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jasonswhitetuftofhair · 2 months

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“Come at me, Baby”

Characters/Pairings : Jason Todd (Red Hood) x female!reader.

Synopsis : Jason and Reader spar and after training things get steamy filthy.

Content Warnings : SMUT. Slow burn. Poor writing. Lots of plot. Training/Sparring (reader learns combat). Curse words. Pet names. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Protected sex. Size kink (barely noticeable). Oral (fem rec.). Fingering. Dry humping. Use of object as toy (Jason uses a muscle massage gun on you). Vaginal intercourse. Light bondage (Jason ties your hands w/ resistance bands). Reader insert (sorry). Aftercare.

Fandom : DC, Batman.

Word Count : 5202

Author’s Notes : First fic I’ve written. Like ever. Also, this is a repost; I originally posted this for the first time in October 23’ but I deleted it in December 23’ due to insecurity.

This week had been tiring. Multiple meetings, a lab breakout scare, a few late night patrols all on top of studying the material you’d been given had started to add up. All you wanted was to retire for the night, go to your room and take a nice, relaxing, long, hot bath. Gorge yourself with junk food and put your show on, and then sleep like the dead. But no, tonight called for an evening training session with your training instructor.

Jason. Jason Todd. Before you had entered the gym, you weren't sure if you would be up to train tonight. But watching him enter the double doors with his hot-as-hell all black tactical pants, skin tight athletic t-shirt and combat boot ensemble quickly made you reconsider. As if it was hard.

Ever since Bruce had finally gotten Jason to accept his proposal of conducting training sessions with everybody, you’ve been feeling like a sitting duck. You had been trying to hide your feelings from the older vigilante for a while now. A while as in since you first arrived at the manor. Nearly eight months had you been stumbling around whenever he was near, barely making eye contact and feeling like an idiot because of him. And you had been succeeding, too! Barely, but still. He didn't know anything and now with your new arrangement, how could he not pick up on the vibes you were sending out? It was only a matter of time before your feelings were compromised and you were left heartbroken and feeling like a fool, your friendship with him long gone.

It wasn't so bad, though. You had always been good at adapting and Jason wasn't necessarily bad on the eyes. It was kind of fun, too. His little dry humored remarks, shared inside jokes and just…him, made him good company. After all, he was your friend. You haven't known him long, but it still felt like you’ve known him forever. But that was the problem. Your friendship with him was too much of a treasure to have it be risked just because of a little crush. You’d rather be plagued by the overwhelming melancholy of your predicament than not have him at all. If the only way you could allow yourself to indulge in the feel of his hands on your body was when he was training you in combat, then that was something you were okay with settling for.

“Earth to Y/N. Um hellooooo, you there?” Jason’s equally teasing and concerned words pulled you from your trance you hadn't even realized you’d fallen into.

Your embarrassment quickly appeared on your face and didn't go unnoticed by him. “Yes! Sorry, I’m here.” Having been snapped out of your thoughts, you noticed that Jason had you held against him mid-air. You threw a punch at him, but he of course dodged it so you did what you first thought next. You tried to kick him in his side but he quickly grabbed your ankle and gently but strongly twisted it so that your body changed direction. Before you could lose balance and fall he grabbed your other thigh and caught your body against his, holding you to him. You didn't react at all, though, and his initial thought was that he crossed a line he didn't know of and did something to upset you. He called your name and you didn't answer the first time so he paused the lesson and brought you back to him.

He was a little worried, honestly. He knew you to be like this, often catching you staring off into space and likely daydreaming or stuck in deep thought. It was your expression, though. The mild sorrow, a little bit of adoration shining in those pretty eyes he loved so much, too.

“You sure? We can take a break if you need it,” he offers, gently smiling at you, “is everything okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asks worriedly. Gazing into his eyes, your heart almost swells up. He looks so genuine, like it would hurt him if he hurt you and you let yourself pretend it's for other reasons. “Yes, I’m fine, promise. Just have a headache s’all.” It's enough to relax him just the slightest but he doesn't believe you. Your body language is just not convincing enough. He finally puts you down and lets his eyes skim all over you. He tells himself it's to check for signs of discontent or injury, but he knows he can't lie to himself. Youre just too fucking beautiful. He shakes himself out of it before the blood rushes south and gets back to the lesson.

“So. You really need to get out of the habit of kicking. It can't be your first instinct, sweetheart. You're exposing an entire limb to the enemy and you're not skilled enough yet to counter whatever it is they plan on doing. I know it's hard, but you need to really start implementing your upper body strength,” he explains to you, occasionally letting his fingers linger on your skin when showing you what the enemy could potentially do to you. You truly appreciate how gentle and accommodating he is when it comes to teaching you. You’ve seen him train with the others and sometimes his harsh tone is enough to make you jump even when his words are directed to someone else. He’s been so patient with you and the thought of him going out of his way to train your aversion-to-fighting self makes your heart flutter. You nod along with him, letting him know you haven't gone off to La La Land again.

“Alright. Come at me, honey,” he orders while positioning himself in the default defense stance. Legs strong, but ready to move. Arms by his side ready to catch and balance. Core strong and taut, chest puffed. Eyes on you, just as he likes it. He finds it adorable how clueless your little expression is. Eyes wandering all over the place, arms trying to find a good way to support yourself and legs waddling to their correct position. Like a baby deer learning how to walk. He hears your little words of encouragement to yourself and watches your eyes, watching the gears turn in your brain. While his focus is stuck on your pretty face, he doesn't notice your left hand curling behind you while you spin yourself around, pressing your back to his front. He grunts and catches your right hand before it can land around his bicep. You quickly move your feet backward and jump behind him, putting all your strength into kicking his back hamstring, but he’s already several steps ahead of you. He turns around before your foot can land and grabs your ankle, destabilizing your legs and grabbing your wrists, holding them tight in his right hand.

This of course leads his mind to other things, things that would involve this very position. You curl your leg around his stretched leg and twist your body around, landing you on top of him. Your legs straddling his abdomen and palms resting on his waist. He doesn't mind at all, though and senses a pause in your movement. He notices your tired expression, your flushed face and neck, the sweat on your hairline, neck and brow. You jump, as if just now realizing the position you had him in. You move to sit next to him and he moves into a sitting position, no longer back to floor. You flash him a cheeky grin, happy with yourself for winning this time.

“Did I do good?” you ask him excitedly and he chuckles, your pretty little smile having caused his heart to skip a beat. ‘Did I do good?’. That phrase would be on repeat in his brain for a little while, he could tell. The way you seeked his approval caused his groin to stir and he stood up, quick to distract himself.

“You did. I’m proud, that was much better. We’re gonna focus on your upper torso, now, okay?” He guides you to stand and places his hands on either sides of your shoulders, guiding you to stand in front of him. “I'm gonna throw at you, and you're going to block them.” He playfully wiggles his fist in front of you and you grab onto it giggling. Oh how he adores that sound. He sneakily aims and his fist appears next to your collarbone, you move your body out of the way. He does it again, this time it comes next to your left shoulder. You grab his wrist with both hands and block it. He doesn't miss the way you needed both hands to wrap around his wrist. He moves again, fist to the right of your face. Your eyes widen and he shushes you and you relax. You both know he wouldn't make a move to successfully cause you harm.

This goes on and on for what seems like forever. Your stamina has dwindled down a while ago and he can tell how tired you are. He thinks about cutting training early, but for his own selfish reasons he decides against it. He doesn't want your time together to end. Still, you're barely putting in any effort and you're certainly not trying to hide it from your instructor. His eyes haven't left you since the session began and he was very pleased with all the intel he’s received. Your short, panted breaths. The way your cheeks and neck flushed with that pretty shade of pink that suited you so well. Your wide eyes, how they seemed to sparkle under the annoyingly bright lights of the gym. How they seemed to water whenever he stared into them for too long. Your wobbling lip whenever you got a little too into it. How you went out of your way to put both of your hands on him, regardless of if it was beneficial or not. The way you didn't even move out of the way of his punches anymore. You just watched the muscles of his arms flex and wished they were around you instead.

“You gotta put in some more effort for me, princess. I know you can do it,” he tells you, cooing at the way you whine at him, silently wishing he would end training early. He chuckles. “C’mon, block em’, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes and try to muster up whatever strength left in your exhausted body. Your hands meet his and successfully block a hit. He doesn't forget how you rolled your eyes, though. What he wouldn't do to have you bent over his lap for that. He finishes with the punches and leads you to the equipment.

He stands you in front of the power rack looking thing, gripping your waist and holding you up, waiting for you to grab onto the handles on top. “Chin-ups. Fifteen of em’,” he tells you and you groan. He knows you hate chin ups. “Tsk, tsk. C’mon, princess. Don't make it twenty. These help with your shoulder and bicep strength. Use an underhand grip, palms facing you.” You sigh and get into position, starting what he told you to do. You made sure to be as dramatic as possible, though; you were too tired to keep the brat in you at bay. Jason, on the other hand, doesnt try to hide the way he is blatantly staring at your ass, thighs and waist. He burns the image in his mind and moves closer to you, holding onto your waist to make you feel secure.

You huff and sigh out, hoping he’ll give into you. Throughout the entirety of the session, his hands have been on you. His breath has been on your neck. The feel of his body on yours. Him in your proximity. It was frustrating. Having him so close, but far away. Little did you know he felt the same. His hands move to rub encouraging circles into your hips and you whimper out loud, to your embarrassment. He doesn't even try to hide his smirk, though. Once the exercises are done, he holds onto you, purposefully moving his big hands to rest on your ass, bringing you down. You’re done with his teasing and turn around, pressing your palms flat to his chest and keeping him at bay. You signal with your eyes that you’re not in the mood for the teasing and he coos, holding your face between his two hands. “Is there something you want, baby?” you whine and cry out for him trying to hide your face into his chest but he only lifts your chin back up so he can see you. “Come on, sweetheart, if you want something you have to ask for it.” “hmph! I want you to stop teasing me, Jason!” He smiles wickedly and lets you go. “Training is over,” he states simply and you sigh contentedly, walking to the locker room.

Before you can open it, though, Jason’s hand wraps around your wrist and you turn to him. “You didn't actually think I was done with you, did you?” he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. He opens the door to the locker room and guides you into it before locking the door. In an instant you're pressed against the door, cold wood on your back, and Jason’s mouth on yours. It's not much of a fight for dominance, his tongue having beat yours instantly. It feels heavenly. Not just the feel of his tongue in your mouth, tasting yours, but finally all this pent up tension leaving your body. You sigh into the kiss, Jason’s hand comes up behind your neck to grab the hair at the base and you mewl against him.

You were losing oxygen and his kisses traveled from your lips, to your chin, to your jaw, the sweet spot on your neck. His big hands wrapped tightly around your waist and the feel of his open-mouthed kisses on your neck has your jaw slack and breathing uneven. He smiles at the way you look like a puppy with your open mouth and panting, practically drooling.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

You were practically soaking through your panties by now and the tenderness of his words and low pitch of his voice certainly wasn't helping. You nod a yes and throw your head back at the feel of his harsh sucking on your neck and collarbone. He growls and spanks your bottom, “I need words, Y/N,” he commands and you whine out loud yet again. “Yes! Please, need you, Jason,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.

Carrying the two of you, he picks you up and holds you against him. Your legs wrapped against his waist and he sits down on a bench, you still on his lap. His kisses don't stop and the feel is euphoric. His hands haven't stopped roaming your body. The feel of his big hands groping at your soft, supple flesh through the clothing separating you from him combined with just…him, was damn near enough to make you go crazy. You were tugging at his hair and pressing your face against the crook of his neck, desperate to smell his pheromones and your soft lips pressing kisses of your own against his neck had him hard against you already. When you felt his hardness against your tummy you gasped and tugged on his hair a tad bit harder and he moaned against you. Little curses left his mouth and you were seeing stars. Nothing had barely even happened and you were already this close to being admitted into Arkham Asylum.

Suddenly his hands paused their movements and his tone became one of seriousness. He grabbed your chin and forced your face towards his. Your pretty little glossed over eyes shining up into his had his breath hitch and for a split second he forgot what he needed to do. He could see the curiosity on your face, your teeth tugging your lower lip and he had to avert his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N. I need to tell you something. I-I like you, Y/N. And not just in a friendship way. I understand—” he started but you cut him off, lurching towards him even more and grabbing his head between your hands, kissing him with a force you didn't know you could possess. He could feel you smile into the kiss and he let you have control this time. Not for long, though. He grabbed your hair into his fist and you gasped. “I-I like you, too, Jason. Have for a while now,” you mumbled against him and he grabbed your plump bottom with both hands, bringing your body flush with his. This only fueled the fire, though; his rock hard cock straining against his pants feeling your core against him had him clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, trying to control himself a little bit.

“I like you a lot, Jason. A lot a lot,” you whimpered against his lips and he smiled. You could see the genuinity in his eyes and the softness in his smile. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead and then one on your nose and finally one on your lips. “I'm glad, sweetheart. Very glad,” and with that he grabbed your hips and shifted your legs a little bit. He forcedly rocked your clothed cunt against his hardness and your eyes closed, head tossed back. It was almost too much, too fucking much. You had been teased all night long and with all this foreplay you weren't sure if you would last. You tried to paw his hands off of your hips and stop your movement, but you just weren't strong enough. His devilish grin staring up at you, his pretty girl, had you whining and grow the ache in your pussy. “Stop, ‘s too much, stop, please, Jay,” you begged against him and all he could do was smile. “Stop? You want me to stop? But I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he teased. He knew he was teasing the damnit out of you. Even as you begged for mercy, there you were, still riding his clothed dick. You couldn't help but follow his lead though, your hips couldn't help but relish in the feeling of his hands tight on them, guiding you back and forth. Even if you wanted to you weren't sure if you could stop. God, it felt so good. Nothing you had ever felt like before. His hands on your hips and his mouth abusing your sensitive skin. The hardness of him grinding directly onto your clit. It was all so amazing.

He could tell you were close. He’s never had you before but he already knew all your tells. Your panting and labored breaths. The way you couldn't keep your eyes open. The stuttering of your hip movement. How you tried to get closer to him, even though you were flush to him. Gasps and whimpers leaving your mouth. Your hands tried to paw his hands away yet again. Think you’d learn the first time. His mouth went right back to sucking marks into your skin and he cooed at you. “C’mon, babygirl. You can do it. I know you need it, sweetheart. Just let go and cum for me,” he softly commanded. Hips following his words, your pace quickened and he ground you down onto him. His own hips jerked up and his cock spanked your core. Within moments the climax unraveled and you let out a screech. The white hot bliss greeted you and the power of your orgasm could be felt in every nerve ending of your body. You shook for a good thirty seconds and your vision went blurry. You slumped against him tiredly and he chuckled. His soothing hands rubbing circles into your back and sweet nothings helped calm you down and your high rode out. You lazily started unbuckling his belt and he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. Oh how you liked the feel of his hands grabbing you like that. “Tsk, tsk, Princess. ‘M not done with you yet.”

In an instant he was untying your shoe laces, kicking them off your feet and forcing your pants down to your ankles. His hands ripped your panties off and you were exposed. The brisk air was biting against your wet cunt and you gasped slightly. He raised you up against the lockers and wrapped your legs around his head, hands planted firmly on your ass holding you midair. The smell of your arousal and the previous orgasm dripping everywhere had him painfully hard. “Tell me if it's too much, baby, and I’ll stop, okay?” You whispered a ‘yes’ and he finally satiated his desire to have your cunt in his mouth. His mouth went straight for your clit and you shrieked at the feeling. His light little sucks on the nub had you rolling your eyes back and jerking your hips. Continuous moans leaving your mouth only encouraging him. He licked a stripe straight up and down the length of your pussy and his own moans left him. You tasted fucking delicious. Like everything he had imagined. All those times he imagined how you’d feel and he was finally fucking seeing for himself. He felt like a kid on goddamn Christmas, his hands tightening his grip on your ass. You were sure there’d be handprints in the morning. His thumb went to rub rough circles on your little bundle of nerves while he thrust his tongue in and out of your weeping hole. You started to cry out for him, hands pushing against his head and fingers gripping his hair attempting to pull him off of your pussy. Absolute the fuck not. He looked to his right and to his luck there was a set of resistance training bands hanging from a hook. He smirked and looked up at your fucked out face and he chuckled to himself. Holding you up with one hand, he reached to his side and grabbed a cable band. You watched his movement and saw what he was doing and your eyes widened. The kinky bitch. “C’mon, princess. Give em to me. Since you don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, I have to take em away from you,” he teased playfully condescending. He tied your hands together behind your back with the workout gear and he hummed satisfied with himself before resuming his meal. He was fucking merciless with his tongue and you soon learned your crush was a borderline sadist. His mouth wrapped around your clit and his sucks were harsh and unforgiving. Like a man starved, he ate you like you were the last source of hope for his soul. His finger started fucking you, too. He started with one but your drenched hole quickly accommodated for more. Soon enough you were on the brink of another orgasm and he forced it from you roughly. “Again, sweetness. You can cum again, cant you? Give me another.”

The orgasm brought tears to your eyes and you wouldn't stop shaking. Your thighs were quaking around his head and your back arched off of the cool metal of the lockers you were propped against. Toes curling, head thrown back, continuous moans and screams leaving your lips. Your second climax of the night arrived and you screamed into the locker room, little sobs leaving your ruined body. He let you ride out your orgasm against his tongue until he was fully content and gently brought you down, placing one last kiss against your lower body. He sucked his fingers that were just shoved inside you, not breaking eye contact with your tired eyes. He placed his forehead against your own and wiped away your tears.

“You okay, baby? Was that too much?” he asked worriedly. He didnt want to fuck up his first time with you and feared he lost control of himself. You smiled tiredly against him and shook your head lightly. “‘M okay, promise. Jus’ need you, Jason.” He smiled and shuffled you towards the mirror and sinks. He took off his shirt and laid it on the edge of one of the sinks he was about to bend you over. You realized it was for your comfort and smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell up. Even when he was about to absolutely obliterate your cunt, he still managed to be a gentleman. He unbuckled his pants and finally his cock sprung up. He sighed, finally feeling relief. He watched you stare at his size through the mirror, seeing your eyes widen and your teeth tug on your lip. He lightly guided you into the position he wanted you in and you sighed contently, feeling comforted by the thought you would finally be fucked by him. Watching him pull a condom out of nowhere and rip it open with his teeth had you on the edge of your seat. He sheathed himself with it and made sure everything was ready. “Ya’ ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked while lining his tip up with your entrance, smearing your wetness all around his head. You gasped and shouted a little “yes” and he chuckled, sinking in. Even with two orgasms loosening your little cunt up for him, he was still a little much to adjust to. Both of your heads tossed back in sync and you closed your eyes, sighing for him. You worked your hips against him, wanting to feel more. He grunted and grabbed you by your hair, bringing your head up to look in the mirror. “Keep your eyes up here, baby.”

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he slid almost all the way out and then re-entered your warm, wet heat. It felt so good. He set a pace and it was so heavenly. You could cry with how good it felt. You both needed this, needed this release for all the pent up frustrations in your lives. Sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and his grunts and your little sighs filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. His hands were on either side of your hips and his eyes met yours in the mirror. It was fucking exotic. Seeing your eyes perfectly, watching the pleasure unravel on your face. Pleasure he was giving you. His pace quickened a hair and you gasped. Your hips moved backwards against him, in time with his thrusts. You felt him deeper and the perfect rhythm of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you almost hypnotized you. He smirked a little bit as he watched your fucked out face in the mirror. No thoughts, head empty. It was clear only pleasure was what you felt.

You didn't even notice him reaching above the both of you and retrieving something from the cabinet. Only when you heard the familiar buzzing noise did you wake up from the transe you were in and see what he had in the mirror. A muscle massage gun. For a moment you were a little confused, why was he hurt? Then you felt the big spherical head of the gun against your clit and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for the umpth time that night. He smiled and cooed at you from above. Yeah, he was definitely a sadist. He angled the gun a little bit to the left, wanting to overstimulate your abused little button. His thrusts hadnt ended and it was too fucking much. His pace was faster and harder and deeper now and had you both moaning up a storm. Your hands were finding themselves gripped onto the sink counter and you were struggling to keep your eyes open and in the mirror. He moved the massage gun setting higher and kept it firm against you. Your thighs were shaking and you were glad you were being held against the sink by him. You weren't sure you would be able to keep yourself up if you weren't.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Give me one more, please. I know you can. Cum for me, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes, feeling bliss about to erupt in you again. He quickly corrected you, though. His hand not being used to hold the machine to your clit came up to your throat, squeezing lightly on the sides. Not enough to cause genuine pain or prevent oxygen into your blood, just enough to give you that lightheadedness and in an instant you came on his cock. Your final orgasm was so intense and pleasurable—not surprisingly—and it lasted nearly thirty seconds. He removed the massage gun and returned both hands to your waist. His brutal thrusts as he chased his own orgasm helped you ride it all out. That blissful feeling that lasted longer than your orgasm did. All the stress leaving your body. Finally his sputtering hips stilled as he emptied his hot load into the condom and you whined, half wishing he was emptying himself into your wet little cunt instead. One day.

You both sighed and felt content again. You were sated and had finally gotten what you wanted. His loving palm rubbing circles into your lower belly, soothing you. He peppered light kisses on your skin and slowly slid out of your heat. He turned you around and kissed your forehead. All this loving kissing of his was making you wanna cry, it felt so good. Not just to be fucked right by him, but to have him, too. He was yours, now. And you were finally his. He grabbed your face between his palms and gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You okay, baby? Was that good? I didn't hurt you did I?” You smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Jay. I'm perfect. You were amazing,” you reassured him with a blush.

He picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter and got a washcloth from a basket, wetting it under the sink. He wiped the sweat and cum off your body and gave a kiss to each spot after it was clean. He helped dress you and by the time he was carrying you making his way to your room in the manor it was late. He opened your door and locked it behind him, leading you both to your attached bathroom. He undressed you again and turned on the shower. He lightly coaxed you in, seeing as you were so drowsy from all the night’s activities. He undressed himself and got in, lathering your body wash on a loofah and cleaning you. He wanted to make sure his baby was clean and cozy and content. When he was done washing you, he washed himself and enjoyed smelling like you a little too much. He carried you out of the shower and dried you off, clothing you in jammies and then put on some clothes you had stolen from him a while back.

He held you in his arms and you two cuddled each other all night long. You were his now and he couldn't be happier.

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atinylittlepain · 9 months

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Born in the USA - Part One of Hungry Hearts

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, eventual smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

a/n | hellooooo, folks, and welcome to the first installation of my Hungry Hearts series! i'm so stoked to share this one with y'all, as always let me know what you think!

...................................

The radio DJ called for record-breaking heat simmering the streets of Austin this week, and he certainly delivered. Too hot to think, too hot work, too hot to do much of anything until the sun starts to melt down in the late afternoons. She swears that she can feel the rubber soles of her sneakers sticking to the sidewalk with each step, the heat pressing humid hands to the back of her neck, sweat pooling in all the soft dips of her body. And it’s not like she wants to be out here in the first place. In fact, she would much rather be sitting in front of the box fan in her room right now, calculating how many days, hours, and minutes until she’ll be leaving again for school. It can’t come soon enough.

Nothing much has changed around her neighborhood since she was home in December for her holiday break. Same houses with the sleepy looking windows and basketball hoops in the driveways, same families with the nosey wives and oblivious husbands, same kids getting older and taller and more socially awkward. And the same empty lot at the end of the cul-de-sac that had been turned into patchy baseball field when she was in the first grade.

“Outfield, bring it in a little for this next one!”

“Fuck you, Miller! You’re gonna be eating those words!”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, kid. Show us what you got, why don’t you?” And that’s the same too, unfortunately.

“That’s a strike, wouldn’t you say, Tommy?”

“Sure looked like a strike to me, Joel.” All a bit juvenile, though she would expect nothing less from the Miller brothers. They’re in fine form this afternoon, she thinks, and it seems that all the other girls home from college think the same thing as well, hanging off the chain-link fence and tittering to each other about every ball Joel fields or every fifteen-year-old Tommy stamps out on first. Joel’s idea, no doubt, his eighteen-year-old brother always too happy to hang onto his shirttails and terrorize the pubescent neighborhood kids.

And for his part, Joel seems to know he’s garnered a small audience, just a touch too much flare when the teams switch out and he steps up to bat. He’s dressed in an obscenely short pair of cut-offs, frayed hems grazing along the tan, corded muscles of his thighs. Hi-tops and tube socks, and what once could have been called a shirt, now cropped and unbuttoned so it doesn’t do much but blow in the breeze and expose the lean tautness of his torso. Stance wide, leaning down low in his hips, he winds up the bat right behind his head and lets it rip entirely too hard on the lob he was pitched by that poor fifteen-year-old, sending the ball soaring right over the fence. She has to scoff when the girls she’s standing next to actually clap for him while he drinks it up as he takes a leisurely jog around the plates before jumping down on home with both his feet. And yeah, she thinks, not much has changed, at all.

“Will! Mom wants you home for dinner, let’s go!” Her baby brother, who has decided he is definitely not a baby anymore, does not like her shouting at him one bit, entirely ignoring her with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head from where he’s standing covering first base. Someone else, however, is more than happy to take notice of her.

“Is that? Oh shit! Cherry!” Long and drawn out, Cherryyyyyyyy, with a low whistle at the end. She hasn’t been called that since the last time she saw him, which was last summer in about this same position. Though if there’s one thing she’s gotten good at, it’s ignoring Joel Miller.

“Will, let’s go please!”

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! Why don’t you come over here and show these kids how it’s done? From what I remember you always had a mean little swing.” That gets most of the kids on the field laughing as Joel and Tommy snicker to each other in the makeshift dug out, more of a dirt ditch with a sheet of metal over top of it than anything else.

“Will, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Now.” Maybe she looks like a bitch stomping out onto the field to grab her brother by the arm. She doesn’t care. She’s hot and has sweat dripping in places that sweat should never drip and is coming dangerously close to throttling Joel in front of his little fan club if he doesn’t shut his smug mouth real soon.

“Stop, you’re embarrassing me.” Will doesn’t budge from first when she hooks her hand around his bicep, brooding at her from beneath his bowl cut.

“Do you think I want to be taking you home? Just do me a favor and stop trying to act all tough in front of your little friends so I can go home and get mom off my ass.”

“Hey, Cherry, he’s already got one mom. He doesn’t need you nagging him too!” Joel’s dig drums up another round of laughs from the whole field, and suddenly she’s reconsidering that whole throttling thing. Fine, she thinks, she can do nagging, just wait and see how good she can do nagging. She shifts her tactic, grabbing her brother by the back of his neck instead and starting to haul him along beside her, not giving him time to do anything but trip over his feet in a stilted shuffle to keep up. And of course, it is at that moment that Joel gets the whole crowd of kids started in a chorus of boos.

“Damn, Cherry, when did you become such a tight-ass?” Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the girls still standing along the fence shooting her daggers, maybe it’s just a little bit of all of it that makes her stop dead in her tracks when Joel says that. But before she really knows what she’s doing, she has let go of her brother to march right over to home plate. Seeming a bit surprised that she did, Joel scrambles out of the dug out still too smug for her taste when he comes chest to chest with her.

“Well are you going to give me a bat or what?” His smirk slips into a full grin at that, and for a moment she remembers how pretty she always thought he was. Strong jaw, dark eyes, and that shock of thick, brown hair of his. Such a shame that he’s an enormous tool, really.

“I tell you what, Cherry, what time does your mom want Will home every night?” She knows that look he has in his eyes, all squinted up with his mouth screwed to one side. Always a sucker for a challenge, and she’s all too happy to play along.

“Seven o’clock, why?” He leans in a little closer, ducking his head down like he has the most delicious secret to tell her. She can see the sweat beading and pooling in the hollow of his throat he’s so close.

“Seven o’clock, alright, Cherry. If you can hit a homerun, I will personally see to it that Will is home at seven o’clock on the dot every night for the rest of the summer. How’s that sound?” She tilts her head, hands on her hips like she’s giving it a good think before finally answering him.

“Does he really hang out with you every night?” Joel snorts, his smile going slanted at her.

“Well, someone’s got to keep the kid entertained since you got all boring, miss college.”

“Fine, give me a bat.” That gets her a big grin from him as he backpedals to the dug out to grab a bat for her.

“Let’s switch out who’s fielding. I wanna be on short stop for this hit.” Of course he does. But she thinks to herself that that’s just fine, she’s going to give him a hit to remember.

Tommy was always the nicer of the pair, and as he walks out of the dugout to cover first, he offers her a smile and a shrug as if to apologize for his brother’s dramatics. She always liked Tommy better, even as kids.

She hasn’t done this in a long time. Not since before puberty, probably. She used to play every summer with the Millers and all the other neighborhood kids in this exact lot, and it starts to come back to her as she toes the rubber of her sneakers against home plate. Her palms twist up on the bat, hips shimmying down and back a little to get into the stance, trying her best to focus on the pitcher and not the drawling heckling going on between second and third. He’s doing a warbling rendition of that old Four Seasons song, and she’s pretty sure that the name in the lyrics is Sherry, not Cherry. But he has made it fit with his own demented drone, crooning as he sways a little side to side.

Cherryyyyy, Cherry, baby, Cherryyyyy, can you come out tonight

Youuuuu better ask your mama, Cherry baby

Deep breath in, deep breath out, she has her eyes focused on the ball leaving the soft cradle of the pitcher’s fingers. Like riding a bike, really, the quick swing in her hips and the satisfying crack of the ball hitting the middle of her bat, and, oh. Oh.

“Motherfucker!” It’s not like she meant to, but it’s also not like she’s mad that she did. It was a nice hit, strong and straight, right between second and third. And, well, straight into Joel’s groin.

“What are you doing? Get up, man!” Tommy is all but shrieking at his brother. Joel, however, is still crumpled on the ground and groaning, his hands clenched between his thighs from what she can tell with her quick glances as she jogs from first to second. But she quickly realizes that it’s not just his hands clutched between his legs, but the ball too. And, well, it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon to field that one.

“If you could have him home more around ten till that’d be great, thanks.” If he hears her talking over his curled up body, he makes no show of it, still groaning and writhing around in the dirt with his eyes scrunched shut. She steps over him and continues a much more leisurely pace through third and home.

“Will, let’s go.” Her brother, slack-jawed with his eyes practically popping out of his head, finally listens to her, falling into step alongside her as she can’t help a smirk sliding over her lips. She has to roll her eyes when several of the girls rush out onto the field to fawn over Joel who still seems to be incapacitated and on his knees.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” She tries not to laugh at Will’s exclamation, bumping his shoulder with her own as they start to head home.

“He’ll live.”

…

Sure, he’s always had a competitive streak, he’s not about to deny that. But that competitive streak may, emphasis on may, have gotten a little out of hand now that it’s his baby girl that’s in the competition and not him. Sarah has a talk with him before every game about it. About not yelling at the umpire, about not constantly asking her if she’s staying hydrated in the dugout, and, what she calls the most important point, about not trying to heckle the other team. And everytime, Joel promises her that, yes, he’s going to keep his cool and stay on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. And he tries, he really does. But, well, try is the operative word.

“Alright, babygirl, just like we practiced. Keep your eye on the ball and let your hips lead.” It’s the middle of June, the sun bright and beating down hard on the local ball fields where Joel spends most of his weekends cheering Sarah on in her softball matches. He is not sitting on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. He is hovering at the side of the dug-out with his head stuck out just enough that the umpire won’t yell at him to get back while he coaches Sarah on her swing. Sarah, however, does not seem particularly grateful for his pointers, glaring at him from beneath her helmet as she steps up to the plate.

“Strike!” Swing and a miss. Joel has to remind himself that no, it is not appropriate to swear at a little league softball game, settling instead for a quick clap of his hands.

“That’s alright, baby, that’s alright. Shake it off, baby, focus.”

“Dad, please.” She says it with a dejected tap of her bat against the plate, the universal sign for back off, now. And sure, he thinks, he can back off, a few feet back toward the bleachers so his girl can focus on her swing, sure.

“Strike two!”

“Goddamnit.” He says it quietly enough that he’s pretty sure no one else hears it before stepping back closer to the plate, because obviously Sarah needs a little help here.

“C’mon, baby, you got this. Shake it off. Don’t choke up on the bat like that, baby, nice and easy.”

“Strike three, you’re–”

“Hey, that wasn’t a strike!” Sarah is going to be so mad at him on the drive home, but he’s too busy stepping over to the umpire to yell at him to be worried about that right now.

“Sir, please go sit down on the bleachers.”

“That pitch was way to the right, I saw it, that wasn’t a strike.”

“Dad, it’s fine, I’m out. Just go sit down, please.” Sarah has already taken her helmet off, nudging her bat into the toe of his boot like, hello, you’re embarrassing me here. But Joel knows what he saw, and what he saw was a way to the right pitch that most certainly was not a strike.

“Baby, you are not out, okay? Put your helmet back on.”

“Sir, your daughter is out, now please go sit–”

“Just give her one more shot, man. C’mon.”

“Hey! Three strikes and you’re out, buddy.” It’s a woman’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him, a parent from the other team most likely, though he doesn’t turn around to see who it is, still staring down the umpire.

“That wasn’t a strike!” He tosses the exclamation over his shoulder, but the woman doesn’t seem ready to back down either.

“Are you saying my daughter doesn’t know how to pitch?” Alright, lady, if you want in on the action, be his guest. He turns around slowly, ready to deliver some sort of clever reply that he hasn’t quite worked out in his mind when–

“Oh shit. Cherry?”

“Wow, I haven’t been called that in nearly two decades.” So it is her. And of course it’s her. He’d recognize her anywhere, even seventeen years later. Still that little jut of her hip when she’s pissed, still that little crook of her chin like a challenge, even seventeen years later.

“So you’re still a competitive bastard then?” Yeah, and still that too, seventeen years later.

“I– you– that wasn’t a strike.”

“Oh, yes it was.”

“It was not.”

“My daughter doesn’t pitch balls on two strikes, okay? That was a strike.” With that, she leans to the side to talk to Sarah standing behind him.

“My condolences to you for having to deal with him, kid.”

“Thanks, you’re catching him on a good day, actually.”

“Hey.” He whips around to scold Sarah, but she’s still focused on Cherry.

“How do you know my dad?”

“Oh, me and him go way back. Don’t we, Joel?” He finds himself opening and closing his mouth a few times, looking between Sarah and a woman he thought he would never see again, though before he can get a reply out, the umpire mercifully cuts off their little reunion.

“Folks, there is still an active game going on here. Sir, your daughter is out, so if you could all please get off of home plate so we can keep this game going that’d be great.” Sarah has to tug him back to her team’s dugout, promptly pushing him over and onto the bleachers while he continues to stare at Cherry like she might disappear. She has walked back to the bleachers for her daughter’s team, though she stands on the sideline with her hands on her hips now.

“You’re all good, Els. Just keep them coming, babe.” His attention draws over to the pitcher to whom Cherry is talking to because, right, she’s Cherry’s daughter. Cherry has a daughter, holy shit. Well, so does he. He has to laugh to himself, a little shake to his head.

A lot can certainly happen in seventeen years.

…

The thing that she hadn’t considered in agreeing to Joel Miller’s little deal was that it would still mean seeing a good amount of Joel Miller. Seven o’clock every night to be exact. Actually, ten till, so he did listen, at least. And of course he’s all smiles and charm, and of course her mother invites him in for dinner every night, and of course he says yes, and of course she has to sit across from him, kicking away his foot every time it encroaches on her space.

“So, Joel, are you still over at Thatcher’s full time?” She tries not to scoff at her mother’s question, the subtle turn of her nose and the slight tinge of judgment quirking up the end of her words. Her mother and her penchant for pedigree, something that the Miller family definitively does not have. If it bothers him, however, Joel doesn’t show it, smiling and thumbing the corner of his mouth as he finishes chewing.

“Yes, ma’am, seven days a week.”

“And does that pay well, son?” Ah yes, the one-two tag team of her mother and father both jumping in now, her father doing that thing where he pretends not to know, his eyebrows falling in mock curiosity. When, really, she’s nearly certain he has already calculated in his head exactly how much Joel makes in a week, month, and year busting his ass in that mechanic shop.

“Well, sir, I’ve got no complaints. Roof over my head and food on my table. And, uh, the tips are pretty good.” That one flies right over both her parents’ heads, but he says it looking directly at her, his eyes crinkling up with a smile that only tugs one corner of his mouth, sleaze and smarm. She is well aware of the tips he pulls in from all the bored little housewives and their daughters, something that always seems to be the topic of conversation on the loungers at the community pool.

If he’s trying to get a rise out of her right now, she’s going to make sure he fails at it, giving him a tight-lipped smile and kicking his shin hard under the table where his foot has started to nudge against hers again. Joel lets out a hard cough, the table shaking a bit when his knee jumps up in reaction.

“Alright, son?”

“Yessir, I think all this heat is finally getting to me is all. I better head on home, but thank y’all for the meal, it’s very kind of you.” Her mother frets and fusses over him, insisting he take a tupperware of meatloaf and salad home and telling him to bring Tommy along next time. Great, she thinks, frick and frack both coming for dinner will be double the fun. Though she’s quickly distracted from that thought when her father lets out a long sigh from the head of the table.

“Such a shame that young man is working like that. It’s a waste of potential, honestly.”

“Oh, honey, don’t.”

“I’m serious, Carol. He was always a smart kid, probably could have gone to college, but instead he’s working in that car shop with seemingly no drive for anything more for himself. I just can’t believe Deedee and Hank are letting him carry on like that.” She knows this spiel well. Next her father will angle his chair toward Will and level his finger at him and–

“Will, you know what I was doing when I was Joel’s age?” Will huffs and rolls his eyes, slumping back in his chair like this is the hundredth time he has heard this, probably because it is.

“Getting ready for law school, dad.”

“I was getting ready for– yes, son, that’s right. And now look at me. Beautiful home, beautiful family, and a good job. Do you know what Joel Miller is going to have to show for himself at my age if he keeps going the way he is now?”

“A whole lot of nothing, dad.”

“A whole lot of– yes, son, that’s right. At this rate, he’s probably still going to be living in that shoebox apartment above Thatcher’s when he’s forty.”

“Can I be excused please?” She tries to hold back the contempt snapping through her words, already getting out of her seat before her mother can ask her what’s wrong. For as much as Joel Miller gets on her nerves, she hates this more, this faux pity her father so easily slips into, turning him into a lesson. And not a very good one at that, because while Joel may not be in college or raking in money, he at least seems happy, and she thinks that’s more than her father can say. She knows it’s more than she can say, staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom, this time trying to calculate the minutes until she gets to go back to school. She only makes it through tallying up the rest of June though before something tapping on her window distracts her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey, Cherry.” He’s lucky her room is on the first floor, or else she would have already shut her window. Though she can’t really do that when he’s standing right there in her mother’s shrubs with a wide grin that glints in the hazy dusk.

“What do you want, Joel?”

“Mikey Donahue is having a party at his house. You wanna come? Have a little fun?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” She goes to shut her window again, but Joel holds it in place, not letting it budge no matter how hard she pushes down on it.

“Oh, c’mon. You used to be fun, what happened to that girl, huh?”

“I grew up, which seems to be more than you can say.”

“Oh, how you wound me, Cherry baby.”

“When are you going to stop calling me that? Nobody else calls me that these days except for you.”

“When you do something funnier than snorting cherry cola out of your nose.” At this point, she has given up on trying to close the window, resting her palms along the sill to lean out so she can whisper yell right into his entirely too smug face.

“I was nine, Joel. And it was your fault for making me laugh that hard.”

“So you admit that I make you laugh?”

“You’re impossible.”

“That wasn’t a no, Cher.” All she can do is huff at him and his relentless grin, taking a moment to look him over. A little more dressed than usual, still in those cut-offs of his, but with an actual flannel shirt on top, sleeves rucked up to his elbows and with a few more buttons undone than what had been during dinner, slipping open even more when he leans down with his hands spread wide on the sill.

“Come on, it’s summer, and I know you’re not having any fun up in Chicago–”

“I have plenty of fun in Chicago.” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead when she interrupts him so quick, the snap of her words telling him just how untrue that statement actually is.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. Just do an old friend a favor, Cherry, and come out with me tonight, huh? Really, it’s the least you can do after you almost busted my balls.”

“I was doing a public good by lessening the chances of little Joel Millers running around here in the future.” He lets out a long laugh at that, tossing his head back, the long line of his neck bobbing with the sound.

“Touché, but fine, if you don’t wanna come I guess I could always go knock on Lisa-Anne’s window. She got home last week.” He knows exactly what he’s doing by saying that, already pushing off the window and starting to walk away. Fine, she thinks, he can go have fun with stupid fucking Lisa-Anne from down the block. It’ll probably make her whole summer considering that she’s had a crush on him since his front teeth came in in the second grade.

“Joel, wait!” He stops dead in his tracks, one foot still stuck in the shrubs outside her window as he turns around, his lips pursed to stave off what she’s sure would be a shit-eating grin. She’s already swinging one leg out of her window, trying to do so with as much grace as she can, though she still stumbles a bit in the shrubs,grabbing onto Joel’s arm to steady herself before quickly letting go with a huff.

“Just for a little while, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Cherry baby.”

…

He’s not sure what the appropriate thing to do is in this situation. Not really any rules of etiquette for seeing a woman you didn’t think you’d ever see again, seventeen years later, and with a kid no less. All he knows is that he can’t let her drive off without saying something, so even as Sarah is calling his name like a question, he’s walking through the ballfield parking lot toward where she’s helping her daughter pack her bags into the trunk of their minivan.

“Uh, hey.” Great start, man, Jesus Christ. She turns around and smiles, smiles, and suddenly it’s summer of ‘86 all over again.

“Woah, old man, back off a little.” And suddenly it is most definitely not summer of ‘86, her kid stepping between the two of them and giving him a look that could kill.

“Ellie, manners please. Why don’t you wait in the car?”

“But, mom–”

“No buts, it’s fine, alright? I’ll just be a minute.” Her daughter, Ellie, huffs, giving him one more squinted look before she shuffles over to the side of the car, getting in with a hard slam of her door.

“So, mom, huh?” She tilts her head at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and her shoulders shrugging up.

“It looks that way. And dad?” She jerks her chin over his shoulder and he turns around to see Sarah standing by their car with one hand held over her eyes for shade as she squints at them. She’s never going to let him live this down.

“Looks that way, yeah. Are you– I didn’t– you’re back in town?” He’s trying to subtly look for a ring on her left hand, though her knuckles are still tucked into her jean pockets, and he’s pretty sure squinting at her pelvis is not a good way to make an impression in this unexpected reunion.

“Yeah, we moved back at the start of June.”

“And when you say we, that’s– that’s you and–”

“Just Ellie and I, yep.” He has to try really hard not to smile at that, dragging a palm down his scruff to keep it at bay.

“So you never left, huh?”

“Uh, no, nope. Hopped a few neighborhoods over though. I don’t know if you heard, but the old block got torn down.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was, they put in a bunch of condos over it.”

“Well I guess the times really have changed.” He should probably say something else, should probably get back to Sarah, but he can’t stop looking at her, and it seems like she can’t stop looking at him. Both of them studying all the places that time and life has settled. Her hair is shorter, he likes it, though he probably should keep that to himself. Before he can say anything, however, the blare of a car horn startles them both out of each other’s gaze.

“Mom, let’s go.” Ellie has stuck her head out of the driver side window, the source of their interruption, already tucking back inside the car with another groan. Cherry just shakes her head.

“That’s my cue. I guess we’ll see each other around then, since our daughters are playing in the same league and all.” It still gives him pause, our daughters, and he has to clear his throat before responding.

“I guess so, reckon we’re gonna give the umps a summer to remember.” She laughs, and he remembers that sound, still the same. He didn’t think he’d ever get to hear it again, but now he’s glad that he does.

“For the record, that was a strike.”

“Whatever you say, Cherry.”

“Can’t believe you’re still calling me that.”

“Can’t believe you never did anything funnier than snorting cherry coke out of your nose.” All he gets from her at that is another shake of her head before she turns around to get in her car. Luckily, she doesn’t see the way he runs right into the open trunk of someone else’s car because of the way he’s slowly shuffling backward to get one more look at those jeans of hers from behind. He only realizes that he’s smiling like a fool when he gets into the car and Sarah shoots him a look from the passenger seat.

“Okay, you’re acting weird. Who was that?”

“Just a very old friend.”

........................................

tags for the moots and folks i think are interested - lmk if you want added or dropped : @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #hungry hearts

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louloulemons-posts · 6 months

Note

Could you do an Eddie fic where reader has a cold and he takes care of her I have a cold rn and I feel like i'm dying 😭❤️

Sniffles and Snuggles

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Warnings : not proofread, petnames, medication mentioned, the readers sick??

A/N : Hellooooo! Thank you so much for the request, i hope this was okay for you and you enjoyed 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d felt awful all day, a cold had been going round and it had finally made its way to you. Sat in bed, tissues everywhere, a hot cup of honey and lemon on the side.

Sniffing filled the otherwise quiet room, your nose was stuffy and you just felt gross. It was the worst. Letting out a loud sneeze, you groaned as your head hit the soft pillows behind.

You’d been attempting to sleep it off all day, but had been woken every time by a violent cough or someone coming to bring you medication.

A small tapping noise confused your foggy mind, scrunching your face you pushed up to a sitting position. The tap came again. Looking over at your window with confusion, you saw a small stone hit it - the tapping noise.

Climbing out of bed on wobbly legs, you stumbled over to your window, pulling it open. There stood your boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper shouted. “Coming to make sure you’re okay,” he smiled.

“Eddie my parents will kill you.”

“That’s why they’ll never know I’m here.”

Sighing, you shook your head, making your way back to bed. Knowing that Eddie was currently scrambling up the drain - how this boy had survived this long you had no idea.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he fell through the window, making your throat tickle - once again sending you into a coughing fit.

“Oh Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed, shutting the window and making his way to you. His cool hands fell on your warm face, making you hum. “Feel nice?”

“Very,” you croaked.

“Brought you some treats.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, but my girl is sick.” You were about to reply when another voice came from outside your door. Eddie flung himself on the floor, shuffling under your bed.

“Honey you okay?”

“Yeah dad, sorry I was just using the bathroom and tripped.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay, just going to try and sleep.”

“Okay Honey, well I’ll come and check on your later.”

Listening to his footsteps get further away, eventually going down the stairs. “Munson, you can come out now.” Curly hair covered the majority of his face. “It’s a good look for you,” you teased, as he climbed back on the bed.

“Wow I come here to be a nice and loving boyfriend and this is what I get.” Pushing his hair back you smiled, “There’s that pretty face.” His face began to burn almost as much as yours.

“Stop that, I’ve brought things for you.” He pulled out 2 bottles of gatorade, some sweets, and a piece of tupperwear contain what looked like stew. “Is that-“

“Wayne’s special recipe.”

“Oh I love you, and I love Wayne.” He pulled out a spoon and a stuffed teddy. “Aw Ed’s they’re lovely,” you smiled, pulling the stuffed bear to your chest. “I knew he’d get all the love and not me.”

“That’s not true, I just want the stew first.”

“Fine, be careful. It’ll still be quite warm.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

After eating the stew and drinking half a bottle of gatorade, you were snuggled on Eddies chest. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“Anything for you Sweetheart.”

“How was school?”

“Boring, even worse without you.”

“Wait Eds it’s Friday, you had a campaign today. What are you doing here?” your eyes widened. Eddie had been planning this for week, excitedly rambling to you about it none stop.

“Sweetheart, it’s fine. We pushed it back a week.”

“You, Edward Munson, postponed D&D for me?”

“I’d do it a million times, plus Gareth threatened me.”

“Of course he did,” you laughed, coughing slightly. Eddie rubbed your back soothingly, kissing the top of your head. “You’ll get sick too.”

“I never get sick.”

“Lies, you just ignore the fact that you’re sick and get grouchy.”

“Do not.”

“Stop pouting.”

“How’d you know-“

“I know you.”

You felt his grin in your hair, “Sleep Sweetheart.”

“Will you stay?”

“For as long as I can.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You woke up a few hours later throat feeling scratchy. Sitting up and taking a sip of your drink, you panicked as your dad entered the room. Eddie was sound asleep on the bed.

“Calm down, I just came to bring you some meds, I know he’s here.”

“Dad we need to talk about him.”

“I’ve already spoke to him, when you were asleep.”

“You- What?” you didn’t know if it was your cold filled brain confusing you or not. “He’s a good boy. I’ve seen how he cares for you, how he loves you. Just tell him to use the front door next time - he’s going to break the pipes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay honey, we’ll take this and then get some rest.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You smiled to yourself, taking your medicine and then snuggling back into Eddies chest.

“You alright?” he asked, voice groggy from sleep. “Perfect.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

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tinysocks0 · 9 days

Note

hellooooo um so i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if you’d write some fluffy madness where reader tries their best to comfort rhea after she had to vacate the women’s championship title?

you can take the concept and do what you want with it but im just begging for rhea fluff bc theres an agonizingly low amount of rhea fics as it is 🥺🙏🏼

On Top Again

Angst, fluff, fluff ending, No use of Y/N, gender neutral reader. That’s pretty much it I think

(Sorry if it’s a little short!! But I tried my best, I hope you like it!! <3)

That week, Rhea was very to herself, which was unlike her and you had no clue why. You tried cheering her up with little surprises and affection, and while it put a smile on her face it never lasted long.

You figured she needed space; Rhea wasn’t the strongest communicator when it came to her feelings. You were aware of that. You knew if something was bothering her terribly, she’d come to you.

Now you knew what kept her spirts down that week when you watched Monday Night Raw, you stared at the screen with a sad, pitiful look. That championship was proof of her commitment, hard work, and her literal blood, sweat, and tears. It was her whole life encased in a shiny golden belt she wore with pride; and that night it was almost as if it was stripped from her over an injury. You could only imagine her pain in that moment.

When she got home the next day around noon, she seemed almost defeated. You knew she put up a strong front for work, but now she didn’t seem too sure of her abilities.

You slowly walked towards her while she was crouched, giving Barry and Luna some much needed affection. She wore a baggy band shirt paired with her signature sweatpants, suitcase still at the door.

“Hey, love. I seen what happened last night..do you feel like talking about it?..”

Rhea sighed, getting up and giving you a deep hug which you returned immediately. She finally spoke up after a few moments in your embrace.

“..I’m sorry I’ve been distant..and not talking to you as much as I should. I just got the news before Raw..I felt like I needed to process it on my own before going up on stage and announcing it in front of everyone. I knew you were worried about me, and I’m sorry..”

You looked up at Rhea, cupping her face in your hands before speaking gently.

“I know you process emotions differently Rhea, and that’s okay. I understand…and I’m sorry you lost your championship. It meant a lot to you.”

Rhea gives you a pity half-smile, looking to the side.

“It did..it still does. I worked my ass off for that championship only for it to get stripped away from me. I don’t even know what I’m going to have to do to get it back.”

You heard the frustration in her voice, quickly replying to try and ease her nerves.

“Hey, hey..baby, I know you’ll get it back. If anyone is worthy of that title it’s you. It took an injury to take your title away from you, not anyone else’s willpower. That sounds pretty badass if you ask me.”

Rhea cracked a small smile, looking at you with a glimpse of hope in her eyes as you continued speaking.

“I know that championship meant the world to you. I’m sorry.” You gave Rhea a sympathetic look, putting a strand of hair that was in her face behind her ear.

“It was my whole life, but you are too. You’re my number one motivator and I’m so glad that you believe in me.”

You smiled at Rhea, tears in your eyes from the swell of emotions you felt from what she just told you.

“It’s going to take a lot more than one little injury to stop thee Rhea Ripley. Even if I also advise you stay home, you most likely wouldn’t have listened.” Rhea chuckled a little bit, showing you a genuine smile for the first time in a while.

You gave Rhea a kiss on the cheek as she kept on giggling; she draped her arms around your waist in return.

“You’re going to be on top again, Rhea, I know you will. You always are.”

#rhea ripley #mami rhea #women of wwe #rhea ripley x reader #papi rhea #rhea ripley fluff #rhea x reader #wwe superstars #wweedit

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ddarker-dreams · 8 months

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Hellooooo I have been DYING to know this from you 👉👈. You know how there's a lot of tips for writing stuff? Well do you happen to have any tips for reading stuff? I want to read the books you recommend but I fear I'm just too dumb 😭 and won't understand what is going on let alone the themes and philosophies discussed. I feel like I would be insulting Dostoevsky by reading his work looool. We were never taught this stuff in schools ;O

I'm talking about critical thinking and analysis skills, media literacy, being able to picture and visualise sceneries; characters' voices/appearances etc., and just overall being able to comprehend one sentence that doesn't use the most basic active voice structure 😭 thank you if you choose to answer!!!!

SWEET ANON !!!! YOU ARE NOT DUMB !!!!

this is coming from a survivor of the american education system, so it might not be universal, but my experiences in middle/high school made me dislike reading books. no joke. i didn't see the point and thought reading the classics was a waste of time. i'm sure that's partially teenager arrogance, but from the conversations i've had with others, reading was rarely framed in a way that stoked intrigue. we're not given the tools to engage with the text so i'm rarely surprised when i see the worst takes imaginable on a piece of media i enjoy from a 14 year old.

i'm still learning myself when it comes to media literacy, it's an ongoing journey. when i read notes from underground for the first time last year i was literally so confused. i can normally read anywhere from 80k-100k words in one day if i'm motivated enough, but NFU, a novella at around 43k words, took me over a week.

i say all this to reassure you that you're not alone!

some advice that comes to mind when reading a dense work:

do some background research on the author. i know teachers hiss at wikipedia for some reason but reading a few paragraphs about the person's life, beliefs, politics, etc really helps put their writing into perspective.

look into the time period it was written. what were the pressing social issues at the time? who was in charge? what conflicts were ongoing/just ended? what was the predominant religion? books don't exist in a vacuum, a lot of the classics are filled with jabs at ideologies the author doesn't like (i'm looking at you, dante).

if the author's from a different country than you, getting a basic grasp on the culture helps a lot. with reading dostoevsky specifically, historical events like the emancipation of the serfs was an entirely new concept to my american brain.

not everything is going to make sense. sometimes the cultural/historical layers go so deep you'd need to have been alive at the time to immediately get it. fortunately, there are nerds with degrees in book who do extensive research and can give insight. i'll think i maybe understand a book okay, go to read a journal article on it, and go ??????? wat???? page 632 paragraph 3 references euclid's optics?? how was i supposed to know that.

finally, you're not going to like every book you read, even if it's well written. there's a difference between persevering and actively torturing yourself with words. if you dread picking it up again, there are other books to check out instead. there are some classics that i don't care for much (some of edgar allen poe's short stories, the fall by albert camus, no longer human by dazai osamu, to name a few).

ask yourself questions while reading. why did this character do that? is there a reoccurring motif throughout the work, and if so, why might the author be trying to highlight that? what perspective is the work from? is the protagonist lucid, are they an unreliable narrator? what themes are being explored here?

i hope some of this helps dsfhgkdjshgks there's a lot to be said on the subject but i didn't want this post to be miles long.

#answered #Anonymous

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lovearthur · 1 month

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Hellooooo!!!!!! Can I please have a scene and/ or Headcannons where it is set after the events of rdr2 in 1908, one year after Sadie Charles and John successfully defeated Micah. Sadies fem s/o is at home one day in her cozy ranch farm house. Sadie is standing in the shadows in the corner of the living room, quietly not to alert her s/o. Sadie has come back from a long bounty hunt trip and after a few weeks of being away she is finally home. she is planning to surprise her s/o. As fem reader has finished cooking the food and has cleaned the entire house, she is finishing up with washing and drying her hands. As she goes to walk over to the sofa, suddenly Sadie comes into view with a mischievous yet warm smile. Fem reader sees Sadie and yelps. She is stunned to see Sadie standing in front of her. There is nothing but silence for a few seconds before she gets emotional and hugs Sadie with a warm embrace. They kiss lovingly. Their poodle dog comes into view and happily barks around their feet. Sadie picks up the dog and all 3 of them embrace. Sadie is finally happy to be home and her s/o and their poodle are even happier to have her back. They sit down to enjoy a warm delicious meal prepared by fem reader and they enjoy each others company while eating contently. A little while later they freshen up and go into bed together to cuddle as they chat for a little bit. They fall asleep contently in each others arms, safe, warm happy and loved.

𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 (𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . lesbians . ending spoilers of rdr2 . epilogue events . arthur teasing sadie . sadie is a cutie . suggestive.

d/n is dog's name!!

its been a year. its been a since all of that... happened and u were happy about it but god, u hated the way it all ended. sadie too.

u missed all the good few people that came with the gang; tilly, mary-beth, charles, karen, trelawny, ms. grimshaw... but the person u deeply missed was arthur. the memories that u have of him were so bittersweet to think about now, ur favourite of him when u overheard him teasing her...

╔══♡══════ღ═══════════════════════════╗

"no- it ain't like that, arthur. she's jus'... she's just nice, i like her. i like her company."

"i like her company too but it ain't me who gets all red like that. 'nd from what i see, she likes ya, too. no fellar catches a lady's gaze fer that long."

"oh, shut up, will ya?" and then she caught u, staring at her. and that confirmed arthur's words as a smirk slowly works on ur face.

╚═══════════════════════════ღ══════♡══╝

arthur was brooding, burly and rough around the edge, yet he was kind to u and the rest regardless of what he thought about himself. since if it wasnt for him then who knows what would've happened to u and ur lovergirl nd the rest of u? although, u knew how close ur girlfriend was with him before he died. he was good and he did good, well... most of the time. to u, he was a good man.

sadie adler. she was ur lover and has been for a long while now. there was a stark confront between the two of u. sadie was feisty, she wasn't afraid to stand up for herself unlike u. because u were the real feminine type; bows, ruffles, pink, frills, lace, pearls. when u first joined the gang and started getting comfortable with the women there, she slowly warmed up to u. it started off with checking up on u, giving u coffee, being there for u when u needed her. there were even times where she got u a gift.

"hey [name], i got this little necklace fer ya, its real pretty 'nd it reminded me of ya."

with the convincing from mary-beth, after a while, u were so so sure that she was attracted to u.. always catch her stealing glances, even see her gazing at u when ur shirt gets soaked during ur chores or when u bend down to pick something up...

but now here u are, in 1908; in the kitchen of ur sweet ranch, cleaning and tidying up while the sunset casting a yellow-orange through the window. u were humming to urself, listening to ur dog snoring in another room as u continue to clean counter tops and the wooden table where u and ur lover wiuld sit and eat. ur mind fell to sadie once again, u adore- no, u love sadie with every fibre of ur being. shes out always out on bounty hunting so u always hoped she'd come back in one piece. feeling nostalgic, ur brain vividly plays the memory of how embarrassed and flustered she got after she confessed her feelings to u, which then has a giggle escape ur soft lips just thinking about it. u always miss her but u understood, u knew how long her trips could take and u respect that, leaving u and ur dog always patiently wait for her return... what u didn't know is that sadie was already home, she was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching u with a smirk on her face as she looked at u up and down as u clean. u were so pretty, beautiful, even. with those doe eyes and lashes of urs, she had a soft spot for u and u both knew it. with her being back? she was wanted to surprise u and with now being an outlaw, it gave her the talent to walk quietly like a mouse. u make ur way to ths couch, with d/n following on behind u and u felt like u were the most boredest girl in the world, just waiting on ur lover come home from her bounty hunting trip... u were always like this, u always missed her, but u understood what she did. u couldn't help it, u just.... u love her so, so much.

"ain't I jus' a lucky woman to have ya waitin' for me?"

u knew that voice from anywhere. that raspy southern drawl of hers was locked in ur brain. u loved her voice to bits, ur girlfriend was finally back home! u felt... oh, so many emotions.

u look up immediately, and a sqeal leaves ur pink lips, realising its her. her and that goddamn smirk of hers. u were speechless - like a deer in headlights! how did u not even realise she came in? did u not hear her? how could u- "well, ya gonna hug me or what, darlin'?" feeling urself become all emotional, u quickly made ur way over to her, ur arms wrapping around her neck as u cling onto her like she was the last person on earth. oh, u were so relieved that she was alright! u were so happy and even more head over heels for her! u were like a lovesick girl again. it didn't take long before u felt sadie's rough hands go under ur white blouse, feeling her hands rests on ur hips. "missed ya so much, sadie... ye were gone fer so long." u murmur softly into the crook of her neck, u felt her tense up slightly as ur soft breathe hit her skin. "i missed ya too, my sweet girl.." a sweet silence fell between u, her touch always gave u comfort that u deeply craved her. despite her hardened life, she was always sweet and gentle towards u, any chance she got, her hands were always all over u in more ways than one. out of overwhelming feelings, u then place ur lips against hers and how lovely that felt.. the butterflies in ur stomach were fluttering like crazy! without hesitation, she kissed u back, deepening the kiss as she wraps her arms around ur waist tightly, like she was making sure u wouldnt escape her grasp and u loved it. oh, u loved every moment when u felt how protective she could be, it was like a reminder. like one time, when u were both in a daloon in Blackwater, she had her arm wrapped around ur waist tightly as she seen some of the men's eyes oogling at u from afar. and yet, she felt lucky, knowing that none of have u. u were her girl, her woman. and only, her woman. and now, u felt like u were on cloud nine! she made u feel so so special and like u were the only girl in the whole state, no- the whole world, even. the peace was quickly ruined as u hear ur d/n barking as she makes their way towards u both. sadie picks her up before embracing u once again.

it wasn't too long before u were making one of sadie's favourite meals while she was sitting at the table, the smirk plastered on her face while she's keeping her gaze on ur figure. she loved u more than anything in the world, she felt quite the lucky women being by ur side. u placed her bowl in front her before sitting down in front of her with ur bowl of food. "looks good as always, angel." and a smile appears on ur face from her words. "jus' fer you, ya bounty hunter." u teased which earned a smug chuckle from her after she takes a bite of her food. "keep talkin like that 'nd I'll show ya why i am a bounty hunter..." she had u wrapped around her finger! u felt the blood rise to ur cheeks as u take a bite of ur food. this little back and forth continue for the whole dinner and u didn't mind one bit. she told u all about the bounty then u told her all about ur day. she was always a good listener.

it was now late at night, sadie was getting herself comfortable on the bed while u were in the bathroom, adjusting ur appearance. u were so glad that she was home now, after days and days of wanting her home, needing her home.. she's finally back. and u can have her all to urself. it made u all giddy and excited like a teenage girl again, just thinking about it! "u comin' to join me, honey?" and at the sound of her voice, u quickly made ur way over then crawled into bed beside her. didn't take too long before u felt her chest pressed against ur back, feeling her arms under ur chemise as they wrap around ur waist, her soft breathing hitting ur neck. "'m glad yer back home... I missed ya dearly, hon.." she gave ur waist a slight squeeze, making u feel butterflies in ur stomach once again. "ye have me all to yerself fer a while before i need to do it all again." she murmured against ur neck. u smiled at her words while u adjusted urself. "we should go see the marston's again, i miss them." sadie inched closer to u, hummed softly at ur words "mhm.. 'course, my angel." u know she was tired, she was always exhausted after a long weeks of her job so u couldn't blame her. as ur eyes close, u feel sadie slowly begin to kiss ur neck. her soft wet kisses trailing down to ur shoulders. "sadie, i-" u felt heat pool low in ur abdomen as u hear her chuckle, gosh that girl... "i know, i know, but i can't help myself when I'm around u, [name]..." and she continued "yer so pretty... 'm glad yer my girl, don't want anyone but you." a small giggles escapes ur lips before sadie backs off and re-adjusts herself against u. after a little while, u both fall into a deep slumber 𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sadie adler #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x fem!reader #sadie rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

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solarwonux · 7 months

Text

Business Proposal || knj (7/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst,

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 5.8k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: hello hello hellooooo, this one is more of a filler one to get everything started. Still, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. lmk your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tag list!

m.list || series m.list || wattpad

prev || next

10 years ago

The first time you ever met Kim Namjoon, the leaves were just beginning to change in color. The fall season was approaching. The greens of the summer were slowly fading into vibrant autumn hues. Replacing the obnoxious sticky heat, for humid and cooler winds. The leaves still hadn’t fallen, the foliage was at its peak and you were desperately trying to stay afloat.

Somehow, you had gotten roped into a math class. Well, you weren’t necessarily roped into it. You were forced into it. It was part of the prerequisite requirements and because you had barely passed all of your Algebra exams in high school, you couldn’t plead the advisory board to accept those credits. They would’ve just laughed in your face and sent you away with a list of professors who specialized in the devil made subject.

Now, you had hoped that college algebra was a bit easier, after three weeks of a summer intensive course you were proven wrong. You weren’t necessarily failing, but you weren’t passing either. Though, in a panic-induced state full of hope you had done the math - ironic, and came to the conclusion that if you didn’t pass the final exam, you wouldn’t be able to move onto part two of the class.

If you had done things differently, you would’ve taken the classes at the start of your degree, just as your academic advisor had suggested. You didn’t and now you are two semesters away from a beautiful bachelors degree in arts. Achieving an impressive double major in Writing and Rhetoric and Journalism with a minor in International Communications, along with a tasteful three point nine GPA.

You were almost there. You could savor it as you looked into master degree programs. The looming debt of your student loans was the least of your worries. At least for now. If you didn’t pass the stupid final exam, in one of the easiest math classes you could ever take in college. You would be growing a larger hole in your loan repayment agreement with the prestigious HYBE U.

At this point you were desperate. Almost to the point in which you considered cheating. A blaspehmous thought that you only ever had in high school during science labs. Those gizmos computer stimulations were a quizlet file away, and the sweet taste of victory was even closer.

Yet, quizlet wouldn’t work out in this scenario and finally you caved, putting away your pride for a little bit to admit that you needed help.

A math tutor was the best option for you. Lots of college kids were desperate for another quick buck along with their less than promising part time jobs, while they struggled with juggling school in the process. You only hoped that the ad you posted on the HYBE U facebook group would workout, even if it had been a week ago and still hadn’t gotten any engagement.

Maybe it was time to accept the truth, what’s one more extra semester. Sure, it interferes with your descriptive five year plan, but you could somehow modify it. Right?

Wrong? So very wrong.

You needed a tutor quick. Probably in the next hour or so, because you refused to step foot in another math class again. Your life revolved around your rhetorical readings, feminist discoverings in Ancient Greece. You loved research, writing papers on things you found interesting, and developing a new perspective to already made discoveries. It was a rush. Not necessarily the writing part - it was tedious and sometimes you wondered why you even decided to pursue writing in the first place; but the sense of achievement and the ego boost you got when you typed the final sentence and the final period was euphoric. To then scroll through twenty plus pages of times new roman double spaced text that came from your brain, was a thrill. And one you would never achieve when it came to math.

Ugh!

“You good there?” You knew that voice. It was all too familiar. You had spent countless hours sitting in a lecture hall with him telling you jokes and writing you notes retelling you the rumors he heard about your math professor.

So, maybe, your total inability to see patterns when it came to numbers wasn’t completely your fault. But the fault of the raven haired, toothy smile of the muscle bunny that you had befriended in both your science lab and college algebra courses.

You lift your head up to see Jungkook with his head cocked to the side. His right eye was a bit swollen due to the sty he had developed from scratching his eye too much with his dirty germy hands. So, he had to opt to wear his glasses, his right eye lens was a bit thicker than the left, making his eyes look a bit disproportionate. If you weren’t aware of how successful he was at getting around with both women and men you would’ve thought otherwise, due to his geeky look and fascination with RPG games.

You groan, messing your hair with your silver ring cladded fingers. “No offense but math is the worst subject in this entire world. Why do we need it? I’m not going to use it to calculate the circumference of the can of beans I’m going to buy at the grocery store. Nor will I use the pythagorean theorem to measure the circumference of my pizza.” You rant, glancing at the time and closing your laptop.

Your self study session was unsuccessful because all you did was refresh the facebook page hoping someone would take your twenty dollars an hour offer.

Yes, you were incredibly desperate, even considering upping the price to appeal to more money hungry college students.

“The fact that you’re using geometry terminology regarding a simple college algebra class tells me everything I need to know.” He grins, partially leaning his body to the side, resting his weight on the umbrella handle he was carrying.

Fuck, you forgot it was going to rain today.

Your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Anyway, I’m guessing the tutor search isn’t working?”

“Bingo,” you snap your fingers at him before proceeding to gather the rest of your stuff.

This was the part you dreaded the most. The agonizing walk to your math lecture. Honestly, if it weren’t for Jungkook consistently meeting up with you in the cafe that connected to the hallway in the math building to walk to class together. You would’ve probably never turned up after the first class. Hence why you’re not in a sinking boat. Just a partially sinking boat.

Jungkook sighs, scratching the back of his head, watching you scoot out of the booth. He wishes he could offer you more help other than moral support and a few ‘You can do it,’ air punches. But between his computer science classes, and increasing doubt regarding his degree plaguing his mind, he’s found himself with zero free time.

That’s when he remembers something. A small passing comment made on his way to bathroom last night as he was getting ready for bed. Maybe he does have a way to help you. His face lights up, alerting you.

“What, why do you look like you’ve just seen a cheesecake on sale?” You adjust the strap of your leather bag, against your shoulder and make your way to his side, eyeing his umbrella.

Would it be weird to ask him to walk you home after class?

Shaking your head at the thought, a problem for later, you decide.

You shift your gaze to meet his. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and you’ve never been so desperate at knowing what goes on in that questionable head of his. He also never takes this long to say something. Once a thought pops into that head of his head, it's out in seconds because he’s afraid he might lose it.

You can thank his ADHD for that one.

“I think I might know someone who’s free on Tuesday and Thursday evenings that can probably help you out.” He squints, nodding his head, and you feel your mood turn right side up.

You knew befriending Jungkook would end up benefiting you one day. Though, you do feel a little bit irritated, couldn’t he have told you this wonderful news, um, I don’t know a week ago as you two sat in this exact same booth, while he watched you make the stupid facebook post.

You shove him a little, his umbrella buckling under his weight and he stumbles a bit, shock written all over his face. “What was that for?” He complains, taking a hold of his right arm in mock hurt.

“You’ve seen me suffer and you’re now just telling me that you magically happen to know someone who can tutor me this entire time.” You huff, shoving past him, glancing at your phone screen for the time. Class was in five minutes, unfortunately.

“That’s not necessarily true.” He speaks from behind you, and you throw him a glare making him buckle under the pressure. The dramatics. He’s only been your friend for almost four weeks, but he’s already gotten used to you and he knows he’s hit a vein, and that you’re so stubborn any explanation wouldn’t work. It is always worth a try.

“Okay maybe that’s true, but they’re pretty busy and I just assumed he would have a full schedule and no time to tutor you.” He explains, keeping up with your steps. The two of you arrive in front of the lecture hall with a minute to spare, you take it upon yourself to open the door, revealing the room full of stressed induced faces, quietly whispering to each other.

You shake your head at Jungkook’s explanation, making your way to your usual seats. In the middle but on the outside for a quick escape if ever needed. “How do you even know this person? I thought you only had two friends.” You place your bag gently onto your desk and sit down.

“Actually, including you, I have three friends.”

“My friends don’t count either.”

Jungkook rolls your eyes and slumps down next to you, spreading his legs wide, taking up all his leg room and part of yours. God, he was such a guy.

“Do you want my help or not?” He says in feigned annoyance.

You unzip your bag, fishing out your pencil and notebook, while he takes out his laptop. You could never understand how he was able to take math notes on a computer, but he was the self proclaimed computer genius. Well, his straight A’s in all of those freakishly hard classes were also proof, so, there must be a method to his madness.

You sigh, setting your bag down in the empty seat next to you. “Fine, yes, please, my perfect Jungkook. I’m desperate, put me out of my misery.” You plead, hands clenched in front of you as the hushing of the students dies down, and the greeting of your Spanish accent written professor echoes throughout the class. It’s your cue to shut up and hopefully pay attention.

“First, don’t ever say things like that.” Jungkook begins, leaning in closer to whisper, “it’s weird.” He says in disgust–the audacity. “Second, do you have plans after class?” He finishes leaning away and opening up a new blank document on his laptop.

You shake your head at his question and click down on your mechanical pencil. You were determined to at least understand one thing in today’s lesson. Jungkook doesn’t answer, your professors voice booming throughout as he begins the lesson of the day, and you’re distracted in seconds by the light tap on your shoulder.

You look over at your friend, his laptop screen turned in your direction so you can read the tiny invitation written in cosmic sans font. He’s a child.

Come with me to Serendipity after class and thank me later :p

You look up at him rolling your eyes at the ending emoji. A child indeed. But you nod in agreement, you don’t know what or who is at Serendipity. Except for a solution. At least that is what you hope for because there’s a reason why you haven’t stepped foot in there since childhood, despite Jungkook raving about it time and time again. The overpriced vanilla lattes is the main reason why.

Yet, desperate times come along with desperate measures. And if you need to drop a couple more on your favorite caffeinated drink in order to pass math. Then so be it.

Serendipity stood in between two worlds. It separated the lively college town from the perfect four person familial neighborhood. On weekday afternoons it was mostly frequented by college students who needed a change in scenery or remote workers with their bangs still in rollers and their eyes puffy from sleep. On Friday nights it was home to young adults grabbing dessert after a fulfilling dinner or a late caffeinated drink for a long night out. Tired office workers, likely forced to attend a company dinner, usually took up the long tables in the back wall of the first floor.

Sunday’s were a favorite at Serendipity, young families would come from different parts of town to enjoy a late brunch. And morning runners would waltz in for a late caffeine kick before the strenuous work out around the lake that offered the cafe it’s most famous view.

Dionysus Lake.

Just as its name implies. The lake was a place for celebration, festivities, and madness. It’s where everything would happen for the first time. Your first fall, your first scrape. The graduation ground from a four wheeled bike to a two one. The first time you saw your crush outside of school. The first time you held hands with someone and the downfall of your first friendship with your childhood best friend—Sabrina. I was the breeding ground of impulsive decisions like getting drunk on the steps that led to the bank. With beer and soju you had gotten because you paid a broke college student scrambling in between odd jobs to buy them for you. The breeding ground of many triple dog dares and the place in which you decided what your future would be like.

It was a right of passage from childhood to teenagehood and finally adulthood.

It’s where couples that beat the test of time go to enjoy their last moments of humanity. Both the cafe and the lake are full of nostalgia, and so famous that it now became a must see spot from people all over the city. With inflation and the influx of people both the cafe and the lake were places you and your family had started to frequent less, until eventually it was out of your minds completely and the longing for just a fleeting moment to visit before the chaos was gone.

That is until today.

Everything had changed so much. The rustic decor was now replaced with a mixture of antiques and plants hanging from every possible surface. The windows were now floor to ceiling and they opened up to a very cooling outside patio, where you could enjoy the view of the famous lake. They had even expanded to a second floor, and added a rooftop with fiery lights and wooden tables. It basically looked nothing like what you had grown up with and more like a pinterest board of garden core had thrown up on it.

It also had more menu options, and gone was your favorite blueberry and mint tea you and your mom would enjoy whenever your anxiety spiked to levels in which you could not control. Everything had been replaced with something more expensive and trendy. A complaint that had been surrounding the cafe for years by everyone who grew up inside the walls. Though you hadn’t really believed it until now because you were finally working up the courage to see it for yourself. And the one thing you can only really think about—apart from the overpriced vanilla latte you had just paid for—was how could a place so familiar feel so unfamiliar at the same time.

“Hobi always gives me a discount when I come.” Jungkook throws into the wind while he plays with the white buzzer in his hand.

Unlike you, Jungkook and his family—from what you have gathered—were regulars. As soon as he arrived every worker greeted him with a warm smile and a simple hand wave. Some had added a mention of seeing his mom earlier. And if you hadn’t been convinced, the barista with the high nose bridge, sporting the floral shirt, a bright yellow beanie and khaki pants had already inputted his order before Jungkook could mutter the words “iced americano with a splash of vanilla syrup please.”

“I’m sorry who?” You move your head closer, eyeing the way his hands wrapped around the buzzer. Desperately hoping for it to ring because although it was almost three and you probably shouldn’t really be drinking any form of caffeine at this time. Your body desperately needs something to keep you alert. Especially now that you were meeting your classmate's brother for the first time.

A brother who could possibly save you from failing your college algebra class. He had told you a little about him. Apparently, he wasn’t really his brother, but his mother remarried his father when Jungkook was young, so to make matters easier for everyone involved. He would just introduce him as his older brother. He called him Joon and he was currently working on his masters in philosophy. A real pretentious nerd if someone were to ask you. They lived together in an apartment just outside of the college town, and according to Jungkook, who you have noticed likes to input his opinion where it really doesn’t matter. He was still a virgin, because he lived and breathed philosophy like one of those weird philosophers from ancient times. The only thing he needed was a laurel crown and a toga.

His words not yours.

Basically he didn’t really do a very good job at painting a good image of his older brother. And you were already having some negative opinions regarding him because you have dealt with a handful of pretentious boys in many of your classes that you really didn’t feel like adding another one to the mix. But again, you’ll push your preconceived notions aside. This was for your four point zero GPA and your five year plan. One more insult to your psyche and intelligence wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

“The one that rang us up. He gave you one too, vanilla lattes are usually seven and you only paid six.” He points out before jumping at the sound of the buzzer going off. “I’ll get it.” He smiles standing up faster than you can protest, and walking off to the pick up counter.

It’s strange that the two of you became friends or clicked so well. And you like to think that it was mainly because you shared a few classes more than anything else. He was a little energizer bunny, a right arm sprinkled with a few tattoos and a scar right above his eyebrow where a piercing had been. You were not far from the opposite, but you did have a social battery that would often run out before the end of the day. You valued the quiet and apart from the many earrings decorating your ears and the hot pink peekaboo dye job you had your mom do. You were deathly scared of needles and didn’t look nearly as rebellious as Jungkook did, even with his stupid nerdy glasses.

“Hobi gave us cookies, on the house.” Jungkook says as he sets down the tray in front of you. “I think he might want your number.” He adds with a nonchalant tone before taking up his previous seat and getting a head start at setting the table.

You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes a plate with a matcha cookie your way. “You’re talking nonsense. I heard you ask for a chocolate chip cookie before you paid.” You roll your eyes, grabbing your tall glass of coffee.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pushing the brown tray to the side. “I ordered a cookie but I didn’t order two.” He points to your cookie. “Plus he couldn’t take his eyes off you while you ordered.” He finishes and takes a long sip of his drink. He finishes with a refreshed ah and smacks his lips together in satisfaction.

The drama.

That’s probably another thing the two of you did have in common. You’re both dramatic in your own ways. Something the two of you discovered about each other two weeks into knowing one another. It was a long story that involved a stubbed toe and a papercut. One that wasn’t worth reminiscing about now because it added nothing to both of your lives.

“I doubt that Kook, he’s just doing his job and he knows you.” You raise a finger at him and you take a long awaited sip of your coffee.

Jungkook crosses his arms in front of you. “Okay then why did he ask me if you were single.” He adds in a matter of fact way. Cocking an eyebrow to prove his point.

You narrow your eyes at him and kick him under the table. He recoils in pain, whispering explicits to not draw any more attention to the two of you. “You’re lying and I know you’re lying because I saw you order another cookie when you went to pick up our drinks.” You say leaning in closer so he can hear your whispering.

Here’s the thing. Jungkook has been trying to set you up with every guy he deems is cute. You on the other hand are not interested, mostly because you’re still young with your whole life ahead of you. And right now the only thing that matters is your degree.

What’s the rush?

He pouts, uncomfortably cradling his shin. “Fine, he didn’t give you a cookie on the house, but he did say you were cute. And he’s a nice guy. My brother is friends with him and he’s really funny.”

You sigh, breaking a piece from your cookie. “I'm happy to hear that but you know that’s not a priority of mine now.”

Jungkook rests his elbows onto the table and leans forward. “Have you ever heard of a work- life balance?” Because all you do is work and you should be out and partying. Your twenties are supposed to be full of fun.”

“I do have fun, Jungkook.” You point out, putting the piece of cookie into your mouth before crossing your arms in annoyance. If you had a coin for every time someone in your life tried having this exact same conversation with you, then you’d probably be able to afford more of these over priced lattes.

Jungkook sits back with his arms crossed, tonguing the inside of his cheek in suspicion. Sure, he’s only known you for a short amount of time, but every time he sees you around campus or meets up with you. You have your head buried in either a book or your fingers are flying across your laptop keyboard. He’s positive you don’t know how to have fun.

“Fine name one instance in which you are not doing school work.” He challenges

“My friends and I have board game nights every Wednesday and Sunday night.”

Jungkook sits up a bit straighter, a look of shook written all over his face. “Wait, you actually have friends.” He says before lifting a hand to cover his mouth in disbelief.

Before he can stop you, you kick his shin one more time and this time harder than the first time. This is exactly why you are surprised you’ve chosen to be friends with him. Sometimes he could get under your skin by just existing.

“You know I have friends, Jungkook. You’ve hung out with them.”

He doesn’t answer, instead he nods his head while he once again cradles his shin in pain. Maybe he crossed the line this time. He met Taehyung and Jimin more than once. And from what he was able to gather in the few times he’s hung out with the three of you. Is that Jimin might have a huge crush on you and Taehyung’s jokes aren’t nearly as funny as you make them out to be. Still, he thinks they’re cool.

“Sorry I’m late, I missed my bus.” An unfamiliar voice speaks up and it makes the man in front of you sit up so straight you’re positive he’s going to break his back.

You raise a brow in confusion before turning your head to look towards the person who has the energizer bunny fix his posture and shut his mouth.

The first thing you see is the flowy khaki pants, then his simple t-shirt topped with a blue and white checkered flannel. And finally your eyes land on his face, and the black framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His hair hides under a navy beanie and your mouth almost falls open in disbelief.

Holy fuck, wait a second. This is the man Jungkook was describing. The nerd of a brother who could possibly still be a virgin and has his nose stuck in philosophy textbooks? Out goes your preconceived notions of the man in front of you and now you’re downright confused because this man was hot and reeked of chillaxed energy. He probably owns a few plants, and bike rides on the weekend and visits a few buddhist temples for the experience.

Nobody says anything as the man—which you perceive is now Joon—slides into the spot next to Jungkook’s. He hasn’t really looked in your direction, except for the short glance he sent your way when he first appeared.

Jungkook scoffs in annoyance as he scoots over making it a huge show like it’s inconvenient for him to move over. “This is Joon.”

“Namjoon.” The older one corrects before he extends his hand for you to shake. You hesitate for a second before shaking it and telling him your name.

He nods, retrieving his hand and sets it down on his lap. There’s a brief silence as he looks in between you and Jungkook probably trying to make sense of the situation himself because if you were being honest you’re still stunned yourself. Though you know Jungkook and his brother aren’t blood related you can’t help but feel like good genes simply run in the family somehow.

Namjoon shrugs once he’s silently done making his assumptions and sets his arms on the table, clasping his hands together. In an instant his face is replaced from a pleasing and welcoming one to one that screams he’s honestly here for business and not to fuck around.

“Are you the one that Jungkook tells me needs help?” He questions, earning a jab from the younger one. He doesn’t react and instead keeps going. “Have to ask because he’s been trying to set me up on blind dates thanks to our mom, so if this is what this is then I’m sorry but I’m not interested.” He nods before leaning back. Joon, or Namjoon doesn’t let you respond before he stands up and walks towards the order counter. There you see him greet the same barista who you now know is Hobi thanks to Jungkook.

You don’t linger on his figure before you turn to face Jungkook. Who looks mortified beyond belief and you can’t help but laugh because things are simply just making sense. All of Jungkook’s backhanded praises involving his brother made so much more sense. He did mention he was an asshole but you just assumed that was a simple sibling thing. No, he was most definitely right. And he fit more into the description you had once assumed before even meeting him, minus the typical nerd look you had conjured up with the brief descriptions Jungkook had provided. He was hot, and could probably crack your heart open into two, but he was exactly like those pretentious classmates you’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of encountering all throughout your degree. But for some reason you aren’t as bothered by it, because in a way it was hilarious.

Jungkook whines, “He can’t even try to be nice for a little bit.”

You throw your head back laughing even harder, while Jungkook continues to grumble underneath his breath in annoyance. You laugh until your stomach begins to hurt and until someone clears their throat making your giggles die down slowly.

“Why is Hobi giving out free cookies?” He points out before setting his tray down and taking up the seat next to his brother again. To which Jungkook silently gestures to the cookies and you as if to prove his earlier point. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his brother's actions before turning to face you.

“He also told me to give you his number but I told him that I didn’t know you and that if he wanted your number he should just ask you himself.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his dark liquid and making the same satisfied noise Jungkook had made earlier.

Ah, maybe dramatics also run in the family.

You stir the liquid of your latte with your straw. “Um thanks I guess.” You take a sip of your drink as he nods.

The atmosphere is so awkward that you want the entire cafe to fall through a hole in the ground. The three of you are silent before Jungkook’s phone lights up and starts buzzing. He quickly grabs it and silences it before standing up. “Sorry, I have to go. I forgot I had this thing to do.” He says inconspicuously before grabbing his book bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

You scramble eyes going wide as he adjusts the straps and straightens his black long sleeve. “Wait where are you going? I thought we had plans after this.”

Jungkook bites his lip, silencing his buzzing phone again when it goes off a second time. “Sorry Bun, I have to really go, it's important. I’ll see you at home Joon.” He salutes before basically running out of the cafe.

“Typical.” Namjoon catches your attention and rolls his eyes. “I knew he had something planned when he asked me to meet him here last minute. I’m really sorry about him but I’m really not interested in dating right now.” He says before grabbing hold of his bag and going to stand up.

Your body is filled with panic as you watch him. You do have a few choice words for the person that just ditched you with his brother. But this could be your last resort and you weren’t going to let him walk away. “Wait.” You extend your arm in his direction. He stops slipping on his bag and raises a brow at you in curiosity.

“I actually do need help. I’m close to failing my college algebra course…well I will fail it if I don’t pass the final exam.” You begin to explain, finally grabbing his full attention as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. “Jungkook mentioned you could probably help out.” You bring down your hand, circling both of them around your watered down latte. “That’s why I’m here. I promise this isn’t a blind date or anything.”

Namjoon nods, looking at the entrance before sitting down again, sighing, his shoulders relaxing instantly. And you’re once again met with the same nonchalant demeanor he had approached you and Jungkook. Once again things started to make sense, why he had made the switch so quickly. It was something he was probably so used to by now, but now as he adjusts himself in the seat in front of you. You can see that maybe he could not really be that bad.

“In that case I can stay.” He grins, pushing his iced coffee to the side. “I should warn you I’m not the best when it comes to math but college algebra is easy so I can help you out.”

You let out a big sigh of relief and nod your head. “Thank you so much you don’t understand how much you’re already helping me out by agreeing.”

Namjoon chuckles lightly before reaching into his side bag and taking out a plain black notebook with a pen. “In that case we should figure out our schedules.” He opens the notebook to a blank page and uncaps the pen. “Does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work for you?” He tilts his head in question.

You nod rapidly. “That’s perfect for me.”

He hums and writes down your name with the agreed days and times next to it. He closes it quickly and puts it in his bag. “Great, I'll see you next Tuesday.”

That’s it? It was that easy? Then why the heck did it take such a long time for someone to respond to your Facebook post. Especially when you had increased the payment.

Payment. Oh you had forgotten about it, and from

What it seems like so did Namjoon because he was already getting ready to go again.

“Wait.”

He stops, eyeing you in confusion but you decide to continue. “How much do you charge?”

Namjoon opens his mouth and closes it quickly. He puts a pensive hand on his chin before snapping his fingers in front of him. “I think you’re the one Jungkook mentioned about studying writing.”

“Writing and Rhetoric.” You correct before he can continue going. He nods in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, that’s what he said. I’m sure he mentioned what I was studying and if I’m being honest I hate revising my own writing. So, instead of paying me in money you can just revise my work in exchange for tutoring lessons.” He offers with a shrug.

You would be a fool to not take up this magnificent offer, so quickly you agree, extending your hand for him to shake. He takes it and for a second you swear you feel your heart drop down to your belly from just his touch. But you brush it off quickly when he retrieves his hand. It’s probably just the caffeine anyway.

“Great, it’s a pleasure doing business with you.” He smiles, and this time it is wide enough in which you can see his cute little dimples. “See you on Tuesday.”

Before you can respond with the same statement he’s already rushing out of the cafe. Leaving you alone in the booth, with three unfinished iced coffees and cookies.

You can’t really make out anything, just that this was probably the longest day of your life. And that unbeknownst to you, you can slightly feel the light crack in the corner of your heart. One that you will later on learn was the moment Namjoon had started to infiltrate it.

hope you liked it!

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cheolhub · 9 months

Text

UR INVITED 2 CHEOLHUB'S 1ST BDAY BASH!

ABOUT THE EVENT ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

HELLOOOOO! ok first of all, no one comment on my header (unless ur complimenting it 😊), i dropped my art minor after 3 months bc i lack artistic skill and i’ve made it very clear here. NEXT, it’s not MY birthday but cheolhub will officially be a YEAR old on the 26th of august & i wanted to celebrate with a lil sleepover event :> i've had so many ups and downs while running this blog and have almost abandoned it more times than i can count, so i just want to say CHEERS to cheolhub (aka sar aka me) for making it this far <3 i am eternally grateful for every kind message, every piece of feedback, and everyone who has been supporting me and my silly lil blog. i love u guys sm and would’ve been long gone without you T^T <3 i hope you'll join the celebration!! -3- and if this flops, you’ll never hear from me again /j /j /j

i knowww it’s early, but i start uni classes again next week (my last semester, yay 😻) and i wanna have time to do an event T-T

SLEEPOVER DATES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

this event runs for about two weeks! from sunday, august 13th to sunday, august 27th. any asks sent after august 27th will be deleted!

please note that i’ll still be working on asks (if i have any left) even after the event is closed.

EVENTS ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

！★﹕ᶻ﹐LET'S EAT﹒

☆︎ who's hungry? 👹🍽 request a short (less than 1k) drabble and you shall receive. i will be writing the first 5-10 requests due to my busy uni schedule :3 — choose a prompt (or two) from this prompt list + a member from seventeen, txt or the boyz! [closed] (ik the list isnt numbered, so just copy + paste ur preferred prompt(s) ><)

★︎ mtl for seventeen and txt! [open]

☆︎ hard hours for any group i write for! [refer to my guidelines to see who i write for] [open]

！★﹕ᶻ﹐ TIME 4 SELF CARE﹒[open]

★︎ let's do the things that make us happy! what makes us happier than being delusional and horny? you guessed it! being shipped with a hottie 😻 — this is the SHIP GAME + i’ll give you a silly little trope to kickstart ur epic romance

☆︎ OR opt for a personalized moodboards or playlists based off the vibes you give off! (mutuals can get both a moodboard and playlist if they’d like bc i would diy for all of u -3- just say u want both so i know<3333)

note: anonymous senders, please send me a few bits of info like your mbti, ult group and/or bias (does not have to be a group i stan!), star sign (big three if you know it), favorite color, etc. basically anything you want to share + one of the options above. mutuals can ask for any of the above, but providing info is totally optional!!

！★﹕ᶻ﹐WANNA PLAY A GAME?﹒[open]

☆︎ q&a!

ask me anything! favorite movie, how i got into writing, what i do when i’m not writing, why i only ult leaders etc. but please nothing too personal!

★︎ my opinions on literally ANYTHING!

☆︎ ask me for fic recs or give me fic recs!

★︎ fuck, marry, kiss (not kill bc i do not condone violence… not on here at least /lh)

☆︎ would you rather

note: you can send as many of these as you’d like :p i like answering them <3

RULES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

everything for this event will be tagged under #[ birthday bash ! ] you can block the tag to avoid seeing the posts!

please make sure to get your ask in within the time frame (aug 13th-27th)

minors, please please please do not interact!

be respectful and patient! — the drabbles, mtls & hard hours may take longer for me to get through, but i’ll try my absolute hardest to get them done in a timely manner <3

when sending an ask, be sure to mention the event so i can differentiate between those and my regular asks :)

have fun! ⭐️⭐️

#[ birthday bash ! ]#vernon and the cat r literally twins #send an ask 🤬 (non-threatening)

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daydreamingyuta · 10 months

Note

Hellooooo! ☺️

Could I request for a bf! jaehyun x gf! reader where his gf wanted to surprise him when he’s back from a work trip but she gets surprised seeing him come with another girl co-worker and she misunderstands the whole situation? I know you only do fluff so fluffy ending hehe 🫶🏼

Surprising Jaehyun after a Work Trip

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Hi!! Thank you for this request! I apologize that this took me a couple of days to write, I was finishing up my summer classes but I hope you like it! <3

Your body naturally woke up about an hour before your alarm went off. Usually you would go back to sleep, but today your boyfriend, Jaehyun, was coming back from a work trip and your excitement wouldn’t allow you to sleep any longer. It’s not uncommon for Jaehyun to go on business trips, but this one was especially long and you couldn’t wait to see him again.

What typically happened when he got back from his work trips, was that his driver would pick him up at the airport and take him straight to your place. He always liked to see you first and spend the rest of the day with you to relax. But this time you thought that it would be nice to have his driver take you to the airport so that you could be in the car when he gets picked up.

You had done this once before and he even asked you to do it again but waking up at four in the morning proved be to quite difficult when you have a bad habit of hitting snooze at least five times. Luckily his plane was arriving more around mid-day this time and you woke up early so you had plenty of time to get ready and leave for the airport.

You had gotten dressed and made sure to wear a perfume that you knew he loved. His driver arrived at your place a full two hours before Jaehyun’s plane lands because it takes a while to get to the airport. Throughout the car ride Jaehyun was texting you updates every now and then about his whereabouts. He had the habit of giving you updates throughout his day and you always appreciated them because it feels like you are spending the day with him even when you can’t.

⸻

It took a little while but you finally arrived at the airport. His driver pulled up right in front of the doors so that Jaehyun would have no trouble finding the car. You decided to get out the car as well so that he can see you right away.

When you finally catch a glimpse of him, you can feel yourself getting a little giddy. It had been a long week without him and all you wanted to do was hear his sweet voice in person and melt into his embrace. But your excitement was very soon replaced by a drop in your stomach when you saw that one of his coworkers was with him.

It’s not the fact that he is with her exactly, it’s the fact that she has her arm looped in his and they are laughing about something. You feel jealousy bubbling up inside of you at the sight, but before you can do anything, he makes eye contact with you.

Jaehyun immediately drops her arm and comes rushing to you and wraps you a hug. “Y/n, I’ve missed you so much you have no idea.” He says, his voice slightly muffled from speaking into your hair. The warmth from being in his arms doesn’t make you forget about his co-worker though. You break away from the hug and stand there with your arms crossed. You didn’t want to make a scene but you also couldn’t deny your emotions.

Jaehyun looked at you, confused for a second, but then proceeded to turn around and wave goodbye to his co-worker. You didn’t want to hold up all of the cars waiting at the airport and you didn’t want to have this kind of conversation right now so you helped Jaehyun put his bags in the trunk and got into the car.

The ride back home was much faster as there was much less traffic. Jaehyun had gotten a call from his boss to give a debriefing of what happened on his trip so you didn’t get much time to talk to him. He did hold you hand the entire time though which melted your heart slightly but you still weren’t feeling one hundred percent happy.

He had gotten off the phone right after you two entered your place and he immediately went to you. “You came to surprise me at the airport baby!” He says as he wraps you in his arms and kisses you. “Sorry my boss called me, he couldn’t make it so he had a bunch of questions I needed to answer.”

He can tell by your expression that something had made you upset. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? You were practically making out with another woman right in front of me.”

You watched as his face went from confusion to realization to laughter.

“You’re laughing at me?”

“No, I’m sorry I’m not laughing at you, you’re just a tad bit dramatic baby.”

“She was all over you.”

“Ok, your right she was very close to me but in my defense she put her arm there and I really didn’t think anything of it. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, and I’m sorry that I did that but really it was nothing. I promise you she is happily married with kids, she wants nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with her.”

“Really?” You say with a little bit of attitude because your still not totally over it.

“How could I? Look at who I have right here in front of me. You are the only girl for me. There is nobody else. You’re my girl.” He says with his hands cupping your face. He stays like that for a moment while he kisses the tip of your nose and then your forehead and then your lips.

You knew he was telling the truth. You knew he loved you and only you. With him being gone so often it’s easy to forget that. But whenever he’s with you it’s an impossible truth to deny, Jaehyun is so completely head over heels in love with you.

“It won’t happen again.” He says right before he places a million little kisses all over your face. “I love you.”

#jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #fluff #imagine

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Note

Hellooooo you can totally ignore this!!! But having Al brain rot and imagining getting it on with him somewhere semi-private on one of his movie sets when Bettye comes across you guys mid... ahem

Bettye would not even bat an eye 🤣

18+ content below the cut.

There was something truly magical about France.

The sights. The food. The wine.

The fact that you and Al hadn’t been able to keep your hands off each other—even more than usual.

His latest project was currently filming on location in the South of France, and he had managed to secure a spot for you so that you could travel with him.

“Can’t go a whole month without you, baby doll,” he’d told you when he’d surprised you with your ticket.

While you were thoroughly enjoying the breathtaking scenery of the Mediterranean, you had to admit that you were even more enthralled by the opportunity to watch your boyfriend at work.

He was so focused. So dominant. So in control.

It was incredibly sexy.

And you never failed to let him know it.

Though he was often extremely busy during the day, putting out one fire after another, he always managed to make time for little secret rendezvous on set, away from the prying eyes of everyone else on the production team.

Today, the two of you had managed to sneak away to a small, deserted stable on the grounds of the villa where filming had been taking place all week.

“Oh, Al,” you whimpered, biting down sharply on your lower lip as he thrust into you, his hips rolling in a way that had you clinging to him in desperation. Your heels had long since fallen into the dust, and your pretty yellow sundress was bunched up around your waist, your ankles locked behind your lover’s back as he ground into you, the plush head of his cock kissing that spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

“Sh, baby doll,” Al groaned, his fingertips pressing into your spine as he continued to rut inside you, his mouth devouring yours in a hungry kiss that swallowed up your desperate moans. He could feel your thighs trembling and knew that you were close.

Burying your fingers in his curls, you tugged harshly to indicate that you were about to fall over the edge, your breathing ragged as the two of you finally broke apart. Al was panting as he pressed hot kisses to your collarbone, nipping at your skin and pulling you even more tightly against him.

“Come on, baby doll. You’re so close, I can feel it,” he grunted, one hand sliding down to your thigh and squeezing as he felt you clenching around him.

“Al!” you cried out, not even caring how loud you were now. “Fuck, Al! Al!”

“Oh, shit. I should have known.”

Your eyes flew open and you gasped in horror at the sound of Bettye’s amused voice, scrambling to tug your dress down and burying your face in Al’s neck.

Al seemed only slightly less embarrassed, huffing in frustration as he glanced across the stable at his friend, who was representing several actors in the film.

“Bettye, I’ll be right there, alright?” he called out, cradling the back of your head comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, I’m covering my eyes,” she called back, in that blunt way that was just so classic Bettye. “You’re lucky it was me who found you and not one of the production assistants! Those kids would have pissed themselves,” she laughed. “I figured I’d find you like this when I couldn’t find either of you on set.”

“Um, Bettye, would you mind?” you mumbled sheepishly, utterly mortified.

“Oh yeah! Sure thing! How long should I tell them you’ll be? Five minutes? Ten minutes?” Bettye asked, her voice sounding slightly farther away.

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Al ground out through gritted teeth.

“Oh, shit. Alright. Carry on then,” she said, her footsteps fading as she hurried out of the stable.

“Oh my God,” you keened in humiliation, looking up into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“It’s alright, baby doll,” he assured you, kissing your forehead. “It’s Bettye. She knows everybody’s shit and she doesn’t care. You know that.”

“I know, but—”

“Our secret is safe with her, trust me,” he promised, stroking your cheek as he slowly started to move once more. At the sound of your soft moan, he grinned. “There you go. Gotta hurry now, baby. We’ve only got five minutes.”

#miles teller #al ruddy #the offer #al ruddy x reader #x reader #x female reader #al x baby doll

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whoreforhorror · 1 year

Note

Hellooooo! I’m back again 😗

Can I do a request where the s/o has a hard time sleeping so they kinda just walk around the house or sit somewhere else that isn’t the bedroom until they feel tired. They try not to wake the slashers (hence the being in another room) but the slashers obviously wake up and comfort the reader and eventually get them to sleep.

As always, Bo, Vince, and Brahms 🫡

Thank you so much, you’re amazing in every way.

Hello again, Sketchy! Glad to hear from you again! I know I said this with the first request you sent me but this one is also SO ME! Actually, I write everything in this sort of mode when its 12pm-4am and I can’t sleep. I had an absolute blast writing this! I think you’ll really like this one and it might just be my favorite that I’ve written for you!

Bo, Vincent, and Brahms with an S/O who wanders/sits around when they can’t sleep

Bo Sinclair:

You had promised yourself that tonight you were going to make yourself lay in bed and wait for sleep to come, yet here you were now. Bo had been asleep for half an hour before you’d gotten up and moved into the living room. It was like this every night, nearly. Sleep didn’t come easy so you’d move to sit in the living room until you felt you were about to pass out.

You spent the time reading, catching up on things that you hadn’t gotten to in the day, or just generally lazing around and thinking about anything that came to mind. Music was also a close companion to you in these late hours. In general, you figured that moving to the living room would spare Bo from having to deal with any of it. He worked hard during the day and was bone tired by the time he laid down in bed. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him up with your… Insomnia? Anxiety? Restlessness.

You’d walk around if you weren’t worried about Vincent in the basement. He needed his sleep for his creativity. This particular night, you sat staring at a blank tv and thinking about nothing in particular. Sleep felt closer than it had two hours ago when you’d first gotten out of bed, but still much too far away to think you’d be asleep any time soon.

You’d been sort of spacing off in thought when you heard the stairs creak, alerting you that Bo had woken up. You turned your head to greet him as he reached the main floor and you swear you saw him jump just a bit when you spoke and asked why he was up. He said he was looking for you. A hint of guilt rose up the back of your throat knowing that he was up late because of you.

He shuffled over to join you on the couch, sleep seemingly doubling down on Bo to make up for your restlessness. He slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him as he moved your head to rest on him. His voice was gruff, evidence that he hadn’t been up for long, as he asked why you were up. When you told him you couldn’t sleep, he gave a low hum in response. After a few long moments of silence, he spoke back up to ask how often this happened. To your reply of ‘often’ he hummed again.

The two of you sat like that for a long while, in the dark and in silence. The stillness of it all, mixed with the warmth Bo was radiating seemed to make your eyelids heavy and your thoughts slow. You were only half conscious by the time he shuffled the both of you, him laying down with you on top of him, your head on his chest as his arms rested on your back as if to make sure you stayed there. As if you wanted to be anywhere else in this moment.

Your breathing got slower, deeper as your blinks grew longer and longer. One of Bo’s hands left its position on your back to pet your hair. You were out before you knew it, sleeping deeper than you had in weeks. Bo was better than any glass of warm milk or blanket straight from the dryer could ever be.

By the time you wake up, the sun has risen and Bo has left the couch. You had a blanket over you and pulled up to your chin. You would have thought you’d imagined the whole night if it weren’t for the faint smell of Bo that still lingered on your clothes and the couch below you.

After that night, Bo held you a little closer in bed. He stayed up a little later to see how tired you were, and would ask more often how you slept in the morning. It didn’t always fix your restlessness, but you didn’t leave bed quite as often and that was progress.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is a really, REALLY light sleeper so it’s basically impossible to do anything but lay in bed with your thoughts or the sketchbook Vincent gifted you a while back, if you remembered to put it somewhere you can reach it. Sitting with your thoughts or drawing/writing in your sketchbook are really your only two options.

Vince also stays up really late, so for you to be up later than him is quite the achievement. Still, insomnia is no match for the late-night habits of an artist. You’ve been awake for about an hour since he fell asleep, and you were starting to get restless. Before him, you’d move to a different room if you were going to sit. Beds made you toss and turn in discomfort, but Vince already got so little sleep as it is, so you’d made the decision to bear through it.

Until you couldn’t. You just couldn’t take laying down and tossing around in bed. You had to sit up and do something, ANYTHING besides lay there. Just as you thought, the instant you sit up, Vince is awake and looking at you. You had to explain why you were up, being unable to sleep and feeling trapped just laying down. He gets it, he really does. Before you, he’d had the same issues.

Vincent sits up and takes a second to wake up a bit more before standing up and turning to help you up as well. You looked at him with confusion but took his hand regardless. He guided you out of the basement, motioning for you to be quiet and pointing upstairs to remind you that Bo was sleeping in the house as well. You felt like two delinquent teens trying to sneak out of the house without your parents noticing. Vince gave you an extra sweater of his and you both set out walking.

You held his hand, swinging it back and forth as you both strolled through town. The cicadas and other wildlife were loud, using their restlessness to make a song unique to the nights in the south. It was peaceful, if a bit chilly. Your eyes were up at the stars and the moon that hung in the air as if it had been painted there. Vincent must have noticed because he took a quick turn, deviating from the town roads and leading you into one of the abandoned houses.

You both went up the stairs and then out of a window in one of the bedrooms, climbing a ledge before finally settling down on the roof of one of the taller houses in town. There was already a blanket and some small art supplies in a box, indicating that Vince comes here often. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he did, knowing how much he loved the quiet and knowing how loud Bo could be in the house.

You were curled into Vince’s side as he laid on his back, getting a small sketchbook out of the little box and flipping through the pages. He’d drawn different parts of the night sky and marked out different constellations. He held the book up to the sky, matching the drawing to the location it held then pointing to the name of the constellations on the bottom of the page. Stargazing.

This when on for a while, and you realized occasionally that you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were unfocused and your ears seemed to stop listening to the surrounding drone of the night. Vince caught on and set the book back into the box, closing it before moving to hold you. You were softly asleep soon after that.

When you woke up, you were back in the basement. It was sometime in the late morning and Vince was working on his newest sculpture while you laid firmly tucked into bed. His attention shifted to you as you sat up and rubbed your eyes. When you asked him how you’d gotten back, he’d signed that he’d carried you back home after you fell asleep. He also pointed to the glass of water he’d gotten you for when you woke up.

Stars and stargazing became a lot more of a symbol for the two of you after that night, leading Vince to get you a star necklace and nicknamed you 'his stars'. The two of you would have dates on that roof from time to time, and Vince had started planning to propose to you on that same roof when the time was right.

Brahms Heelshire:

The Heelshire manor was huge. There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms that were rarely or never used. It made for great wandering when you found yourself wide awake once again late at night. Maybe one day you’d even have the place mapped out in your mind. At the rate you wandered at night, it might only take you a couple of weeks. Sometimes, you’d think of different situations to keep your mind entertained. You were an old victorian ghost, haunting your old homestead centuries after your tragic death. You were a spy, sneaking into the house of a grand tzar to gather intel and maybe a few valuables for the road. Every night it was something new. Only one thing really had to be kept in mind. You HAD to be silent.

Brahms was a light sleeper at the best of times, so it’s a miracle that you could get out of bed to walk around at all. At this hour, squeaky floorboards, stairs, and doors were your worst enemy, and in a house as old as the Heelshire place? It was quite the task to avoid them.

This night, in particular, you were wandering around the upper floors, seeing the different bedrooms and such as you went down the halls. Your mind was off somewhere else. You were an adventurer looking for the stolen diamond, a pirate hunting down the X on their map, a nanny with a possible case of insomnia, and a very large house calling your name.

You were so far off in thought, in fact, that you’d forgotten that the particular door you were about to open had a particularly loud set of hinges. The resounding creak that came from them sure seemed to remind you, drawing your attention back to now as it echoed down the halls. You froze. The house was quiet at any given moment, being that it was just you and Brahms, but at night it was like a cool blanket settled over the place, muffling any noise from outdoors and sucking away any sounds of the heater or water running through pipes that you’d normally hear.

You continued to stand, stock-still as you listened for any sign of Brahms. He’d surely throw a fit if he woke up to find that you weren’t in bed with him. Sure, he could sleep for days, but only if you were with him. If you’re not in his arms, he’s just as good at catching sleep as you are, which is to say it would completely evade him. Without sleep, he grew grumpy and short-tempered which would surely wind up in a fit. It was just better not to wake him up and alert him to your absence.

Any home of that went down the drain as you heard a high-pitched childish voice call out your name in confusion behind you, scaring you to death and back as you whipped around to see Brahms standing not too far away down the hall. He’d been absolutely silent in sneaking up behind you so quickly. You prepared yourself for some sort of whining or meltdown, apologizing softly for waking him up and explaining that you were just walking around because you couldn’t sleep.

You suggested he go back to bed. He’d responded in the same childish voice “sleep with me.” and you could only get out his name in a sigh before he grabbed your hand, tightly but not forcefully, and started walking in the direction of the room you two shared. He wouldn’t take any version of no for an answer. It was frustrating, sure, but you knew in the back of your mind that he was doing it because he cared.

He lays down, bringing you with him and cuddling you in such a way that you were both on your sides, facing each other in a loose hug with Brahms’ leg thrown over your hips. You couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. After a moment, when you’re both settled and comfortable, Brahms starts humming softly. Not in his high-pitched, childish voice. No, he was humming in his low, natural voice, one of his favorite classical songs you’d often play while reading to him. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes before you were waking up the next morning.

Brahms learns, after this incident, that you’ll relax from just about anything if he hums to you. Angry? Humming. Stressed out? Humming. Crying? Humming. It’s his go-to cure and it works 90% of the time.

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