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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. ��How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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katiexpunk · 6 months

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Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice | Pairing Neighbor!Joel Miller & Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 3 of @sydneyinacoma's Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice series. Joel is your new hot neighbor and after a sexy night alone with him on Halloween (where he literally makes you squirt (!!) on his couch, you run into him after a long week at work and you two finally go on a proper date. You two eat burgers; go to a fair, and then he fucks you like it's his last day on earth. Yep <3

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.7K Warnings: Pining, flirting, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), Joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, Joel spits in readers mouth, fair date, eating, did I already say flirting, bobbing for apples. Listen, these two are just down so bad for each other. There are no descriptions of reader except for clothing & wet, curly hair. Authors Note: I legitimately feel so honored to have been part of this chapter with my Slutty Smutty Sister @sydneyinacoma -- writing this version of Joel has me creaming, and I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I want everyone to read this fic. This version of Joel is all her brainchild and I could cry at being part of it. Pls go follow Syd, she's seriously such a gem and probably the best Moot and friend a girl could ask for. ILY, bb. Sydney's Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.7K Warnings: Pining, flirting, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), Joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, Joel spits in readers mouth, fair date, eating, did I already say flirting, bobbing for apples. Listen, these two are just down so bad for each other. There are no descriptions of reader except for clothing & wet, curly hair. Authors Note: I legitimately feel so honored to have been part of this chapter with my Slutty Smutty Sister @sydneyinacoma -- writing this version of Joel has me creaming, and I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I want everyone to read this fic. This version of Joel is all her brainchild and I could cry at being part of it. Pls go follow Syd, she's seriously such a gem and probably the best Moot and friend a girl could ask for. ILY, bb. Sydney's Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

NOV 2005

You can’t stop thinking about that night at Joel’s a week ago. The way he touched you, pleasured you in a way that you've never experienced before. The way he kissed you, fervently yet soft. You could kiss him for hours and never tire.

Not only are you craving his touch, but you also find yourself wanting to learn more about him. You want to know him. The things you’ve learned about him through Sarah and what you’ve picked up on are tiny crumbs, leaving you starving for more.

You hope he feels the same.

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Joel since that night, as you’ve been drowning at work. You started working for this publishing firm in college, first, as an intern, and now that you’ve finished school, you’re an editor. You agreed to take on extra responsibilities due to your coworker being out on maternity leave, which has exponentially increased your workload, on top of your boss being a micromanaging asshole. Joel’s been burning the candle at both ends. He’s working against a tight deadline on a big project for a persnickety client and Sarah’s soccer team is in the playoffs for the district championship; he’s incredibly proud but attending her neverending roster of games has left him a bit preoccupied. He never thought he would end up being a soccer dad, but life has a funny way of keeping him on his toes.

Much like you, he’s replayed you squirting on his leather couch in his mind over and over, a never-ending lascivious reel that plays in his head as he fucks his cock at night. Joel longs to hear those saccharine sounds you make while you ride his cock, your tits bouncing in tandem with your movements. He’s kicking himself for not getting his hands, or mouth, on your pillowy breasts. The cheekiness of forgoing a bra in your bunny costume revealed a side of you that he wants to unleash.

He wants to know everything; what keeps you up at night, what makes you double over in laughter, your ticklish spots, which movies make you cry without fail, all of your little quirks. Hell, he even wants to know if you believe in aliens.

+++

You pull into your driveway after a long, grueling day at work. Your brain is so fried you didn’t even turn the music on for the drive home; a rarity for you since you always have music playing in your car, whether it be the FM radio or one of the various CDs you’ve collected over the years. A true indicator of your current state of being. You can’t wait to veg out on the couch, rid your mind of this shitty week, and huddle into an antisocial ball.

After a few moments of idly sitting in your car, you peel yourself from the driver’s seat and go to retrieve your work tote from your trunk when you hear a deep voice calling out to you, one you’d recognize anywhere. You turn in the direction of the sound and find Joel. He’s clearly working on a renovation project; a miter saw, lumber and a plethora of other tools are set up in his front yard. There’s another man with him, bearing a slight resemblance to Joel. Brothers, maybe?

“Hey, neighbor!” Joel immediately regrets his word choice, finding it oddly stiff — considering he’s had his face between your thighs.

“Hey Joel!” You manage to shout back, despite your energy battery being crucially depleted.

He waves for you to come over. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you’re unable to resist him. Not when he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, hair tousled, and coaxing you across the street.

Though you feel drained, being in close proximity to Joel makes your body thrum in nerves. You’re being energized by anxious attraction.

Joel and the mystery man greet you at the edge of the yard.

“This is my brother Tommy. Tommy, this is my neighbor.”

“So, this is the pretty neighbor you were tellin’ me about,” Tommy says, his southern drawl identical to Joel’s.

Joel glares at Tommy. If looks could kill.

Tommy holds out his hand, you tell him your name and give him your hand for a brief shake; much like Joel’s does, his palm size is large in comparison to yours and envelops your full hand. You survey the man in front of you; handsome, dark curly hair like Joel, slightly longer and free of the grays his brother sports, deep brown eyes, similar to Joel’s. The Miller genes are super fucking strong.

“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment, his eyes dragging over your figure just a second too long.

“I’m gonna start packin’ these tools up,” Tommy announces to Joel and then shoots him a wink. It’s obvious he wasn’t aiming for subtlety, clearly wanting to give you and his brother a moment alone.

Joel shifts his broad frame to face you directly. You wish you didn’t feel so bashful in his presence, but it’s hard to breathe evenly when he is standing so close you can smell him - earthy and a hint of his deodorant wearing off. It should be gross to you, but you want to put his scent in a candle. You’re fucking deranged.

“Sorry, ‘m all sweaty…” Joel apologizes, looking down at himself, remembering that he probably reeks like a locker room.

You wave off his apology, giggling at his self-awareness.

“I wanted to ask you somethin’,'' Joel says, gently wrapping his hand around your arm right above your elbow. Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the touch of his calloused fingers.

“Okay…”

“I was wonderin’...” Joel pauses, his fingers now grazing over the soft skin of your arm.

You gulp in anticipation. “Yes, Joel?”

“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to go on a date with me,'' he asks, his eyes dropping to his boots for a second before coming back up to meet yours, “a proper one.”

You’re so giddy at his proposition you think you might burst.

“Well, you know…I’ve gotta check my calendar,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face. You see his face drop, but before he can sulk too much you wink at him and say, “yeah, I’d love to,” you exhale and try to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away how excited you actually are. A date. With Joel Miller.

“You free tomorrow?” he asks, beaming, revealing the dimpled smile you’re so fond of.

“Lucky for you, I am,” you say, feeling your skin warm.

“Pick you up at 7?” he asks, dipping his face closer to yours, his hand now on your waist pulling you into him.

“Works for me,” you confirm while planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, “see you then, neighbor!” you conclude, being sure to emphasize the neighbor in your words, and before he can convince you to stay, you’re sauntering across the street back to your house.

+++

It’s finally here. Your big date with Joel.

The day went by torturously slow, anticipation pulsing through your entire body. You spent almost two hours getting ready, the majority of the time trying to pick an outfit. You probably changed 30 times, trying to find the outfit that conveyed the perfect balance of sexy, yet subdued.

You decide on a pair of dark wash flares and a lacy top, both accentuating your figure heavenly. You spritz on a little perfume you save for special occasions. If this ain’t a hell of an occasion.

Joel, with impeccable timing, rings the doorbell right as you tug your black cowboy boots on. It’s sill relatively warm in Austin, so you decide to forgo a jacket.

Opening the door, you and Joel take a moment to check the other out, neither of you trying to hide it whatsoever. Joel’s wearing his signature jeans and a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his veiny, strong forearms. You’d hump his arms given the opportunity.

“Absolutely stunnin’, sweetheart,” he licks his bottom lip while his brown irises roam over your entire body, paying special attention to your waist and tits. You’re mentally patting yourself on the back for your outfit choice.

“One could say the same for you, cowboy,” you quip back, a smug grin plastered across your face.

Your smile shoots blood straight to Joel’s cock.

He swallows as he realizes the night is just beginning.

+++

Joel takes you to a quaint diner for your date. From the outside, it’s unassuming; an older building in urgent need of a pressure wash, adjacent to a virtually empty shopping center. A true hole-in-the-wall in the middle of downtown Austin.

“It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but I promise ya, they got the best damn burgers in town,” he assures, seeing the questioning look on your face when he pulls into the parking lot.

You and Joel slide into a booth in the far corner, Joel insisting that booth seating is part of the experience. You both order burgers, per his recommendation and boy, it does not disappoint.

Between bites of food, you and Joel learn more about each other. The conversation flows easily, both hanging onto each other’s every word; no awkwardness or feigning interest. You both share parts of your childhoods and you share stories from your college days. Joel recounts the mischief he and Tommy got into when they were younger, earning several belly laughs from you.

Joel loves the way you laugh; candidly, throwing your head back, your shoulders jerking uncontrollably as you try to catch a breath.

You’re pleased to learn that both you and Joel have a fondness for 80’s action movies, especially the over-the-top-borderline-cheesy ones, and 70’s artists like Fleetwood Mac and Electric Light Orchestra.

Joel asks about your job as an editor. You tell him the different types of manuscripts you have to read; some you drudge through, others you enjoy. “I love seeing how the story progresses from the first rough draft up until the final copy,” you tell him,” a lot of authors are really full of themselves, so you have to boil down a lot of the flowery language and hubris.”

In return, he tells you about how he got started as a contractor, hard work rewarded him with promotions until he opened up his own contracting business six years ago. “It’s priceless gettin’ to be your own boss,” he says, “not havin’ to answer to anyone, can be more selective in projects you wanna take on,” he continues, and you swear you’re listening but you’re secretly caught up in the sound of his voice and the way his lips move when he’s talking; hypnotizing you with every word.

Joel opens up about when Sarah came into this world; the happiest day of his life while simultaneously being scared shitless — he was wild and ungovernable, definitely not ready for fatherhood.

Through the years he’s found his rhythm. He doesn’t talk about her mother and you don’t ask; you’re not looking to dig into that lore on the first date. He tells you what Sarah was like as a baby and the subsequent years. Your heart melts at the adoration and pride that glow in his eyes when he talks about his daughter.

You both sit in the overused booth, totally absentminded to the world around you. You’re both locked into one another, afraid of missing even the faintest shift in facial expressions. You might as well be the only two people here.

Taking the final bite of your burger, you tell Joel that you’re inclined to agree that these are the best burgers in town.

He mumbles something to the effect of “told ya,” before finishing his last bite.

On the ride home from the diner, you spot an illuminated Ferris wheel, glowing in the distance of the Austin night.

“Oh, I didn’t know the fair was still in town. I haven’t been in years!” exclaiming a little loudly for a woman your age, “can we…..?”

Joel can’t say no to you, not when you’re giving him a pleading, pouty look.

+++

Once inside the fairgrounds, you both walk through the selection of vendors, and it doesn’t take long for the funnel cake sign to catch your eye; Joel purchases you one and you continue on your adventure together.

“Here,” he says, offering you a paper napkin.

You gently shake your head, shoving another bite of funnel cake into your mouth, “don’t need one.”

He laughs. You look like a stubborn child learning what sugar is for the first time, “you’re gonna get all sticky,” he says, a big grin enveloping his face, your eagerness for the sweetness of the battered dough reminds him of Sarah’s sweet tooth. God, you’re cute – it makes him wish she was with you both tonight.

Well, that is until he notices it. It’s subtle, but it’s there – a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your cheek and exposed chest.

He knows this is a family event, but he wants to do anything but PG-rated things with you right now.

He stares at the white dust on your skin until your voice catches his attention again.

“Maybe I want to be sticky,” you reply, “gives you more to lick off of me later.”

And fuck, if that doesn’t turn him on.

The thought of his tongue on you sends a flood of impure thoughts to his brain; much like the ones he had when you first showed up at his door, covered in remnants of flour, all sugar and sweetness.

He knows now.

You may be sugar, but fuck, if you haven’t got some spice in you, too.

+++

As you stroll, your eyes grow wide when you see it; a yellow wooden sign with the words “bobbing for apples” in Comic Sans engraved into it.

“Ah! Joel! Bobbing for apples! I haven’t done that since I was a kid – we have to do it!” you say, your voice is a little too eager and a little too high-pitched, but the childlike wonder on your face is all the convincing that Joel needs. He might not admit it, but he’d give you anything you want. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, letting you lead the way.

You and Joel make your way up to the station, and a fair worker in an apron and a straw hat shouts to the crowd, “Come one, come all! Test your skills at an apple grab; the winner gets a prize,” his voice is low in octave but loud enough like he’s speaking through a megaphone.

A line of fair-goers of all ages quickly forms around the barrels filled with water and apples, and you look at Joel with eager eyes as you step up to yours.

The rules of the game were explained by the worker with a chuckle, “Alright, folks, no hands, just your teeth. Lean in, and bob for an apple, and what you catch is yours to keep plus a prize from the booth to the right.”

“You sure about this, sweetheart? You’re gonna get all wet,” Joel asks, probably just a smidge too concerned about your well-being considering it’s just bobbing for apples.

“You gonna act like you don’t know that I’ve been wet this entire night?” you say, not waiting to hear his response as the worker calls out a loud “GO!”

Giggles and cheers fill the air as you and your fellow participants lean over the barrel. Your face disappears into the water; your competitiveness in overdrive – edging yourself deeper and deeper into the water; so far that your shirt gets soaked. You don’t care, though, and you gleam from satisfaction as you resurface with a gleaming red apple held triumphantly between your teeth.

The crowd erupts in applause at your efforts, and Joel stands watching you with his hands on his hips, a smile plastered on his face. As his gaze drops from the apple in your mouth, he notices the wetness of your shirt and shit, you’re positively drenched.

It takes Joel all of .0002 seconds to notice the silhouette of your nipples peeking out from your shirt, the goosebumps littering your skin, and the tail ends of your hair wet and starting to curl under the weight of the water.

You drop the apple from your teeth and catch it in your palm. “Well, well…looks like you’re on a date with a prize-winnin’ apple picker. Feeling lucky yet?” you tort, attempting to flirt through the uncomfortable press of the damp fabric on your skin.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen that mouth in action, I already knew you were going to win,” he says, “but you know I’d never thought I’d see the day…” he trails off.

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly confused.

“Never thought I’d see the day that I was jealous of a fuckin’ Red Delicious apple,” he says, humor behind his voice, “s’ashame I wasn’t the one you were bobbin’ for in that barrel.”

“Listen, if you want to get wet and let me put you in my mouth, I am more than happy to accommodate,” you reply back, your voice flirty and suggestive.

Joel doesn’t respond, but you see him palm himself through the denim of his jeans at your suggestion, interjecting his thoughts.

You can’t hide the shivers that take over your body from the chill of the night air and the wetness of your clothing.

“C’mere, baby, you’re freezin’,” he says, brow furrowed, and arms wide open stretched out to you, beckoning you into his large arms. You take a step forward and step into his brace, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his arms and the aroma of his natural scent.

You stand there, wet in more ways than one, and let him hold you. Your arms wrap around his thick middle, and he rubs up and down your back with both palms in an attempt to warm you up. He releases you momentarily before saying, “Here, take this.”

You step away from him for a second, giving him space to slip off the flannel he’s wearing, revealing nothing but a white t-shirt underneath; the little tufts of hair peeking out through the collar of his shirt almost send you into a tailspin.

He holds the flannel open by the collar to face you, encouraging you to put it on. You turn your back to him, allowing him the privilege of holding it as you slip your arms into the sleeves. The fabric of the shirt is warm from his skin, and the moment you put it on you’re flooded with the smell embedded deep within the fibers; all musk, whiskey, cinnamon, wood, and Joel.

“Come on, now, you little bobbin’ minx, let’s go get you your prize,” he says, tilting his head to the prize booth. You grab his hand and let him lead the way this time.

You and Joel make your way to the prize booth, the smell of kettle corn invades your senses; sure, you were already stuffed with funnel cake and your dinner, but the sweet aroma makes your mouth water. Or maybe it’s just Joel, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t really care.

In the small structure of the prize booth, the shelves were adorned with a colorful array of stuffed animals of all sizes, trinkets, and games. You carefully assess your prize options while the attendant tries to convince you that of all of the random assortment of prizes, you absolutely need the goldfish. Right.

You look over the options in front of you for what feels like a good ten minutes before the attendant not so subtly grows tired of your indecision. You sigh. You decide on a small puppy dog with beady plastic brown eyes, and you nod in thanks as he hands it to you, and you and Joel walk away from the booth.

“Had a tough time decidin’ there, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” Joel asks, not really questioning.

“Well, to be honest, none of the prizes were really appealing to me,” you respond, playing with the fluffy ears of the stuffed plush in your hands. “I only picked this one because I thought Sarah might like it,” you say. Your consideration for Sarah, and your accepting demeanor to her, warms Joel’s heart.

“But I can think of one I’d really like to claim,” you say, catching his gaze. You see his jaw clench at your words.

“Oh yeah? And that would be..?”

“You,” the word comes out breathy.

You both stop walking and the crunch of the dirt under his boots and the distant sounds of the fair in the background all but freeze as you stand there, seemingly paused in your own little private moment.

“Take me home, Joel,” you say, planting your palm on his broad chest and stepping closer to him, your chest nearly flush against his. His hands skate down to your waist, and he closes the gap between your bodies, holding you close enough that you feel the growing bulge between his thighs.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, leaning down, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

And it’s sweet.

Just like the funnel cake.

And just like he thinks you are.

But you have other plans for him tonight.

And he has the same for you.

+++

You and Joel make your way out of the fairgrounds and to the lot where Joel parked his truck.

Still wearing his flannel, the stuffed puppy dog intertwined between your crossed arms, you wait for him to open the passenger side door. You all but eye fuck him as he reaches into the depth of the front pocket of his jeans and grabs his keys. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you; offering you a hand to help guide you in.

“Always such a gentleman,” you say, placing your hand in his, accepting his offer, using the strength of his arm to help lift yourself into the bed of the truck.

Joel rounds around the front of the vehicle, unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides in. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life and the radio turns on, “Come a Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley plays over the speakers.

Deciding to take a note from the lyrics, you don’t bother to buckle yourself into the passenger seat, and instead slide over into the middle seat of the truck, positioning yourself tightly against Joel’s side. You lace your arm through the underside of his and interlock them, your hand curls around his firm bicep. You lean your head into his shoulder, and close your eyes, taking a moment to bask in the solitude of the strong man beneath you.

He looks down at you for a moment – god, he could get used to this. He dwells on the thought for a moment longer and then begins to drive away.

You’re clinging to him and you both ride like that in an easy silence, apart from the faint music and the hum of his truck. It has been so long since you felt so content, so at peace with the moment and yourself; not worried about work or life, or anything. It was just you and Joel, and you like it that way.

Nearly back to your house, and your shared neighborhood, you let your left hand wander on the expanse of his thigh. The time for sweetness is over. The events of the night, your combined obvious want, and the flirtatious taunts catch up with you.

Joel keeps his eyes on the road, but you don’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens as your hand makes its way closer to his belt buckle. You begin to toy with the cool metal there, and his large palm comes down to cup yours.

“We’re almost home,” he says, holding your hand tight against his stiffening cock, not letting you move. “But I want to feel you now,” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know you wanna get your hands on this cock, and I would like nothing more,” he says, “but you’re gonna have to be patient, we only have a few more minutes until we’re there.”

“And why do I have to be patient, neighbor?” you ask, pulling your hand away, slightly keyed up. Greedy. Horny.

“Because I wanna give that needy little pussy the attention she deserves,” he says, “and because once I get started, I know ‘m not gonna be able to stop.”

“And neighbor ain’t gonna be what you’ll be calling me,” he says roughly, “I’ll fuckin’ make sure of that, sweetheart.”

He takes a turn and pulls into your neighborhood. You catch a glimpse of Mrs. Morrison taking out her trash. She glares at you in disapproval as you drive past in Joel’s truck.

You sometimes wonder what your neighbors might think; a pretty little young thing like you, the youngest daughter of their good friends, a.k.a your parents, hanging out with the older, single-father neighbor across the way.

But truthfully, you don’t really give a fuck.

+++

Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent. You both pause in silence.

Joel turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of invite me in behind his voice.

You glance out the window, your house bathed in the soft glow of your porch light. You turn back to Joel and say “Thank you for tonight, I really had a fun time. But to be honest, I just realized I never got to thank you properly…”

Joel looks at you and something dark flickers in his gaze. “And what would you need to be thankin’ me for, sweetheart?” As if he didn’t know.

“For the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Come in and I’ll return the favor,” you say, conjuring your sultriest voice, knowing he doesn’t need an invitation.

You step out of the truck, and the night air is cool, a gentle breeze whispers through your hair; your features are illuminated by the street lights in your neighborhood, and the warm glow casts an inviting aura around you. Joel appears at your side of the truck and helps you exit.

The gravel under your feet crunches as you walk toward the front porch; the air is charged with electricity, a livewire, a magnetic pull drawing your bodies together.

The porch light by your door casts a warm yellow glow on your faces. You pause at the front of the step and reach for your house keys in your purse. Your porch swing sways gently in the breeze, its rhythmic creaking adding to the undertone of the moment.

You insert the key into the lock, but before you can fully turn the doorknob to open the door, Joel already has his large palm on yours, opening the door, pushing you through the door frame and into your house, his hands cradling your face before he crashes his plush lips into yours.

The second you’re both fully in your house, Joel's hands are on the hem of your shirt, silently begging for you to take it off. You let him work on getting you topless, meanwhile, your hands are hastily working to undo his belt buckle, the excitement of finally being able to touch him and him not being able to stop touching you has you worked up. Joel presses his thighs together against yours, drawing little moans from you while he nips at your neck.

As much as he is trying to distract you, he’s no match for your determination. In record-breaking time you have his buckle undone and the zipper of his jeans is down; you gracefully fall to your knees before him, tugging his pants and his boxers down with you to the floor. Joel’s cock releases from the confines of his clothing and slaps against his tummy, leaving a little trail of pre-cum in its wake. You already knew he was big, but having him in full view makes you realize just how big he really is.

You lick your lips and reach out to grab his thick cock, affectionately kissing the tip of it; you run your tongue through the slit, lapping up the salty pre-cum that drips out before you circle your tongue along the underside of his head. You let your jaw go slack, and you begin to dip down on his length; a gurgling sound escapes your lips as you pull back up again. You do this a few times before letting his hard cock fall from your lips, now puffy and coated in saliva, some of it dribbling past your chin.

You pull off momentarily and smile up at Joel. He thinks you look far too sweet and innocent for someone who is absolutely taking his cock deep in your throat like a champ. He intertwines his fingers through your hair and groans, before gently urging you back down onto his length.

“Fuck, sweetheart – can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about having that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he says slightly breathless.

The thought of him thinking about you goes straight to your core and makes you want to mouth fuck him harder.

You wrap your lips around him again, and he thrusts his hips to glide himself inside of your mouth to the back of your throat.

He begins to pick up his pace, holding your head steady by your hair as he fucks into your throat, pressing deeper and deeper until spit pools at the corners of your mouth and slight tears form in the creases of your eyes. He presses you down onto him until your lips are wrapped around the base of him and the course hairs that reside there. You’re drowning in the taste of him, hardly able to breathe, but you don’t care; you want him to chase his high, to use your mouth for his own pleasure. He made you come harder than anyone ever has before; this was the least you could do for him.

“Jesus – look at you, pretty girl, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grits out, “takin’ it so well, baby.”

His words go straight to your cunt, the ache now insufferable.

You begin to work him harder with your tongue, struggling for air, and he inches closer to the back of your throat and you begin to gag. Joel pulls out, not wanting to hurt you, and a strand of saliva trails between your lips and his cock. You blink back tears and look up at him, your mascara now a mess on your face, and your eyes glossy.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

You swallow, and reach up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You are okay. More than okay. “Peachy. I'm relieved I finally got to return the favor,” you hum, standing to rise to meet his face.

He wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you tight against the front of his body; you feel the warmth of his tummy, the hardness of his cock, and the strength of his back behind your grip and it makes your legs turn to Jell-O. Fuck, you need him.

Joel kisses you for a moment, before pulling away and bringing his lips to your ear “Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl.”

You feel your stomach swoop and your folds tingle; you have thought about this moment for so long and you yearn for the stretch of him; to know what it’s like to be filled to the brim with Joel fucking Miller.

He kicks off his boots, steps out of the clothing bunched around his ankles, and takes your hand to follow you down the hallway into your bedroom.

Part of him wants to take his time; to make you feel good, to taste you again, and feel you come and come on his fingers. Part of him wants to shuck down your jeans and put your pretty pussy in his face.

Joel doesn’t particularly think of himself as a selfish man, but he has waited patiently, and he needs you. Now.

As much as he wants the taste of you on his lips, the part of him that wants to shove himself into your addictive cunt until you forget your name until you forget every other name except for his is the dominant one right now.

Once in the bedroom, he crowds you back until the back of your calves meet the edge of your mattress. He grabs both of your hips in a bruising grip and pulls you tight against his chest, his hips grinding into yours, and you lean your face up to kiss him. You think he might kiss you, but instead, he ghosts your lips and leans forward until your back meets the soft fabric of the mattress with an oof, and he’s on top of you.

He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. His grip on you is firm, yet gentle. You’ve seen his brute strength in action and the fact that he could overpower you sends a shiver to your clit.

“So beautiful, darlin’ – you know that?” he kisses your nose and trails a slew of them down your cheek, jaw, chin, and neck. Once at the nape of your neck, he nibbles on your earlobe and whispers “You ready for me, sweetheart?” his breath is heavy in your ear.

You can’t nod fast enough in agreement.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he practically purrs the question.

You want nothing more than to be a good girl for Joel. You nod almost aggressively to make up for the fact that you’re unable to construct a single sentence right now.

He lets out a satisfied moan and drops his grip on your wrists, and drags his heavy hands down your body to the center of your jeans and undoes the button of your pants, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of both your jeans and your panties and pulls them down in one fell swoop.

He dips down to place a delicate kiss to your tummy and lets the weight of his head rest on the softness of you. He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume comforts him, and he fights the urge to dip his face lower and bury himself in your pussy.

You drop both of your hands and grab his head, your fingers carding through his hair, and he groans.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” he says, not really questioning.

“I am being a good girl,” you respond back, not really sure what prompted his statement.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. When I put you in a position, I want you to stay there, until I say you can move. Got it?”

And holy fuck, bossy Joel turns you on.

You only hum in response.

“Need you to use your words, sweet girl. Answer me, or I’ll make you,” he says, voice low, his head closer to your center now, almost to exactly where you need him but not quite.

“Ye - ah, yes, fuck I understand,” sending all of your energy to string the words together.

He hums in acknowledgment and pushes your hands back up overhead, telling you to keep them there, and only to touch him when he says you can. When he releases your hands and sees that your arms stay put, he rasps out a “good girl.”

He then reaches down and notches his tip at your entrance, and drags the weight of his thick cock through your glistening folds.

“Mmmm so fuckin’ wet, this all for me?”

“All for you, J-oel,” you’re trembling, desperate to feel him deep inside you.

He pauses momentarily, only the tip of him inside you, and god, it’s such a tease.

You know it’ll sting, but you want him to just fucking bury every inch of himself inside of you. You don’t care about the pain; you crave the stretch of him.

“Joel – ah, need more,” you moan, “need all of you.”

“You sure, sweetheart? I ‘don wanna hurt you,” he says, once again concerned about you.

“Joel, I want you to fucking wreck me. Need you to move, please.”

After your plea, he obliges. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you, and the tip of his head drags against the spongey spot inside of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to move in and out of you, he feels so fucking good, and you’re so perfectly full.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and gruff, still continuing to saw in and out of you. ‘’Want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

And his words are like music to your fucking ears. He’s the perfect balance of gentleman and fucking filth.

He brings a hand down to circle your clit, and with the added sensation you’re not far off from your orgasm. You can feel it growing in your stomach with every circle of his thumb and every thrust of his cock. You open your mouth, your jaw slack, and you begin to moan.

“Fuck, baby – you shouldn’t open your mouth like that,” he moans.

“And – fuckkkk, why not?” You respond back, breathless from each of his thrusts.

“Just a reminder of another hole I need to use,” he responds, and then gruffly says “Open,” while pressing his thumb and index finger into your jaw, holding you in place.

You do as he says, and he spits into your mouth. Your eyes wide as saucers. It’s hot, dirty, filthy.

“Taste how perfect we are together, baby” he says, still pounding into you and circling your clit.

His words send you into fucking oblivion, and you’re gone. Your vision goes white, and despite his order to keep your eyes open, your eyes fall closed and he fucks you through your orgasm.

Your tight, slick walls pulse and squeeze around him. His hands squeeze your hips, his fingertips bruising your skin as he rocks your limp and shaky body against his cock, chasing his own orgasm.

Not long after you’ve come, he’s finishing too. He fucks into you at an erratic pace and then shoots his seed deep into your cunt.

“Fuckkk, baby” – he trails off, letting the final spurts of his cum paint your walls.

You let out a sigh, and once again drop your hands to his head, intertwining your hands with the hair behind his head.

You both lay there in your fucked out bliss and then he pulls out of you, taking a dribble of his cum with him, a glob of it landing on your thigh.

You’ve never felt so satisfied, to be laying there, content and full of Joel Miller.

He rolls over onto his side and puts his hand on his chest.

“Shit, baby. You’re perfect,” he says. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.”

You hum in delight and roll over onto his chest, melting into him.

“You in the mood for some cookies?” you ask, and he grins in response.

He hit the fucking lottery with you.

END

Tagging some Joel-lovers: @endlessthxxghts @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @joelmillersblog @joelsgreys @dins-riduur-anthe @joelmillers-whore @pedroswife69 @hearteyesforjoel

As always, feel free to let me know if do or don’t want to be tagged!xx

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedrohub #pedro pascal character #collaboration fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller series

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punkshort · 7 months

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Moving Day

Summary: You help Maria pack and move into Tommy's house. You spend the time discussing the Miller brothers, and Joel grows curious about what was said.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader, established relationship, set in the TWWW universe, no use of Y/N.

Warnings: language, sexual references, fluff, alcohol

Word Count: 2.8K

November 2005

"You've got a lot more stuff than I expected, considering the world ended," you teased Maria as you pushed a box full of clothes across her living room floor and into the entryway.

"Excuse me, but I seem to remember moving your shit twice in the past year, I think you owe me one," she said, giving it right back to you as she came around the corner to place another box on top of the one you just moved.

You held up your hands in surrender before wiping the sweat from your forehead and turning back towards the living room. Even though it was November, it was an unseasonably warm day, which was perfect weather for moving, but not nearly as enjoyable for packing.

You plopped back down in front of a bookshelf and began picking up books and knick knacks from the shelves, wrapping anything that looked fragile as you went.

"So, big step, huh?" you prompted, glancing over at Maria from across the room, who was busy wrapping up dishware. She looked up at you and grinned.

"Yeah, I guess so. It's been almost a year, and I spend most of my time at his house, anyway," she shrugged, trying to downplay it, but you could tell she was excited.

"So, how did it come up?" you asked as you leaned back on your palms, looking for an excuse to take a break.

"He asked me one morning," Maria said with a shy smile. "He tried to make it come off like it would just be easier for me if I kept some stuff over at his place." She came over to your side of the room and sat down on the floor against the couch, eager to tell you the story.

"So then I said, 'Well, maybe it'll just be easier for me if you came here,' you know? I wasn't going to let him off that easy," she laughed.

"Oh yeah, you gotta make him ask you, make him sweat a little bit," you replied, and you both giggled before she continued.

"I eventually dragged it out of him, and he was so nervous, it was kind of sweet. He immediately went around town rounding up any boxes or totes that weren't in use, like I was gonna change my mind," she told you as she smiled and shook her head at the memory.

"That's cute. I can't picture him nervous," you said, "he always seemed so steady."

"You know, you never told me what it was like knowing them before all this," she said, leaning forward. "I've heard little bits and pieces from you and Tommy, but there's gotta be some funny stories you can tell me."

"I had only worked for them for a few months before the outbreak. I really didn't know them too well," you admitted, then added, "well, I obviously talked to Joel more than Tommy."

"Well, what was Tommy like?" Maria asked. You hesitated, remembering Tommy's reputation at work.

"Uhh..." you started, struggling with what you should tell her. She laughed at your obvious discomfort.

"It's alright, you can tell me. I know he used to get around," she assured you, and you flashed her a smile of relief before continuing.

"Yeah, he was a bit of a flirt," you told her with a shrug. "But he was always super nice. Harmless. My friend had the biggest crush on him. Most people saw Tommy as the nice one and Joel as the scary one. They always went to Tommy for a signature or approval before Joel, that's for sure."

"Did he ever... flirt with you?" she asked hesitantly, and you shook your head violently.

"No! Oh god, no. Nothing like that. He preferred to torture Joel about me, instead," you laughed, remembering the night he walked in on you and Joel alone in the conference room.

"I didn't think you and Joel got together until much later?" she asked, confused.

"We didn't. But we had feelings for each other. And we might have kissed once when we were drunk," you quickly admitted, scrunching your face in mock disgust.

"Of course you did," she laughed. You sat together in comfortable silence for a moment before something occurred to Maria.

"I guess you guys never got to have a traditional relationship," she stated, thinking over the timeline. "I mean, you never saw a movie or went dancing. It was just - boom - apocalypse."

"Yeah, I guess so. We even slept in the same bed before we were 'together'," you shrugged, sitting back up so you could continue to pack some books.

"Did you ask him to move into the house with you?" she asked, referring to the house Joel had updated just for you after you moved to Jackson. You thought for a moment, and smirked.

"I kind of just told him," and Maria laughed. "I'm serious! I don't think I even gave him a choice now that I think about it."

"Well, I don't think he's complaining," she teased, and you grinned.

"No, definitely not," you agreed, quirking an eyebrow. Maria watched you for a minute as you finished filling the box in front of you, folding the flaps in so the contents wouldn't spill out.

"Tommy tells me all the time how different Joel is since he's met you," she began, and you looked up at her, curious.

"He just says Joel used to be kind of an asshole. Says you softened him up," she said, poking you in the shoulder, making you smile.

"He was kind of an asshole," you agreed, pushing the box across the floor to join the others in the entryway. "I didn't care though," you said, dusting your hands on the sides of your jeans as you walked back into the room. "I was just drawn to him, you know?"

"Must be something in their genes," she said, nodding. Then her eyes widened, realizing the double meaning to her words. "I mean genes with a G!"

You both burst out laughing, clutching your stomachs while tears streamed down your faces until you could hardly breathe.

"Either one probably works," you said with a grin once you finally calmed down, starting the waves of laughter all over again.

"What're you ladies laughin' about?" Tommy's voice broke through all the noise, making you and Maria jump. You turned around to find both brothers standing in the entryway, watching you with identical smirks.

"Nothing," Maria told him, wiping a tear from her eye before giving him a kiss.

"Didn't sound like nothin'," Joel said as he passed by Maria on his way to your side, wrapping one arm around your shoulders for a half hug and a kiss on the top of your head.

"How was patrol?" you asked, looking up at Joel standing next to you, who had been watching Tommy size up Maria's boxes by the door.

"Uneventful," he said, turning his attention back towards you. Even after all this time, he still managed to take your breath away when he looked at you. His eyes were always filled with so much warmth as he gave you an adoring smile. It made you think about what Maria just told you - that you "softened" Joel up - and you were inclined to agree. You hadn't known Joel very long before the outbreak, but you knew him well enough to be able to tell that he always treated you very differently than others.

"What're you lookin' at me like that for?" he asked you with a glint in his eye.

"Can't I just look at you?" you teased.

"You're givin' me the look. What the hell were you two talkin' about today?" he said quietly, his eyes flitting over to Tommy quickly before landing back on you.

"I'll tell you later," you promised him. You took a step forward towards the boxes by the door but Joel's grip on your hand stopped you. His feet planted firmly on the ground caused you to swivel back to face him.

"I won't forget," he warned you before loosening his grip on your hand and letting you walk over to help Maria lift a box.

Joel picked up the last one with a grunt and followed you out the door.

"Those two seem to have hit it off real well," Tommy said to Joel. He was pouring drinks for everybody in the kitchen, while you and Maria talked animatedly over a board game that was being set up in the living room.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Joel replied, his gaze still glued to you, watching as your face lit up and your head tipped back in laughter.

"She seems a lot more like herself," Tommy said, his eyes following Joel's gaze. "She still doin' alright?"

Joel nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look at his brother.

"Yeah, she's doin' great. I think bein' here in Jackson helped. Bein' safe. Knowin' you. Havin' Maria to talk to," Joel said as he reached for his glass of whiskey.

"And how 'bout you? How're you doin'?" Tommy asked quietly, not wanting you or Maria to overhear. Joel shrugged.

"Better. Panic attacks are rare. I don't tell her, but I still struggle with men lookin' at her like that. Caught a couple of newer guys checkin' her out the other night at the bar. Had to pretend I didn't feel good so we could leave," Joel admitted, taking a swig of his drink.

"Well, some of that's normal. Makes my hairs stand up, too, if I see someone starin' a little too long at Maria. Just can't beat the shit outta 'em, Joel," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, well. I'm still workin' on it," Joel replied, his eyes traveling back to you.

"It's good the panic attacks are goin' away," Tommy said, and Joel nodded.

"I think it's all her," he told Tommy, still looking at you. "Whenever she's around I'm just... at peace, I guess."

Tommy stared at his brother for a moment, watching the way Joel looked at you in the other room. His eyes wide and soft, and a smile turning up the corners of his mouth as you laughed at something Maria said.

"I'm happy for you, Joel," Tommy said, his voice so full of sincerity, it made Joel's head turn back in his direction. "You look the happiest I've ever seen you. You deserve it."

Embarrassed, Joel waved him off and took another drink from his glass, motioning for Tommy to top off their drinks before joining you back in the living room.

"And I'm happy for you, little brother," Joel said, clapping his shoulder and reaching his glass out to clink against the one in Tommy's hand. "Finally growin' up and settlin' down. Never thought I'd see the day."

Tommy laughed and shook his head.

"Well, when you know, you know," Tommy said, grabbing Maria's glass and nodding towards the living room.

Joel considered Tommy's words for a moment before picking up your glass and following him.

"Can I get you another one?" Maria asked you as she got up from the couch with her empty wine glass. You shook your head with a yawn.

"I don't think so, but thanks. I'm beat," you told her as she grabbed your glass on her way to the kitchen, putting both in the sink before returning to her spot curled up next to Tommy.

After moving all of Maria's boxes into Tommy's house, the four of you sat around in the living room listening to music, playing games and having a few drinks. Most of the last hour was spent talking shop about patrol while you and Maria half-listened and quietly discussed redecorating ideas for the house.

You yawned again, and this time, Joel noticed.

"Well, we should be headin' out. I think we all had a long day. And this one's got work in the mornin'," he announced, hitching a thumb in your direction. You groaned when you remembered you had to work at 9am tomorrow and stood from the armchair.

"Thank you so much for spending your day off helping me," Maria said, giving you a quick hug.

"It was no problem. I would have been bored anyway," you assured her with a smile. You turned to see Joel clap Tommy on the back in farewell as he headed to the door to pull his boots on.

"Alright then, you two. Thanks again," Tommy said to you both as you walked through the front door. You gave them a quick wave over your shoulder as you made your way down their steps and out onto the street to head home.

It wasn't too late, probably around 9 o'clock, but given the time of year, the sun set so early that it looked like it was the middle of the night.

"Didn't bring a coat?" Joel asked, shrugging his off to drape over your shoulders. You shook your head.

"It was so warm all day, I didn't think of it," you told him as you dipped your nose into the collar of his coat, inhaling his scent as you made your way home to the new neighborhood in Jackson.

His hand sought yours out at your side and he laced your fingers together, pulling a small smile across your face while you admired the small string lights draped overhead.

"So things must be getting serious with them, movin' in together and all that," Joel said, and you nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so. Did you know it's been almost a year since they started dating?"

Joel shook his head as you rounded the corner into the new neighborhood.

"Time flies," he said, and you nodded. "It was nice of you to help her out today."

"Well, she's my friend. Of course I would help her. Besides, she pointed out she's already helped move my stuff twice, so I kind of owed her," you told him with a smirk as you walked up your porch steps.

You pushed the front door open and flicked the light on, then turned to Joel to hand his coat back to him. He shut the door and took the coat from your hand.

"What were you laughin' about?" he immediately asked once the door shut, taking you by surprise. He grinned at your expression. "Told you I wouldn't forget."

You rolled your eyes and walked to the kitchen to get some water.

"It wasn't anything interesting, it was just girl stuff," you tried, but he tsk'd at your answer.

You were filling up your glass at the sink when you felt his hands wrap around your waist. Distracted, you noticed at the last second that your water was about to overflow and cursed as you quickly turned the faucet off.

With two fingers, Joel gingerly lifted the glass from your grip and placed it off to the side on the counter. You turned around to face him, his hands coming to rest on the edge of the sink behind you, effectively caging you in.

"That mean you were talkin' about me?" he asked lowly.

"Ok, yes, but not in a bad way," you finally caved, running your hands up his chest. "We were talking about the both of you, and how charming you are," you explained, leaning up to plant a small kiss on his jaw. You felt his muscles relax under your lips as you made your way slowly down to his throat.

"Then why were you laughin'?" he asked again, and you sighed before pulling back.

"Alright. Maria made a joke about you and Tommy. She basically said you're both so charming that it must be something in your genes." You looked at him, waiting for him to get the joke, but he just continued to give you a confused look.

"Genes? Jeans?" you tried again, tugging on his belt loop with the last word.

A slow smile spread across his face.

"Yeah, okay, that's pretty funny," he admitted. He leaned down and slotted his lips against yours, and you could taste the whiskey on him when he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as his hands found their way back to your hips.

You squealed when he suddenly stooped down to lift up your legs, wrapping them around his waist before flattening his hands against your back, pinning you to his chest as his tongue swirled around yours. One hand traveled up to the back of your neck as he turned, walking the two of you towards the living room.

"What are you doing?" you giggled, your hands digging into his shoulders.

"Takin' you to the couch so we can put that 'jeans theory' to the test."

A/N: This was just a cute little idea I came up with one night, I hope you guys enjoy :)

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina

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pers-books · 5 months

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INTERVIEW

Jemma Redgrave: ‘Doctor Who will keep me young’

The actress would be happy to be remembered for the sci-fi series, she tells Dominic Maxwell

Jemma Redgrave: “My character wanted to make her way on merit. That wasn’t difficult to play”

Dominic Maxwell

Saturday November 25 2023, 12.01am, The Times

Jemma Redgrave has a problem. “Every time I get a new office,” she says, “it blows up.” Granted, she admits, the first time we saw her office — in the 50th anniversary Doctor Who special of 2013 that featured Matt Smith and David Tennant — it was in the Tower of London, and that one has stayed standing. Otherwise, though, in her role as Kate Stewart, the head of the Doctor’s paramilitary allies UNIT, her workplaces seem to routinely explode. That they seem to get swankier and swankier each time only seems to make them more vulnerable to the zap gun.

She won’t give anything away, and the BBC is keeping under wraps each of the three 60th anniversary specials, which start tonight. Yet you have to fear for the giant floating Marvel-style Unit HQ that features in the trailer. Redgrave doesn’t appear until the final part, which pits David Tennant’s returning Doctor against Neil Patrick Harris’s Toymaker, a villain not seen since 1966. She will, however, be the one other holdover from the 50th anniversary specials. “Yes,” she says with a disbelieving smile over morning coffee in a north London café, “I think it’s just me and David.”

She and her sons, now aged 29 and 23, had watched the series ever since it returned, after 16 years off our screens (a one-off comeback starring Paul McGann aside), in 2005. She wondered for a while why seemingly every other actor she knew got a role in it. Hers, though, has proved to be the longest-running.

She first played Kate Stewart opposite Smith in an episode in 2012. She didn’t realise the significance of the surname at the time: Stewart is the daughter of Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, the head of Unit from 1968 to 1975, during the eras of Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker. All of which is catnip to the fans, some of whom, as emissaries from Doctor Who magazine, were on set doing a story on her first day. They helped her to join the dots.

As Kate Stewart in the Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Specials (BBC)

Stewart, after all, didn’t use her full name. “She didn’t want to take advantage of her connections and wanted to make her way on merit,” Redgrave says. As the daughter of an actor (Corin Redgrave), the niece of two actresses (Vanessa Redgrave and Lynn Redgrave), the granddaughter of actors (Michael Redgrave, Rachel Kempson) and the cousin of actresses (Joely Richardson and Natasha Richardson), she knew where Stewart was coming from. It can be tedious spending your time fending questions about how you’ve got where you are today, after all.

“That you’re some sort of nepo baby? It can be, can’t it? Sometimes those questions go on and on and on, many, many, many, many years down the line.” Redgrave, a gifted under-player of a scene, gives a surprisingly full-hearted chuckle. “So that wasn’t a difficult scene to play.”

Redgrave appears only sporadically, but has rubbed shoulders with six doctors: Smith, Tennant, Peter Capaldi, John Hurt (in the 50th special), Jodie Whittaker and, coming soon, Ncuti Gatwa, who will take the lead once Tennant’s celebratory trilogy is done.

There have been rumours that Stewart and UNIT are getting their own show, but Redgrave insists that this is news to her. Then again, it’s rare for her to be permitted to admit even that she is in the first Gatwa series. She has to sign an NDA each time she shoots the show so that nobody, with the exception of her partner, who may be staying with her in Wales during shooting anyway, knows what she is working on.

She understands the rationale for this, although it can become absurd. During lockdown, because travel was restricted, the BBC sent a car to her north London home to pick her up for filming. On the way to the car she bumped into Smith, who lives in the area, walking his dog. He asked where she was heading. Cardiff, she told him. He asked what she was working on. “I said, ‘I can’t possibly tell you. I’ve signed an NDA.’ And he said, ‘Oh well, send them all my love.’”

Redgrave is a young-looking 58. Her extensive stage work includes appearing in a London production of Chekhov’s The Three Sisters with her aunts. Her TV work includes starring in the series Bramwell as well as recurring roles in Holby City, Grantchester, Silent Witness and Cold Blood. How would she feel if the world remembered her most for her sporadic role as the head of UNIT?

“I think that’s OK,” she says. “I grew up watching Jon Pertwee. And Jon Pertwee doesn’t change in my imagination. The people I grew up watching don’t get older in my imagination and I will remain in the imagination of the children who watch this 60th-year episode. And that is a kind of lovely thing. So I’m very happy to be remembered as Kate Stewart. Also, she’s a formidable woman. She has humour and heart and courage. And she’s vulnerable and aware of her limitations. So she’s kind of human in every possible way, even though she exists in a world of aliens and tech.”

On the subject of “the sci-fi stuff”, she admits that jargon and technobabble can be hard to play: the plot may need it, but it’s hard to bring much of yourself to. So she tries to find some emotional resonance of her own. “Either that or you just play it fast. It’s one or the other.”

youtube

She has found, too, that the fans will support her in other roles. Recently she appeared in a play, Octopolis, at the Hampstead Theatre in London. “And a lot of Who fans came to see that, which is a lovely thing. She’s a great character, but partly the reason that UNIT has continued through this series is because fans have been very vocal in their love of those storylines.”

When she was growing up, it took her a while to admit that she wanted to be an actress. “My parents split when I was young. My mum [Deirdre Hamilton-Hill] supported me and my brother. There wasn’t a lot of money around, but we did get taken to the theatre. And I think growing up in the theatre, and particularly not having a fear of Shakespeare because I encountered him on the stage and not in the classroom for the first time, was a great privilege.”

It was a trip to see the Wars of the Roses Shakespeare history plays at the RSC in Stratford when she was 13 that convinced her she wanted to act. “Before that I’d played my cards close to my chest. I didn’t have much confidence. I was quiet about it because there were a lot of people in my family who acted.” When she told her father, he gave her a complete Arden set of Shakespeare plays, and wrote “to commemorate your decision to become an actress” on the front page.

She went to the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts, after which she began to work regularly. She appeared in a TV film, The Relief of Belsen, with her father, and in Howards End with Vanessa, but beyond that has ploughed her own furrow. So is the family connection one she can celebrate at this point?

What’s lovely, she says, is going to a set and having crew members come up to her and tell her they worked with her father, or her aunt, or her cousin or her brother Luke, a successful cameraman. “And usually anybody who says ‘I’ve worked with somebody in your family’ says it because they loved working with them. So it’s suddenly not quite such an intimidating environment.”

Family fame is dwarfed by sci-fi fame anyway. “I’m ‘her from Doctor Who’. And if you’ve got a body of work behind you, people don’t talk about the name. I just feel lucky that I come from the family that I come from because I grew up with books and theatre, which is a proper privilege. There wasn’t a lot of money, but there was that, and that’s worth everything.”

Doctor Who is on BBC1 and iPlayer from November 25. Jemma Redgrave’s episode is on December 9

(Source)

#Jemma Redgrave #Kate Stewart #Doctor Who #60th Anniversary Specials #Interview

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hangmansgbaby · 1 year

Text

Always Darling | 0.5 | J.Seresin

T H E E A R L Y Y E A R S

Summary: The prequel to “Always Darling” and the events leading up to the Uranium Mission

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC!Willow "Vixen" Seresin, brief mentions of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x OC Daughter!Willow "Vixen" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC God Sister!Willow "Vixen" Seresin

Warnings: fluff, its fucking cute in here

Note: the overwhelming love for this series 😍😍 I love you all! THERE WILL BE A PART 3!

Apr 2024 note: I did end up updating this into an OC as I dont write my series as a reader insert anymore.

Word count: 6.1k words (my brain couldn’t stop! I’m sorry for the length!”

Masterlist | Always Darling Masterlist

2001, Boarding School, Connecticut

“Miss Mitchell?”

“Yes, headmistress?”

“My office, please.”

18 year old Willow Mitchell was a staple in the Headmistress’s office since her first day at the all girls boarding school her father had dropped her off at freshman year. The headmistress had taken the 14 year old “troubled student” under her wing the minute the young girl entered campus, even bringing the young girl home for the holidays.

“Miss Mitchell-“

“Please, just Willow. We aren’t strangers.” She laughs.

“Willow, how’s the college search going?” Headmistress Stacy Sutherland questions.

“Fantastic. I got an acceptance to UT Austin, Oklahoma, Oklahoma State, UCLA, USC, and NYU but I’m not going to any of them.” Willow answers.

“Oh? Not going to college?”

“Actually,”Willow pulls a folder out of her backpack and sets it on the desk.

“You’re interested in the Naval Academy?”

“Accepted. Stacy, I got into the Naval Academy!” She smiles brightly.

“That’s amazing! I bet your father is so proud!”

Willow sighs. She hadn’t told her dad, not like he’d pick up the phone anyways. “Yea. I bet.”

“Will he be here for graduation?”

“I don’t know, I sent the invite but-“ she shrugs.

He didn’t show. Willow expected nothing less from the man who up and dropped her off 4 years ago, never coming back. It really surprised her though to see all of her dad’s Top Gun buddies present. Ice, Slider, Wolfman, and Hollywood. She hadn’t noticed their presence until the middle of the Ceremony. With only 40 graduates in her class, it wasn’t long until her name was called

“Miss Willow Mitchell. Valedictorian. United States Naval Academy.” If the sheer magnitude of cheers just for her wasn’t clear enough, the four grown men who jumped from their seats definitely showed Willow that someone out there still cared besides the headmistress.

“Hi!” Willow smiles as Slider runs up to her. He wraps his arms around her, lifting her into a bear hug.

“Hey Uncle Slider.” She laughs as he sets her down.

“Hey little bird.” Only Iceman called her that, claiming she was Maverick’s mini me as a child.

“Hey Uncle Ice.” She gives him a side hug before acknowledging the other two aviators present.

“Where’s your dad?”

“Not here. As per usual.” She sighs. “Can we not talk about how shitty my dad is? I’m thinking lunch and then you guys can take me wherever and then do drop off day at the academy?”

“You don’t wanna see him?”

Willow shakes her head, leading the aviators towards the parking lot. “Y’all coming or what?”

2005, Naval Academy, Maryland

Willow was speed walking through campus, her last class was late releasing so she was already late for her next class. And as if her day couldn’t get any worse she had to literally run into someone, knocking both too the ground and the other person’s coffee all down the front of her.

“Dammit.” Willow mutters, assessing the damage done to her outfit.

“I’m so sorry darlin. You alright?” Willow looks up to the guy she collided with, the voice certainly matching the face and those strikingly green eye- “Darlin?”

“What?” She snaps out of her gaze, looking around to recollect where she was. “Oh, yea. I’m fine. Can’t say the same for my hoodie.” She replies, looking down at the coffee stain.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been watching where I was going. I can get you a new one, or pay for dry cleaning or whatever you need.” He rambles, pulling her up from the ground.

“It’s all good, I’m just gonna head back to my room and change. Apparently I really wasn’t destined to make it to class today.” She chuckles. “Sorry about your coffee.”

“Make it up by going to lunch with me? I know this little place downtown that has really good sandwiches.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you out front of the school in say, 30 minutes?”

“Perfect. I’m Jake by the way.” He juts his hand out. It was only then that Willow truly realized she was making plans with a complete stranger.

“Willow.” She takes his hand, shaking it lightly. They stand there for another few seconds. Willow was completely lost in his eyes, the color so different from the green she grew up looking at. She liked them, definitely ones she could get lost in forever.

Jake cleared his throat, pulling his hand back. “I’ll see you in 30?”

“Y-yea.” She smiles before quickly running off back to her dorm.

“Hey, did class get canceled?” Her roommate, Natasha Trace, questions from her bed.

“Nope.” She answers, stripping her outfit and immediately pulling on another pair of jeans. “I have a date now.”

“Oh? Tell me everything!” Nat slides across her bed to sit on the edge, now interested in what her roommate and best friend had to say.

“When I get back. We’re going to lunch.” Willow walks over to the bathroom, pulling out her make up bag.

“At least tell me who it is!”

“His name is Jake.” Willow chuckles, applying light makeup.

“Blonde, green eyes?”

“Yea, how’d you know?”

“Willow! That’s Jake Seresin! He’s the school playboy!”

“He doesn't seem that bad.” Willow sighs.

“Do you want me to name all the girls he’s slept with? Cause it’s not a pretty number.”

“I’ll be fine Nat. I gotta go. Don’t wait up!” She calls, running out of the room.

“Hey there darlin. Ready to go?” Jake smiles as Willow jogs up to him.

“Yep.” She smiles. He holds his arm out and she loops hers into his. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He leads her towards a truck parked at the front of the parking lot, opening the passenger door for her.

Jake wasn’t kidding when he said they had the best sandwiches. They had to have spent at least 5 hours at that table, laughing, talking, and just enjoying each other’s company.

“So he just left you at a boarding school?” Jake questions.

“Yea. I haven’t seen him since then.” Willow answers, taking a sip of her coffee.

“You think he’s gonna show up to graduation next month?”

“Unless my uncle has said something, I doubt he knows I’m here. I bet he’ll find out when I’m a better aviator than him.” Willow chuckles.

“I think you’re gonna be a great pilot, but you're gonna have to fight me for top spot though.”

“You’re going for aviation too?” Willow questions. “It’s only ever been me and my roommate! That’s crazy!”

It was over from there. Jake and Willow spent every possible moment together over the next month. After 2 weeks of hanging out, Jake had officially asked Willow to be his girlfriend over dinner at a romantic waterfront restaurant. 2 weeks later graduation had officially arrived.

The ceremony was long and boring, Willow and Jake were eager to hit the road to his hometown where they would spend their month-long leave before they were to report to flight school.

“Ensign Mitchell!” Willow turns to spot Iceman and Slider walking towards her.

“Admiral Kazansky.” She salutes him.

“Congratulations little bird.” He smiles, pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you Uncle Ice.” She smiles into the hug.

“Alright let me in!” Slider pulls Willow away from Ice into his own hug.

“We are so proud of you, Willow!”

“Thank you, Slider.”

Jake clears his throat walking towards the group.

“Hey, Jake! This is Admiral Kazansky and Rear Admiral Kerner. Guys this is my boyfriend, Ensign Jake Seresin.” Willow smiles as Jake shakes hands with her uncles.

“It's a pleasure to meet you both. Willow talks highly of both of you.” Jake greets.

“So what are your plans now that you’re officially out of the Academy?” Ice questions.

“We have a month leave before we both report to flight school so we were planning to go to Texas where his family is.”

“You’re both going into aviation?”

“Yes sir.” Jake answers.

“I look forward to seeing both of you at Top Gun one day then.” Ice smiles, pride beaming in his eyes.

“As much as I love seeing you guys, we gotta get on the road soon. But I’ll see you soon okay?” Willow smiles, grabbing Jake’s hand.

“Of course. Good luck.” Ice nods as Willow and Jake start walking off but he quickly calls out to them. “Ensign Seresin!” Jake turns back to see Ice calling him over. Jake releases Willow’s hand, returning to stand before him. “Willow is like a daughter to me. You take good care of her.”

“Yes sir.” Jake nods before Ice dismisses him, running back over to Willow and leading her to his car.

2005, Seresin Ranch, Texas

“Uncle Jake!” Jake drops to his knee as 2 little twin girls come running towards him, throwing all of their weight into him.

“Hey! Theres my 2 favorite nieces!” He laughs picking both of them up. Willow laughs watching the interaction as she pulls their duffels from the back seat. “Darlin you put those bags down, I’ll come back and get them.” Jake turns to see her lifting both bags to her shoulders.

“I’m capable of carrying our bags, Jake. Besides, it looks like those 2 got your hands full.” Willow walks both of the bags towards the house right behind Jake.

“Maddelyn and Gracelyn! I told you two not to run outside!” An almost perfect copy of Jake runs up to the door, her long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail, bright green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses.

“I got them, Nanc. They’re just excited to see their favorite uncle.” Jake teases, walking past his sister.

“You’re their only uncle, smartass.” His sister turns around to see Willow still standing on the porch, laughing at their sibling banter. “Oh you must be Jake's girlfriend! I’m Nancy, Jake’s older sister. Mama and Daddy are in the kitchen if you wanna come in and say hi.”

Willow nods and follows Nancy through the living room. She drops the bags by the stairs as Nancy directs and follows her through the house.

“Oh Jakey look at you!”

“Jakey?” Willow giggles softly at the nickname.

“Hey only Mama calls me that.” Jake turns to Willow pointing at her as serious as can be..

“Oh you must be Willow! You’re even prettier than Jake described!”

“Hi. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Seresin.” Willow smiles, holding out her hand to shake his mothers.

“Oh please! You can call me Mama. Everyone does.” Mama pulls Willow into a hug instead of shaking her hand.

“Mama, we talked about this. Don’t smother the poor girl.” Jake chuckles at Willow’s face, laced with shock of how quickly she was welcomed.

“Oh of course. Why don’t you two head upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner? Maybe even take a nap. I’m sure that drive was horrible.”

“Thanks Mama.” Jake presses a kiss to his mom’s cheek before turning to Willow. “After you darlin.” Willow tried to pick up her duffel when Jake smacked her hand. “I’m carrying these. Upstairs, 3 doors on the left.”

Sighing, Willow walks up ahead of Jake, admiring the hundreds of photos of the Seresin family that line the walls. Opening the door, Willow stares in awe of Jake’s childhood bedroom.

“Welcome to my sanctuary.” Jake laughs, sliding past Willow.

“This is not what I imagined your bedroom would look like.” She walks over to the bookshelf in the far corner, gazing over the books, photographs and awards that littered the shelves.

“What? Expected it to look more like my dorm room?” Jake questions, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Something like that.” Willow moves to stand between his legs, arms wrapping around his neck while Jake’s wrap around her waist. “Your family seems nice.”

“You haven’t even met half of them. Amy and Megan are heading back from college right now and Jess will be here for dinner.”

“4 sisters? No wonder you completely understand all of the shit me and Nat say.” Willow laughs.

“Yea.” Jake smiles. “So… nap?”

“Or maybe, a little fun?” Willow flirts, leaning further into Jake.

“Oh really?” Jake smiles, pulling Willow in for a kiss. “And what kind of fun would you be interested in?”

“Oh you know exactly what I’m interested in.” Willow straddles his waist, pushing Jake backwards on the bed.

“Oh I have a few ideas.” His signature smirk plays on his lips as he pulls her onto the bed, flipping to pin her.

2007, NAS Pensacola, Florida

“Please be sure to let us know if there is any family attending Saturday’s Ceremony.”

Willow sighed, grabbing the paperwork from before her.

“Hey darlin. Ready to go?” Jake meets her outside at their car.

“Yea.” Willow sighs, walking past Jake and immediately climbing in.

“Are you okay?” Jake questions, starting up the car.

“Yea, long day.” Willow sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat.

The drive to their off base home was silent, Jake already knew what was up. The pinning ceremony is a big deal. After they receive their wings, they’ll choose their specialty aircrafts and before long, they’re in the running for a Top Gun session. Jake’s family was already packing to head down for his pinning ceremony and he knew Iceman and Slider weren't able to make it for Willow. So with her father not in her life anymore and her uncles unavailable. That left their Captain to pin her while everyone else had family to do it.

As soon as they pulled up, Willow immediately went inside and jumped in the shower. Jake sighed watching the retreating figure of his girlfriend. Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed Ice’s number hoping to get through to him.

“Kazansky residence.” The female voice rang through.

“Hey, it's Jake. Is Iceman around?”

“Mom! Willow’s boyfriend is calling for Dad!” Jake chuckles at Ice’s daughter’s unwillingness to talk on the phone.

“Give me that.” Sarah says, most likely pulling the phone from her daughter. “Hey Jake, sorry Tom is on a carrier, left yesterday. Something I can do for you?”

“It’s alright Mrs. Kazansky. Ice said he might be able to clear his schedule for this weekend. Just wanted to check in with him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You and Willow are getting your wings this weekend huh?”

“Yes ma’am. Willow’s feeling a little down cause my family will be there to pin me and she doesn’t have anyone. Was just hoping something would come through at the last minute.” Jake sighs.

“I’m sorry honey. You know I’d be there in a heartbeat if the kids didn't have school.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me know Mrs. Kazansky.”

“Of course dear. I’ll see you both at Thanksgiving alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” Jake ends the call as soon as he hears the shower shut off. He immediately runs to the room, stripping down to his boxers and jumping on the bed before Willow comes out in shorts and a t-shirt.”Well hello beautiful.” Jake’s signature smirk plays out on his face, eyes following Willow as she walks around to her side of the bed. “Darlin?” Willow doesn’t say a word, only laying down and turning off the lamp by her. “Willow, I know you’re upset over the pinning ceremony. If you want, I’m sure my mom will gladly pin you.”

“Just forget it Jake. I’m fine with the Captain pinning me.” Willow sighs, still facing away from Jake. “I’m going to bed.”

Jake sighs, facing the back of her head. “I’m sorry, Willow. I wish I could do something about this.” Willow sighed before rolling over.

“It’s not your fault my only family is an asshole. Or that my uncles have responsibilities to the Navy.” She places a hand on his cheek. “It’s always going to suck and there’s nothing we can do. No matter who pins me, so long as I get pinned I could care less.” Willow smiles softly as she looks into Jake’s eyes. “You have such a big heart, Jake. And I appreciated you wanting to make this special for me.”

“I love you.”

“What?” Willow sits up, eyes still never leaving Jake’s. In the 2 years they had been together, neither one had ever said those 3 words, choosing to go slow in their relationship, despite already living together.

“I… I love you, Willow.” Jake says, sitting up with her. “I have since that day we ran into each other.”

“I-I…” Willow stutters, still in shock from Jake saying it.

“You don’t have to say it back, darlin. But I will always love you.”

“I love you too.” Willow smiles, Jake’s eyes light up. “I love you so much!” She shouts, tackling Jake to the bed.

2011, NAS North Island, California

“Hey Vixen! You coming out with us?”

“I don’t know guys. We have a big day tomorrow.” Willow sighs.

“Come on! You never go out with us anymore.” One of the other girls chimed in.

“That’s because you all go out to get laid and I get left alone at the bar.” Willow points out, sitting down on the couch in the pilot lounge.

“So then we will find you a guy to go home with before we ever try for hours.”

Willow is about to protest when another voice interrupts. “I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure her boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“Jake!” Willow jumps up, pushing past her fellow pilots and WSOs to reach her boyfriend who stands in the doorway. “What are you doing here!?” She questions, wrapping herself around her boyfriend.

“Can’t surprise my best girl?” Jake mutters into the crook of her neck, holding her tightly.

The couple had seen each other a total of 6 months in the last 3 years because of deployments and detachments. When Willow got the call from Top Gun, she immediately called Jake to share news. Though her excitement faded when she found out that not only had Jake not gotten called as well, but he was shipping out 2 days before she was to arrive in California for the Indian Ocean.

“I will always take a surprise but you weren’t supposed to be back until after my session. What happened? Is everything okay?” Willow pulls back immediately, worry lacing her voice.

“Everything is okay, we finished the mission early so they sent us home. Not happy to see me?”

“Of course I’m happy to see you.” Willow smiles, kissing her boyfriend of 5 years.

“Plus, I would never miss my gorgeous girlfriend graduating top of her class at Top Gun.”

“I'm not gonna be top of the class.” Willow laughs as Jake leads her away from the other pilots.

“Bullshit! I know you hate it but Darlin you are Pete Mitchell’s daughter. It’s in your genetics. And you’ve had Iceman coaching you the whole way. You’ll be top of the class. I know it.”

And Jake certainly was right, and a year later, Jake was top of his class. Ice looked on proudly as Willow and Jake took pictures with the Top Gun trophy at Jake’s graduation. The bright smile on Willow’s face as Jake held her close, pressing random kisses to her cheek as Phoenix and Coyote took pictures of them, made Iceman smile to himself. He always wanted Willow to find her own family after everything and she did.

“Congratulations Lieutenant Seresin.” Ice smiles, walking up to the group.

“Thank you Admiral Kazansky.”

“I’m hosting a celebratory dinner at my house. Phoenix, Coyote, you are both welcome to join us.”

“We’d be honored sir.” Phoenix nods. “I’ll send these to you, Vix. I got a couple errands to run.” Phoenix gives Willow a quick hug. “Congrats again, Hangman.”

“Thanks Phoenix.” Jake nods. “I have a surprise for you.” Jake whispers to Willow. “Wanna sneak out of here?”

“Hell yeah. Lead the way.” Willow smiles.

Jake pulls up to a secluded part of the beach, quickly climbing out and running around to Willow’s door and opening it for her. “Darlin.” Jake bows, holding a hand out for Willow. She laughs as she lets him guide her away from the truck.

“The beach? Jake, I’ve been to the beach before.” Willow laughs.

“Oh trust me. I know darlin.” Jake winks. “No, that's not your surprise.” Jake lead’s Willow across the sand towards the waterfront. “Willow, darlin, you know I love you, right.”

“Of course. You know I love you?”

“Always Darlin.” Jake smiles. “I want to promise you something.” Jake says, pulling a small box out of his pocket.

“Jake-“ Willow tries to stop him but Jake quickly cuts her off.

“It’s not a proposal darlin. I know you aren’t ready for it.”

“It's not that I’m not ready. We're just getting started in our careers.”

“I know, Darlin. Which is why this is a promise ring.” Jake opens the box to show the dainty ring. The helix design completes the circle. “A promise that you are it for me. That one day and we are both good and ready. I will trade this out for an engagement ring and I’ll marry you and only you.”

“Jake-“ Willow smiles, tears in her eyes as she stares at the ring. Jake slowly slips the ring onto her ring finger, kissing on top of it as it settles.

“I love you, Willow.”

“I love you too, Jake.”

“I have some not so good news though.” Jake says, fiddling with the ring.

“What?”

“I got pulled onto a mission. We leave tomorrow and won't be back for 6 months.”

“Oh.” Willow looks towards her hand as Jake continues to fiddle with the ring. “It’s a dangerous one isn’t it?” She questions, still not meeting his eyes.

“Yea, darlin. It’s not the safest.” Jake lifts her chin to look her in the eyes. “But I promise, I will do everything to come home to you.”

“You better. Cause if this,” she holds up her hand, “don't get upgraded one day, I’m gonna hurt you.” Willow laughs as Jake starts laughing with her.

“I will always come home to you.”

2012, USS Rosevelt, Atlantic Ocean

Jake had yet to meet his bunkmate since arriving on the carrier. His biggest hope was that it wasn’t someone who would constantly bring a lover in every night but he also just wanted someone bearable for the next half a year.

“Hey man, it’s good to meet you.”

Jake turns from his desk and his blood runs cold. He recognizes the pictures from Ice’s house. He is staring into the same eyes that were pictured next to Willow for years. “Yea, Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Callsign Hangman.” Jake nods, shaking the outstretched hand of the man before him.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster.”

The next 6 months was going to be nothing but torture to Jake. In an attempt to keep the peace, he never let Rooster see the photos of Willow, nor did he talk about her around him. He also never mentioned his bunkmate when he got the opportunity to call Willow. But that didn’t stop either of them from questioning Jake about the other.

“So do you like your bunkmate?” Willow questions, her laptop set up on the desk before her.

“He’s not bad. Little annoying, terribly slow flier.”

Willow chuckles at his complaint. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darlin. 4 more months.”

“4 more months.” She sighs. “Can you give me any updates on the mission?”

“You know I can’t. But I can tell you that it’s gonna be awhile before we can talk again.”

“Oh-“

“Hey Hangman! We’re going to Target’s room for a couple of beers, you comin?”

“Is that Bradley?” Willow questions.

“Uh, not tonight Rooster. I’m on a call.” Jake shouts back.

“Oh is it the mysterious Vixen?” Bradley’s face pops up onto the screen and Willow hides her face.

“Jake I gotta go.”

“Okay Darlin. I love-“ the call ended before he could say anything.

“Damn, you must’ve really pissed her off.”

“Yea, that wasn’t me.” Jake sighs, closing the laptop and making his way towards his room.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rooster questions, following him.

“It’s not my place, Rooster.”

“Not your place? Who the fuck is your girlfriend man?”

“You know her a lot better than you think.” Jake mumbles, grabbing his shower gear from the bottom of the closet.

“Willow? Little Willow? You’re dating my little sister?”

“God sister. And I seem to remember you haven’t talked to her since ‘97.” Jake nearly growls at Bradley. “So don’t act all high and mighty. She doesn’t claim you so don’t claim her.”

“Lieutenants. Suit up, we’re heading out.”

“The mission’s not for another week.” Bradley protests.

“Change of plans.”

2012, NAS North Island, California

Willow groans leaning against the chair of the office. She sits in the silence of her office before Ice enters.

“Hey little bird. Everything alright?”

“Yea, I just haven’t heard anything from Jake.” She pauses. “You know Bradley’s there.” Willow sighs, her hand coming up to rub her face.

“I do.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“You said you didn’t give two shits about what Bradley and your father were doing. I was just doing what you asked.” Ice retorts.

Suddenly Willow’s phone rings, she stands moving across her office as she answers. “Hello?” She immediately met with the constant rambling from the other side. “Woah, slow down. Nancy, what happened?” She questions, walking around her rooms again.

“Mama just got a call from a restricted number and now she won’t stop crying!”

“Shit, gimme a second.” Willow mutes herself and sets the phone down on her desk.“What happened?” She questions Ice.

“What do you mean?”

“Nancy.” Willow points to her phone. “Jake’s mom won’t stop crying after getting a call from a restricted number. What happened to Jake?”

“He’s MIA, Willow. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Willow gasps. “No, no, no. This cannot be happening.” Willow drops into the chair beside her.

“Willow, I’m so sorry.” Ice moves around the desk to pull Willow into a hug.

“They gotta find him.” She cries. “They need to find him.”

“On my orders, they aren’t going to stop looking for him.” Ice comforts.

“Please, dad. I don’t wanna lose him.” Ice froze. He’d always considered Willow like a daughter but she had never called him dad before.

“I promise little bird. They’re gonna find him.”

“Willow?! What’s going on?”

“Shit. Nancy.” Willow scrambles over to her phone. She quickly wipes her tears and takes a deep breath. “Hey, uhm, Jake’s MIA.”

“Holy shit. Are they looking for him?”

“Yea. Yea it’s a non-stop search right now. I'll transfer any updates to me and I’ll let you know. So that way Mama doesn’t have to go through it over and over.”

“Okay. Keep me posted. I’m gonna get Mama to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yea, Talk later.”

“Hey, Willow?”

“Yea?”

“Take care of yourself. It’s not just you anymore.”

“Of course.” Willow ends the call, tossing her phone back onto the desk, she leans back into Ice’s hold, the tears returning.

“It’s okay, let it out.” Ice mutters, holding Willow close.

“I’m pregnant.” Willow cries.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant, dad. I can’t lose him. We can’t lose him.” She rests a hand on her stomach. She had just found out about two weeks ago, 6 weeks after Jake had left. She didn’t have the will to tell Jake, while he was gone.

2013, USS Rosevelt, Atlantic Ocean

3 months. It had been 3 months since Jake disappeared and despite every rule in the Navy, Willow was pacing Ice’s office on the carrier, 21 weeks pregnant. As soon as word came in that they might’ve found him, Ice immediately took off to the carrier and despite his protests Willow was right behind him.

“What do we have on his location?” Ice questions.

“They raided an enemy bunker. There’s signs that he was there recently. He can’t be far but they’re still looking.”

“Keep looking. Do not stop until there is physical proof he’s dead.”

“Yes sir.” Ice dismisses the Commander and turns to Willow.

“Sit d-“

“Don’t.”

“Willow, stressing is not good for the baby.” He sighs.

“Jake being dead isn't good for the baby. Or me.” Willow snaps back.

“He’s not dead.”

“It's been 3 months!”

“And there is no proof he’s gone.”

“But there’s no proof he’s alive.” Willow sighs, her pacing continuing.

“Willow, I am already allowing you to break rules. Sit down, please.”

“Fine, only if you take it easy too.” Willow protests.

“I’m fine, Willow.”

Willow shoots him a knowing look. “You’re missing treatments for this.”

“Willow, I’m fine, trust me.” Suddenly a Lieutenant barges into the office.

“Admiral Kazansky, Lieutenant Mitchell. We found him.”

“Jake!” Willow runs up to the stretcher as they wheeled him away from the helicopter.

“Ma’am we need you to step back.”

“She’s his next of kin. She goes with him.” Ice shouts, following behind them.

“Oh god baby. Oh my god.”

“He’s malnourished and dehydrated but other than that he’s going to be just fine, physically.” One of the medics rattle off.

“Physically?” Willow questions.

“He’s been through hell and back, Lieutenant. There’s no telling what that did to him mentally.”

“Oh god, Jake.”

Willow sat up from the makeshift bed she had made on the chair in the hospital room. She was already majorly uncomfortable because of the pregnancy but the chair was definitely not helping. 3 days in the chair definitely didn’t help her back either.

“Lieutenant Mitchell?”

“Yes?” She turns to spot the doctor in the doorway.

“How are you this afternoon?”

“As well as I can be.”

“You know we can still move a cot in here, we’d much prefer it, including Admiral Kazansky.” The doctor insists as she checks Jake’s vitals.

“I’m alright. How is he?” She asks, stepping up to the bedside, reaching to hold Jake’s hand.

“Better. We started weaning him off the medication keeping him under last night. He should be waking up soon. If he does wake, let us know if there is anything wrong. Otherwise a nurse will come in on her rounds.”

“Thank you.” She turns back to Jake, who for once in the last 3 days looked peaceful. She sighs, reaching up to brush loose hair back.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anyone would be in here.” Willow turns and quickly turns back around, electing to not saying anything to the figure that just walked in. “How are you?”

“You’ll have to go, only one person is allowed in here.” She responds.

“Willow…”

“Leave me alone.”

“Come on, we haven’t seen each other in years. Why don't we go up to the mess hall? Catch up.” Bradley continues, walking further into the room.

“I said leave me alone, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Or do I need to call an Admiral?” Willow seeths, still not turning towards the door.

“Fine. Don't say I never tried.” She rolls her eyes as she hears the door close behind him. Sighing, she turns away from to bed to pour herself a glass of water when she suddenly hears a groan. She quickly turns to see Jake trying to sit up. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, don’t get up.”

“What? Willow?” Jake questions, voice hoarse from the lack of use.

“Hi baby. It's me.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He cries, pulling Willow into a tight hug, or as tight as his weakened body could muster.

“Neither did we.” She says softly, holding Jake close.

“We?” He pulls back for the hug, looking for a correction but only gets a worried smile.

“We.” She softly moves his hand to rest on her small bump.

“Holy shit.” Jake says, barely above a whisper, eyes wide. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yea, yea Jake.”

“Oh my god!” He pulls her back into a hug, practically dragging her on top of him. “Holy shit! We're gonna be parents.”

2013, NAS North Island, California

“So you’re telling me, you have no idea the gender nor what you’re going to name them?” Phoenix asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“We’ve been so busy, between paperwork and Jake’s test flights, it's been a nightmare to have a calm moment between us.

“Vixen! You’re due any day now!”

“I have ideas! Just nothing settled.”

“Let me hear them.”

“For a boy, Beau.”

“Absolutely not, you wanna name your child after Rear Admiral Simpson?”

“Oh I knew there was no way I truly liked that name. How about Easton?”

“Could be good, Easton Seresin…” Phoenix trails off.

“Nevermind I hate it. Tyler? Tyler Seresin.”

“I think that sounds perfect, darlin.” Jake’s voice comes from the now open front door.

“Hey! How was work?” Willow struggles to stand for the couch but manages, walking over to greet him at the door.

“You know exactly how work was.” He sighs, kissing her gently before heading to the master of their on base house. “Hey Phoenix.”

“Hey Bagman.” Phoenix says. “How about a girl?”

“Only one on my list. Ellorie.”

“That is beautiful. I love it.” Phoenix smiles.

“It is uh?” Willow beams to herself as she walks into the kitchen. “I honestly hope it’s a gi-“

“Willow? You okay?”

“Oh!”

“Willow?” Phoenix jumps up and runs into the kitchen to see Willow standing over a puddle.

“Oh my god.”

“What is it? Is everything okay?”

“Get. Jake. Now.” She says between breaths.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Phoenix curses. “Bagman!”

“What?”

“It’s time!”

“What do you mean it’s time?!”

“Jacob Grant if you don’t get out here right now and get me in the car I am having this baby without you!” Willow shouts as another contraction rolls through.

“I’m coming!” Jake barrels through the hallway, their hospital bag slung over his shoulders. He immediately guides Willow out to his truck, helping her up into the seat while Phoenix drops their bag into the backseat.

“Be safe! Call me when they’re here!” Phoenix shouts as Jake pulls out of the driveway.

“Okay just hold on, darlin.” Jake repeats as Willow grips tightly to the armrest, another contraction ripping through her. “It’s okay Darlin.”

“Stop, you’re not helping.” Willow groans in pain.

“I’m trying to help, but I don’t know what to do.” Jake says, rubbing circles into her hand.

“You can not tell me it’s okay when I’m about to push a baby that most definitely got your big head out of my vagina!” Willow shouts.

“Hey, you like my big head. And we’re going to love theirs. Almost there.”

10 excruciating hours later and Jake and Willow sat in the comfort of their hospital room with their bundle of joy wrapped in their arms.

“Knock knock.”

“Hey! Ice!”

“There’s my two favorite pilots.”

“Hey dad.” Willow smiles. “You wanna meet your honorary granddaughter?”

“It’s a girl?” Ice gasps, walking over to the bedside.

“Ellorie Serena Seresin.” Jake smiles as Ice takes Ellorie from Willow.

“She’s beautiful, Willow. Looks just like you.” Sarah smiles, pulling Willow into a hug.

“I think she looks more like Jake.” Willow laughs.

“Absolutely not, darlin. She definitely looks more like you.” Jake presses a kiss to her head as Ice and Sarah coo over the baby. “You did good, mama.”

“Mama? No more darlin no that the baby is here?” Willow questions.

“Absolutely not. You will always be my darlin but you're also mama now.” Jake’s smiles. “You know I love you?”

“Absolutely. You know I love you too?”

“Always Darlin.”

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lysol1201 · 11 months

Text

One Hell of a Vacation

RE4!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You're in Spain for a vacation, but you wound up in the wrong place… you find your savior, but… you might annoy him. Just a little.

Takes place in modern times and not 2005, because I said so, and so then I could make certain jokes lol

Also, probably not very correct in the timeline of the game, it's really just for the haha's LMAO

Word Count: 1409

Genre: Mostly just comedy

TW: profanity, not beta read (we die like luis)

++++

Leon walked up to a home with his gun in hand. He’d already encountered many… “locals” in Spain, and he was always prepared to be greeted by more. He didn’t expect to hear whines from behind the door, though. Unsure if it could actually be an enemy or not, he knocked. Suddenly the whines stopped and it sounded like someone held their breath.

“Who’s in there?” He spoke with a stern tone. No response. “You don’t have to pretend, I know you’re in there,” He sighed.

“Nobody’s home,” A small voice spoke, almost like a squeaky mouse.

Leon groaned and placed his forehead on the door while he leaned onto it. “I can’t deal with this shit…” He muttered to himself. “I’m coming inside!”

“That’s trespassing!” The tiny voice spoke up again. “No one’s here!”

Leon ignored the small voice and went to open the door anyway, which was locked. “Unlock the door, or I kick it down,” He demanded. Silence. “Okay,” He shrugged and backed up. He put all of his strength into his right leg and kicked the doorknob, forcing it open.

“Ahhh!” The no longer squeaky voice yelled at the loud bang and him as he walked in. They were sitting in the opposite corner of the room from the door. Knees-up, arms wrapped around their legs. “Don’t come any closer I, uh,” They stuttered, searching around them in a panic. “I have a stick and I know how to use it!” They grabbed the wooden stick next to them and pointed it at Leon.

Leon’s shoulders slumped and he sighed in annoyance. He pulled up his gun and pointed it at them. “Who are you?”

“Guns aren’t something to mess around with, you know!” They panic again. “Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me!”

“Tell me who you are, or I’ll shoot you like you’re one of the cultists!” Leon threatened.

“Please, I don’t even know how to speak Spanish!” They shouted in fear, dropping the stick and raising both hands up in surrender. “Please, I came to Spain on vacation and now Adam Sandler is trying to get in my head,” They started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Adam…” Leon put down his gun and looked at the person in complete disbelief. “Sandler?” He groaned and threw his head down, placing two fingers on his temple as he massaged it. “Do you mean… Osmund… Saddler?”

They look up at Leon through their blurred tears, and their facial expression almost turned into one of shock. “Oh my God, I thought they were saying Adam Sandler this whole time!” They exclaimed, then began sobbing more uncontrollably. “I’m so stupid!” They groaned into their hands while they covered their face.

If Leon could abandon this random human, he would. Unfortunately, he was… a good person. He groaned at the thought. “What’s your name?” He sighed in defeat.

They released their hands from their face and looked at Leon with puffy red eyes. “I’m Y/N,” You replied.

Leon walked forward to you and crouched down to your level. You flinched slightly. “I’m Leon,” He introduced himself and stuck out his hand. “I’m here to help,”

You looked at him in awe as he began to be more calm and assuring towards you. “Really?” Your words came out in a whisper.

“Yes,” Leon responded. “Really,” You took his hand and he helped you get up on your two feet. “How did you get here, anyway?”

You scratch the back of your head and chuckle awkwardly. “Long story,”

“I got all day. Except not really,”

“So, basically I had a pen pal from Spain, and we planned this trip to meet, but I got here, and I was like ‘woah, they aren’t at our meeting place, did I get catfished?’ or however it’d be, and so I asked around the town for their location and people knew who they were, but said they recently went missing, so I was like ‘yo what the fuck’ and so they explained to me all the missing people shit and this area and that my friend had come here, so I decided to Nancy Drew this shit thinking I was the bravest person to walk the Earth, and now I’m here,” You responded in one long run-on sentence in one long breath. Once finished, you started breathing heavily to catch your breath. “There’s the TLDR.”

Leon listened attentively to your TLDR. “Do you know where they are now?”

“Oh, they’re dead,” You spoke bluntly. “Like, dead dead. SUPER dead.” You laughed, but it was obvious to mask the pain and trauma of whatever happened.

“How did they die?”

“Have you seen the anime, Chainsaw Man?”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Leon sighed, unsure of what to say. “I’m in way too much shock right now to think, if I just smile, it never happened, right?” You speak with a look of pain on your face along with a smile. You kind of look awkward and freaky.

“It happens,” Leon shrugs. “Anyway, I need to find someone. I’m on a rescue mission for her. I had her, but she ran after Saddler had gotten to her. Have you seen a young girl with blonde hair anywhere?”

You shake your head. “I’ve been hiding in here for a long time now. I haven’t seen much,” You explain. “I also really need to pee, so it’s hard to pay attention to anything,”

Leon groans in annoyance. “Is there not a bathroom in this place?”

“There is a bathroom here, but that’s disgusting! I don’t want to get some disease, or even worse, have some worm thing eat my ass!” You complain, your words shocking Leon and having his entire body language and facial expression fall in defeat.

“I have no idea what to do with you,” Leon mumbles. “Is there a bush outside you can just use?” He huffs out.

“But what will I wipe with? I don’t want piss on my underwear.”

“A leaf, I don’t know?”

“Wouldn’t that be painful?”

“God, just piss your pants then for all I care!” Leon’s voice raised in frustration. He was so upset and annoyed, and you were no help for him. But, he couldn’t just leave an innocent civilian, either. “You can argue with me about where to piss, or you can just do it! I’m going to leave here with or without you!”

“Okay, okay, God, I’ll pee in the bush!” You shouted back and rushed out the back door. Leon waited, quite impatiently, and when you returned from your bathroom break he looked at you in defeat. “I’ve successfully pissed in the bush,”

Leon shut his eyes tightly. He was never one to be religious, but he was suddenly praying to God to give him strength to deal with you. “Let’s get going,” He huffed.

When you two had turned around to walk away, two locals had begun to walk over. You screamed. Obviously, like any normal human being. Leon quickly took out a shotgun and shot both, their heads blown to pieces. You stared in shock. Your face then turned pale when tentacles came wiggling out of their necks where their head should be.

“Oh my God, why are they worms!” You screamed. “No, I will not love you if you were a worm, get away!” You panicked, going over to Leon and grabbing the pistol in his holster.

“What are you-“ But before he could finish his question, you began shooting aimlessly at the worms.

“This is why I don’t wanna use the toilet! What if they eat my ass!” You scream, your eyes shut as you continue to shoot. You were lucky that you didn’t shoot Leon, and the locals did get shot a couple of times, but you did waste all the ammo Leon had.

“God fucking dammit!” Leon shouted as he turned back to the enemies and shot them with his shotgun again, enough to kill them entirely. “What the fuck were you doing?” He shouted at you.

“Self-defense!”

“You used all the ammo!”

“I was scared!”

“Gah!”

“Ahh!”

After Leon was done with his fit of frustrated grunts, and you finished your confused screams, you both caught your breath. “I’m going to help you leave,” He started to speak while he panted. “And then I never want to see you again. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You squealed with fear and saluted Leon.

You were having one hell of a vacation.

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy x reader

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stxrmylxve · 11 months

Note

Okay, so, basic idea is that Kazutora has known reader a long time, all the way back to their teen years, and he learned as a teen (by accident) that reader sometimes talks in their sleep. So, as an adult, when he gets invited over to stay the night with them after dinner for like, a show or movie marathon, he's kind of anticipating more of that? I made a post about it, here's the full idea, since it's a lot for me to re-write an explanation of. 🤣

https://www.tumblr.com/xenamorph93/719573197072318464/i-need-to-catch-up-on-all-things-tr-because-now?source=share

I'd love to see what you can do with this one, the last prompt I asked you about you wrote SO WELL, AHH ❤️

Pairing: kazutora (2005) x gn!reader

“Can you come over tonight? For like… i dont know, a few movies maybe?” you ask, awkwardly sifting through your hair with your fingers as you bashfully looked away.

“Are you proposing a date?” kazutora teases as you playfully smack his arm, rolling your eyes and hopping into his car anyways, knowing full well he would follow you ultimately to your house.

“You know I always fall asleep when it gets this late, so don’t expect too much now.” you laugh as you gaze out the window, watching the trees wizz by your window silently.

Yet, as you pulled into your driveway, a sudden familiar lethargic feeling took over your body. Kazutora picked up on this too, grabbing your bag for you and holding the door for ample amount of time for you to get out. He took your keys from your hand and unlocked the door, stepping aside for you to stumble to the couch with a small laugh.

“Flip on a movie, I will get my stuff and put it up-“

“No, sit down. Pick the movies you want to watch. I know where you put stuff anyways.” kazutora interupts as he wanders off, leaving you stunned yet still with a small smile on your face.

He returns as you noted the new releases that had recently came out, forming a small plan in your head as to what order you wanted to watch everything in. He settles on the couch beside you, stretching out to quirk his eyebrow as the tv.

“A horror movie? Don’t you always get scared?” he asks, a small grin on your face as you huff, confirming his question with an indirect yes.

“Not today, I’ve changed.” you challenge.

Yeah, no. You were clinging onto him within half an hour of the movie starting as you carefully peered past his chest. His arm wrapped around your burrowed figure as his eyes remained glued on the tv, bringing you closer so that you could hide better if you eventually needed to.

What he didn’t know, however, was that his sheer warmth was lulling you to sleep faster than ever. And eventually he found out because your soft snores sounded in the room when there was a rare silent moment in the movie.

He peered down to confirm his suspension before flipping off the tv and brushing back his hair with his hand. He reached for his pack of cigarettes to go take a smoke, halting his movements when he heard small murmurs from you as your talking began.

“Mmm. kazu, no. I will stay awake… no!” you blabbed as you shifted a little in your sleep. He chuckled softly as he thought of how you were trying to prove yourself to him, probably fighting a meer tease of his about how you were old and had a bedtime for yourself.

“c’mere mrs. pop. no, you’re not a cow, you’re a sheep.” you said randomly, making him stifle a laugh as he looked away, holding in a laugh so that he wouldn’t wake you up quite yet.

He would tease you later on, though.

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aceofwhump · 4 months

Note

List your top 10 favorite films in whatever order you like, but explain your very favorite! Pass this on to whomever you want to learn more about them! Have a good day!

I love this! Thank you! Okay I was working on a list and started chuckling because they are the least whumpy movies ever lol. I think I'm gonna surprise a lot of people with these picks but anyways, here's some of my favorite movies!

Encanto

Easy A

The Man From Uncle

Crazy Rich Asians

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle

Pride and Prejudice 2005

Cinderella 2015

D2 The Mighty Ducks

The Martian

And my all time favorite movie is Back to the Future (all 3 but 1 is really my favorite of the 3)

I don't know how to properly explain why this movie is my favorite thing but it is. It pleases the history nerd in me, the sci fi nerd in me, the comedy nerd in me and wraps it all up in one fantastic movie. The music is a blast (I got to perform the music in high school band and it was so much fun) and I love time travel movies. You can't go wrong with the dynamic duo of Christopher Lloyd and Michael J Fox. I have the whole franchise basically memorized due to how many times I've watched it.

#mod replies #ask #my favorite movies

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iruinn · 7 months

Text

baby, you're the sweetest thing ❀ nanami kento

chapter 2

cw : none that apply

wc : 2005

masterpost

You were fine.

No, really. You were. A plane to your hometown, followed by a short car ride to the mansion your family lived in. It wasn’t a journey new to you, and you’re reminded of many trips back and forth during your time in university and the first few years after that, when you were living alone.

Of course, that was before your ex-boyfriend dumped you, and then started dating your younger sister just a couple of months afterwards. After your own mother pointed out that he was probably better suited for your sister anyway since you moved away from home, refusing to take over the family business.

And of course, that was before you had to make the journey with a man you privately thought was the hottest man in existence.

The man in question is currently waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blink up at him, realizing you had been staring blankly at the pages in the magazine in front of you.

“Planning to buy a yacht?”

“Wuh?” You realise the page you’re on is advertising fancy sailboats. You snort, putting it away. “I work as an editor, Kento. Not exactly yacht buying money.”

He eyes you, curiously. “Gojo told me a bit about your family and what I should expect going in. Your family seems more like the type.”

You stretch in what little space the plane seat affords you. “You could say that. We’re kind of one of the richest families in Sendai, I think. Silver spoon, bells and whistles and all.” You turn towards Nanami, your knee knocking into his. “Worried about the lion’s den you’re walking into?”

He lifts his hand, picking up a strand of your hair and twirling it around his fingers. Right. This was something you had discussed and agreed upon, to be slightly touchy with each other even in private so you’d be able to put on a convincing facade in front of the vultures.

That was totally why you agreed to the idea.

“Should I be worried?”

Even as he asked, he looked extremely unmoved by the prospect. You side eye him silently. His clothes were seemingly normal looking, but you were more focused on the watch wrapping around his wrist. A Patek Philippe. Somehow, you think he’ll be fine.

You say as much to him, and he smiles. “I’ll strive to live up your expectations, (name).” Flushing, you pull away slightly, and he lets your hair go, his hand lingering, before he reaches again to tuck the strand behind your ear.

You cast your thoughts about for a topic of conversation, the silence between you both stifling. “While we’re here, we should probably decide on a suitable cover story, right? About how we met and started dating, how long it’s been, and all.”

He sits back, flagging down an airhostess for champagne, and pouring you both a glass. “It’s better to stick to some semblance of the truth, so its easier to not get the facts confused.”

“Yes….?” You drawl, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We met at a nightclub. Introduced by some common friends, of course.” The start of this story sounds extremely familiar, and you feel your cheeks growing red at the memory.

“Don’t tell me..”

He continues, emboldened by your reaction. “We spent the entire night talking. Dancing.” He leans closer to you and you’re glued in place, held by his intense gaze. “Flirting.”

You’re struggling to keep a straight face, and you think you’ve failed already, looking at the glint of amusement in his eyes.

“How could I not be charmed? You were utterly adorable, even more so when drunk. It was a battle I had lost from the beginning. And of course, I had to call you up the next morning to ask you out on a proper date, which led to more dates.”

You giggle. “And then?”

“Didn’t take me long to ask you to be my girlfriend. Gojo definitely subjected us to a lot of gloating and teasing after the fact. We’ve been deeply in love since, of course.”

He lifts up your free hand with his, linking your fingers.

“Well? Think that’s convincing enough to fool your family?”

You feel like a bucket of cold water was upended over your head. You were so caught up in his narration you forgot he was making all of this up for the pantomime you had pulled him into. You bite your inner cheek, coming back to your senses.

“That..makes sense. It was how we met, so even if the rest of it is a lie, it would be easier to build on it.” You nod furiously. You really needed to steel your heart more. This man was extremely dangerous for your blood pressure.

Nanami looks like he wants to say something else, but you’re distracted by the sound of the seatbelt lights pinging on, and the pilot announcing that you would be landing in Sendai very soon.

You look outside the window, pointing out the sparkling lights in of the skyline to Nanami as the buildings grow larger in the window.

You were finally home.

“You know, for someone that warned me about your family many times, you somehow seem more nervous than I am.”

You let out a breath, gripping Nanami’s hand tighter. “It’s been a few months and the last time I visited…things were much different.”

Staring at the large gate, your hand moves to the intercom, about to press the button, before the gate slams open on its own. You jump back in shock, stumbling, and Nanami quickly lets go of your hand, before moving his to your waist and gripping you tight to him to prevent you from falling over. Your insides clench when you feel his tightly muscled body against yours, his large hand and arm holding you steady.

“Careful, darling.” Your eyes shoot up to his in shock at the nickname, and he nods his head towards the gate, behind held open by a familiar teenager who is staring at you in happiness.

The boy rushes towards you, and you escape Nanami’s grasp, opening your arms in a welcoming hug. “Yuuji! You scared me!”

“(name)! It’s been so long since you visited!” You hold the pink haired boy at arms length, grinning.

“This is my boyfriend, Nanami.” You stumble over the words, but Yuuji doesn’t notice. He cheerfully introduces himself to Nanami, and picks up the last suitcase, leading you both in. The mansion your family lives in, that you grew up in, looms over you. Yuuji is questioning Nanami, gesticulating wildly, and you’re grateful to Nanami for answering patiently.

“You’ve grown taller, Yuuji. I’m sorry I haven’t been around in a while.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, I understand why. There’s so much I need to catch you up on!” He looks around you, finally noticing Nanami, who’s been watching you both interact. “Who is this?”

“Ah..” You reach towards him, and he takes your hand, picking up your suitcase with the other hand.

Yuuji was your younger cousin. After your aunt and her husband had died in a car crash when he was just a baby, Yuuji had been brought up and educated under the strict purveyance of your mother, the matriarch of the family. You had always been extremely fond of him, having watched him grow up into the cheerful teenager he is right now.

Speaking of..

“Yuuji…is everybody home?”

He shakes his head. “Seiko and Aunt are out. Think the wedding planner called them up for some last minute adjustments. Uncle is home though, as is everyone else!”

You snort. “I’m sure they are.” You nudge Nanami with your hip. “Ready to meet my family?”

“Lead the way, (name).”

His soothing presence is a balm to your nerves, and you open the front door.

You were fearing your entrance would be dramatic, but the house is surprisingly quiet. The entranceway is as large as u remember it used to be, twin staircases leading upstairs.

“In here!” You hear your dad call out, and you grin. You turn to Nanami, who is staring at the fancy chandelier hung from the ceiling, and gesture at him to follow you. “Dramatic, isn’t it? We aren’t exactly subdued about the wealth.”

“Your mother was never a subtle one.” You turn to your father, standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen and laugh, running into his arms. “Hello, love. I’m quite angry at you, you know?”

Your throat tightens, hearing your dad’s gentle voice and feeling his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dad. I should have visited more.”

“You should have, yes. But you’re here now. With new company, I see.” You extract yourself from his embrace, smiling at Nanami. “Dad, this is-“

Nanami walks up to the both of you, holding out his hand for a handshake. “Nanami Kento, sir. I’m (name)’s boyfriend.”

Your dad stares at him, examining him from head to toe. “I see. Treating her well, I hope.”

You’re pulled to Nanami’s side by him, and he holds up your hand in his, kissing the back of it gently. “She’s very special to me.”

“Kento..” You whisper, embarrassed, and he winks at you. Whatever your dad saw between you both must have convinced him, because he nods at your fake boyfriend. Waving you into the kitchen, he signals for a servant to put away your luggage.

“Come greet your grandmother, love. You can go and freshen up after. Yuuji, son, why don’t we show Nanami to his and (name)’s room?”

Nanami nods at you, letting go of your hand. You think he does it almost reluctantly, but you’re not sure whether that’s just your wishful thinking. You wave at him, and he follows Yuuji and your father up, while you go greet your grandmother in the kitchen.

She’s barking orders at a couple of cooks, her own hands occupied stirring a pot of Nikujaga. Your grandmother remains as active as ever, you’re glad to see, and she looks up at you entering.

“My word, my favourite granddaughter actually remembers I exist?”

That gets a laugh out of you, and you walk up to her, hugging her from the side, peeking over her shoulder at the pot. You spot a pair of chopsticks nearby, and pick it up, inching towards the pot with them “Don’t let Seiko or Yuuji hear you say that.”

She guffaws, slapping away your hands neatly and you wince. “They’ve always known you were my favorite. Why do you think I was against this wedding in the first place?”

“I’m over it now, grandmother, I promise. Besides, I met someone new..”

You avoid her knowing glance. She’s always been able to read you like an open book, but this definitely wasn’t the time for her to predict what you were thinking. “I heard him and your father talk. Is he better looking than Seiko’s to-be-husband?”

Grandmother!” You hiss. She just watches you, unimpressed and waiting for your reply. “Well?”

You move in close, glancing around and making sure no one else could hear. “He most definitely is.”

She smiles at you, and shoos you out of the kitchen. “Go bring him down and introduce him to me officially then.”

You laugh as she ushers you out of the kitchen. As you’re about to head up the stairs, the front door opens, and you turn behind, biting your cheek when you notice the people entering. They’re talking amongst themselves until you clear your throat, after which they realize your presence. They’re staring at you in mild shock.

“Naoya. It’s been a while.”

“Hi mom…Seiko.” You walk forward and give your mother a distant hug, pulling away almost immediately. You don’t extent the same courtesy to your younger sister.

You let out a frustrated breath at the third person who’s still staring at you. Your ex-boyfriend. The man you thought you’d marry someday just a couple of years ago.

#reader has sooo many mommy issues. god bless #tags #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #so many ocs! family drama!

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