#song: Hot Gates

[coffeenonsense]

this year really was just like "well how many hot queer vampires CAN you be obsessed with" and then didn't wait for an answer even at all

#and i think that's beautiful #we are absolutely drowing in hot queer vampire content as god intended and it's an absolute blessing #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #alucard tepes #olrox #silver under nightfall #zidan malekh #xiaodan song #dowry of blood #iwtv #interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #armand #the vampire armand #the vampire chronicles

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 11)

In this Astarion gets scolded by a dwarf (naturally he hates it) and Tav and Astarion have to run from the police, because ACAB, amirite? (All Cityguards Are Beautiful) Also they really can't seem to catch a break...

There can only be one song for this: Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

“Are we being kicked out?”, you asked the dwarf flabbergasted. “How rude and after we played circus monkeys for you”, Astarion immediately added and clicked his tongue.

“Nay, lass, it is nah that”, the dwarf answered and doubling over again trying to get some air in his lungs. Astarion looked quizzically at him and raised a pale eyebrow. “It’s the cityguard, they’ve been asking ‘bout ye. They’re already swarming in downstairs. Don sent me to find ye, he’s tryna hold their captain off by the entrance.” You turned to Astarion with shock in your eyes – would this night never end with all its damn surprises? The vampire looked just as shocked as you.

“Now, stop starin’ at each other, get outta here, come on”, the dwarf hurried you and waved for you to follow. “Maybe we can sneak ye out while Don is talking to ‘em. Gods, I always knew it’d be a bad idea to have no back entrance.” You swallowed but quickly went to follow him. So did Astarion.

You let the dwarf go a few steps ahead so you could lean back to the vampire while walking along the corridor. “Do you think this is about you showing Miyena and Eodin… you know?”, you whispered to him. “I don’t know but I don’t intend to find out”, he answered dryly.

“Did they say why exactly they were looking for us?”, you raised your voice to ask Kirin while rushing behind him. The dwarf threw you a look over his shoulder that asked if you were an imbecile and he actually even stopped walking. “Yeah, lass, of course. I brewed ‘em a nice cuppa and then we braided each other’s beards while talking ‘bout it. NAY! Of course, they did not!” Kirin was outraged and helplessly threw his hands in the air: “I don’t know and I don’t know what ye might’ve done to deserve it and I don’t want to know. All I do know, is, that there’s gonna be trouble. If they find ye, there’s gonna be trouble and if they don’t find ye there will probably be even more. We aren’t exactly popular with the city officials so they gonna take up any excuse they can get to annoy us.” Your brows furrowed at that and Astarion asked: “Thankful as I am for it, but why exactly are you trying to sneak us out then if you could just hand us over?”

The dwarf had already reached for the handle of the door that would lead back to the gallery. He sighed defeatedly and turned around once more, putting his hands on his hips: “Come here, elf, if ye please.” Astarion surely didn’t look inclined to do anything of the sort. “I said come ‘ere, boy!”, Kirin said through gritted teeth and curled a finger at Astarion. That made the vampire cautiously step closer, on his face a mix of distrust and disgust. Kirin angrily waved him to bow down to which Astarion reacted only begrudgingly. When they were almost nose to nose, the dwarf spoke, spittle flying from his mouth and hitting Astarion who’s eye twitched murderously: “Let’s get one thing very clear, little elven lordling, or whatever ye might be. I am nah doing this for ye!“ He stuck one stubby finger towards Astarion’s face. “I’m only doing this for ye lassie here. Because. I. Don’t. Like. Ye. Pretty Boy!” H  He  

Astarion’s whole being screamed murder. You remembered a certain threat he had offered regarding the dwarf’s nicknames for him and quickly dragged him back towards you by a handful of his shirt. “Let’s just go, please”, you begged the both of them. The men stared at each other a moment longer then Kirin broke it off and waved you to go. The elf wiped his face off by rubbing his upper arm against his face, still wearing a disgusted facial expression. Then he looked at you as if asking for pity. “Knock it off, Astarion”, you simply told him and went after Kirin.

There still were plenty of people on the gallery and in the tavern as a whole. But you could quickly make out several men and women in silver armour prancing about the place. Most prominently at the entrance was the supposed captain of the group of guards in argument with Don. It wasn’t hard to make out that they were arguing quite intensely – you could hear their voices but not what they said. As the three of you were walking downstairs while trying to look inconspicuous you saw the captain wave an order to two of his men who immediately propped up their halberds towards Don’s face. The bouncer lifted his arms in defence.

You had arrived at the bottom of the stairs and Kirin motioned you to follow him, walking mostly along the walls of the big room. You tried to bypass the guests and tables and especially the guards that had spread out downstairs. While slowly but steadily passing through the crowd you noticed how Astarion swiftly picked up a cloak from behind someone’s seat and in one smooth movement threw it around his shoulders. He lifted the hood over his telltale white curls and then softly nudged you to walk between him and the wall so he could try and also hide you with the cloak.

As you came closer to the entrance you could finally make out the discussion going on between Don and the captain of the city guard. “Drop the act! Tell me where they are or watch me and my guards tear through every crevice of this shithole”, the captain just screamed at the bouncer. You were almost at the entrance through which people walked in and out of the establishment. Trying to not raise any suspicion you lowered your gaze and moved closer to Astarion – just a pair of lovers passing by.

“What damned act, I’ve been trying to tell...”, Don was just about to say as the guard crossed his arms over his armoured chest, obviously done with his opponents excuses. His eyes wandered while zoning out from the bouncer’s words… and that’s when he spotted you when you tried to sneak a cautious look. The captain’s head perked up as he saw you and he immediately raised a hand: “Hold, you there! With the red hair! I can see you you know.” You cursed under your breath and gritted your teeth. “Shit”, you heard Astarion say beside you. He stopped and immediately also dropped the hood trying to seem as honest and innocent as possible. Kirin disappeared into the crowd once more having failed his escort quest.

You opted to act surprised, looking at the guard in confused fashion and pointing a finger at yourself in a “Who? Me?” sort of way. “Yeah yeah, you, don’t look so surprised, you little dipshit. Are you Tav?” Astarion immediately hissed at him for calling you names and taking a step in front of you. But you grabbed him by his elbow and took a step forth yourself. “I don’t know, depends on who’s asking. For example, for someone calling me ‘little dipshit’ the name’s ‘kiss my goddamn arse’”, you said and smiled sickly-sweet at him. You knew that it was a terrible idea for you to piss of the city guard but you’ve just about had it for the night.

Astarion snickered softly beside you, earning him a more than displeased and with the wave of two fingers two halberds pointing at his face. The vampire rolled his eyes and mumbled something about the state of humour in this city.

The captain sauntered closer to you, you nervously already thought about how you could possibly get out of this situation. When the guard stood directly in front of you so that the silver of his breastplate shone in your face, he spoke down to you. You could see that he was human – and quite a lot taller than you, at least one head and broad-shouldered too. You also saw that only his chest was covered by plating.

“For the formalities’ sake: I am Captain Gerrit of the Third Division of the Lower City Guard. Now you know, now tell me who you are!”, he ordered. You raised your chin at him defiantly and crossing your arms not letting yourself be impressed by his display of rank. “What’s it to you, Captain Gerrit of the so and so?”, you pressed him further. Gerrit’s eyes narrowed at you, you could see that his patience with you was fading. You heard Astarion chuckle again behind you, then wince: “Ouw, keep those away from me, as far as I know, laughing still hasn’t been outlawed, yet.” “Watch it, elf”, Gerrit spat toward him then he focused on you again, angling his head. “Oh nothing really, only that I’d be taking you into custody if you happened to be that Tav”, he answered. “Because if you were that Tav, I know you’d belong to a band of thieves I’ve been looking to capture for the better part of a year.” “And who told you that?”, Astarion chimed in and stepped closer to you despite the weapons pointed at him. He curved around them and stood directly behind you and stared up at the captain who was also at least half a head taller than the rogue. “A tiefling woman with a, dare I say, severe case of resting bitch face and a whimpering man that looked like a beaten puppy? Because may I tell you they have been pestering us the whole evening and of course they’d tell y…”, Astarion went on but was interrupted by Gerrit now being very annoyed at the both of you and lifting a hand in harsh motion that even prompted the vampire to shut up. You felt your time to act was running out…

“You are indeed correct”, the captain offered from behind gritted teeth “and I also happen to know that they were also part of your little band of thieves and they are already in custody. And so are you two go…”

Time was up. With all the force you could muster you lifted your knee to kick the bastard in the balls. Gerrit simply hmpfed and was sent to his knees.

Astarion didn’t lose a moment, whirled the stolen cloak around the two other guards who were still pointing their weapons at him but could only react with shock. He had them wrapped up as if they were wearing an oversized scarf and then tugged on the ends to make their heads in their shiny helmets clank against each other. They went down as well and you both turned to fucking run.

You stumbled through the crowd, pushing people out your way, without a word agreeing to try and make it to the balcony again. You raced directly to the stairs while Astarion had to take detour to dodge the swipe of another halberd and then was blocked by another guard. But instead of trying to fight him, Astarion leapt for the table next to the guard, placed his hands flat on it and swung his legs over it in a swift athletic motion. At the staircase to the gallery another guard was just about to block your way, screaming “Stop!” at you. But he was kicked in the knee pits and also received a mug of beer over his head once it was in reach for his assailant – Kirin. “Don’t touch the lass!“, the dwarf screamed viciously as the guard fell on his face.

“Thanks”, you shouted to him passing by and racing up the steps. Even Astarion mustered a wink for the dwarf and then ran after you. You made it to the balcony without further interruption. By the noise you had heard behind you, you had precious moments until your assailants would even reach the gallery.

“The dwarf grows on me”, Astarion said breathlessly. You simply waved in agreement, trying to catch your breath. “And also”, Astarion continued, gasping for air “Tav Hammerknee strikes again, it seems.”

You didn’t even have it in you anymore to react to his audacity, so you just went to the railing to look down. “It’s a bit of a drop, but after everything… I think we can make it. Although I almost broke my neck one time trying to get down there…” Astarion walked up next to you and looked down as well: “From this height? Darling, I guess you can be happy your career as a thief is over you must’ve been terrible at it.” And with these loving parting words he climbed over the railing and let himself hang from the bottom edge of the balcony before letting go and landing elegantly in a deep crouch before standing up again.

He dusted some invisible lint off his shirt then looked up at you: “Easy.” Asshole. “I’ll have you know that the last time I was blackout drunk”, you spat back. “So barely worse than tonight.” You snorted at that and started to climb over the railing, copying his moves.

“I’ll catch you, love, don’t worry. I won’t let this be the end after everyth…” You had already let yourself drop into his open arms. The sudden impact drew all the air from his lungs, but he did safely catch you.

“Gotcha”, he whispered and slowly put you down. Then he tried to sort out the mess your hair had become. “Well, running from the city guard certainly was a first time for me.” “Aww, I love when I can be there for your first times, Astarion“, you cooed at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. He looked positively done with you.

“Let’s just go home?”, he asked you with a smile. “Let’s!”

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of song and laughter #acab #the way he jumped over the table? #that was hot

[dollyllama108]

I've been mulling over how to write Wyll

And have come up with all sorts of ideas in my rewrite to elevate his story: putting him in the hot seat so his final choice has some weight to it, exploring the impact it would have on one's personality to be a monster hunter in a world where the best option is not always the most obvious, having him start to develop and nurture some creative talent in order to process his feelings, having him do his charming little chuckle at everything and only realize later how mean his companions are being to Gale, brooding about his appearance at Karlach and having it not land at all with her.

And then I realized I was just writing Tobey Maguire Spider-Man making his bangs emo.

Which is the funniest damn shit anyone saw in 2007. I am totally ready for this.

#cruciferous chronicles #wyll ravengard #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #they did wyll dirty #but don't worry #he is gonna walk around in his lil hot topic camp clothes with his lil leather wristband and then ad lib over songs

[josephtrohman]

i think i’m officially feeling okay!!! spiral over now i can say: paramore was AMAZINGGGG one of the best live shows i’ve ever seen!!!!!! and also i loved getting to see foals as the opener bc i’ve listened to them (casually)for many years!!!!

#i fell more in love with taylor and zac and hayley which didn’t know that possible #especially taylor cuz we were RIGHT in front of him <3 #ok and about foals: #mountain at my gates might be top 20 songs ever for me!!! #ALSO the lead singer of foals is hot. sorry.

[3bagshotrow]

middle-earth dashboard simulator

🏵 hobbitc0re Follow

pippin was 29 years old???

🏵 hobbitc0re Follow

he should've been at the green dragon

( 420 notes )

📸 daily-middle-earth-photos Follow

#gates of argonath #argonath #amon hen #middle earth landscapes #photographers of middle earth #travel #dark academia #lmao pls reblog this i almost fell out of my boat taking this photo

( 79 notes )

🦢 elfposting Follow

my hungry ass could never travel with lembas

( 9,839 notes )

🐟 sojuicysweet Follow

.

#the entitlement i see on this site sometimes is disgusting #y'all will just post about having easy access to lembas when we can't eats hobbit food??? #we must starve??? #vent #do not rb

( 3 notes )

🗡 shieldmaiden Follow

CALLOUT FOR GRIMA WORMTONGUE

I've talked a lot about this already on this blog, but I want to have everything collected in one post so next time some dipshit with a white hand icon slides into my inbox to call me a liar I can just link to this post. tl;dr grima wormtongue has been poisoning my uncle and the land of rohan for the past few years, and here are the receipts:

Keep reading

( 38 notes )

🧙‍♂️ bignaturals Follow

i stg if one more of you tells me I should've sent frodo on the eagles I'm asking iluvatar to take me back

( 1,930 notes )

📖 booknerdofbree Follow

recent read: there and back again: a hobbit's tale by bilbo baggins

I thought this was SOOO fun and cute! I'm usually not into rpf but did anyone else think there was something between bilbo and thorin? 👀 I can't be the only one who saw it. but the ending made me cry my eyes out.

4.5/5 stars

#booklr #there and back again #bilbo baggins #recent read #dark academia #light academia #book review

( 12 notes )

🌲 elvenking69 Follow

who up mirking they wood

( 58,274 notes )

🐛 manofsirith Follow

wtf the new king of gondor just bowed to these four random short guys?? everyone else bowed too and I just went along with it lmao 😅 am I missing something????

#this is right after he sang a song and made out with some hot elf chick #truly the wildest coronation i've ever been to

( 85 notes )

🥵 firstagebaddiebracket Follow

ULTIMATE HOTTEST FIRST AGE BADDIE TOURNAMENT FINALS!!!!

🔘 haldir-deactivated30190303

here y'all go again pitting two bad bitches against each other

🌀 aragornsbigtoe Follow

🌊 helcaraxebaby Follow

everyone who voted galadriel is a kinslayer apologist #luthiensweep

( 4,271 notes )

🔥 beaconboi Follow

fuck my job so much. everyone manifest an attack on gondor so I can finally warm my fingers on this beacon fire.

🔥 beaconboi Follow

by eru this can't be happening

( 38,386 notes )

#please clap #lotr #lord of the rings #silmarillion #dashboard simulator #post simulator #mp

[meiieiri]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: in which toji notices how you color-code your outfit every time you see each other…and promptly makes a game out of it in hopes it will cure his gambling addiction.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: colors | outfit inspos | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: 18+, suggestive themes at the end (explicit sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation), but otherwise, just a fluffy/semi-angst/semi-crack scenario of a lovestruck toji trying to cure his gambling addiction~~

Chewing on his pen, Toji’s fangs were beginning to hurt as he stares at the blank face of a random receipt he found in his mostly empty wallet. He seems to be deep in thought, he almost looks like he’s trying his best to crack a mathematical mystery except…he doesn’t give a shit about math and the only mystery he seems to be interested in cracking is…

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late!”

“Fuck.”

There you were in all your radiant magnificence eagerly waving to him from the university gates with your signature gummy smile he’s grown to love so much. You looked so beautiful and happy today…and you were wearing purple. A purple floral wrap dress. He was so sure you were gonna be wearing pink today Toji crosses out today’s date and the word: pink next to it with a frustrated “X”.

And in case anyone was wondering, this little guess-the-color-his-girlfriend-is-wearing-today game is something he came up with on a whim one day while waiting to pick you up after class. Of all the misfortune that has befallen him in his life, he has to thank the Zenin clan for one thing: sparing him the trouble of having to sit through an entire day of brain-frying university lectures about Kant’s second law of physics.

He hurriedly buries the receipt in his back pocket as he crosses the street, closing the twenty-five meter gap between the two of you. Pressing his lips against yours, Toji hums appreciatively when he tastes his favorite strawberry-flavored lip tint on your Cupid’s bow. You giggle as you nuzzle his nose when he pulls away, your hot breaths against one another’s lips providing a sense of comfort to you both. “What were you saying a while ago?”

“Ah, nothing.” Toji places a protective hand around your waist as the two of you walk to the nearby park for your and his usual after class/work stroll. “Just the usual profanity.”

Your lips curl into a soft pout at the thought of your boyfriend being upset about something. “Why?”

“Nothing babe,” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders. “Just lost at the boat races again,” he easily comes up with a white lie — a white lie that is bound to make you sad. He knows how upset you get when he relapses into his gambling addiction which, in his defense, he really is trying to quit for his and your — mostly your — sake. “Ah, I’ll do better, squirt. ‘m sorry.”

“Please?” you plead with him softly to which he nods, softly pinching your cheek in a silent promise to try to limit his gambling to…

…Getting tomorrow’s color right.

The next day, Toji spends about fifteen minutes in the shower trying to figure out what color you’d be wearing today. He’s already ruled out the possibility of you wearing black since it’s thirty degrees outside today, but with your extensive wardrobe, crossing out one color from the list is hardly enough to narrow it down. He’s never felt like this with boat races before since he has this natural tendency to just pick the boat with the most stable engine.

Ah, who was he kidding? He’ll just have to guess…and hope for the best, he steps out of the shower a few minutes of deliberation later.

After putting on a black shirt, he looks at his makeshift gambling ticket on the kitchenette counter with an angry look on his face. “Red. It has to be red.” He jots it down next to today’s date in red ink as if to manifest you’ll wear your off-shoulder red top today and those black trousers you bought from that thrift store in Harajuku last week.

Suddenly, a knock rips through the silence of his apartment and he goes to immediately answer the door. Toji clasps his hand around the doorknob for a bit, somehow still intent on delaying the inevitable. “Toji? The bags are getting kinda heavy,” you sheepishly called from the other side of the door and your boyfriend instantly snaps out of it. He swings the door open a little too aggressively that it makes you jump a bit when you hear the ear-splitting screech of the hinges nearly coming off the door. “Ah…hi, babe?”

You don’t know what to make of Toji’s face.

It’s like he’s feeling an odd mix of emotions all piled into one that they somehow cancelled each other out and now, he’s…staring at you…blankly. You have to admit, it looks a little funny. It’s not his usual stoic expression, it’s just pure…nothingness…like he caught a glimpse of the void or something and he can’t peel his eyes away from it.

“Can I come in—?”

“—Hi.”

“Eh?”

You burst out laughing at his delayed response. It’s like your boyfriend buffered for a full minute there which is so unlike him, considering he’s always so smoothly unbothered and suave in his demeanor. Toji scowls when you place a hand over his forehead. “You feeling okay?”

Toji gently shrugs your hand away, nodding absentmindedly. “Fine.” That sounded awfully peachy but you didn’t mind, Toji’s normally so awkward anyway, unbeknownst to most. In the eyes of those who don’t know him, Toji’s image is nothing short of a big, bad delinquent, but in your eyes, you mostly associate him with a typical house cat — quiet and snooty in every regard but actually genuinely affectionate. “Oh, let me help you with those.” He crouches down to help you with the groceries, sneakily stealing a kiss from you as you remove your shoes at the genkan before stepping into the living room.

Toji watches as you bound over to his apartment’s balcony, searching for the stray cat that normally drops by in the afternoon, with a grimace on his face.

“Of course she’s wearing beige,” he grumbles under his breath. Again, he crosses out today’s entry a little more forcefully this time.

At the balcony, you find Toji’s pet emeritus lounging away at the foot of the laundry rack. “Oh, there you are!” You crouch down and pet the white cat whom Toji affectionately refers to as ‘Yuki’ when he thinks you aren’t listening in whenever he feeds it after dinner. “You look like you could use a warm bath, come on!” You gently pick up the little creature and bring her inside. “Toji, I found Yuki~!”

You stop in your tracks when you see Toji with his forehead pressed to the cold marble counter causing you to instinctively place a comfort hand on his upper back to placate him while Yuki climbs atop the counter. At the familiarness of your touch, Toji, who looks like he’s still upset over some unknown thing he won’t tell you, rights his posture. What’s a man gotta do to get a winning streak around here?

“Hey, maybe you should lie down…”

“…I’m okay,” Toji half-whimpers, defeated, gaping at Yuki as she licks her paw contentedly. “Huh. You brought the fleabag in here?”

Somehow offended by that, Yuki violently hisses at him.

Okay, something is seriously wrong with Toji.

You just came out from using the washroom to see Toji on the kotatsu agitatedly scribbling on a piece of paper that doesn’t exactly look like a betting stub. You surmised it would have been something like that since Toji doesn’t normally get angry over anything except losing money on bets, but you are thoroughly surprised and comforted to see that wasn’t the case this time around. You sit down next to him, pulling your big baby into an embrace.

“My poor baby,” you teased amid Toji’s obvious misery. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” you smiled softly when he playfully pushes you down onto the tatami mats, all his weight pinning you down, his hand easily overwhelming yours as he pins them above your head. You try to squirm away from him, laughing when his other hand secures your hip to the floor, rendering you unable to struggle against him. Then, he lowers his lips close to your ear, his warm breath sending goosebumps to appear all over your skin, he sighs, falling slack at the crook of your neck.

Toji hates this, he probably looks like a kicked dog right now.

Today’s bet was yellow but when you opened the door to your apartment, you were wearing a mint green sweater over your cream relaxed fit ankle pants.

“Why can’t I do it? Why can’t I just win for once?” Toji’s voice is muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. Instantly, you feel a pit form in your stomach. You’ve heard this before. You slowly push him off of you, your disappointment palpable in the way you utter your next words.

“Toji, you’ve been…gambling again, haven’t you? Baby, we talked about this.”

Your lover steadies the movements of his chest, feeling the need to defend himself. He wasn’t gambling, quite the contrary really, the thought of wandering over to the horse races hasn’t crossed his mind since he started this harmless little game. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and every so often, he relapses into these undertones of his gambling addiction particularly the crippling desire to win at least once, to guess just one daily color scheme right.

And he’ll let it go. He swears he’ll let it go.

“I know, but really, babe, I’m not—“

“—Really? Then, what’s this?” You shakily point to the folded up piece of paper on the kotatsu. He has to pinch himself to hold in his laughter when he sees just how cutely distressed you are over an unassuming crepe stall receipt. “Don’t you start laughing now!” You swat his arm.

“I’m not laughing, you brat!” Toji purses his lips together, thoroughly enamored by you right now. “You’re worrying over nothing, Y/N. Trust me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pushing Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you. You cheeky little brat. “But you’re acting so weird though…” You poke him relentlessly on the cheek to get him to come clean, and you dodge whenever he tries to playfully catch your index finger with his teeth. “Just tell me.”

“Nope.”

You climb onto his lap, hugging him.

“Please.”

A kiss is a good bribe right?

“Uh-uh.”

He returns the kiss with a loud smooch!

“I’ll break up with you.”

You whine when he flicks your forehead, leaving an obvious red mark on it.

“You won’t.”

Your little back and forth is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Sighing, you finally let go of him. Looks like he isn’t going to budge. Toji gets up to answer the door, setting you down on the cushioned seat. Feeling a little bad when he glances back to see you still sulking about the issue, he subtly and intentionally allows the receipt to fall from his pocket knowing you’ll almost certainly go straight for it. He’ll just have to deal with your constant teasing for the next two weeks once you read the contents of the slip of paper. But he’d rather hear you laughing your heart out (even if it’s at his expense) than see you getting all anxious about him slipping back into his old destructive hobbies.

When you see the piece of paper falling like a leaf dancing in the wind, your eyes light up, and you crawl over to the spot where it’s fallen near the small bookshelf you have in the corner.

“Rakuten delivery.” Toji signs the courier’s clipboard, receiving your package. Just as he’s about to walk back into the living room to hand you your parcel, he stops in his tracks when he hears your cute chortles which you’re pathetically trying to subdue and a smirk appears on the corner of Toji’s lips.

Looks like the crisis has been averted for now.

“Wait, Toji…”

Toji pretends to not hear you, his fingers still buried in your sopping cunt, lusciously pushing in and out, your arousal coating his fingertips as he devours your lips in wanton need. You moan out his name again and he scowls when you reluctantly remove his fingers from your heat. “What? What is it?” What could possibly be so important?

You flush when he sensually licks his fingers clean, and you sit up, pulling down your skater skirt. “What’s an anniversary without a little surprise?” You kissed him on the lips, lingering for a bit, your eyes fluttering close as you taste your arousal on his tongue. “Mmh…”

“Just forget it.” Toji bucks his hips against yours, his clothed erection rubbing against your bare slit.

“No way. Just…wait here,” you kiss him again, boldly running your tongue over his bottom lip before pulling away and heading to the bathroom to get your surprise ready.

Toji groans in frustration, his head hitting the pillows he set down on the futon. After a few restless moments of him resisting the urge to fuck his hardened cock into his hand to finish himself off, he hears your melodious voice calling for him from down the hall.

A satisfied lopsided smirk appears on Toji’s lips, his eyes dark as he gazes at the most beautiful being in the world right now, shyly making her way towards him wearing nothing but an emerald silk robe. He licks his lips when he sees the outline of your nipples through the fabric, smirking as you sit down on the foot of the futon.

“All that for a silly little robe? What a letdown,” Toji smirks as he moves to untie the knot of your robe, only for you to slap his hand away.

“Uh-uh…you have to guess first.”

Toji gulps when you pull out the one thing he’s been agonizing over for the last few weeks from your robe’s hidden pocket. You grab a pen from the nearby bookshelf which he expertly catches when you throw it in his direction alongside the crumpled up piece of paper he’d been meaning to destroy for a while now.

“If you guess right, we could ditch the condom tonight. So do well,” you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

Toji looks like he wants to jump off a ditch, the obvious tent in his sweatpants indicating just how hard he is right now. “No, don’t do this. Don’t fucking do this, Y/N…”

“…What color am I wearing tonight?”

#—​𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 🍓 #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji imagine #toji headcanons #toji drabbles #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji zenin x reader smut #toji zenin x y/n smut #toji zenin smut #toji zenin x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk drabbles

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

��� warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #charlie #vaggie #husk #angel dust #sir pentious #nifty #x reader #headcanons

[skbeaumont]

"Make Me Wanna" | Jackson!Joel x Reader oneshot

Song: Make Me Wanna - Thomas Rhett Summary: Joel fucks you in the back of a truck. That's literally it. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, porn with a smattering of plot, smut, PIV, dirty talk, pets names (baby, darling), kind of dom!Joel, established relationship, Jackson era Word Count: 3.2k A/N: As always, the lyrics have been worked into the story, so if you can listen please do!

There are two working vehicles in Jackson. The school bus – a large van that serves as transport for the kids in the winter, when the paths freeze over and the snow falls too thick to walk through – and a ’75 Chevy Cheyenne. It’s the keys to this that Tommy hands Joel one early morning, the dry Wyoming summer heat already pushing the mercury up into the eighties.

The rest of the town are still asleep, but you, Joel, and Tommy are outside in the square, your conversation chorused by the call of the town’s raggedy old rooster. Joel’s having trouble concentrating on his brother’s instructions, his eyes flicking like the hands on a clock to the way the dress you pulled on this morning clings to your ass and hips, the thin cotton leaving very little to his imagination.

He’s sure you’ve done it on purpose; there can be no other reason to wear such an impractical outfit when you’re heading out beyond the wall. Sure, it’s an easy run – up to the dam, check everything’s in order, head back – but Joel’s not sure how he’s even going to make it there with you in that ridiculous damn dress, curves calling out to him. It makes him wanna-

“Joel, are even you listening?” Tommy’s voice cuts through his reverie, has him shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it of flies.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What was the last thing I just said?”

“Uh,”

Tommy rolls his eyes and Joel looks at you for help, but you just smile at him innocently with dimples in your cheeks, batting your eyelashes like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Jesus Joel, can’t you concentrate for two minutes?”

Tommy relaunches into his lecture about the dam and the route, and Joel tries to pay attention to the words, tries to ignore the way you’re gliding a single finger across the small of his back, hand dipping under his shirt to reach the hot skin there. It’s such an innocent gesture, the pad of your finger caressing him gently, without urgency, but it sends electricity coiling up his spine.

For your part, it’s all you can do not to jump him here and now. Tommy’s early morning wakeup call disturbed what was shaping up to be a very pleasant morning in bed with Joel, and there’s an insistent warmth in your belly at the memory of his rough stubble on the back of your neck as you lay together in bed not an hour ago. You’re wondering how far you can push him, how riled up he’ll have to be before he sacks in this run and takes you back to bed.

Finally convinced that Joel’s taken on board at least some of what he’s said, or perhaps fed up of trying to talk to him while he’s clearly so distracted, Tommy leads you both to an old barn where the vehicles are kept. The chevvy is a faded, sun-bleached red: a worn leather front bench up front, large enough for three or four people to sit in a line, with an open bed in the back. You climb into the cab next to Joel, shuffle yourself over so that you’re almost in his lap where he sits at the wheel.

“Wanna explain what this is about?” He asks as he starts the engine, gesturing to the dress with his free hand.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, and you can hear him rolling his eyes, hear the tight, whispered Jesus Christ as he shifts the truck into gear.

It’s a slow drive through Jackson; the narrow streets aren’t built for vehicles. Joel steers the truck around the chicken coops and picnic benches, taking you to the front of town where the gates are. Here, the watchers on the duty lever open the corrugated metal wall that separates Jackson from the wilderness outside, and Joel guides the truck through.

You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time outside the walls since your arrived in Jackson some four months ago, but even so, you find it hard to take in the countryside and wide, rolling hills with Joel sat next to you, his warm hand on your thigh. You trace patterns across the back of his hand, follow the lines of old scars and new scratches, let your fingertips trail higher, up to his bare wrist, over the prominent veins that sit just beneath his tan skin.

“I know what you’re doin’” He says, voice dark as he squeezes your thigh in his grip, a warning you’re bound to ignore.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You repeat, letting go of his wrist to lean across in your seat, reaching for the glove box. You pull it open.

“Aha!” A cassette tape falls out into your hand, writing blurred with age but still legible. “County Sound FM.”

You slide it into the old cassette player set in the dash, hold your breath as it cracks and pops and then starts playing.

“Is this…” Joel turns his head slightly, angling so that the gentle rhythm and rolling melody can reach his good ear. “R.E.M.?”

“Man on the Moon,” You confirm, looking at the track listing on the cassette.

“Jesus.” He says, shaking his head.

He takes a right at the end of the main track up to Jackson, down a dirt road that’s overhung with dense trees. You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with grey. His jaw is set, but he’s nodding along with the music. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

“You gotta stop looking at me that way, baby,” He says, shifting the fabric of your dress so that he can drag his hand further up your leg, the heat of his palm almost feverish against you.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher still and then turn into him, press you lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans where he’s already half hard.

“You know there’s only so much I can take,” His voice is gruff against the lightness of the country song. “You make me wanna…”

He trails off and you huff a laugh against his collarbone, move your mouth to his ear so that you can say, “make you wanna what, Joel?” into it.

“Pull this truck to the side of the road, for a start.” He says, turning his head to look at you.

His eyes are dark, expression serious, a frown creasing his brow. The hand he’s got on the steering wheel is gripping it tight, knuckles white against the dark leather of the grip. You can see the tension in his shoulders, his thighs when he shifts as you run the flat of your hand against his cock.

“If you don’t stop,” He says, voice catching in his throat, “I’m gonna- fuck, darlin’, Jesus Christ.”

He breaks off as you slip your hand suddenly under the waistband of his jeans, wrist barely squeezing between the buckle of his belt and his stomach. His cock jerks against your hand, smearing precum across your knuckles as you fight against the tight denim. “Gonna what?” You ask again, wrapping your fist around his cock, letting your thumb run over the silky tip of him. “Pull the truck over? Go on then.”

The truck veers to one side, brakes squealing out as Joel brings it to a stop at the side of the road, tree branches scratching against the windows.

“Slide on over, then,” He says, turning into you, leaning back and opening his legs so that you can climb into his lap.

His gaze is hot and hard and animalistic as you settle against him. You reach between your heaving chests to paw at the button to his jeans but he grabs your wrists, grins at you, eyes glinting.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” He says, wrapping two solid arms around and pulling you flush to his chest, mouth resting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking.”

He buries his mouth at your throat, licks and sucks and nips at the tender flesh there, kneads your ass with his hands.

“I think you’re an impatient little thing who needs to learn some manners,” He says, his voice thick, “and I think I’m gonna take you to the back of this track and fuck you on the tailgate. How does that sound?”

He barely gives you a chance to answer, just tucks your dress out of the way so that he can reach down between your ass cheeks to the wet line of your panties, following the crotch round over your cunt to the hard nub of your clit, already swollen and throbbing under his ministrations.

“Joel, please,” You whine, as he teases you with two of his fingers, circling your entrance but not breaching it.

“You know better than to wear that dress, baby,” he says into your throat, “Oughta be against the law,”

He pulls back, fists a hand in your hair and drags your mouth to his. The kiss is heated and ferocious from the start; Joel pulls your lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, draws out your keening moans with a clever flick of his tongue.

“I need you, Joel, please,” You say, trying again to undo the button on his jeans.

“Ain’t room in here,” He says, reaching over the pop open his door, “in the back, like I said. C’mon.”

You follow him out and round to the back of the truck. He lets the tailgate fall with a soft clunk, takes his jacket off and spreads it out on the dusty metal of the truck bed.

“Hop on up,” He says, shooting you a grin that’s laced with mirth and heat, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

You do as he says, sitting up on the open tailgate. He steps between your thighs, presses them open with two large hands so that he can fit there. Running one hand up your chest to your breast, he presses his clothed cock against the wet line of your panties, circles his hips so that the rough denim catches against your clit and makes you moan.

When he pulls back he takes your panties off, dragging them down your legs with two fingers before pushing them into the pocket of his jeans. It makes your stomach clench, the sight of them peeking out, the pink lace a stark contrast to the worn dark denim, marking you as his. With them out of the way, Joel wastes no time in pressing two fingers into your soaking cunt, grinning down at you as you yelp at the sudden intrusion. It turns into a whimper as he bends them just so, the calloused pads of his fingertips searching out that tender spot inside that has you curling your toes and clawing at his shoulders.

“There she is,” He says, chuckling darkly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit and applying a steady, gentle pressure.

It’s intoxicating – the firm pressure of his fingers inside you, the sure, confident thrum of his thumb over your clit. It’s like being drunk on no alcohol, just Joel, his breathy sighs and warm scent enveloping you, wrapping you up in a haze of heady desire.

“Gonna come for me, darlin’?” He asks as he feels you start to tense around him.

He trails his free hand along the side of your jaw, drawing your face back to his so that he can kiss you again, swallow down your moans as you jolt and shake against him, the orgasm rising up suddenly in your belly, sending spikes of ecstasy through your quivering cunt.

“Good girl,” He whispers, drawing his fingers out.

He pulls them up to his mouth, places his fingertips against his lush bottom lip and slides his tongue over them, groaning at the taste of you.

“You wear this dress jus’ for me, baby?” He asks, fisting the fabric between his knuckles as he unbuckles his belt, “Know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”

You nod, watching him pull his cock out of the confines of his jeans. He drags the swollen, weeping head against your folds, drawing air in through his teeth as he does, hissing the breath back out.

“Good girl,” He keens, using the fist that’s clutching your dress to drag you forward in the truck bed so that he can line himself up. “Feel how hard I am for you, hmm, baby? Get me so goddamn worked up I can’t think straight.”

He presses the thick length of himself against you, covering his shaft with your slick. He pulls back slightly, places the fat head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, curses through his teeth as he inches inside, a drawn out, breathy “fuck, baby”, that has desire coiling up your spine. A muscle jumps in his jaw as you watch his face, watch his eyebrows pull up as he sinks into you, the slight tilt to his mouth, a steady slow breath pouring out of him with the effort of not slamming into you in one hard thrust.

“Okay?” He asks, holding himself still when he bottoms out, waiting for your confirmation that he can keep going.

“Move, Joel, please, God.”

A chuckle echoes deep in his chest at this, and then he wraps his arms under your thighs, pulls you firmly into him and drags himself out before slamming back inside. He sets a punishing pace. It’s all you can do to grip onto his shoulders, dig your fingernails into the firm muscles of his back and let him fuck you, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. You watch the beads of perspiration rise on his forehead and cheeks, trace them as they roll down his face to his neck, the tendons there straining as he continues to pound into you. He’s quiet, mostly, grunting and cursing in a rasping voice, fuck, that’s it and Jesus Christ, baby.

“Got the softest pussy I’ve ever felt, darlin’.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your forehead, the side of your neck, groaning as he drags his teeth against your jaw, “gripping me so fucking tight.”

A familiar heat is coiling up inside you again, making your stomach clench and your toes curl in the boots you’re still wearing. Joel knows, can tell by the way you squeeze your eyes tight shut, hands gripping his forearms where they hold your thighs up. He changes the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, spikes of pleasure sparking in your cunt right through to the tips of your fingers. You come around his cock, fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his arms, no doubt leaving indents that will mark him as yours when you return to town later.

“That’s it, baby, comin’ all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl.” He presses his lips to yours, licks his tongue into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip, pain blossoming into pleasure.

He slows his thrusts as you come down from your high, dragging his cock against the roof of your cunt and running a hand up your side, over the curve of your hips up to your breast. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, soothes your moans with his mouth on yours, swallowing them as they fall from your lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” He says, picking up the pace again, snapping his hips to yours, fisting his hand into your hair. “Can you give me one more? One more and I’ll come in this perfect cunt, hmm?”

He reaches between your writhing bodies, presses his fingers to the bundle of nerves above where he’s thrusting into you and draws circles over your clit. The pressure is firm and fucking perfect, Joel’s fingers confident and sure in what they’re doing. He knows your body like the back of his hand, has spent hours learning how to make you come. It only takes a few minutes before you feel yourself tightening around his cock again, eyes squeezing shut, but this time he lets go of your thigh with his free hand and grabs your chin.

“Eyes open, baby, I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

And you do, locking your eyes onto his. His pupils are blown wide, eating into the chocolate brown of his irises. His brow is furrowed with the effort of fucking you, making the lines that paint his face stand out. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down one cheek, and he bites his lip between his teeth as you come, cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, good girl” He keeps circling his fingers as you come, drawing out your orgasm, his voice vibrating in your chest. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come. Shit.”

He groans, holding himself still as he spurts inside you, ropes of come painting your cunt as you contract around him. You’re both breathless then, panting and holding each other, your fingers pinching his skin, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You say, suddenly laughing as you realise how reckless you’ve been, out here in the middle of nowhere, Joel’s gun long since forgotten on the back seat of the truck.

“Well, you know better than to wear that dress,” Joel says, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the side of your neck. “You make me wanna…”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #jackson!joel #tlouJackson #SoundCloud

[stevie-petey]

we thought love was something (we weren't meant to find)

﹂ season two of "come home"

as you approach a year since will's disappearance, things seem to be back to how they were. you still have jonathan and the boys, hawkins is boring again, and you and steve harrington aren't really friends. you convince yourself that it's fine, but time can't heal all wounds, and you sure as hell have your fair share of them. when will starts having episodes and your brother hides a literal monster from you, junior year becomes a lot more painful than it already was. (and because you can never win, steve gets dragged into it). (more complicated feelings arise). (as usual).

episode one: MADMAX - what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

episode two: trick or treat, freak - you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

episode three: the pollywog - you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.

episode four: will the wise - jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

episode five: dig dug - you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

episode six: the spy - dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

episode seven: the mind flayer - jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

episode eight: the gate - you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

⌑ set between seasons 2 and 3

﹂ episode nine: the fall - surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

⌑ status: FINISHED

⌑ season two title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #get ready gamers #season two is alllll about steve and the kids #this is the season ive been waiting for <3

[ncteez]

Oh no, he’s hot (k.m.g)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader 

CONTENT― there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, bottom(ish) mingyu, top(ish) reader, desperate smutty stuff,  mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her early 20s (in other words, age gaps be damned, you’re both adults.)

OTHER CHARACTERS― chan is his son and ur just gonna have to deal with that for the sake of having no unnamed characters 

WARNINGS― Mingyu has an internal war over wanting you because his son also wants you. Another thing,  this is entirely consenting, but mingyu does mention to stop and/or wait at one point while clearly acting against his own words. 

NOTE― So uh, this fic is kind of a push and pull between morality and fucking because you’re horny. There’s some backhanded stuff about Chan but ill make it up to him in a future fic, i swear. Anyway, behold, the unedited dilf mingyu fic.

smut tags under cut:: 

― part two here!

smut tags―his brain is between his legs in this fic, BIG DICK MINGYU, grinding(ish), masturbation, handjob, neck kissing/sucking, groping, pet names: babe & sweetheart, face riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (just assume they’re protected somehow at this point), he’s technically the one doing the fucking but he’s very in tune with her pleasure, missionary, g-spot stimulation and deep penetration

~

The first time you met Kim Mingyu was an unfortunate event. One where his son was seeing three of you and four of his dad as you struggled to get him up the steps of the porch. It’s not that Chan purposely stayed out past curfew, and it’s definitely not that he forgot his gate code or his dorm keys, it’s just that he really needed a friend to get him to his dad’s house. It wasn’t out of the way, Chan promised you that, even as you drove a full ten minutes across the city line to get him to safety. At first, you didn’t mind and preferred to spend more time with him anyway, but then it was even more worth the drive. Especially after meeting his father and realizing that he’s, to put it bluntly, just as hot as Chan. If not, more. 

 The second, third, and fourth time you met Kim Mingyu was much the same on the outside. Internally though, each time you met him threw you further and further into a specific thought process. One that felt taboo. You’ve never felt anything towards the parent of a friend, better yet the parent of a crush. Until now, at least, especially with the way Mingyu looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. 

  It’s not that you think Chan’s dad would consider you an option, the smallest possibility of that is definitely not the reason why you volunteer to take his rowdy ass home either. Before it was because you wanted to spend more time with the guy you possibly were trying to date. Now? You won’t admit the reasoning. If anything, it’s because the older man has a kind face and thanks you each time for bringing Chan home to him rather than leaving him on the lawn of some frat house. 

 The fact that all of this started because you had a crush on Chan was insane enough. Now look at you, going to frat parties with him, no longer to get closer per se, but so you can take him to his childhood home despite him not forgetting his dorm keys anymore. 

 It’s the latest you’ve ever brought him this time, nearing four in the morning as you drag his clumsy self up his front porch as he hums the tune to your favorite song at you.

 “I told you,” Chan slurs through his humming, stopping you from knocking on the door and leaning his weight on you even more. “I have my keys this time. Why are we at my dad’s house again?” 

             You shake your head at him, adjusting your body better to accommodate his dead weight on your right side. 

 “Curfew. Do you want to be written up for a noise complaint again?” You look at him, watching him tilt his head and remove himself from your side to stand in front of you in an immaculate show of how uncoordinated he can be. 

 “You take such good care of me,” He slurs again, smiling at you from under his messy fringe and struggling to adjust his eyes to meet yours properly. “Y’know, Soonyoung said you have a crush on me–”

             You cut him off, stepping forward and knocking against the door as loudly as you can to avoid the fact that you might’ve had a crush on him before, and perhaps you still do. It’s just– his dad, y’know? 

 “Why’re you ignoring me?” He smiles again, leaning lazily against the door frame as you knock.

             Honestly, on any other day, you’d probably be blushing. You’d be floored by Chan being so forward toward you, especially in his cute drunken state with his sparkling eyes and stupid messy hair. It’s no wonder you have–had– a crush on him. With a face like that, a voice like that, a body like that, a dad like that. 

 “I’d rather talk about this when you’re sober, Chan.” You deadpan, knocking again and wondering if it’s taking his dad a while to get out of bed because it’s too early in the morning to be handling a drunk son. 

             Chan looks at you for several seconds with his crooked and lazy smile, nodding to you and blinking out of sync. You do think he’s charming, even like this. It’s a shame, really, that you can hear the door unlocking because you probably would have grabbed his face and kissed him at that moment. Mingyu be damned. Even more of a shame that your variable crush on him fizzles out the second you see his father time and time again. 

             Mingyu stands there behind that thin layer of glass with his sweat pants sitting low on his hips, shirt nowhere to be seen, with a face of both disappointment in Chan and sleepy fondness towards you. On instinct, you remember the first time you saw him and every time after that. No matter the change of lighting, time of night, or the way he has his hair– he never looks to be old enough to be Chan’s father. To put it bluntly, Mingyu doesn’t appear to be any older than his mid-twenties. Still, any sane person would be chasing after his son, much like you were but, here you are, wanting nothing more than to chase after the forty-something-year-old father of a cute drunken idiot.  

             Chan watches you stare at his dad but isn’t quite sure if it means anything because his drunken brain is telling him that you’re just tired or something. Still, he leans from the frame and immediately clings to you, his state offering little to hide the feelings he’s grown towards you. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt his nose nuzzle against your neck, with his alcohol-scented breath blowing against the skin there. You struggle to not lean into him. 

             Mingyu opens the door upon seeing Chan acting like a fool in love, much like he would have done at his age in the same state of bliss with a pretty girl by his side. 

 “Chan is very drunk again,” You laugh apologetically, looking away from the Mingyu and feeling Chan’s hands grip your waist as he hugs you. You try not to think too hard about his hands gripping you too, mostly because he’s never actually been this forward or clingy towards you. Truly, if he had done this before meeting Mingyu, and without being absolutely trashed, you’d probably already have asked to be his girlfriend or gone down on him, at the very least. 

  “Should I lead him to the couch?”

             Mingyu nods, looking at you with a gentle smile, well aware of the fact that you bring Chan here for reasons other than giving his son a place to lay his head. He knows Chan keeps his keys on him now, and he’s known since the second time you dropped him off. Especially considering he scolds him every morning after a drunken party, and each time, Chan proves that his keys were with him. He also knows his son well enough to see when he takes a liking to a girl, the issue is that you make it very very obvious that you’re more interested in him rather than Chan. Which is flattering, incredibly cute, equally as dangerous, and such a fucking shame for his son. 

             Here’s the thing. Mingyu is a good person with a stable head on his shoulders. He’s a good father, a hard worker, and a gentle soul, but he gets horny  just like any other man. Unfortunately, when a woman who he finds attractive, even if he swears he isn’t interested, starts throwing signals his way– it’s hard to ignore them and even harder to control himself when he hasn’t so much as gone on a date with another woman in at least a year. Much like his son, maybe he’s taken the tiniest liking to you too. To make himself feel better though, he swears it’s because he’s proud of his son for finding such a pretty girl that puts up with him.

             After all, he would never sleep with a woman that his son is fond of. Even when you look at him the way you do, even when you bend over in front of him for a second too long, making it obvious that you like it when his eyes land on your ass. Mingyu’s got wisdom in terms of bedroom eyes, and he would be terribly mistaken if the way you look at him wasn’t exactly that. It started eating him up inside from the second time you stepped foot in his house, and shamefully– he’s maybe thought about you in ways that he shouldn’t. Not only does Chan seem to be around you a lot, but you’re the same age as his son. 

 Of course, he feels bad. He feels like a pervert and a creep when he finds himself warming up at the way you look at him. Then he thinks hard enough about it to wonder where things could lead if he were to be selfish for once. It’s hard to find you attractive, especially when you appear to make excuses to stare at him. When he’s in his head about it, usually for several hours after you’ve dropped Chan off, he thinks about how you’re both adults and you are not obligated to cater to Chan, nor are you obligated to cater to him. You are a whole person with your own interests, and if your interest happens to be him– and if he happens to take an interest in you too, wouldn’t that just be two consenting adults? The dilemma of Chan liking you is what fucks with his head. 

  Tonight, it’s even worse and it’s becoming more and more difficult to brush you off or avert his eyes. Again, he would not ever sleep with a woman that his son is interested in but, he happens to be a bit touch-starved and you happen to be flaunting yourself at him. So, he’s allowed to at least, like, think about it, right? 

 “Ah,” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck with one hand and takes a step to the side to let you in. His shirtless body warms up when your eyes continuously scan him. You appear more interested each time you come by, and he can’t help but think that this is already reaching dangerous territory. There’s a clear reason why you keep coming to his house, using his son as an excuse to play innocent. 

 “That should be comfortable enough,” he comments in a sleep-shrouded rasp, watching you plop his son down on the couch. He closes the front door and grabs a lap blanket from the back of the couch to throw over him to help get him situated. “More comfortable than the bed in his dorm, I'm sure.” 

 “Ah, his shoes.” You comment to yourself, pulling at Chan’s laces and slipping his shoes off of him before lifting back up and preparing to head to the door. The visit to look at Mingyu is always only five to ten minutes, but you enjoy the ogling session nonetheless. 

 “Hey,” Chan slurs out, reaching out and pulling at your arm. “It’s pretty late, just crash here with me…”

             You stumble a bit, losing your balance and landing against him, but you’re quick to pull yourself back up with a laugh. God, why does he have to be the one with a hot dad? Why couldn’t he have done all of this before? Why do you have to be single and ready to mingle with a man twice your age because of Chan?

             As you stand back to your feet, you look at him as his heavy eyes start to close despite the shenanigans he just pulled. He’s already falling asleep and surely he won’t remember this by morning, so you gently back away with a soft shake of your head before heading for the door and placing his shoes on the rack there.

 “He’s right.” Mingyu manages to say, stepping in front of the door and crossing his arms. He’s a bit unsure of why he’s offering this but ultimately plays it off. It’s not because he’s trying to play cupid and hook you up with his son either. Selfishly, it’s because he wouldn’t mind you staring at him for a bit longer. 

 “It’s already too late, and I’m aware that your campus is a bit of a drive…” He trails off, trying to not act exactly like Chan towards you.

             You pause, noting that you were about to immediately agree despite rejecting his son’s offer. Looking at Mingyu, with his broad shoulders and sharp jaw, you shake your head much like before, hoping that he offers again so you can pretend to not seem so excited. 

 “Maybe I shouldn’t, I still need to shower and I don’t have anything to change into–” You try to make excuses, but he shakes his head, putting his hands out in a defensive kind of way.

 “No, no. I insist. It’s not safe, I’m sure I’ve got something lying around that you can put on for the night, there are extra toothbrushes too.”

             Well, you’re not gonna fucking argue that.

 “Okay,” You offer a soft nod and a smile, stepping away from the door and looking to the floor. You feel elated right now. “Where’s the bathroom then?” 

             Mingyu, for some reason, is trembling as he suddenly feels entirely naked in front of you even with his thick sweatpants covering the bits. He smiles back at you, reaching out as if you should grab his hand. 

             In reality, it was just to be polite but you did grab his hand. He panics a little because your hands are so fucking soft and warm, and god it’s been way too long since he’s looked at a woman this way. Such a fucking shame that Chan likes you, he knows he can’t be thinking like this. 

             Mingyu reluctantly leads you down the hallway to the bathroom, softly and quietly pointing out the towels and extra tooth brushes before stepping out and immediately walking away. You didn’t get to inquire about said pajamas he was going to offer to you, and in all honesty, he definitely forgot the second he realized that he was thinking too hard right now.

             He stands against the closed door of his room until he hears the water in the bathroom start and the shower curtain closing. That’s when he realizes he forgot to get you those fucking pajamas and curses under his breath before rushing out of the room and towards the laundry room. He’s sure he has some of Chan’s clothes here that he’s always leaving behind. 

             Thankfully, he finds a pair of boxers and a ratty old t-shirt stretched out far past its original sizing. He’s sure this will do fine as he hastily grabs them and heads toward the bathroom again.

             He stands outside of the door frozen, unsure of if he should knock or just leave them at the door. His brain is running a mile a minute at how to navigate thinking intimate things about you behind that shower curtain. Naked. The fact that you’ll be putting on his son’s clothes, probably without panties because you appeared to have made a point that you needed to change out of tonight’s clothes– oh god. There it is. There’s the shameful arousal he’s been fighting since the second time you brought Chan home.

             The water turns off after several minutes of him standing there, and he can hear the shower curtain move as you step out and presumably dry off.

             The softest of knocks known to man can be heard on your side of the door and that’s when you, yourself, get pulled out of your thoughts of Mingyu stepping inside this bathroom and wrapping your legs around him. As you look around, you should probably ask about those pajamas, and surely that’s Mingyu on the other side of this door knocking like the most polite man in the universe. 

             It’s dangerous, really. For Mingyu to be feeling this desperate for the touch of an attractive woman, whoever it may be, and you on the other side of this door desperate to touch him. You wonder if he will reject your advances, or if he will at least pick up a hint or two. You wonder if you’re about to put his clothes on you and if you’ll be able to smell him on you when you intentionally go home in them tomorrow after you wake up. 

             You creak the door open, holding the towel loosely against you as you make eye contact with him. You’re confident enough to seduce a man, but seducing Mingyu is new ground for you. Will your usual antics work on an older man? Guess you’ll find out, because right now is a better time than any.

  He’s still shirtless, his sweatpants seem to be sitting lower on his hips now too. You can’t help it when you trail your eyes down, shamelessly taking in his image before meeting his eye again with a sly smile.

             That little smile kind of solidifies it for him. The look on your face is easily recognizable to him, considering he’s seen it time and time again back before he had an entire child with someone. So, he pushes the door open a bit more, smelling the soapy scent of what you used to wash with before immediately taking a step back as you take the clothes from him. It’s not that he wouldn’t step inside and make advances on you, but he’s really trying to control his urges right now. Simply because his son likes you. 

 “They’re Chan’s,” he comments shortly, his own eyes trailing down without intention and watching a water droplet fall from the dip of your shoulder to seep into the towel loosely hiding your chest. “That's all I could find.”

             You watch him stand there, despite having taken a step back from the doorway, he appears to be planted in place without hiding the way his eyes take you in more than they ever have. You’re purposely holding this towel against you in a revealing way for him. So, you’re feeling pretty good that it seems to be working, and he’s even picking up on your energy toward him. 

 “Oh,” you finally say, looking down at the clothes in your hands. “I thought you were going to give me something of yours to wear.”

             Mingyu swallows hard. He was almost going to ask if you’d prefer to wear his clothes, but he controls himself yet again. 

 “Ah, I didn’t want Chan to think anything.”

             You perk up at that comment, playing off of it. 

 “What do you mean?” You ask with a playful tone to your voice. “You’d just be helping me sleep comfortably like a good host.” You smile as you keep eye contact with him now.

 “Ah, well,” He laughs awkwardly with you, now imagining you in his clothes. The arousal only grows at the image of you in one of his old ratty shirts rather than his son’s. This is not okay though, he cannot be thinking these things while you’re less than a foot away from him with just that loose towel covering you.

 You notice his lack of words after that, so you trail your eyes down again to see if you’re truly the only one here considering things to do that Chan would find suspicious. He’s so broad, honestly, he’s big enough that he could trap you against the bathroom counter behind you and have his way with ease. 

 “Are you,” You pause for a moment, narrowing your eyes before glancing up at his eyes again, “turned on?” 

             Mingyu freezes only for a moment before putting his hands in front of himself and turning away from you while whispering a small apology. 

 “Sorry, it’s not intentional,” he goes to say, feeling his cheeks warm up at the fact that you so bluntly asked him such a thing. “I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even finish his sentence before he points to his room with his thumb, rushes down the hallway, and closes the door behind him.

             You’re left standing there in silence with Chan’s clothing in your hands. You slowly back yourself into the bathroom and get dressed with a mischievous smile on your face, opting to leave your clothes in his laundry just to try and be sneaky in order to have a reason to stop by on your own next time. 

             By the time you exit the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you’re left wondering if you should squeeze up against Chan and actually just crash here, or if you should go cause more tension with his dad, who is very clearly still awake in his bedroom because you can hear his television in there. Unsure of if you’ve crossed a line or not, your confidence is at an all time high after seeing him apologize for getting hard while looking at you. Clearly, you’re not tired, definitely not after that. He appears to be taking an interest and yes, you’re gonna see just how interested he is.

             Taking a deep breath, you pad down the hallway and knock gently at his bedroom door. You think up any excuse to give him when he creaks the door open, but thankfully you didn’t have to try too hard.

 “Where should I sleep?” You ask in mock-shyness, rubbing your thighs together and noting that he appears to be slightly out of breath. 

             Mingyu, mid-jerk off session, was not expecting you to actually keep approaching him. He is entirely too weak now, as if he wasn’t already. He still has precum against his palm when he opens his door, and you’re standing there staring up at him with damp skin and his son’s loose ass shirt hanging over your legs– jesus.

 “Um,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking down the hallway and listening for any sound that could indicate his son was awake, “Where ever you want?” He calms himself with the silence, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his bedsheets and release himself of these filthy thoughts of you. 

 “In here then.” You boldly state, pressing a palm against his door and staring directly at the wet spot against his hastily pulled-up sweatpants.

 “Wait, hold on,” Mingyu whispers as he stops you from opening his door any further. “What are you trying to do?” 

             He didn’t expect you to actually answer that question. 

 “I thought I made that obvious?” You admit, now feeling your confidence break a bit because you really thought he was also sending signals. 

 “You did, but I can’t just let this happen.” Mingyu follows up with his own admittance, noting the way your face falls, and instantly he feels fucking bad about it. A face so pretty shouldn’t be looking so defeated by a mere rejection out of pure moral stance, he really shouldn’t say anything more. 

             He watches as you slowly nod, accepting his rejection and preparing to turn around and probably get in your car to go home. Against his better judgment and allowing his weakness to take hold, he speaks up again. 

 “Wait, wait, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” You perk right back up as he talks. “I just– I can’t do that to him.”

 “Do what to him?” You tilt your head at him, lifting your palm back to his door to try and press it open again, shockingly, he lets you this time. “He and I aren’t dating, he’s never even tried anything with me when he’s sober.”

             Mingyu thinks hard about this now, stepping back from his door and knowing for a fact that the moment you step into his room it’s over for him. He didn’t expect you to be like this, but god it’s doing something for him. Are you this forward towards his son, or would you be this forward toward him if he actually made a sober move on you? No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, with the way you’re clearly trying to come onto him.

 “That isn’t the point, I’m not that kind of person.” Mingyu tries to argue, eyes boring holes through you with lust that doesn’t match his argument at all.

             You don’t want to push him if he’s genuinely not wanting to do this with you, but god, you’ve imagined this far more than you’d like to admit. 

 “Would you though? If the circumstances were different?”

             Mingyu appears to be totally lost at this point, standing there as he watches you step through his doorway, looking so….touchable in his son’s clothes. 

 “Fuck, yeah.” He sighs out this time, blatantly staring you down before realizing what he just said, and he struggles to take back the words. 

             You watch as his sweatpants move along with the twitch of his length beneath, and you do little to sway his break of control. If anything, you make it harder by stepping closer to him. 

 “If I asked you to touch me right now, would you?” You ask him, closing the distance and practically feeling his warmth pull you in.

             If he wasn’t in the middle of pleasuring himself when you knocked, he would be able to turn you away, but he was so fucking close. And now you’re actually in this room with him, much like he was imagining. 

 “I shouldn’t,” He whispers in defeat, all while his hand reaches out to yours and trails it straight to his clothed cock. “This is not something I should want to do–”

             You feel him twitch under your palm, warm from his arousal. You wonder if he was in here thinking about you before you knocked. 

 “Were you jerking off to me?” You ask bluntly, squeezing him and watching the way he releases a sigh before his eyes fall back onto yours, darker than before. 

 “Close the door.” He says, ignoring your question and stepping past his own boundary line. 

             Even when you pull away from him with a wicked smirk, his hips chase your palm until it’s out of reach and you’re silently closing his door. You approach him quickly this time, reaching between his legs without a hint of fear as you squeeze around him to make him release a sigh similar to the one before. 

 “Were you?” You ask again, jerking your hand up a bit and feeling the thickness of him, rubbing your legs together once again. This is really happening this time, and it was almost too easy.

             Mingyu nods shamefully, reaching to grab your wrist and halt its movements.

 “Wait,” He warns, throwing his head back for a moment with a frustrated groan. He’s arguing with himself in his head, sending mixed signals of what he wants and then immediately pulling back. “I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

             You pause, looking at him and the way he rolls his head forward to look at you again. You say nothing and your hand remains halted against his length as he makes a mental list of the  pros and cons of this situation. It’s entirely silent, and you smile when he bucks his hips up against your palm, seemingly making a decision. 

 “Shit,” he groans with a breathy chuckle, rubbing himself against you. You can see his bicep flex as he holds your hand there, and you honestly expected him to be more in control of his body. Somehow, it’s far more sexy to see him fight himself over you. 

 “Let me,” you comment gently, trying to move your hand and feeling the way he relaxes under it with another low rumble of a moan. “I want to.” 

  He’s already crossed his moral line, and the guilt that could come from this is replaced with arousal. The thoughts he had of you from before all could come true at this moment, and possibly only happen just this once. 

 Mingyu’s eyes are drawn to your hand against him and he bucks his hips towards the warmth on instinct. It feels so good to be touched by someone other than himself. He’s going to let himself have you, just this once. Hopefully, Chan won’t find out, and hopefully, this won’t happen again. 

             Your hand moves so gently over his length that despite barely feeling it through the thick sweatpants, it somehow sends shivers down his spine. He can’t keep his hips from moving, and he can’t stop breathing out little sounds because it genuinely feels like he’s fucking melting at your touch. Sure, it would probably be this way if anyone were to touch him like this after so long of being alone, but the fact that it’s you… for some reason has his head spinning. Out of anyone on this planet that he should be doing this with, it’s you. 

             You switch between watching his face to watching his hips. A man so broad and intimidating in stature is acting much like an inexperienced man being touched for the first time, and it’s throwing you for a loop. Just a little bit. After imagining him pinning you down, tearing you apart, and talking down to you so many times– it’s a bit of a shock seeing him do everything but that. 

 The look in his eyes is reluctant but his hips move with purpose against your hand. It’s cute. Watching him somehow seem so composed but unraveling all at once over your hand alone is something you’ve never experienced, so you were more than happy to snake your hand under the waistband of his sweats and watch him shiver at the sensation. 

 When you feel the warmth between his legs and the slippery beads of precum dripping out of him, it was easy to grasp him and imagine the weight of his cock inside of you. That alone blew your pupils out as you stare up at him, learning the ways in which he prefers to get touched. 

             His hips don’t stop moving towards you, and even at this angle of simply standing in front of him, you can feel the desperate force behind his movements. It’s so insanely hot to be doing this with Mingyu at all that you think you’d accept just about anything from him at this point.

             It only took less than a minute of jerking him off beneath those sweats when he dips his head down. You can feel his breath against you, fanning against your chin until it’s replaced with his hand, skewing your head away so that he can attach his lips directly to your neck.

             God, it’s something he’s doing. Holding you there, breathing heavily as his tongue swipes your pulse point with little muffled sighs as your hand grips and squeezes him. You can feel his hips continue to speed up, fucking into the circle your fingers make around him. For a solid moment there, you thought you were dreaming, but his raspy voice pulls you from that idea, planting you back in reality. 

 “I’ve thought about this a few times,” he whispers, kissing his way to the other side of your neck. “Have you?”

             You nod, feeling more pre-cum drip from him. Your hand glides up and down his length perfectly as he moves his hips in sync, laying sloppy and breathy kisses just below your ear.

 “I’ve thought about this since the first day I saw you,” you admit, leaning your head back a bit to try and get him to look at you, “I didn’t imagine you being this big though, Mr.Kim.”

             Mingyu does pull back at the name, his lips slack and puffy as he looks at you with disapproval.

 “Mm, don’t call me that, sweetheart. Mingyu is fine,” he pauses as you nod to him, and winces a bit at the way your fingers tease the head of his cock so beautifully. He has to breathe through his nose to keep himself from shoving you to the floor and spreading you open on him. “I’m not turned on because of a power dynamic–” He admits with a sigh. 

 “Oh?” You question, pressing yourself up against him and gaining a new angle for your wrist to begin flicking around his length. “Why are you doing it then?” 

             You are curious as to why he’s found an interest in you, though you refuse to question it. If it’s like it is in porn, where it’s strictly the age gap or the idea of having the power of another, so be it. It appears though, that Mingyu has other reasons. 

 “Because I want to know how you sound when you’re drenching my cock and saying my name.”

             Oh, there’s the Mingyu you imagined so many times before. Saying filthy things already, making your legs feel like jelly at the sheer image of him letting you drench him. You felt those words hit you right in the core. Your entire body tenses out of pleasure. You’re fucking tingling, and instantly pressing him forward to see if he really meant what he said. 

             Mingyu isn’t used to talking dirty these days though, but he can see the way you react to those words. Being led to his own bed by you says enough about how that made you feel. 

             When he falls back on the bed, you see the way his darkened pupils overtake the fond smile on his lips, and when you pull your hand from his pants and try to crawl on top of him, it confuses you when he stops you. 

             You look down at him, tilting your head in question before he speaks.

 “Take his clothes off first, I want to see you,” he mumbles, his own hands rubbing down his abs and his fingers tucking under his own sweats. 

             You nod, backing yourself up and sliding Chan’s boxers down your legs. You watch the way Mingyu watches you, seemingly treating this like a show as he slips his hand under his sweats and resumes to himself what you had been doing for him before. The hidden movement under those sweats ignites a fire inside of you, the reality of Mingyu pleasuring himself to you taking off his son’s clothes hits you so fucking hard. You feel desired by a man that shouldn’t desire you, and it makes you feel so fucking sexy.

 He’s watching you hard and even lets a small and choked-out moan fall from his lips when you begin to lift the shirt off of you. 

 “Anyone would be lucky to have you,” he compliments, blatantly squeezing his palm around the base of his length and imagining that it’s you sinking down on him. “Come here.” 

             As he reaches his free hand out to invite you on top of it, the words he said make you buckle into a world of shyness. You almost want to hide your face from his fond and darkened eyes, especially as he continues to palm against himself even as if you sit on his thighs. 

             You watch the movements under his sweats until your eyes are torn from the act, his warm hand pressing you up further and then guiding your face down to his. There, you expect to share a kiss with him, but he just ghosts his lips over yours, eyes falling into a half-lidded look. Your own eyes flutter closed, parting your lips for him– but instead of feeling him kiss you, you only feel his words come out in sighed mumbles. 

 “How do you feel about feeling my tongue on you?” he whispers, flexing his arm at your side as he fucks into his own fist harder now that he has you on top of him.

             You open your eyes to look at him, noting his dazed smile, pupils blown under those half-closed lids. You’ve never ridden a man’s face before, despite having been eaten out several times. You’re a little nervous, but he nods an encouragement out to you as he attempts to guide you further up. 

 “Don’t be shy, babe. I want to taste you,” he pauses to look at your face, trying to show that you can say no, even with your pussy already nearing where he wants it to be. “Yeah?”

             You give him a shy nod, scooting up until you’re sitting on his chest and leaning back a bit. You’re trying to remain confident enough to do it yourself, but he continues to guide you, all the way until you’re propping yourself up with your knees on either side of his head. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your thighs when you hover, and he starts kissing the flesh there, giving you no reason to feel embarrassed at all. It feels almost ticklish, and it makes your legs shake at the sensation. 

             As he continues to kiss against your thighs, you can feel his free hand move to grope your ass, spreading you open just a bit and rocking you just inches from his mouth. The pressure of waiting to feel his tongue on you is one thing, but feeling his big hand guide you to sit a little closer had you obeying instantly. 

             Still trying to remain confident, you look down between your legs and can only see the mess of hair fanned against his mattress, you kind of love the image. Knowing that it’s his face down there, and that’s his tongue working its way on your thigh and closer to your core. You jolt slightly when you feel the warm muscle tease at your folds, flicking gently before his hand begins to rock you against it, encouraging you to grind.

             You’re very reluctant at first, even upon feeling his tongue travel to your clit when he guides your hips back. It’s only when he leans his head up a bit to close any amount of space between his mouth and your pussy, that you release a shaky moan. His tongue circled your clit before sucking hard against it, and it really did make it difficult not to sit harder against him.

             Within seconds of that little sound, you hear the snap of his sweats against his abdomen and you feel both of his hands grasping at your ass. You’re seeing stars instantly when he presses you down all the way and instantly begins to part your pussy with his tongue, grinding you harshly against his mouth until he’s the one sending vibrations of moans through you.

             He lifts you up momentarily after a moment just to look at your pussy over him, and rolls his eyes back in an even filthier-sounding moan. 

 “Do you even know how wet you are?” He asks, staring directly at the way your pussy pulsates above him. “Had no idea you wanted me this bad.” 

             Mingyu doesn’t even let you answer, flattening his tongue before licking a long stripe up your slit and forcing you to sit against him again with those strong hands. He moans again through your sigh of a response, unable to speak as he guides your body on him. His tongue is working wonders on you, causing your head to spin at the way he flicks his tongue against your hole before swirling it all the way up to your clit over and over again. No part of your core feels neglected, and the sensations he’s giving you is something you want to cling to. 

             For him, he wants nothing more than for you to use this to your advantage. He wants nothing more than for you to grind against his tongue and force the taste of you on him until he never forgets the feeling of your pussy on his lips. But this. This is enough, especially compared to how bold you were being before. Feeling your legs shake around his head only drives him to keep going. He wants to hear you, taste you, feel you. He wants you to know what it’s like to have a real man pleasure you.

             He opts this time to grind your pussy forward until his nose is nuzzled against your clit and his tongue is teasing your entrance and he leaves you that way. Frantically moving his hand back to his cock and letting out a filthy groan against you as he finally gains his own friction again. You barely notice, feeling jolts of pleasure shoot through your body as you grind without intention this time, chasing the feeling in the same way he was guiding you. 

             When you do that, you feel him nod with a growl before slipping his tongue into you and tasting the way your walls clench even that. He sounds filthy and the fact that he seems to really enjoy that you’re doing this? It only drives you to actually ride his face, sliding back and forth, fucking yourself against his tongue until you slide all the way back just to see his face. 

 “Am I hurting you?” You ask, your pussy clenching at the image of him.

             He doesn’t respond and instead looks at you with a face driven by arousal, his tongue dipping back into his mouth to taste, then sticking it out again for you to continue your pleasure on. When you don’t, he shakes his head and clears his throat a bit, attempting to answer you. 

 “Fuck, no. You could go harder sweetheart, come on.” He urges you, moving his hand faster against himself when you shyly blink at him, hovering your core above him just enough for him to lift his head and do it himself at your reluctance.

 He frantically licks against you in a way that he’s never done before. Tongue slipping in and out of every crease and crevice to taste the entirety of you before fucking his tongue in once again when your weak grinds allow it. You watch his head move between your legs and you do your best to commit this image to your memory. You really get to sit on this man’s face, and he’s really just— fucking going insane for it like this? 

             Moaning out once again, you can feel your legs shake each time his nose bumps your clit, and you clench around his tongue each time he tries to essentially fuck you that way. It’s a lot, and god you’ve never been with a man who eats pussy like this. The way he moans through it, the way you can feel his arm jerking himself off, the way he occasionally tries to look up at you.

 “Mingyu, I–” you try to say, letting your legs buckle and sitting flush against his tongue again, resuming the weak grinds you had offered before. “You should stop, before I–”

             He taps your leg, causing you to lift a bit before he speaks out in an even raspier voice.

 “Do it. On my tongue.” He pleads without letting you answer, shoving you by your ass directly back onto his mouth and somehow, licking you with even more pressure. 

             You can feel him nod when you jerk your hips on him, his free hand guiding you back and forth in a harsher way. His tongue fucks into you a few more times before he’s holding you in place, attaching his lips to your clit, and sucking so hard against it that you feel that wave of pleasure hit you like a bag of bricks. 

             He made it happen so fast, legs squeezing around his head as you jolt and stutter against his tongue that flattens out and bumps your clit. You hold yourself there, swirling your hips and drenching his mouth entirely. You clench around nothing, orgasming solely from clit stimulation and it makes your ears pop and ring as you work through it. 

             And by the time you’re done, you panic. Is he okay? You’re sure you squeezed his head with your legs too tightly, you sat too hard, and you rutted against his tongue until he couldn’t breathe.

             Quickly, you slide off of his face, feeling embarrassed and quite frankly, apologetic that you did that but instead of finding a nearly choked out man, you see him lying there with a glistening face and a filthy fucking smile. 

 “You ride so well, sweetheart,” he compliments, quickly pulling his hand from his cock to prevent his own orgasm, “ you sounded so pretty like that.”

             He thinks hard about this, knowing that this is probably what his son wishes he can do for you, but at this point, he’s not even sorry. The way you choke out quiet sobs of pleasure, the way your legs were shaking around him, the way you fucking tasted against his tongue. No, he gets to be selfish. Fuck all else, he’s going to let you ruin him. 

 “Lie back, babe.” He says gently, waiting for you to adjust yourself comfortably against the bed before pulling his sweats off of him and shivering at the cold air that hits his pre-cum soaked length. He looks at you as you lay there, grabbing a pillow and adjusting it under your head with a soft smile before touching your face. 

 “Can I fuck you?” He asks, leaning to hover over you and running his hand down your waist. 

             Your eyes trail straight to the cock you hadn’t been able to actually see yet, seeing the way it glistens and twitches with the need to be touched. You want nothing more than for this man to plunge himself so deeply inside of you, that you can only say his name when you get fucked by anyone else. 

             His eyes watch yours as you stare between his legs and he easily slots himself between yours, fawning over the way your body heaves as you continue to catch your breath from that last orgasm. 

 “Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, yet again gripping himself and pumping against his own length as he waits for you to answer. 

             You nod, rolling your hips and bumping your warm, saliva-soaked, pussy against the knuckles of his hand as he pumps himself. He loves how your neediness matches his own, and he coos at the way you say nothing but communicates solely through grinding against nothing for him to fill you up. 

             The chuckle he lets out at you is another thing you had thought about time and time again. Being laughed at, degraded. Mingyu is everything and nothing like what you imagined him to be, but he’s also making you feel better than you imagined too. You blink up at him, trying to muster the words for him, wanting to see the fire in his eyes ignite further than it already has. 

 “I like it rough, deep.”

             Yeah, that did something for him, you can tell with the way he drops his head and immediately positions his length against you. 

 “How deep, sweetheart?” He asks, teasing your hole with the head of his cock and pressing in only slightly. 

             You roll your hips forward, enveloping his tip and smiling at him. You think he loses himself right then and there, pressing into you with one long and languid thrust, committing the feeling of your inner walls hugging his cock tightly to memory, pulsating around him until he bottoms out with a released sigh. 

 “So fucking deep,” he says more to himself then to you, holding himself above you and bracing one hand at the side of your head and the other on your waist. “Deeper.” He coos, angling himself slightly and pressing into you more somehow. 

             You can’t fucking breathe, feeling him, seeing him, smelling him. You’re actually fucking the Kim Mingyu right now. All of your wet dreams compiled into one fucking instance and it’s happening to you right now in the early morning hours while your recent crush is dozed off in the living room. 

             You clench, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep yourself from moaning as loud as you’d like to right now.

             He waits for you to adjust, twitching inside of you and working up a sweat as he attempts to control himself until you’re ready for the second half of your request. You wanna be fucked deep, and you wanna be fucked rough? Lucky him, because he’s about three seconds from ruining the both of you out of sheer desperation to feel your pretty hole squeeze him through orgasm.

 “And rough?” He whispers, leaning down and whispering against your ear. You can feel his grip on your waist tighten when he pulls his hips back, relieving the pressure inside of you before pressing in again.

             The moan he lets out against your neck is honestly the best thing you think you’ve ever heard, your nipples perk up at the sound of him fucking you, and you do everything you can to encourage him to do just that. 

             You nod with a broken moan, desperate enough to have him pulling back to look at you as he slides out again, and then plunges into you once, hard. The way your body shifts up as his hips meet your thighs is enough to have him doing it again, and again. A string of hard, deep, and pointed thrusts sending little yelps out of your throat each time his hips spread your legs a bit more for him.

             The hand on your waist moves up to your left nipple and he pinches it slightly before falling forward again, bracing himself on both arms at either side of your head. His rhythm sends him over the edge and makes him fuck into you even harder as he breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. 

 “Sweetheart?” he lets out between deep breaths, the sound of slapping echoing to the point that you hope it doesn’t wake up the sleeping boy in the other room, “hold onto me.” 

             You don’t know why that does it for you, but it fucking does. You didn’t even realize you needed something to hold on to until you released you were gripping the covers with tightened knuckles. Releasing the blankets, you throw your arms around his shoulders. 

 “Legs too,” he chuckles, licking against your bottom lip in a teasing kind of way.

             Your legs shoot around him too, squeezing his body and pushing him to thrust into you in a way that keeps his cock almost completely buried into you, thrusting tightly. Only an inch or two leaving you before the head of his cock bumps the deepest part of your inner walls. 

             Feeling that, knowing that Mingyu’s cock is reaching where no cock has gone before, you tilt your chin up and connect your lips with him. The first heated kiss sends shockwaves through your body and causes you to clench so tightly around him, that he fucking growls into it rather than moaning. 

             His pointed thrusts grow tighter, faster, and your arms continue to hug and squeeze against him as your tongue swirls around his. Teeth clinking, his sweat dripping a bit to the point of even tasting a bit of that salt fall past his lips and against yours.

             Both of you are fucking gone, deep breaths and deep thrusts, his cock is pressing against that spot inside of you and all you can do is fucking– you let go.

             Your mouth falls slack against his own, and he continues to lick into your mouth until he realizes. Your pussy jolts around him and he pulls his head back, watching you fall into a state of bliss before he’s instantly shoving his hand between the tight space of your bodies and harshly rubbing your clit. 

 “Oh, baby,” he coos out in his own moan, the image of actually seeing you come sending him over the edge himself. “That’s it,” he moans again, chasing his own high and feeling dangerously close already, “So pretty, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

             And there he goes too. You’re still riding out the last of your high when you feel him still his hips and press himself impossibly closer to you. He can feel your walls hug him, squeezing his come out of him in such a filthy way that he can’t help but whisper and babble out nonsense to you. Words of, you feel so good, i wanted this so badly, fuck yes–, fuck, fuck, just going to let me come in you like this?, fuck, oh, god. 

             It was a lot of nonsense, but to you and your dazed-out thoughts, it sounded like a mantra. 

             Even as the two of you laid there, fucked out and out of breath, neither of you felt any guilt. Why should you? Because you have (had) a crush on Chan? You’re not dating him, you’re an adult, and you can fuck whoever you want. Mingyu’s thought process is similar, though he’s sure the guilt will hit him later if anything were to happen. 

 ~

             The guilt did hit him later. He’d say around the time you stopped by three days after you spent the night to pick up your clothes. 

             Did he fuck you again? Yes. Right up against the washer in his tiny laundry room. Just as deep, but not as rough. 

 Is he only growing more weak towards you? Absolutely. Especially when you continue to find reasons to see him without Chan around. 

Unsure of what the future holds between the two of you, Mingyu tries not to think of you as anything more than someone he casually has sex with. If you and Chan start dating, that’ll be fucking awkward, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to believe that will ever happen. Not when he’s already had you moaning his name, not when you wrap your arms around him the way you do.

~

― part two here!

#kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader

[d1xonss]

heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::

Sunshine

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 10

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋

It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.

Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.

But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.

Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.

Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 

But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.

You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.

So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.

You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.

Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.

Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.

“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.

He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”

“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”

He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”

If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.

Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.

“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.

You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”

He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”

“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”

He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.

“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”

His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.

“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.

Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”

“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”

“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”

His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”

You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”

He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.

“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”

You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.

His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 

You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.

But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.

“Well..?” 

He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.

“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.

You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”

Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”

“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 

And you believed him completely.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x oc #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus

[goldenroutledge]

intimidated

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: you’re there for jj when it matters most. (inspired by this post)

warning(s): sprinkles of angst, but fluffy in the end.

a/n: the song i had in mind while writing this was intimidated by kaytranada & h.e.r <3

jj maybank masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

JJ Maybank didn’t need handouts. As he told it, his independence was his most valuable asset. It’s what made him a pogue through and through. “Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish?”— An Epictetus quote JJ scribbled down, bored as ever in his freshman English class. His life motto condensed into twelve simple words, whether his newfound ‘freedom’ was out of his control or not. Either way, he played the cards he was dealt.

His friends— no, scratch that— his family, were his escape to comfort. A soft, pillowy landing from the nose dive that was his life. A foreign concept to him until he met John B, then Pope, then Kiara, then you. A refuge of safety, ironically enough, given the many times you all had looked death in the face.

Even though the pogues had already started wearing matching friendship bracelets that Kiara made by the time you came along, it was a smooth transition when you were welcomed into the group with open arms. By some more than others at first, given your kook status. But just as they’d embraced Kie, your initiation into the group was no different.

While it took time for JJ in particular to come around, his reservations were understandable. At first, you gave him his space and he gave you yours. Always letting him set the tone and lead the way.

As time went on, JJ soon decided he wouldn’t mind having you around him all the time, there was no going back. JJ loved to the point of no return, and it was incomparable to anything— or how anyone else could ever make you feel.

At times, he felt like that was all he had to offer. Nothing but fierce loyalty and protection over the ones he loves most. But you. To JJ, you were the fine line between hideaway and heaven itself. Even if he thought he may not end up there, he was sure that it would be you he’d meet at heaven’s gates.

Amongst any conflict or tension within the group, you always provided a safe haven for him to retreat to, though he had difficulty admitting it. In a way you had a solution for everything. Keeping tensions low and spirits high in the process. You were the original peacemaker of the group, before his precious gun came along.

Right now, it was almost all he could think about while he sat there, beer in hand, listening to John B and Sarah argue in the distance. How he wishes you were here, to ease his nerves and settle the anxiety simmering in his chest.

JJ hated this. He hated that nobody seemed to get along anymore. With all that was going on with the others, he wouldn’t even think to mention his problems. The looming eviction notice on his house, one of few things he had left on this island. While everyone’s lives continued to progress, JJ’s was at a standstill. No job, no parents, and now his friend group was falling apart at the seams. And with everyone else occupied these days, he was alone.

JJ, selfless as usual, would hate to bother you, no matter how badly he wanted to. He knew you’d have some inspirational shit to say to him. Though he’d poked fun at it sometimes, he’d never needed anything more right now.

The sound of footsteps came before JJ saw them, watching Sarah storm off and away from John B as he stood there, tense and silent.

JJ could be hot headed at times, that was no secret. He could understand his friends' quarrels to an extent. But he couldn’t look past the fact that you all were supposed to be sticking together, especially right now. When he said that nothing good could happen once you all returned to Kildare, he knew he was right. Call it a gut feeling.

-

Naturally, Sarah told you everything. Confidant, mom-friend, advisor— all titles bestowed upon you by your close group of friends over the years. You’d always tried to be as neutral as possible in times of conflict. Though in matters of the heart it was nearly impossible.

Days after her fight with John B, she found herself laying on your bed, venting all of her bottled up frustrations about him and the state of their relationship.

“I’m a mess, Y/n. I feel like such a mess.”

You looked at her sympathetically, knowing there wasn’t much you could do. Just listen, just be there in her time of need.

“So, I took my bag from the Chateau and I left. Kie’s parents told me I couldn’t stay, then I went to JJ’s and he wasn’t home. He’s working at Guffy’s again last I heard.”

You briefly glanced up at the mention of JJ’s name— and it didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah. Instead of divulging about it, she continued her rant.

“Then I was just wandering around, because it’s not like I had anything better to do. And who sees me drinking at Tiki Bar? Topper.”

“Topper?”

“Topper.”

You internally cringed at the mention of the Thornton boy. He was always nice when you saw him, nothing bad nor good to say about him. But you knew deep down he was Sarah’s achilles heel. He reminded her of everything she once had, the person she once was. Lately, you couldn’t help but crave some normalcy too.

“So.. what happened?”

She sighs heavily, dropping her hand across her eyes. “We went to Mase.”

“Alone?”

“We went with some people from KDC. The old crew, Kelce, Phoebe…”

“Is that it?”

“We made out.”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in fear of your reaction, knowing it’d probably show on your face before anything.

“Oh.” You swallowed back any judgment you might’ve had, compartmentalizing your love for John B and choosing to hear Sarah out. “And how do you feel about it?”

“Awful. I mean Topper has been so good to me lately with everything going on, he’s always there to pick up the pieces and I just feel bad. It was a mistake.”

“It can’t happen again, y’know. Not if you want to work it out with John B.”

“I do, I wanna work it out with him.” She urged. “And then the next morning we had breakfast. Kie came into the restaurant and saw us together and I think she got the wrong message. She said she’s staying out of it but I can tell what she’s thinking.” Sarah takes a deep inhale, and a deep exhale to follow. “What do I do, Y/n?”

It still baffles you at times that you’ve become the voice of reason. You hope Sarah doesn’t notice that you feel uneasy about the whole thing. “Just… be honest. Don’t let John B find out from anyone other than you. He’s gonna be upset but he has a right to be.”

The blonde sits up, crawls over to you and envelopes you into her arms. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

-

Sun reflected brightly off the boats docked at the marina, the two smoothie cups in your hand sweating from the sweltering heat. Your family's boat was kept here at Guffy’s; particularly when your parents weren’t in town to cruise around the island and daydrink with their kook friends.

At least you had an alibi, just in case you happened to run into JJ. The two medium strawberry banana smoothies you carried might need some explanation, though.

Ever since you all had made it back to the island, JJ had been hard to track down. He was rarely in one place for too long. So where else better to catch him than at work?

“Y/n? How are you doing today?” Billy questions from a distance away, putting on his friendliest smile for the daughter of his best clients.

“Can’t complain. Happy to be back.”

“And it’s good to have you back. Everything alright with the boat?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine, I just realized I left behind my favorite sunglasses.” You explained, hoping your excuse sounded authentic enough.

“Alright. You take care, now.”

“Actually… I was wondering is JJ around?”

“Maybank? He was here a few days ago.”

“Hm, I could’ve sworn he was working today.”

Billy sighs, eyebrows furrowing. “Listen, Ms. Y/l/n, I know you want to advocate for your boyfriend and all but JJ can’t work here.”

Confusion spread through your features this time as you genuinely had no idea what the man was getting at. You chose to not correct him when he’d mistaken you for JJ’s girlfriend.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid. I know he wants the job back but Guffy put a pin in it. I’m sorry. Really not much I can do.”

You forced a polite smile on your face as the dots connected, remembering the melting smoothie you held in your left hand while your half-finished one remained in your right. The two of you exchanged brief goodbyes before you quickly left the marina.

If JJ really hadn’t been working at Guffy’s again, where the hell was he? His act of disappearing was unmatched, but so was your skill of guessing.

If a game of hide-n-seek is what he wanted, a game of hide-n-seek is what he will get.

-

Grass brushed against your ankles as you approached JJ’s home, your steps careful as you looked around for him.

Going to JJ’s home was forbidden. When Luke was around, that is. He was a phantom— an ugly, dark presence looming over the quaint home that would otherwise feel serene. The chirping birds in the trees couldn’t tell the difference.

You haven't been here many times. The times you had been here weren’t anything you nor JJ wanted to remember. The feeling of uncertainty creeped into your mind from your past visits. You never knew what to expect.

To your left, there was a beautiful, never-ending view of the water past the grass of the Maybank’s yard. You hadn’t noticed that before. This spot had probably seen some beautiful sunsets. In a moment of imagination, you almost pictured sitting there with JJ on the plush green, hand in hand, watching the warm hues of the sky melt into a dark night.

The caution tape wrapping around the wood of the house caught your interest as you made your way onto the porch, also noticing the eviction letter left on the door, moving closer for a better look.

“Y/n?”

JJ called out, appearing from around the corner of his home, startling you out of concentration as you re-read the notice again and again.

As if you didn’t come over to finally see him in the first place. Though you couldn’t speak— for once unsure of what to say. ‘Sorry you’re getting evicted?’, it just didn’t sound right. Then again it might’ve been better than standing frozen and staring at him, silently, like you were doing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- um…. I brought you a smoothie.”

You held out the cup, approaching him and handing it to him. He stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows furrowed. His lips eventually pursed into a smile as a way to say thank you. This wasn’t the relaxed JJ you were accustomed to; nonetheless he was still the JJ you loved.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. The smoothie.”

“You came all the way out here from your mansion on Figure 8 to bring me a smoothie?”

“What?” You scoffed, his tone dictating where the conversation was headed. Most likely nowhere.

“Go back to reading by your pool or something. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I haven’t heard from you in days, JJ. I’m just checking up on you.”

“So what? You touring around the Cut now? Delivering smoothies to lost pogues? Is Heyward’s your next stop?”

He resumed tinkering with his bike, and from the looks of it he was working rather aggressively— desperate to distract himself from the conversation at hand.

“I miss my best friend. Am I not allowed to miss you anymore? I mean it’s not like we were stranded on an island together… not knowing whether we would live or die!”

“Well, we’re not exactly a big happy family right now. You should know that.”

“Yeah. John B and Sarah are on some kind of break. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see you, that doesn’t have anything to do with us. I thought we were past the whole picking sides thing.”

“I’ve been busy.” JJ shrugs.

“Busy working? At the job you lied about having?”

His eyes snapped to yours immediately. Your heart clenched as soon as the words left your mouth, you didn’t mean to go too far. But at least you had his attention.

“What, are you stalking me now? Or did you hire a P.I. to figure that out?”

“Hilarious, JJ. I was at the marina earlier to grab something off my boat. Actually hoping I would run into you but, whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

A few moments of awkward silence lingered between the two of you, as you kicked a pebble around with your foot.

“I know you don’t owe me anything… but you could’ve just told me.”

He paused his movements, thinking about how he was going to respond.

“Tell you what? That I prefer mixed berry over strawberry banana?” He jested, smiling to himself.

“I’m not talking about the smoothie, idiot.”

His eyes drifted over to his home, knowing exactly what you were thinking, just afraid to acknowledge it.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Y/n.”

“And I know that. I just wanna help you, however you’ll let me.”

“Well, you can help me by not helping me. I’ll figure it out. Always do.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here.”

At that, he dropped his tools, running tense hands through his hair. “But you aren’t here! You don’t have to live like this and you should be glad that you don’t!”

He raised his voice at you, frustrated. JJ was never good at putting his feelings into words, especially when it came to actually expressing them.

He didn’t know how he could tell you about everything. The worst day he’s ever had, the lowest he’s ever been. He couldn’t see a way in which he could tell you all of it and carry on the same. You were always a constant in his life. He needed it to stay that way, by any means necessary.

“That doesn’t make sense, JJ. What’s the point of having anything nice if I can’t share it with the people I love?”

The both of you were taken aback at what your explanation implied. In actuality, it took all of your power not to say those three words to him outright. But you couldn’t, not like this.

“You don’t have to pretend to care that much. I’m sure you can find another community service project to focus on.”

“Community service?” You chuckled emptily, baffled at his ridiculousness, though deep down you knew this was how he dealt with things. He simply didn’t know anything other than defensiveness. “That’s what you think this is?”

JJ closed his eyes in exasperation, wishing this conversation away. He could hear it in your voice, your feelings were hurt. Maybe not as bad as when your 8th grade crush asked someone else to the Valentine’s dance— but even a little was too much.

“If you’re gonna reduce our decade of friendship to me doing charity work, I guess there’s no changing your mind. I’m just wasting my breath.”

The words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize instantly, but now he wasn’t sure if his apologies were something you’d wanna hear at the moment. He wasn’t sure if you’d believe him.

For all the disingenuous apologies he’d accepted over the years, he’d hate to put you on the receiving end of one. Even if his heart truly was in the right place, JJ couldn’t muster up the courage to show it.

“You don’t have to antagonize me. Because everything you’re blaming me for, it isn’t my fault. Just like this isn’t your fault either.” You gestured to the eviction notice at his door.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “You’re right.”

“Say what you want about me, but I just wanna know that you’re okay. And if it’s an apology you’re looking for, you’re not gonna get it. I’ll never apologize for that.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. All he could do was try to understand.

Realizing he had no further comments, you turned your back to leave.

“Will I see you at the Chateau tomorrow?” You asked over your shoulder, hope remaining in your voice despite the uneasiness that remained between you two.

“Don’t count on it.”

“Alright, well… bye.”

JJ waves, before muttering a monotone ‘thanks for the smoothie’ as he watches you go.

-

Since returning to the island, it was an unspoken thing that you all were to meet up at the Chateau at some point. And with all the new developments in your lives lately, these meetings were much needed.

Pope handed you a beer as he came into John B’s living room, opening one of his own as he sat down beside you.

John B and Sarah seemed to be laying low, but it was clear they were back together or had come to some sort of resolution.

Kiara was going on about how much shit her parents had been giving her lately. They’d been hovering— watching over their daughter’s every move from the moment she set foot on the island again.

Pope told the group about how Cleo had won over Heywar in record time, much faster than John B or JJ. Pope’s parents simply wanted the best for him, and knew that the danger and mischief his friends came with couldn’t be productive.

“We’ve been best friends for what…? 13 years?” John B recalls. “And your dad can hardly stand the sight of me but Cleo won him over in a few minutes? How?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not at all.” John B holds his hands up in surrender to Cleo, Pope smirking beside her as he witnesses the interaction. “Just confused.”

“I have many superpowers, John.”

“Apparently! Winning over Heyward is like, unheard of in this group. At least for JJ and me.” John B explains, sipping his beer.

“Speaking of, where’s he at?”

At the shift in conversation, you can feel several pairs of eyes fall upon you. All you can do is act as normal as possible, tipping off any of your friends always ends badly in the case of keeping a secret. Until the cat’s out of the bag, your friends will make it their personal mission to reveal whatever it is you’re hiding.

You raised your eyebrows, pretending to only catch onto their stares moments later. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“No reason. It’s not like you guys are secretly together or anything.” Pope mutters under his breath, catching a glare from you at his false claim.

“We’re not. I wouldn’t know where he is.”

John B hisses, pretending to shiver. “Is it a little chilly in here? Or is that just Y/n’s cold shoulder?”

You roll your eyes, further proving his point until Sarah chimes in, pondering if she should speak up about what she knows.

“I actually stopped by JJ’s the other day. He.. wasn’t home.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t he go fishing? Probably not back yet.” John B remembers.

“I don’t think he’ll be going home anytime soon.”

At this your eyes meet Sarah’s hazel ones, full of hesitation. You shoot her a look of ‘whatever you’re about to say, don’t’, and you hope she is wise enough to pick up on it.

“Why is that?” Kiara questions, confused.

“He got evicted.” Sarah blurts, regret spreading through her expression as she sees you react; you don’t react. And that slightly terrifies her.

“Really?” Pope asks in disbelief, though not too surprised. More so disappointed that his best friend had to endure this, silently at that.

“Yeah. When was the last time anyone’s heard from him?”

The group silently recollects for a few moments, Kie pulls out her phone to review her latest texts with the man in question.

Instead, you’re wondering how the hell Sarah even knew about this to begin with. How long could she know about this and just stay silent? Forget not telling the group, how long could she keep this from you? How could she not help her friend who was clearly in need of support?

“How long have you known?”

Sarah appears confused, wondering where your line of questioning is coming from.

“I- uh. After John B and I fought I went there, remember Y/n? I was hoping I could stay but he wasn’t home. That’s when I saw the eviction notice.”

“And you waited, I don’t know, a week to bring that up?”

“Y/n, it’s not like I intentionally kept this from you, okay? We know how protective you are over JJ.”

Her words strike a cord within you, already on edge regarding JJ Maybank because of your argument with him the day prior. It was still a sore subject, even more so made by having no one to confide in about it.

“It’s not about that, Sarah. You didn’t even have to tell anyone at all but you didn’t think to maybe find out if he’s okay? At the very least?”

“I was a bit homeless at the time, Y/n, sorry about that.”

“Oh, right. You were too busy hooking up with Topper to care about the well-being of our best friend? Good to know the bare minimum is impossible for you.”

Sarah scoffs, John B shakes his head in exasperation. Kiara stays silent mostly, being no stranger to your and Sarah’s sister-like fights. She couldn’t even disagree with you, though with her parents keeping her on lockdown it was hard to do anything about it. She wasn’t in a place to have an opinion.

Pope and Cleo shared looks, communicating wordlessly as they had grown to do. Being away at Heyward’s kept them out of the loop quite a bit.

“JJ will figure it out, Y/n. Relax.” John B reassured. Though he was defending his girlfriend, now that they were in a ‘good place’ again, you felt anything but reassured at his carelessness around the subject. You’d think of all of you, John B would understand the most.

“Relax? Why should I relax if JJ is in trouble? If anything, you’re too relaxed!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you don’t have to take it out on Sarah, this isn’t even her fault! Not all of us want to fight your battles.”

“If you had any sense left you’d realize this isn’t about me. This is about our friend, who I thought we all cared about. At least enough to share this kind of news. We’re talking about his well-being here, I mean he’s losing the house he grew up in and nobody seems to care about that?”

“If he wanted us to know, he’d tell us.”

“Like he’s ever going to do that! You know better than anyway that he won’t!”

“It’s not my problem.”

“Mhm. It’s a shame JJ’s busy solving all of yours.”

“Y/n, please. Can we just have a chill night?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his ‘best friend since the third grade?’ Because you don’t fucking act like it.” You huffed, standing up to get rid of your beer can. At this point you were rambling to yourself, more than okay with the group hearing what you really thought about them and their carelessness for the situation.

“Indeed. Which is why I don’t need to force him to tell me shit, okay?”

“Why are you such an asshole, John B?”

“Y/n, I just found my dad. So, excuse me if JJ’s living situation isn’t at the forefront of my mind.”

“I never said it had to be, but you’re acting like you don’t even care!”

“I do care! We all do!” John B shouts. “And maybe if you’d let up on him he’d actually come to you about this stuff!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, maybe JJ would give you the love you so desperately crave if you weren’t fucking suffocating him.”

“John B!” Kiara warns.

Sarah held her face in her hands, knowing John B had crossed the line. Maybe he had one too many beers in his system. Either way, hell was about to break loose. And when it came to JJ, hell hath no fury like you did.

Your head felt like it was about to explode. How could your friends seem to be so comfortable with this? The same friends that claimed to leave no pogue behind, to never turn their back on one of their own.

If that was true, then what was this? From the looks of it, nobody even pretended to give a damn.

“You’re fucking terrible, John B. This isn’t even about me at all! You just can’t stop deflecting from what a shitty friend you are. I mean, JJ would die for literally every last one of you guys. And he almost did! On multiple occasions! But instead you’re gonna neglect the one person who's seen you through all your bullshit and as soon as it’s over you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened? Like the Earth is back on its axis? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, John B. That’s just not- that’s not something you do to someone you love.”

There wasn’t a need to announce your departure, as it was so quiet inside that you could hear your own breathing.

As hard as it was to fight with John B like that, you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted off your chest. Your spirit was lighter. It was therapeutic, really. So therapeutic you felt peaceful enough to go home and take the longest nap ever recorded, maybe in John B’s own hammock just to prove a point.

Entranced in your own thoughts, you didn’t even register JJ resting in the hammock himself, hands intertwined behind his head. Not asleep, but wondering what your next words will be. The walls of the Chateau were thin enough, echoes of your voices amplified by the open windows.

He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t notice his presence or if you were flat out ignoring him, walking past like he was invisible. Testing the waters, he called out from behind you.

“I never really thanked you for the smoothie.”

You froze in your tracks, face heating up and muscles tensing at the thought of the argument he probably just heard and decided not to barge in on.

“It’s alright. Wasn’t looking for praise.”

JJ met you halfway, taking note of your tired eyes and your feet dragging against the grass.

“So, what? You’re picking fights for me now?”

“You heard?”

“I think Ward Cameron heard. All the way from Guadalupe.”

“Stop it.” You warned, cracking a smile for a split second. JJ was good at that. Making you smile no matter the circumstances. “I stand up against injustice. That’s all.”

“Then are you still mad at me?”

“About what?”

“Yesterday. The whole… note on door situation.”

“Could never be mad at you, JJ. Especially not about that.”

He softly smiles, one that you return. It’s been a long time since you’d shared a small moment like this. Too long.

He gestures for you to come closer and slide into his arms as he’d held them out for you, just like you belong there.

“I am sorry, though.” JJ mumbles the words softly, almost into the crook of your neck as if he was speaking to you and you only. “I know you’re just trying to stick around for me.”

“Yeah. Just trying to be wherever you are.”

“You don’t have to fight for me, y’know.” I’m already here. Though you may not have caught on instantly, nothing he’s ever said has made as much sense.

“Sorry, J. Sometimes I just feel like we don’t deserve you. Like I don’t deserve you.” You admitted sheepishly.

JJ scoffs, and you’re not sure why. He’s often sarcastic, but it’s hard to tell what he’s really thinking in these situations.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/n?”

Your eyes meet his, hesitation behind them.

“You’re the one who doesn’t deserve me? Is that a joke?”

You looked at him as if it were obvious, like the line had already been drawn in the sand. This fact had already been decided; there was no going back, not now, and not ever.

“I know I’m not the smartest person, okay, but you’re making no sense.”

“Come again?” You asked, equally as confused as he was. It was incredulous for anyone to believe JJ of all people wasn’t worth it— as if he wasn’t worth someone who would go to the ends of the Earth for him, someone who would defend him six ways to Sunday. There was no one in your life more deserving of such a thing.

“Listen, Y/n...”

“No! You listen. Nobody should treat you like that. Especially our friends! As if their problems are bigger than yours or something. It’s just fucked up for any one of them to act like they don’t care because I know deep down, they do. They care just like I do but they just suck at showing it. Mostly John B. He sucks the most. And I’m not exempt either, I mean I should’ve checked on you sooner-”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” JJ interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“I know that. I just want to love you. Because I really do. I really love you, JJ. Like bad. So bad that it’s probably sad at this point but I really don’t care anymore! Not about what John B has to say, not about anything, because I’ll never regret it. I’ll never wish that I didn’t love you.”

That stupid weight again, feeling as if it’s taking off like a rocketship and leaving your conscience for good. It makes you want to scream the words from the rooftops. Over and over and over again.

Confessing feels good, but kissing JJ feels damn euphoric. His lips are on yours before you can even register what’s happening, too busy being self-aware to realize the way his eyes turned glossy, or the way he’s gently got one hand on your waist and one hand caressing your cheek.

“He’s got it all wrong. I love you, too.” JJ confesses after pulling away from you, briefly taking his eyes off yours to glance at the Chateau. His head shakes as he says it, that starry glint in his eyes so undeniably present. “So bad.”

He earns a giggle out of you as he mocked your words to him just a few moments ago. But now, things were changing. He couldn’t stand before you and pretend he didn’t feel the way he did. Not anymore, not ever again.

Not after you’d shown your love for him so confidently to everybody, time and time again. JJ Maybank wasn’t sure about many things in life, but you weren’t one of them. This was surely the best decision he’d made in years.

“Come over.” You whine between kisses, breaking him out of his trance. If you let him, he’d kiss you forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

JJ raises his eyebrows, smirking.

“For dinner. We’re having sloppy joes.”

JJ, unresisting temptation, leans in again and moans against your lips dramatically. “What about dessert?”

You give his hair a tug and kiss the smirk off his face, whispering to him a secret.

“And maybe dessert.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + jj maybank taglist: @destourtereaux

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks imagine

[morganbritton132]

You probably get this all the time, and I don't know why I only thought about this now, but I'm suddenly fascinated by the idea of a government employee who knows about the Upside Down that has been tasked with keeping an eye on Eddie's TikTok page and just constantly being so frustrated

I never get this but I have thought about it at length!!! Lol.

I just picture one overworked and underpaid agent being tasked with the whole *hand waving* Hawkins Situation.

There used to a time when the Hawkins Project was a coveted position given to the best agents with the highest clearance, but now… Now all the gates to the other world have been closed. There’s been no activity in three decades. Brenner’s dead. The Russians defuncted their projects. The girl – Eleven or Jane, or whatever – hasn’t blown anything up since the nineties.

The Hawkins job is a babysitting job with CIA-level clearance, and it’s just… it was supposed to be a cakewalk but. There’s just… there are so many of them.

And for a while, they were spread all over the country.

One of them is a US Senator now and she called the head of the FBI ‘a bitch’ and ‘a coward’ on a hot mic last week, and maybe.

Maybe for the sake of national security and their own sanity, maybe this agent pulled a few strings and dotted a few more I’s than they’re authorized to just to get Lucas Sinclair, Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley back in Chicago.

Maybe they did that. There’s no paper trail, but maybe they did.

It’s easier to keep track of a ‘party’ of people if most of them are in the same state.

This Party – as they fondly call themselves – barely qualified as a threat anymore. They are barely a concern at this point. Only a few of them are considered dangerous enough to require anything more than the occasional check-in. Those people being Jane Hopper, James ‘Jim’ Hopper, Nancy Wheeler, Murray Bauman, and – much to this agent’s annoyance – Edward Munson.

Eddie wouldn’t be a cause for concern if he wasn’t so goddamn loud. He is in no way a threat to national security but the CIA doesn’t love when people allude to a defuncted Cold War project that resulted in an inter-dimensional serial killer murdering a bunch of small town high school students.

This agent does not believe that Eddie Munson knows what an NDA is or that he signed one.

It is one thing to write songs about demon bats and hell spilling into small town Americana or to make your album cover resemble the charred remains of Henry Creel’s disfigured body (‘yeah’ the agent thinks, ‘you’re not that slick, Munson’) but it is something else to announce to your millions of TikTok followers that you got rabies in a hell dimension.

This agent does not have enough pull to persuade Congress to outright ban TikTok and actually thinks that a TikTok ban would be an overreach of government control, but damn if it would not have made their life easier. Though they fear that Munson would just go to YouTube and the idea of longer content makes them shiver.

And by the way, this agent expected better from Steven Harrington!

This agent liked Steve! He was one of their favorites!!

Steve didn’t make waves. He lived a quiet life, paid his taxes, and barely had a social media presence. He was an absolute dream to be monitoring until Eddie downloaded that cursed clock app.

Steve was never viewed on the same threat level as Jane Hopper or Murray Bauman, but he was a closely monitored subject due to his long-term injuries and his time spent in the alternate dimension and the Russian bunker under Starcourt Mall. Despite close monitoring, there is no note in his file of any digression until Eddie started shoving Tiktok in his face.

This agent sits in their office at the CIA’s Chicago location.

In the basement, at the end of a long dusty corridor, beneath a buzzing fluorescent light, they get a notification on their computer. It’s from Tiktok, and this agent breathes in slowly. They rub at the forming headache between their brows and names it Eddie Munson.

They click the notification, waits a second for the shitty wifi to bring them to the app, and watches as Steve Harrington says, “Technically we’re time travelers.”

And they sigh.

#Two things I love: (1) Steve being the only one that truly thinks they’re being spied on and #(2) some guy in a middle management-like job having to keep track of all the dumb shit they do #this agent is the reason Eddie gets stopped by the TSA every time he flies. It’s revenge #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[omegalomania]

so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

#fall out boy #tourdust #*making poasts #trying to format this conventionally BROKE THE POST so i did my best #i burned my grilt cheese typing all this up pls appreciate it #the weird break in the middle is cause otherwise it wouldnt post. mea culpa.

[joelscurls]

a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here. 

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking. 

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head. 

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss? 

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what��s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through. 

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him. 

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement. 

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles. 

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance. 

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?” 

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.” 

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul. 

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.” 

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food. 

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him. 

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him. 

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out. 

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He��s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing. 

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from. 

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera. 

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?” 

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes. 

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive. 

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate. 

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles. 

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench. 

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present. 

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

[27thswan]

❝ 𝐰�� 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. ❞ hsr x reader

synopsis. daycare teacher of lil kindergarteners meets one of her lil kindergarteners' parents, or in this case; parent. a father.

warnings. march, dan heng, and the trailblazing twins as welt's kids. yanqing as jing yuan's. silver wolf as blade's. bailu as luocha's.

author's notes. i love making song lyrics the titles of my fics !!

pairings. blade, jing yuan, welt, and luocha x gn!reader (seperately)

jing yuan first meets you at yanqing's kindergarten. while he picks up the cutest child in the world; aka yanqing, he sees you walking up to him, and dear god were you pretty.

he zones out while you talk about how swell yanqing had been doing in class! so much so, he gets a candy bar! yippee!!! zones back into reality when he sees you carrying his son, in your hands.

the exact moment he wanted to put a ring on your finger already, he didn't know yanqing's teacher would be so... attractive.. and kind..

kind of red when you pat him on the back for being a good dad

blushy and stuttering everywhere when you decide to ask if he had a mother.

"o-oh he d-doesn't really have one" "oh, i see, my apologies for bringing it u-" "its okay, its fine d-don't worry!"

the way you both got to talk more was outside of school, where he bumps into you, spoiling your drink onto the gravel of the sidewalk.

immediately apologizes and offers to reimburse you for the fallen drink, but he realizes it was you, your soft spoken voice telling him there's no need to compensate the drink at all

will take the chance and hold your hand on the way back to the café you got your drink at.

and while you were in shock at how he was so persistent about it, it was definitely very cute. you did notice the small tint of red on his cheeks.

asks you out with a cute lil pick up line he wrote down quickly, along with his number, in hopes for yours. and thankfully you did give it.

and spending the afternoon with his happy crush wasn't so bad. getting to know you as a person, in a quiet cat café, with no one to bother you both, other than distant meowing.

oh no! it just happens to be raining! and you didn't bring an umbrella, and he didn't either..

running back to his huge home, which was nearby, and thankfully yanqing went out and unlocked the gate for you both in a raincoat.

heavy rainfall, it didn't seem like it'd stop anytime soon. so you really had just planned to stay 1 night. how cliché...

welt picking up his fussy children from daycare, march, dan heng, caelus, and stelle, poor guy couldn't help but fall for you

how.. do you have.. the patience.. to take care.. of 20 kids..

it's attractive to him tbh, hats off to you, but man you were hot as hell, and he looked like he just got off a 20-hour shift.

was kind of embarrassed, he was falling for someone at first sight, really fell for how good you take care of his kids

how do you get them to sleep so easily, how do you get them to stop being mad and eat their vegetables..

amazed, and will ask questions. and gives you his number, just in case he'll need help with his little circle of kids.

the kids probably have called you mom/dad by accident too, and i mean march, dan heng, and the two gray haired twins.

loves the way you take note of what each child likes, so you remember what each kid would like as a gift at the end of the month.

giving the twins toy baseball bats so they'll get better soon, giving dan heng books of fiction, and facts, and gifting march a polaroid camera to capture moments in time, for her to look back on.

god just marry him already. how the hell are you actually so good at doing what you do??? no way you remember what 19 other kids like.

needs someone like you, so that's exactly what he'd do. had the courage to ask you out while hanging out, bowing and everything, arms out presenting a gift to your liking. please accept it!

you do accept it! and land a passionate kiss on his soft lips too!

blade is not good at socializing with others for sure. even as the father of his former younger sister; now that he was old enough and financially stable, he became her father legally woo!

silver, who blade nicknames silver wolf because of her ign (in-game-name) on her and his favorite game to play together, takes a lot from her older br- i mean her dad. and because of that, she tends to be just as quiet as him (unless she's close with the people she talks to, only then does she talk more)

but blade's recently noticed how while she rambles about school and how she started making more friends at kindergarten. he was proud to say the least, but he also noticed how often she mentioned a certain name, yours.

"who's y/n, silv?" he quietly said, looking over to his small daughter who sits slightly across him, coloring on sheets of paper happily. "my new favorite teacher. they helped me make my new friends today."

he nodded, deciding the next day when he picks her up, that he would try to meet you

and oh god

gosh uh you were definitely attractive, kind of peeked through the window while waiting for silver wolf, and oh wow

hasn't been more thankful that silver wolf sees him and brings you over to him to introduce her two favorite people to each other

ok he may be a bit socially awkward but he has his way with his actions, and when he does speak, it might be short, but it's poetic.

oh but he's also like "no way you remember to give each child a gift to their liking" how do you remember all those little peabrains' interests?

no way you gave silver wolf animal crossing

he's in love, very clear.

older sister kafka def teases him about you when you come over to tutor silver wolf (over call because kafka works internationally lol)

anyways pls marry him soon or he'll explode

luocha adores his daughter; bailu. teaches her all the rights and wrongs, and the rights from the wrongs, left from right, alright you get my point.

but recently he's felt like she's growing a little more distant from him, because yes he's a busy father, and also because she's met someone new

his daughter, his bailu wouldn't replace him right??!?!?! all jokes aside, he just noticed that bailu started to mention a name of a teacher more often; you.

"you should meet them papa! they're a very nice person!" bailu says, dragging him alongside her for him to meet you because you taught her how to draw stars!!

oh gee gosh you kinda cute.........

"they taught me how to draw different shapes, pa! look! its a star!" bailu quickly ran over inside the classroom to snatch the paper with her masterpieces bestowed on it. proudly showing it to her pretty blonde-haired father who's in awe of the cute teacher who taught his daughter HOW TO DRAW STARS/.11?!!@>@

he's like "oh. oh." he's a doctor but this the first time he's ever felt like this for someone.

and ohh bailu knows how he feels about this. she KNOWSSS, and she got her dad!! will definitely set you both up (somehow)

yes shes in kindergarten but she just built diff

i hc that luocha likes coffee because he has to stay up and do doctor stuff, and he has specific favorite brands that he can't always get (because for some reason he's that busy) so he has to get the cheap brands (that he hates because its all just instant coffee)

and bailu knows abt that, so she goes secret shopping with you while you and the rest of the class are on a trip (there are other teachers present there while on the trip you are responsible adult here!!!!)

"aren't you 5? why do you want coffee?" "papa"

then she puts those coffee brands he loves in a lil gift box + a bracelet you both made for him (most was you but yeah)

and she gives it to her dad once you both come back

ok he asks you out the end

i'm tired sowwy for making luocha's part short

#❛﹒⥥﹒ 🍁 ding ding: a finished show! #blade hsr #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr blade #honkai star rail #star rail #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x male reader #hsr fandom #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr blade fluff #hsr blade x you #hsr blade x reader #luocha x reader #luocha x you #luocha x y/n #luocha #welt x reader #welt x you #welt x y/n #hsr welt x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n