stood by your side for two years, even when you looked beyond repair?" You turn around nervously and speak with some anger but the truth is that you're not lying.

"I don't want to make the same mistakes, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was too frank or even a big idiot. I just..." Dean looks at you wistfully and you feel like he must simply be hurt. Which isn't an excuse.

"At the end of the day you're right. We're not together. You should do what you do best and go fuck everyone. Maybe then you'll get over what happened to you and Castiel. And if it wasn't clear, our agreement is over." You say looking into Dean's eyes and then you push the door hard and enter the apartment. You hear Dean call your name a few times, but you ignore him. Right now, all you want is a tub of ice cream and to watch a movie.

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #female reader #former dean x castiel #castiel #sam winchester #Spotify

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theclaravoyant · 3 days

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Ripples (Hen, Tommy) - 1400wd

AN ~ i am obsessed with sweet, sweet platonic content and the hentommy moment we may never get, so i'm giving us one.

In the middle of a building collapse (because of course they are), Hen and Tommy catch up. Read on AO3 (~1500wd)

It's coming down!

The ear-shattering screech of steel and concrete is the only thing Hen can hear for a long moment after she throws herself forward into the hallway. The roof is holding out here, although the concrete dust isn't helping as the air is becoming dangerously smokey. A torn electrical line spits out aimless sparks. But she's okay.

Grimacing against the oncoming headache, she gets to her feet and takes stock.

“Ravi, you okay?”

“Partial floor collapse back here when the ceiling came down,” Ravi reports from somewhere out of sight. He coughs. “I'm down a floor, but I'm okay.”

“Kinard?”

Nothing.

“Tommy? Come in.”

“Hen?”

His voice is weak, but she's not just hearing it through the comms. Hen turns back to the pile of rubble, sifting through sheets of ceiling plaster and trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. Soon enough, she sees a hand wave.

“Got you,” she assures him. “How you feeling?”

He groans. She frowns as she clears the last of the lighter debris, and can see why, because of course he's not been lucky enough to catch a bit of plaster and plywood. He's stuck face-down, the whole back half of his body pinned under probably a half a tonne of rubble.

“My leg,” he advises. “Right's okay I- I think. Left is really- oh, Christ, I think it's twisted up pretty bad. At least it was. I can't- I don't think I can feel it anymore.”

Tommy's breath shakes like he's fighting off a panic attack as Hen requests assistance. Possible spinal. Even when she manages to get both of their halligans under there and relieve some of the pressure, there's only so much that can be seen from here of his bloody mess of a knee. She can only confirm that it's highly unlikely his toes are actually moving. And sure, it means maybe nothing but maybe it means a pinched nerve or amputation or permanent paralysis or, or, or – in other words; no more being a firefighter, no more being a pilot, no more of a lot of other things too probably and that hurts so much more than the fact that half his body's being pulverised into the floor.

“Come on now,” Hen challenges gently. “You know better than to take it to the worst case scenario.”

He nods as best he can down here. He's starting to feel cold and shake and it's got to be some kind of stress response. Is he going into shock?

“I also know better,” he manages, “than putting myself on the call roster for the craziest firehouse in LA.”

“Yeah, well. We all do stupid things for pretty boys, hm?”

He can picture it, the smirk on her face; equal parts compassion and mischievousness. It makes him feel warmer and stop clenching his jaw. He hadn't even realised he was doing that. But she's right, and she's picked a hell of a time to bring it up, and it's working: thinking of Evan and his boyish smile and his big blue eyes brings his heart rate down, steadies his breathing...

Hen settles in beside him. She's close enough to check his brachial pulse, or grab him and yank him forward – possible spinal be damned - if anything else goes down, but as it is, they wait.

After a few breaths of reassuringly collapse-sounds-free silence, Tommy asks:

“So, how's Karen and Denny?”

It almost makes her laugh. He's still face down and bleeding under a roof and for his tone, they could be stood free and clear around an average office water cooler. Ah, the life of a firefighter.

“They're good,” Hen assures him. “Great, actually. You know, Denny's almost fourteen?”

“Wow. Way to make me feel old.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Evan tells me you guys have a daughter now too?”

“Mara,” Hen updates him. “She's nine. Came to us through foster. She's been through a lot but we're getting there. She's really strong, and she's working really hard, you know, to heal.”

“Good, that's good. Sounds like she's got a bright future ahead of her,” Tommy congratulates. Then a more sombre tone settles into his voice. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

It's something about having your whole life and livelihood hanging in the balance that brings out this sort of confessional in people, Hen knows. She's both always wary of it, and also sort of addicted to the kind of radical honesty that constantly spilling your literal actual guts tends to inspire. So even as she tries to get out - “Tommy, we don't have to do this,” - she braces herself to accept whatever is about to come next as if it's the last thing he'll ever get to say.

“I'm sorry I was such a dick to you,” he says, “back in the day. I wish I could say I just got caught up in the machismo and stuff but honestly I- I didn't know any better. And I didn't really want to try. But you, and Chim, you're some of the best firefighters out there and I didn't give you guys your due and I'm sorry.”

Tears prick at Hen's eyes, and it doesn't help the sweat and smoke and concrete dust that's still settling all around them. She'd patched over these wounds a long time ago but it feels nice all the same, freeing in a way she hadn't anticipated, to get an apology she was never going to ask for.

“You know,” Tommy continues, softer now. “I think you saved my life.”

“Uh, pretty sure I'm up to about six counts of that,” she jests, because she can feel it coming;

“I'm not talking about in the field.”

There it is.

Hen's breath catches in her throat as Tommy finds the courage to recount it. She's felt it coming for a long time now, maybe even years, but certainly since he'd strode into Chim's hospital room all giddy and covered with soot and with Buck she'd kind of wondered. Wondered what her crying and demanding to be seen in the middle of the firehouse floor all those years ago might have actually done. It had done a lot for her, but she'd never quite be ready to hear, let alone to contemplate, what those words might have done for a man who'd grown up in a military family under don't ask don't tell – the same policy that had kept Karen's dream out of reach until it was too late. For a man who'd not grown up having and valuing marginalised experiences; not having a bad-ass, butch as hell mother who'd always taught her to speak her truth, even if that truth was something said mother had struggled to deal with at first. He'd been taught how to be a man and a gentleman and a soldier and not much else. He'd never realised what intimacy could actually be like, what love could actually be like; he'd thought he'd scared off every girl he'd ever had because there was something abnormal about him. Something fundamentally unloveable.

“... Bits and pieces, looking back – you know how it is. I'd just always sort of thought there was something wrong with me. I'd never really seen any other possibility. Until you. So. I know I'm late to the party, but for what it's worth – I see you now, Hen. And I am honoured to call you Captain.”

Hen nods, trying to swallow the lump in her throat as some of those tears splash down her cheeks. In spite of herself she feels something reach back in time and touch her fierce, heartbroken younger self; a promise that it's going to be worth it one day.

“It's worth a lot, Tommy,” she manages. “Thank you.”

Then, the radio crackles back to life.

“Cap,” Eddie reports, “Ambulances from the 133 pulling up. 118 should be on you now.”

Footsteps clamour down the hall toward them, as Ravi, Buck and Chim rush in, backboard and hydraulic jack in hand. Chim pushes the morphine, Ravi pushes the pain point of the rubble away, Buck and Hen slide Tommy out and even though he yelps and moans Buck can't hide the joy and relief that breaks out on his face as they flip him onto his back and slide him onto the backboard in swift, perfectly matched unison like a well-oiled machine.

“We've got you,” Buck promises, squeezing one of Tommy's trembling hands with a sweaty, giddy smile. He glances over at Hen, and checks in - “You good?”

What do you think it is? he'd asked her once. The secret to happiness?

He's in the middle of a burning building, and it looks like it's pouring out of him now.

“I'm great,” she replies. “Let's move.”

#hen wilson #tommy kinard #911 fic #tv: 911 #bucktommy #firefam #clara's fic tag

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canisalbus · 3 months

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the art you made of plushie machete and vasco is SO CUTE, would it be alright by you if i tried sewing them?? I’d tag ya if i posted pics of ‘em anywhere, of course ☺️

If you like them that much, sure! Tag me/send me pictures if you do, I'd love to see.

#a couple of people have expressed their interest in making their own plush versions of them #I don't have anything against that I think it's really sweet #this goes without saying but just try to treat them nicely they're very dear to me #answered #variousnumbers

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sweethome-thoughts · 2 years

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Officially changed the name of the account !

As I said nothing will truly change, I'll still post incorrect quotes, headlines (you guys seem to like them 😭 thank you btw ! 💕) so don't worry lmao, but I was maybe thinking about sharing headcanons too ?

Idk if that's interesting for you, you mostly followed for funny headlines and quotes not me talking about what's in my brain 💀

Anyway, idk, feel free to let me know, as said in my bio I'm a bit scared of the internet as I never shared anything before like I do here 🙏 maybe when I'll feel less anxious to share I'll do it

I even made some reference sheets for some of my favs characters on my Insta private story so ! Maybe I'll share them here one day idk

#aaaah idk why I'm so scared of sharing #i think it's bc I have some unpopular opinions ?? we're not on twitter so I should be fine but.#i have too many strong opinions to not feel anxious about sharing 💀#especially shipping hcs.....no because sorry but the ¾ of Sweet Home ships fucking SUCK sorry #Jae-Heon/Sang-Wook is almost the only one that doesn't make me want to stab my head against a corner of a table #even tho I like them platonic better I think the shippers are really cool little people #anyway that's why I'm hiding here instead of screaming it on Tumblr #Lan's ramblings #ok good night it's 2am #btw I don't hate other shippers or anything lmao I don't really hate people just for a ship but the ships themselves are just bad to me

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miniimight · 12 days

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"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!

with gojo, nanami x fem!reader

notes trying out this writing thing again lol

in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'

now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.

it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!

GOJO

satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"

you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.

he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.

it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...

when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.

"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"

"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.

you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."

he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"

"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.

"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."

you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"

"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.

"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."

huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."

"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."

his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"

you nod.

"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.

you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"

"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."

"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.

"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.

you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.

he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"

you giggle. "okay."

"yay!! now let's go!!"

by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!

NANAMI

kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.

"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.

he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."

you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."

he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"

you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.

kento frowned. "oh..."

"yeah."

you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.

"y/n." he called you.

"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.

"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.

you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."

he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."

you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."

his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"

you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."

kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"

"um..."

"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."

it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."

"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."

"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"

"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."

warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.

he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."

he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #nanami x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk satoru #jjk kento #jjk x you

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javiscigarette · 4 months

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Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort.

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea.

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.”

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.

“I sure do.”

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him.

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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