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#so that i could definitively talk about what kind of new things they'd have to be installing in the castle
possamble · 17 days
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seconding that anon abt the worldbuilding accuracy, i wouldnt have given it a second thought myself lol. personally im more of a character dynamics guy so its v much "source: dude trust me" meme situation except its me as a reader trusting u as the author abt that stuff -- tunnel anon
you guys are so nice to me. but you cannot trust me like that i am too stupid. it used to be "a three hour walk" until i actually double-checked and was like ooohhhhh that is geographically impossible. okay. cool.
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dustydaddyyy · 1 year
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sweetheart | joel miller x fem! reader
pairing: joel miller x fem! reader
summary: you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.
a/n: basically just porn with some plot that started at 2k and ended up becoming 13k. enjoy these 13k of unhinged depravity :)
warnings: (18+) SMUT (extended warning are under the cut), age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 32), swearing, mentions and consumption of alcohol, use of petnames (mostly sweetheart and one darling), probably inaccurate descriptions of the southern US, reader's mom is kind of annoying, reader kind of seduces joel (ish), neighbor!joel (is this a warning?) single dad! joel (what about this one?), reader babysits Sarah a few times
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extended warnings: smut, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (pls in the name of the lord practice safe sex people), some (relatively tame) dry humping, couch sex, definitely some praise kink (we're moving on), for sure some soft!dom!joel, but also a pinch of dom!reader (👀), a lil cockwarming, maybe like a bit of a breeding kink if you really, really squint and i think that's it! please let me know if i've missed any. no use of y/n in this fic.
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"Is this really how you're going to be spending your entire holiday?"
You bite back a groan as you look at your mom from where you'd been laying down on the lounge chair in the garden, book dropping from in front of your face so you can peer at her from behind your sunglasses.
"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask her, and she shrugs as she continues to water her rhododendrons.
"You've been home a week now," she tells you pointedly, "And you've sat more in that chair than I have all year,"
"I'm on break," you say matter of factly, "That's kind of the point," Your mum lets out a hum as she continues watering her flowers, which you ignore as you bring your book back up in front of your face. 
It's hot out in the Texas sun, almost too hot, but having come from the constant cold and rain in Seattle, you find yourself not caring too much as you bask in the sunlight. You're not wearing much, dressed only in a bikini top and pair of old shorts, that are maybe a touch too snug, but survived your parents' move from Galveston. They'd moved to Austin at the end of last summer for your father's new job. You hadn't been to the new house over Christmas, your parents having come up to visit Seattle for the holidays, instead. Austin and Galveston weren't such different cities, it was all still Texas, but the one thing you found yourself desperately missing, especially now in the heat, was the ocean.
Somewhere in one of the neighbouring gardens, the sound of a lawnmower being turned on fills the air. You ignore it, putting down your book for a second instead and watching as your mother shuffles over to the flowers lining the wooden fence which separates your neighbour's garden from yours.
"I'm getting a drink," you declare, swinging your legs over the side of the sun lounger, "Can I get you anything, Mom?"
"I'm alright," your mom says with a wave of your hand, and you nod, before turning on your heel and going inside to get your drink, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. The house is delightfully cool as you open the screen door. On your way to the kitchen you pass the living room, finding your dad passed out on the couch, fan on full blast and TV displaying the U.S. Golf Open.
You bite back a chuckle as you step into the kitchen, filling up a glass of water before chugging it down, wiping the rest off your chin, before filling it up again. You spend a couple of minutes leaning against your counter taking small sips, before your ears perk up at the sound of your mom's voice from the garden. It's faint, like she's talking to someone, and you frown slightly as you think about who she could be talking to, considering your dad is in no state to have conversation with anybody, right now. 
You shrug it off, taking a few more sips before you go back through the house the way you came, your mother's voice becoming clearer as her laugh floats through the screen door. The sun bears down on your face once more as you step back into the garden, your eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright light as you close the screen door behind you.
"–there you are, peanut! I was just telling Joel about you, come and say hi. . ."
"Goody," you mutter to yourself as the screen door clicks shut.
"­–you remember I told you about Joel, don't you, honey? He lives next door with his daughter, Sarah,"
You bite back a sigh, before plastering a smile over your face as you turn to the garden to meet another undoubtedly middle-aged, pot-bellied man.
Either way, you're not expecting the man standing by the wooden fence; he's pretty young, maybe early thirties, with dark, scruffy hair and an equally half-kept scruffy beard and mustache. He's a handsome man, with dark, warm eyes that scan your face and an angular jaw and nose.
"Sure, I remember" you let out, smiling at him sweetly, "Pleased to meet you,"
"Hello," he returns your greeting with a slight nod, and his voice is deep and gravelly, tinged with that telltale Texan accent, "Nice to finally meet you, your mom sure does talk about you a lot,"
You give him a dry, sarcastic smile, raising your brows slightly. "She sure does like to talk,"
Joel lets out a chuckling breath, corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as your Mom rolls her eyes.
"Always so dry, that one," she comments, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you sit back down on the sun lounger.
"Your mom said you were home from college for the summer. . . How long you visiting for?" Joel says with a clear of his throat.
You go to open your mouth as Joel waits patiently for your answer, but your mom beats you to it. "Until about mid-August. . . good to have her home, she hadn't been down here at the new house since we moved, you see. . ."
Joel's gaze lingers on you for a second before his eyes turn back to your mother, whose animated conversation you tune out, as you pull your sunglasses back down onto your nose, and pick your book back up, stretching your bare legs over the lounger. 
Your mind is anywhere but the book, however, and you make sure to hold it at such an angle that you can still peer over the spine, eyes shamelessly rolling over Joel's form from behind your sunglasses. He's wearing an old, dark green t-shirt that's covered in white paint splatters and looks like it's several sizes too small, but you don't find yourself complaining as your eyes linger over the bulge of his biceps under the shirt, broad chest stretching out the faded logo on the front. Your eyes travel down his torso to the shorts he's wearing, and you're pretty grateful for your sunglasses because you find your gaze lingering down from his belt to his zipper, material bulging slightly outwards­–
"­–Peanut can do it, can't you darling? She's real good with kids,"
Your mom's voice startles you out of your philandering thoughts, and eyes, and you pretend to look up from your book, heart skipping in your chest for a second as the idea that you'd just been checking out your parents' ridiculously attractive neighbor .
"Huh?" you let out, rather dumbly, lowering the book, and your mom makes an impatient noise.
"Joel's sitter called in sick and we've gotta be at the Council meeting after dinner," she explains, "You can watch Sarah for a couple of hours, can't you?"
"Uh–" you struggle to find your words for a second as Joel looks at you, before he puts up his hand in a reassuring gesture.
"Don't worry," he ensures you, shaking his head, "I ain't going to interrupt your evening plans, they don't need me at the council meeting, anyway–"
"Plans!" your mom says through a surprised chuckle, shaking her head "She doesn't have any, don't you worry," 
"Thanks, mom," you grumble under your breath, and again you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth twitch in held back amusement at your comment, before you clear your throat and nod, offering him a tentative smile, "Sure, I'm happy to help,"
"You sure?" he asks, and you nod, "It's just a couple hours, I'll be back before ten,"
"No worries, I can do that. . . uh–. . . how old is Sarah?" you ask, cringing slightly at the fact that you don't know, but Joel doesn't seem offended.
"She's eight," he informs you, and you nod again, "But don't worry, it won't be much work. . . she usually only stays up a couple of hours after dinner and then crashes,"
"Yeah, no problem," you reassure him, smiling slightly, and Joel gives you a grateful look. 
"Perfect! She'll be over after dinner, then," your mom beams, and he nods, clearing his throat.
"Thanks a lot, you're doing me a real favor," he comments, but something in Joel's tone tells you he would've rather stayed home with his daughter than attended a 3-hour long community council meeting chaired mostly by the middle-aged ladies of the neighborhood,
"No worries," you tell him with another sweet smile, and Joel's eyes linger on your face for a second, before he clears his throat, wiping his hands on his shorts and looking back at your mom. "Right. . . gotta get back to this lawn, but I'll see you both later, then,"
"See you later, Joel," your mom beams, and you give one more saccharine 'bye' in his direction before he disappears back into his garden. The minute she hears the lawn mower turn back on, your Mum comes to sit on the edge of your sun lounger.
"He's nice, isn't he?" she says, and you give an affirmative hum as you continue reading, "Handsome, too. . .been living out here 5 years,"
"Interesting," you say, and your voice sounds far from interested, but your mom doesn't pay it any attention as she continues.
"No wife, though. . . Betty said he's just raising Sarah on his own, has been his whole life. . . she thinks the wife ran away, or something, one of these nutjobs that abandons their own child–"
"Mom," you interrupt, putting your book down as you tip your glasses down your nose and give her a look, "You shouldn't be gossiping about this,"
You mom looks guilty for a second, before she purses her lips haughtily, getting back to her feet. "You're right, I suppose. . . well, either way, we gotta do what we can to help him out, don't we? Can't imagine it's easy being a single parent,"
"I'm sure it isn't," you comment, before you close your book with a small smack, deciding that reading in the vicinity of your mother is going to be impossible, "I'm gonna head back in. . . grab a shower, before dinner,"
"Sure, peanut," your mom says with a nod, before she redirects herself back to pruning the rosebush.
You make your way back inside the house, past your dad in the living room and up the carpeted stairs to your bedroom. It's not decorated exactly the way your old one in Galveston used to be, but it still has your old bed and dresser, and your mom has hung a couple of paintings you did when you were in middle school on the walls. You drop your book on the dresser, letting out a sigh as you walk over to the window to open it and let some air in.
Your room is on the left side of the house, closest to the neighbor's garden, and as your fingers grip the edge of the window to pull it up, they stall as your eye falls on Joel as he mows his lawn. Your eyes widen slightly as you see that Joel's isn't wearing the olive-green shirt anymore, having instead discarded it in a heap on one of his faded deck chairs, leaving him in nothing but those shorts. You watch as the sun glistens on his sweat-drenched skin, accentuating every contour of the muscular physique that had been hidden away by his t-shirt earlier.His strong arms flexing as he grips the lawnmower's handle, his movements deliberate and confident. The rhythmic sound of the engine fills the air, blending with the gentle breeze and the sounds of the kids three houses up playing in their pool. He moves with a surprising grace, a sensuality even in such a mundane task as his forehead creases with effort and focus.
You're almost mesmerised as you lean in closer, breath fogging against the glass of your window. He stops for a second, hand coming up to wipe some sweat from his brow, and in that split second he looks up, hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight, almost directly at you. You fumble slightly with the windowsill, eyes quickly moving away as you push the window up and open, pretending not to see him and fussing with your curtains, instead. Your eyes move back down for a split second, heart pounding in your chest at the idea he may have caught you staring at him, but Joel is already focusing on his lawn mower again, continuing on his way across his garden. 
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"It's open, come on in!" comes a shout from inside the Miller house as you stand in front of their screen door, and you push it open gingerly.
Stepping across the threshold, the first thing that catches your eye is the haphazard mix of shoes strewn under the coat hook, ranging from Size 9 boots crusted with mud to a pair of bright pink trainers with glitter laces. The house isn't much different from yours. The stairs to the second floor are in the same place as your parents to the right of the hallway which you assume continues into the living room and kitchen. The wall is decorated with a mix of children's drawings, a few faded posters and various pictures of Joel and a young girl with curly black hair and a beaming smile.
"Sarah, where's my watch?" Joel's voice echoes from upstairs through the hall, and there's hurried steps on the landing upstairs, "I told you to stop playing with that thing!"
"I didn't take it. . . It's in your dresser drawer," comes another voice, a young girl's, from upstairs. There's the sound of thundering steps as someone hurries down the stairs, and you look up from where you'd been taking off your shoes to be faced with the young girl from the photos. She's older, but the smile is unmistakable as she stops three steps short of the ground, grinning brightly at you.
"Hi!" she lets out, and you give her a cautious smile.
"Hey there," you return, trying to keep your tone from being awkward, "I live next door,"
"Dad told me," she says with a nod, "He's almost ready, he gets really scatterbrained when he's in a hurry is all,"
"It's no problem. . . so do I," you say with a chuckle, and her smile widens as she contemplates you.
"You're really pretty," Sarah blurts suddenly, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Sarah," comes Joel's voice from the top of the stairs before you can open your mouth and respond, "That doesn't sound like it's any of your business, now does it?"
Joel cleans up nice. Gone are the faded t-shirt and frayed shorts, and they've been replaced with a pair of dark jeans and a plaid blue short-sleeved button down, albeit still wrinkled in some places. His hair still looks damp, and either Joel forgot to run a comb through it or he just doesn't care enough, because his curls are an unruly mess on his head, but it suits him. He's fastening a watch on his wrist as he comes down, and it takes a decent amount of willpower not to let your eyes run across the length of his muscular arm as it flexes with effort.
"It's alright, Mr. Miller, I don't mind," you say with a slight laugh as Joel hurries down the stairs, Sarah jumping the last few steps ahead of him. At your use of his last name, his head snaps up suddenly, eyes boring into yours.
"Joel," he corrects almost immediately, his voice soft but with a sharp undertone, before he grimaces, "Please. . . Mr. Miller makes me feel. . . old,"
"You are old," Sarah teases, before she turns back to you, "So do you?"
"Have a boyfriend?" you ask her, and she sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Duh,"
"I don't right now, no," you say, chuckling slightly.
"Oh," Sarah sounds put out, her eyebrows knitting into a frown, "Why not?"
Joel lets out a tutting sound as he stops a few steps away from you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes hastily.
"Sarah, enough," he chides her, giving his daughter a look, "Go and do something else rather than harass your babysitter,"
"I'm eight," she grumbles, "Don't even need a babysitter. . . you're just grouchy because you have to go to the community meeting and hang around all the old biddies,"
"Sa-rah," Joel hisses pointedly at his daughter, giving her a glare, but you laugh, shaking your head.
"I don't blame him, I'm not a huge fan of the old biddies myself," you tell Sarah jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at her, "Besides, a handsome man like your dad? I'm sure they stick to him like flies in a honey trap,"
Sarah lets out a giggle, her nose scrunching. "Oh, they love him,"
"Okay, alright," Joel says with a roll of his eyes as he grabs his keys off the small table in the entrance hall, "You're both being very funny. . . Sarah, why don't you go do the dishes in the sink you were supposed to do half an hour ago instead of standing here talking smack,"
You chuckle slightly as Sarah giggles again, before she darts off down the hallway to what you assume in the kitchen.
"Right, okay. . . she's had dinner already, there's some ravioli in the fridge if you get hungry, there's beer if you want–" Joel stops midway through his sentence, his brows knitting together as he regards you, "Hold on, can you even have beer?"
"I'm twenty-two, Joel," you say with a half-sarcastic, half-reassuring smile, nodding, "I can have beer,"
Joel's face doesn't change for a split-second as he seems to process this, before mouth opens into a nervous chuckle as he stuffs his keys in his back pocket. "Right, makes sense, sorry. . . uh–. . . that's it, right? My number's on the landline speed dial if anything happens, and I'll be home before 10,"
"Got it," you say with a nod, "Enjoy what I'm sure will be an absolutely riveting meeting about the neighborhood lawn maintenance standards,"
Joel grimaces, before chuckling dryly. "I'm sure I won't,"
You give a giggle as he steps towards the screen door, opening it up.
"See you later," he says, and you nod. 
"Bye," you say in a honeyed tone, and you watch him walk down the walkway towards his truck. Your eyes follow him as he gets in the car, feeling something pool in your lower belly just at the sight of him. Then, Sarah's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
"You coming?"
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Turns out, Joel's babysitter ends up being sick for a lot longer than he'd anticipated, which means you end up spending a lot more of your days and evenings in the Miller household than you anticipated doing this summer.
It does nothing but encourage your growing attraction to Joel, like adding kindling to an ever-growing fire with every second you spend in his presence, and after two weeks of babysitting Sarah a few nights and a few afternoons, you feel yourself start to get bolder.
You're braver with your touches, the occasional light brush of your fingers against his arm becoming more deliberate, hands lingering during a conversation or shared moment of laughter. You've noticed that Joel reacts to you, as well, albeit in a much more restrained way, but it does nothing to deter you.If anything, his restraint only encourages you to push further, a little more each time. It's like a challenge, and shit, do you enjoy a challenge.
It's Wednesday evening, and you're in the entrance house of the Miller house again, kicking off your shoes as you hear Joel move around upstairs.
"Hello!" you shout into the house, and almost immediately you hear Sarah's footsteps race through the corridor, before she comes tearing around the corner. When she catches sight of you, more specifically what you're wearing, she lets loose a screech of excitement.
"You look so good!" she lets out in a squeal, her feet stomping on the spot as she looks at you, "He isn’t going to know what to do with himself,”
“Yes, thank you, if you could keep your voice down about it that would be great,” you tell her as you take off your coat, giving her a look, and she giggles. 
“He’s too busy running around the house getting ready to eavesdrop,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “When are you going to meet him?” 
“Don’t know yet,” you return in a mockery of her dreamy tone, before rolling your eyes, “I’m here watching you first, he’ll come pick me up after,”
Sarah’s eyes shine with excitement. “You mean I get to see him?” 
“You better be in bed snoring when that happens missy,” you tell her, your hands coming to your hips as you give her a stern look. 
“Who better be in bed when what happens?” comes Joel’s voice as he appears at the top of the stairs, before hurrying down like he always does. This time, however, as he’s fastening his watch strap, his eyes momentarily move expectantly onto Sarah. 
“Nothing, Dad,” Sarah lies surprisingly well, “Just that I’d better be in bed by the time you get home,” 
“Which won’t be very late, by the way, probably around te–” Joel’s voice stalls in his throat as his gaze falls on you, and his eyebrows fly up his forehead, “What are you all dolled up for?”
He’s not wrong that you’d gotten dolled up for the evening, but it wasn’t for babysitting; you were having drinks with someone you knew through a friend later, after babysitting. 
“It’s part of my very elaborate plan to seduce you,” you say simply, shrugging innocently but corners of your mouth pulled into the beginnings of a smile. 
There’s a split second of silence where Joel’s eyes widen slightly, before Sarah bursts into laughter, and a full smile starts spreading over your features. 
“Well I gotta say you’re failing pretty desperately, then,” Joel counters, and Sarah breaks into another round of laughter as your jaw falls open in shock and almost theoretical offense.
“You jacka–” you stop yourself, suddenly very aware of Sarah’s younger ears as you hold in your swear, pressing your lips together into a grudging smile, and it makes Joel chuckle slightly as he gets to the bottom of the stairs. 
“Careful. . . little ears are listening,” he says the last part in an airy voice as he passes you by, and you scoff, shaking your head. 
“Sarah, please go away so I can call your dad a name,” you tell her after a second of silence, and Joel lets out a sound of protest as he puts on his shoes, Sarah laughing again before she dutifully turns on her heel and runs back down the hall. 
When she’s gone, you turn to Joel, leaning slightly towards him to ensure he hears you. 
“Jack–ass,” you enunciate, and he nods with a smirk. 
“You started it,” 
“Sarah told me you have a date,” you say, smiling, “You sure it’s only going to be 10?” 
“Once again, my eight-year-old shares my business with the entire world,” 
“I’m not the entire world, I’m me,” you chime in, and Joel snorts. 
“It’s not that kind of date,” 
“Oh,” you let out, making a small grimace of disappointment, “Boring,” 
“Thanks,” Joel says with a dry smile, and you make another face, this one apologetic. 
"How do I look?" he asks you, holding his arms out semi-nervously, and you bite back a smile.
"Very pretty," you say half-seriously, and he rolls his eyes at you.
"You're funny," he tells you, pointing a finger at you and shaking his head, "Alright, I think I'm off then,"
With that, Joel goes to turn on his heel, but suddenly he feels your fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling gently.
"Joel, wait," you let out through a breathy laugh, taking a few steps forward so you're standing in front of him suddenly, your fingers releasing his wrist. Joel goes stiff, but you don't notice as you bring your hands up, one falling on his shoulder gently and the other moving towards his face, before he feels your thumb swipe over the edge of his jaw, "You've got­ shaving cream–. . . there you go,"
Joel's eyes watch your face as you chuckle slightly, before you tut as your eyes fall to his shirt, corners on your mouth twitching upwards into the beginning of a smile.
"–and your collar's crooked," you say, your hands moving to straighten out the lapels of his shirt, letting out a chuckle, your voice a little lower and a little deeper than Joel's ever noticed before, ". . jesus Joel,"
When you're satisfied with the correct shape of his shirt collar, your eyes move from his jaw to find him staring down at you. You're suddenly very aware of Joel; how close he's standing, the way his eyes are trained on yours, lingering, the way he smells. He smells really good, a mix of sandalwood aftershave and ––
You can't help yourself as you sniff the air, before your eyebrows crease slightly, eyes full of sudden question. "Do. . . do you smell like strawberry?"
You watch as Joel's cheeks color a slight pink, lips pursing with an expression as if he's been made, "I ran out of shower gel. . . had to use Sarah's,"
Your lips press together and Joel can tell you're trying desperately not to smile, but he can see the laughter in your eyes as you look up at him, twinkling with amusement.
"Very manly," you manage to bring out, giving him a teasingly reassuring smile, and for the first time that evening Joel's shoulders deflate of tension as he lets out a laughing scoff, shaking his head and looking away, smirk growing on his lips as he hears you start to laugh.
"You are a mean woman, you know that?" he tells you, and for the first time, you hear something in Joel's tone, something. . . friendlier. It’s teasing, almost flirty.  
"I was joking," you let out with a chuckle on your own as he turns back to laugh at you, raising a single eyebrow as his eyes meet yours.
"Didn't sound like you were joking, sweetheart," he says, and you feel something in your stomach at the sound of the nickname rolling over his lips. 
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you tell him, sarcastically, and when you find yourself looking into his eyes a split second longer than you should, you swallow, pulling your hands away from his face, and taking a step back. 
"Thanks," he says, clearing his throat as he steps towards the screen door.
"Anytime," you say, giving him a smooth, playful smile, covering up the moment of tension that passed between you just now, "You look great, Joel. . . she's a lucky woman,"
He gives a little scoff, raising his brows slightly. "I'll be back by ten,"  
“I believe you,” you tell him sarcastically as he steps over the threshold, “Bye, Joel,”
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Joel is late. 
Only by half an hour. You’d already texted the guy you were meeting to tell him it would be later and that you’d keep him in the loop, but that doesn’t stop you making sure all your things are ready to go already an hour before Joel even gets home. It’s 22:34 when his keys sound in the front door, 20 minutes after he’d sent a one-word text that he was on his way back, and you’re sitting on the couch watching a rerun of the Wire. 
You look up as Joel walks in.
“Hi,” you let out in a softer voice as you sit, pulling your denim jacket off the couch armrest, “How was it?” 
You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes run over the exposed skin of your shoulders and chest in your thin-strapped dress for a small moment before he looks back up at you and gives a nod. 
“Nice,” he tells you, and you nod with a smile, pulling the jacket on and getting up off the couch, “Did Sara behave?” 
“No complaints,” you say with a laugh, “Kid’s an angel,” 
Joel smiles slightly as he nods, before he watches you grab your bag, which had been lying by the couch and sling it over your shoulder, “You headed home?” 
You stifle a small yawn, before smiling with a shake of your head. “No, I’m headed into downtown. . . meeting someone for drinks,” 
“You should’ve told me!” Joel lets out in surprise, eyes widening slightly, and you chuckle softly, waving him off. 
“It’s really fine, he can wait a half hour,” 
“How are you getting downtown? Do you need a ride?” he offers, but you shake your head, before you pull your phone out of your back pocket to look at the plastic display. 
“I’ve got one,” you say, and your voice is almost a little timid, as though being picked up by your date from Joel’s was somehow more embarrassing than at your own house. 
“He picking you up?” Joel asks, and you nod. 
As if on cue, a set of headlights flash through the living room window as a car pulls up on the side of the curb on the opposite side of the street. 
“Do you need me again this week?” you ask, looking back at Joel from where you’d watched the car pull up. Joel shakes his head. 
“Don’t think so,” he comments, before his brow creases for a split second, “But try not to get abducted on your date, I’d like to keep the option open,” 
“I’ll try not to,” you reply through a knowing chuckle, before walking past him towards the front door, hand on the knob. 
“If I suddenly stop answering texts, call the police,” you say half-jokingly, and Joel turns to give you a look and points his finger at you as you open the door. 
“That isn’t funny,” he tells you in a half-serious tone, and you snicker once more before you step over the threshold. 
“Goodnight, Joel,” 
Joel watches you walk down the front path, denim jacket pulled tightly over your shoulders against the evening chill, legs bare under your dress. He watches you get in the car parked on the curb, greeting whoever is driving with the same blinding smile you sometimes give him, and Joel feels something rear up slightly in his chest. It’s like a shock through his body, and he averts his eyes as the car drives off, shuffling back into his living room with a mild frown on his face as he pulls out his mobile. It's a cheap, battered Nokia model that Joel doesn't use enough to replace.
You’ve barely turned the curb when your own phone buzzes, and you pull it out of the pocket of your jacket. 
from: joel. 10:39 PM  
pls call if getting murdered 
You can’t stop the slight chuckle that falls over your lips, and it makes the guy driving you look over, giving a tentative grin. “What’s funny?” 
“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head with a smile as you type a reply, “Just something stupid,” 
to: joel 10:40 PM
i’ll try my best
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You don't see Joel for the rest of the week, which is really only a few days if you think about it.
You hear his truck, the sound of his deep voice floating through the Miller's open back doors and windows as he hollers through the house for Sarah or Tommy, you can even hear them come up their front driveway if you're in the living room, but you don't see him.
You haven't seen Joel, and yet you think you're going a little crazy, because you're still thinking about him.   
You don't know what's consuming you, but every time you hear him around the neighborhood, your thoughts redirect to him, to your interactions. . . and then your mind starts to wander. . . you think about how his hands might feel running over your body, gripping the dips of your hips, how it would feel to kiss him, trace your lips over the curves of the muscles in his chest–
"Kiddo, you still with me?"
Your dad's voice interrupts your train of thought, and your mind returns to the present situation, which is you putting the plates your dad is handing you in the dishwasher.
"Hm?" you return, and your Dad chuckles.
"What's got you so deep in thought, hm? You've been absent all day,"
You give a shrug, taking the plate he's handing you and leaning over to slot it into the dishwasher. "It's nothing Dad. . . just thinking about my book,"
"Since when is book code for boys?" your dad chuckles, and your eyes widen as you look at him, thinking you've been made.
But how the hell could he know what you'd been thinking?
"What?" you bring out, and your dad smiles knowingly.
"You've been like this ever since you went out for those drinks," he tells you, raising an eyebrow, "You may be older, but you're still my little girl. . . I can read you like a book,"
You make a note of how happy you are that your dad can't actually read your thoughts like a book, because you're pretty sure if he could he'd be shipping you off to a convent right about now.
You give a small smile. "You got me,"
You figure it's easier to explain you've been thinking about some guy you'd had three drinks with and never plan on calling again instead of confessing to your dad that last night you'd had the possibly dirtiest dream about the very man he likes to invite over for monthly poker nights.
"You seein’ him again tonight?" your dad asks, and you shake your head with a chuckle.
"No," you say pointedly, "Tonight it's just me and some friends,"
"Alright," your dad says with a nonchalant raise of his hands, before your eyes fall on the clock hanging on the wall.
"I should be going soon, actually," you say, and your dad nods, "Laura said she'd be by around eight thirty–"
At that precise moment, you hear a honking noise from the street, and as you peer through the window, you see Laura's fern green Toyota Corolla parked on the curb in front of your house. 
"That's my cue," you say with a smile, before grabbing your purse from the dining table and leaning in to kiss your dad on the cheek, "See you later, dad,"
"Have fun honey," your dad says, and as you walk to the door of the kitchen, he adds, "If you need a ride home, call me, alright?"
"I will," you holler over your shoulder, before you step through the corridor and swing the door open.
It's somewhere after 8:30 PM, and the sun has only just started setting in the sky. It's mid-July, so it's still warm out, but you find that the evening heat and humidity is a little less oppressive than during the day. Nevertheless, you're not wearing anything but the silk slip dress you'd had on all day, deciding not to bring a cardigan at the last minute, guessing you’d be fine.
Laura honks again as you step out of the door, and as you make your way towards her car, she leans out the driver's seat and whistles. "Well hello there, hot stuff!"
You let out a laugh, shaking your head and your cheeks burning slightly as you wave her off. You'd met Laura at college in Seattle; you'd been in the same statistics class, and it had been pure chance when you'd become friends after you'd pointed out her Texas Longhorns shirt, which had led to you telling her your parents had just moved to Austin from Galveston, which happened to be where Laura was from.
"Shut up," you tell her jokingly as you pull open the car door, before getting in, "How are you doing?"
Laura is a short girl, with fair, freckle dotted skin and hair the color of rust. Her usual chartreuse green eyes are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and she gives you a smirk as she tilts her head down, giving you a look over them.
"All good here, doll," she says, before pushing her sunglasses up her forehead into her hair, "How was your day?"
"Good," you say with a nod, before you watch as Laura's eyes shift to something over your shoulder, eyebrows creeping up her forehead.
"Is that your neighbor?" she asks, and you turn in your seat to look at where she's staring, "You never told me he looked like that!"
True enough, Joel is standing in his driveway talking to Tommy, who's leaning out of the window of his truck, cigarette between his lips. He's wearing those same ratty beige shorts you've come to know so well, and a grimy grey t-shirt covered in black grease marks, undoubtedly from working in the garage all day. He still looks good, despite the sweat and the grime, shirt hugging his biceps and chest in just the right way and hair mussed on his head.
"It's criminal," you mutter, and Laura laughs, before you watch as the Miller's front door flies open and Sarah bounds down the path, purple backpack slung over shoulder.
"That his daughter? The one you babysit?" Laura asks, and you hum in agreement, "Jesus. . .who knew they made daddies so yummy, these days,"
"Maybe we shouldn't be staring," you realize suddenly, very aware of the fact that Joel could move his head any minute and spot you ogling him. He's probably already noticed you when Laura had honked at you from the front door.
"Hey, it is my human right to stare at your hot neighbor," Laura defends, before giving you a look, "You tried anything with him yet?"
"Laura!" you let out, trying to act as though you hadn't been flirting with Joel for the better part of two weeks, but she doesn't buy your tone, and lets out a full laugh.
"I knew it!" she says, shaking her head again with a smirk, "I can't blame you, doll. . .anything?"
"No," you say pointedly, "I mean, maybe. . . probably not,"
At that precise moment, you hear a call of your name, and your eyes widen to watch Sarah giving you an enthusiastic wave from where she's half-way into the passenger seat of Tommy's truck. You try not to look too guilty as you wave back at her, eyes shifting to Joel for a second only to find him looking at you with a half-amused smile. Laura gives another short honk and waves herself as your eyes shift quickly back to Sarah, before chuckling to herself, polite smile plastered on her face, "He's looking at you,"
"Drive, please," you mutter back through your smile, and she snorts as you turn back to her.
"You ready to have some fun?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, and you giggle, humming.
"As long as it involves a significant amount of drinking, I'm happy," you tell her, and she laughs loudly.
"Trust me," Laura says with a chuckle, before turning back to front and shifting the gear, foot stepping on the gas, "I know just the place,"
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To give Laura credit, the bar is fun.
It isn't too busy, nor too empty, and the music is good, at just the right volume to have a conversation without having to yell.
You're about three beers in, one of which was paid for by one of the two guys that had sidled up to you and Laura about half an hour ago. They were cute enough, and Laura seemed pretty taken with the one she was talking with, but your conversation was not nearly as riveting and you quickly felt your mind drifting.
Joel had been floating through your thoughts for the past few days, and seeing him earlier had lit something electric in you; he seemed to occupy your brain like a parasite, thoughts never straying far from his face, his lips, his arms–
Joel (?!)
You feel something like a jolt pass through you as your eyes register his familiar face, and you blink a few times to assure yourself it's him. But he is there, it isn't a figment of your imagination, he's standing on the other end of the bar by one of the tall tables, and he's looking at you.
You feel your cheeks start to burn as a bashful smile overtakes your features, and you look away from him with laughter in your eyes as you turn back to the guy talking sitting opposite you.
"I'll be right back," you tell him, your smile changing slightly but your voice staying honeyed and soft, "I'm getting another beer,"
"Okay," he says, looking almost a little relieved, and you bite back a smile at the fact that the poor dude is probably just as bored as you are wing manning his friend, and jumping at a chance to disrupt the semi-awkward silence.
You get up from your seat, grabbing your almost empty glass and making a beeline for the bar. From the corner of your eyes, you think you see Joel moving as well, but you don't look his way as you give the bartender a smile, setting your glass down.
"Can I have another, please?" you ask him, and he nods as he takes your empty glass from you.
Then, to your left, someone clears their throat, and you turn to find Joel standing there, giving an amused smile.
"Hello," he tells you with a chuckle, and you press your lips together in a bashful smile as you nod.
"Hi, Joel," you tell him, chuckling slightly, "Long time no see,"
"I know," Joel muses, setting his own glass down, "Was wondering when I'd run into you like this,"
When, not if.
"Didn't think you were much of a bar person," you comment, and Joel's brows raise slightly.
"You makin' assumptions?" he asks you, and you shrug, making a joking grimace.
"Just sayin', Joel," you reply, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into the beginning of a smirk. 
Your conversation interrupts for a second as the barman sets down your drink, and you pay for it. Then, you turn to Joel, beer in hand.
“Well, I'm going to enjoy my beer, which I can have," you say, your tone a joking reference to earlier.
"Yeah, yeah. . . what gets me is that you only think you've been made now," Joel says with a subtle raise of his brow.
"Oh?" you let out, and the corners of Joel's mouth twitch upwards into that smirk again.
"Sweetheart, I've been watching you all evening,"
Oh.
The moments his words reach your ears you feel something sending a small shockwave through your system, and your thighs involuntarily clench, which you try to cover it up with a small scoff.
"Guess I'm not as subtle as I initially thought," you mutter, and Joel lets loose a soft chuckle as he shakes his head.
"I've seen you throw back like 4 beers already, aren't you starting to feel it a little?" he jokes, and you scoff.
"This is my fourth, so no,” you say pointedly, before you press your lips together in a second of silence, "Okay I may be starting to feel it,"
"Alright," he says with a laugh and a raise of his eyebrows, before he finishes the beer at the bottom of his glass, setting it down on the bar next to you when he's done.
"You let me know when you want to go home," he informs you, and your brow creases into a frown as you stand up a little straighter.
"What?” you ask him, and Joel gives you a look, "Joel, no–. . . I'm a big girl. I came here on my own just fine, I can find my way home,"
"I'd still feel better if it were me taking you home," Joel replies in a tone that makes it clear he isn’t going to argue about it, and you suppress a sigh as you feel a shiver run down the back of your neck at his words.
Christ, this man had you in his grip. 
"This is sort of ridiculous. . . I'm an adult, you know," you tell him eventually, and he gives you a dry smile.
"Indulge me, sweetheart,"
He's been a lot more liberal with the nickname lately than you think he's ever been, and it does something to you; every time it falls over his lips, your heart skips and your breath falters, leaving you scrambling to act completely normal about it.
"Fine," you give in, shaking your head with an eye roll, before you push off of the bar, your fourth drink in hand, "But I wouldn't wait around, Joel,"
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Joel does wait around, and rightly so, because after another two hours, you've had enough.
You're not quite drunk, but you find that the alcohol you have drunk is not combining well with the exhaustion of a bad nights' sleep. Laura's been talking to the same guy who'd been by your table for about two hours, and even though his friend had tried chatting you up again, you'd been too distracted by Joel standing on the other side of the bar to be even remotely interested in what he was saying. Finally, you decide to bite the bullet.
"I'm sorry," you tell the guy with a small smile, before putting a hand on Laura's arm, who is deep in conversation with the other guy, "I think I'm headed home,"
"You all right?" she asks immediately, and you nod with a small smile.
"Yeah, just exhausted. . . lack of sleep catching up to me a little," you tell her, and she nods.
"Alright, I'll take you home," she says with a nod, reaching for her purse but you shake your head, giving her arm a squeeze.
"No, no! You stay here and have fun. . . Joel offered me a ride home," you tell her, and you watch as she bites back a smile, raising an eyebrow as her eyes quickly flick over to the bar to look for him.
"Okay," she says knowingly as she looks back at you, before she tries to cover up her smirk, "Get home safe, doll,"
“You too,” 
You excuse yourself, and spot Joel leaning across the bar slightly, saying something to the bartender over the music, not immediately noticing as you walk to him. He only turns to look at you as he feels your fingers graze his arm lightly to get his attention.
"So," you say, your tone joking, "You still want to get out of here?"
To your surprise, Joel's mouth twitches into an amused smile at the double-entendre, which makes you smile slightly, and nods.
"Sure," he says with a knowing look, before he finishes off the rest of his beer, setting it down and saying goodbye to the bartender. He turns to you, pushing off the bar and motioning wordlessly for you to walk ahead, which you do. As you step through the thinning crowd of people in the bar, you swear you can feel Joel's fingers graze the small of your back, but the minute you notice, they're gone again.
The minute you step outside, you shiver slightly, and Joel frowns at you as you walk towards his car. 
"Didn't you bring a sweater?"
You shake your head. "It wasn't this cold when I left. . . besides, I left my usual cardigan on your couch, I think,"   
Joel had only noticed it the next morning, when he'd been sitting in front of the TV with his coffee and suddenly his nose had filled with the smell of you, which had startled him, until he'd spotted your cream cardigan stuffed unceremoniously in the corner of the couch.
Joel gives a hum as you reach the car, and you waste no time getting in the passenger seat, the car offering little extra warmth. Joel gets in, and for a second there's silence as he fastens his seatbelt and puts the key in the ignition, starting the car.
"Sarah at Tommy's tonight?" you ask him, and he hums as he puts the car in reverse, arm coming against the side of your headrest as he turns to look behind him. You feel something flutter in you as your gaze falls on the side of his face, but his eyes remain focused on behind him, oblivious to his effect on you.
"She's at a sleepover," he tells you, "Tommy just took her there,"
You nod in understanding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you process this information, and finally Joel turns back to the wheel as he pulls out onto the road, eyes crossing yours furtively.
"Thanks for taking me, by the way," you say, and Joel nods, "Didn't mean to put an end to your night,"
"No problem, sweetheart. . . it was getting kind of stuffy in there, anyway," he tells you, and you chuckle lightly, before you turn to look out of the window.
"Spoken like a true old man," you say, under your breath, but Joel obviously still hears it, because he snorts.
"At least I'm not drunk after 4 beers," he counters, and your head snaps to look at him as you frown jokingly.
"I'm not drunk," you defend, and Joel chuckles.
"Really? Is that why you sat through an hour and a half of almost silence?"
You feel your breath stall in your throat for a second as you register that Joel had been watching you, and at least for the majority of the night for him to know this.
You purse your lips, shaking your head with a grudging smile. "He was boring. . . besides, I didn't do it for me, thank you very much, my friend was having a great time with his buddy!"
Joel nods with a hum. "You’re a good friend, then,”
His tone has a hint of teasing sarcasm to it, and it makes you raise your eyebrows in challenge. 
"Well what about you, then?" you counter, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he glances at you from the road for a second.
"What about me, sweetheart?" he inquires, and you snort, shaking your head as you look out of the window.
"I saw you turn down, like, four women," you say pointedly, before giving a sarcastic chuckle, "Not good enough for you?"
Joel just shrugs. "Nobody special,"
You let out a bark of laughter, looking back at him. "Joel Miller is picky, is he?"
Joel doesn't look at you, but you watch as he pursues his lips, corners of his mouth twitching into a smile as he shakes his head.
"Not picky," he says simply, and his eyes cross yours for another split second, before they go back to the road, "Just had my eye on something better,"
It feels like something kickstarts inside you at his words, and you try your best to keep your smile from growing as your eyes drift back to the road with a hum and a sarcastic nod.
Finally.
In no time, Joel is pulling into your familiar street, and your heart is beating a million miles per hour as he turns into his driveway, headlights illuminating his garage door. Your hands feel sweaty as he switches off the engine, and when the lights die and plunge you back into the darkness of the evening, you start to feel nervous. What if you'd been reading it wrong? What if you were about to try something that would end in a decidedly awkward situation and forever taint your trips home?
You watch as Joel starts to speak, and you panic.
"Do you mind if I come in for a sec?" you ask, and Joel's words die in his throat as you hastily add, "To get my cardigan. . . I kinda need it tomorrow,"
Joel closes his mouth, and you can't quite decipher his expression in the dark of the car, but you hear him let out a measured breath. "Sure,"
Before you know it you're standing on Joel's porch as he unlocks the door, and he motions for you to go first as the door swings inwards. The house is dark but still recognizable, and you don't even think twice as you take off your shoes, not quite decided on whether you do it out of pure habit or because you’re finding an excuse to stay. If Joel notices, he doesn't say anything about it, and as you walk deeper into the hallway, he points at the kitchen.
"Put your cardigan on the kitchen table," he lets you know, "Thought it would remind me to come over and drop it off, but uh–. . .  I ran out of time today,"
"That's okay," you say with a chuckle as you walk in the direction he's pointing, before stepping sideways into the kitchen. As you flick on the light, you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the hall before you hear the unmistakable creak of the couch as you assume he sits down, followed by a slight groan.
"You all right?" you call as you locate your cardigan, and you hear him hum.
"Glad to be home," he returns, "That bar gave me a headache,"
You stall in the kitchen door for a second, before you turn back on your heel and reach for a glass in the cabinet, filling it up at the tap with water. You take a deep breath, steeling the nerves bubbling in your stomach as your mind races with the thought of Joel sitting on the couch just past this room, legs undoubtedly spread and back leaning against the couch.
"The bar?" you ask, your voice humorous, "Or the beers?"
"Not usually a drinker," Joel says after a second as you switch off the tap, and make your way out of the kitchen with the glass in hand, your cardigan forgotten in the kitchen, "But Jerry kept buying em', and hell, saying no would just be bad manners, wouldn't it?"
You chuckle as you step past the threshold of the living room. Joel is sitting exactly as you imagined him, except his head is thrown back and his hand is pressed against his forehead as he lets out another heavy breath. You can just about see the rise of his bulge through his jeans when he's sitting like this, and the desire that overcomes you makes the nerves you'd felt earlier in your stomach disappear into a puff of smoke.
"And yet this is your first glass of water…getting behind the wheel after more than 3 beers?" you say in an almost chastising tone as you come around the couch. "How irresponsible of you, Mr. Miller,"
Hook.
From the corner of your eye you notice Joel's thigh clench under his jeans, foot digging into the carpet but not moving from the way he's sitting on the couch as his head moves, hand coming back down to rest on his thigh as his back straightens slightly. His eyes have moved to you, and you can feel them watching you as you put down the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch, standing straight. His gaze tracks you, so that when you're standing, Joel's eyes meet with yours, expression unreadable as you raise your eyebrows expectantly for an answer.
"Don't do that,"
His tone isn't easy to discern; the timber of his voice is a little deeper than it was a second ago, but you can hear the conflict between desire and restraint in his tone, which makes you bite back a smirk.
"Do what?" you return with a shrug, playing dumb, and you swear you see the color of Joel's eyes darken, and he clears his throat, pursing his lips.
"It's playing with fire," he warns you, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you take a step towards him, sitting on the couch, so that his head angles slightly to look at you as you get closer.
"Playing with fire," you muse jokingly, before you bend down ever so slowly, fingers going to close over an empty mug that had been left out on the small table destined for the lamp and remote. You have to bend slightly over Joel to do so, and your knee grazes his as you reach, Joel's eyes leaving your face for a second as they move over the curve of your back, and the rise of your ass, "What does that even mean?"
Line–
"It means you have to behave around me," he tells you, and for a minute you hear his usual stern tone bleed through the low and heavy pitch of his voice.
"I have to behave?" you ask, fingers leaving the mug on the table as your head moves to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Then, you move, leaning slightly over him, and Joel feels your leg move, knee coming to rest on the couch beside his thigh as your eyes never leave his, "I don't have to do anything, Joel. . . 'can do whatever I want,"
With that, you move again, leaning slightly on your knee and putting a gentle hand on Joel's shoulder in order to bring your other leg up onto the couch, so that you're straddling him, thighs over his and hands on his shoulders. It's risky, you know that, and at any moment you're half-expecting Joel to push you off of him, but he doesn't. He stays still, his eyes fixed on you.
"And what is it you want?" Joel asks, and his voice is raspy, almost breathless as he stays stiff beneath you, but you think you feel the tips of his fingers graze over your knee slightly. Your hand moves from his shoulder down his chest, nails digging slightly into the material of his shirt as you drag them down.
"I want you to touch me," you breathe, and your tone teeters on desperate, the pent-up frustration from all of this week coursing through your veins, "Please touch me, Joel,"  
–and sinker.
You can see it in the darkening of his eyes, the clench of his jaw; you know you've got him right where you want him.
"Sweetheart," Joel's voice is low, a barely controlled grumble that comes from deep down in his chest, teetering between warning and wanting as he feels your palm move over his chest lightly, "This is wrong,"
You look at him, eyes low and searching his as your nails dig into the material of his shirt. His words and the tone of his voice fuel a fire in your belly.
"I know," you whisper, and Joel can feel your breath tickle his lips, before you lean forward, lips brushing past his cheek as you lean down to whisper in his ear, "Tell me to stop. . . tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,"
Stop.
Joel wants to say it, but somehow, the words refuse to cross his lips as you take it a step further and rock your hips against him, and then he's had enough. His hands move suddenly, planting themselves on your hips firmly, fingers digging into your exposed skin as he holds you in place, stopping your movements suddenly. You pull back slightly, so that you're looking at him again, and for a second you can read it all in his eyes. They flash between lust and guilt, and for a minute there's nothing but silence filled with Joel's measured breaths.
And then, at last, Joel Miller gives in.
His lips are on yours in a second, hand moving to the back of your head to pull you in, his other arm snaking around your waist as he sits straighter and pulls you flush to him. It makes your hips move against the hardening bulge in his jeans, the sudden movement of your panties against him making you let out a small moan of surprise into his mouth as he pulls you impossibly close. Your sound is swallowed by his mouth, moving with a desperate fervor against yours, taking advantage of the parting of your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. He practically devours you as his palm covers almost the entirety of your lower back, the heat of his skin seeming to come through your dress. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in the curls of his hair as you try and grab as much of him as you can. 
It's messy, desperate, all clashing tongues and teeth as nearly two weeks' worth of tension comes to a head. You roll your hips again, this time slowly, and as you feel Joel's bulge grow underneath you, he pulls away from your lips to draw in a sharp, throaty breath.
"Fuck," he groans, eyes pressed shut for a second, before he tangles his fingers in your hair and uses them to pull your head back slightly, exposing your neck to him. Joel wastes no time running his lips over the edge of your jaw, kissing down into the crook of your neck and the column of your throat as his hand moves from your back to your shoulder, pulling down the flimsy strap of your dress. His hand moves with it, before tugging on the neckline of your dress. You let loose another moan at the action, his mouth kissing over your collarbone and moving to the side down the top of your now exposed breath.
You let out a strangled moan as Joel's lips close over your nipple, teeth grazing over the tip as he bears down on it, his hand cupping under your breast, fingers kneading into your skin.
"J–Joel," you stutter out as pleasure courses through your chest, your fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue draws illicit shapes over your nipple, before his mouth moves in hastened kisses back across the center of your chest, up your collar bone, until finally you feel his lips brush the bottom of your chin. The grip in your hair loosens, your head angled back down enough for his lips to meet yours in another searing kiss.
It's even more intense than the last, and it steals your breath, every move against his body like a shock, skin igniting with his wandering touches.
You mentally take note of how happy you are that you wore a dress tonight, because there’s nothing more than the thin material of your panties separating you, and you can feel Joel's bulge through his jeans. As Joel kisses you, his mouth slowly tracing kisses back down your jaw line, you reach for the button on his jeans, popping it, before your fingers move to the hem of his shirt. You tug, and Joel pulls away from you for a second to help you pull his shirt over his head, before he's kissing you again, your fingers undoing his fly.
It's one big rush, almost frantic, but for some reason, you can't wait any longer. Your fingers run under the hem of his underwear, while Joel's hand moves down between the two of you. Your body freezes suddenly as you feel the pads of Joel's fingers graze over your entrance. You had been so busy trying to get his pants off you hadn't even noticed him moving your panties to the side, but you can feel him as he pushes the tip of his thick, calloused middle finger inside of you.
You let out a stuttering gasp at the feeling, and you feel Joel smirk against your lips.
"Needy little thing, aren’t ya?" he whispers as he sinks the first knuckle between your folds.
Your only response is a whimpering sound as Joel pushes on, until finally his entire finger is buried in your pussy. Your eyes widen slightly at the feeling as your lips part in a breathy gasp.
"Fuck," you whisper out, and your eyes press shut and hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as your feel Joel's finger curl inside of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
"Feel good, baby?" he asks, his voice deep and velvety, his tone like music to your ears as you feel his other hand press firmly against the small of your back, keeping you close to him.
Joel clearly knows what he's doing, because in a mere manner of minutes he has you keening against him, a combination of expletives and his name falling over your lips in pleasured breaths. The heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every stroke of his finger, and the combination of the friction and the feeling of the pad of his index pushing inside of you as well almost sends you over the edge.
"Ah–. . . oh god, Joel," you stutter out, and you feel him smirk against your skin as he kisses down your neck back towards your breasts, recognizing the way your back stiffens and your thighs clench around his, your hips rolling over his hand desperately as he curls his fingers inside you again, working you open.
"Come on, sweetheart, I got you," he breathes against your chest, trailing your collarbone with his tongue, before his head dips, "Be a good girl and come all over these fingers, hm?"
With that, you feel Joel's mouth close over your nipple again, and your orgasm crashes through you. Joel does nothing to silence your sounds of pleasure as they echo through his living room, eyes pressed shut and brow furrowed as your head tips back slightly. Your chest heaves for breath as pleasure consumes you, your hips stuttering against his hand, and his head moves, eyes watching your face with a victorious expression, enjoying the sight of your blissed-out features. Eventually your moans become pants as your heartbeat starts to slow down, and you feel Joel kiss you again, your mouth opening to let him in willingly as you feel his fingers pull out of you, making you gasp slightly against his lips.
It takes a second for you to catch your breath, but not much longer, the weeks of lingering touches having filled you with so much anticipation neither of you can wait any longer to feel the other. You move off him for a split second to allow him to lift his hips so you can drag the waistline of his jeans down, Joel's lips leaving hungry kisses against yours. Neither of you bother pulling his pants down all the way, and as your hand wraps around the length of him, Joel lets out a stuttered gasp, fingers ghosting over the hem on your panties before moving them to the side again.  
You slowly lower yourself until you feel the tip of him press up against you, before your hips stall at the feeling, your mind seemingly registering only for the first time tonight how big Joel might be. He definitely feels bigger than you'd anticipated, and your hips freeze for a second at the thought. When you look back at Joel, his eyes are already on your face, analyzing every frown, every twitch of your features to gauge a change in your mood.
"You all right there, sweetheart?" he asks you, and his tone is so different from a second ago when he'd been talking you through your climax, so gentle, it throws you a little off guard, "You still want to keep going?"
You feel your chest warm at the question and the feel of his hands placed gently on your hips, dress bunched up to your waist as his hands caress the skin underneath with gentle strokes. A smile creeps up on your lips as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.
"Yes," you let out a whisper, before you move your hips down and the head of his cock pushes past your folds.
Your mouth parts as you sink down onto Joel, his fingers digging into your skin as you watch his eyes close and a frown furrow itself deep in his brow. He doesn't push you down, and lets you control the pace as you work yourself down his length, which feels impossibly thick, but you find yourself enjoying the slight burn of stretching around him.
Finally, with a final push down of your hips he's buried to the hilt. The guttural groan Joel lets out, as he throws his head back slightly against the couch, mingles with your own moan as you dig your nails into his shoulders.
"Holy shit," Joel rasps out, "S'tight, baby,"
You just let out a whimpering hum, barely coherent as you feel Joel's hips press against your ass, skin igniting where it touches against his. 
He brings his head back to look at you.You're a sight to behold like this, sitting in his lap, dress hiked up to your hips and flimsy straps halfway down your arm, exposing the tops of your breasts. Your eyes are shut, brow creased in effort and concentration, full lips parted in pleasure.
"There you go," Joel goads as you try and adjust to the feeling of being impossibly full, teeth biting down into your lip, "Knew you could do it,"
"Jesus, fuck, Joel," you stutter out, closing your eyes slightly as you feel him press his forehead against yours, perfectly still as he's buried into you as far as he can go, "You're so deep,"
"I know, sweetheart, I know" he coos, and you feel his hand run soothingly over the skin of your hip, "Is that what you've been thinking about every time you're over here, hm? How deep I'd feel inside of you?"
"Y–ye–. . . oh fuck, yes, Joel," you bring out as his hands gently roll your hips, making you whimper as you throw your head back slightly, eyes pressed shut, "Not just when I'm here. . . been thinking about it all week, Joel,"
"That so?" he hums, and you feel his lips leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck, "You been touching yourself thinking about me?"
The question makes your cheeks burn, and you open your eyes looking down at Joel. His eyes shift to yours as he looks up from where he's kissing your neck, a smirk spreading across his face as he catches sight of your embarrassed expression.
"Don't go shy on me now, baby," he tells you with a deep chuckle, before you feel him move your hips upwards slightly, pulling out halfway and waiting, "Been rather bold, haven't you. . . ? Bein' all flirty, pushin' up against me when you know I can't do anything about it. . . now, answer me,"
"Y­–yes," you bring out, and with that, Joel pushes down on your hips suddenly, burying himself to the hilt once more, eyes never leaving yours. You can't stop the loud, desperate moan that falls over your lips and echoes through the living room as he does, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure courses through your body, and Joel watches with a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
"That's bad, sweetheart," he says in a mockingly chastising, shaking his head, "Maybe you don't deserve it, then, hm? Maybe I'll just teach you a lesson instead,"
Joel's head dips again, one hand firmly on your hips, keeping you in place in his lap, the other moving up to cup your breast. His lips close over the sensitive skin of your nipple, you gasp slightly, before a moan builds in your chest. You try to move your hips, desperate to release some of the friction, to feel him thrust into you again, but Joel's hand is like a vice.
"No, baby," he rasps against your skin, before you feel his teeth nip at your nipple slightly, "You sit tight. . . don't get to move yet. . . not until I say so,"
You let out a plaintive whimper as you feel him flex inside of you, your walls fluttering around him desperately in anticipation.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you're squeezing me so tight," he groans, but still he doesn't move his hips, or let you move yours, lips resuming the onslaught on your breasts.
"Joel," you let out in a whine, and you feel him smirk against your skin.
"What is it darlin'?" he asks you, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, "Want me to move, hm? Why don't you beg for it?" 
Joel watches as your eyes open, and you use your hand, tangling it in his hair to move him off your breasts, angling his head slightly upwards, looking down into his eyes.
"I don't beg," you tell him, your voice hinting at authoritative, and you can see in his eyes that Joel likes that you're challenging him.
You feel his hand move from your chest down between you again, and you can't stop the sudden gasp that escapes you as you feel the pad of his thumb press down on your clit, rolling over it slowly.
"You do now," Joel says, raising a single eyebrow as he smirks at you, your eyes widening at the feeling of his finger drawing steady circles over your sensitive bud.
Fuck this, you think to yourself. You need Joel to move.
"P–please," you stutter out as Joel's finger speeds up, and his chest rumbles as he chuckles deeply.
"Please what, sweetheart?" Joel hums, and you give him a look, eyes flashing with slight frustration at his insistence, which makes him smirk wider, eyes knowing as he waits for you.
"Please move, Joel," you let out in a breath, "Please just fuck me,"
"Atta girl," he says finally, and then, Joel releases his grip on your hips.
It isn't gentle, and it isn't slow; your hips stutter, and he thrusts up to meet them as he pulls you down on him over and over again at a fast pace. Your brow creases as your eyes shut, arms wrapped around Joel's shoulders as you push yourself up and down his cock desperately, the feeling of him filling you repeatedly almost too good for words. Joel isn't holding back anymore, either, and both of his hands are on your hips, pulling you down onto him just as hard and as desperate as your own movements.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you let out in small breaths, "God, Joel,"  
The noises Joel is making under you are downright sinful. Deep throaty grunts with every thrust, like music to your ears, as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him as you move in a rhythm.
"Shit, baby. . . that's right," he mutters, before moving one of his hands to run over your cheek, fingers burying into the hair at the nape of your neck, face so close to yours he's practically grunting into your mouth, "Feels so fucking good. . . pussy s'made for me,"
"It's all for you, Joel," you bring out between moans as he pushes up into you, "Fuck, oh god,"
The feeling of Joel is beyond words; you feel every vein, every ridge as he slides in and out of you, tip repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you, that makes your vision spotty. You're almost ashamed to say it doesn't take long before you feel yourself getting close, and when Joel's thumb presses over your clit again, rolling in slow circles, you find yourself tipping over the edge again.
"That's right," Joel whispers against your lips and you moan into his mouth, legs shaking from your orgasm.
You know he isn't far behind you, either, by the way his thrusts are caught between speeding up and slowing down. His breath becomes shallower as his fingers dig into the flesh of your waist. As your walls flutter around him, you lean down, lips grazing from the corner of his mouth across his jaw and towards his ear.
"Come on, baby," you let out, your tone between breathy and sultry as you use the nickname he'd been using all night on you, "Want to feel you coming inside me, Joel,"
"Fuck, yeah?" Joel groans as he hears you let out another moan in his ear, your orgasm only just subsiding, "Fuck, shit. . . I'm coming,"
Your name falls over Joel's lips in a faltering breath as his hips stutter. His brow creases suddenly as his eyes press shut, before he buries his mouth against your shoulder, teeth nudging against your skin. His arms tightens around your naked chest as you feel him twitch against you, Joel's hips suddenly pressing against you so desperately he nudges something inside you that makes you whimper.
"Fuck–ah!" Joel lets out, followed by a whimpering groan against your ear as his teeth sink further into your shoulder, "Shit. . . sweetheart, ooh, fuck!"
He comes hard inside of you, no sounds filling your ears but his blissed out, whimpering moans for a second, which gradually turn into pants as his forehead comes down to rest on your shoulder, his breath against your skin.
Trying to compose yourself, you take your own regular breaths as your heart rate slows down. 
"Jesus," Joel whispers to himself as he looks up from your shoulder. Then he's facing you again, looking into your eyes as you chuckle slightly, still trying to catch your own breath.
"Good enough for you?" you joke as you raise an eyebrow, and Joel gives you a look, before his forehead falls against yours. 
"Sweetheart," he grumbles jokingly, his arms tightening around you as his eyes close and he lets out a contented breath, "I'm going to need you to do that like, 10 more times,"
You can't stop the small laugh that crosses your lips as you lean forwards and kiss him. When you pull away, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth, which makes him groan deep in his chest as you pull away with a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.
"I think I can do that," 
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writing this took it out of me, so reactions are sooo appreciated and feedback is more than welcome ღ k
a special shoutout is owed to @cutetomholland for her incredible help proofreading, so say thank you otherwise ya'll would be reading some straight shit teehee
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 13 days
Text
What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars
dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 9k words
summary: After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?
a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. as always, a list of things to watch out for:
nudes. mentions of masturbation. pet names used in an unholy way. the word 'brat' is dropped twice. safe sex (yess they still have a condom!!! i feel like i deserve a round of applause for not forgetting it). car sex, so a tiny smidge of exhibitionism. dom!jake. a lot of begging, as always. a tad bit dry humping. first finger sucking, then fingering. any more, uh....? i don't think so. there's not much space in a car for anything else.
top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist
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(the gif has nothing at all to do with the fic, but tell me that's not dbf!jake working out in his backyard knowing you're watching him istg)
It's a one time thing. That's what they told him. A one time thing.
He isn't supposed to do these anymore. He's supposed to be stationed permanently, sitting in his office and doing what an admiral does. Important work, surely. It's a high honour and he's proud, of course. But office work... Office work has never really been his thing. And if they'd deployed him for this mission four months earlier, he would've been thrilled.
He's the best of the best. The navy knows. He knows. Which is why he's an admiral by now. And also why they want him coaching the new hotshots for a month, halfway across the country.
And, yes, he would've been thrilled - four months ago.
Four months ago, when you'd not yet moved back home. Four months ago, when he hadn't yet met you. Four months ago, when he hadn't known what it was like to hold you, to touch you, to miss you.
His phone chimes and momentarily distracts him. It's not that he didn't mute it - he's standing in front of a bunch of twenty-something year olds who he does try to be a role model for - it's just that you'd tampered with it once and ever since then, you've had a personalised ringtone that still somehow works even when everything else is muted. (He could totally turn that off if he wanted to, though. Definitely. Ab-so-lu-tely. He just... doesn't.)
His jaw clenches and he has to restart his sentence, but other than that, he manages to pretend nothing happened. Nonetheless, he has to glare at the snickering wannabe-pilots in the first row, who remind him very much of a young version of himself.
You're three hours ahead of him and probably just got off work. It's likely nothing but a sweet "having a good day?" message or maybe a photo of you all dressed up, ready for dinner with your friends like you'd planned.
Either way, knowing your message is sitting unopened in your chat has him talking quicker. He finishes his lecture half an hour early and fishes his phone from his pocket before the first of his pupils have even got up from their seats - which turns out to be a horrible, horrible idea, because the photo attached to "don't know how long i'll stay out, have a nice night, admiral" with the winky face emoji is not one of you all dressed up for a night out with your friends, but one of you in just a pair of panties in front of the mirror. The mirror in his bedroom.
Fucking god-
He seems to let out some kind of choked up groan or something of the sort, because a few of his pilots turn to look back at him. One even has the audacity to ask if he's alright, which he certainly isn't. But that's absolutely not their problem.
So he grumbles something about how they should all use their free time to go to the gym instead of bothering him before he collects his things and flees to his room. One of the many advantages of being an admiral, of course, is that he doesn't have to bunk anymore, which is always the greatest nuisance for anybody who's ever looking for privacy. The times he's had to listen to guys jack off a foot away from him- fuck, the times they'd had to listen to him.
No, right now he is incredibly thankful for the privacy of his bedroom as he locks the door behind him and opens his phone again. Goddamn, why were you in his house? His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds, but then he decides against it - you're going out with friends for the first time in months, he doesn't want to bother you.
He's popping the button of his jeans and sitting down on his bed right as you come online.
"Like the pictures, baby? I've got more"
And before he can even respond, you've sent a bunch more selfies, half of them in front of his mirror, the other half on his bed and none of them decently clothed. Fucking hell, in one you've got your fingers down your panties and Jake is really thankful for the privacy of his room then because he groans so loudly that a bunkmate would definitely have heard.
"Are you still at dinner?", he asks, his fingers flying over his keyboard while he tugs at his zipper with his left hand.
"Yeah, won't be home soon", you write back. "Sorry"
"Don't be", Jake responds, as quickly as he can, because he definitely does not want to make you feel bad for spending time with your friends. "Have fun"
"Have fun with the pics", you send. Jake can picture your grin, sitting all dressed up in a restaurant and ignoring your friends to text him. "Thought those could maybe make up for no phone call tonight"
He swallows hard as you log off, leaving him with those pretty pictures of yours that certainly improve his night by a lot. Hell, he's already moving his briefs out of the way and clicking on your photos again. Just seeing you half-naked in his room - fuck, the thought of you sneaking over there only to do a goddamn photoshoot... You're really unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he can't wait to get back home to you.
...
"I miss you", you mumble into the phone, blinking at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It's eleven thirty, not nearly late enough for you to feel as exhausted as you do.
"I miss you too, darling", you hear Jake drawl on the other end of the call. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough", you whine - god, you sound pathetic and miserable to your own ears already, you must sound ten times worse to him. You let yourself fall back into your pillows and let out a deep sigh. "Would it be rude to say I hope the mission gets cancelled?"
Jake chuckles. Fucking hell, you miss that chuckle so much. You miss him so much. You miss cuddling up to him under the covers and tucking your head under his chin. You miss running your fingers through his hair and having your hands on him. You miss seeing him, standing in the kitchen or working out or tinkering in the backyard or fresh out of the shower. Shit, you even miss sneaking around with him, because at least then you'd gotten to watch him from a distance, maybe steal a kiss when your parents hadn't been looking or spend an night at his house pretending to be at your friend's.
Now he's halfway across the country and absolutely, completely out of reach. You'd barely gotten to see him at all - twice it had worked out to video-call during a lunch break, once he'd even managed to virtually show you around his office after work. The camera quality is hardly any good, of course, which means video-calls aren't all that great, plus the connection never seems to really be stable, so with a few exceptions, you've only seen Jake in pictures over the past two and a half weeks.
His deployment would take another one and a half and then, finally, he'd be back home. Back home with you.
"I won't answer that", Jake says, and you can almost hear him grin. "But I wouldn't mind either if they moved the mission up."
You have to bite down on your lip to hide a smile.
"So you think you're good to go?", you ask softly, not wanting to bring the mood down further, instead opting for the non-classified work questions. You've already been bringing down the mood enough back here at home - you don't need to fill the few minutes a day you get with Jake with your whining as well. Your parents already hear enough of that. Of course, they don't know why you've been in such a bad mood ever since Jake left. And they can't know, either. You can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.
You can't tell anyone because no one knows that you've been sneaking around with your dad's best friend for the past three months. So you resign yourself to moping around and keeping out of everybody's way as much as you can. For one and a half weeks more, one and a half...
...
Exactly one and a half week later you're standing at the airport in your best heels and a little yellow sundress and are positively buzzing with nervous energy. Jake's plane got in at half, he'd said, when you'd last spoken him six hours earlier. Then the plane had taken off and so had his wifi.
You're playing around with a strand of your hair and doing your hardest not to start chewing off your nails, which proves more difficult than you'd thought (even though you'd put on nail polish).
You're just so excited.
It's been a month since you'd last seen him. A month. And at the early stage of your... relationship, if you could call it that, that's basically half a year. God, how long it's been since you've run your hands through his hair, since you've felt his arms around you.
You miss him so much.
Your phone chimes and you fish it out of your pocket with trembling hands, only to be disappointed when it's not a message from Jake. It's not like you'd told him to text when he'd landed, just... A part of you is kind of scared you're waiting in the wrong place. Maybe he's on the other end of the airport - it's not a particularly small one. It'd take you hours to find each other if you were waiting in the wrong place.
Then again - maybe the plane is late. Maybe he's had to wait for his luggage.
You check the time, just to be safe. It's 11:46. For all you know, Jake is still in the air. Or less than a door away.
You bounce on your feet, nervously shifting back and forth before checking your phone again. The text you'd gotten is from one of your friends, who you text back only to distract you. It barely works anyway. You can't put it away again quickly enough.
It's not even that you don't want to distract yourself. You just physically can't pay attention. You've been a nervous wreck for the past three days, ever since you'd made the plan to pick him up from the airport. Which is probably why you almost don't spot him.
Almost.
He walks through the opened doors with his suitcase rolling behind him, his backpack slung over his shoulder and at least five other people rushing past him.
He sees you before you see him.
But then, then when you see him-
You're already sprinting towards him before your mind even tells your legs to move. You can't control it and you can't be bothered to. Why would you?
You don't care about the people glancing at you with raised eyebrows. You only care about Jake, about Jake who's standing there, pulling his hand from the handle of his suitcase and grinning at you. Grinning at you as you run at him and throw yourself into his arms.
He catches you effortlessly and steadies you as you cross your hands behind his neck and press your lips to his.
God, how you've missed him! How long you haven't kissed him!
His palms flatten against your back and he holds you tight, so tightly to him. You push even closer. He's here. He's back.
You don't realise you're crying until you taste the tears.
That's when Jake pulls back.
"I've missed you", he mutters, raising a hand and brushing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch and tighten your arms around his neck. You're really touching him. He's really here.
"I missed you too", you try to say, but you're choked up and crying and it somehow comes out a blubbering, stuttering mess that you're not quite sure Jake can even understand. "Missed you so much."
He smiles one of those gorgeous smiles that you haven't seen in far too long before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. His breath mingles with yours as he draws you in again and catches you in another kiss, tugging gently at your bottom lip as if he has all the time in the world to do it - slow and languid and real. Finally real again.
He pulls you in by your waist, his hands splayed wide and so, so big against your thin sundress. Your nails scratch against his neck and he lets out a groan and suddenly, he's got his hands on your thighs and you're wrapping your legs around his middle and tightening your arms around him and his lips are working against yours feverishly, heavily, messily. You're crossing your feet behind his back when one of them hits something hard. You've flinched away from him even before you can hear the dull crash of his suitcase kissing the airport floor.
There's blood rushing in your ears and you're sure if someone measured your heart rate right now, you'd be sent to the ER immediately. You probably look like a tomato with all the redness in your cheeks. But Jake stares at his suitcase silently for two seconds too, breathing heavily as his grip on you tightens further.
As much as he likes having you in his arms, his suitcase reminds him that you're still very much in the middle of a well-used airport. So he turns back to you and lowers his voice.
"I think we should get out of here, darling."
Your lips tug up into a grin and you lean in to give him just one last, quick kiss.
"Yeah", you breathe, carefully jumping back down onto your own feet. Jake lets go of you only reluctantly - if this wasn't a public airport, he'd never have let you go again. But it is, so he swallows hard as you brush your palms down your dress and blink up at him with a smile.
You're wearing heels. You're still shorter than him by quite a bit.
His amusement melts into a frown when you grab the handle of his suitcase.
"I've got that", he says, reaching his hand out to take the suitcase from you, but you're already maneuvering it away from him and starting to walk in the direction (you think it's the right direction) you'd parked your car in.
"I want to do it for you", you hum.
"Sweetheart, you're already doing enough for me", he says, and he really does mean it. You've driven all this way to come pick him up, you'd watered his plants while he'd been away, you'd even cleaned. That one mostly because you'd desperately needed something to do and Jake's house had always smelled like him, but still.
"Doing enough to you, you mean." Your grin borders on lewd as you dig your teeth into your lip.
"Yeah, that too", he sighs, but he has to grin as well. You're absolutely unbelievable. Instead of trying to argue (he knows it'd be fruitless anyway), he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your waist again.
You glance at him.
"I'm not letting go of this suitcase", you warn, even as you lean into his side and swallow. God, he looks so good. And he smells so good. And he feels so good.
"Got it", he chuckles, brushing a kiss to your temple and pulling you even closer into him. He can't have you close enough. Does this fucking airport not have an end? He just needs a little more privacy, a little more space-
"This way", you say and point right. Jake smiles at you as you guide him down the halls. He can't help but watch, can't help but stare at you, at your dress in that soft shade of yellow and your matching heels. Autumn doesn't seem to have caught up with you yet. Then again - autumn hasn't caught up with this place yet. And he's used to Texas heat, he likes that it doesn't get cold here. Also, those sundresses... Yeah, he certainly isn't complaining about the weather.
You speed up when you finally catch sight of the doors, dragging him along with you, almost falling into a jog. The suitcase rumbles against the airport floor, the wheels click-clacking over uneven ridges and bumps and then, thank god, you feel the sunshine on your skin. His hand tightens around your waist.
"Home sweet home", you grin as you take the first step onto concrete. You swivel around and steady both palms against the handle of his suitcase behind your back, bouncing on your heels and looking up at him. "After about a three hour drive."
Jake chuckles and looks back at you with raised eyebrows.
"You'll drive?", he asks. You hum.
"Maybe", you grin as you turn away again and walk over to your car, parked only three rows away for whatever holy reason. You'd been incredibly lucky. And you'd almost run over a grandma. "Or maybe not."
Jake follows you with another low chuckle that sends a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine. It's been so long since you heard that chuckle behind you.
He's next to you again within a few long strides, reaching out for you and you slow your steps to intertwine your fingers with his.
His hands are so big. He's holding onto you so firmly. Fuck, you've missed him so much.
You squeeze his hand and walk a little quicker. Car, home. Car, home. That's it. Then you've got him all to yourself. You can see the car glinting in the sunlight already - and then it's three hours. Three hours next to him in an enclosed space before you've truly got him back.
You stop and let go of his suitcase to fish the car keys out of your pocket without dropping his hand. You push the unlock button and open up the trunk before you turn to Jake and grin at him.
You want to say something, really. It's on the tip of your tongue, still running through your mind, but you've completely forgotten it when you look up at him.
Because while you'd been dragging him to the car, he'd pulled his sunglasses out and put them on and for whatever reason... That kind of does it for you. Holy shit.
"Are those new?", you ask hoarsely and swallow hard, the car keys digging into your palm as you tighten your fist around them. Maybe it's just that you haven't seen him in a month. Or maybe it's the way the sunlight catches his hair, slightly longer than when he'd left. Maybe it's just that with the sun behind him, you've got no choice but to squint at his broad shoulders.
"The other pair broke", Jake explains, letting go of your hand only to wrap his arms around your waist. Fuck, you're just standing there, doing absolutely nothing and he already can't keep from touching you. He has to touch you. He's got to put his arms around you and pull you close. "Why? Don't like it?"
You steady your palms against his chest and let out a breath as your eyes drop to his lips - he's got that cheeky look on his face that's not really a grin but not really not a grin and that nobody but him can do.
"I do", you counter, because it's the truth, and there's no way you can lie to him. "I very much do."
"Very much?" Jake does grin then, raises his eyebrows and pulls you fully against him. "That's more than just a yes."
Your fingers fist his shirt, the car keys digging into his chest just as firmly as they're digging into your palm now. He doesn't seem to be too bothered. He really isn't too bothered.
"They look good on you", you mutter, pulling him even closer. It's been too long since you'd pulled him close... And he feels so good, smells so good, looks so good. Fuck, he's so big and broad and-
"Thanks", he mutters, his grin all cheeky and self-assured and god, is it really this hot? Do you just feel this hot? Because you feel really, really hot. Your skin is burning. How the hell are you supposed to manage a three hour car ride?
"Jake", you whimper, without even meaning to. It's barely above a breath, barely above a whisper, and still too much of a whine to sound anything close to appropriate. A sort of grunt leaves his lips before his arms tighten around you, before he slots his mouth over yours hard. His thumbs drag circles against the small of your back, catching on the fabric of your dress. Your fingertips dig into his shirt, into his chest.
The sun beams down on you, warming your thighs and your arms and every exposed inch of skin, brightness behind closed eyelids as you push further and further into him. He's so sturdy, all hard abs right in front of you, broad arms around you.
You don't even notice the breathless moan that escapes your tongue. You can only feel the heat boiling inside of you, the desperate heat inside of you crawling up your body, every inch of you burning. Burning with want for him. With need for him. Fuck, he's been gone for way too long.
And then he pulls back.
You need a few seconds to even blink yourself back to reality.
"Home?", he suggests, even though it's less of a suggestion and more just a fact. He's getting you home. Now.
"Please", you whine, already halfway through pulling back and dropping the car keys into his palm. Three hours. Three fucking hours, you... You simply won't manage to sit down behind the steering wheel with your skin crawling and your underwear soaked through.
You'll barely manage sitting in the passenger seat.
Jake presses another kiss against your temple before he grabs his suitcase and leaves you standing there, trying to pull yourself together. He's breathing hard and his muscles are tight, his jaw clenched as he heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack into it right after.
You force your legs to work, to carry you to the passenger side, force your arm to raise and your hand to close around the handle. It's heavy and hard work. Your body feels leaden, entranced. You let yourself collapse onto the seat and close your eyes.
Fuck.
You'd forgotten how much... how easily...
"Seatbelt, darling", Jake reminds you as he climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts it. You swallow hard and strap yourself in, trying to even out your breathing and pull yourself back to reality while you fumble for the confirmative click.
"Three hours", you remind yourself breathily.
"Three hours", Jake agrees lowly and turns the key in the ignition.
You settle back in your seat and close your eyes, clenching and unclenching your jaw as the radio starts playing and the car rolls out of the parking lot. You just have to relax. Just relax. Relax.
So you breathe out deeply and open your eyes again. Jake glances over at you as you lean forward, flick through the radio channels and then adjust in your seat - it's touching too much, too little of your skin, and the way you're rubbing against it somehow doesn't help in the slightest.
Before you can tuck one of your legs under the other and press the heel of your foot against your core, Jake puts his hand against your thigh. Against your bare thigh. His big fucking hand against your bare thigh.
You bite down on your lip and look up at him.
God, he looks so good. His features are chiseled, his hair that sunny, beachy kind of blond-
"Stop that", Jake grunts, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. It takes you two seconds to even realise he's talking to you. You'd kind of lost yourself in staring at him there.
"Stop what?", you ask, voice hitching as his fingers tighten on your thigh. Damn it, he needs to stop that. He's hardly been driving five minutes, he can't already be teasing you.
For once, actually, he doesn't even mean to tease you - not that you know. He just can't help but touch you, not when he hasn't touched you in a month, not when you're sitting so deliciously, tauntingly next to him.
"Stop looking at me like that", he says, taking his hand off of you to change gears before grabbing even tighter onto you again. "Or I'll have to pull over."
You brush your fingers along his wrist. Your chest feels tight, so tight. It takes everything in you not to push his hand further up your thigh. And you'd actually thought you'd manage a three hour car ride.
"I'll stop", you breathe, even though pulling over doesn't seem like the worst idea. "If you want me to."
A muscle twitches in his jaw.
"Don't do that", he warns, his voice staggering into that indecent gruff of his that has you clenching your thighs together, trapping his fingertips between your legs.
"Don't do what?", you ask, trying your best to sound somewhat innocent while you continue this little taunting game, not as though you're deliberately riling him up. You aren't, really. It's more just a reflex.
He turns his head to you then. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched and honestly, the way he's meeting your gaze all serious, as though he's trying to reprimand you just by looking at you - for no more than five seconds, of course, before he drags his eyes back to the road - has your lips tugging up in a teasing grin.
"Jake", you whisper, drawing your nails slowly up his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. "Baby. You've been away for so long. You know how lonely I've been, right?"
Jake glances at you again and grunts his agreement, eyebrows raising as he starts to realise what you're doing.
"You can't blame me for looking at you", you go on, digging your fingertips into a spot right above his elbow and drawing one, two circles there. "Or for touching you."
Then you shift in your seat, spread your legs a little and run your fingers down his arm again. You grab his hand and brush his fingertips against the soaked spot on your panties.
"Or for being this wet", you whisper, your breath hitching from the sting in your stomach. He lets out a low curse. "I've just missed you so much."
He sucks in a breath then and trails his fingertips up your panties once, just once, before he jerks his hand back and clenches it hard around the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles turn wide. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! You're driving him crazy. You're driving him fucking crazy.
He's supposed to be responsible here. Somewhat responsible. You're young, you've got that risky twinkle in your eyes that he knows so well because he'd seen it in the mirror himself for over twenty years. He knows the thrilling buzz that's running through your veins. He still feels it whenever he's in the air. And he feels it around you.
Which is why he's not responsible, not when it comes to you. Not when you're sitting next to him in that pretty dress, with no shorts on and completely fucking soaked through.
You grin to yourself as he pulls off the highway and bite down on your lip, shifting in your seat once more, fighting the urge to trail your own fingers into your panties.
You haven't even asked how his deployment had been.
But goddamn, you'll have enough time to do that once you've got home. Or got off. Or got him off. At this point, you don't fucking care.
He pulls into one of those parking lots that mainly trucks use, one of those where there's hardly ever a toilet and if, then one that hasn't been usable since the last century. Right now, there's two trucks right at the front that Jake just brushes past. He parks your car at the far end and turns the motor off.
The silence is heavy.
Your breath comes much too quickly. Your eyes are fixed on him. And every inch of your skin is crawling with heat. But you don't move. You can't move.
He rolls his seat all the way back.
"Jake-", you whisper, catching on his name when he looks up and meets your eyes. There's a ghost of a grin on his lips, but... Maybe you're wrong.
"Yes, darling?", he asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. You have to strain your neck to keep looking at him. Instead of an answer, you just softly shake your head. You're suddenly unsure of what to say. His eyes weigh you down. You're painfully aware of every inch of your skin under his watchful gaze.
"Come on", he drawls, the grin that's growing on his lips more obvious now. "You were all eager to talk just then, baby."
Your teeth catch on your lip as you let out a breathless sigh. Your fingers hover over the buckle of your seat belt. Can you? Or...
"I missed you", you whisper, letting your fingertips glide over the hard plastic. "Can I-"
You swallow.
"Can you what, darling?", he repeats, grinning widely now.
You chew on your lip as you push down and unbuckle yourself slowly, your eyes still trained on Jake, who simply watches you with raised eyebrows.
"Can I touch you?", you whisper, your breath disappearing into the thick air of the car, the seatbelt still caught between your fingers. The corners of his mouth only tug up further.
You look angelic with your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, so obviously desperate to feel him - but still you don't move. You sit there and wait for him to tell you what to do. To allow you to do something. Anything. It's almost endearing how well behaved you are in moments like this.
"Go on, darling", he drawls. "Come here."
Without hesitation, you reach over the centre console and grab onto his shoulders, steadying yourself against him as you throw one of your legs over his and climb into his lap. His hands find your waist, grab onto your sides, hold you softly against him. Your teeth dig into your lip as you sink down, your fingers trailing along the outline of his collarbones over his shirt, your dress riding up and pooling around your hips. You suck in a breath when your panties drag against his jeans.
Fuck. It's been so long. It's been way too long.
"Jake", you mutter as you lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, brushing your nose against his cheek. "You look good."
He lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on you tightening.
"I know, darling", he can't help but say with a grin. "Thanks."
You giggle onto his skin as you trail your lips down his jaw. Sometimes he's incredibly unbelievable. I know. How cocky. Not that he shouldn't be - goddamn, he should be! You can't even fault him. And confidence is sexy. Especially on him. Though, then again, anything on him is sexy.
"I've missed you", you mutter, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against his skin, this time against the spot between his neck and his ear. "Missed looking at you. Missed touching you."
"Yeah", Jake breathes, digging his hands into your hips and pulling you harder onto him. "I've missed you too."
He's missed you so fucking much that he's hurting, straining against his jeans so hard that he feels like he might combust. And you're kissing down his throat, pressing your lips against his skin, wanting, needing to touch him, to feel him-
A month away from each other. A month too long.
"I need you, Jake", you whimper into his ear, all breathy and desperate, rocking softly back and forth in his lap and letting your eyes fall shut.
"You need me, baby?", he echoes, grabbing you as tightly as he can and dragging you against him, his head thumping back against the driver's seat.
A filthy moan slips past your lips as your hips roll against his, finally, for the first time in weeks. Fuck, yes, you need him so badly. You need him now. Here and now, in the passenger seat of your car.
"Please, Jake", you breathe, steadying one palm against his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug it off of you, but before you can drag it down to your panties again, drop it between your legs and beg him to fuck you, before you can do any of that, he's turning your grip around and taking your hands in his instead.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, baby", he chuckles, before settling your hands against your thighs. He's painfully hard by now, yes- But that doesn't mean you can just drag him to where you want him. "Seems like you forgot your manners."
You're already shaking your head before he can finish. No, you haven't, you haven't, you just need him so badly... and you can feel him, you can feel that he needs you too, so why doesn't he just take you? Why doesn't he-
"I haven't, Jake, I promise", you whisper, looking at him and forcing yourself to still on his lap. It won't help you if you move. It definitely won't help you if you move.
"You haven't?", he asks with raised eyebrows, looking all but amused at you. You keep shaking your head no, no, no. "So if I'd told you to stay in your seat and wait, you would've?"
You bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. He's grinning. He knows. He's not even really asking. But if you'd learnt anything, anything at all about him, it's that he doesn't like to be ignored. If he asks a question, he wants it answered. So you'll answer.
"No", you breathe truthfully, because you most definitely wouldn't have managed a three hour car ride next to him. There's no way you would've managed a three hour car ride next to him. No fucking way.
His grin widens.
"No", he repeats lowly. "No, darling? You wouldn't have listened?"
"Couldn't", you correct, fighting the desire to rock against his thighs that's growing with every passing second. He looks so fucking good. He smells so fucking good. He feels so fucking good. And he'd fuck you so good, you know that, if he'd just finally get to it.
"Couldn't", he echoes, his fingertips rubbing circles onto the bare skin of your thighs. "That desperate."
It's just that he's that desperate, too. Desperate to feel you wrapped around him, desperate to hear you whimper and moan. He needs you as much as you need him.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?", he asks, all smooth and casual and your fingers dig into your thighs to feel something, anything. It's unbelievable how easily something so dirty slips off his lips.
"Yes", you gasp. "Want you so bad, Jake. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll be perfect."
A muscle ticks in his jaw.
"You are perfect", he breathes, even though that hadn't been his plan at all. But he has to say it. He has to tell you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, even if you don't know. And he's not all that sure you don't know anyway.
Your teeth catch on your lip, your hands dig harder into your skin and-
And Jake's thumbs trail along the inside of your bare thighs, brushing up naked skin, drawing a shallow breath from your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you clench your legs around his and force yourself to keep still. He's touching you. You have to remind yourself of that. He is touching you. There's no reason at all for the urge to defy him, to pop open his jeans and just sink down on him. He's touching you, he's touching you...
Yeah. Barely.
"Let me feel you", you beg, drawing your hands away from your thighs and trying to put them against his chest - but before you can, he's pulled his hands away from your thighs as well and grabbed your wrists. Again.
"You're not in charge here, darling", he chuckles, pushing your hands back down. He grabs for your waist again. "If you can't behave, I'm gonna put you back in the passenger seat and keep on driving, got that?"
You nod.
You want to be good for him. You will be good for him. God, there's no fucking way you could have managed the car ride already, and if you had to sit through it now, after this- No. You'll be good for him. You'll be so good for him.
He flashes you a grin and goes back to dragging his thumbs along your thighs.
"Ask nicely", he says. "Maybe I'll-"
"Please", you blurt out, your hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"
His eyes drop down to your mouth then.
"Yeah, baby", he mutters, his thumbs catching on the hem of your dress. "You can kiss me."
He expects you to jump at him, to slot your lips over his and lick into his mouth eagerly - but you only steady your palms carefully against his chest and lean in, your eyes focused on his, your breath meeting his skin. You kiss him softly, lightly, with your lips just so grazing his and your eyes fluttering shut. His fingertips run down the soaked spot on your panties.
That's when your teeth catch on his lip. You sink them into his skin gently and tug, your heart missing a beat as he groans into you. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them to the side just like you'd hoped, just like you'd begged for.
Jake's right - you're not in charge. But that doesn't mean you don't know what buttons to push to get what you want.
His fingertips trail through your wetness for the first time in a whole fucking month. It's long overdue. So long.
You moan into him, pressing your chest right up against his and fisting his shirt, and push closer. You need to be this close. You need to be even closer. You need him to fuck you, now, not only to drag his fingers up to your clit.
But he's too focused on you, getting too drunk on the feeling of you. He's finally got you here again, finally on his lap again, finally kissing him again, finally eager for him again. He's finally touching you again. And he has to touch you.
You're so fucking wet. You're soaked. He wants to take his time to notice that. He needs to take his time to notice that. He needs to touch you, to feel you. He doesn't even mean to tease you. He doesn't even realise he is teasing you. Not until you rock into his hand and let a whine slip into his mouth.
You really don't intend to. It's an accident. You don't want to rush him. What you want is to be good for him. But you can't help yourself.
And he knows you can't.
Which is the only reason he doesn't pull back and leave you high and dry. Well, that - and his desperation to have you.
So instead, he pushes two fingers into you and catches the languid moan you let out. Fuck. You sound so sweet. You feel so perfect. It's been so fucking long.
"Jake", you whimper, just because it's also been that fucking long since you've whined his name into his mouth. Into the low-quality mic of your phone, yes. But with his lips on yours? With his fingers thrusting inside you so precisely, hitting the right spot immediately? No, that's been too fucking long.
It's dirty. Not quick, like the other times neither of you had been patient enough to look for a better spot to have each other and had opted for the car instead. No, it's just dirty, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue running along yours and your knees rubbing against the seat.
Maybe it's because the radio had turned off alongside the car, or maybe it's just the long month you'd spent apart - either way, all sounds are louder than they should be, your ears ringing with your moans, your wetness around his fingers and his lips against yours.
Goddamn.
He's working magic. You don't know how he hits the right spot again and again and again, his fingers curling, his thumb catching on your clit - but he has you clenching around him, warmth pooling in your core, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his jeans within minutes.
You pull an inch away from him, your eyes still squeezed shut, your palms flattening against his shirt, and the only reason he knows he isn't just dreaming of you again is because you're warm and wet around his fingers. Everything else about you is unreal.
You're gorgeous. You're so damn stunning, rocking your hips back against him and moaning his name, your lips parted and your skin sweaty.
"Fuck", you pant, your chest rising and falling so tantalisingly that his eyes drop right down to your cleavage. "Just like that."
He has to grin to himself, but he lets it slide, if only because you're looking so pretty holding onto him as he pushes his fingers into you and circles your clit - just like that. Again and again, until you're digging your nails into his chest and catching your lip between your teeth and moaning his name, Jake, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, until you're clenching around him and shuddering in his arms, until you're reaching your high on his fingers, not on your own for the first time in four full weeks.
"Attagirl", he mutters, straining so hard against his pants that it hurts. "I've got you."
You press your lips against his jaw sloppily as you come down, your breath shallow, your skin burning, just needing to get your mouth on him. You can feel your heart beating, every thud, thud, thud against your chest. God. You hadn't come like that in a month. You'd come, sure, to the low rumble of his voice over the phone, calling you all sorts of sweet names and telling you just how to get off for him. But nothing could ever possibly beat the way he works you.
And still - even as you come down from your orgasm, you already crave the next, long and lust and hunger for him inside of you, not his fingers, but his cock.
"Jake", you mewl, slotting your lips over his and desperately dragging your tongue over them before you draw back an inch, your breath meeting his. "Fuck me? Please?"
He pulls his fingers out of you and raises his hand and before you can even really realise what you're doing, you're parting your lips and watching as he grins and presses his fingertips down on your tongue. God, he fucking tastes like you. You suck his fingers into your mouth obediently and lick them clean, looking at him out of lowered, half-lidded eyes and he fucking grabs at your waist with his other hand like his life depends on it.
Goddamn, it's been too long since he's watched this. Since he's had this sight in front of him. And holy mother of hell, what a sight that is.
Your cheeks hollowed out, your gaze caught on his, your lips wrapped around his fingers. His jeans are too tight. Too fucking tight. He needs relief. Now.
So he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a low grunt and fumbles with the button of his jeans, quick and hurried. He's barely popped it open before your hands slip between his and push them out of the way. You drag down his zipper, reach into his briefs, finally, finally, finally! and he lets you, steadying his palms against your thighs and watching you tug your lip between your teeth.
"Condom", you breathe, then you glance up at him and blink - once, twice, thrice to get yourself back to reality. Condom. Condom, fuck, you're sure you've got one, you know you've got one, somewhere-
Jake takes his hand off your thigh and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a condom before you've even finished thinking.
You grab it from him almost reflexively, your fingers closing around it, tearing it open - quick and frenzied now, because you're not sure how much longer you can hold out. How much longer you can manage without having him.
You glance up at him before you roll it onto him, waiting, checking, if you can, if he'll let you- And how could he not? Fuck, he's got to clench his jaw and grab onto your waist just to hold back, to stay still. He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He'd meant to fuck you back at home, slow and steady, preferably in bed where he could really see you, where he could see every inch of you, not in the front seat of your car that he'd probably have to get cleaned tomorrow. But he can't fucking help himself. He can barely fucking wait until you've rolled the condom onto him, already grabbing at your bare thighs, slipping his hands below your dress, grasping at your stomach.
You steady your palms against his chest and breathe out a whine as his fingers slide across your boobs, pushing the fabric of your dress up, up, up, circling your nipples, hardened and sensitive and damn, you've missed him. You've missed him so fucking much. It's been so fucking long. And you're so fucking desperate.
So you slowly sink down on him and let out a moan, rolling off your tongue so filthily he has to groan. Shit, shit- You hold yourself against him, drop your head against his shoulder and an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin.
"Fuck", he grunts, his fingers working frenzied circles onto your boobs, trying, desperately, no, needing to touch you, to feel you. God, you feel so good around him. Finally around him again. You take your time sinking down on him, catching your breath and pressing your lips against his neck, your eyes squeezed shut. Inch by inch, you take him - and the only way he can keep from bucking up into you is by trying not to concentrate on the way you feel around him (so, so fucking perfect), but instead do his best to breathe. Just... breathe. It's been too fucking long. And you're too fucking pretty. And he'll go fucking crazy.
"Jake", you mewl, your lips dragging against his jaw.
Instead of an answer, he turns his head and catches you in a kiss.
You whine into his mouth, your legs clamping around his, stilling as you adjust, your tongue running along his lips, his teeth, your hands fisting his shirt, clenching and cramping and pressing against his chest.
"Go on", he urges, pulling away no more than an inch, his breath shallow, mingling with yours. "Take what you want, darling."
"Fuck", you breathe, arching into his palms and steadying yourself against him, your teeth catching on your lip as you move - up, slowly, steadily, then down, faster, quicker, and again, and again. Holy hell. Moan after moan rolls off your tongue. He feels so fucking good. You're so fucking full of him. You find a rhythm, then that spot inside of you. Your head tilts back, your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt, your nails scratch against his skin.
He watches you, every inch of him tensing. You're gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, bouncing in his lap like this. You're stunning, your dress pooling around your hips as he drags his hands back down to your waist, thumbing at your stomach, circling and drawing against your skin. He's touching you. Now, here. It's not just a dream. It's not just his imagination. It's you, you, wrapped around him, moving up and down him, your palms against his chest, your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth digging into your lip.
"Just like that, keep going", he encourages, all low and deep, smooths his hands down your body and can't help but grin as you let out a soft mewl. It's been so long since he's heard you whine for him - so long since he's heard it without hundreds and hundres of miles between you, without the microphone ruining what have to be the sweetest sounds he's ever known. "Feeling good, baby?"
The air is heavy, heavy and sticky. It presses down on you, pushes against your skin, settles on your body and flattens your breath. Every single one of your nerve ends is on fire.
"Yes", you gasp, your eyes fluttering open to take him in, him in all of his very, very real glory right in front of you. He looks so handsome, so fucking handsome. Your thighs tighten, clench. You can feel yourself growing closer and closer and closer with every stroke, with every time you sink down on him. Fuck, he doesn't just feel good, he feels heavenly. He feels like everything you need. "So good, Jake."
The grin on his lips sends sparks through your body. It's confident, self-assured... Yeah, you're on top of him, you're moving, you're taking what you want - but he's in charge, you can see it in his eyes. He's in control. It's in the way he breathes, in the way his hands grab at your hips, in the way he palms at your skin. If it weren't for the red on his cheeks, for the sweat beading on his forehead, you wouldn't even have guessed he's all that affected. But he's hard, he's hard as a rock, and it's taking everything in him not to just buck up into you and come right on the spot.
He prides himself on his stamina. In all his years, he's always prided himself on his stamina - on how he can keep going long enough to make you come twice, thrice. And he'll hold out now, too.
But you're gorgeous. And you feel perfect. And you're close, you're clenching around him as you lean in to press your lips to his, to slot your mouths together and kiss him with all your might.
So you're not making it easy for him. Not at all.
He brushes his hand down to the inside of your thigh, leaves a trail of tingles on your skin before his finger finds your clit. You breathe out a whine that he easily catches on his tongue, your nails digging into his chest as he draws circles on your clit, on that sensitive bundle of nerves that has you melting, your eyes squeezing, squeezing, squeezing shut.
Fuck, fuck, you're close, you're close-
Just for a fleeting second, Jake debates pulling his hand away again and leaving you there, on this edge you're teetering on. Not forever, only until you'd got home or so. But he's too desperate to come, too wound up already, too close himself, and there's a much bigger part of him that wants to just fill you up in the driver's seat of your car, in this random parking lot, a month after he'd last had you. The part of him that will revel in knowing that you'll be sitting in the passenger seat for the next three hours with soaked panties, probably leaving behind a wet patch when you'll get out, the evidence of two orgasms right there-
"Fuck, Jake", you gasp and your head rolls back, your lips parting as your entire body clenches, every single muscle cramping and tightening at once, your nails digging hard and harder into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut. His finger on your clit doesn't still, just keeps drawing circles, keeps guiding you through your high, through the foggy haze you're swimming in as your body writhes and tingles.
Jake is too entranced, too enamoured, too captivated by you to even realise he's spilling inside the condom, coming as you do. He can't feel, can't see, can't touch anything but you - his hand grabs at your hip, it palms at your thigh. Anything to feel you. Anything to be with you as you unravel.
"Jake, fuck", you breathe, a lot more softly now. Your grip on him loosens. He'd barely noticed how your nails had still been digging into his chest, but now that you're pulling them away, stretching your fingers and steadying your palms flat against him, he can't help but miss them. You blink at him with the sweetest smile, your lips plush and kiss-swollen, and the view of you is so disarming that he can just so resist opening his mouth and letting those final three words roll off his tongue. But it's too early, it's way too early, even as you're sitting in his lap, even as you're squeezing his cock, even as he draws his finger away from your clit. He's never been the type to say it early. He won't now.
No, instead he raises his hand and rests his fingers against your lips. Once more today, you part them obediently and wait until he's pushed them onto your tongue. Then you close your mouth around them - he still tastes of you faintly - and suck, slathering them in saliva in that sloppy, messy, dirty way you know he likes, your head bobbing as you clean them off. You pull back just far enough to dig your teeth into his fingertips and bite down on them playfully.
Your lips tug into a grin as he draws his hand back, eyebrows raising, his gaze settling on you - still so very heavy, so intense, so fucking full of sex.
"You're a brat, darling", he chides, but he's already brushing strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ears and then wrapping his arms around you to pull you even closer, even tighter to him. Your grin only grows as your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt.
"Maybe", you laugh breathily, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that's so addicting he thinks he might need to stay in this car, in this parking lot for the rest of eternity. "But you love it."
Jake chuckles as he chases after your lips.
"Such a brat."
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thekitsunesiren · 11 months
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Dc x Dp Prompt #29
Okay! I have seen plenty of prompts on both tumblr and Ao3 to think of one of biggest misunderstandings that I could think of for Dc x Dp.
Amity Park being mistaken for a base camp for training child soldiers.
Because think of it!
Mr. Lancer's class all going to Gotham and being unphased by everything that was happening. In fact, some of them seemed even excited at the possibility of interacting with a rogue or possibly fighting them. And teacher did nothing but give them light warnings about causing too much trouble.
Of course it was thought to be big talk from outsiders who didn't know how dangerous Gotham truly was. Once they dealt with their first villain, they'd see how much trouble they really were in for.
But the thing was, they didn't.
Oh, they dealt with a criminal alright. It was the Penguin. He held up one of the museums the class was touring for some priceless item that he wanted.
Of course, Penguin thought that the group of newcomers were going to cow under the sight of the criminal and his goons. But standing there, he immediately found out of wrong he was.
The group didn't look scared. No. They looked excited at the sight of him and his goons.
A few of the teens were brimming with excitement at the sight of the criminal, though a few did look a bit disappointed. Not afraid-disappointed! He heard a few whispers of how upset that "the Joker wasn't the one to show" or "how they expected someone else to show up". Those words were enough to make his blood boil.
You know what? Screw these kids! He was going to show them that The Penguin wasn't someone you just go around and make fun of. So, he orders a few goons to put the kids in their place. Confident that once they were thrown around a bit, they'd know what kind of trouble they're in for when they come to Gotham.
But they. Don't. Get. Scared!
Not even a little bit. Not even a small flinch. He swore that he saw a few of them yawn! If the threat of roughening up wasn't going to do anything, then some action would definitely was. A goon thought this as they reached out to try and grab one of the students. Unfortunately, that student he grabbed was Valerie Gray, and she didn't take well to some stranger trying to grab her like that. Well, one shoulder throw lead to a brawl between gangsters and a bunch a teens that were touring around. And, to the horror of both the Penguin and all Gothamites watching, the teens won. All goons were seen on the floor either groaning or unconscious, the teens above them looking satisfied with their work, and their teacher on the sidelines looking irritated of the whole thing. Thankfully, the police arrived not too soon after that to arrest the goons and the penguins themselves; leaving all Gothamites confused about what just happened.
And it didn't stop there.
All over Gotham, both civilians and rogues alike would experience the oddity that would be the Amity bunch.
A barista witnessed Paulina stop a robbery with a well practiced kick in her high heels, all while the girl muttered about her morning coffee before going back to her order like nothing happened.
An old woman was saved from a mugging by a group of jocks. Though seeing as one stopped it by grabbing the mugger by the scruff of his neck, she supposed that the blond was the only one that she needed. And multiple civilians all over Gotham took note of a black haired and blue eyed kid that walked around with a goth girl and a boy with a red beanie. If he wasn't mistaken as a Wayne kid, he was causing havoc that had him on the news either way. Already the kid was caught fighting the Joker twice on purpose! As if he didn't seem crazy enough.
Strength, not scared by any of the rogues, even openly fighting the rouges? This class was continuing to grow on the "do not mess with" the longer they're in Gotham with everything they do.
And if you were to ask their teacher, he would simply sigh and say "There's so much he could do to control those hellions." It wasn't long before the Wayne family caught onto their arrival, and became immediately suspicious. A group of teens with abilities like that and fighting both rogues and goons as if they were nothing wasn't a mere coincidence. And from a place called Amity Park that's supposed to be the most "Haunted Place on Earth", there's no way something fishy going on.
Bruce, Tim, and Damian are the first to believe that they are all child soldiers of some sort. The youngest pointing out that Danny was one possibly meant to infiltrate their family for an unknown reason. The rest of the family are still cautious, but still don't know what they are here for.
Now they just had to get close enough to find out the reason the class was really here without setting off any alarms the possible assassins could have.
But they didn't take account the total weirdness they might face in infiltrating the class.
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fictionalwh0ree · 8 months
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the gang dating a stoner hcs
warnings: mentions weed and alcohol
a/n: as someone who's a lowkey stoner, i wrote this with the reader being someone who doesn't look like they'd be a stoner.
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johnny cade
definitely doesn’t mind that you smoke
he’s maybe tried it once but never enough that he felt anything
one day he tries it with you
he immediately understands why you do it
johnny has a lot of issues and has a lot of baggage, smoking weed helps him calm down
you’re happy that it makes him happy
but that can also be dangerous
you worry about him getting hooked to the feeling, so you make sure he only ever does it with you
thankfully its illegal and since johnny is kind of skittish, he doesn’t go after it on his own
smoking with him is a mix of calm and paranoia
hes paranoid while you’re smoking
worrying about the smell, who’s around, your eyes, etc
but once its done, he’s calm
you spend many late nights just dozing off in each others arms after smoking
also many deep talks
overall, he’s grateful for you (and it) and he accepts your habits
dallas winston
he LOVES that you’re lowkey a stoner
there’s something about how you look when your eyes are all droopy and red that turns him onnnnn
(he also finds you being able to roll hot, idk why)
he definitely does it here and there
but he loves to smoke with you
on a rare night, you two will get crossed at bucks and will probably end up fucking
high sex is his favvvvv
he’ll take you to the drive-in after you smoke
those are probably the only times you’ll pay attention to a movie around him
he’s very rebellious so he doesn’t worry about you getting caught very often
he’ll even steal snacks for you
he lets you crash in his bed if you’re super slumped
you love cuddling with him if you’re high
something about the warmth and skin to skin just feels so much better
he definitely finds it funny when you’re high
he’ll laugh about you demolishing your food
he definitely laughs when you start sharing your high thoughts with him
and he finds it especially funny when you find something funny and can’t stop laughing
you’ve definitely been caught in some dumb ass situations where you look at each other and have to find a way to hold in the laughter
ponyboy curtis
definitely has never smoked
he knows its illegal, so he was definitely surprised to find out you do it
at first, you kept it separate from him
you know his brother would kill him if he tried
you didn’t smoke around him and were never really high around him
until one time you were headed home after a smoke session with your friends and you ran into him
he invited you to the drive- in with the gang
steve and dally could definitely tell
ponyboy could tell something was off but couldn’t pinpoint it
he bought you a popcorn and you couldn’t shut up about how much better it tasted
“has this popcorn always been this good?”
“it doesn’t taste any different than the last time we had it”
“are you sure?”
“are you okay”
dally definitely broke the news to him and it hit him quick
after that, pony started asking you questions about weed
“what does it feel like to be high?”
“does food actually taste better?”
“does it taste like a cigarette?”
you asked him if he wanted to try it one day so you waited until a day where his house was completely empty and smoked
after one hit, he was coughing like crazy
no amount of cigarettes could’ve prepared him for that
he couldn’t smoke very much because of the coughing but he got high and finally understood the food thing
tore apart any food available
he really loves to watch the sunset when he’s high
he thinks the colours and scenery are so much more detailed and pretty
he’s the type to turn into a poet when he’s high
but in the end the coughing was not worth it so he only does it very rarely (and only with you)
its a very special occasion when pony smokes, so you always make sure its a good experience and you do everything so darry will never find out
sodapop curtis
he’s definitely tried it before
he was not a fan
(he wasn’t inhaling it right so he never felt it and thought it was pointless)
he was very surprised when he found out you smoked
he always makes sure you’re careful with it
he takes extra care of you when you’re high
he makes sure you don’t have to talk to anyone
will take you to go get whatever you’re craving
he’s also a fan of the high eyes
he thinks its cute when you laugh at dumb things you wouldn’t usually find that funny
he’s very observant so he can definitely tell when you’re high and even if you’ve smoked at all
you taught him how to inhale
unfortunately he’s a bit of a paranoid high person so you don’t smoke with him
he always feels his senses heightened
this boy will hear a cop car coming from five blocks away and then panic as if you’re not sitting inside his house
however he is the type to EAT when he’s high
he’s like a bottomless pit
but hes also sodapop curtis so he’ll stay skinny anyway
darry curtis
darry definitely tried weed in high school
i mean he was on the football team
but he’s not a fan
too much risk not enough reward
so when it comes to dating a stoner
he’d probably rather not
but if he is
you just have to keep it separate
you don’t smoke around him and you’re never really high around him
he doesn’t mind the habit as long as you don’t let it affect your ambition
darry is a workaholic, he looks for a partner with drive
so as long as you smoking weed isn’t interfering with your job its fine
he would never date someone who is always high
he’s okay with it if its more of a couple days a week type thing
once you’ve been dating a while, he makes it clear that you can smoke and be high around him
because he’d rather you do it around him then alone or out on the streets
he thinks its cute when you’re high
he likes how you’re giggly
he’ll cook for you
and he likes how affectionate you get
he smoked with you ONCE
he, like sodapop, is the type to eat like there’s no tomorrow
after it was done, the entire gang unexpectedly showed up at his house
they could tell
darry’s eyes were practically bloodshot red
ponyboy took advantage of calm darry and got to stay out late
“get him high more often y/n”
they tried to keep their laughs to themselves but it didn’t work
two-bit especially could not contain himself around darry and couldn’t look at him without laughing
you definitely fucked after and the high sex was almost enough to get him to smoke again
but he could never EVER let the gang see him like that again
he only got high with you again after you learnt how to make edibles
two-bit matthews
two-bit loves that you smoked
funniest couple ever
you love smoking with and around him because he makes you laugh so hard
funny sober = super funny high
you two will laugh until you’re clutching your stomachs in pain
he’ll finish a whole chocolate cake high
two-bit is not a sit down and relax type of high person
there’s two potential reasons
a) he’s just like that
b) he’s always a little drunk so he just ends up slightly crossed
he’s super social and bounces off the walls
so sometimes you have to let him just go out with his friends
once he comes down from it all he’s super tired
you guys WILL take naps together
you’ll sleep from 11am-4pm
or you’ll go to bed at 2am and wake up at 1pm
it all depends but the two of you are heavy ass sleepers after smoking
the house could’ve blown up and neither of you would notice
steve randle
he has also tried smoking before, but never too much
he had basically forgotten it existed until you
he doesn’t like it when you smoke alone so if you’re not with friends, sometimes he’ll smoke with you
it actually helps him focus a lot
if he can work on a car high, he will
it becomes the only thing that matters
gets you dx discounts on snacks
he’s pretty quiet high so the two of you will often spend your time watching a move with his arm around your shoulder
he’s lowkey strict with it because he doesn’t want you to get caught
so he doesn’t let you smoke in very public places or in broad daylight unless you’re somewhere safe
doesn’t let you meet your dealer alone
he’s protective of you when you’re high because he thinks it makes you a bit more vulnerable
he’ll do all the talking
he doesn’t like people who spend their entire day high
he’s okay with it as long as you’re not a bum because of it
707 notes · View notes
avatar-anna · 10 months
Text
Rumors
so...i've had this concept rattling around in my brain, but i had no idea how to write it, so i used pictures instead. i definitely want to do more, but tumnlr only allows 10 pictures a post, so here's to hoping i remember to come back to this in the future!
yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift and 67,530 others
yourinstagram: had a very cool dude over today to make even cooler music
yoursistersinstagram: you let someone in the bat cave?!
y/nfan5: possible collab on the new album?
yourinstagram: more like i was helping someone with theirs ;))
harrystyles: Thank you for having me. X.
harryfan3: HARRY???
harryfan7: omgomgomgomgomg
y/nfan1: pls god let us have a harry and y/n collab on his next album i NEED it
harrystyles
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liked by gemmastyles, yourinstagram and 2,233,781 others
harrystyles: HS3. Coming soon.
harryfan8: NEW ALBUM ALERT
harryfan11: HARRY YOU CANT JUST DROP SOMETHING LIKE THAT WITHOUT A RELEASE DATE
harryfan4: this has to be what he was working on with y/n right?
y/nfan3: i need them both on a song together
yourinstagram: had fun late night talking with you xx
y/nfan9: i'm sorry wHAT
harryfan5: is this flirting this sounds like flirting
harryfan13: honestly...here for it
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan7 and 4,320 others
y/nupdates: Y/n in a video for Vogue recently!
"A lot of people ask me how Harry Styles ended up recording at my house when we'd virtually never crossed paths before. It was actually Taylor (Swift) who kind of set the whole thing up. They spoke at the Grammys last year and she apparently gave him my number so we could work together...He called and asked if I was available to help with his album at all. At the time I was on the road, then working on stuff for the band, and it just kind of went back and forth for a few months while we tried to line up our schedules. Then I was done touring, but I was kind of in a weird state in life where I didn't want to leave the house or hang out with anyone. And I remember making up excuses because I wasn't really up to making myself presentable to a whole team of people I'd never met before and having our first meeting be this huge thing. I'd basically built it all up in my head about how our ideas would clash and we wouldn't get along and I just kept telling him maybe some other time. Long story short, Harry showed up at my place a week later by himself with just a guitar, a notebook, and my favorite takeout order. We spent the whole day together working on a bunch of different stuff from themes to genres of music to sampling and mixing. And writing. Lots and lots of writing. And now he's a dear friend. He's so sweet and so talented. I wish him all the best with the new album."
y/nfan8: ok i'm glad it worked out and everything but imagine a virtual stranger showing up to your HOUSE?? like she said no and he basically forced her to write his album for her
y/nfan4: that's so real of her tbh to not want to leave her house
y/nfan2: y/n is notoriously introverted it makes sense
harryfan13: girl...
y/nfan7: i don't think it was that serious. and if she really didn't want him there she could've said no
harryfan13: and y/n literally called him a friend?? stop trying to start shit that doesn't exist
y/nfan7: of COURSE mother brought them together
harryfan17: i can't believe that's what harry and taylor were talking about in the video!
harryfan2: chill harry doesn't need to be in a relationship with every woman he's associated with
harryfan4: wait but wasn't y/n at that grammys too?
harryfan9: it was still covid it's possible their paths didn't cross
y/nfan19: wait what if he was too shy to go up to her??😭
harryfan4: i love that they're writing besties now but i think they'd be so cute together 🥹
hsupdates
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liked by harryfan4 and 10,343 others
hsupdates: Harry about Y/n L/n for Rolling Stone:
"I've always admired (Y/n's) work. She and her band are incredibly talented, and are just so passionate about creating music. I wanted that same energy for my third album, the freedom to make whatever I want without any reservations, and I knew Y/n was the perfect addition to the team. It took some convincing, but once we kind of got started, we couldn't stop. As we've gotten to know each other these past few months, I not only respect her as a musician, but for the person she is as well. Her soul is one of a kind, and I feel like my album would be so different without her on it. So now not only do I have an album that I'm proud of and love, but I got an extraordinary friend out of it too."
harryfan9: so this is what people mean when they say platonic soulmates
y/nfan12: all we've gotten is crumbs and i'm already in love with their friendship. and the album of course
y/nfan2: i'm so interested to hear this album now. if y/n is on it it has to be good
harryfan3: "her soul is one of a kind?" if that's harry as a friend i don't think i can handle boyfriendrry😭
y/nfan7: i'm holding out hope for them honestly🤞🏼🤞🏼
liked by harrystyles and 23,724 others
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram: you've fallen from the sky down to me, i see it in your face, i'm relief, i'm your summer girl
y/nfan17: shut up are those song lyrics??
yourbandinstagram: the tears behind your dark sunglasses, the fears inside your heart as deep as gashes🎶🎶
y/nfan17: HOLY SHIT those ARE lyrics!
y/nfan6: haven't even heard the song and i know the girls have done it again
harryfan4: could it...could it be about harry?
y/nfan8: you're grasping at straws
harryfan12: are they? they've been spotted together all over LA
harrystyles: ☀️☀️
y/nfan8: as friends. friends can hang out can't they?
harryfan3: new music from harry AND y/n? we're about to be fed y'all
harryfan10: THEY REALLY ARE BESTIES
y/nfan2: i bet they collaborated on this song together
Interviewer (I): What's one memory or experience you can share from making this album? Any trips to Japan or Jamaica?
Harry (H): We stayed in Los Angeles mostly for this one. But erm...in terms of a specific memory...I would say that while I was working with Y/n, one of the tracks was actually inspired by her cat.
I: Really?
H: Yeah. Whenever it did something to annoy Y/n, which was quite often, she'd call her a little freak. The song's obviously not about the cat, but the phrase was in my head and yeah. Things just kind of...snowballed from there.
I: The sound that Y/n's band has is more rock centric, a similar sound to your first album. Is that what we can expect for your third studio album?
I: You've become quite close to Y/n L/n it seems like.
H: Not necessarily. Y/n and I collaborated, but she also let me take the reins in terms of sound. She had opinions of course and we would bounce ideas off of each other...but she really just followed my lead and supported the vision I had. She is playing a majority of the instruments on the album, though.
H: It's hard not to.
I: How so?
I: It sounds like you could go on for quite some time about her.
H: She's just cool, you know? I was kind of intimidated when we met for the first time. She's quiet, but you never forget that she's in the room, you just want to go over and talk to her. Of course once you meet her she's incredibly kind and not at all intimidating, but still like chill and stuff. The first time we met we sat for an hour just talking about music we enjoyed and live shows we wanted to attend and things we learned while in lockdown. She's just effortlessly cool. An old soul, I guess. And somehow she translates that into her music. Her sisters, too. They're all just first-rate musicians.
H: Sorry. I kind of gushed for a minute there.
H: And the band. They're just so talented, you know?
harrystyles
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liked by jeffazoff and 4,211,323 others
harrystyles: From start to finish, making this album has been such an incredible journey. It was so fun to try new things sonically while also making something that I'm one hundred percent proud of. I've never felt more myself while making music than I did while creating this album for all of you, and I have so many people to thank for that. Hopefully you know who you are. I love, love, love you.
harryfan16: 😭😭😭😭😭
harris_reed: little angel👼
harryfan3: WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU
yourinstagram: congratulations h. you deserve it.💐💐💐
harrystyles: I couldn't have done it without you💐
yourinstagram
liked by yourbandinstagram and 53,089 others
yourinstagram: for one night and one night only...but in all seriousness shout out to my friend and his incredible album. happy to have been a part of the magic :)))
harryfan13: HAPPY HARRY DAY!!!
harryfan4: is she in ny??
y/nfan7: yes! she was spotted with harry before the show today
harryfan9: they're literally so cute i love their friendship
harrystyles: You made the magic happen. Thank you for everything. X.
harryfan3: they're so...
y/nfan2: i genuinely think they like fucking with us bc i legitimately can't tell if they're dating or not
y/nfan7: at this point i don't even care i love whatever they're doing they both just seem so happy to be besties/lovers/collaborators and i love that for them
harryfan5: ^^
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan10 and 3,742 others
y/nupdates: Y/n performing Keep Driving onstage with Harry in NYC tonight at ONO!
y/nupdates: When he introduced her, he said: "Tonight is special in a lot of ways. I'm sharing my album with you for the first time, my family's here, my friends are here, and...a very good friend of mine is here to play a song with me tonight. This album wouldn't have been possible without her, so please give her as much love as you've given me. Y/n L/n, everybody!"
harryfan4: stop they're so close it hurts😭
y/nfan7: i was there they were staring at each other and smiling the whole time!
harryfan12: that's the one where he says choke her with a sea view!?
y/nfan7: YES AND I SWEAR HIS SMILE GOT BIGGER WHEN HE SANG THAT PART AND LOOKED AT HER LIKE HE FULLY HAD TO TURN AROUND TO LOOK AT HER BC SHE WAS PLAYING THE DRUMS
harryfan3: i'm choosing to believe they're in love idc what anyone else says
hs/ynupdates
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hs/ynupdates: Harry, Y/n, and her sisters in New York after ONO tonight! Apparently Harry and Y/n were standing and walking very close to each other. Like arms wrapped around each other close.
harryfan2: that could literally mean anything tho. they're good friends why wouldn't they walk next to each other?
y/nfan14: i feel like they don't know if they're dating or not at this point😅
y/nfan8: her sisters are so unserious i love it
y/nfan5: i love that they all showed up for harry🥹
yourbandinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 710,225 others
yourbandinstagram: Thanks for having us, London!
y/nfan1: i can't believe i got to see harry and y/n perform in ONE NIGHT
harryfan3: sending my love and my tears to everyone who got to experience this historic night
harrystyles: Thank you for taking the time to share the stage with me. X.
yourbandfan2: how do y'all always look so good 😭
I: So you opened for Harry Styles a few weeks ago and performed a song with him in New York.
Y/n: My sisters and I did, yeah.
I: How did that come about? Did your team call his team? Or was it more casual than that?
Y/n: Oh, definitely more casual. I think we were just hanging out together one morning and he kind of just suggested it. No bells and whistles or anything like that.
I: So can we expect (Your band) to join Harry on his upcoming tour, then?
Y/n: I don't think so. We're working on putting out a record of our own at the moment, but we do want to get back out on the road soon, but I will definitely be attending more of his shows in the future.
I: And what can we expect from this upcoming record? Did Harry help you the way you helped him out?
Y/n: I've sent him a couple things to listen to, and I value his opinion a lot, both as a friend and as an artist. He also showed me a couple records recently which kind of influenced how I approached some of the songs sonically. He's got a huge vinyl collection at his house. I'm honestly kind of jealous.
I: There's been some rumors running around that you and Harry are in a romantic relationship. Would you like to put any of those rumors to rest?
Y/n: I could see where people might think that. Harry's very affectionate by nature, and over the last couple of months we've become very close. He's not just someone I admire in the music industry, but as a person in general. I feel incredibly lucky to call him a friend. And a close one, at that.
I: So just a friend then?
Y/n: Yeah. Yeah, just a friend.
913 notes · View notes
greedandenby · 11 months
Text
Jacob Anderson, Sam Reid, and others talking about Jam Reiderson.
Here's a compilation of bits and pieces from various interviews about these two men's beautiful friendship. Will be updating as new promo for subsequent seasons comes out!
(Long post, so keep reading!
- there's SO MUCH good stuff)
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Pride.com
Q: You guys have incredible chemistry. It hinges on that. Can you talk a little bit about how you built that kind of connection?
JA: I find it so difficult to talk about chemistry. Because me and Sam… like each other.
SR: Yeah. I think we’re very similar in a lot of ways, and that was a big relief. It’s a very bizarre job to do when you’re doing it, cause you’re shooting entirely at night, you have amazing costumes and contact lenses and accents and teeth and blood. The scenes, while they feel like they have a flow to them, there’s a lot of splitting up while we do it because we’ve got to have special effects come in or the blood come in, or we’re on a rig of some kind. So it’s a weird experience, and we also had these extraordinary lines of dialogue to say as well. And so to have somebody who’s similar, can process these things the same way as you and bounce off of and decompress with is vital.
JA: Yeah, and the first step is you just have a common language that you find, and sometimes it clicks and sometimes it doesn’t. And we were just lucky that we, you know…
SR: Yeah. Yup.
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Amc.com
Q: The relationship between Louis and Lestat is rife with complications, but at its core there's obviously a real connection there. What was it like crafting this tumultuous relationship on screen with Sam Reid? You two are quite good friends having come out the other end of Season 1.
JA: Yeah, we were good friends when we were doing it and I think that's part of why it worked out for us! We didn't put too much emphasis on trying to figure everything out. The scripts are so beautiful, the writing is so dense and so full of life and detail that you don't need to discuss it too much. Obviously, we talked to the directors, and they'd have ideas and we'd have ideas, but I think, in terms of me and Sam finding it, I think we just paid attention to each other. We just trusted the writing, trusted each other, and it meant that we’d already be prepared for whatever was going to come up. We felt comfortable with each other, so we could try things and it felt safe. It felt like we could play around with body language and with eye contact and all these things. But it was unspoken, I think. It wasn't something that we spent a lot of time discussing. Everything's intentional to a certain extent, but there's this other thing that is just about instinct and listening really.
Q: And having the right scene partner where that happens.
JA: Yeah, I felt really lucky! Sam gives you so much. There's so much to play off and I hope that I did the same for him. Our first day of shooting we did the opera house stuff, and I was so excited. It's the scene where he talks about loneliness, and I remember thinking even though I'd got to know him a little bit and we'd done a bit of rehearsal and we'd become friends by that point, I was like, "Oh wow, this is going to be really special! I'm going to get to do this every day. I'm going to get to watch this character come to life and respond to it." That's a gift. Sam Reid is a gift!
Q: The relationship between Louis and Lestat is rife with complications, but at its core there’s a real connection there. What was it like crafting this tumultuous relationship on screen with Jacob Anderson? You two are quite good friends having come out the other side of Season 1 so if anything, I’m sure the experience brought you closer together? 
SR: Yeah, definitely. It definitely brought us closer together. It was really crazy this stuff that we were doing together. We'd have these massive scenes, and it would be just him and I in the middle of the night playing opposite each other, not really being able to see each other all the time with the contact lenses. You just rely so heavily on one another. You also rely on each other because you're like, "Have we pushed it too far? Is it too much? Is it enough? Like, do we believe each other?" Because it's this very intense relationship but we’re also supernatural beings. So, you're constantly having to reframe the way that you look at a relationship and say, "Well, hang on, my character has all this power." Like in Episode 4, I remember saying, when all the police are coming over to the house, I was like, "Why are we even worried about this? I don't understand why I would be even concerned about this at all." But you're negotiating with someone who's going, "Yeah, but my desire to have a connection to humanity makes this important," and so you're like, "Oh, okay." We managed to balance off each other in that way, because my character's way past any connection to humanity and Jacob's character is holding onto those last threads of his humanity. When we'd both be examining a scene, we'd both be coming at it from different angles. Because of the love between the two characters, there's always that negotiation and blunting of the other's real intention. I couldn't really imagine doing it with anybody else! We did all of it, everything, together, really.
Gold Derby Daniel Hart Interview
Q: In what ways does the show’s really rich visual palette and then of course Sam and Jacob’s lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry on screen influence some of the choices that you made on the score throughout your process?
DH: There’s a theme that I would call their love theme, and it’s sprinkled throughout the first episode but it played in full over the end credits in a piece called “In Throes of Increasing Wonder”. And that theme appears in almost every episode, I think, in some form or another. I don’t think that theme was possible before I had seen some of that interaction between Jacob and Sam as Lestat and Louis. It’s born of their emotional reactions to each other.
IWTV Podcast
Ep2
Q: You and Jacob did your chemistry tests over Zoom? Which, I mean, does anyone have chemistry over Zoom?
SR: Yeah, I don’t really know what they were looking for or how you’re supposed to gauge chemistry from that, because it was really glitchy and we were all speaking on top of each other and trying really hard to act into the camera, which just wasn’t working. But look, I really… Jacob is such a lovely person, such a really fantastic actor and so easy to be around. And I could see that he was going to be a very easy person to fall in love with. So it was fun. In fact I just came from having ice cream with Jacob and he says hello.
Q: Oh my God, I’m obsessed. I want these moments. Give me that footage, okay? I want ice cream footage, I want strolling the streets of downtown New Orleans footage.
SR (laughs): Yeah, I mean we hang out all the time and we’ve become very, very good friends. Cause it is a crazy journey that we’re on and it was a crazy job, so it’s really lovely to have such a good friend.
Ep3
Q: Talking about Sam, how much time did y’all get before you started actually shooting? It’s like “Okay, we’re in love now and it’s going to be very tortured and complicated” – Rolling!
JA: Yeah. I don’t know if I completely believe in luck, but I think there’s like a weird cosmic luck in this whole thing. It is a huge roll of the dice. The first day we met each other, obviously we both had our masks on, and we had a hug and we were like “Oh hi”. And then we just spent the next day walking around New Orleans and getting to know each other. And I truly love that man, so much. Like, we connected so quickly and just found like… And I think part of that as well is that there’s a level of trust that we had to have, otherwise we weren’t going to be able to do this at those hours, and those scenes, and the intimacy of their relationship, and also the toxicity and the fire in it. We had to really hold each other and be like “All right, have we got each other’s back?” And we did, we were just like “We’re in this together. Let’s listen to each other and try and have fun.” And we did, we had a lot of fun. I thought that taking on this role would be quite triggering for me in lots of different ways. I thought it was going to force me to have to reconcile with lots of feelings that I had. I thought it was going to be just a guilt and shame and despair fest for six months. And actually I just found it really, really cathartic being Louis, and Louis has helped me a lot. I think there’s something about acceptance in Louis and acceptance of self, and like “This is who I am, this is who I’ve been, and I’m enduring, I’m choosing to keep going. I’m choosing to accept who I am.” And that was really helpful for me. So rather than feeling tortured, I think I ended up just feeling very… held, very comforted by the whole thing, in a weird sort of way.
Ep7
Q: I’m wondering what you guys would do or how you would hang out on set. Is there hanging out or are you more like “Okay, they’re setting up a light, I gotta go lay down, I can’t with you right now.”
JA: No, we were pretty inseparable, to be fair. There wasn’t really any hanging out. We just were. At a certain point, we just were. We didn’t share a trailer, but it was like, a wall separating us. And we’d just end up sitting on the stairs or texting each other through the wall.
SR (laughs): Through the wall, just texting all the time.
JA: We became a hive mind.
SR: We did, yeah.
Q: Were you still a hive mind once you wrapped? Would you still text and stuff?
JA: Yeah.
SR: Yeah.
JA: We’re going to the theatre tonight. We’ve seen each other every day for the last week. We’re still choosing to spend time together. It’s probably not very healthy. Very co-dependent (laughs).
Ep8
Q: Obviously viewers are in love with Jacob and Sam. People are tweeting me photos of them eating ice cream. We call ourselves #icecreamhive. The fandom is strong. Can you tell me about how you found Jacob and Sam, and the process of deciding they were Louis and Lestat?
Rolin Jones: Well, obviously 9 billion people auditioned. You kind of get down to ten actors that you like on both sides. The simple math of it is the second those two got into their Zoom rooms together, it was very clear something very dynamic was happening. On Jacob’s side, there’s this sort of genuine warmth, kindness, humanity. You’re like “Okay, for a character who’s going to make a number of questionable choices, how do you make them want to love him?” And on Sam: I saw his face and I said “No fucking way! No fucking way that guy, this chiselled, stupid chiselled, with his locks and his dreamy eyes. I was like no, no, no, no. And then I pressed play, and he really knew how big we were going to go. He was wildly specific and subtle. It was in his voice. There was something a little Jeff Bridges/Starman about it, and I was like “Oh, this guy feels like an alien and he feels other than us”. They both won the audition, that’s basically what happened. Although I’ll tell you, here’s a dirty secret: ready for this? Sam bought this piece of technology, that you can do a push-in close-up right when the scene is getting a little juicy. And I just started laughing my ass off. I was like “Oh my God, this guy wants this so hard.”
Mark Johnson: You called me the first time you had seen Sam, and you were just so excited about the potential of this guy and you basically said: “He’s going to be next to impossible to beat.” And sure enough, nobody could really touch him. But from the very first time you saw his audition you were pretty convinced that we had our Lestat.
Keep It Podcast
JA: Sam is just like my… partner-in-crime, and I feel so lucky that I got to spend every day with him. We had to do a lot of stuff in this show and when I say a lot of stuff I mean, those nights are no joke. Knowing those scenes and working on those scenes together at that hour – you can only do that with somebody that you like, even if the scene calls for tension. I think you would just kill each other if you didn’t like each other.
PaleyFest
Q: Jacob and Sam, I feel like the show wouldn’t work unless the chemistry’s there between Louis and Lestat. There’s a lot riding on that. So how did you two form this immortal bond, if you will, during filming, knowing how important it was?
JA: We just spent a lot of time together even when we didn’t need to (laughs). I don’t know, like, how do you put that kind of thing into words? It’s just, like… I really love Sam. I like spending time with him. I like working with him. I find the way that we talk about what we’re doing… Well, we’re not talking about what we’re doing all the time but I think we have a similar language. I dunno, it’s ki(smet?)… It’s, like, how do you describe a vibe? (laughs)
Q: Sam, how do you describe the vibe?
SR: I think the work, the world and the characters are so extreme and it’s a very intense thing to do. And I think we leant on each other a lot throughout the process and we were very grateful for the friendship that we had built to be able to get through six months of night and some pretty intense scenes. And to have someone that you can look across the room and have a private giggle with and get on with the job and debrief with at the end of the day is invaluable. Chemistry with actors is a complicated beast because it is our job to manufacture it, but when you don’t have to and it just comes naturally it makes everything so much more easy and enjoyable, particularly when you’re nude and bleeding (laughs). You’re really happy you have a buddy (unintelligible).
Q: I was in the Entertainment Weekly suite when all you guys came through for Comic Con at the Hard Rock Hotel and, I mean, I was watching you all interact. Bailey, break it down for me: these two, do they have like a super-bromance going on? Like, what is happening?
Bailey Bass: They’re best friends! They really are, it’s really precious. (Delighted grin from Jacob) Look at Jacob’s face! (laughs)
JA: Are we best friends, Sam?
SR: Yeah, you’re my best friend.
Eric Bogosian: I have to say, I have to throw in: I have two sons who are roughly the age of these guys, and we all went over to Comic Con, us three. And walking around was like being with my kids. The two of them are just like together (clasps hands together) getting into everything and I’m following them around, like “Wait a second, wait a second! Let me catch up with you there!” I didn’t really get it when I first got to set, I didn’t understand what was going on with these two guys, because they were so happy and they were so tired and they were so bonded and I was like “What dimension have I entered here?”
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Rotten Tomatoes
About the casting process:
JA: I asked (Alan Taylor): “How did you guys decide that it was the right thing?” And he was like: “To be honest, by that point” – cause we did like eight rounds of auditions – “it was more about the way that you interacted when you weren’t doing the scenes. It was about how you listened to each other.” It’s just that we got on, we were pretty comfortable between the things.
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Schön magazine
Q: Tell me more about the dynamic between Jacob and you who plays Louis, your love interest?
SR: Jacob and I get on well, we have a close friendship. We bonded strongly throughout the making of this show. He’s one of my favourite scene partners I’ve ever had because it’s just such an easy working relationship. There’s a lot of trust between the two of us. You know, it’s a fucked up toxic relationship. It’s messed up. But at the core of it is like this intense, inescapable love. So, we have to play out a very morbid, obsessive, passionate relationship. I think it would be really hard to do if you hated the person opposite. I’m so grateful that we get on.
ScreenRant at SDCC 2022
Q: Louis and Lestat have an iconic relationship: epic, spanning years and continents, lives ruined, bloodshed. What is it like bringing that to the screen and working together to really establish that immortal bond?
JA: It’s been the greatest partnership – creative partnership – in my life.
SR: Awww.
JA: No, I’m not joking, it really has!
SR: I’d agree, actually. It’s very hard, it’s a very intense relationship that they have, and you have to believe in that relationship. The things they do to each other are so extreme and painful and hurtful. And it’s been fun to have a real buddy to go through that and debrief with at the end of the day.
JA: I’m not sure how we could’ve done everything that we’ve done if we didn’t really trust each other.
SR: Yeah, it would’ve been awful if we hated each other.
JA: And it’s one of the great… you know, in the books, when they join together again – even when you know how awful they’ve been to each other – it’s just like you’re home, and I think that’s something that we always subconsciously tried to make sure was in there. They are kind of like home to each other, particularly after Louis’ human attachments start to fall away.
Eric Bogosian: I just want to say, these two guys (pointing to Jacob and Sam), it’s great watching them, their bonding and everything. The only difference between them and the guys in the fictional world: I’ve never seen them fight.
Bailey Bass: They were walking together alongside the San Diego beach. (To Jacob and Sam) You were! I mean, how adorable is that?
JA: We’re quite co-dependent. I don’t know if that’s a problem (laughs).
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SDCC 2022 Panel
SR: It’s the greatest gift that I’ve ever been given, really. And then of course (pointing to Jacob) this guy.
JA: Awww!
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SDCC 2022 Press Conference
Eric Bogosian: As a witness to what was going on, watching the way these guys (pointing to JA & SR) interacted was amazing. They had a chemistry that I’ve actually never seen before, and it continues even as we’ve been here for Comic Con. It’s wonderful to watch. I won’t get into it too much, I don’t want to characterise what goes on between them, but there was a great feeling on our set.
TV Insider at SDCC
Q: The level of intimacy that you two have to establish early on is really impressive. Did you know each other? Did you get to spend time hanging out before you got to be these immortal entwined characters?
JA (to SR): What did we do? We had like one Facetime call…
SR: Yeah, we had a Facetime call and then we were texting. We texted a lot, so we go to know each other via text.
JA: Me and Sam talk to each other every day, by the way. We couldn’t cut the cord.
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TV Insider’s Trivia Night
SR & JA: Hi, we’re Jam Reiderson and we’re from Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire!
Holding up boards that say:
SR: [I won!]
JA: [But I won (really) at life]
SR: Bastard!
JA: Because I get to be with you, Sam, all the time! That’s the twist.
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TV I Say Podcast
JA: Me and Sam spent 40 minutes yesterday in a sticker shop. Like, just looking at stickers and buying stickers. That’s not a thing that you ever really talk about. You don’t go like “Are you into stickers?”, you know? (…) I feel like Sam and I end up mentioning things in passing like “Do you wanna go do this or do you wanna do this?” and the other person’s like “Yeah!” But then, we have… There are so many crossovers. You wouldn’t expect it because we grew up in very different ways in very different countries. But we have crossovers of weird things or very niche things that we’d never discussed, really, right up until the point of promoting this show and doing press, that we’re like, “Great!” Like we’re going to go to Universal today. And I thought “Oh, is it a bit of a weird thing to ask?” Like, I don’t know if it’s awkward to… Normally, I wouldn’t ask a friend if they just wanted to go to Universal. But with Sam, I’ll be like “Should we go to Universal Studios?”, and he’s like “Yeah! Let’s do it!” Do you know what I mean? It’s just, I dunno, we just have similarities that we couldn’t have really… We couldn’t have known that we were so similar, but it really helped us when we were working, even if we didn’t know it at the time.
Young Hollywood
JA: I don’t know, we just liked each other straight away. We just had similar thoughts about what this was, about what we were doing. He’s one of my favourite people I’ve ever met in my life, let alone worked with. We just work well together. I can’t even really pinpoint exactly why. We’re going to hang out now, like after this we’re going to go to the Grove…
Q: Oh he’s in LA?
JA: Yeah!
Q: Oh my God, that’s perfect! I was going to say when was the last time you talked to him?
JA: Like half an hour ago.
Q: What’s the best thing that came from IWTV for you?
JA: That’s hard to… Sam Reid. Let’s say Sam Reid.
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SFX Magazine – May 2024
That being said, [Rolin] Jones admits that it was a tough adjustment for Anderson and Reid to navigate this season. “It’s very clear, they’re very, very good friends,” Jones observes. “They really do talk every day together. So generally speaking last year, they had each other. They would get off the scene, they’d go to the bench and they would talk.”
92NY Season 2 Advance screening
JA: [Working with Sam on S02] was like slipping on a glove. Like, a glove that fits really well, wasn’t it? (laughs) Wait, is that dirty? (laughs)... An old sock!
Eric Bogosian: I have to say, I’ve never seen two actors in a company behave the way these two guys do. When I got to set and I first met them, they were already as if they were stuck to each other like brothers. (…) And then I watched them just… They follow each other around, like, whenever they’re not in scenes they’re like two puppies playing together.
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Instinct Magazine (May ’24)
JA: I think the chemistry between Sam and I is based on a similarity in approach, and the way I think about these characters. Also, we just get on – I think that translates in a way.
AMC Talk (May ’24)
Re working with Sam on “DreamStat”
JA: We didn’t work on it too much ahead of time. Sam and I really trust each other. So, we’d just show up and be like, “we’ll be fine. We’ll just figure it out as we go.” We really listen to each other. (…) [Louis and Lestat’s] dynamic this season is very different. They’re not fighting. They’re not shouting at each other. That kind of intensity has gone a bit, which was fun! That was a new thing for me and Sam to play, this kind of companionship thing. It was fun and I was just glad that Sam was there, and that I was going to get to work with him.
JA: Sam and I have talked about how nice it would’ve been to have had a little mini-series where you just see Lestat and Louis just hanging out in New Orleans. (…) And not necessarily hunting, just like walking, sitting on a bench, chatting, really like the norm.
People Magazine Interview ‘24
Q: What’s a headline you’d use to describe your friendship in real life?
JA & SR: Sam and Jacob go to the movies (laughs)…
JA: … and walk around the city…
SR: … sit in a park and chat for hours.
Sam Reid answers fan questions (AMC)
Q: Who makes you laugh the most on set?
SR: Jacob.
Question from Jacob 😏 (SR reaction: Jacob Anderson? Who's that? 😚): Why is Jacob Anderson your favourite person to work with?
SR: He is very talented and he does some extraordinary work in this season. I feel very lucky to work with him… aside from the fact that he’s a dick. 🥰
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I ask this question from a curiosity standpoint, and don’t mean to seem rude or anything, but why don’t you like Daniel Ricciardo? Am I missing something?
He’s far less offensive than a lot of the other drivers. He has a tendency to awkwardly laugh rather than say “that’s a shitty joke. Not okay”, which is frustrating, but not even in the same universe as something like Lance Stroll physically assaulting his trainer.
Like all F1 drivers, he wants to be WDC and talks a big talk, but he’s still nowhere near as obnoxious as a lot of the other drivers, who all think and say the same.
Maybe my understanding isn’t correct? As far as I know, his only really shit time as a driver was with McLaren in 2022, and words like “scapegoating” and “sabotage” get thrown around a lot. In 2021, he gave McLaren its only win in over a decade, and it wasn’t team orders based, and he hauled Renault back up into the podium as well, for their first time in almost a decade. I don’t think he should have left Red Bull, and I don’t think he’s necessarily an Alonso or Verstappen level talent, but he also made those Red Bulls and Renaults that he drove look a lot better than they were.
It's not just about what a driver's like on the track; it's his attitudes off the track too and Ricciardo has really bad form. As for dragging the Renault into the points, and the Red Bull when it was underperforming - that's his job and the cars weren't that bad. If he'd swapped with one of the back markers at the time, they'd likely have performed just the same. Plus, if he made the Red Bull look better than it was, why wasn't he the one winning championships in it? Why did Vettel get all that action when all Ricciardo got was a handful of race wins?
Anyway, here's (just some of) why I firmly believe that Daniel Ricciardo is every bit as obnoxious as the most obnoxious drivers on the grid. If you don't read right to the end, and I wouldn't blame you, please at least take in the part I've highlighted in red; it pretty much sums up the type of character he is and why I - along with many others - really do feel that he's most definitely obnoxious.
“I don’t watch the news and feel better about my day so I choose not to watch it.” Just one direct quote regarding his complete and shameless ignorance about the extreme humans rights abuses prevelent in some of the countries F1 travels to. What it amounts to is that the “drama and negativity” (his own words) of news reports on out-dated and abusive attitudes to women and LGBTQ people is a buzz kill so he’d rather not know about it, thanks all the same.
His attitude to the sexist objectification of the (now thankfully defunct) Grid Girls: "It's kind of like part of the attraction of the sport, fast cars and fast girls,". In his opinion, because it’s a male dominated sport it’s “a cool thing” so “let’s keep them”. If that's not obnoxious, I don't know what is.
On “Your Mom’s House” (a lowest common denominator podcast aimed at pathetic little boys who think they’re men) he laughed along with deeply sexist, misogynistic ‘jokes’ about women. There are plenty of drivers who would, at the very least, have kept their reactions neutral, making it clear they didn’t think it funny, but not Ricciardo; he was more than content to chuckle away at their vile comments about women.
Tricking Yuki Tsunoda into trusting him to come closer on a boat so he could throw him overboard, because it’s funny to force someone to face a very real phobia of sharks by throwing them into a body of water that’s widely known to contain them. I don’t care what Tsunoda’s reaction was to it (it's common for the victim of bullying to make light of their ordeal) or that Ricciardo threw himself into the water too; it’s still an appalling way to treat someone when they’ve been brave enough to be in such close proximity to one of their greatest fears. It’s the behaviour of a bully and Ricciardo is the worst kind of that particular species – a charming bully. The reason he gets away with so much of his crappy behaviour is because so many people are taken in by a cheeky smile, a twinkle in the eyes, and the friendly disclaimer that it’s just a bit of fun; they’re just trying to lighten the mood and make people laugh. It’s always at someone else’s expense though.
Given he was in a highly competitive Red Bull for all those years, he won precious few races, and left because he wasn’t getting the attention he thought was his right. I know athletes have to have an enormous amount of self-belief but to have looked at a racer like Verstappen and sincerely felt that he was his equal? That’s delusional. But is that really how he felt? Or did he – like so many who can’t face real competition when they know someone else is going to come out on top – jump ship because being a big fish in a small pond is preferable to being outperformed and therefore second best? I don’t know which it is but if he really, genuinely, sincerely thought he was on the same level as, first, Verstappen and then Norris, surely he’s just not very bright?
Monza 2021 absolutely was a team orders win for Ricciardo. Have you listened to Norris’s radio? He was faster; he wanted to pass; he asked if he could pass; he was told to maintain position. Either the team were concerned that the two might take each other out (although I am absolutely certain that Norris could have made that move with ease so was it more a case of Ricciardo taking Norris out if he tried to overtake?) or Ricciardo’s ego was so fragile by that point (Norris had been wiping the floor with him) that they decided he needed the win to boost his confidence and get a few more much needed points for McLaren. Either way, Norris was robbed of his maiden victory because he’s a team player who obeyed team orders rather than saying “screw this; I can win and I’m damn well gonna win”. I respect him for playing the team game but I hate the fact that Ricciardo got an undeserved win at his considerable expense (that’s not hyperbole; a driver’s first F1 win really is huge).
You're probably sorry you asked now.
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haiii I was wondering if you could write a fic with nanami and a chubby reader with a big chest, I'm fine with anything so go wild with the fic :))
*sips tea* my first nanami request, giggles. All I could think when I read this was ceo!nanami with his pretty new assistant, so that's what I'm going with♡ it'll be a mix of fluff w/ nsfw bc why not? Hope you don't mind
Content: ceo!nanami. Chubby!reader. Sfw/nsfw. Mdni. Talk of titties, bj, slightly horny Nanami, smidge of jelly nanami, cum on tits.
Part two.
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When Nanami first met you, he didn't really know what to think. A new assistant was a new assistant. They were all the same. He hadn't cared much for most of them. Now, that wasn't to say he was mean, but he treated it strictly professional. Like he should. Teaching them the ropes, giving detailed plans of what their tasks were. The usual. And for the most part, they'd done their job. Albeit slow, messy; he found himself cleaning up after them. Which ultimately led him to cut them loose. Earning a reputation as a strict boss who asks for too much.
But not you. You were diligent, punctual, tidy, kind.
After having you as his assistant for over a week, he could tell you were different. And he didn't have any plans on cutting you lose anytime soon. There was one problem, though. It seemed he had become... too, infatuated with how you did things. It was innocent at first. He found it cute how you'd chew the end of your pen when you concentrated hard on a document you were reading. Or how you'd always pass out coffees in the morning, unprompted, as you remembered everyone's coffee orders. How you reminded him, even though you didn't need to, that he needed to have dinner. You'd noticed he was staying late recently in the office and would always poke your head in. Brows furrowed but still a smile on your face. "Sir, don't forget to eat dinner! It's important to eat your meals." Nanami, of course, would always nod, giving you a curt thank you before secretly watching you leave. His heart thumps rather irregularly whenever you'd say those things.
Eventually, his thoughts began to...turn a lot less innocent. The first occurrence was when he saw you outside of work, a pure coincidence. You were in casual clothes. Showing a lot more skin than you would at the office. And your makeup was a lot less..subtle too. Nanami found that he liked it. A lot. "Oh, Sir! I didn't think I'd see you out in the open like this." You gave him a smile, and it was then he truly paid special attention to your plump lips. And soon, his gaze would wander. To the curve of your waist, the plush of your thighs. Your...assets, sitting particularly perky today. Or had they always been like that? Safe to say, he ended that conversation early with an excuse before you noticed the boner that made a surprise entrance.
And ever since that day. He's paid special attention, more than before, to every move you made. You chewing cutely on your pen? Turned into him thinking about your lips wrapped around him. Bringing him a coffee? Turned into his wandering eyes on your ass as you left his office. And anytime you'd poke your cute face in, reminding him to eat. He had to force himself not to ask if you'd care to share a meal. One where, preferably at the end, you'd be his dessert.
With his head in his hands, Nanami sighed. What was he supposed to do about this peculiar situation.
A knock came to the door. "Enter," he said, sounding exasperated. And of course, your cute self just had to waltz in here. Your curves especially on display today with your outfit. Someone take him out.
"Sir? Are you alright? I've been calling you for the past five minutes. You have a call on line one. Should I tell them to call back?" The worry on your face made him feel guilty. Guilty for all the definitely not safe for work thoughts he had and were currently having about you. "I'm fine. Stress comes with the territory." A lie. Somewhat. You pouted your lips-fuck.
"You know what helps me? A shoulder massage. I could give you one!" His mind immediately sent alarm bells. Telling him to say no, to decline. Yet still, he found himself saying, "If you're offering." You smiled wide, coming around behind him. Setting your notepad on his desk before cracking your fingers, and soon they were on his shoulders. Digging into his tensed muscles with astute precision. God, it felt good. Too good, he reminded himself. He shouldn't be letting you do this yet he couldn't find it in himself to ask you to stop. That was until you did, unprompted, with a clearing of your throat.
"Um, Sir?" You questioned and he was confused. Until he finally tuned back into his senses and that's when he felt it. The heavy weight of his dick between his legs. Hard and leaking, simply from your lithe fingers working at his muscles. He stood up immediately, running a hand down his face. "I'm sorry, this is totally-"
"I can help with that, too." He heard you say, making him blink. And before he could question you further, he watched you drop to your knees. Fumbling with his belt and buttons before slipping him out of his slacks. What was happening? He should stop this. This wasn't appropriate. But he didn't. Instead, he laced his fingers in your hair, helping guide you onto his length. Eyes hazed with lust when he looked down at you, your pretty lips wrapped so sweetly around him. How your tits would bounce with the movement of your head, really driving the urge to slot himself in between in his head. But that could come later. Later? He wouldn't-he couldn't.
Nanami swore, feeling you suck him with expertise. He wondered how many times you've done this. How often. And for some reason, jealously, slowly creeped into his veins. He had no right to be jealous, thinking of how many cocks you've had in your mouth before him, but it did. And it lead him to fucking your mouth roughly. Making a true mess of your mouth before he pulled out, stroking with persistence as he came all over your breasts. Marking you, in a weird way.
And he was going to apologize. His brain fog slowly fading but when you smiled at him. Seemingly happy with what had occurred, he snapped his mouth shut. Tucking himself back into his pants and offering you some tissues. "Thank you," you said. Cleaning off his seed, tossing it into the trash before standing up.
"Let me know if you ever need help relaxing again, Sir." And you said nothing more as he watched you leave.
He was fucked.
A/N: low key kinda wanna make a pt 2 for this. Thoughts?
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hii I was wondering if you wanted to do a snippet about a thief stealing from assassin/vigilante and then getting cornered later when they think they’ve gotten away
thank you sm I’ve always loved your writing <3
"Did you know," the voice said, "that they used to chop the hands off thieves?"
The thief whirled with a yelp.
Their mark caught their wrists, snake-quick, in an unyielding grip and smiled.
The thief's heart jumped into their throat.
"Did someone tell you to steal from me, little thief." Their not-so-victim swaggered a looming step closer, towering over them. "Or was it all your own idea? Think carefully."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
They raised their brows. Their grip tightened.
The thief yanked at their hands, a gasp of pain on their lips.
Of course, they'd been caught before. Especially in the early days of their heisting career there had been moments when they'd ended up hurtling down the streets, zig-zagging, shouts rising behind them. But more and more...
Well, for one, they'd quickly stopped pickpocketing. Most of the people truly worth robbing weren't the sort casually strolling down the street with cash in the pockets. They lived in their own exclusive world, chaperoned from moment to moment in sleek cars. Being a proper thief, one that really made gold, was about fitting in. It was about persuading rich folk to hand over their money. It was a sleight of hand of confidence and hacking.
"I'd start with your little finger," their mark murmured, almost reverent. "Then start cutting the rest of those quick, clever digits."
The thief's mouth went sick-dry. Hangover, just-thrown-up, scorched.
"I'll give it back," the thief said.
"Better," their mark said, and brought the thief's hands up to their lips to press a kiss of thanks. "But not what I asked."
The thief thought they might pass out on the spot. Still. They squared their shoulders. They tried to look cool, and roguish, and like they could double-wield daggers. They couldn't.
"How did you find me? Who are you?"
"Not," the other sing-songed, "what I asked."
"My idea," the thief bit out. "Because you're a rich jerk."
Their mark didn't laugh, but the laugh tucked into the corners of their lips as they smiled.
"I'm Marauder."
The colour drained from the thief's face. Their hands went slack in the vigilante's hold. "No - but you -"
"You didn't know?" the vigilante asked. They clicked their tongue. "You should have deep-dived your research. Sloppy." Their gaze flicked over the thief. "Cute, but sloppy."
The thief gave a fervent shake of the head. In hindsight, it made a horrible amount of sense. A screwed up, non-parental Bruce Wayne sort of sense.
"See, when I steal from people," the vigilante said, "I steal from the bad guys. A Robin Hood act, if you like. But you...tut, tut."
"I said I'd give it back. I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry you got caught."
"No shit." It came out slightly hysterical. The thief felt a little hysterical. "I thought you were another rich asshole."
"Oh," the vigilante purred, "I'm definitely a rich asshole. Just not the worst out there."
The thief eyed them, warily. They knew, intellectually, that was true. In practice, news stories of violence and wrath and cut-throat justice flashed through their head. The vigilante was merciless in the pursuit of what they thought was right.
They wanted to say that stealing probably wasn't the worst thing ever, and the vigilante probably had way bigger priorities, but it wouldn't quite come out. Their hands felt very fragile.
"Which is why," the vigilante said, "I'm here instead of the police. I think I can use you. Your skills. We could make this city better."
"I don't think I want to rob the kind of people you fight. But thanks."
"Tough."
The thief swallowed. "You really should just send me to jail. Thanks."
The vigilante smiled again. "Is that really want you want?"
"You don't need me."
"No, but I want you. You're good. With me on your side, you could be the best. Consider it community service."
"I'm giving you your stuff back."
"Too late." The vigilante finally let go of their hands. "You steal from me, and I'll steal you back. We're going to have so much fun together, little thief."
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chubs-deuce · 2 months
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First off, love your work! Your art is phenomenal!
Though, I am rather curious. We've seen Lucifers reaction to finding out about Dawn, but what about the other residents of the hotel? I can't imagine Angel, Vaggie, Husk, and Nifty have an exactly pleasant reaction. Nifty because babies are messy, Husk because it's Alastor and ew??? he made a baby???, Angel because what was the sex like, and Vaggie because her (current? ex? never dated in this au?) girlfriend just popped up with a child that she apparently had with someone who's the literal worst. I guess I more or less answered my own question, but I'm still curious how you think they'd react. Perhaps even Lilith if you think that's something you can tackle with our limited information about her? I can honestly imagine her storming out of Heaven, kicking down the hotel doors, and scooping up little Dawn for Nana time. Maybe she even brings Alastors mama with her at one point as a small thank you to him for giving her a grand baby, but she probably has the same reaction to him as Lucifer and doesn't like him much. Lol
Also, you've probably talked about it before, but what were Charlie and Alastor trying to do when they accidentally conjured Dawn? You mentioned a spell/incantation or something, but what was it for?
One last question: I once saw a similar comic where Alastor accidentally made a baby with Angel and, upon trying to decide what to do with it, Alastor proceeded to try to (pretend to.... I hope) eat the baby. Did Alastor do the same thing in this situation or would he do something somewhat similar? What would Charlie have done if he'd tried?
Oh!!! What a wonderful ask to receive and get to pick apart/build upon!!!
First of all I'm so glad you like my art, thank you so much! :D
Secondly I'll happily give my take on everything you've just brought up - you're making many great points and I agree with a lot of them too :DD I'm gonna give my input under the cut since this got hella long lmao:
Question 1: how would the other hotel residents react?
I already agree with pretty much most of your ideas!
I personally think that they wouldn't just spring the news on the residents without Charlie being Charlie and wanting to make sure that whole thing goes over well (and correctly) and insisting on giving the context upfront first before any crass assumptions can be made!
So while Angel would be disappointed at the lack of implied sex to prod them about, I do think he'd take a liking to the baby p much immediately. He used to have a lot of extended family growing up under the circumstances that he did, so I like to imagine he slips into a kind of older brother/caretaker/babysitter role fairly easily! Not to mention he's one of the most emotionally intelligent members of the cast, so I think he'd also pick up on Charlie's emotional turmoil fairly quickly and become a great source of support early on.
Husk would definitely be weirded out, but more worried for the offspring and how much Alastor could potentially corrupt an innocent creature that harbors unknown amounts of immense power given her heritage by being given the freedom to raise her in his image. He does inevitably grow to care a lot more about her over time.
Niffty definitely doesn't like Dawn until she's old enough to start cleaning up after herself properly - by then Dawn has already developed a mischieviously playful personality, so Niffty easily manages to rope her into shenanigans such as bug hunts or stealing someone's diary or sth.
Vaggie's a tricky one since I haven't yet decided where she stands with Charlie.
Vaggie has every right to be extremely wary of Alastor and his motives (even after his efforts in the battle against Adam), she absolutely hates the idea that this freak managed to procreate - and with someone as innately powerful as Charlie nonetheless! But she also cannot deny that the child is ultimately not at fault in the slightest and undeserving of her ire, so she comes to the conclusion that the best she can do to prevent this fucker from influencing her negatively is to monitor their interactions and interject to keep the kid on the "right" track morally speaking.
Part of me wants to make it so they mutually broke up after Charlie made her deal with Alastor (Vaggie would've had a justified reason to be upset with her for being reckless and Charlie would've still been upset with Vaggie for keeping such a huge secret from her for years, so a fight would make the most canonically compliant sense here)…
…but I also think that keeping her and Charlie purely platonic from the get-go with Vaggie still working her way out of the militaristic mindset that was drilled into her in the past will generally be easier for me to successfully pull off.
This may or may not result in Vaggie trying to teach a five years old Dawn to fight with a spear that her little hands can barely even hold in the name of self defense :'D
As for Lilith… I don't know if I'll even really touch on her in the story? Mostly bc I have no clue what any of the clues we've gotten so far could mean for her personality-wise ^^" She could be the worst mom in the history of moms or the woman we saw by the beach was secretly Eve all along or maybe Lilith is actually playing some kind of 6d chess we don't see all of the pieces of for everyone's greater good - it's too many variables to really come to any one conclusion ^^"
I'll have to think about it in more detail later down the line…
Question 2: What were Charlie and Alastor trying to do when accidentally conjuring Dawn?
See, the exterminations are still happening bi-yearly now that Lute is in charge and Sera refuses to lift a finger to keep them in line, so the thirst for vengeance continues to go unquenched, only growing as time passes.
Great question, and one with an answer!
To add to that, Emily and a handful of others in heaven are getting worried about some ominous visions archangel Ramiel has been having and thought it best to entrust Charlie with Lucifer's old grimoire (that he wrote before he fell).
The reason? It appears in some of Ramiel's visions and they're hoping there's some kind of helpful thing in there.
And, more importantly, it's written in an ancient angelic language, one that Charlie isn't fluent in.
The spell they used to create Dawn is actually titled something Charlie translated to "Tool Of Infinite Potential"
So Charlie thought huh! Maybe this can help protect us better in the next etermination without relying on dad again or has some other hidden purpose I'm not yet privvy to that will help with restoring balance to heaven? It's scribbled across the last two pages of the book.
The spell requires at least two casters - so clearly it must be a powerful one, right?
The only people coming to mind powerful enough to handle that sort of magic would be Lucifer and Alastor - but considering the grimoire is written more like a diary and Charlie is very certain she wasn't meant to even have it to begin with, her father falls out of the equation.
So… they were techincally always trying to create Dawn, they just didn't know it yet due to a translation error :'D
That left Alastor, who then talked her into giving it a shot.
What neither of them knew yet was that Charlie mistranslated the spell - it's not "Tool" of infinite potential, but "Vessel". What is the forbidden offspring of an angel but a vessel of infinite potential? To raise up and teach whatever knowledge and beliefs you want?
Question 3: Would Alastor try to eat the baby?
No :'DDD
He's unhinged, yes. He doesn't normally like children - that is also correct.
Also Alastor is nothing if not an opportunist and after the initial surprise and shock and double-checking their notes to make sure they performed the ritual correctly… There's two things happening in his brain.
But I don't think he'd just try to fucking. Eat a child that was a rather costly fucking thing to make - sucking up not only materials and hours of planning but also one of his shadow minions, his blood and a literal piece of his soul.
Maybe he'd joke about it eating it to remove it after seeing Charlie vastly more in distress about the whole ordeal? But not really mean it, if so, yet still receiving a horrified glare from the princess lol.
Firstly: This child is equal parts him and Charlie - he recognizes the chance to mold and shape a young demon that might be on par with Charlie in terms of power in his image.
Secondly: He's hyperaware that he talked Charlie into doing this ritual, the baby undeniably looks like it's his - he's as much to blame here as her mistranslation.
There's a responsibility there for him, as both participant and not quite willing donor. That child has a literal piece of both of their souls in it and I genuinely don't think his internalized misandry and planet-sized pride would allow him to be like the deadbeat dads he's offed quite a few of in life now that he's put in a similar position. He would want to be better than his own father at least - especially if he wanted to succeed at shaping this kid completely to his will.
THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!! I hope this wasn't too bothersome in length to read through ^^" (even tho I had a blast writing this up all evening lol)
Have a great day <3
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eldritch-nightmare · 7 months
Text
yandere sully headcanons.
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a/n: don't look at me i couldn't help it okay i'll work on requests soon just let me have this. dear god it's been so long since i've written anything i hope i still know what i'm doing uhm i listened to stockholm syndrome by erra on repeat while writing this (i am obsessed w the song okay) so if that influenced it a bit then yeah it's 5am ignore the messiness and typos i just Had to write this in one sitting.
warnings: gn!reader, yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, thoughts of kidnapping, actual kidnapping, thoughts of cannibalism, kinda slight possessive behavior, scopophobia, mentions of restraints, technically a precursor to the yandere sully bot now that i'm looking at this.
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He's oh so confused when he first starts feeling things towards you. It's only a brief burst of confusion, only because he's never felt this way for another person before.
Sure, he'd burn the heavens and hells for Liu, and he's pretty buddy-buddy with Eyeless Jack but this? It's new to him.
The confusion doesn't last long, that's for sure. Sully knows exactly what he wants, and he's rather in tune with his emotions so he's able to figure things out quickly.
The intensity of his love certainly surprised him though. The first time he thought 'I want to lock you up and make you mine', he took a step back and was like 'Hey man, that's pretty strange...' but he gets over this pretty quickly, obviously, or we wouldn't be here.
Besides, it's not like he's going to act out on these thoughts, right? I mean, sure, you're the most fascinating person he's ever met but he has restraint. He has a lot of restraint, thank you very much.
Haha... well... about that...
You see, Sully does have a lot of restraint, so he doesn't actually act out on these thoughts and desires for a really long time. He's fine with watching you from afar.
And also because if he did, it could lead to trouble.
He also knows that Liu would be very unhappy with him if he acted out on these desires, and Sully actually really cares about Liu and his boundaries and stuff. Sure, he could totally keep it a secret since they don't share memories and whatnot but still.
So he's content with just watching you from afar and having these thoughts. Shall I provide some examples of the thoughts he has about you?
They'd look so cute chained up and in tears.
God, I just want them to say my name like a prayer.
They're so adorable when they laugh... it makes me want to eat them.
I wonder how they'd react if I took them away from here just so I could keep them all for myself. No one will know where they are except for me... they'd never be able to get rid of me...
Wouldn't it be cute if they realized I want to make them mine? They'd probably run, but that would make things so much more fun.
I honestly think I'll kill anyone who tries taking them from me. They're mine, and I have to protect what's mine.
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.
He loves literally anything and everything you do. You could never bore him, even if you try really hard to. He could listen to you talk about some topic he doesn't care for for hours because it's you who's talking.
Honestly, I'm not entirely sure if he'd bother hiding his obsession with you from you. He definitely hides it from Liu, Liu cannot find out, and the others, but I feel like it's so obvious that Sully wants to just devour you.
The way he looks at you certainly sends chills down your spine, and there's something in you telling you to keep your distance, for your own safety.
He doesn't even care to be subtle when he's watching you. You can always feel his gaze on you whenever he's around, it's almost as if you're the only thing he can focus on whenever you're around. It would be kind of cute if it didn't unnerve you so much.
But it's not just that.
It's... the way he looks at you. The... the pure smitten look in his gaze as he watches you do such mundane tasks. The way his gaze always lingers whenever something or someone else needs or wants his attention. His eyes feel like they're going to consume you whole if you look into them. It's only with Sully. You never feel like this when you're around Liu.
He's well aware that you're uncomfortable with his gaze, and he thinks it's adorable how you avoid interacting with him and how you try hiding away from him whenever you're forced to be around him.
God, he could just eat you up.
And it's so hard for him to see you getting along so well with other people. He just wants to pull you away whenever you get too close to someone.
Oh man he's so very casual with all of this as well. You think it's weird and disturbing, he thinks it's romantic and a part of everyday life.
You've thought about mentioning this to Liu a few times but... what could he do? It's not like he can control Sully. Besides, Sully hasn't done anything that makes you feel as if you're in any immediate danger, he just... watches you. And smiles, occasionally, in a way that makes you unnerved to imagine what he could be thinking about.
Well, until now, that is.
What can he say? He has restraint, sure, but even he can't help but give into his desires every once in a while. And this time he just... decided to take you away.
Not while you were awake, of course.
No, he would never let you be awake for something like that. It's also just easier snatching you while you're peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware.
And you're so cute when you're sleeping, did you know that?
He lets out such a dreamy sigh as he watches you sleep on the bed he set you down on. He had brought you deep into the woods, keeping you in a neat little abandoned cabin that he managed to fix up nicely in his spare time.
Only he knew about this place. He didn't share it with Liu. It was his place. And now, yours as well.
Sully thought about restraining you to the bed... he even has a decent-length chain just for that, but...
Not yet.
He knows the chances of you running when you wake up are incredibly high, and honestly? He wants you to run. He'd love to chase you, it'd be fun for him.
You entertain him in ways no person has ever been able to. You make him feel things he's never really thought of or felt before. You're... interesting to him, which really says a lot.
He's never been so intensely interested in something before, let alone someone.
You're just special like that, he supposes, and he can't wait for you to wake up so the real fun can begin.
The only real concern that Sully has is Liu. Liu, bless his heart, would never approve of this. He's too nice, too compassionate. He wouldn't want Sully to keep you captive in a cabin in the middle of the woods. He wouldn't understand.
So, Sully does intend to keep this a secret from Liu. And the others. It's not like they'll suspect him of doing anything.
After all, he's just the guy uninterested in his surroundings, why would he have anything to do with your disappearance?
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skelliko · 3 months
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Yoo could u do this? If u want to ofc🫡 kazutora x fem reader who's apart of walhalla (kind of like from the last thing u wrote) but she's more quiet and keeps to herself. But when she IS talking w the others she has like the older sister type attitude. Passive, speaks with sarcasm and can grill someone with a single sentence.
So the scenario I have in mind was they first met in like a 'kiyoko and Tanaka' type way from haikyuu? If u don't know it's on yt ^^. Sorry if the request is long😭 if u don't want to do this then it's fine!! And sorry since this is like, the second thing u wrote ab the reader being in Walhalla,
a/n: don't worry about it, I wouldn't consider it to be the same thing since I've made plenty of differences between the two. I went with what you requested but sorry if some things aren't how you pictured/ wanted half way through ♡
Kazutora hanemiya |°- first meet + hard to get
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kazutora having the number 3 as a title means some sort of recognition and responsibility, but half the time he's just there yk. chilling by a wall and waiting for time to gradually get a move on, got things to do but can't exactly do them now, there's always some sort of waiting game but a game that always makes everyone yawn.
bored and tired out of his mind with only a few thoughts to keep his mind busy to avoid getting agitated. all moments before feeling a small gush of air from his left side like someone has rushed to get here. it was hard to ignore what you see at the corner of your eye so just out of instinct he turned his head slightly to eye in that very direction to see who had just came in.
his whole thought process staged, his mind instantly paused, eyes wide open, and his breath on hold. the gush of air that he felt before now holds some emotions, immediately thinking that the air is probably the closest he'll ever come contact with you physically.
'shes beautiful...'
the question of 'what is a girl doing in walhalla?' didn't even come across him, instead it was how beautiful you are. he was captivated and wanted to say something, anything to you but when he opened his mouth to speak it was then that you looked over at him feeling his eyes on you which caused his sole to evaporate leaving him standing like a deer at headlights.
"I- uh..." kazutora hanemiya, all shy and nervous. it certainly was a sight to see considering that a few guys part of the gang were hiding their smiles and muffling their laughter seeing him in this state. if kazutora saw them laughing they'd definitely lose a few front teeth, that way they'll never end up smiling.
he was mainly nervous because no one has ever made his heart beat faster than an adrenaline rush, so this whole feeling was new and unusual.
though just after you moved your eyes away from him he swallowed down his salvia and finally spoke up making your attention back onto him "you're pretty" he thought a lot but at the same time he didn't.
a faint smile curled up on your lips after hearing his words "thank you" any compliment is nice to have but was this him making moves on you? a random guy to stare at you and call you pretty is honestly quite flattering but there's no need to be seen easy especially being around with so many other guys, don't need them thinking they can do the same.
over time after that small encounter, kazutora managed to learn a few things about you from other people, not a whole lot but enough for him to understand why you're here. your cousin is somewhere within walhalla and it wasn't hard to spot him due to kazu admiring you from afar and seeing who you talk to. not in a stalker way but just out of curiosity.
however before, you'd repeatedly and casually hang around the hideout with your cousin, most of the time outside of the building but after sometime someone ended up welcoming you in, Hanma actually, your interaction with him wasn't exactly sturdy in the beginning but because of that it made him want you to join even more. when your around you seem get people's attention in a sense of making them feel calm, precisely like an older sister. one that most probably wished to have but dont.
your quite closed off despite having a fair bit of attention, but that doesn't mean you take advantage of that nor do you actually stay quiet. if someone were to come up to you and strike a conversation you'll happily respond. passive with almost anyone which makes you to be fairly approachable and comfortable to be around with. making sarcastic comments here and there without thinking which then results in some people to return the attitude, but in the end it creates something to find joy in. it's like you can make friends instantly here without trying.
but despite that you still manage to hold up a small barrier. if anyone even remotely annoys you or tries to get a bad reaction out of you they'll get the reaction, but it'll be them that will shuffle over to hide by a corner and have a bleeding wound from the words you're able to inflict on them, your a natural at it and you don't even need to raise your voice to get your point across. some guy was being sexist towards you and that was the last time he ever dared to look at you. which is exactly what everyone around likes about you. kazutora especially.
when you're quiet kazu admires, when you speak he listens. he loves your mental strength and it's certainly something that everyone needs to be taught.
but an older sister always hides her true intentions, just gotta look out for a pattern and soon enough you'll be able to hold her heart like no one else can just because you were able to understand her. sometimes being the oldest always means to end up in some sort of battle, majority of the time it's emotional but keeping too much inside can cause the jar to explode making the shards to hit those who you don't mean to hurt.
sure she's not actually a sister of anyone in Walhalla, but in order for her to feel welcomed they ended up acting like she was one. some even ended up calling her 'big sis'. and so she adopted that sweet role. though only to those who are constantly at the hideout and participate in conversation, essentially only to those that like her.
the first few days after noticing your presence in walhalla he always went stiff in the shoulders, afraid to do something stupid that will make you hide away from him. even when getting caught staring at you he always tried to play it off by looking behind you or simply look away and pretend nothing happened.
but after another few set of days, he grew comfortable. maybe a little too comfortable because now whenever you catch him staring he just holds a smile and keeps looking at you with no shame until he chooses to look away and pretend to carry on with whatever he was doing before, even though he wasn't doing anything before.
he'd join some of your conversations and even tried to get a little close to your cousin, though the two dont exactly kick off very well so he gave that up almost instantly, he didn't want to argue with him and lose his chance with you. normally he wouldn't do that for anyone so It was even a bit of a shocker for kazu himself when half way through he realised 'wait tf am I doing?' and it certainly didn't go under looked by certain other members.
do you know about his interest in you? probably, maybe... definitely. if others can see it then you do too, you're not dumb like that plus others pointed it out for you under hushed voices. just one chance wouldn't hurt, but only if he actually comes forwards to it first. you attract, not chace.
"surprised that you managed to get so many warm up to you so quickly"
you jumped a little upon hearing a voice right over your shoulder but without turning around you instantly recognised who that voice belongs to. kazutora.
"that's a good thing right?" now meeting his eyes but also taking a step backwards, he sure knows how to invade personal space.
"of course it is, though you've made my guys sappy, I'm afraid they'll go weak" he wasn't fully serious... maybe just a little but he held a teasing tone and his whole self seemed completely different compared to when you both first interacted. from being stunned and staggering to now going with the flow and flourishing. he wasn't always gonna stay shy.
"oh is that so? well I'm sure you'll be able to carry everyone out since I presume you haven't" the same little smile from when they met began to curl her lips. there's no way that anyone can say that kazu hasn't become somewhat soft when it comes down to y/n, and here he is trying be different compared to other guys.
"didn't know you had that much confidence in me" matching your energy. he's aware of what you're hinting at but currently talking with you, one on one, is making him not give a damn. you've talked before but they were always around others. all he wants in this moment is you and if it means to be called sappy then sure.
"nah not really, just expectations" ouch
it was all build up so that kazutora can get comfortable and ask the one question that he had stored in his mind.
"so I was thinking, what if we were to go out? just us two"
"what if?" she repeated, purposely focusing on those two words to catch and test him out, make him say it properly.
"well you know what I mean"
"I'm afraid I don't"
she's getting to him, you could tell from the way he looked off to the side and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, can't tell if he's annoyed or if the nervousness is finally catching up to him, confidence always has a limit especially when you're up against someone with a smart mouth. "do you want to hang out?... just us two" there it is.
"hmm, depends what we'd do"
"we can do anything that you like"
it sure wasn't gonna be easy for him, heck no. have a little play around and if he really did want to take you out then he was gonna have to try harder than that and earn it. you have standards and don't go for the first person.
the first time you rejected his offer he thought you were kidding and trying to joke around but when you repeated your answer only then did he walk away from you. but after a few days of exchanging eye contact with each other he seemed to finally be caught on with what you were doing. playing hard to get, a bit infuriating but considering the way how kazu had asked and how most seem be fond of you there would be no reason not to play like that.
the second time he casually put an arm over your shoulders and acted it out like you two were good friends, and this time when he asked he did it right the first time, but even then you still declined.
you're making it hard for him, got him stressing, and turning. someone give this boy some help because currently it seems unhealthy for him to feel like this. just something about you got him latched on and it's only self respect thats keeping him away from begging.
though it doesn't mean that some progress hasn't been made between you two throughout the time. cause then he wouldn't have asked the third time.
third time's the charm right? it's what everyone says and half the time it's not all that true, but for some it is. so when kazutora finally asked you out again and heard your accepting words it was like a lock finally opening after finding the right key. satisfaction and pride.
 ♡----
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wayfayrr · 4 months
Note
🍞 anon here!
So — I accidentally came across one of those realistic cake videos. With that, why not a reader that could create realistic cakes. (* ̄∇ ̄)ノ
The chain could be settling down at Lon Lon Ranch or Legend's home. They could be out because of news of monsters with black blood, so the reader stayed behind for their safety.
When they returned, Reader checked up on them, being sweet and eventually offering cake that they made while they're out. They agreed, a little snack sounds good, and it's kind of the reader to make something for them —
Proceeds to cut out a chunk of the kitchen counter and hands one of them a plate.
>=<=>=<
"Wha — huh?! (@_@)"
"It's cake :)"
"But, that — it was a —"
"Cake :)"
"I — thank you..."
"..."
"Wait — MY CHAIR?!?"
"Cake :)"
>=<=>=<
If you can't hurt them physically, hurt them psychologically. :)
And in terms of yandere, I like to think there's a gag where the reader just somehow — maybe Hylia's blessing — has extremely realistic decoys of them made out of cake, just at their disposal.
Like, please, paint a picture of someone chatting with the reader, building up the courage to hold their hand only for their entire arm to fall on the ground. Cue confused, screaming.
They would eventually see through whether or not something was cake... maybe?
Either way, Reader would definitely be banned from the kitchen or any sort of baking utensil.
the way this is literally the same theme as something I was joking about with some friends loaf - you managed to infiltrate my discord?????/j (it was crack angst about if reader accidentally bit one of the chain and they were a hyperrealistic cake and didn't know, it spiralled from talking about wars and red velvet at the same time)
I love how much paranoia that scenario give parts of the chain though, they can't be certain that anything isn't actually a cake from that moment onwards, if leaving reader alone for such a small amount of time lead to them making so many cakes that were that realistic? who's to say they couldn't make cakes of other things - or even things out in the wild?
if they could by chance even replicate the magic of enchanted items, making them near undetectable to even the most magic sensitive of the links, well if it increases the amount of buffs they have then why not? even if it makes them sad to have to eat something with so much dedication, care and love put into it's creation
as for the yandere side, as well as what you mentioned with decoys? what about reader replacing their weapons with cake before they fled, asking fi for permission to wield her as her other master is losing himself to this sick twisted obsessive lust for them. It also makes me think of peeta in the hunger games and how he hides lmao maybe one of the links reader still foolishly trusts is suddenly grabbed by a hand in a shockingly similar way while the rest are enamoured by the saccarine decoy. only clocking on when their star in the skies falls apart under their touch.
They'd be lucky to ever bake again when they're reunited.
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schizoidcel · 7 months
Note
Would you mind doing Zooble x Gangle alphabet bs? Just trying to see more of the ship on my fy yk? (Also just to clarify, bc I feel the need to say this and bc it’s commonly misunderstood, Zooble and Gangle are both ADULTS Zooble is 22 and Gangle is about 24 or so)
# ZOOBLE x GANGLE ☆
Yes ofc. I love these 2 luvlies they own everyone
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
♡ FLUFF ALPHABET !!
warnings :: None except the fact that once again I didn't proofread. Also this has the old alphabet format I used
Activities - Their favourite things to do with one another is drawing, crafting, talking, literally just doing anything together or being near one another is their favourite thing to do with eachother
Boo! - Neither of them are too fond of suprises. Gangle finds them abit off putting, and Zooble finds them lowkey corny and annoying
Comfort - Gangle definitely makes it obvious that she's upset, it's definitely unintentional though, therefore Zooble knows whenever to comfort her. Though if we're speaking the other way around, Zooble dosen't like to talk about what upsets them too much, but if Gangle realizes, they'll definitely try cheering them up to the best of her abilities
Dance - I dont think neither of them are good dancers, nor like dancing that much, but Gangle definitely likes to dance secretely ..
Emotions - Gangle is more open than Zooble, but Zooble makes sure to also share their emotions with Gangle once in awhile, as to not make her worry about them
Future - Both of them are unsure, but they definitely want to keep being together after they get out one day
Gifts - Gangle definitely is the main gift giver. She loves giving Zooble things she crafted or drew, and I imagine Zoobles room also being lots of abstract things so they fit in perfectly
Hold - GODDD THEY CAN HOLD EACHOTHER SO WELL since Zoobles body is kinda a mish mash and Gangles body is very flexible thanks to the ribbons she can just wrap them around their body. It's perfect.
Ideal - Their ideal date is definitely a quiet place. I feel like both of them don't like people that much, so I think dates behind closed doors is where they're most comfortable
Jealousy - I think neither of them would get jealous that much, Gangle definitely more than Zooble, but again it's unlikely because they trust eachother alot
Kisses - Kissing is a . hard situation for both of them. While Gangle kind of has a mouth, Zooble dosen't really, so Gangle usually kisses Zooble anywhere on their head
Love - Again, mostly its gift giving for Gangle, and words of affirmation/quality time for Zooble
Melt - I think it's just when. Like whenever Zooble compliments Gangle she dies abit inside /pos
Nicknames - Gangle sometimes calls Zooble a corny nickname, and even if Zooble gets inner shivers from it, they can't help but get flustered abit everytime. Zooble also likes to call Gangle a petname only when it's them two hoheha
Obvious - The crush they have on eachother you can DEFINITELY see more clearly on Gangle than on Zooble. But you can see how Zooble gets abit more nervous when near Gangle
Pets - ... I don't really know how u could have pets in this place . But they'd definitely have a cat together
Quiet - They LOVE being in comfortable silence with eachother
Romance - Gangle is a sucker for romantic stuff in secret I feel like, though Zooble not really. But I think that both of them aren't "romantic" all that much, you get me ?? 😭
Safe - I think the fact that Zooble always stands up for themself is what makes Gangle feel so safe around them !!
Tend - While Zooble only gets slightly worried, while Gangle gets over the MOON worried whenever Zooble even gets a scratch ...
Unique - I think. Their "contradicting" personalities is what attracts them both to eachother most 💁‍♀️
Variety - I feel like Gangle would like the same old things, while Zooble is a bigger fan of trying out different stuff. So I like to think that for example, whenever they try a new thing out (like a new activity to perform), they do the same old things in eachothers room after they're done with it
Wash - Does the concept of stinking even exist in this place . Either way, both of them would be clean people, but Zooble definitely has a stricter routine than Gangle. If it were the real world, they'd so do eachothers nails
XO - Both arent a big fan of PDA. Zooble dosen't want to deal with teasing or looks, and Gangle would get too flustered, they'd rather have eachother for themselves privately
Yearn - I think when they miss eachother, they don't show it that much, as much as they want to feel eachothers presence
Zzz - Like I said back in the cuddling point, they definitely sleep like that whenever they sleep together. They're adorbs
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ׂૢ་༘࿐ Thank you for reading! ♡
I tried my best wit this. hope u likesy luv 🌚
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nukaberries · 1 month
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howdy! if this blog is still active, could you do new vegas companions react to courier six being a synth? idk how they'd find out, prolly either six telling them or a close call with a courser. it's up to you!
This puts anything I've ever requested on Tumblr to shame because this is such a cool idea?? I'm obsessed with crossing over the Fallout games - which is probably why MacCready's my favourite companion - so I find stuff like this so fun to write. I also just love requests like this because it gives me the chance to challenge myself, I feel like I write the Fallout 4 companions better (I definitely have more hours in 4 than any game), so I love getting the opportunity to write for New Vegas companions too!
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Companions Reacting to the Courier Being a Synth (Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)
Arcade Gannon When the courier reveals the truth to him, he's more embarrassed than anything that he didn't figure it out himself. He's never seen a robot look so unmistakably humanlike before, leaving him with a lot of questions for the Courier. After all, he's seen them eat, drink, sleep and bleed like any normal, breathing human would - can he even be sure this is the same courier that he first met in Freeside? For a while, Arcade will keep a wary eye on the courier, unsure what to believe, whether he can trust the courier, whether he's been able to trust them at all. Eventually, he comes back around, which is arguably worse for the courier, as they spend most of their time answering questions like "do you have an off switch?"
Craig Boone He doesn't think much of the strange man who'd just tried to ambush the courier, even in spite of the odd outfit that was surely far too warm for someone to be wearing in the middle of the desert. It's only when the courier appears shaken up and Boone finds some kind of component when looting the man that he thinks to question anything. The courier is dismissive at first and says that they simply just got caught off guard by the assailant, of course, Boone doesn't believe them but he doesn't see the point in pushing. When the courier inevitably tells him, it doesn't change much for him, he'll naturally be curious at to how the courier's existence is even possible, but as long as they're still willing to take the Legion down with him, he doesn't care what they are.
Cass Similarly to Boone, the revelation of the courier not being as human as they seem doesn't particularly bother her. She'll probably make a couple of jokes here and there, usually ones that the courier has heard a million times before. It doesn't make any difference to Cass though, sure, it's a little weird but she'd seen weirder just by minding her own business at the Mojave Outpost.
Lily Bowen She's fully aware that she's in no place to judge the courier for what they are and she makes that clear the moment that her companion reveals they're a synth. It doesn't necessarily change anything about the courier for her and if anything, she encourages them to talk about what they went through at the Institute, so long as they feel comfortable telling her. She'll remind them that she's still their grandma and she loves them no matter what.
Raul Tejada When you're around for long enough, you hear a lot, specifically whispers of robots posing as humans in the East, spying for their masters and replacing innocent people. Of course, none of that ever sounds like more than old myth to Raul. That is until a run in with what the courier later explains is a courser leaves Raul to deal with a revelation about his new friend. Admittedly, it's a lot for him to take in, especially after hearing so many bad things about synths for so long, but eventually, he figures nobody would want to make a synth replacement of him and if he's been able to trust the courier for this long, then surely he still can.
Veronica Santangelo Being a Brotherhood Scribe, Veronica knows quite a bit about the Institute already, but since hardly any of her fellow comrades have actually gone to the Commonwealth, her knowledge is limited. Still, it causes some uncertainty when the courier tells her the truth about their identity. She's only ever heard bad things about synths and this does seem like the definition of technology gone out of hand. It takes Veronica a while to warm up to the idea that her friend isn't going to bring her or anyone else any harm, but it'll take a bit longer that it would the others to earn back her trust.
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