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14dayswithyou · 2 months

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Teo NSFW Alphabet

🔞 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞 Hello Teo Alvarado Nation, I come bearing gifts

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

For one night stands; Teo will casually point out where the bathroom is and let them use any of his personal products —before ignoring them in favour of his phone or organising an Uber/chauffeur to pick them up. But for regular hookups; he'll have a towel, a bottle of water, and some snacks ready on standby. They are welcome to stay the night, but they better be gone before Teo wakes up in the morning.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Necks :) He likes how nicely his fingers look wrapped around his partner’s throat — as well as the expensive jewellery he buys specifically for them to wear. I know everyone probably expects me to say that Teo likes his own face the most, but he honestly might prefer his own biceps instead. He's worked hard to maintain this kind of build, so it's only natural for him to want to show off the results.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only time you'll ever get to see his cum is if you give him head; otherwise, he'll use a condom (or send you home if there are none available). But!! His seed is somewhat thick and has a bitter taste. It's not unpleasant, though!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's probably had a sexual escapade or two with a few of the other library employees by now ^^; He won't go anywhere near your immediate coworkers, though — he's not that much of an asshole.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Sexually? There's almost nothing this man hasn't done already. He's extremely skilled, knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to ask for it if his partner(s) are willing. Romantically, however? That's an entirely new realm to him. Theo has probably never held anyone's hand before or kissed them with affectionate intentions. He knows how to fuck, but he doesn't know how to make love.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggystyle, in front of a mirror. He likes being able to pull his partner's hair, slap their ass, or place a hand on their neck/shoulder blade to bend them to his liking. Seeing his partner's face might be a bit too intimate for him, so any position that lets Teo fuck undisturbed is good in his books.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

While he's far more serious, he'll entertain any goofy partners. If they crack jokes or do something silly, he'll roll his eyes and go along with it — for the most part. Once it starts getting old, he'll simply ignore it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Most of his body is hairless for his own personal preference, though he does grow out his happy trail on occasion... Especially if he knows his regular partners are into it. It's a dark patch of black to match the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Literally non-existent. When he sleeps with someone, it's because he's either looking for a bit of fun or to let off some steam. Both parties are aware of this, though, and Teo would never have sex with someone who sees him in a romantic light or wants something more than a casual hookup. I can't believe this is happening, but if it's blog!Teo (aka Rosie and Jesse delulu AU /pos), then he would be waaay more intimate with his partner! He's more likely to make eye contact and even lean in for a kiss if you beg him enough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Although he'd definitely jack off if necessary, Teo is typically around people who are willing to help him blow off some steam — so there isn't really much point. Teo does find the idea of mutual masturbation hot, though!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

My dyslexic ass doesn't know how to spell it correctly, but he's got a crying kink!!! Seeing his partner so overwhelmed with pleasure just does something to him, and it goes hand in hand with his degradation and knife kink. However, I want to make it explicitly clear that Teo doesn't get off to seeing his partner in pain!! He also wouldn't do something they're not comfortable with. Everything gets discussed before the relationship situationship can delve into anything more long-lasting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves to do it inside his McLaren (or Tesla, in Blog! Teo's case). His windows are heavily tinted so you don't have to worry about any outside interference, though Teo isn't above threatening to wind down the window inch by inch in order to tease you. Other than that, Teo is down to fuck almost anywhere that's hygienic and sanitary. But keep in mind that he also gets a kick out of public indecency, and bribing the law isn't above him either (if you guys somehow got caught).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sending him risque texts, telling him you're bored and alone, unabashedly sitting in his lap while he's with his friends, literally taking his hands and shoving them down your pants, etc. He likes people who are confident and forward with him without feeling ashamed or embarrassed by it. ...Just don't make it seem like you're trying to claim ownership over him, though. Don't cling to his side to make his friends jealous. Don't send him spicy texts because you saw him flirting with another man. And don't act brazen just to flaunt your relationship in front of that cute souvenir shop cashier.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

To be honest, there isn't much that Teo is not open to. He's down for almost anything so long as it's legal and not too immoral/outlandish. He's fine with somnophilia if it's discussed prior, but things like dubcon might be a bit too icky for his tastes. Keep in mind that he's also really selfish, and would probably want to stick to his own kinks since they are more familiar to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He was born to be a pillow princess, but wouldn't mind going down on his regular hookups either.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It's always hard and rough with him, though he likes to switch up the tempo in order to tease you/his partners. Just when you think you're about to come, he'll slow down and ultimately stop moving. And once you've sufficiently begged him enough — maybe turn on the waterworks to really get him going — then he'll give it to you fast and hard until your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's Corland Bay's king of quickies lmao. Teo is the type to pull you (and your clothes) aside and take you where you stand before going about his day as if nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's always down to take risks and experiment! Teo is open to trying out almost anything — and unlike Ren, he's more in favour of having others see you both get fucked. Teo knows he's good and wants to show the both of you off.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While 3-4 rounds might not sound like much, Teo tends to draw them out for as long as possible. It's almost like he's trying to edge you with how often he'll stop before you can reach your peak... But the orgasms always feel that much better for the both of you when you're especially horny and desperate for release. I think the better answer would be that Teo can last at least six hours in the bedroom.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't use anything on himself, though Teo does have a small box of toys for his partners who prefer it. I wouldn't count his knife collection as toys, nor the literal police handcuffs stashed away in his drawer. (Which, ironically, were used to detain him after he vandalised a small business..... Why did they let him keep the cuffs.... How did he get away with it.........)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teo isn't one to be a physical tease (he doesn't have the patience for it), though he is a massive verbal tease in the bedroom. More often than not, his words are mixed with a degrading edge to it. "My thigh ain't enough for you? Then why don't you try begging me for more, then. C'mon, I know you can do it." / "You want more? Move your hips then." / "Hands on the mirror, doll. I never gave you permission to touch yourself." / "Look at you, crying while bouncing on a cock like that. Can't handle it splitting you open like that, huh?" / "Fuck. Can't help but act like such a cock-hungry slut, can you? I'm not even all the way in yet."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He mainly uses low grunts and growls, though he does use a lot of dirty talk to fill the silence. Teo gets more vocal the closer he is to coming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Blog!Teo only ever kisses Angel :) It's already kinda hinted at in all da NSFW fics with him involved, but I'll take advantage of this situation and make it more official hehe

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I ERASED HIS PENIS FROM MY MEMORY, But I wanna say it's around 7 inches and extremely girthy. There's a prominent vein or two running along the underside with a slight curve to the left when erect. Even when soft, it looks like he's packing heat down there.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Teo has a high sex drive, but he can easily manage it. Surprisingly, he probably only has sex like... maybe four or five times a week? He's too busy being a public menace and setting things on fire. Now that I think about it, I do quickly want to reiterate that while, yes, Teo is a playboy; that isn't his defining personality trait. Since the very beginning, he's always been a lover of chaos and messing with people (/nsx) — not sleeping around. Flirting =/= sex, and Teo has always been so much more than just a hedonistic fuckboy. So please don't take this post as confirmation of him only being interested in sex (or sleeping with Angel)!!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Teo will most likely stay up a bit longer just to scroll through social media on his phone, though he is willing to initiate pillow talk if it's with one of his FWBs/regular hookups. If it's a one night stand, he'll only fall asleep once they're gone.

#Jesse requested this (I hope you feel better soon :c /gen)#I'll write you a lil Teo-centric fic as well hehe #💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about teo.#🔞 — woohoo zone.

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clerk427 · 5 months

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An open love letter to the entire Faith the unholy trinity fandom off sorts. I present to you.....

John in the style of 9 different artist!

(Keep in mind this is a style study. And although the whole thing was drawn by me, please please PLEASE check out the artists whose style I tried out. Thank you!)

This was SUCH a fun experience! I honestly love our fandom, and I adore how unique everyone's style and perception of John is. Says a lot about society or smth.

And even though I probably didn't do justice to all the art styles, I really hope they are recognizable.

Also, you might've noticed an empty spot in the end. Well, it's for you! Naturally, I wasn't able to include every artist, but I hope you will be interested in taking a spin at this yourself. Thank you and good luck!!!

A closer look, links and notes under the cut

@trashprinceward

I adore how soft this version of John looks, he seems so trustworthy and kind, gah. The shading style is surprisingly difficult, but I hope I managed to pull it off:) I also adore Prince's AUs hehehe

@rokiro99

A very unique colouring style!! I've seen a few versions of how this artist draws John, but decided to stop on this one. His face is so adorableeeee. I also LOVE the use of liturgical clothing and themes!!

@karamielo

Eeeeep I love how they use colours in their works and how well they use composition??? Like omg. Such such pretty works, I hope they create even more art

@justcommander

I lovvve how game-adjacent this artist's style is. I also love the way they (I'm so sorry, I'm not sure about the pronouns) draw hands and use body language. Also, the father and children AU??? Muah.

@shu-bullshit

I'm not even pretending I managed to pull this one off, I bit so much more than I could chew. But I couldn't not try, I almost every time I see their use of coloured pencils and watercolours, I just can't. Love love love

@zzoupz

So. As far as I can tell, Zoup doesn't use this style TOO often, but it wasn't leaving my head, I had to try. The artist did so much for the fandom, the Gary ask blog is such a treat. Yum

@genesissaturna

Hee hee he's so shapes. The legs. Beautiful. I wasn't sure about the colouring style since I only saw lineart done by this artist, so I decided to use the in-game ones. I hope they do more art, it's so unique and makes me happy!:)

@hammy-art

Wet cat John. Silly. A little pathetic, but in a nice way. I feel like I didn't make the lineart the way he does, it is usually more gentle, but I still hope it will suffice. Also my God he does amazing backgrounds, which I sadly can't portray here. (A personal thank you for giving me the courage for doing self-inserts)

Annnd that's it! I thank you for everything and I hope this whole thing will somehow inspire you. Keep doing art, let the world see your vision! Also go draw a pathetic blue priest /j

#i really should've asked for permission #but i really wanted it to be a surprise #i love you alllllll #faith the unholy trinity #john ward #clerk art #faith the game #ftut #faith #trashprinceward #rokiro99 #karamielo #justcommander #shu-bullshit #zzoupz #genesissaturna #hammy-art

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theweightofakiteofdreamsingold · 6 months

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Easy – J. Kiszka

📸 PC: sammyskiszka on Pinterest

Warnings: Explicit sexual content; mature themes; foreplay; language; MINORS DNI

A/N: HELLO MY BESTIE GRESTIE FRIENDS.

Please enjoy my soft attempt at returning to the fic-writing business with this teeny mini fic to get the creative juices flowing. I ask that you please be kind and patient with both Ken and myself as we try to get back to where we were before our break. We’re both lacking a bit of confidence, but hopeful that we’ll be back in the swing of things soon.

It’s been entirely too long, and I promise you all I don’t plan on leaving for the foreseeable future. I learned lessons in my time away, and I’ve come back much happier than I was before. Big fat thank-you to bestie Ken for never leaving me and welcoming me back to blog with the most open arms and making me feel as though I never left. I love you so much pal. 💚🥰

and to everyone reading this or any of our fics (future, present, or past), I love you, too.

Bajaest of bules forever and ever,

-Han

You hummed to yourself as you gently flipped your hair to one side, nimbly using your fingers to remove the backs of your earrings before pulling the posts through. As you sat them neatly on the sink, you glanced at the mirror in front of you, directing your fleeting attention to the figure bustling around in the bedroom behind you.

His back was to you, but still you watched him, as you often did when you had the chance, undo the few closed buttons of his shirt, letting it slink down his arms before pulling his wrists through one at a time. You watched his soft strands of hair flow gently across his shoulders as he worked the shirt from one hand to the next. Once he’d succeeded, you watched the muscles of his back contract as he balled the shirt up and tossed it into the clothes hamper that housed your shared dirty laundry. He paused there, admiring his shot from feet away, giving himself a self-reassuring nod before beginning to work on unfastening his belt.

You watched him shift his weight from one leg to the other as he unfastened the buckle, the sound of the metal softly jingling. You scanned the back of him and noted the curves of his back and his hips where his favorite jeans hugged him in the perfect places.

“Hey hon?” you called, picking up a wipe from its package to remove your makeup, silently hoping your attempt to look pre-occupied was enough to convince him that you hadn’t been staring at him the entire time he’d been undressing himself.

His head popped into the doorway then. “Hm?”

“Will you help me really quick? I’m about to hop in the shower. I just need help unzipping this.”

“Of course,” he started, moving closer to you and reaching for the zipper. Your eyes were so focused on his downcast eyes and his lips and how they sat just slightly parted while he concentrated on your zipper that you had no idea he was waiting for you. “Here. Get your hair for me, doll. I don’t wanna pull it.”

You moved your hair to the side for him, focusing back on his face and the tickle of his fingertips as he gently pulled the zipper down its track, taking special care not to force it. As he slid the zipper down your back, his eyes scanned your exposed skin, and you watched him cock an eyebrow, just slightly. A nearly imperceptible smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he realized you hadn’t been wearing a bra all night. Your cheeks blushed as he kept venturing lower. The dress was short, and the zipper ended as it reached your lower back. You felt him let go of the zipper, keeping his eyes trained on the spot where it stopped, waiting to see if his suspicions were correct.

You felt him slip his hands into your dress and around your sides, gently raking his fingers up and down the length of them. You slipped it off your shoulders and felt his hands creep up to cradle your newly exposed breasts while you worked the dress over your hips. As it slid down over your bare ass, you heard a huff of air escape him. His hands gently squeezed the swells of your breasts and you let out a breath of your own, leaning your head back into him as he thumbed over your hardened nipples.

He took a step into you, pressing your hips into the sink as his mouth found the junction of your neck and shoulder. He hummed against you as his hands and mouth worked in different places at the same time. You fought the urge to squeeze your thighs together and failed. As a result, your ass pressed back into him, and you felt his cock hardening behind you, making you squeeze again.

His lips broke suction from your neck at this, and you felt the tip of his tongue drag itself to the shell of your ear at such a slow pace that it was almost painful. You shuddered against his mouth and felt him smirk.

“So pretty for me, baby,” he said, his voice low in your ear. “Making it so easy for me.”

“Have to spoil you every now and again, Jake,” you said, grinning.

“You know what would really spoil me?”

“Hm?”

His lips pressed themselves firmly into your ear as he whispered to you, his hands roaming over your breasts, his cock still pressed into your back.

“Be my good girl and bend over,” he started, his clothed length throbbing against your skin, begging to escape and slip into your dripping heat. “Let me make you cum the way you like it? Hm?”

You felt the spot between your legs get even warmer, and you let out the smallest whimper.

He moved one arm to wrap around your middle, pulling your top half further backward into his chest while his other hand drifted down your stomach and between your legs. Your heart hammered in your chest as he slipped the pad of his fingers between your folds, his middle and ring fingers circling your clit.

“Want you to feel the head of my cock right behind here, honey.”

You watched his hand in the mirror above the sink as he spoke, seeing the flexion of the muscles in his hands as they moved. After a moment you noticed him looking at you in the mirror, his deep brown eyes even darker now.

You squeezed your legs together, trapping his hand, and he smirked for the millionth time in one night.

“Fuck, Jake,” you whined, your breaths heavy.

“Whaddaya think, angel? You gonna be my good girl? Hm?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sunandthemoontwinflames

#greta van fleet #greta van smut #gvf #starcatcher #greta van fic #jake kiska fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka

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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months

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Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

164 notes · View notes

da-birb-writes-sometimes · 10 months

Note

CONGRATS ON HUNDRED DOVE!! you sent me a risqué ask for 100 so now i do it back to ye-

"caught in the rain" with leona :D or ruggie, if someone got to him first! ehehehehehehhehehehe you can see stuff 😳👀 for free ✨✨✨

btw your ask is sending me so hard but i'm already typing out so much for leona so your ask is gonna be the last one for the event lol

Caught in the Rain; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader needs to get bonked with a stick (/j)

Content Warning; Swearing

Word Count; 700+

AN; Don't expose my ass on my own blog, Soru /j. (just trying to feed your own simping along with the simps) But I hope you enjoy what I wrote for Leona and this prompt! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The sky lay heavy with dark clouds, the smell of rain thick in the air, yet not a single drop had yet to strike the ground. The air was dense with humidity, warm from the harsh sun’s rays from earlier in the day. But yet, you found yourself outside, trying to find Leona.

He had invited you to spend your summer break as his guest in the palace. Well, less so 'invited', more so demanded.

“Do you have anywhere else to be, herbivore? I thought as much. Come on, you’re staying with me.”

You still don’t really know why, but you weren’t going to throw away the chance of staying someplace beyond nice for the summer… plus Leona wasn’t so bad once you got to know him. Yes, he puts on an act of not caring, and being abrasive, but you knew that he cared, that he worried. Also, the two of you had been having this back-and-forth banter for months; blurring the lines of just friends bickering and something... more. But neither of you had made a move. It just hung in the air between you, nearly as suffocating as the humidity now; potent with the possibility of a massive storm.

Back to the present though. You were on the outskirts of the palace, looking for wherever Leona had decided to take a nap for this afternoon.

“Leona,” you called, but all you heard in return was the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Where is that overgrown house cat? I swear if I get caught in a downpour because of him… “LEONA!”

The first drops of rain began to fall, gentle and sparse. But you knew full well that in a few minutes' time they would be falling hard and fast.

“LEONA KINGSCHOLAR?!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You heard an annoyed huff of air off to your left, and looking up you saw none other than Leona lounging in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“Ya don’t need to yell, ya know,” he sighed, landing softly on the ground. He looked up to the sky and frowned before setting a slow pace back to the palace. “Are you coming or what, herbivore?”

You followed after him, catching up so the both of you were going at a comfortable pace. Thunder was still rumbling, and the rain was slowly picking up, but there was no rush. Well, there wasn’t any rush until there was a flash of lightning and it seemed like the entire sky’s worth of water came down all at once on the both of you.

“Shit,” Leona hissed and guided the both of you to the relative cover of a tree to wait out the worst of the monsoon. “Just our luc-” He stopped talking when he looked at you though.

You were spitting out some stray rainwater that had managed to get into your mouth. But once the intruding water was gone you looked over to him but you felt your eyes lock on his torso; the white shirt that he was wearing was now completely see-through and you could see everything. Stop staring! Damn though- STOP STARING! But your eyes refused to move.

Leona noticed this, and he also took in your drenched appearance but was more subtle with it. “Tch,” he tapped you on the nose, breaking you of your staring stupor. “My eyes are up here,” his voice was teasing though, light.

You snapped out of it, catching his mirthful eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. You felt your face grow warm at the slip of your tongue, but it was true. Even before you openly ogled at him, you always thought that, but never said it to his face.

Leona chuffed, but he didn’t say anything; neither denying or accepting your statement. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” he said softly.

The two of you sat underneath the tree, still in your soaked clothes, watching the rain fall together in a comfortable quiet. And while the first golden rays of sunlight may have been stunning, the both of you thought it was nothing when compared to the captor of your hearts; each other.

After all, you still had the rest of the summer to build on this new development.

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pedrosdameron · 8 months

Text

Treat You Right || Joel Miller x f!reader

Description: When you and Joel get into an argument, your first instinct is to shut down and cry. Joel shows you how to come back to life in a very sinful way.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Porn with very little plot, Angst, reader has a bipolar disorder (unspecified), mental health issues talks, mention of medication, reader flinches when he moves once, arguing, hurt/comfort, slight dissociation, established (kind of toxic) relationship, unspecified age gap, unprotected piv (come on, you know the drill), oral m and f receiving, ruined orgasm, multiple orgasms, cumshots, aftercare, comforting!Joel, daddy kink, use of pet names, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her and is afab but has no physical descriptors

Word count: 2.6k

Recommended song(s): Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood

Crush - Danny Fischer

I Hope You Understand - Del Water Gap

Still Don’t Know My Name - Labrinth

Note(s): Hi everyone!! I'm so nervous to post this. This is my FIRST Joel x reader fic and one of my first rare attempts at second person, first tense so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. I also rarely write smut! I wrote this as a vent piece and I hope you like it or it can help you. Enjoy and follow my main blog: @delliestattoo

The sound of the rain splattering against your living room window is nothing compared to the harshness of his tone. Joel’s yelling at you, finger raised and pointed with that same, sly smirk on his face; he knows what he’s doing, he’s making you weak.

And not in the good way.

You can feel tears threatening to spill over your waterline, fresh and hot and not at all helpful to the situation. You want to speak, you want to scream, you want to yell right back at him; but you find yourself completely mute, barely even able to process the words he’s throwing at you. He doesn’t get like this often - the first time was when you brought up Sarah the first time, and the only other time was when you threatened to leave him; but those times were both understandable now, sole misunderstandings that you had caused.

This time, however, was honestly just stupid. You two had been arguing about where to go for dinner, and he called you indecisive, which your brain translated to immature and here you were.

“J-Joel,” you whisper, though you know he can’t hear you. He’s still shouting, and you know you have to do something. You have to say something. You have to get out of this.

“Joel,” you say again, louder this time, “P-Please -” you stop yourself from continuing, bowing your head with a muffled sigh. You didn’t want to argue anymore, you didn’t want to fight.

You just wanted him to stop yelling at you.

Silently, the tears begin to fall, and it quickly turns to broken sobbing, a hand covering your mouth to try and stay quiet. Quiet - which is what Joel is now, silent and staring at you while you try to compose yourself. You know he’s hating himself for the screaming, but you know you deserve it, and you think deep down he does, too.

“I’m s-sorry,” you manage to stutter, and you glance up at him, and that’s when you notice Joel has gone not only silent, but also still, his face completely changed from the moment before. You’re puzzled for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, when he walks towards you.

On instinct, you flinch.

“Joel-?” It’s more of a question than a statement, because now you’re just confused, though your tense body relaxes underneath his touch, his calloused and rough hands reaching for your shoulders, fingers dragging down your arm, and despite being relaxed, you freeze. You don’t know what he’s doing, and all you can do is look up at him with unsure, teary eyes, as a few tears still fall.

“Oh, baby, -” Joel says then, and you blink, mouth suddenly dry with a sense of something else entirely. Suddenly, you’re not crying anymore.

Everything’s fine. He’s talking to you. He’s looking at you and touching you and he has that sweet, thick southern accent - everything seems okay now; and you know it may only be for a moment, and you know you missed your medication this morning, but it’s okay now.

“Darlin’,” Joel begins, and you know this is about to be good, “Why’s my pretty girl cryin’ like that? Come on now, chin up for me,” he says, and you obey, raising your chin and wiping your tears. You have the sudden urge to call him daddy - the way he’s looking at you, the way he was yelling at you. It fits. It fits so well and so would he.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praises, and you feel your mood shift, already having gone from upset to nonchalant; but now it’s something different, now it’s a yearning you know only the man in front of you can fulfill.

“Joel-” you huff, biting your lip. You don’t know what to say to him to make him understand what you need now.

What if he wasn’t interested? What if he didn’t want you? What if he was just trying to fix what he had started?

“What is it, pretty girl?” he whispers then, and you feel your core burn hot. You want to sit down, but there’s nowhere to go, nowhere but his arms. You feel mute again, silenced, but then Joel rubs your arms again and you’re fully there.

“Need you, daddy,” you mutter, and your pussy throbs with want, with need. You need him to kiss you, to put his mouth on your neck; and you want him to shove you against a wall, throw you around, praise and degrade you at once. He’s staring deep into your eyes, like he’s trying to decide whether he wants to give in, and you open your mouth to say something but…

You’re cut off by movement, his hands falling from your arms down to your hips, and fuck, fuck, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Goddamnit, Joel,” you curse, though you’re sure he knows you don’t mean anything by it. You grunt, moving backwards, and pull your blouse over the top of your head with ease. The remainder of your clothing consists of your black biker shorts and a black, lace bra that you know damn well Joel wouldn’t be able to take his eyes - or hands - off of.

“Goddamn, you,” Joel grunts back, and just like you thought, his hands are immediately on you, fingers laced underneath the hem of your bra like he wants it off already. You smirk. The tears on your face have dried, and you no longer have bloodshot eyes, no, now they’re full of lust and longing that belongs to Joel and Joel only. “Need me already?” you ask teasingly, and you expect him to laugh, play it off like he usually does, but you’re met with a sudden force, throwing you up against the wall just like you had wanted. “Fuck, Joel,” you can’t help but moan, the force making your panties wet, heart skipping beats and core throbbing with a desperate need. “Joel,” you mutter, as you move to wrap your arms around his neck, “Please.”

He seems to understand what you want by the look on your face and the pleading sound to your begs, hands reaching around to undo your bra strap. You don’t have time for that - you move away from his hands, instead your body presses close against his and you can feel his cock hard in his jeans. “I wanna get you off,” you whisper, leaning close to his ear. Your hand moves down to cup his balls underneath the fabric and you give them a gentle squeeze, a gesture that was almost like asking for permission for you. Joel’s breath had already been heavy but now it had picked up, and his fingers were thumbing over your nipples, and you knew that was an okay.

You drop to your knees, not wasting any time with Joel’s belt. He helps you, and before he seems to know it your mouth is on his cock, lips wrapped tastefully around the tip as you bob your head back. His arm is hovering over your head, his hand pressed against the wall as he resists the urge to thrust his cock into your mouth; you know that’s what he’s thinking, because you’ve talked about it.

And you want him to.

“Come on, daddy, fuck my mouth,” you say, as you pull away for a moment to spit. You take his cock whole, and Joel cries out, hips moving to fuck your mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head, mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum as he fucks into you. Your panties have to be fucking soaked by now, you’re so needy, you’re grinding down into nothing. There’s no sound in the room except for the wet slapping sounds of Joel’s balls against your cheeks and you don’t mind it one bit, muffled and strangled heavy breaths coming from your end and rough, heavy grunts from Joel’s.

He’s getting close, you can tell by the way he’s breathing now; you’d been together for so long you had gotten accustomed to every sound. “That’s enough,” you say, voice hoarse now, as you pull away from his cock, which still thrusts towards you even after the loss. He’s not saying anything, and you know he’s pissed, but you know that would just make him fuck you better.

“Come on, daddy,” you murmur, your legs moving to stand, “Come fuck me.”

The two of you manage to make it to the bed, but you don’t manage to make it much farther. Joel’s got his hands on you again, and you can see the remorse from earlier reflected in his eyes, but you see way more lust. He throws you down onto the mattress and you let out a soft sigh, body going pliant. This is what you wanted, what you seemed to have needed. You just needed a man to throw you around and fuck you right. Treat you right.

You don’t bother helping him with your pants. He makes quick work of ripping them off of you, revealing your matching black, lace panties, and the sound he makes upon sight of them is comparable to a wolf’s snarl.

“Like what you see?” you ask, smirking as you position yourself for missionary - it was your favorite position, your go-to, and if you were being honest, you needed the honest connection right now. You needed to really feel him make love to you.

“‘Course I do, pretty girl,” Joel confirms, pulling his own shirt over his head. He’s completely naked now, and you feel overdressed. You shimmy your hips. “Take ‘em off me, daddy,” you purr, and Joel can’t resist you, diving for your cunt. You scream and fall back, a laugh falling from your lips as he drags your panties down to your ankles and then off fully. You can’t even take a breath before he’s got his mouth on you - and he’s eating you real good, tongue flicking up and down and swirling around your clit in perfect motions. It’s not often he does this, either; Joel never really seems to enjoy it, but right now he’s all in. You’re left wondering if he’s even breathing while his tongue attacks your pussy. Your back arches and you feel an orgasm approaching, and it’s coming up fast, your breathing now labored and your hips bucking up into his mouth for more, more friction, more anything.

You need his cock. You need it deep, nestled inside of you, holding you together.

“J-Joel,” you pant, a hand reaching down for his hair. You try to pull him off of you, but Joel only presses his face deeper into your cunt, leaving you breathless and out of energy. Your core is burning hot, ready to cum, and you need to. You need to release. You need it so bad.

“Fuck, fuck - gonna cum,” you manage to mutter, pulling at his hair again. Joel’s lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, and you scream, your orgasm rippling through you at the speed of lightning. Joel doesn’t pull away, either; he helps you through it, licking your folds gently as you try and breathe, cunt twitching underneath his tongue. You still want his cock, more than anything now, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes again as he continues to stimulate you.

“Joel… p-please,” you whisper pleadingly, with another tug, “Please.” He pulls away then, looking up at you, and you swear you could see the devil in his eyes, he looked that sinful. His hair was messy, his chin dripping with your juices and lips red and puffy. You almost wanted to grab your phone and snap a photo, but you know he’d kill you.

The both of you take a minute to just breathe. Joel reaches to wipe his mouth before kissing you but you stop him and pull him forward anyways, wanting to taste yourself. “Need you to fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, the sickly sweet taste covering your tongue, “Need it, baby. Need you.”

Joel pulls away, only to look you in the eyes. “Need me that bad, darlin’?”

You nod in desperation. Your eyes are filled with tears. All Joel does is let out a chuckle, and then he pushes you back down into the mattress. “Alright,” he mutters, “be a good girl for me and stay there, alright? Gonna fuck you nice and right,” he says, and you go pliant once again, body completely relaxed on the mattress. Your juices are flowing out of you and soaking the sheets but neither of you seem to care. They can always be washed.

Once you’re fully relaxed and ready, Joel climbs on top of you, and you instantly wrap your arms around him to bring him closer, his cock rubbing against the folds of your cunt. “Fuck,” the both of you say in unison, and then you both laugh a little, too. You’re always glad you can laugh with Joel in moments like these, serious or not.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praises, his breath coming to a halt as he presses his cock into you slowly. The both of you adjust for a moment, and then you’re grabbing at any part of him you can reach. “Fuck me,” you beg, “Please, Joel. Fuck me.”

He obliges quickly, shifting his weight to his hands to begin thrusting his cock into you. It’s a quick pace, balls slapping against your thighs every other second, and you feel so fucking full.

“Feels good,” you moan, “Feels - feels f-full, Joel.”

“Yeah? Fuck, darlin’, takin’ my cock so good,” Joel praises in return, and you feel your core start to heat up again and your heart swell. You’re going to cum again, and you’re probably going to do it quickly.

“Harder,” you huff, fingers digging deep into Joel’s shoulders. He grunts at the pain but says nothing, allowing you to take hold of him. If anything, it spurs him on to fuck you harder. “Harder,” you repeat, throwing your head back, “I’m gonna fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum,” you warn him, moving your hand to reach down and rub at your clit quickly. You swirl your finger around the little sphere and cry out in pleasure, bucking your hips up to meet Joel’s pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cry, breathing strangled, and Joel didn’t even have his hands on your throat.

“Yeah? Come on, darlin’,” Joel pants, his own orgasm approaching, though his focus remained on you, “Come for me. Come for me, pretty girl. Come on this fucking cock.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice - only once and you’re crying out again, overwhelming pleasure taking over your whole body. You’re trembling underneath him as you cum, fingers digging deep into his shoulder, so hard it could possibly draw blood; and despite the pain, Joel enjoys it, and it floods his own orgasm through him, streams of his seed spurting into your pussy. You can feel him filling you up and it feels better than anything you could ever imagine, and you’re way too dreary now to care there was no condom.

“Did so good,” Joel praises, as he pulls his cock out of you, and you whine at the sudden loss. You find yourself reaching for him, but he’s already shifting to move off of the bed. “Where - where are you going?” you whisper, sadness taking hold of your voice; was he leaving?

“Nowhere, my sweet girl,” Joel whispers then, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “Gonna get a towel, clean you up, ‘n we can lay together. Okay, baby?”

You can feel your eyes closing from exhaustion; between the fight and sex, you were beat. “Okay,” you whisper quietly, “Baby.”

DT: @swiftispunk @gracieispunk @ilyltm @darkroastjoel

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #troy baker #pedrohub #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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miffysstash · 2 months

Text

eddsworld | tom/reader SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tom is moderately affectionate, he’ll hold your hand in public and will hold you behind closed doors. He doesn’t like PDA in general because he thinks it should only be seen between the both of you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Tom would like a best friend who’s chill, someone who he can be himself around whether it be a day he’s just not in the mood for anything or he’s just as enthusiastic as the others. The friendship would start with Tom meeting you through the internet on a music blog, eventually talking almost every day to the point you flew to see him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Tom likes cuddles! He’s more laid-back when it comes to them, for example, he’ll just sit next to you and have you rest your head on his shoulder and just expect you not to question it. Tom almost always has you in his arms, but once in a while on a bad day, if you really ask him, you’ll be able to hold him in return.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Tom actually doesn’t mind at all the idea of settling down with you, before he met you the idea of getting married and living a domestic life didn’t appeal to him whatsoever. His cooking is alright, nothing special (he can make full meals though) but he might need some help to be on top of cleaning.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would send a text saying ‘It’s over.’ with no other context, and block your number. Expect him to be at the bar more often afterwards as well as drunken phone calls.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Tom’s already committed enough to have asked you to marry him, but he’s in no rush to get married. Not in an ‘oh in case I don’t want this’ kind of way but in an ‘I wanna savor every moment of our marriage journey’ kind of way.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Tom is surprisingly very gentle. He almost always takes your emotions into consideration and never forces you to do anything you don’t want to. If you don’t want to go on a roller coaster with the rest of the group? That’s cool, he’ll wait with you the entire time and get you a candy floss in the meantime. Are you feeling upset that day because of something that happened at work? That’s lame, he’ll verbally assault your boss with you as you lay your head in his lap.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Tom’s ok with hugs, he’ll absolutely take them if you offer one but he rarely hugs you by his own accord. He prefers relaxed cuddles, one of his arms wrapping around you while he reads a book in the other. If he does hug you? His hugs are very long, you know something is the matter whenever he hugs you as he only does the warm act when he’s upset or glad to see you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He actually said ‘I love you’ before you had even started dating, in a drunken haze, you both decided to go to the local park late at night after a bar trip. Laughing and joking about your lives, passing each other a bottle as you sat on an open field when all of a sudden Tom blurts out ‘I love you.’ Of course, he told you he was just drunk and said something stupid if you brought it up. Into your relationship, however? He drops the L-bomb once in a while.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I don’t see Tom getting jealous very often, of course, he has his moments when he sees others staring at you for an inappropriate amount of time but all he does is glare at the person and they’ll be on their way. If they don’t stop staring, he’ll excuse himself from you and approach them himself, telling them off. He also can’t help but be jealous whenever Tord interacts with you, especially if he decides to flirt with you. Tom will pull you away from him and pull you into his room where he can cool down with you in his arms.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are long but sweet, almost like he never wants to separate from you. His favorite places to kiss you are your lips and your neck, pressing loving trails along the sensitive skin, making you shudder which in turn makes him want to kiss you more. He likes to be kissed on the lips, you standing on your toes just to kiss him (even though he’s the shortest of his friends), he can’t help but chuckle at your prolonged effort.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Out of the four, he’s the best with children. He doesn’t get bothered by the screaming and crying whenever you two go out in public so he automatically wins. He can also go along with whatever they say, supporting them in the “adventures” that they tell him about. “Oh yeah, you saw a fairy? Cool kid, let’s go find it.” He doesn’t really care if you both have kids or not, if you want some? Cool. If you don’t? Cool.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Tom is NOT a morning person, so mornings are usually spent in his or your bed. His arms lazily wrapped around you as he softly mumbles in his sleep. You can never tell what he’s saying but the soft ineligible words are soothing and you now can’t fall asleep without them. When he finally wakes up, your morning is kind of like a married couple’s morning where you both get ready together while talking about whatever drifts into your minds.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are much different than mornings as Tom contradicts his mornings by being a night owl. They’re super chill as you both can talk for hours as Tom practices a few chords on Susan or you both watch TV while cuddling on the couch. Tom could talk to you for hours, about what? He doesn’t care, especially when you ramble because he can look at you passionately as you talk about something you enjoy/are interested in.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Tom doesn’t reveal anything right away, it takes him time to start being open with you and even then it’s very limited during your friendship. He’s very slow with being open but eventually, he’ll start revealing things deep into your romantic relationship, stuff like what happened with his parents and the alcohol intake.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Besides with Tord, he’s an incredibly patient person. He’s so used to his friends being crazy and idiots that nothing really bothers him anymore. He rarely gets angry around or with you, except when someone is actively bothering you where he gets more frustrated and annoyed than anything.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers the basic stuff about you like your likes and dislikes, but especially your taste in music. He even makes playlists for you based on your favorites and will listen to them on his own time. BEWARE IF YOU GIVE THIS MAN YOUR SPOTIFY! He saves all your saved playlists to his own and will tease you with them as he plays them outloud in his room.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship was definitely the first time the both of you kissed, he had taken you to an underground concert where one of your favorite indie bands was playing and you two spent the entire night hand in hand while they played up on stage. Eventually, the show ended and you two sat on a bench outside the building and eventually kissed, your arms wrapped around each other as the night air filled with the chirp of crickets and faint sounds of cars rolling by.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tom can be protective when someone is making you uncomfortable, but all he does is pull you away from the situation or tell them off himself in a private setting so you won’t be embarrassed. He’s also protective sometimes around Tord, but will lay off if he leaves the both of you alone. He would think it’s not necessary to protect him as he wouldn’t ever look at somebody else but he can’t help but smile and chuckle if you protect him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in average effort, of course, he makes sure to take you out to do things you like and gets you small things here and there that remind him of you (your apartment is full of little trinkets he’s bought you here and there). On anniversaries, he begrudgingly gets help from the others to make sure he gets everything right. With everyday tasks, he tries to at least help you as much as he can.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Tom’s sometimes too sarcastic for his own good. He has his moments where he can be just as ridiculous as the other three but he’s often off to the side, making sarcastic witty remarks, and sometimes goes too far with you. He doesn’t realize he’s insulting you until he hears from his friends how upset you are in the other room.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not too concerned, he knows what he likes with his checkered shit. He also uses stuff like hair gel and cologne from time to time but mainly cleans up on dates, although he always has a bit of stubble on his chin.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, he loves you, of course, but Tom doesn’t feel incomplete without you. He doesn’t view it as healthy to rely on you to complete him. When you're married, however, he couldn't imagine life without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

A while into your relationship, he’ll let you touch Susan and practice a few chords on her. That’s his sign of total trust and commitment to you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Tom would not like someone who is downright mean and hateful, especially to his friends. He may not act like it, but Tom truly has a big heart. His friends mean the world to him and to see someone who doesn’t respect him throws him off immediately.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Like I said, Tom is a night owl. He stays up mostly all night whether it be practicing on Susan, watching TV and drinking, or just talking with either his friends or you. When it comes time to sleep, he wraps his arms around you and lays your head on his chest. Sure, he doesn’t need you to fall asleep but you being there makes it a hell-of-a lot easier.

#not an #ask #eddsworld x reader #ew x reader #eddsworld #eddsworld fanfic #eddsworld tom x reader #ew tom x reader #tom x reader #eddsworld tom #ew tom #sfw alphabet

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zenithabovemarshland · 4 months

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Just thinking aloud about fame, celebrity, and Pluto in Aquarius...

When Britney Spears was released from the conservatorship there were posts about how it's likely Britney might not be as internet-literate or socially appropriate as we'd like her to be, considering everything she went through. The posts encouraged others to be patient and understanding, and not to cancel her if she happens to make any mistakes.

Just now I saw a similar point about Gypsy Rose Blanchard. Now that she's released she intends to make herself very public online, but her entire life (32 years) has been spent in either one prison or the other. There are concerns for how she might adjust to the internet we know today, seeing as how she likely didn't get the opportunity to grow alongside social media the way the rest of us did.

In the 2024 Year Ahead Forecast from The Astrology Podcast they brought up the Pluto in Leo generation, and how that period of time and that generation relate to the making of our concept of "celebrity". They're also the generation that are holding on to power (like the presidents of the USA). Pluto in Leo gen is also unique because it's one of the only Pluto generations that is likely to live to their Pluto opposition, which is happening now. With this Pluto opposition, the pod talked about how the idea of who gets to be in power is likely to change. As well as our concept and relationship with "celebrities".

In 1991, Pluto in Scorpio (square to Pluto in Leo, if it matters. Whether it matters is still something I'm exploring here), Michael J. Fox was diagnosed with Parkinson's. I'm not actually sure how public illness was allowed to be previous to that. I just remember growing up how Michael J. Fox was something of a special case, and his celebrity status helped make massive leaps in awareness and research for Parkinson's.

Hollywood became big in the 1920's, when Pluto was in Cancer. While Pluto has been in the opposite sign, Capricorn, I feel like I've heard about a million celebrities coming out with illness. Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, Bruce Willis. Recently, Celine Dion. If you Google it, there are lists of dozens of celebrities with chronic illnesses. Not to mention mental illness, which has become that much more public.

My feeling at this point is that there are themes of privacy, hidden and internal illness, and representation here that we've seen getting dug up from the Pluto in Cancer era. True crime stories from old Hollywood, being open about mental illness, exposing how child talents have been exploited by the industry, and of course, hidden afflictions to celebrities are changes we've seen around fame through the trine, Pluto in Scorpio, and opposition, Pluto in Capricorn.

Most obviously, though, who gets to be famous has changed the most in the last 20 years. It used to be only special, hand-picked people who got to be famous. Now it could be anybody with a cell phone.

I think of this blog post on the Aries Point by Ace (AliceSparklyKat), where they talk about how the angular points seem to manifest. They've noticed that celebrities whose Sun is at 0 degrees Cancer seem to be regarded as chameleon-like in their nationality, form, or culture, and those with 0 degrees Capricorn seem to be known for a peak example for one nationality, form, or culture. I wonder if this can be seen in this shift to influencer culture, particularly in the rhetoric that celebrities until now have been made to represent everybody. But now, after Pluto in Capricorn, we are much more aware of the consequences of not having fair representation of more nuanced, individual experiences. At first it was all about art and talent. Now, it's about the hard tacks of who gets what job and why, and the consequences of story. Very Cancer to Capricorn opposition coded.

Anyway, I feel like I've noticed a lot of celebrities becoming ill in the past, and now I feel like I'm seeing some "taboo" issues come up in influencer culture. I'm wondering about how this could be gearing us up for Pluto in Aquarius.

What do you think??? I really want to hear your thoughts!

#astrology community #astro community #mundane astrology #pluto in aquarius

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malusokay · 5 months

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serious, important, gigantic question i have . how do i start writing poetry? i'm really interested but just can't get myself started, lol. also what're some of ur fav books currently? i'm trying to get more into literature. love ur blog btw!

oh I love this question!!

I believe becoming a poet begins with being an avid reader. Once you develop a love for reading, writing will come naturally as you start to note simple observations from your daily life or random thoughts that come to mind... As you continue to write, you'll gradually develop a better understanding of words. This will allow you to become more discerning in your writing, carefully selecting words and being mindful of how you structure your sentences to convey emotions and imagery... slowly You'll probably begin to dip into poetry, even if it's terrible at first, it's a necessary stage that everyone goes through (I could write an entire post on why creating bad art is so critical lol). The key is to keep writing. Write. Write. Write. And write. It's strange how addictive writing becomes once you get the hang of it… this year alone, I wrote hundreds of poems!!

So to summarize: Reading -> writing -> Poetry

here are some writers and writings I'd recommend to anyone who wants to get into poetry:

(I got a bit carried away while writing this list lol…)

T.S. Eliot: The Waste Land, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Four Quartets

Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven, Annabel Lee, The Tell-Tale Heart

Homer: The Odyssey

Walt Whitman: Leaves of Grass, Song of Myself

Dante Alighieri: The Divine Comedy (includes Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso)

John Milton: Paradise Lost

Geoffrey Chaucer: The Canterbury Tales

Emily Dickinson: Because I could not stop for Death, Hope is the thing with feathers, I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Sylvia Plath: Ariel, Lady Lazarus, Daddy

Maya Angelou: Still I Rise, Phenomenal Woman, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (autobiographical prose)

Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Sonnet 43 (How Do I Love Thee?), Aurora Leigh (a novel in verse)

my personal obsession lies in ancient poetry (Greek, to be specific), though I understand that it may not be everyone's cup of tea. But if you want to know more about that — or have any more literature-related questions in general — please let me know or send me another ask, and I'll be happy to share more!! <3

#malusokay #girl blogger #askmalu #literature #poetry #writing

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 4 months

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My son Yanqing!!!!!!! (hides the angsty ideas) Do you have any headcannons for him?

HOLY COW WTH YOU GUYS ARE FAST—I OPEN MY HSR REQ AND THERE'S ALREADY ONE REQUEST IN MY MAILBOX—

And yes hide those angsty ideas for later—I traumatize him too, even though I love him-

I do have a few headcanons of Yanqing, so allow me to scrape them together into one fat pile!

Yanqing Headcanons!

(Disclaimers: Keep in Mind, this is Strictly Platonic! Might be OOC as well!)

I'd like to imagine that Yanqing loves to hide up in trees or areas where he is able to fit himself in. Especially closets. idk why but I sometimes see him as a gremlin child /pos

After a frustrating chess match with the General, I imagine Yanqing doesn't touch a starchess board for a week or two until he goes right back at it to beat his father old man. Boi is very ambitious

I feel like after the Luofu Story Quest and (probably) Jingliu's Companion Quest, Yanqing tries to avoid the topic entirely about the High Cloud Quintet and their history, and the times that he does talk/mention them, it's usually very surface-level questions. He may be young, but he knows how to read the room—he is the lieutenant after all.

Yanqing has curfew because we all know Jing Yuan would get grey hairs if Yanqing stayed up all night to practice and run drills. Sometimes Yanqing does it just to make Jing Yuan feel old/grow grey hairs, and somehow he actually still has the energy to keep up with the day—

(On the angst note but) I feel like Yanqing might have picked up the bad habit of the General's where he just swallows up how he truly thinks and feels and keeps it secluded to himself. Yanqing is mainly expressive through his expressions due to his age, but he certainly keeps his damaged pride hidden very well—especially under important/urgent circumstances. Humility is hard to face when pride is all that you got—something which I think Yanqing kind of lives up to in a sense.

And that's all I got for the Swallow Boy! I hope you enjoyed these headcanons of mine, anon :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I need to stop encouraging angst before it becomes an issue /j

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#honkai x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #honkai star rail yanqing #honkai yanqing #hsr yanqing #star rail x you #hsr #star rail yanqing #yanqing #yanqing hsr #platonic hsr #platonic genshin x reader #platonic relationships #platonic #platonic honkai star rail

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honeyshiddendesire · 1 month

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Dirty Alphabet

Fujitora x Female Reader *I did not make this template unfortunately I can’t remember where it’s from since I saved it months ago and finally did it today. But i have a clean copy as well*

*banner*

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

A literal KING at aftercare. He’d run a bath for you or get you a warm rag making sure you’re treated like royalty. You can NOT tell me otherwise cause that man just screams compassion and tenderness

B = Breath Play (do they like it done to them or doing the deed)

I literally wrote a story on my last blog about this exact kink lol I think he would love to choke you as well as receive. Anything you give this man he’ll accept with a smile. But I think with his lack of vision he would enjoy feeling your pulse in the palm of his hands, all the hitched breaths and sounds you make going straight to his dick.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think this man would live for cream pies or maybe I’m just biased lol but then also cumming down your throat. Anything that involves him feeling the warmth of your body would drive him insane

D = Dirtiest Kink (what they think is their dirtiest kink)

PANTY THIEF!! If he knows he’s about to be on a long mission I can see him taking a pair of your panties and not a clean pair either lol Best believe he will snag a dirty pair just to have your scent with him, using it to jerk off and loving the fact that he has your smell wrapped around his cock. It feels almost like you’re there in the room with him.

E = Exhibitionist? (Do they like being watched)

If that’s what you want then he is more than willing to give that to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press master and don’t tell me no lol he’s a large man and I think he would love having his weight cage you from above. Feeling your legs wrapped around his large squishy waist would drive him insane. The way your nails would scratch at his back making him hiss or wrapped around his neck pulling him close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

If you’re goofy I can see him matching the energy, if you’re passionate then so is he. He’d never tease you more than you can handle though

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I definitely think he has a bush and if you want it gone then you’ll have to be the one to do it lol

I = Initiation (how do they get you going? Vice versa )

His hands are his eyes so he’ll be very handsy. Coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you using his kind words to drip over you, spilling in poetic dirty talk that makes you melt into his touch. All you have to do is touch this man and he’s rising like the sun lol

J = Jealous (how do they get when jealous )

Calm af but I can see him getting jealous if it’s someone like Akainu and I don’t know why lol

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Babyyyy this man got a voice kink and dont tell me otherwise. He loves talking and hearing you talk back. I make him pretty poetic even in bed so hearing you engage back with his seductive words would make him melt but if you’re not good with your words thats fine as long as you don’t hold in your moans/screams/whines and whimpers.

Thigh Riding! I can see him enjoying the feel of you soaking his thigh as you sit on his lap, your hands clinging to his shoulders for leverage as he manhandles you back and forth on his muscled thighs. His lips spilling filth the entire time

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his private home garden and anywhere and everywhere in the house. Kitchen sex bent over the counter? Sure! During your relaxing bath together? Absoulately. In the bedroom? Obviously.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice, your smell, your hands lingering gently over his skin, just you in general

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No heavy bondage, if you wanna be tied up cool but whipping you or using his sword on you is not an option. He trusts his skills but you’re still to precious

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both and honey if that mouth can say the sweetest words best believe he spell them in that pussy too

P = Position (favorite position)

You on top riding him till your heart is content and satisfied

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yesssss anything involving you lol

R = Rope (shibari, bondage? Do they like it?)

Very light rope use used on you but if you wanted to tie him up as well then go for it.

S = Sharing? (Are they willing to share you?)

Honestly I feel like it depends on who’s trying to get in on the action. Akainu? Fuck no. Garp? I can totally see it happening and I don’t know why lol

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t see him owning toys for himself but for you, yes. Vibrators, some silk ropes, pretty fluffy handcuffs stuff like that

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I can picture him only teasing for so long, wanting to work you up till you’re begging and finally he gives in

V = Voyeur (do they like to watch)

I’m sure he’d want to if he could lol but he loves listening while you pleasure yourself

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Flower pet names all day every day

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Heavy hitter for sure cause have you seen the size of that big juicy man ??!!!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I can see spending many years alone until you came along so I feel like if your libido is high then boom so is his now and if you’re more chill then so be it. Like the ocean I can see him going with the flow as long as you’re satisfied

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Nah he’s waiting until you’re all comfy, if you want to stay up and talk after or cuddle some more then he’s there for you. Like I listed on the aftercare slot he is a literal king full of compassion for you.

#fujitora issho #admiral fujitora #one piece fujitora #one piece #one piece headcanons #honeys works 🍯#fujitora x female reader #dirty alphabet Headcannons #Fujitora Headcannons #one piece smut #one piece fujitora smut #fujitora is my love #admiral fujitora smut #admiral issho fujitora

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babyjakes · 1 year

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ever green, evermore | 4. difficult introductions.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter (coming soon!) →

summary | loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

characters | caretaker!jake jensen, daddy!ari levinson, wrenley beauchamp (original character)

warnings | mentions/depictions of domestic and sexual violence, mental health themes: anxiety/panic disorders, trauma and post-traumatic-stress, eating disorders (restrictive subtype), therapeutic methods and tools: exposure, age regression.

After such a difficult afternoon, Jake was a bit worried Wren might be scared away from visiting again. But luckily, their routine resumed uninterrupted; if anything, it almost seemed to the man as if the entire experience had actually brought him closer to the girl than he was before. It made sense, in a way, as she had shown more vulnerability than ever, and he had managed to maintain her trust through it all. He had done what he had hoped to do: gently encourage her to step outside her comfort zone while still respecting her emotional needs. In the days following, once he knew he and Wren were still on good terms, Jake found himself relieved that he had managed to take a few steps forward with his friend without completely pushing her too far.

For a while after that, the hardest part was simply the little one's apologies. They were plentiful and unyielding; it seemed she just couldn't adequately express her guilt and shame no matter how hard she tried. Jake was more than happy to listen to anything that might be on Wren's mind, and when the 'sorry's just seemed to keep coming and coming, he held no frustration or annoyance with her. He knew it was just her mind convincing her she had to make up for what she had "done." But it broke his heart to see her so anguished, especially when she often ended up in tears through her scrambled words. All he could do was accept her apologies and promise that she was forgiven, or even further, that there was nothing to forgive in the first place— of course no one was mad at her. Of course they understood. It just seemed as though it was going to take a good long while to convince Wren of that.

Weeks went by and Jake figured it would be best to just put off any further attempts at the meeting for the time being, even after the final apology had seemingly been given. He and Ari were in agreement that this would most likely be best, considering how upsetting the entire ordeal had been for the poor girl. But then, out of the blue, Wren surprised them both by asking for another go at it, herself.

It was early one morning as she and Jake tended the garden together, the courage to ask the question seeming to come from nowhere as her little voice piped up amidst the balmy heat of the summer air, "J-Jakey?"

Looking up from the blush-colored peonies before him, the man raised a gentle brow at her as he hummed, "Hmm? What's up, darlin'?"

Wren's hands paused over the greenery, her small fingers fiddling with her clump of weeds as she kept her gaze low. Bottom lip puffing out a bit, she couldn’t seem to make it past that point on her own. Sensing her hesitancy, Jake pulled back from his work, wanting to give her his full attention. "What's on your mind, sweet girl?" It was rare for her to ever speak first, even after all the time they'd spent together. She was just a quiet presence; she rarely initiated any conversation of her own.

"Just w-wanted to ask..." she mumbled, her voice barely loud enough for her friend to hear. Leaning in a bit to listen, Jake nodded encouragingly, though he knew it would probably take more coaxing than that to find out whatever was bothering the sheepish girl.

"Go ahead, sweetie. You know you can ask me anything," he murmured gently, giving her a small, sincere smile.

Managing a cautious gaze in his direction, Wren caught it, mustering up more courage through a few deep breaths. "Just wanted... I was wondering... I-I..." Eyes falling again, she finally let out the words that would come as such a pleasant surprise to Jake, "I-I was hoping maybe... maybe I could try again... m-meeting Mr. Ari, I mean."

The man’s eyes widened a bit at her words. Wren seemed a little unsure of how to handle his surprise, so he was fast to snap out of his shock. "Oh honey, I think he'd love if we could try again," he smiled, his excitement audible in his voice. "You really want to? We just haven't wanted to push, y'know... we know it was so difficult last time," he told her sympathetically. Wren nodded, her cheeks darkening a bit at the reminder. "And that's okay, bub-" he added quickly, "-we know this is all so hard; I'm so proud of you, chicky. C'mere," he breathed, abandoning his spot across the flower boxes to collect her into a warm embrace.

"I-I'd like to try again, please," she spoke softly into his shoulder. "I promise I'll do better, I-I... I won't back out this time." Pulling back slightly to look at her, Jake was a bit concerned by the sense of urgency in her voice; it was almost as if she were afraid she might be denied another chance, which certainly would never be the case.

"Hey cutie, hey..." the kind man cooed, brushing her hair back from her face, "of course you can try again, Wren. And even if you do have to stop, that's okay. You can have as much time as you need, as many tries as you need, okay? We're just so proud of you for trying, sweet thing. You're bein' so brave, so, so brave." Tucking her hair behind her ear, he cupped her cheek, gazing at her softly. "So, what were you thinkin'? We can do this all on your timing, at whatever pace feels best."

"Well..." blinking bashfully, Wren admitted, "I-I was thinkin' about how... you told me, Mr. Ari really loves lemon desserts, 'member?"

"That's right, he does," Jake confirmed with a grin. "Good memory, bubba."

Tapping the toes of her shoes together, the girl continued, "Was thinking... maybe I could make somethin' special for him. And then... y'know..."

"Sure," he nodded understandingly, filling in the rest of the timid thing's words. "Bring 'em on over and we can give this all another go? I think that's a wonderful idea, sweetheart. He's gonna be so excited; I can't wait to tell him." Thinking for a moment, he suggested, "Maybe you could bring them sometime later this week? I know he'll be finishing up a thesis today or tomorrow. That should leave him with plenty of free time to snack with us."

Wren nodded, and though her nervousness was plain as day on her delicate face, Jake was encouraged to see a teeny glimmer of hope shining in the sweet girl's eyes as she stood there before him, her little cheek cradled delicately into his tender hand. "I-I'll make something super yummy, I really hope he'll like it."

"I'm sure he will, chicky,” Jake was able to promise her without a doubt in his mind. “Ari's loved everything you've ever brought us."

As he entered back into the house later that morning, he could hardly wait to tell Ari the news. Almost tripping over himself as he kicked off his work boots, he made his way swiftly to the pair of glass doors at the entrance to the couple's shared office, giving a light knock. His husband could be seen in his usual spot, amidst scattered paperwork and his computer which occupied most of his L-shaped desk. Looking up at the sound of a visitor, the older man gave Jake a smile, motioning for him to enter.

"Hey honey, you two all finished for the day?" Ari mused, hitting save on his document as he pushed back a bit in his chair. Jake found his way to his own seat at his smaller workspace, relaxing back into the faux-leather cushion as he nodded. "Hot out there today, huh?" the doctor noted, "I've been feeling the heat of the sun through the windows. Glad you two weren't at it for too long."

"You'll never guess what she said," Jake smiled, his excitement seeping through his attempts to mask it as his husband returned his grin, happy to see his partner so happy. "I was so surprised, Ari; I could've cried."

"What'd she say, babe?" Ari asked, now intrigued. It was normal for the blonde to report back on his time spent with his friend; many times he had the sweetest stories to tell of little moments they'd shared, but this sort of excitement was something new.

"She asked if she could try meeting you again," Jake beamed, "she brought it up, all on her own. I thought for sure after what happened last time, she'd never want to give it another go. But it seems like she does really want to meet you, even though it's so difficult for her," he told him proudly. "She was so sweet when she asked, Ari. I wish you could've seen her."

"Oh my," Ari's voice swelled, "I certainly wasn't expecting that."

"Tell me about it," Jake sighed, shaking his head. "I'm so proud'a her. She's really come so far, even in just the time I've known her. Hopefully we can keep working towards the two of you finally getting to meet, face to face. She's gonna bring some treats later this week, after you're done with your paper. She wants to make them special, just for you."

"What a sweet girl," Ari hummed fondly, the thought of little Wrenley making him something special, despite all of her fear towards him, just melting his heart. "Well, that'll be all the more reason to keep working at it," he chuckled as he motioned to his mountain of papers, "I wish we could have her sooner."

"I was thinkin' we should approach things a little differently this time," Jake mentioned, mindlessly picking at a few specks of dirt on his pants as he spoke, "everything seemed to fall apart when you came out for those few moments. Maybe it would be best to get her inside first, just let her look around and see that it's safe."

"That might help," Ari agreed, thinking for a moment before adding, "I guess since she's never been in the house, she might not know what to expect. You guys can come in at her pace, get your shoes off and get settled, that sort of thing. Good thinking."

"We'll just take it one step at a time," Jake nodded. "I told her it'll be okay if she has to stop again; I don't want her to feel too much pressure. I know she's so embarrassed about how things went last time."

"Poor girl," Ari frowned, hating the thought of her having to feel such a way about something she couldn't even control to begin with. "One step at a time," he repeated Jake's words, "sounds like a plan to me, bub."

A few days later on Thursday afternoon, Jake finally got to send the anticipated text. 'Hey chicky, Ari finished up his thesis this morning. You free tomorrow?' Tagging the end of his text with a yellow heart, he hit send. A few minutes later, it was confirmed; Wren would bake that evening and make her way over in the morning. Ari and Jake were elated, spending most of the rest of the night trying to tidy up the house. While they certainly knew it might be another difficult day ahead, they couldn't wait to hopefully make more progress with the girl.

Around nine the next morning, Wren texted Jake to let him know she was heading over on her bike. He and Ari decided the older man would stay in the office while the pair of friends took their time in entering the home. "Good luck out there," Ari planted a kiss in Jake's hair before heading to the office to wait things out.

"Love you, big guy," Jake called after him as he took to pulling on his boots, standing in the entryway.

"Love you more, handsome!" Ari sang back before closing the office door behind him, leaving Jake alone for a few moments to collect his thoughts. He had a weird feeling about the day ahead, a good one. He tried to hold onto the fact that the whole thing had been the girl's own idea to begin with; that alone gave him hope that she might be able to make some big strides forward.

Taking his time, he headed out through the front door, deciding to leave it open while closing the glass storm door in its place. He thought maybe being able to see into the house would be comforting for Wren; he wanted to do everything he possibly could, down to the tiniest details, to help his friend feel safe. Walking down the gravel path away from the house, he was warmed gently by the morning sun as it stood beneath a thin veil of clouds in the sky. It wasn't too warm of a day, nice enough to open up the windows, the man thought to himself as he found his way to the front of the garden, stopping to wait as he gazed down the long road towards the hill. He could see a small figure traveling his way in the distance; as the minutes passed, it grew larger and larger, turning into a familiar body perched atop an ivory bike.

When Wren saw Jake waiting for her, she rang her bell in greeting like always, earning a smile from the blonde-haired man as he waved at the approaching girl. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted warmly as she made it to the edge of the drive, parking her bike in its place by the mailbox. "Nice out today, isn't it? Guess the sun's finally letting up a bit; this week sure's been brutal."

Gathering her basket, Wren nodded in agreement at Jake's observation as she made her way over to her friend, mumbling a meek hello. Her posture was already stiff; it wasn't hard for him to notice. When he pulled her in for a hug, he could feel her small frame trembling weakly against him. "Hey sweet girl," he softened his voice, holding her in his embrace for a few moments as he rubbed her back gently. "You're okay, there's no rush. I got you," he hummed, relieved to feel her relaxing a bit at his words.

When they pulled away from each other, Jake offered the girl a smile as he looked her over. "I like your dress, cutie. S'it new?" he tried to loosen her up with some small talk.

Looking down at her checkered beige apron gown, which she wore over a plain white shirt, Wren shook her head. "No, b-but I haven't worn it much this summer." Jake nodded, noticing it looked a bit heavier and warmer than most of her usual sundresses.

"Well it sure is adorable," he complimented. It was almost a bit of a routine they had. The man was always so impressed by her clothes; he commented regularly on whatever the girl happened to be wearing that day. Clearly she was quite the seamstress, certainly the most talented Jake had ever seen.

Wren gave a hum of bashful thanks as she crossed a foot nervously behind the other, prompting the boy beside her to take her hand carefully in hopes of comforting her. "How're you feeling, honey?" he asked, his voice low and sensitive as the little one's eyes fell to the gravel beneath her shoes.

Blinking her wide bambi eyes, Wren's voice struggled to come out steadily in her reply. "N-nervous," she admitted, carefully adding, "the cupcakes turned out nicely."

"Cupcakes, huh?" Jake smiled, taking the girl's basket from her to ease her load. He debated pulling her over to the bench, not sure if she wanted some time to get herself ready, or if she needed to just get things over with before her anxiety spiraled out of control.

"Mhm," Wren nodded, "lemon c-cake and... buttercream frosting."

"Those sound delicious, sweetheart," Jake reassured her, giving her hand that he still held a light squeeze. "What do you think, chicky? You ready to head in? Ari's gonna wait for us inside this time," he explained, not wanting anything to come as a surprise. "We can go in just the two of us, get our shoes off, that sort of thing. You can have a look around inside- we tried to tidy the place up as best we could," he chuckled lightly, hoping his carefree demeanor might help ease poor thing's relentless worries.

Wide-eyed gaze traveling up the now familiar path to the house, Wren forced down a swallow, nodding. "S-sure, that's alright," she hummed in feeble agreeance. Trying to take her response as a good sign, Jake smiled hopefully as he began to lead the girl in the right direction.

Their walk across the worn gravel footpath was slow, but at least it was something. Jake could sense the internal battle occurring in his friend's mind as she kept her gaze trapped warily on the front porch as they approached, barely willing to blink as if she expected something might jump out at any moment to ambush her. Holding steadily onto her hand, he murmured all the soft words of encouragement he could think of as they made their way, step by step. "Doin' just fine, honey. There's no rush; take your time..." "You're bein' so brave- I'm so proud of you, cutie..." "Look at that, we're almost to the porch! You're doin' so good, sweet thing. Just a little bit further..."

When the pair finally made it to the door, Jake was surprised a bit when Wrenley paused and looked up at him. Eyes wide with the most darling sense of disbelief, her voice swelled a bit as she cooed, "Look Jakey, m-made it!"

Raising his brow in helpless adoration, the blonde-haired man could feel his heart melting in his chest at the sweet girl's excited words. "That's right sweetie, look at how brave you were," he crooned softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "How're you feelin', buggy? Think you're okay to go inside?"

Appearing to muster up her courage with a deep breath in through her nose, Wren nodded. Raising up ever-so-slightly on the balls of her feet, she peered in through the storm door before her, her expression settling a bit as she took in what she could see of the home's interior. From that point, some of the living room was visible beyond the entryway; it all seemed ordinary-looking enough. "Think I-I can do it," she mumbled softly, her voice small yet laced with a bit of hopefulness.

At that point, it was going better than Jake could have hoped for. Grinning at his friend's response, he nodded, encouraging her, "Go ahead and open up the door then, honey."

The girl’s hand shook as she raised it to take the door’s handle, twisting as gently as she could to release its latch. Her attentive eyes widened slightly as she breathed in the mild air of the home, seeming to find some small sense of comfort in its scent. Jake simply watched as she gazed forward; after a few moments, he realized she might need a bit more encouragement to keep moving. “C’mon sunshine, watch the step up,” he told her gently as he entered first, still guiding her by the hand.

Wren seemed to be almost on her tiptoes as she followed her friend in, peering around curiously as he closed the door behind both of them. Jake’s heart broke a little in his chest as he watched her careful movements, recognizing her attempts to make as little noise and fuss as possible. She was the same way in the garden; it was particularly noticeable when the two were first getting to know each other. Over time she was able to loosen up somewhat, but that cautious, tentative nature never seemed to leave her entirely. It seemed like she was worried about taking up too much space, too much time, too much of anything. Seeing this pattern of behavior continue, Jake couldn't help but wonder what or who might have made her feel so guilty for simply existing.

Wren’s eyes scanned the home from left to right as they stood there in the entryway. From the hallway’s entrance, to the living room, over to the kitchen, past the office doors, and finally to Jake, she was able to at least conclude that the stranger she was so nervous to meet was nowhere in sight. Once she had had a chance to survey her surroundings, she seemed to relax ever so slightly. Jake smiled gently at her as her gaze came back over to meet his. “See? You’re safe. Nothing scary,” he hummed.

“Nothing scary,” she repeated. “Y-your house is so pretty, Jakey. So warm- and comfy.”

Jake’s face softened at her words. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m so glad you think so. Oh- and look who decided to come say hi,” he cooed as a little black figure appeared in the entryway to the hall, letting out a faint meow at the sight of the new guest.

Wren’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cat, letting out a small gasp as she greeted him politely, “Oh, h-hello Mr. Socks. It’s very nice to meet you.”

To the pair’s surprise, at the shy girl’s words, the cat came right up to Wren without a second thought. Rubbing his face gently against her legs, he wove himself around her a few times, a warm pur sounding from his chest as he did so. Jake raised his brow at the cat’s unusual behavior. “Oh my, looks like he found his new best friend. He must really like you, honey. He usually won’t go anywhere near strangers.”

Leaning down a bit, Wren offered the creature her hand. He sniffed it for a few moments before giving a signal of approval by pressing his face right up against her fingertips, earning a soft giggle from the girl. As she gave him a few scratches behind his ears, which he leaned into with great pleasure, Jake only grew more amazed at her ability to win the little animal over with such ease. He wasn’t a very social cat, and never before had he been willing to even come close to an unknown visitor. It almost seemed like he felt just as Jake did about Wren; there was something that drew him to her.

After familiarizing himself with the friendly girl for another few moments, Socks turned and padded off back into the house, disappearing over into the kitchen. Setting down the wicker basket, Jake finally felt safe to let go of Wren's hand, brushing his hair back from his face as he asked, “Well, what d’you say we get our shoes off and head into the kitchen?” Earning a nod to his suggestion, he bent down, taking to unlacing his boots. Wren followed suit, lowering herself to undo the buckles on her Mary Janes. Slipping them off each foot one by one, she carefully set them next to the small bench against the wall before standing back upright.

In those few moments, a figure had appeared through the glass of one of the study doors. As it opened with a creak, Jake was caught off guard by a frightened yelp coming from his friend as she jumped back in surprise. “Oh, hey-” but his words came too late. As his husband watched from several feet away with a worried look, Wren stood frozen for only a moment before beginning to crumple down into herself, pressed up against the corner between the wall and the bench beside the door. Before either of the men could do anything to stop it, it seemed the situation was dissolving right before their eyes.

“Oh sweetie- okay,” Jake tried, “okay, it’s alright. Here, let’s-” Stepping towards the girl, his heart ached as she ducked behind him, attempting to hide away from the other man who stood over by the office. Wren reached out with shaking hands, which the blonde quickly took into his own. “Hey sweet girl, you’re okay- oh honey,” he frowned as he watched the poor thing collapsing into a state of pure panic.

“Oh hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” Ari attempted to apologize, only causing the little one to flinch back harder at the sound of his voice. Cheeks flooding with tears, Wren seemed entirely too terrified to form words. All she could do was cower behind Jake and cry.

The two men were struggling to handle the situation; it seemed it was yet another instance of poor timing on Ari’s part. Smoothing his hair back in worry, Jake did his best to hold onto his friend, trying to think of a way to bring her back down to a manageable state. During his pause of thought, it didn’t take long for Wren to begin scrambling to find an exit. Eyes darting towards the door, she lunged before Jake could say anything, but he was able to catch her as he stood between her and the handle. She collapsed pathetically against him, the two of them sinking down to their knees as she sobbed into his white t-shirt.

“Wren, sweetheart- hey,” Jake hummed, bringing a hand up to smooth over her hair as his other arm held her up against him. “You gotta breathe for me, bubba. Just breathe, you’re okay,” he tried to best to convince her. As hard as it was to hold her there as she struggled against his embrace, he knew it wouldn’t help any to let her run. It broke his heart to see her so distraught, but he still hoped somehow that there might be some room for trust to be built amidst the profound fear.

“P-please,” she sniffled, “please… n-n-no…” It was the weakest Jake had ever heard her, her broken words barely distinguishable through her sobs. Taking a brief look back over at Ari, Jake tried his best to not appear helpless as he held the poor girl upright. Sympathy and understanding shone across the doctor's face as he watched the pair, his eyes connecting with his husband’s as they shared a glance of mutual pity. As slowly as he could, Ari took a few steps towards the two, wanting to give Wren all the time she needed in the safety of her trusted friend’s arms before approaching and invading their space.

“You’re okay, honey. I’m here, Jakey’s here with you,” the younger man crooned, rubbing tender circles across the girl’s back as she cried. “You’re safe, darlin’. I got you, just try and breathe for me, chicky. Big breaths, you’re alright.”

Inching up just a few more feet, Ari paused as he reached the step up from the sunken living room’s carpeted floor to the hardwood of the entryway. Glancing over with the gentlest of expressions, he lowered himself to the ground as well, hoping it might help him appear less intimidating. When she peeked around Jake’s larger form, Wren’s sobs only worsened at the sight of the older man now closer than he was before. As she met his gaze for the first time, Ari was somewhat startled to see how deep the fear ran through her darkened eyes. She wore a look of distrust he had never seen on anyone before, not even the most severely traumatized patients he had encountered back during his practicing years, and that set off loud alarms as to what kind of situation he and Jake could really have on their hands. Hoping to help his partner start easing the poor thing back down, the brunette began to murmur softly, “Hey, shhhh…” The girl’s head ducked at the sound of his voice, her little face tucking back into her friend’s shirt as he continued to rub her back soothingly.

“Wrenley… c’mon, sweet thing,” Jake tried gently, pulling back just far enough to search for her avoidant gaze.

Unwilling to look him in the eyes, Wren shrunk even further at the shoulders, appearing as though she was doing her best to simply melt into the floor and disappear completely. “P-please Jakey,” was all she could choke out once more.

“‘Please’ what, honey? How can I help, sweetheart?” Jake crooned in response.

“P-please…” Her voice trailed off as she seemed to be searching for the right words, acceptable ones as she tugged on the blonde’s hands pleadingly. “S-so scary, please Jakey…”

“Why’s it scary, bubba? Can you help me understand?” he murmured as he brought a hand up to brush back the little one's hair from her face, earning a weak whimper and wince as she trembled beneath his touch. “Wanna help you, darlin’. Wanna make it feel not so scary, can you tell me more? Let me help you, sweet girl. Just wanna help."

Bottom lip wobbling as the man did his best to coax more information out of her, Wren snuck another glance over at Ari before finally bringing her teary gaze up to meet the blonde’s. Jake could hardly handle seeing the distress overflowing from the girl’s baby blues; it took everything in him not to wrap her up safe in his arms and give in to her every broken plea. “S-so scary,” she repeated, earning an understanding nod from Jake as he encouraged her with his eyes to say more, “s-scary… gonna… please, he’s… s’gonna hurt so b-bad, Jakey.”

Both of the men's hearts dropped to the pits of their stomachs at the poor thing's admission of her true fears. With the wind nearly knocked out of him, Jake found himself having to fight off his own tears as his friend's words processed in his mind. Furrowing his brow, he smoothed the girl's hair back once more as he dared to stare her straight in the face. His voice came out weakly, "Wrenley, honey..." It was almost unbearable to look at her, those big, scared eyes filled with such a haunting sense of desperation and need. In that moment, Jake could run from it no further; he had no choice but to accept that someone had hurt his sweet little bird enough to make her this way.

From his safe several feet back, Ari was just as devastated at the progression of Wren's episode as his husband. Though of course he had the instinctual urge to give the poor girl all the comfort he could fathom, he knew that he needed to wait and let her seek it from where she was already comfortable. It was more than difficult; he was a softhearted, nurturing man in nature. But he knew his premature intervention would likely only make things worse, and so as much as it pained him, he simply rested his weight back as he knelt there, sharing a sorrowful yet confirming glance with Jake when he looked over.

"Sweet girl..." the younger man cooed, his voice low as he tried to find somewhere to begin his reasoning. "What d'you mean, 'hurt?' No one's gonna hurt you, cutie. You're safe- I promise you're safe here, sweetie."

Eyes falling back to the floor, Wren withered as she searched for words to explain herself, seeming wary of both the men's expressions of shock and alarm. "Just..." Wearing a heartbreaking look of something close to shame, she continued, "b-big. Strong, if he... gonna... j-just..."

Feeling guilty as his friend struggled to communicate her worries, Jake nodded gently. He could somewhat understand what she meant; Ari was, after all, about as close to a real-life giant as a man could get. With whatever sort of fight-or-flight she was being thrown into at the mere presence of an unknown person, the same kind of trauma response she had collapsed into when first meeting Jake, it made sense that the older man was presenting a much greater challenge than he had, himself. "I know, honey. I know it's so hard," the blonde murmured, "but I promise you, Ari would never do anything to hurt you. If he tried, I wouldn't let him- but he just wouldn't, chicky. He really, really wouldn't. No one's gonna hurt you here, Wrenley. In this house, with me and Ari, you're safe. You're always gonna be safe, sweetheart." With one of his hands wrapped around her smaller one, he gently linked their pinkies, giving a light squeeze to seal his promise.

Thinking it might be an okay time to try and start providing some reassuring words of his own, Ari nodded sincerely at his husband's words. "Wrenley? Honey, can you listen to me?" he hummed softly, trying not to deflate as the girl's tears once again worsened at his interruption. She tucked herself away into Jake's arms at the stranger's words, prompting the younger man to begin rubbing her back once more as she shook and wept helplessly. "Jake's right, sweetheart. I'm not gonna hurt you; I would never. You're such a special girl- you're Jake's best friend. Did you know that?"

Remaining hidden in the safety of her friend's arms, Wren managed a sniffle, unable to give a response to the man's attempts. Hoping her maintained state might be a better sign than coming undone any further, Ari decided to continue. "You've been such a big help in the garden, and we're always so delighted by the treats you bring us. You're the best baker I've ever met; I'm sure Jake feels the same way."

"Sure do," the blonde added encouragingly as he rocked the small girl in his arms. "Maybe sometime we can have you over to bake; we've got a big kitchen with plenty of space, and Ari got me some new kitchenware for Christmas. You can show us whatever magic it is that makes your goodies so yummy."

"That would be so fun," Ari nodded in agreement, trying to smile through his sadness in hopes of lifting the poor thing's sunken spirits. "You know all those little cards you made? The ones you put on your baggies with the pretty ribbons- the ones that said 'Mr. Ari?'" That seemed to catch Wren's attention as she lifted her head up just the tiniest bit, though she still stayed wrapped up in the safety of Jake's embrace. It was a small, subtle movement, but it was enough; seeing her respond in even just the slightest way to his efforts filled Ari with hopefulness that he might finally be getting somewhere. "I keep them all in a little stack on my desk," the man revealed gently, adding, "Every time I see them, I think about you and how special you are to Jakey, and to me. I could never hurt you, angel. You're too important to us; we care so much about you."

"So much, buggy. Ari's right; you're our special girl," Jake cooed. Praying he wasn't just imagining it, he could almost feel the little one starting to relax the slightest bit in his arms. He hoped more than anything that their soothing words were getting through to her; both of them did.

Softening his expression as much as he could, Ari was similarly picking up on small signs of progress. With faint optimism present in his voice, he asked, "Sweetheart? Do you think you could try and look at me?" It broke his heart to receive a doubtful whimper from the small girl, though he just hummed mildly, "I know, honey. I know it's hard, but you're bein' so brave- you know that? Jakey and I are so proud of you," he commended. "You made it all the way in; I know that must've been so difficult, and now you're stayin' here with us; you're doin' so well, angel. So, so well."

As the doctor crooned his praises, it was visible to both him and his partner that his efforts were slowly but surely working. Now more than anything, Wren was simply slumped against Jake, no longer trying to run. Bringing his hand up to stroke softly over her light golden hair, Jake continued his rocking motions, the feeling of her small body wrapped in his filling his heart with such a sense of pride and love.

"There you go, sweet girl," Ari murmured, the sight before him now seeming a million times more manageable than it was even just a few minutes ago. "You're okay, Wrenley. You're safe, see?" Softening his voice even further, he dared to ask again, "Do you think you could looking over here, honey? You did it before, remember? Just wanna show you nothing bad will happen, darlin'. Wanna show you it's safe, d'you think we could just give it a try?"

Keeping his movements as subtle as he could, Jake shifted their positioning to make it easier for the girl to look over at the man if she chose. There was a period of silent pause, both of them eagerly holding their breath as they waited to see what the little one might do. And to both of their amazement, after gathering up all the courage she could into her tiny trembling frame, Wrenley finally lifted her head up ever so slightly to gaze bashfully over at Ari through a fresh veil of tears.

As her deep blue eyes met his own, the man thought he had never felt so touched by another human being in his life. It wasn't the kind of affection he had for Jake; it was something completely different and new. It was the way a person might look at a newborn fawn when seeing one for the first time. There was such a profound feeling of tenderness, along with a heaviness to the situation that couldn't be ignored. As he knelt there, face-to-face with the girl at last, there was an unmistakable sense that he was cradling her entire fragile world in his hands. Her vulnerability shone through her eyes; she had let him in the door. There was no turning back. And in that moment, all Ari wanted to do was prove to her that he would do just as Jake had done, that he would protect her heart and treat it with the care it deserved.

Relief and compassion washed over his face as he gave her his softest smile, humming, "Hi there, pretty girl. See? Completely safe." Resting his hands on his knees, his heart all but melted as she gave him the teeniest of nods as Jake rubbed her back again proudly, mumbling sweet words of praise in her ear.

Catching notice of the little yellow head poking out of the girl's dress pocket, Ari's smile widened as he asked, "Is that your ducky, sweetheart? Jakey's told me all about him- I've heard he's quite the little gardener, just like you. Does he help you bake, too?" He didn't mind in the slightest if to any outsider it might seem silly; he was more than happy to treat the stuffed animal like a living being if it might help his new friend feel more at ease.

Surprising the couple once more with her bravery, Wren offered a mild nod. "I didn't know he likes to bake," Jake played along, glancing lovingly down at the little figure. "You'll have to come to our baking day, Ducky! It'll be a party in the kitchen!"

"It's very nice to meet you, Ducky," Ari hummed adoringly, giving plushie a gentle wave. In a moment the men both found all too precious, Wren's little fingers came up to find one of the duck's wings, having him give a wave back to the doctor.

Jake finally felt safe enough to relax in his embrace of the girl, turning to shoot Ari a triumphant smile. The older man smiled back softly; there was an incredible sense of calm that washed over the three friends as they sat there in the entryway of the home, seemingly past the worst of the group effort. Resting the side of her little head against Jake's chest, Wren continued to look over at his husband, the storminess in her eyes receding at last.

"You wanna tell Ari what you brought?" the boy asked his friend gently, earning an intrigued look from the brown-haired man as he nodded encouragingly. "She made 'em special, just for you," the blonde gushed as he motioned towards the basket with his head. "She knows you love lemon."

"I do; that's my favorite," Ari murmured with a smile.

Blinking sheepishly, Wren's voice was as soft as ever as she told him, "M-made cupcakes, sir. Lemon cake a-and... and buttercream frosting; it's my Nana's special recipe." Ari hummed approvingly, finding her mildly old-fashioned manners to be rather endearing; she was just too sweet, exactly as Jake had described her.

"That sounds so special, darlin'. We've got plates and drinks in the kitchen- what d'you say we go give them a try? I can't wait to finally give my compliments directly to the baker." After pausing to look up at Jake, who gave her a reassuring nod, Wren nodded at the suggestion. "Perfect. Here, I'll show you the way."

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year

Note

4 is perfect for horse dad joel!!! you could do a blurb of one of their morning phone conversations 🥰

Somethin’ Stupid

horse dad! joel x f! horseback riding instructor reader

A/N: thank you for sending in this request my love 🫶🏻 #4 things you said over the phone. 𓃗

~word count: 565~

Summary: one of horse dad! Joel’s and reader’s many cute ass morning phone calls ♡

Warnings: none, just a whole lotta tooth aching fluff and flirting of course ;) +18 only because my entire blog is not suitable for minors so dni!

“I’m sorry, who the hell actually enjoys putting ketchup on their eggs? I feel like that’s a fucking crime. Ketchup on eggs? That’s blasphemy right there!” You said with a light heartfelt laugh.

“Well, ouch. That hurts my feelings darlin.’ I am one of those people who likes ketchup on their eggs. You’ve gone and broken my heart into a bunch of lil’ pieces!” Joel deeply chuckled through the receiver.

“Gasp. So you actually are not flawless after all? Gotta say, Joel. I think this is gonna make or break it for me.” You let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Oh c’mon now sugar. Don’t go and sayin’ that! Bein’ all dramatic on me. You’re lucky I think you’re cute.” He grumbled.

“I knew this day would come. Whatever will I do? Oh, Joel! You have wounded me so!” Your tone was playfully dramatic and you could picture his little eye roll already.

Joel was in fact rolling his eyes as he took a large sip of his coffee. “Alright, Shakespeare. You’ve had your fun sweetheart. Now tell me I’m handsome.” He was grinning over the rim of his mug.

“Handsome? Now who the hell told you that you were handsome Hm? I don’t remember ever letting those words leave my mouth.”

“Believe you did last night. Or maybe it was some other pretty girl at the bar? Hmm.” He teased.

“Okay, okay. You’re handsome. Very handsome. Ezra’s got you beat though I’m afraid. He’ll always been the #1 man in my life cowboy.”

“Oh geez, now you got me out here competin’ with a damn horse? He’s gorgeous, I’ll give him that.”

“I’m just messing with you Joel! C’mon now. You’re a real cutie. There’s no competition, trust me babe.”

“A real cutie, huh? That’s sweet of ya t’say darlin.’ Now, where were we? Oh, right! What’re you wearin’ sweet cheeks?” He could picture your face, the little glare you would give him before swatting at his shoulder playfully.

“J O E L.”

“That would be me.”

You let out a light sigh, an apparent grin on your face from your Texas tall glass of water being his cheeky self. You pulled the phone away from your ear just so you could talk to your boys, who were all happily eating their morning grain. “Can you believe this guy? He’s such a flirt. Absolutely ridiculous.” You brought the phone back to your ear.

“Riding pants and a Star Wars Tee.” You finally told him.

Joel let out a low wolf whistle through the receiver as he leaned against the countertop in his kitchen. “Goddamn, that’s hot.”

“You sound like a horny teenager right now cowboy.” You giggled.

“You take that back right now.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You grinned.

“What’re your plans later?” He asked.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Oh? Well it’s me. I’m asking.”

“Well, in that case, I’m definitely free.” You didn’t even hesitate to respond.

“‘Atta girl. That’s what I like to hear.” He grinned.

“Uh huh. You’re lucky I think you’re cute. Pick me up at 7?”

“I’ll be there at 6:30.”

“More time for us to makeout.” You felt like a little school girl with a crush.

“Exactly what I was thinkin’ sweetheart. I’ll try and not say somethin’ stupid when I see ya. Although, you make it difficult cus’ my brain goes all fuzzy when I’m near ya.”

“You could never say something stupid Joel.”

“You’d be surprised. I say a lot of stupid shit darlin.’”

“Stupid cute shit you mean.” You corrected him.

“There you go again bein’ a real peach.”

“It’s my specialty.”

“Yeah? Think your other speciality is kissin’ me silly.” He chuckled.

“You’re so cute. Please stop it before the horses start making fun of me.”

“Never. See ya tonight, toots.”

“Catch ya on the flip side, cowboy.”

Tagging people I think would enjoy: @peterhollandkait @chaotic-mystery @korynnekorynne @lovers-liability @dinsdjrn @last-girl @wonder-harley @loquaciousferret @yazsos @death-wife

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #blue jeans n’ texas dreams fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #horse dad joel #joel miller blurb

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draco-dormiens · 1 year

Text

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Sixteen

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: angst ;)

wc: 3326

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! if your name is bold, i couldn't tag your blog :( tags below:

@lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019 @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @hnyusui @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans @xx-kiraa-xx @sunbruized @vinkiesz @snickersmee @fandomrulesall-blog @astheraa @idkatee @marsanhwa @vintageoldfashion @63sucker @j-n-i-c-o-l-e

Chapter Sixteen - The Night of the Ball

Saturday was met with pure excitement.

You woke to the sound of adrenaline filled conversations and girls running from dorm to dorm to show off their outfits. The thundering noise of running feet and squeals eventually stirred you from your prolonged slumber. Sitting up, you rub the sleep from your eyes to see the time on your bedside clock read 11:03am.

"Oh jeez," you mumble to yourself, "I missed breakfast."

Stretching, you throw the warm duvet from your legs and swing them off the side, expecting to be met with the wooden floor. Your feet collide with a box, and your still hazy mind short circuits for a second. It's wrapped in a blue ribbon, a card nestled between the bow at the top.

"Huh?" you sound, reaching down to retrieve it from the ground. How it got there was a mystery, unless Luna had placed it conveniently next to your bed. You take the card from the ribbon and open it, to read neatly curved writing that said:

and blue it shall be. see you at 7 in the common room. E x

Your eyes widen. The only E you are aware of is Edward, so this package must be from him, which only makes your stomach drop. Quickly you scramble to untie the ribbon and remove the box lid, rummaging through the pink tissue paper to be met with a sight that almost made you choke on nothing.

"Merlin above," you mutter, taking the blue fabric you knew so well between your fingers and carefully lifting it before you. The dress from Gladrags Wizardwear, in all its silky, blue glory, was folded amongst the tissue paper. You scoff in amazement, unsure what to think about the gesture after knowing the price tag. There was only one person with you that day, so Hermione must have told him. Did he ask her? Did he just guess? So many thoughts your mind started to feel even hazier. You take it from its box and place it over your body, looking at yourself in the floor length mirror. A smile creeps across your face, even though you had no idea how to thank him for such a gift. You stare at it for a long while, tracing the lines of it with your fingers.

"I could return it and give him the money back," you ponder, "or I could just accept it as a nice gesture and not feel guilty about it..."

Your stomach then grumbled furiously, bringing you back to the room. It was almost twelve in the afternoon now, so in order to seize as much of the day before the ball, you bundle the first clothes you see and head for the showers. You replay in your mind how you were to thank Edward, do you just show up in a dress worth Galleons or do you acknowledge it beforehand? It bothered you the entire way to the kitchen for leftovers. As you reach the lower floors of the castle, you catch a whiff of the remaining smell of delicious breakfast foods, enticing your legs to move faster towards the kitchen entrance. Upon entering, you see the tables full of foil covered plates and jugs of pumpkin juice. Starving, you begin peeling back the foil to see pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs and blueberry muffins. You help yourself, the house elves would rather you eat it than it go to waste. So engrossed in your munching, you didn't really register when the door squeaked open.

"Y/N?"

You turn, teeth still sunk into a muffin, to see Draco stood there. Quickly you remove the cake from your mouth and wipe your lips on the back of your sleeve.

"Draco," you mumble, "Hi."

"Hi," he says, cautiously walking over to where you were stood, "I, uh, don't usually see anyone down here at this time."

"You come down here after meals?" you ask him curiously, taking another huge bite from the muffin. He nods in response, taking one for himself. He peels back the casing, before indulging in the soft sponge with a satisfied hum. It's quiet for a while as you both eat, unsure what to say to lift the ever present awkwardness between the two of you now. Draco is the first to speak.

"So, uh, I guess I should apologise for being an arse the other night."

You wipe your hands on a nearby napkin.

"Yeah, you probably should," you say, looking at the napkin intently to avoid having to look directly at him. You'd forgive him in a heartbeat if you did.

"I just wasn't expecting to see you with-"

"Someone else?"

You break your own rule and make eye contact with him. He's staring back at you with an intensity, clearly annoyed about something he has no right to be annoyed about.

"I never said that."

"But that's why you were rude to Edward, isn't it?" you challenge, "because I was with him?"

Draco's jaw clenches. He feels bad about it, but yeah, he was annoyed.

"Just sudden, is all," he then mutters, reaching for another muffin. You scoff.

"Well, I'm not dating him if that's what you think," you spell out for him harshly, and Draco doesn't dare look in your direction, "I don't know what you take me for, Draco, but I'm not Pansy Parkinson."

You turn away from him, back to fiddling with your napkin. It's quiet again. Draco is picking at his muffin now, suddenly losing his appetite immensely. The tension is so thick you could spread it on toast and serve it.

"So, uh, you're not, like, seeing him?" Draco sort of mumbles, but you hear him loud and clear.

"No," you sigh, "but I am going to the ball with him tonight."

"Seriously?" Draco shoots you a disapproving look. It boils your blood.

"Is that an issue?" you ask, and he just sulks, huffing to himself.

"Not at all," he says, but it certainly sounds like an issue, "go with who you want."

"I hardly think it can be an issue when it was your decision to stop meeting one another," you then tell him, forcefully shoving your napkin into the bin, "this isn't my doing."

"Like you need to remind me," Draco mutters solemnly. You don't want to argue with him, but the ever growing distance between you is causing friction when you do speak to one another. And now this with Edward seems to have really grinded his gears. You let out a heavy, sad sigh.

"I don't think you have the right to be annoyed," you say, making your way towards the door, "but I get it. I'm guilty of it too."

"You are?" he said, stopping you in your tracks. You turn to face him one last time.

"If I am or not, it doesn't change anything. We'll be forever dancing in circles. That's just how the universe wishes us to be."

He has a longing look in his eyes. You wish to quell the demons that rage inside him and save his soul from his families clutches, but the further you get from him, the more you realise that you are just not that person. You give him a sad smile before turning back to the door, when his voice speaks out.

"I'm taking Astoria," he confesses to you, and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, "I just think you should know before tonight, that's all."

"Right," you breathe, "I can't say I'm surprised."

You left before he could say anymore, feeling tears sting the corners of your eyes as you make your way back above ground. He was left melancholy in the kitchen, caught between the selfish but elated feeling that you too were experiencing the sting of jealousy, and the growing guilt he feels for another life he has managed to taint. The rest of the muffin is discarded in the bin, along with any hope of keeping you in his life somehow.

As the evening drew in, the dormant nerves in your stomach started to swirl. You drew out the last finishing touches to your look, hoping that time wasn't moving as fast as it was, but the clock almost read 7:00pm.

Edward would be waiting in the common room by now, you imagine. After leaving the kitchen in a state, you made your way to Gryffindor tower in hopes to find Hermione. To your luck she was home, busy helping Ginny make some last minute alterations to her dress. When she appeared through the portrait hole, her expression immediately became concerned.

"What's happened?" she rushed to say, placing her hands on your arms. The comfort of her being near caused the damn to break, and the tears just wouldn't stop coming. She led you inside to her dorm room, locking the door behind you both. From there you proceeded to tell her everything, from the dress, to the card, to Draco and Astoria.

"I didn't tell Edward anything about the dress," she goes on to say, passing you tissues, "even if he had asked me, I knew you wouldn't want someone buying that for you. And as for Malfoy, he has some serious audacity to be the tiniest bit annoyed."

She always knew how to make you feel better, even when you didn't think anything could. After a long talk and a whole pack of tissues, the weight felt much lighter on your shoulders. Hermione told you to try and enjoy yourself, and that however Edward found out about the dress, he wouldn't have bought if he didn't have the money. "He must want you to wear it," she had said, "and you'll look amazing. Just accept the kind gesture. It's not like he'll take it back."

Now you were staring at yourself with the dream dress on your figure, hair done and makeup complete. You wished there was something that would make you feel the excitement everyone else seemed to be experiencing, but it simply wasn't coming to you. You check the clock again, and your stomach hits the floor.

It's time.

Grabbing your jacket and purse, you head towards the common room, passing excited groups of girls making their way downstairs. As you enter the common room, you look around to find Edward when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Evening," he says smoothly, "you look divine."

So did he. His tie matched your dress, and so did the handkerchief in his pocket. He was smiling down at you with a glint in his eyes, a look you had seen before in a different pair.

"Thank you," you breathe, and smile, "and so do you, Edward. You look lovely."

His grin gets wider, holding out his arm for you. "Ready?" he says softly, and you loop your arm in his, allowing him to escort you to the Great Hall. Along the way you see students and classmates, either with friends or a date, their faces a picture of pure delight. It lifted your spirits to see the halls filled with such happiness. From time to time you could feel the lingering stares, knowing it was because of who you were holding onto. You glance up at him.

Just enjoy it, you tell yourself.

Upon entering the hall you were met by teachers, all dressed in their best for the occasion. Professor McGonagall greeted you both at the door, a house elf offering a sparkling drink. Edward takes one for the both of you, and you sip it to taste notes of apple and pear. Several long tables are lined with delicious food and mouth watering desserts. Elves wander around with trays of drinks, some couples are dancing to the gentle music the orchestra is playing and the guests from outside of Hogwarts are mingling from table to table. The hall was decorated to the nines, streamers of gold and white across the beams and twinkling lights dotted the dark ceiling. Candles lit the tables, the sparkle from the dresses catching the dim light as people twirled together. It was a wonderful sight.

"Would you like to dance?" Edward offers you his hand, and you begin to feel a little hot in the face. You hadn't danced in so long, you were afraid you might have forgotten how to. Edward senses your hesitation, and then leans in to whisper, "I've got you, don't worry."

You allow him to guide you, his hands taking your waist, your arms finding place around his neck. He smelt incredible, the music drifting across the room as you gentle swayed.

"I should thank you for the dress," you break the silence, "you really didn't have to."

"Oh, but I did," he chuckled lightly, "I wanted you to feel as beautiful as you are."

That had you flustered. You smile and look away instantly, but two fingers press under your chin, bringing your line of vision back to him. Your heart is thundering, but it's a feeling of wanting to run, as if you're doing something wrong. He's looking at you so intently, thumb brushing across your chin. You feel hot, but not in a nervous way, in a suffocating way.

"You know," he whispers, "I really didn't think you'd say yes."

"Huh?" you sound.

"Well, after running into Malfoy the other night, I thought you might have history," he then says, and your entire body tenses at the name, "but, if you said yes to me, then I guess I was wrong."

"You were," you quickly say, swallowing thickly, "Draco is an old friend."

Just then, as if you had summoned him, he enters the hall with Astoria on his arm. At first you don't notice, too consumed by Edwards clear advances.

"Do you want another drink?" Edward asks, breaking the intimate hold he had on you. You nod with your best smile, and he leaves momentarily. You make your way off the dance floor, just wanting to breathe and have some space, when you finally spot him.

It was like the whole world stopped, and it was just you and them in a empty room. Everything else went quiet. They waltzed in, Draco's award winning smile charming the teachers and Astoria's hand firmly around his arm. She's wearing green. Just as you thought she would. Draco's tie matches. His hair is neat and tidy, his suit a dark grey. He looks incredible. So does she. You find yourself staring, and in that moment, like a punch to your gut, you realise many things all at once.

You were not in their league. You are not a pureblood witch. Green is not your colour. Draco is not yours. He never was. Astoria is better. She walks beside him like she belongs there. Draco is a far away as he is close. He is not yours.

Your feet move before you, but a hand stops you. It's Hermione, she's smiling until she sees the distress on your face. "What's wrong?" she says, but it's almost like everything is in slow motion, your vision blurry and head a mess. Edward then returns, a look of concern on his face also, when you finally snap out of your trance.

"Y/N?" he says gently, "are you alright? Do you need some air?"

"I'm fine," you breathe deeply, mustering up a smile, "just got a little hot, is all. Thank you for the drink. Edward, this is Hermione, I'm not sure you've met."

You take a big gulp of the drink Edward passes to you, and Hermione shakes your dates hand and compliments his outfit. Your eyes wander over to Draco once again, now chatting away to one of the guests, no doubt a family friend. Astoria is laughing alongside him, leaning into his frame and resting her head on his shoulder. You feel physically sick, until Hermione turns to speak.

"Have you tried the food?" she says enthusiastically, "it's delicious, they even have your favourite cake."

"How nice," you smile, but Hermione isn't buying your facade. Edward seems to be, which is the only thing that really matters, "shall we go and look, Edward?"

He agrees wholeheartedly. Hermione goes to say something, no doubt to ask to speak with you, but soon swallows her words. She smiles, and then excuses herself to speak to Professor Slughorn who had just wandered in. Once at the food laid tables, your stomach churns at the thought of eating, when Edward offers you a delicious looking slice of cake. You pick at it, listening to him talk about everything and nothing. You make small inputs, nodding your head or occasionally making a sound of agreement. He doesn't seem to sense the tension.

Just across the hall stands Draco, with Astoria on his arm still, running her fingers up and down his forearm affectionately. The gesture makes him feel uneasy as one of his parents acquaintances talk at him about their business and how 'wonderful it would be to employ a Malfoy someday.' He does as his mother had taught him; you smile, look enthusiastic and never, ever show how disinterested you really are. His eyes keep finding you, and the sour taste in his mouth intensifies each time Chambers hands touch your body. It makes his blood feel like fire in his veins. You look so good he's almost jealous of anyone who approaches you. Draco doesn't think he's ever felt fury like it, and when Chambers leans in to whisper against your ear he abruptly ends the conversation and detaches Astoria from his arm.

He ignores the girls call to him, making a beeline towards where you were standing. Chambers arm was now around your waist, but you make no sudden moves. Then you laugh, and it's so sweet he could drown in the sound of it. Almost there, you're within a reach of his hand, when the music suddenly changes and Astoria catches up to him.

"Where are you going?" she speaks over the louder music, "it's the main dance, c'mon."

She takes his hand. Draco turns back to see you had retreated, possibly towards the dance floor as well. Couples begin to twirl and spin, the dance floor now littered with warm bodies and rosey cheeks. His focus is elsewhere, eyes frantically trying to find you. Astoria's hand guides his eyes back to her, pulling him against her frame as he automatically begins to dance. It's been driven into his system so much that his feet move without his brain telling them to. Edward had made a snarky comment about Professor Binns, and you couldn't help but chuckle before his gentle hands guided you towards the floor for the main event. Once again your arms rested around his shoulders, his hands securely at your waistline as he effortlessly glided around the room. He was focused on you, his eyes never leaving yours as the swift movements of the dance transport you to another place, the feeling of flying as your dress floats around your body, taking over your senses. You felt at ease dancing with him, but at the same time all wrong. As the music begins to slow, he pulls you back into him, gazing down at you with that same glint in his eyes.

"You, Y/N Y/L/N, are truly breathtaking," he compliments, and suddenly you have no idea what to do, as he closes the gap between you. His lips are an inch from yours seconds before you push him away, his face a look of pure shock. You're stood in the middle of the dance floor, heart pounding against your chest.

"I can't," you say, backing away through the crowd, "I'm so sorry, I can't."

It doesn't take long before you're rushing out the hall, gaining the attention of Hermione who swiftly follows in your direction, but also the boy who had been searching the sea of dancing students for you. Draco races after Hermione, desperate for a chance to stop her. He follows her with haste out into the cold corridor, ignoring the fact he had just left Astoria confused on the dance floor. Just as a reaches her, he takes her wrist, causing the brunette to spin and face him.

"Please," he pants, a frown forming on her face the moment her eyes land on him, "please, let me go after her."

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

#draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hpff #draco angst

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