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1-800-kami · 8 months

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 ;)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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httpsserene · 2 months

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 “𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤”𝐞𝐝 - 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar’s girlfriend is feral on main. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: crack. this is a shitpost, you have been warned. uh this is completely unrealistic, it’s pure vibes okay. this is not an accurate representation of those mentioned. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau.

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i wouldn’t consider myself an oscar girlie but then,,, i opened tumblr and saw the photos of oscar from when he went karting and um…now have another op 81 mess of a smau! this is completely unserious and it’s inspired by the nefarious actions i would do to oscar’s biceps. inspired by @dwarvenchords and @hookhausenschips ‘s reblog lol. it’s short but, enjoy, loves xxx.

insp. 1 | insp. 2 | taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents ↻

instagram

yninstagram • february 28th

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oscarpiastri: love…you couldn’t even save this for the close friends stories? you had to post it on main yninstagram: did you like my joke? oscar “jack”ed piastri LOL im so clever oscarpiastri: ijbol 😐 yninstagram: i’d be pressed but ur muscles are distracting me oscarpiastri: u should cmere and give them a kiss :)

lilymhe: he let u tie a bow around his bicep?!!! omfg i have to do this with alex yninstagram: i don’t think alex has enough muscles to meet the requirement for the bow :/

landonorris: he’s such a simp landonorris: i would never let my girlfriend tie a bow on me 🥱 yninstagram: step 1: have a girlfriend

logansargeant: your freak out on twitter had a slight mentally-ill aura yninstagram: shut the fuck up and get on a podium before you talk to me yninstagram: gangly bitch + not funny didn’t laugh + L

instagram

yninstagram • february 28th • in between my boyfriends tiddies ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, mclaren, logansargeant, markwebber, and 1,223,458 others

yninstagram: things to do with your boyfriends muscles; listed in the comments below (a huge thanks to the toto user on twt for FINALLY sending me the photo)

tagged oscarpiastri

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yninstagram 1. tie a bow around them (completed)

➥ user thx for sharing the photo

➥ user FUCK! I CAN’T FIND A PIECE OF PAPER TO WRITE THIS ON

yninstagram 2. kiss them (completed)

➥ user awh how cute! going to nap on the interstate rq

➥ user wait for me!

➥ user omg slumberpartyyyyy

yninstagram 3. touch them (completed)

➥ markwebber there’s a time i thought you were a normal girl

➥ yninstagram who told you to think that??

user i know those arms are rock solid 🥴🤤

user i’m the toto user on twitter !!! she did not kill me y’all !!!

➥ user u were flirting with death babes

➥ user i would not have admitted to this under her post

➥ user you should seek witness protection 🙏🏾

yninstagram 4. have him suffocate you with them (he said no)

➥ oscarpiastri WHY DID YOU INCLUDE THIS ONE

➥ logansargeant i think you’re proving the mentally-ill part y/n

➥ yninstagram u sound jealous logan

➥ user personally, i think if you didn’t want her to say that, you shouldn’t have muscles @/oscarpiastri

➥ oscarpiastri oh! yeah! why didn’t i think of that—lemme just take them off rq 😐 WTH

yninstagram 5. wall sex (?)

➥ oscarpiastri i specifically said not to say #4 and #5 in public

➥ user the question mark is SENDING MEEEEE

➥ yninstagram i mean, i can tell you that he didn’t say no to this one 😈 @/user

➥ landonorris i did not want to see this when i opened ig

➥ yninstagram do us all a favor then and delete ur account x

➥ oscarpiastri what she said^

➥ landonorris :o -> :(

yninstagram 6. draw on them (in progress)

➥ user wait this one is actually cute 🤭

➥ oscarpiastri watching the pure concentration on her face is adorable

➥ user omg she’s so 👉🏼👈🏼 coded

➥ oscarpiastri it tickles lol

➥ yninstagram ur moving around too much

➥ yninstagram might have to tie you to the headboard 😏

➥ user and she’s back on her bs

yninstagram 7. watch him flex for you (ongoing indefinitely)

➥ mclaren do we have your permission to post oscar thirst traps now?

➥ yninstagram i’m sure we could work out something mutually beneficial

oscarpiastri • february 28th • my girl’s basement ⚑

liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1,478,539 others

oscarpiastri she knocked out on my chest halfway through drawing on me. didn’t know this was part of the boyfriend job description, felt like there was some false adverting. overall: 12/10 experience, will be doing this again.

view comments

danielricciardo didn’t know where this was going for a sec but fuck you guys are so cute 🥹

➥ oscarpiastri thank you? i guess

➥ user oh to have my relationship praised by danny ric

➥ user girl ur man responds to your texts two days late

➥ user DAMN u didn’t have to air out my business like thatttt

user WHAT DID SHE USE TO DRAW ON YOU OSCAR??? HELP A GIRL OUT

➥ oscarpiastri its liquid eyeliner 🫡

➥ oscarpiastri she used an eyeshadow palette when she wanted to add colors

➥ user why did i never think of that, she’s so smarttttt

user oscar piastri the MAN that u AREEEE

logansargeant so,,,,are we still getting dinner later orrrrr

➥ user LOL

➥ user omg y/n was right logan IS jealous

➥ logansargeant im not jealous !!!!

➥ user 💀

➥ user okayyyy….we believe you LMAOOOOO

➥ oscarpiastri ijbol 😂

➥ logansargeant stop using ijbol it’s not funny

➥ user this will be the only time that i say i agree with logan on something

➥ logansargeant ur literally a fan account FOR ME?? @/user

➥ user yeah man u didn’t have to bring that up 😒

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff

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damazcuz · 2 years

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One more question(for now) why do people on tumblr use tags to talk #like this #about whatever they think of the post, instead of just commenting on the reblog😭 Is there an etiquette I'm missing?

short answer: yes.

long answer, there is an etiquette to it, and I think it's a longstanding thing that just ended up ingrained in a lot of users, which comes off as cold/shy/outlandish or maybe even standoffish to people from other sites and apps. there's no be-all end-all of how to act online or on here but i think in terms of most* people (*speaking broadly, making this up) who've used tumblr for a while it feels like this:

tumblr is a theater, the dashboard is a stage, each post is a performance. (a joke, a dramatic act, a story, a movie, a picture, etc.) you have a variety of ways to interact with the performance, but some of them are going to be more frowned upon--based purely on how the long standing visitors of the theater are used to acting, honestly.

likes are a polite applause, but they don't show anyone outside of the theater that you enjoyed yourself, or what you enjoyed. the performer appreciates the applause but does not garner any new viewers when you only like a post, btw.

silent reblogs mean you exit the theater with merch or a leaflet and go show it to other people. look what i saw on the stage, don't you want to see it too. this shows the performance to a new variety of viewers, who might then also show it to others.

replies and reblogs with content are often seen as """"rude"""" because they're like standing up at the end of the performance and loudly saying "that was okay but I think MY take on things makes it just a BIT better." people are more forgiving of this when it's something universally true or acceptable, or when it's very funny. if it's not (and even if it is, sometimes,) there'll potentially be a reblog down the line making fun of it (and this is another person in the theater standing up and making a fart noise, regardless of how tasteless or rude.) it's never actually "wrong" to add comments on a reblog unless you're being intentionally hurtful, and it's normal to add commentary to a friend's post, but even then, people seeing this from the outside may see that as obnoxious and impolite and try to call you on it anyway. (people are very weird about enforcing what they see as a universal rule of etiquette, when this is admittedly the only site where you'll be punished for adding to the discussion.)

and again, this is an absolutely arbitrary rule because what one person finds universally true and hilarious, another will find trite and stupid and too niche. the polite thing to do in the case of the latter is just reblog from further up the chain than the commenter, but people aren't always nice when they're annoyed.

getting to your actual question now, comments in the tags are a way to leave remarks that you DON'T want to shout to the whole theater. these are you whispering to yourself or your friend, or writing in a guestbook on the way out. people can see/hear it if they go looking for it, but you're not shouting over the performance to get your piece out. it's polite because it's unobstructive and doesn't take up space, and if your tags don't make sense to someone else or seem too niche, they don't have to share the post with your commentary attached.

adjacent to this, "peer review" or screenshotting someone's tags to insert them in the post is like if you did whisper to your friend, then your friend wrote your comments on a whiteboard and held it up for others to see. as this is a form of commentary within the reblog, it's again subject to an arbitrary universal/niche rule. just because a tag gets peer reviewed doesn't mean it's beyond reproach by strangers.

also in line with this general line of thought experiment, blazing a post means that between acts, you run up on the stage and start shouting your piece. it is, once again, going to be more acceptable to strangers to see you do this if it's something universally funny, true, or cute. this is why niche fandom posts, vent posts, and self promotions get ignored or booed down, while pet birthday photos and silly jokes get blazed and get a lot of notes regardless.

lastly, a kungpowpenis is when twelve+ individuals from the audience get up and beat the shit out of the person performing on stage and leave their corpse on display in the town square.

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vixenvoider · 8 months

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I ENTERED THE VOID STATE

in this post i will explain in depth how i entered the void state and what i manifested. i will be open to questions but if you ask something that i explain in this post i won't answer it just fyi, so even though this will be long, if you are truly curious i encourage you to read the whole thing. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that might be present.

overall story: i have been trying to enter the void for around 2 months now, and finally entered through a lucid dream. one thing i want to note before i tell my story is that i have been lucid dreaming my whole life (so if you never have, i don't know what good steps are for beginners).

the beginning: my journey started when i inadvertently came across a post about how someone else entered the void state and manifested their dream body and face. i was not into manifesting before, in fact, i actually had a problem with the whole concept of the law of attraction and didn't know there were other types of manifestation and never looked deeply into it. that being said, i have always been an open-minded person and also, a more or less spiritual person. i believe in a lot of "out there" things because a lot of said things have been proven to me (through experiences i find hard to explain so i'm not going to). i'm sharing this to let you know that due how deeply i naturally believe in such things i never really had a problem with my void concept, even though i experienced doubts (so for this area i really can't give much advice).

so after learning about the existence of the void state i searched "void state" on tumblr and skimmed some info here and there on it, what i came across included some basic methods on how to enter the void but i didn't fully understand them yet. that same night i followed a shifting guided meditation but i couldn't really get "into" it, i was a naturally anxious person who found it hard to relax so it just wasn't working, but i did see it through and try my best and i think in the long run it helped me. in the guided meditation i listened to, the person makes you walk through a door to get to your desired reality and even though the meditation didn't work, that imagery worked it's way into my subconscious and i had a lucid dream that night. i did not manifest anything that night but it was on purpose (i think). in my lucid dream i woke up in my bedroom. i looked in the mirror and decided i would change what i saw to a more desired appearance and it worked (i looked exactly like the person i was thinking of), then, i decided (with intention) to open my bedroom door and enter my dream house and it worked. at this point in the dream i thought that entering the void must be super easy since i was already basically close and could have done it there if i wanted to BUT i chose to wake up because i wanted to enter the void when i actually knew for sure what i wanted my manifestations to be. i knew i was going to want a lot if i really thought about it and i also didn't want to actually look like someone else (my whole lucid dream i was more trying to test my imagination and build my confidence). the next day i started making a void state list and writing down everything i genuinely wanted for myself.

experiencing doubts: things started to go wrong after that hahah, after my first beginner's luck(?) experience i was struggling to lucid dream (even though i've always naturally been a lucid dreamer, the times it occurs is still random and i couldn't make them happen) and meditations were only getting me so close. all in all, over the past 2 months i had 5 failed lucid dreams and several close, but failed, meditation attempts. this instilled some doubts in me, especially the lucid dreams, because apparently once you lucid dream it's meant to be quite simple but when i would affirm for the void in my dreams i would just wake up or the dream would continue.

another thing that caused me to doubt the void was questioning some of the stories on here. most of them i initially don't believe anyway because it's known there's many liars in the community and there seems to be a trend of people posting void success stories in an attempt to enter to the void (to act as if it already happened) but they technically haven't in reality yet. that being said, i did have some blogs i mostly trusted and then one day one of the blogs i trusted answered an anonymous ask about a success story and it really looked like they sent it to themselves. the reason i thought this was because the op of the blog spells a commonly used word wrong all the time but it's not a spelling mistake people commonly make (in fact, i know no one who makes this spelling mistake) but then the anon that sent them the success story made the exact same spelling mistake. it made me worry that perhaps there were no true success stories because why was this person who supposedly mastered the void bothering with sending asks to themselves to validate their blog? i mean this was all speculation but it still caused me to think.

that being said again, i still basically believed, i just wavered a little, but i definitely believed enough to keep persisting (because why not?)

the success: finally, after almost 2 months i entered the void through a lucid dream. when i realised i was dreaming i tried to make myself stay super grounded in the dream but i also thought about not taking too long since i didn't want to wake up. i did this because i realised the very first night when i had my lucid dream, i didn't get excited and try immediately, i hung around in my dream for a while and just enjoyed things (as i explained). so i wandered around the dream a bit and just looked at things, touched things, tried to feel the temperature and take note of it and then when i felt calm and not too excited i closed my eyes and affirmed for the void and entered. when i got the void i just said "i have everything on my void list" (a few times to make sure) and then stated i was exiting the void state. the void feels how pretty much everyone describes, you just know it's happening and you are pure consciousness.

what i manifested: my void state list ended up being super long and i manifested a lot of personal things that i won't share, which is what i'm sure would be the same for most people, but i'll include a list of things that others might find interesting or encouraging:

desired appearance (including body, face, height etc)

money (i came up with a plan that of how it would make sense in my country to have acquired it)

got rid of my anxiety disorder (having this was probably the most debilitating part of my life, it's also why i know meditation never truly worked for me since i could never relax and it's crazy to feel not severely stressed constantly for the first time in my life)

got rid of my autoimmune disease and fixed my eyesight (i manifested being healthy overall in general)

feel comfortable instantly, i will no longer get too itchy, feel dirty after a long day, be too hot or too cold etc. (can't really attest to this one yet but i have felt no discomfort)

dream living space and whatever bed i sleep in to always be super comfortable

opinion on the void state: overall the point is that the void state is real and you can get anything you want, getting to the void is also easy but it's just about trying to go for it and not getting discouraged. i don't want to share too much of my opinion on this because i actually find it really toxic. some people will get mad if you say you "entered" or "got to" the void because you technically are always the void, and personally, i don't find these slight changes in language to be important unless you are very sensitive to it. for me, it doesn't matter if i think about the void as something i enter or something i am because i believe it exists and that's all i need to know at the end of the day. if you want to see it as something you are, or a state or anything else, i don't think it matters as long as you believe manifestation is possible, you are the creator of your reality, you get to decide what language or thought process works for you :)

common questions: i'm going to answer some question i feel like i will get if people find this post so i'm just going to answer them here. remember that these answers are just my opinion.

question: how come people don't manifest to end world hunger, for everyone to have money, to become the next "big thing", to be a real life superhero, for everyone to be happy etc. truthfully, i think people do manifest that but i don't think they stay in this reality. a lot of people think that using the void at all means you shift your reality, idk if i believe in that, but i would have to assume the people that use the void to manifest very extreme things ultimately have to shift realities. so this would mean the reason you're not seeing these results is because these people are no longer in this reality. if you pay attention i think you will also notice that most void success stories that seem to come from reliable sources (though this is still all personal judgement) seem to be rather humble, these people just manifest to be the prettier version of themselves, to live in a nice place, to be around good people and other similar things. i think people with mostly humble desires stay in this reality and people with more fantastical desires (to be the most famous person ever, to be a multibillionaire, world peace) go elsewhere.

question: why would someone even have humble desires? i can't speak for every single person but i think it's just the desire to stick to the familiar. we want better lives but also want to feel at "home" still, i wanted to still feel like ME. maybe it seems stupid and selfish but if we really are shifting realities every time then there really is no way to actually solve world hunger anyway, it will always exist in this reality even if you or i personally go to another one. at the end of the day, life isn't fair and i am just grateful to have discovered the void to live happily and am sharing this so you can too.

question: i'm worried about the wrong people finding out about the void state. honestly, me too! but i think this falls in line with my past two answers, if someone terrible happened to stumble upon this post and entered the void, i don't think they'd stay here, they will go to some other reality more likely, so i really don't think we have to worry about someone super evil getting to the void and doing something super heinous or whatever. but honestly i do understand the worry. at first when i discovered the void i thought i wouldn't share my success story once i entered because i wanted to keep the void as quiet as possible. but just remember two things: most people do not know about the void and if they do a lot of them will give up and not persist. second, someone really evil finding it will probably leave this reality (my theory).

question: why do people not show better proof. truthfully, i don't know, for me it's because i really do want to live a private life and a lot of stuff i manifested can't be proven anyway. if i show my bank account, it could be photoshop, if i show my new face it means nothing because i revised to always look this way, i can't prove i no longer have my autoimmune disease and the list goes on. i think people with more dramatic proof also want to maintain their privacy or go to other realities. perhaps there's even been people to show dramatic proof in this reality but they had to revise that they didn't because it was a mistake.

question: do you have any overall tips? just keep persisting. and personally, i think it's okay to try several methods at once. i know some people say if you try several then it "cancels out" like, if you try lucid dreaming and it doesn't work so you meditate it means you don't "believe" lucid dreaming can work for you so then that's why it takes you so long but i think you can just tell yourself "every method works for me so i will just keep persisting". another thing i recommend trying for a few days is setting your alarm to go off at different times so day 1 is 8am, day 2 is 7am, day 3 is 9am and so forth. each day set the intention to wake up BEFORE your alarm goes off, once you successfully start waking up a few minutes before your alarm everyday this is your tangible proof that your intentions are working. this isn't really a method but more so a confidence booster that worked for me to remind myself i'm in control and powerful. if you also try this i think after a few days you will feel more confident intending to lucid dream, for your meditations to work, for subliminals to work (whatever is your personal vibe) and you will get there easier hopefully!

question: did you ever do any official lucid dreaming methods. personally the only way i ever had a lucid dream was by intending before sleeping that i would lucid dream. but methods where you wake up by setting your alarm early and going back to sleep and stuff didn't work for me. i tried but due to my anxiety i would always wake up super alert or even stressed, so i could never relax enough. but they are successful for many people so there is no harm in trying.

#void state #void success #void success story #loa #law of assumption

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luna-lovegreat · 6 months

Text

Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

Text

healing the inner child - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: healing max‘s inner child was something you’d do again and again

word count: 1k

warnings: jos verstappen (because he deserves a warning on his own), a bit of angst maybe

note: it was inspired by a post i read earlier here on tumblr and it reminded me of something my therapist once told me; healing the inner child is the greatest way of healing trauma

masterlist / taglist

Max didn’t have a good childhood, Jos ruining the most of it. When you met Max he just won his first championship. You saw him in that nightclub, smiling from ear to ear and glowing like a light bulb. And then there was Jos. He was standing next to Christian Horner, having a heated discussion with him. Christian was seemingly uninterested, rather watching Max having the time of his life. You couldn’t hear what Jos was saying to him, but the fragments you did understand weren’t exactly nice things about his son. If you didn’t know that Jos was Max‘s father, you would think he was his biggest enemy. And that’s exactly what you thought.

You had no idea who Max was at first, you knew he was some big smoke show. But what he actually did, you couldn’t have guessed. You were visiting Abu Dhabi with some of your friends, only just agreeing to the night out, if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Max. At first, he didn’t notice you, a timid shy young woman, standing at the bar and waiting for a bartender to give you your drink of choice. He walked up to the bar, wanting to order a new bottle of champagne. The bartender immediately noticed him and came to his service. You scoffed, how the hell have you been standing there for nearly 10 minutes and no one asked what you wanted, but he just walks up and everyone runs to serve him?

„Everything alright?“, he was asking you, already drunk and careless. Nobody could do him wrong that night, not even a visible angry and confused lady. „I was just standing there for 10 minutes, or more probably, and couldn’t order anything.“ You rolled your eyes. You were annoyed, annoyed with your friends for taking you to this place and annoyed with him and the busy bartenders.

„What would you like, I‘ll put it on my tab and you‘ll have it in a matter of seconds.“ He only meant it nice but to you it seemed cocky. „No thank you, I’d rather wait 10 minutes more, or better, I‘m just going to leave“, you muttered. „Hold up, I only meant it well. What’s going on?“ Max was visibly confused, blending out all of the other people around him, even the upcoming bartender with the new champagne bottle. „None of your business“, you told him, but Max didn’t let go.

You ended up leaving with him, nothing happened that night, just you two talking. He was sharing things with you he never shared with anybody. Things that included Jos. Feeling bad for Max you gave him the card of your therapist, but he just laughed at you and told you he didn’t need a therapist to help him. You once again rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe what he just told you, everyone needs a therapist, but you couldn’t argue with him.

And one leads to another and you and Max got together. You tried to help Max as much as you could, but Jos didn’t agree with your relationship and always got in your way. It was hard, constantly hearing bad things about you, Max and your relationship with him from Jos. Max noticed your mood change every time Jos was around, so he changed the rules for him. He was only to come to races when you were not around. You didn’t want Max to change anything from you, but you were glad Jos was not attending a race. Not for you but for Max. Max deserved to be surrounded by people who loved and supported him.

You made it a habit to celebrate after every race, no matter what position he placed. You went out for ice cream, waffles, pasta or dumplings, everything he couldn’t have regularly during the season. One time you went out for dumplings, soup dumplings to be specific. Lance knew this great place for dumplings in Montréal. Celebrating his wins were always the best. You smiled and laughed a lot together and on nights like this, where everything was perfect, you didn’t want it to stop.

„Darling, you’re making a mess“, you laughed and looked at your boyfriend. He was trying to eat the dumpling in one go, but the dumpling exploded and the hot soup burnt his mouth, which led to him having soup dripping down his chin. He just smiled at you, ignoring the burning sensation on his face or all the looks he was receiving from the other guests. With you by his side, everything was okay.

„I don’t care, it’s delicious“, he smiled and looked at you. „Do you think we could go to the parc afterwards?“ He was looking at you with hopeful eyes. This was the other ritual you had; playgrounds were there to be played with and if Max felt like playing, you two played. And that’s what you did.

You two sat on the swings, giggling and laughing together. Max was feeling free, free from the pressure and free from anything negative. He was feeling just you and the wind in his face. Everything felt like it was perfect.

And when he won his second championship that year, you didn’t go out to party. Max took you by your hand and pulled you towards the nearest ice cream place, where he ordered himself the biggest sundae they had. You had laughed when he looked at you and asked what you wanted. You thought he was ordering for you two, but turns out, he wanted that ice cream all for himself. You simply took some ice cream in a cone and told Max, you’d eat the rest of his sundae. „I will finish this, believe me“, he told you. He infact did not finish it.

Max was your greatest gift that kept on giving. Healing his trauma was just one way of showing him how much you loved him. He appreciated it and after a while he felt like a little child who had the best childhood. You two had a relationship that wasn’t unusual, helping each other and being there was normal. And Max was definitely glad to have you by his side.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313

#f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x f!reader #angst with a happy ending #jos verstappen #red bull racing #red bull f1 #childhood trauma

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luckykiwiii101 · 4 months

Note

OMGG! FINALLY I ENTERED VOID!!!!

SO firstly you're literally besttttt person on Tumblr😭💗. I was trying to enter void since days and always fall asleep until today!.

So I was sick physical and mentally and my exam were going on and not fluently Or something but i always been student who is Mischievous but still get highest score and complete assignment on time so as I said I was sick and I didn't gave assignment of one subject and that teacher came into exam Hall where I was literally dying while writing paper and she announced names of student who didn't gave assignment and she just announced other name but when she took my name she said I didn't expected this from and you took advantage of been A+ scoring student.... I mean wtfff I was sick but still she taunted been infront of 200 students 🙃... And I was highly embarrassed and angry that why my life is like this and made intention that I will change my life and I was following you from past month and saw your different technique and post including distraction technique but I always fall asleep when I try same goes for last night but today afternoon I was sitting and thinking and I thought "you know what fuck it.... I'm going to enter void no matter what! And as no one was home so it was easier for me to concrete and i tried your distraction technique and i feel dumb and stupid not trying this before like whyyyy... I enter void like in 10 or 20 mins! I counted 100 -0 and back from 0 to 100 then I tried technique and I tapped into void...... Your technique is literally godsent ❣️ . I didn't manifested anything because I forgot 🥲 I was absorbed in peace and relax feeling you get into void.... But I will get into void tonight and manifest everything deserve!

Sorry if you feel i Over shared i wasn't able to contain my excitement and sorry if my English feels wrong it's not my first language. And can you suggest how not to fall asleep I want to enter void through awake method how I did today afternoon.... But in night I feel sleepy and in afternoon I have classes

And again hands down you are bestttt bestt person out here!💗

OMG CONGRATS LOVE 😭💗💗💗 You did not overshare at all! Your english is also good.

Yo not fall asleep, get into a position that you are comfortable in but will not fall asleep it. Don’t get into a position that you usually fall asleep in.

Now GET IN THERE and manifest the life of your dreams 😭💓💓💓

#void state #void #void success #void success story #void state success stories #void state success story #the void state

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syoddeye · 14 days

Text

more reading recs

because one post isn't enough. we are hashtag blessed with fic.

as requested, i've highlighted fics with noncon and/or dubcon elements in orange. beyond that, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.

pairings are indicated, although these may change or may not be established yet.

there is no method to this madness, no specific order. these are listed here as my brain remembered them.

i've checked all the links maybe three times, if they're broken, i blame tumblr's formatting.

without further ado...

Slasher Handler by @dragonnarrative-writes - Ghost x Reader

"Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!" Another fantastically written Simon, with wonderful dashes of Gaz and Price. It's put the term 'romance knives' in my vocabulary. There are many quotable bits and moments that made my blood run cold with how normal the ~situation~ feels, but everything has to be experienced firsthand.

The Far Shore by @deadbranch - Soap x Reader

DB's fic collection is rich, and The Far Shore is no different. I fucking loved Pacific Rim, so when I saw her first mention a PR AU, I did imaginary backflips. DB's Readers are some of my favorites because of how complex and realistic they feel, and when combined with the visceral depth of the neural handshake AND Soap? Compelling. The dynamic between them is fascinating. I almost can't wait for it to be finished so I can go back and dissect it.

Falling into Place by @mortuarywriting

Morg's brought the first COD Isekai AU I've read, like a little treat, with A/B/O to boot. The first chapter hooked me and cracked me up. Their dialogue reads so well, it truly feels like I got sucked into the universe. The panicked ramblings, the over-explanation, the 'oh shit, we don't even have a shared cultural touchstone' moments. I cannot wait for more.

Carvings by @femalefemur - Price x Reader

Cyn's got this amazing thing going on called 'Top Quality Worms' where she takes me by the hand and leads me down a rabbit hole I didn't know I'd find so cozy. Carvings is one piece from her incredible list, featuring a bloody, possessive Captain Price. Somehow, out of this entire piece, Price snapping a pen really did it for me. Did someone say loss of control? Oh no, not my kryptonite!

Under Your Spell by @groguspicklejar - Gaz x Reader x Soap

This fic had me at the pairing tag. Lured me right in. No hope for me, and I'm not mad about it. The way Gaz and Soap play off of each other in Under Your Spell is spine-tingling in more ways than one. The definition of scaroused. Kelsi writes a wonderful Gaz. The first two paragraphs in part two, Split My Skin, describe him perfectly to me.

Chokehold by @ccrites - Soap x Reader

Chokehold is a chef's kiss read. Starts off as a cute and sweet gym read, and uh, well, it does get sweeter, in a way. Without spoiling anything, there is a brief cab ride that made me take a lap before things got really going for Reader. CC's Soap is a delightful tease that is tender all at the same time. I'd join his gym in a heartbeat.

Knight/Princess AU by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - Price x Reader

I've read and re-read this AU series a dozen times. It's so gd cute, I might need to see the dentist about how it's rotting my teeth. Seriously, it makes ME want to be a princess. Specifically Price's princess. Bear writes such a sweet and gruff Price, catch me holding a hand over my heart and just sighing. I'm also a big fan of multiple POVs and the insight into each character.

Martyr in the Making by @eilidh-eternal - Ghost x Reader

I had a tattoo touch-up the other day, and while waiting, I thought about this fic: the dream and nightmare of being tattooed by Simon and the rest of the 141. It's a dream for obvious reasons (probably unhealthy for me) and a nightmare because of, well, you'll have to read the story. Getting a tattoo can be such an intimate experience. You put yourself into someone's care and get something permanently etched onto your body. When Reader sits for Simon, you're right there with her, the two of you on an altar.

Liquid Smooth by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Bodyguard!Gaz save me, save me, bodyguard!Gaz. Ugh, Gaz is fucking incredible in every flavor, but there is something that hits different about the guy when he's flexing those 'VIP protection' skills. There are several tiny moments in Liquid Smooth that made me audibly whisper, "God, I wish that were me." If you have a conifer tree allergy, you might not be able to handle the god-tier pining. (I'll see myself out.)

pornstar!Gaz by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Gotta include the series that I drop everything for whenever I see an update. Another fantastic depiction of best man Kyle Gaz Garrick. The charm, the jealousy, the care...My personal favorite installments are Whispers and Threesomes.

plus size puppygirl!reader / Simon & Reader / Punishment by @secretsynthetic - Price x Reader x Ghost

Ghost gets his Captain a puppy, and Synth gives us a tasty Price x Reader x Ghost story. I've linked the intro and a Simon x Reader snippet, but my personal favorite is Punishment. Punishment is a deeper dive into Price the disciplinarian: "how the hell do i get a mutt like you to fuckin’ listen?" I'd gush about it, but again, this is another one to read and experience firsthand. One of my favorite recent explorations of a PriceGhost dynamic.

i'll probably cobble another one of these together in may 2024. my fic backlog is something else. i blame it on all the massive talent. mwah.

#sy fic recs #fic recs #i am a deeply corny person so we're gonna roll with my bad jokes and declarations of love and admiration if that's cool #if there's a typo i'm going to lose it #authors if i've mislabeled please let me know!!#dropping this like a bird at the door and skittering

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filmofhybe · 6 months

Text

when enhypen sees a beautiful fan ( hyung - line )

pairing -enhypen hyung line ! x reader genre -idol! x fan! , fluff warning - none 400-450 words per member

> masterlist of my other works

> maknae line

희 승 heeseung

He saw you at those idol and fan interviews if ykyk

but if you dk is basically an idol and fan bonding and talking to each other, sometimes doing some activities

you were a famous gardener (among the engene fandom) and you thought it was just a normal interview with a company

But than your bias heeseung walked in.

You were shocked like you froze and than you greeted him with a bow.

But heeseung on the other hand.

BRO WAS WHIPPED. He did not know he was going to learn how to arranging a flower bouquet WITH such a pretty girl

And the fact he knew your bias was him, his heart was going 60 mph💀

The interview as well as the interaction was so calm

He would ask you lots of questions which made you blush

“How old are you?”

“What made you interested into gardening?”

“ I saw lots of engenes bring flowers from you to our fansigns. Is that true?”

Sometimes even look at you when you were focusing

The director and producers (basically everyone) was literally giggling behind the scene

After he finished arranging his flower bouquet, which he was so happy about he GAVE IT TO YOU.

“Your as pretty as these flowers.” He wasn’t lying though.

You giggled thanking him before waving bye to the camera.

everyone behind the scene was watching a live kdrama.

You guys took pictures together WITH HIS ARMS AROUND YOU and cute Polaroids for Instagram

You guys looked like a couple🤭

When the interview dropped. Everyone was freaking out and posting about it

“Luckiest engene out there.” “I see why he would like her.” “IDK IF I WANT TO BE Y/N OR HEESEUNG?!?” “Heeseung move is my turn with y/n”

Your business was so successful after that interview

Heeseung will secretly ordering a flower bouquet from you and gifting it to you cuz man was in love😞

박종성 Park Jeongseong

You know that one en’o’clock episode where enhypen was working at a café

that’s where this is gonna base on

You and your friend didn’t know enhypen was gonna be there AT ALL

so when you walked in and saw cameras everywhere it caught you off guard

But what you caught off guard the most was in front of you were enhypen.

Your friend was freaking out but calmed down after sitting down.

She was too shy to go up and order so you peer pressured you into it instead

You walked up the the cashier and jay was right there

When he saw you, bro was stunned by your beauty

Bout to risk it all for you😭

“H-hi can I please have uh green tea mocha and ice americano with strawberry shortcake and carbonara plea-please?” Bro you were stuttering cuz your bias is right in front of you. Like I would too.

He smiled at how cute your voice was like he was down bad

“ of course that would be 245,000 won please” you tapped your credit card WITH HIS PC covering the credit card on the card reader.

He saw. And bro was about to faint. WDYM a pretty girl like you is a fan of him?

“I love the pc by the way.” He smirked hoping to catch your attention

“Oh-oh thank you haha..” you were embarrassed for sure but you were glad he talked to you

“thank you for supporting me beautiful.” HE DID IT. THE MIC PICKED IT UP AS WELL. EVERYONE HEARD.

Bro your legs was giving up after that and you can’t even speak

Decided to deliver the food to your table and wrote his number on the napkin.

Again he was not slick about it cuz fans saw the black marker stain on the napkin on the video.

And the way he stared at you when you were ordering

Calling you BEAUTIFUL AS WELL

I want to be you so bad rn.

He was just so happy he met you and didn’t care about how his members was literally teasing him after you left the café that day.

심재윤 Sim Jaeyun

the type to flirt with everyone during fansign.

But when you arrived, he lost it.

HE COULDNT EVEN FLIRT WITH YOU

cuz you were that gorgeous it made his mind blank.

“Hi Jake how are you?” Bye. His heart full on stopped. He would listen to your voice every single day if he could.

“I’m-im doing well how about you?” He was trying so hard to maintain eye contact with you. Cause you looked like a Angel sent from heaven. (you are :p )

“I’m good! I Hope you enjoy the gift I gave you!” You flashes the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

He didn’t even realize the gift you put on the table for him cuz he was that mesmerized by your beauty

When he saw what you got him ( fifa 24 ) a card and a gorgeous necklace from his favorite brand

He fell in love. He was about to risk it all for you.

I don’t make the rules cuz man was trying so hard to get his hands on that game and than a beautiful engene just gifted him it? And the necklace? Just wait until he wears it every time on stage as his lucky charm.

“Oh my gosh thank you so much!” He was as happy as a child on Christmas Day. If only you were his he would’ve gave you the biggest smooch on the spot.

“Your welcome!! I’ll always gift you things you love!” You were happy he loved his gift. You don’t even know your bias jake, that’s in front of you rn has a massive crush on you.

He than held your hand while talking to you and asking questions. He was literally admiring you while rubbing your hands.

When is time for you to move to the next member. He didn’t want to let go of you.

Like he held onto your hand while you stand up

But the staff have to separate the both of you sadly which made him so depressed

but guess what. He wrote his number in your album. So you can text him.

That’s so fantasy but like HE WOULD

Fans at the fansign saw both of your interaction and was so jealous of how he looked at you.

The interaction was all over Twitter

“Ugh how do I be her?”

“HE DID THE RUBBING HAND THING!!”

“Stop she must be so pretty to get JAKE to stare at her like that”

“Bro was about to RISK IT ALL FOR HER😞.”

“He probably gave his number to her as well.”

“Jake I am not your strongest soldier”

BLAH BLAH BLAH ETC.

I mean everyone wants Jake to look at them with so much love in his eyes right?

성훈 Sunghoon

idk if anyone knows this but like idols would visit a bunch of girls in a company and they will take a group pic with the idol. (The girls around him would go crazy ykyk)

Bro let me tell you everyone in your company was looking forward to seeing him

You were chose to sit RIGHT BESIDE HIM LIKE YOU WERE GOING INSANE

I’m not even joking everyone was so jealous of the girls who were going to sit beside him

Especially you cuz they know how pretty you are

When sunghoon walked in, he greeted everyone politely

The girls was squeaking from excitement

When sunghoon sat beside you and looked over him

He saw you. A LITERALLY GODDESS.

He was im shock. Like his mouth literally opened a bit.

You greeted him with a smile but your heart was beating so fast

Your bias is sat right beside you rn.

Girls around him was tryna get his attention but later on realized he kept staring at you

Icl they gave up atp

But after he took a group picture with you guys

He sat there just processing the fact such a beautiful girl is sat beside him

Like he couldn’t believe it

All the girls was dismissed back to work after the picture and when you were about to leave

He handed you his BUSINESS CARD WITH HIS NUMBER ON IT

And let me tell you bro doesn’t do this unless is with some professionals

Like you hit the jackpot

Girls in your company was talking about how he was staring with you and how you were so stubborn to even realize it

“I want to be y/n so bad like the way he was staring at her ugh!!”

When the video of him visiting dropped fans of him was also going insane about you two

Saying how your so pretty and hope there’s more interaction between you both

How he should’ve bagged you before he left

a/n: maknae line will be out tmr!!

taglist : @surefornext @skepvids @spilled-coffee-cup

comment or reblog to be on the taglist :)

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year

Text

His Queen

Summary: I made this because of a tumblr post about Sandor being with Joffrey's wife and they get together and he's soft with her and she has his baby. I don't recall the name of the post but I wrote something like that but with my own twist. Enjoy.

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You were visiting King's Landing when Sandor met you. At first he thought nothing of it, many highborns came to visit King's Landing all the time. He followed you and Joffrey around since he was Joffrey's guard. Sandor wouldn't forget the day when you came to King's Landing. You wore a gown showing your curves, hair was brushed and braided. He kept staring at the yellow ribbon you had tied around your hair as he followed behind. Sandor knew you were different from the rest who visited King's Landing. You were sweet to everyone, to the servants and to the people. He had even caught you visiting the orphanage and to the sept.

Sandor had seen women throw themselves to the blonde king but for the first time Joffrey was throwing himself at you. Few days later, King Joffrey asked for your hand in marriage. His mother was overjoyed that her son was marrying you, the princess of a wealthy king from beyond west of Westeros. Sandor wondered if everyone from west of Westeros was nice like you.

You gave everyone a smile, even to him. Sandor couldn't help but stare at you when Joffrey introduced you to him.

"He's my dog." Joffrey told you. Sandor saw your pretty face frown as you tilted your head to the side.

"What?" You asked, looking between Joffrey and Sandor.

"My princess, he's my dog. Sandor Clegane. My loyal dog." Joffrey said with a chuckle. You didn't chuckle or even laugh.

Joffrey was about to say something when Mery Trant came and asked for a moment with him. The king excused himself and walked away leaving Sandor with you alone.

Sandor watched as you looked over your shoulder at Joffrey then looked back at him with a smile.

"I do hope you'll be loyal to me as well, Sandor." You said, making him nod.

"Aye, you are to be my queen and I'll be your loyal dog." He told you emphasizing the word, dog just like Joffrey did.

"You know." You told him as you walked closer to him, looking up at him as you held your hands in front of you.

"I adore dogs but you, Sandor Clegane, aren't one." Sandor looked away from your gaze and stared down at the cobblestone. You looked at him with no fear or disgust. He didn't know how to feel about it.

"Shall we?" He heard Joffrey ask when he came back. Sandor looked ahead when you walked away leaving him behind. He saw you and Joffrey sharing a laugh as he offered you his arm to hold on.

It wasn't long before the wedding was held. It was the biggest wedding ever held in Westeros since the people of King's Landing liked their soon to be queen. Sandor had to admit you were a people person. You actually helped the people in your time in King's Landing. You reminded him of Margaery Tyrell, he hoped you didn't end up like her though. The girl was Joffrey's first wife but was poisoned on the day of their wedding feast.

They never found out who did it. It was a mystery to most, not to him though. Sandor knew who did it. Margaery got into Cersei, Joffrey's mother's bad side.

A month after the wedding, Joffrey had to leave King's Landing to deal with another house that required his presence. You had asked Joffrey to leave Sandor with you. You had batted your eyelashes at him and gave him a kiss when he accepted.

"Well, if my queen asks for the dog then so be it." Joffrey said.

Sandor was in disbelief when Joffrey had told him to stay behind and look after you.

"Keep a close eye on the queen, dog. I don't want anyone near her while I'm gone." Joffrey told him before leaving King's Landing. Sandor walked back inside the castle and was told you were in your room getting ready for supper.

Sandor made his way to your chambers. He can hear light chattering from the outside. He looked inside and saw you were standing in the middle of the room as your handmaidens surrounded you. You held your arms out as they did the last finishing touches of your dress and put on your accessories. With one hand you held a scroll, reading it silently as one of them slid the golden rings on your fingers on the other hand.

He didn't say anything, he didn't have to because you felt him staring. You looked towards the doorway and gave him a smile. He doesn't think he'll ever get over the sight of you smiling at him. It was a genuine smile you gave him, it had to be because no one ever smiled at him.

"I'll be having supper in the gardens today. Set a plate for Sandor. He'll be joining me." You told one of your maids as you walked away to put the scroll down.

"Leave us." You commanded the rest, Sandor moved out of the doorway for the flock of women leaving your chambers. He ignored the looks that the women gave him as they left him alone with you.

"Come in and shut the door." You told Sandor. He obeyed and walked inside, shutting the door behind him. He watched as you opened the door of the balcony. For the first time the smell of shit was gone and fresh air came breezing in the room. It was one of the things you got rid of, the waste.

"Joffrey was nicely enough to give you to me during his absence." You said walking to the small table of beverages. You grabbed a pitcher of wine and poured it into a goblet.

"Aye. I'm here to protect you. To look after you." He told you as you walked towards him with two goblets of wine. You passed him one.

"Why?" He asked, looking down at you. He wanted to know why Joffrey left him to care for you. He was Joffrey’s guard not yours.

"What do you mean? Why?" You asked, taking a sip of the wine.

When Sandor didn't respond, you gently pushed the goblet towards his mouth. "Drink." You told him and he did, he wasn't going to say no to fancy wine.

Later that day, Sandor sat across from you during supper. He had to admit, supper was good. You had told the cook to make chicken, roasted potatoes and vegetables. Bread was served along with different types of cheeses. Sandor ate his chicken as you ate different types of berries with cheese. Light conversations were made and while the wine was kept serving to him and you. Sandor was in a good mood. He even made a few jokes, earning a few hearty laughs from you.

"Was supper to your liking?" You asked Sandor. After supper, he was escorting you back to your chambers. You walked next to him instead of in front of him, Sandor had noticed it a while back. You never walked in front of him whenever he was with you alone. You liked being next to him. You had even grabbed onto his arm while walking at one point.

"Aye, never thought I would eat with the queen." Sandor said, making you chuckle.

"We should make it a regular thing when Joffrey isn't here." You told as you side-eye him.

"When he comes back, he will have you all to himself. I'll be sad because we won't spend time together." Sandor stops in mid step at your words. You had stopped as well when you noticed Sandor wasn't walking next to you. You turned around to see him staring at you.

"It's true. I only see my husband during the morning then when eating then late at night when he is done torturing his whores." Sandor felt his mouth go dry.

"I know about it." He let out a deep breath. "I'm not stupid, Sandor." He knows that now, you aren't dumb as Joffrey likes to think.

You walked closer to Sandor, you were so close to him that he could smell the light scent of lavender soap still lingering on your skin. He could see every beauty mark on your face, every eyelash around your pretty eyes.

"Honestly, I don't give a shit. He can do whatever he wants. Joffrey has never hurt me like the whores but his words can be cruel." You told him as you looked at his white cloak hanging behind his back.

You saw the blood and dirt stains on the cloak, you reached forward to grab it. Feeling the fabric and the dried blood on it. You remember his words when he told you why he hadn't taken the knight's vows during supper.

"Be glad it's just words, my queen." Sandor told you softly.

Sandor knew what you meant. He never saw Joffrey lay a hand on you but he did hurt you with words. He would call you stupid for loving the ungrateful people of King's Landing. Joffrey would undermine you and intimidate you. Sandor can only imagine how Joffrey acts towards you when he wasn't there.

"Words can hurt, Sandor." You told him as you let go of his cloak and touched his chest, your fingers tracing the chest plate of his armor.

"Aye." Sandor agreed with you with a small nod. He knows all too well of it. He has grown immune to the cruel words said to him. Words like monster, ugly, evil, and dog.

"If I ask you something. Will you do it for me?" You asked him as you removed your hand from his chest.

"Anything." Sandor responded. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Not a soul." He said.

"Come to my chambers tonight. Don't let anyone see you." You told him. You didn't wait for his response. You turned around and continued to walk. Sandor watched as you walked down the hall then entered into your chambers.

It was late at night when Sandor released the knight guarding the hallway. Making sure the knight was out of his sight, Sandor walked towards your chambers. Sandor thought it was a joke when you told him to meet you at night. Perhaps you were waiting for him to come and laugh at his face.

He saw the door was slightly open, he slowly pushed the door open trying to not make a sound and looked inside. He saw you there, sitting on an armchair near the balcony. Candles were lit around you, providing you light as you held a book in your hand. Your hair was down and slightly wavy from the braid you wore earlier. His eyes widened at the red and golden robe you wore, it wasn't fully closed. He can see the valley between your breasts, that’s where a gold necklace laid.

He cleared his throat loudly making you look up from your book.

"You came." You said shutting the book.

"I did." Sandor said, walking inside and closing the door.

"The lock." You pointed up at the metal lock above the door. Sandor locked the door, giving it a pull to make sure it was properly locked and looked back at you.

"Do you read, Sandor?" You asked him as you placed the book next to you. He shook his head.

"Can you read?" Sandor nodded at you. "Aye, I spent a lot of time reading when I was younger."

"Why did you stop?" You asked.

"After I was burned I didn't want to go outside. So I just read to pass the time. As I got older I didn't give a shit anymore of what people would say about my appearance." Sandor said.

"Did you trip when you were young? How did it happen?" You asked as you got up from the couch. When Sandor didn't say anything you were about to walk towards him and ask for forgiveness when he spoke.

"My brother pushed me. I was playing with one of his toys. He thought I was stealing it but I was just playing with it. He got angry and held me down as he pushed my face against the fire." You stood still at his words. You clenched your hands in rage at his brother.

"It took three men to take him off of me." Sandor said softly while shaking his head as he remembered.

You have seen ser Gregor Clegane before and understood why he was called The Mountain. He was taller than Sandor. He frightens you especially with the stories you heard about him but Sandor didn't frighten you at all.

You walked closer to him looking up to his face as you stood in front of him.

There it was again, Sandor thought. You looked at him with no fear. He didn't understand the look you gave him. You had a look in your eyes that he had never seen before.

"What do you want, my queen?" Sandor asked. He wanted to know why you were being so nice to him and why you had taken such interest in him.

"I want you." Sandor's eyes widened at your answer. He was about to step back when you grabbed his hand. He looked down at your hands. Your hands were so different from his. Yours were small and smooth while his were large and covered with scars along with calluses.

"Is this some fucking joke?!" He hissed at you pulling his hand away.

"Why do you think it's a joke?" You asked him.

"Look at me!" He told you as his gaze at you darken.

"I'm a dog. A nobody." You frowned at his words.

"I want you, Sandor." You told him firmly trying to get a hold of his hand again.

Sandor shook his head and turned around to unlock the door but you stopped him. You quickly leaned against the door, pushing yourself in front of him.

"It's not a lie." When Sandor didn't say anything you continued to speak.

"Do you really think Joffrey wanted you to stayed? I asked him for you. I wanted you here, I wanted some time alone with you."

Sandor let out a deep breath. "Why do you think I asked you to come here tonight? I have been here for almost two months and I haven't met anyone like you before. Everyone sees you as a mean person and a killer but I don't. You are so much more."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You have been drinking too much wine." Sandor told you, trying to find any excuse to go away.

"Really?!" You yelled at him.

"You know, I have learned that a certain person has been donating to the orphanage." Sandor looked away from you.

"They told me it was you." You said as you grabbed his arm.

"No knights have this before. Sandor is good but misunderstood." You repeated the words that the elderly keeper told you on your last visit to the orphanage.

"A few pieces of silver means nothing." Sandor mumbled to you.

"It means something especially to those children that have nothing." You told him.

Sandor didn't think anything of it. It is just a small amount that he donates. Sandor wasn't rich but he had money from being Joffrey's kingsguard. He didn't tell you that it was because of you that he donated.

He was there when you spoke to Joffrey and to the council about the orphanage. You didn't give up your cause even when Joffrey laughed at the thought of helping them but his council sided with you after your speech of helping them and giving them resources.

"Those children can grow up being something bigger. They can be knights, servants, blacksmiths, farmers and maesters." Sandor watched as you smiled when the council decided something will be done.

"I want you. The question is, do you want me as I want you?" Sandor finally looked at you.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. For the first time in his life a woman wanted him but you weren't just any woman, you were the queen.

"Do you find me pretty?" You asked Sandor as dread filled your stomach perhaps he didn't find you attractive. He quickly nodded his head.

"Beautiful." Sandor told you as you grabbed his hand.

"I think of your hands at night." You told Sandor, bringing his large hand up to your face.

"When I'm with him, all I think about is you." Sandor moved his hand to your face, cupping your cheek.

"Do you want me as I want you?" You asked him again.

"Only a fool will say no to you, my queen." Sandor responded.

"Call me Y/n." You told him as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek. You have been wondering for so long how his hands and mouth would feel on you.

"Y/n." He whispered your name. You pushed against him as you looked up at him. You smiled at him, it seems unreal. He was the first person in this kingdom to say your name.

"Kiss me." You told him.

Sandor leaned down to kiss you. He kissed with caution at first pressing his lips against yours. You wanted more, you pulled him down to wrap your arms around his neck to get him closer to you. He kissed you again and you whined when he held on to your hips, his large hands gripping the robe you wore tight as you opened your mouth to him. You teased his tongue with yours, feeling giddy inside when you heard him whine in your mouth. You pulled away from his lips giving him a smile.

"I have been wanting to do that for a while." You whispered to him.

"You're crazy for wanting me." He told you, shaking his head.

"Aye, absolutely crazy for you." You grinned at him, making him laugh out of disbelief.

You looked down at your robe, you slowly untied the belt from your robe. Sandor held his breath as you took your robe off.

You stood in front of him naked. "Join me in bed." You told him, leaving him by the door. He looked over his shoulder as he saw you walking to the large bed. He stared at your bare ass and bare legs. He quickly followed you as he started to remove his armor.

Sandor has had sex before, he was no virgin. He always paid for a fuck. It was always for his pleasure only not really caring for the other but now he was feeling nervous, he wanted to make you feel good.

Sandor knew he was a big man with a big body. Sometimes the whores will be too anxious to be with him. He was nervous that you would reject him once you saw him naked.

Unknown to Sandor, you were practically salivating at the sight of his bare chest and arms. Sandor was toned and his upper body was covered with thick dark hairs. His shoulders were broad. His arms flexed when he threw his tunic over his shoulder as he walked towards the bed.

As he got closer to you, you touched his chest. He was warm and his chest hair was soft. You can feel the scars on his chest and stomach. You felt him tense up when you touched his stomach. Playing with the hair of his happy trail for a moment before your hands continue going down.

"You're so big." You told him as you felt him through his trousers. Sandor stared down at you as you cupped his cock.

"Come here." He said before picking you up and dropping you on the bed. He pushed his pants off while getting on top of you. His lips attacked your neck, you let out a giggle as his beard tickled you.

"Sandor." You cried out as he kissed down to your chest. His large hand cupped your left breast squeezing it, his thumb rubbing your tit as he suckled on the right.

You spread your legs wider for his frame, Sandor was huge and you loved it. He hovered over you as he fondled your breasts. He gives a big lick on your hard nipple before looking at you.

You brought your hand to his face, tucking a strand of his brown hair over his ear.

"Let me taste this cunt?." He asks you as he brings his hand to your cunt. You nodded at him as his middle finger drags up and down your slit. He hums to himself when he notices you're wet dripping on sheets of the bed.

"Please." You cry to him when his finger hits your clit. Sandor was quick as he got further down to face your cunt.

You smell so good to him. His tongue licks on your slit as his nose rubs against your clit. He parts your puffy lips so he can tongue your sloppy hole.

"Sandor! Fuck!" You cry out as he eats you out then start to finger you while sucking your clit.

"Fucking tight." Sandor tells you as he looks at you. You were watching him as he played with your cunt. Two thick fingers rubbing the spongy spot inside of you, his thumb rubbing your clit. No one has ever made you feel this way before.

"He made you cum before?" You shook his head when you let out a moan when Sandor started to finger you quicker and faster. Joffrey hasn't even come close to it. He grins to himself when he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers.

He thinks he'll cum as well just by looking at your pretty cunt and the sound of your moans as you came on his fingers. He plays with your cunt softly knowing you're sensitive from your orgasm. He pulls his two fingers out of you, they are wet and coated with your cum, he greedily sucks them. Savoring your cum, it's better than ale, he tells himself.

"I'll make you cum again, Y/n. I'm gonna ruin you if I fuck you." He tells you, leaning down to kiss your mound.

"Ruin me." You beg him as you look at him. He gives your cunt another kiss before kissing your stomach then your chest again as he positions himself between your legs.

Sandor can't help himself but drag his cock against your wet slit. You moaned at the sight of his cock in his hand. His cock was thick, his head was red and fat. You watched as he softly nudged your lips apart with the head of his cock. The head of his cock gathers your wetness so he can slide into you with ease.

He glances at you for a second looking for consent to continue. You nodded at him. You couldn't help but whine as he slid into you. You felt so full, Sandor can feel you clench around him.

"Fuck me." You beg him.

Sandor moans as he slams into you. His arms shook as he gripped the edge of the bed holding himself up. His thrusts was rough, he kept staring as you threw your head back to moan. Your tits bouncing with every thrusts.

"Fuck." He groans out loud. Sandor felt his chest tighten at the sight of you. He can smell your cunt on his beard making him grunt like a wild man.

He lets out a moan as he looks down between both of you. Cunt spread open on his cock, you were mewling as he pushed deeper into you. Sandor felt your hands on his shoulders, pulling him to get close to you. Sandor feels your breasts against his chest as he cages your head with his arms.

He calls you his pretty lady, his pretty queen as he fucks you. The slick sound of his fat cock dragging out and inside of your wet cunt can be heard. You cried when you felt his lips on your cheek pressing wet kisses all the way down your neck as you held him.

"I'm going to cum, Y/n." Sandor whines to you as he was about to get up to cum outside of you but you held him closer. You wanted him to cum inside of you, deep inside of you.

"Cum in me. Please Sandor." You whispered to him. He let out a moan, he hides his face against your neck as he starts to fuck you harder. His harsh thrusts made you cry out as you felt him go deeper, you can feel him in your stomach. Sandor had to bite down on his bottom lip as he felt you cum around his cock.

Sandor grunted loudly as he cums inside of you. You welcomed him as he laid on you, enjoying the feeling of him on you, the warmth and the weight of his body. Your fingertips gliding up and down on his back. You felt him moan as he pushed himself up softly, looking down at you, he kissed him. Both of you knew at that moment, you wouldn't be able to stay away from each other.

Joffrey returned the following week, much to your dislike you couldn't speak to Sandor as much. You both knew the risks of someone finding out you were having an affair with him. That didn't stop both of you from giving each other looks and touches.

The only time you would have for each other was when occupying the library, the library was a large room in the basement of the castle. You spend your days there when you have finished with your duties. You usually were there reading while waiting for Sandor. He will come in an hour later after you. He was always looking out, making sure no one was around the library. He will get inside and quickly find you hiding in the back. Sweet and gentle kisses Sandor gave you every time, he was always gentle with you. His large hands cupped your face as he kissed you. Sandor will push you against the bookshelves and go down on his knees, he was always in need to taste you. You would moan when you feel him go under your gown, he puts a leg over his shoulder as he makes you cum on his tongue.

His low moans and whines can be heard when you are between his legs sucking his cock. He will groan when you start to gag on his cock while playing his balls. He can't help himself but cum inside your mouth, especially when he sees you staring up at him with doe eyes. Head bobbing up and down on his shaft, the golden crown on your head wouldn't even budge.

The small loveseat in the library would creak as you rode him. One of his hands held your hips while you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. Sandor and you would finish wrapped around each other and when he finally allowed you to kiss his burned cheek. You didn't pry when you saw him tearing up whenever you kissed his scared cheek. You whispered to him about wanting him, loving him and thanking the new and old gods for having him in your life.

It was a few months when a tournament on King Joffrey's name day was being held. You sat next to Joffrey as he drank his wine and shouted profanity at the players. You were starting to feel unwell. You have been so nauseous lately. You were getting worried. Some days you would wake up throwing up and the heat wasn't helping. The tournament was held on the eastern wall of the Red Keep, you ignored the smell of the ocean. You looked away as the knights fought a few feet away from you. You didn't notice Sandor staring at you as he stood near Joffrey. He saw you placing a hand over your mouth and started to shift in your seat.

He looked away when Joffrey called for him; it was his turn to fight. He grabbed his helmet and walked to the floor. He wasn't nervous, he has done this many times before. As he hits his opponent with his sword, he can see you in the background getting up from your seat. He let out a grunt as the opponent hit back but Sandor was much stronger and quicker. He defended himself and pushed his opponent off the ledge of the building.

Joffrey leaped out of his seat in joy as he ran to the ledge to see the other men on the ground. After calling Sandor a good dog, Joffrey claps. Everyone joined as Sandor took his helmet off, he looked over at you but you weren't there. You were gone along with your handmaidens. Sandor kept looking but saw his older brother's piercing black eyes staring at him with a frown. Sandor looked away and walked back to his post, next to the King.

It was later that Sandor found out why you were gone. You came back when the feast for Joffrey's name day started. Joffrey got up from his seat and cleared his throat.

"I have an announcement to make. It brings great joy to tell you. Your queen, my wife is pregnant. She has provided me with an heir!"

Sandor looked over at you but you just kept staring up at Joffrey with a smile; it was a fake smile. Sandor knew you were faking it since your eyes were dull. He watched as Cersei gave you a hug and congratulated you as well as her children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sandor stood in the middle of the garden at night watching his surroundings. He saw a single candlelight lit from your balcony. That was a sign from you, to meet you in the gardens.

He heard light footsteps coming near him. He turned around when he heard it getting closer. He saw you wearing a black hooded cape.

"Sandor!" You cried out running to him. Sandor hugged you tight.

"I'm with child." You sobbed into his chest as he rubbed your back.

"It's alright. It's alright." He repeats gently, calming you down.

"The maesters said I'm about a month or so." You told him, looking up at him.

"Sandor, I have to tell you something." He frowned when you started to look around for a moment.

"When Joffrey returned to King's Landing. He became violent." Sandor grabbed your hand.

"In bed, he started to get angry when I wouldn't moan or move. He started to get aggressive. I was so scared." You whispered.

"I started putting a few drops of milk of the poppy in his drink before he would get to bed. Whenever he wanted to have sex, he couldn't perform. He would fall right to sleep before anything can happen."

"Has he been suspicious?" Sandor asked. You shook your head.

"I've been sleeping naked with him. I would take his clothes off as well." Sandor nodded, you have thought of everything.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked.

Sandor shook his head. "No but why didn't you tell me that fucking cunt was doing that?"

"You would have killed him." You told him. "Then they would kill you. I can't be without you. I can't raise our child without you."

Sandor hugged you tight, kissed your forehead and told you everything was going to be alright. He never thought he would have been a father, he honestly never wanted a child. Mostly because he never found a woman who wanted to be with him and have a family.

He was worried for you. He wouldn't always be there when Joffrey is with you. He hoped Joffrey wouldn't harm you since you're pregnant.

Pregnancy was something Sandor had never seen before first hand, he watched your body change completely and he loved it. He loved touching your swollen belly and breasts. He loved how sensitive you have gotten as well. Sandor thought you looked more beautiful. Your belly has grown so big during the months. Joffrey thought it was twins, the idea was rejected by the maesters. They told Joffrey they can only feel one baby, one very large baby.

You waddled everywhere you go. He wanted to carry you every time he saw you waddling around the castle. Whenever there was time to spend with you he would hold you, his large hands touching and rubbing your belly. His lips pressing against your bare shoulders.

"Sandor, if anything happens to me. Promise me you'll look after our child."

"What do you mean?" He asked you as he heard the tone of your voice change.

"If anything happens to me. Look after our child, teach them to be good. I know if Joffrey is in their life they would be cruel just like him" You told Sandor. You were between his legs, you back against his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

"Teach them to survive in this wicked world." You looked over your shoulder at Sandor.

"Don't let our child be like the rest of them." You cried out to him, Sandor was quick to comfort you.

"They won't be like them. I promise." He told you, feeling a tightness in his chest. He wouldn't let them be like his brother or Joffrey.

It was morning when he heard from a servant that you started to give birth. Sandor followed Joffrey down the hallway. He froze when he heard your screams.

Cersei was sitting outside the door with Myrcella. The young girl was in tears as she heard you crying and screaming while giving birth. Myrcella wanted to be there for you, she had come to love you very dearly since you became queen. You had become like an older sister to the young girl.

"All this screaming and crying. When will it be over?" Joffrey asked, looking irritated.

"Joffrey! She's giving birth. It can be hours, sometimes days." Cersei said. Joffrey rolled his eyes at her.

Sandor paled at the thought of you being in pain for so long.

"Ridiculous." Joffrey hiss then banged on the door.

Sandor walked closer to Joffrey when the door opened and the maester came out. Myrcella was the first to gasp at the sight of the maesters' bloody hands.

"How long?" Joffrey asked, ignoring the cries from inside or the maesters' blood stained hands.

Sandor looked inside the room. You were in a white gown, the gown was clung to your skin wet from your sweat. Two handmaidens were on either side of you, holding your hands as you pushed. He can hear encouraging words from the ladies.

Before the maesters could respond the handmaiden had called out to him to come inside. The door slammed shut before Joffrey could say anything else and your screams continued. A few minutes later your cries had stopped and a loud, strong cry was heard.

Leonidas Baratheon

Sandor watched as his son slept in his arms. The three of you were in the library together, Sandor was sitting on the loveseat as he held his son. You sat right next to him.

"He's so long." Sandor commented as he continued to look at his son.

"Aye, the maesters were right. He's going to be tall." You said as you watched Sandor with a smile. He hasn't taken his eyes off of him, it was Sandor first time meeting his son. After healing and everyone coming to see Leonidas, the heir to the iron throne. You finally had a chance to see Sandor again. His sweet praises filled you as he kissed you, "I'm proud of you. A boy, a son."

"I wish he would have had your last name." You told Sandor making him look up at you. He shook his head and looked back at his son with a sad face.

"No, it's a good thing he doesn't. Being a Clegane comes with a reputation." Sandor told you. He froze when Leonidas stretched his arms and dozed off again.

"I wish you wouldn't think like that. I would love to have your last name." You told him looking down at your lap.

"Look at me." Sandor said softly. You look over at him.

"You really are crazy, you know that." Sandor said jokingly, making you smile.

"Absolutely." You told him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Sandor would have loved that as well for you to have his last name but Sandor knew in this world, you don't always get what you want. He consider himself lucky. He felt lucky that you wanted him, to share a bed with him, to share a kiss with him. If this is all he could get from you. It's enough for him.

Leonidas grew up just as everyone expected him to be. You always were nervous whenever someone commented on his height or his hair. No one mentioned he wasn't blonde like his father. Everyone had said the child was an exact replica of Joffrey's father, Robert Baratheon who was tall and with dark hair.

Joffrey had his son's trained with the best knights when he was able to hold a sword. Joffrey had his son trained with the Clegane brothers. Leonidas asked his father to train with them and hunt with them. At a young age, Leonidas has felt at ease with the two most dangerous fighters in Westeros. It did raise concerns with the council and many people of King's Landing but as Leonidas grew, people in King's Landing saw him as a good prince unlike his father when he was younger. Leonidas was adored by the people and was always seen with his mother when visiting the orphanage.

Cersei was walking to her room when she passed by the training area being held in the courtyard, she stopped when she saw her grandson training. She got closer to see Leonidas, age 15 holding a sword. The teenager huffed as he blocked Gregor's heavy attack. She looked over at Sandor who watched them both attentively in the sidelines. He held a hand up to his mouth as he watched Leonidas dodging the attacks. His eyes were dark as Gregor was gaining the upper hand but Leonidas was quicker.

Cersei knew Leonidas couldn't be her real grandson. She always wondered where he got his looks and physique from. Cersei was about to leave when she saw movement from the second floor of the castle. She was surprised when she saw you. You were supposed to be bedridden since you were almost close to giving birth to your third child.

Cersei can see your smile widen as you place a hand on your stomach and look down. Cersei followed your gaze and frowned when she saw you smiling at Sandor.

Sandor has sensed your presence from above. He smiled up at you before looking back at his son. He let out a chuckle when Leonidas had pushed the sword of Gregor's hand.

"Well done." Gregor said before picking up his sword from the ground with a huff.

Gregor looked over his shoulder to see Leonidas had run up to Sandor. Gregor watched as Sandor gave a pat on Leonidas' back while telling him he did a good job. He saw Leonidas smile widely at Sandor's words. Gregor knew Sandor's praise meant everything to the young prince.

Gregor knew Leonidas wasn't Joffrey's son because every time he looked at the young prince all he saw was his younger brother, Sandor. No one knew what Sandor looked like when he was a boy before his face was burned but Gregor knew. Same brown eyes and hair along with the same smile.

Joanna Baratheon, was the second child of Joffrey and Y/n. Every time the young princess looked at Gregor. He saw the face of his dead little sister. Joanna is still young to know about him and what kind of person Gregor truly is. While others didn't even look at Gregor straight in the eyes, Joanna would give him a big smile whenever she saw him. Sometimes would wave at him whenever he was passing.

Gregor often would watch Leonidas and Joanna when they spent time together in the garden, Joanna would collect flowers while Leonidas would have a book on his lap, gifted by his uncle, Tyrion. Joanna would make flower crowns just like her aunt Marcella had shown her. Gregor would watch them for a few minutes behind the pillars of the castle. His dark eyes looked between the prince and the princess. Someday Gregor's eyes would play tricks on him and their faces would morph. Leonidas's left side of his face would be burned, Gregor can still recall the smell of burnt flesh after all these years. Joanna's small face will be pale as the snow, her brown eyes would be bulging out of her skull. Her neck will be black and blue, her small hands would be clawing at her neck. He would have to shut his eyes for a moment then when he opened the faces of his siblings were gone. The happy faces of his niece and nephew were back. He would always leave when his eyes got watery and a dreaded feeling in his chest started to rise.

Gregor knows he's filled with evil and hate. His thirst for blood and chaos is known but he doesn't know why when he looks at the prince and princess some unknown force calms him down for a second and he's filled with something else. He doesn't know what this feeling is, it's not hate and while he figures out that feeling he wouldn't tell a living soul that Sandor is the real father of Leonidas, Joanna and the babe growing inside of you. Gregor had already slit the throats of the people that were calling Leonidas and Joanna a bastard and their mother, you a whore in hushed whispers.

If you like to read more of His Queen, click below on the title to read.

His Queen: Nameday

#sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #games of thrones #games of thrones fanfiction #gregor clegane #joffrey baratheon #the hound #rory mccann #smut #we cheating #sandor clegane fanfic

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threewaywithdelusion · 10 months

Text

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.

Robin blushed.

Tammy turned back around.

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.

Robin sighed, loud and long.

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.

“Hi?” Robin answered.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked.

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.

That was fair. Robin was shocked too.

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.

Robin hated him.

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.

“It’s not about me,” Robin said.

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.

“I did,” she said.

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said.

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.

From there, they kept going around the circle.

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.

Then it was Tammy’s turn.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.

“Okay,” Tammy said.

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.

“Truth,” Robin said.

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.

Robin didn’t really believe it.

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.

She kind of wanted to know more about him.

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said.

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?”

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic

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cascade05 · 10 months

Text

So… when people go to Starbucks, they sometimes use celebrity names, right? I saw this post on Pinterest (one of those older Tumblr screenshots) and this person said their name was Tony Stark and they ran into someone who called themselves Bruce Wayne. So that happens, right?

Okay, so, imagine you're working as a barista at some place and you get so many people telling you their name is a pro hero name. The amount of Dekus you have served this week is off the charts and you had no idea Shoto could shape shift into forty different people. In all honesty, though, it's funny and kinda the highlight of your week.

This one day, someone comes in and they tell you there name is Dynamight. Not only does the shy smile on his face tell you, no, it's not Dynamight, but like literally everything else does too. Okay, normal. You place the order and then take the next person in line. This person is also Dynamight. This has happened before and, to prevent confusion, you dub this person Dynamight 1.

The next customer is a stoic man by the name David. The two of you connect eyes, both inwardly laughing at the funny little encounter that just transpired. David is dubbed nice David, a name you mumble and the stoic man hums with joy, you think.

Anyway, after David is—well, a large, intimating man which wild ash-blond hair and sharp crimson eyes which are enhanced by his dark mask. You blink up at him, shocked for a moment before your eyes flicker to Nice David. You both share a look of shock before evil grins appear in your eyes.

Then Dynamight orders and you take his order professionally, not gushing or fan-girling—and not breaking down into a fit of laughter despite so badly wanting to. He gives you his name, a gruff “Dynamight,“ and you bite your cheek.

You take your sharpie—you've chosen orange for obvious reasons—and your write what some may consider your final words. You're optimistic and consider it funny. “Dynamight 2,“ you mumble and the man snaps his head around with such a bizzare, pissed off look you can't stop the laugh. You tried, which turned it into a snort and the rage in his eyes exploded (heh) at the sound. You hid behind the empty coffee cup, pinching your lips together as laughter prodded at your chest.

“The hell did you just say? You think that shit is funny?!“

You did. Then you realized he probably thought you were making fun of his recent drop from number one hero to number two. He was bitter about that, it was no secret. You cleared your throat, back to looking at Dynamight with your professional facade. “Sorry sir, it's just that,“ you paused, sharing a look with Nice David.

“Spit it out,“ the inpatient hero demanded.

You looked back it him, clearing your throat again as a laugh threatened to ruin everything. You laughed when you here nervous and it didn't help that you always found Dynamight's reactions amusing. But you had to keep it together, for the other, no doubt, embarrassed Dynamights in the room. “Well, I'm sorry to say, but Dynamight and Dynamight 1 have already been taken.“

“What?“

It was so short, so curt, and so blunt you almost laughed again. You saw the other two Dynamights flinch and you wanted to scream. What were the odds the real deal would come into the little cafe the same time as two of his fans? Ah, if you were them you'd be too embarrassed to get your coffee. But, since you weren't them, well, you were there to enjoy the comedy gold.

Back to Dynamight 2. The man still awaited an explanation, far too confused to be annoyed at your lack of action. You looked at the two other Dynamights who's eyes were glued to the floor. You looked at your coworkers, all of which were hiding smiles by showing their backs to the giant pro—busying themselves with work. You looked at Kind Dave, both agreeing this was one of—nay, the BEST thing to ever happen in your lives. You looked at Dynamight 2, a man so lost and so confused, so unsure of his identity.

“If you would like, I can use a different name.“

“Huh?“ That snapped him back to the present. “Hell no, I'm Dynamight!“

“Yes.“

“So use Dynamight!“

“It's already been used—“ “Then swap them!“

“I can't. That would just confuse the team—“ “Then I should be Dynamight 1!“

“That's already been taken.“

“Just change it from Dynamight 2, dammit!“

“How about Dynamight 3?“

Oh if looks could kill. “Change. It,“ he order slowly, lowly, and most definitely sternly.

You coughed into your hand to hide the laugh. “Alright sir, I'll change it.“

You assumed he was too angry to listen to your new name for him which was his fault actually. He could most certainly not blame you for what was to come because it was he who left you unsupervised and you lived off of the pain of others.

There were no other customers so, you had the honor of handing out drinks. It was with great joy you took that job and you, again with great joy, read the name on the cup out loud. “Dynamight.“

You saw the hero twitch. His scowl deepened and you would've laughed to yourself if you weren't waiting for Dynamight to show up. You looked at the small group, raising a brow when no one came. “Guess he left,“ you mumbled.

One of your coworkers mumbled a response. “I'd leave too.“

You both shared a small snicker.

Then the next order came up. “Dynamight one?“ you asked, fully aware that person has also slipped out.

That meant two free coffees for the team.

Next was “Kind David,“ you announced proudly.

The man, the myth, the legend walked up to your counter and, as the name implied, kindly took the drink from you, giving you a kind nod of thanks. You both shared a look of amusement before he left, giving Dynamight 2 a small nod as he passed.

It was time. You held the large black coffee with a hint of cinnamon and a helping of whipped cream in your hand. Dynamight liked whipped cream, who knew? You didn't look at the cup to read the name. No. You looked straight into Dynamight's narrowed eyes. He began approaching the counter, glare hardening in suspicion. You announced him and he bristled with anger, lip lifting up to reveal his pink gums as he sneered down at you. Such a large man.

“Number two!“ you announced loudly, cheerfully, and joyously.

Boy. You had never seen a face curl up like that. He towered over you and he opened his mouth to give you a pice of his mind. But you beat him to it. You leaned forward, mischievous glint in your eye. “Don't worry,“ you whispered, “you'll always be number one here, hero.“

And it was supposed to be a funny jab, you said it with a teasing look. It was supposed to make him snatch the coffee outta your hands with a glare. But, well, you couldn't control his emotions.

He grabbed the coffee, taking it out of your hand normally. He glared, a comparatively calm glare. “Watch yourself, shorty.“

And you let your mouth drop in a dramatic scoff, about to give his back a piece of your mind, then you see it. You freeze, mouth gaping in actual shock. The back of his neck and the tips of his ears were the slightest bit red. You thought you were seeing things. You rubbed your eye. Oh boy, you were not seeing things.

It was supposed to be a funny jab. You said it with a teasing look. But hey, if Dynamight got all embarrassed, that was fine too. “We'll be rooting for you hero!“ you cheered, again, mildly teasing.

He scoffed but you saw the blush grow on the back of his neck. He sent you one glare over his shoulder and your cat-like grin grew at the pink dusting his upper cheek. Then he left and the cafe was silent before you and your coworkers burst into a series of obnoxious laughs and giggles. You were not giggling, by the way, you were on the floor DYING and wheezing in an ugly, hilarious sort way.

Dynamight was an interesting guy.

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auteurdelabre · 4 months

Text

CODE BROKEN (part 5/5) dark!Joel x f!Reader

pairings: dark!Joelxf!Reader (she's you!)

rating: 18+ (scram youngins!)

Words: 12.0k (wtf how?)

Warnings: femdom (if you squint), hands off, cockwarming, sweet dirty talk, Joel whimpers, sweet!Joel, fluff and angst, protected p in v.

a/n: Y’all this was one of those weird stories that I wrote and posted to A03 that no one commented on. Then just as I was giving up all these people on tumblr and then A03 started being like “we want more dark!joel!” and because I can’t deny you anything, I kept going. And now we’re here and I’m actually kinda heartbroken I won’t be writing about these two anymore. Anyway, I thought this concluded things nicely and if you agree (and even if you don’t) please leave me a comment because I don’t make shit on these. It’s all for the love of writing (and getting’ comments).

Code Broken Parts 1 - 4

==========================================

Code Broken: Total Eclipse of the Heart

Trish's wedding is beautiful and sentimental and everything you knew it would be. Seeing her in the dress you spent months making, beaming as she kisses her husband Cliff makes your heart swell.

When the group throws the multicolored confetti and it lands like snow in her rust colored hair you think it's the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

They've decorated the old church basement beautifully. Handmade bunting hangs from rafters; lopsided cakes made from whatever could be spared from the kitchen line the tables. The children of Jackson are shrieking and laughing as they spin around the crowd of people, darting between legs with icing smeared over their mouths.

You're tired after all the lead up to this event. Exhausted after the preparation, the decorating, and the assurances to Trish that it was no trouble to do it all. Trish holds her son in her arms, smiling up at her husband who presses a kiss to her forehead.

You sit back in your chair at one of the tables watching the crowds drinking and dancing as a few of the locals play a surprisingly in-tune melody with the instruments they possess.

"You did a wonderful job," Maria tells you as she walks by. "Wish I'd had you around for my wedding."

You smile and thank her before you lean back; eyes sleepily half-open as you watch the couple nearest to you spin together.

Mark gives you a wave from across the room, his arm around the waist of Jenny, one of the newer people to have moved here. She gazes are him adoringly and this makes you smile as you return the wave.

You’d never say it, but it makes you feel a bit like an outsider seeing all your friends coupled up. Even though you never needed anyone else, the thought of another person sharing in your life has its appeal.

"Hi there."

The husky voice behind you is quiet and careful. Low enough for only you to hear. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder. Joel is standing there looking down at you seated at the table.

Joel is dressed like most of the men here in jeans and a button up. His hair is combed back and he smells good. Spicy like cologne, a rare commodity in Jackson.

The sight of him pulls at your lower belly. Despite the weeks that have passed since you saw him last, that desire you carry around for him hidden behind your ribs seeps through.

He's staring at you similar to how he was the last time you saw him, dark and heated and you momentarily shrink from his intense gaze.

You haven't seen him since that day in the stables when you rushed off and you expected to be more furious with him. Instead you just feel gentle irritation mixed with a lust you wish you could will away.

"Hi."

He's got his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly like he's nervous. Joel nervous? You think you must be misunderstanding because Joel Miller is never* nervous.

You've seen him break unruly horses, heard stories of him taking down clickers and Raiders. Why would he be nervous talking to you?

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmurs.

What the fuck?

You blink up at him confusedly. Did Joel Miller just call you beautiful? When you don't answer you see him swallow, eyes going to your shoulder before coming back to your gaze. He looks like he's about to say something but then another voice breaks in between you like a knife slicing through the air.

"Hey come dance with me!"

You both look over to see Mark approaching you with an expectant look on his face, hand held out towards you. His girlfriend Jenny is dancing with some of her friends to the music the band is playing and she gives a cheery wave in your direction followed by a mouthed: "come dance!".

You feel Joel's eyes boring into your profile as you look up to Mark.

"Sure!"

You stand, taking his hand as he tugs you to him. He must notice Joel standing there, half encased in shadows because he starts.

"Oh hey Joel," Mark says with a broad smile. "I didn't see ya there. Just gonna steal this one for a dance."

You can see Joel's cheek tic as Mark spins you away, Joel's dark eyes fixed on you as Mark tugs you around in his arms on the dance floor. You feel strangely giddy at the moment. Almost delighted that Joel is watching you being swept away by another man, even if it is platonic.

You want Joel uncomfortable. You want him to be just as miserable as you've been these past few weeks. Because you can't get him out of your head, you can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about the softness of your last interaction.

Mark is a very bad dancer, but not as bad as you. He does goofy over exaggerated facial expressions as he kicks out his legs. You laugh breathlessly, clutching onto him when he twirls you around in his arms.

You catch Joel's eyes on you a few times, but resolutely turn your attention anywhere else. You notice Tommy comes up to talk to him, but Joel's eyes never leave Mark's hands on your body. They skim over your hips and you can see Joel's fingers tighten around his drink glass.

Mark guides you towards Jenny and the rest of the group. Trish and Cliff are dancing up a storm and Cliff surprises you by grabbing you by the waist and raising you into a spin that lifts your feet off the ground. You give a shriek of laughter, clutching to his shoulders before he sets you down again. Finally the song is over and you are breathless and sweaty at the temples.

"Thanks, I needed that!"

Mark flashes you a grin before waving you off and going to pull Jenny into a tight embrace from behind.

The music slows and you watch as everyone begins to pair up on the dance floor, hands slinging around waists, heads balanced on shoulders. It makes a tear go through your heart, a sudden feeling of awkward isolation.

You're about to leave the dance floor when you feel the heat of another body behind you. You smell him, wood shavings and leather.

"You wanna dance?"

You turn to see Joel standing there, mouth fixed sternly as he gazes down at you.

Shock floods your system at his words. Is he really asking you to dance with him? He wants to hold you and spin you around on the dance floor in front of all these people? He wants to publically be seen with you?

Joel doesn't dance. He barely attends events like this. You've never seen him at the summer dance party. If he is dragged to an event along with Tommy he sticks to the wall, arms crossed nursing a drink. What kind of game is this?

"Are you serious?"

He allows this insult, amusement clear in his eyes but not the rest of his features.

"I was, yeah."

You think of how shitty he's treated you over the past year. The way he's fucked you every which way and never kissed you. You think of how he's taken you and used you and you sneer up at him, feeling prickly.

"Never."

Joel's mouth twitches into a deep frown and you can see red creeping up his neck. You've embarrassed him.

Good.

Nearby couples are watching this exchange with curious looks. Both of you seem to notice this at the same time.

"G'night then."

Joel gives a sharp nod, backing away from you slowly before his long muscled legs are carrying him out of the church. You watch him leave, your stomach twisting before you throw yourself into a nearby chair, head spinning.

What just happened?

You spend the next hour making polite conversation with the people who pass you, giving Trish a hug when she comes to thank you for the twentieth time for everything.

"I want to have you over for dinner next week," she says, eyes filled with thankful tears.

"You're on."

You make your way back to your house, passing by the still partying group smiling and waving.

When you round on Rancher Street you think about Joel tonight. Of his nervousness and his calling you beautiful. Of asking you to dance in front of everyone. Didn't he care about the gossip? He’s notoriously private.

You can see a light is on in his house and this gives you pause. You consider going home and forgetting everything. Ignoring him for the rest of your days. But then something unknown sends your pulse spiking, something that leads your feet to his door and commands you to knock loudly.

You hear his footsteps pad slowly to the door, opening it and looking at you with surprise. He looks tired and you wonder if you’ve woken him. He’s wearing the same clothes though so you assume you caught him napping on the couch.

"What're -"

You push your way inside, not waiting to be invited. Joel allows this, watching you in confusion as you go to his sofa and shrug off your jacket.

You're looking around at his place, at the empty fireplace and the cracked mug on the coffee table, the book tented beside it. Your fingers absently strum his guitar as you pass it, a small smirk on your lips.

Joel walks towards you slowly, footfalls heavy as he regards you from behind curious eyes.

"Take a seat," you say casually motioning to the sofa as he approaches.

Joel doesn't move, doesn't indicate he hears you. You watch his wide hands twitch at his sides, his dark eyes set on you. You tilt your head back, face serious.

"You owe me this much, Joel."

Joel's tongue goes to one side of his cheek as he considers this. This feels like a standoff, a battle of wills. You wait until he finally gives a nod and lowers himself to his sofa, eyes never leaving yours.

You feel such a mixing confusion of emotions for the man looking at you. No, he's gazing at you. Eyes that were always cold and peering now seem softer around the edges. It confuses you.

You're still standing by the empty fireplace, holding your trembling fingers against the mantle. You take a sharp breath in, quietly.

"Take yourself out of your pants."

Irritation flares there in Joel's features. You've pushed too far.

"N-"

"Joel if you ever want to see me again you'll do this," you say sharply. "I mean it."

You hope that it doesn't come out as breathless as you feel because right now you can barely breathe. This is a big gamble. There's a very good chance he's going to kick you out as he's always done.

But then you think of him calling you beautiful and asking you to dance. You think of the looks he gives you when he thinks you're not looking and you consider that perhaps he might acquiesce.

You school your features, sure not to look shocked when Joel's hand finally goes to his belt, undoing it with one jerked movement of his hand. Then he stills as if waiting for you to admit that this is a game that he doesn't have to continue.

But you square your jaw and cross your arms in front of you. You raise a brow and find yourself getting aroused at the power shift. For once you're telling Joel what to do and much like you were that night in his house, kneeled in front of him, he wants it just as badly as you do.

Slowly his zipper is lowered, his jeans shifted and you watch as he brings his cock from underneath his boxers. You blink slowly.

"Already hard," you say approvingly as your eyes scan his already weeping cock. "Good."

Joel isn't smiling, but he isn't furious either. He's just sitting there, arms moving to either side of him on the back of his sofa. It's as if he's relaxing, about to watch the TV he doesn’t own. He continues looking up at you with big brown eyes, his cock rosy and resting on his lower belly.

He isn't trying to look intimidating. He just naturally is.

He watches you tug down the panties from under your dress, stepping out of them and shoving them into your dress pocket. His eyes move from your pocket to your face as you move to the sofa on trembling legs. He watches as you stand in front of him, knees touching. You take a deep breath, lifting one leg over his until you bracket his thighs.

"What is this?" Joel asks tone icy even as he shifts to accommodate you.

"I need something to come on tonight," you tell him. "And I've decided your cock will do nicely."

He says nothing. He doesn't move, doesn't deny this request. He simply continues to stare up at you. His lack of reaction unnerves you, but you plunge ahead regardless.

"You got a condom?"

Joel reacts slowly, tongue pushing into the side of his cheek once more. He considers your question before his hips shift up as he reaches in and pulls the square foil from his back pocket. He holds it out to you.

"Expecting to get lucky tonight, Joel?"

"Nope."

You raise a brow in disbelief. Joel sighs through his nose irritably.

"Was hopin', not expectin'."

You make a scoffing noise in the back of your throat before you motion to the condom with your hand. You expect defiance from him but he slips it on without question, his movements slow and measured as you watch.

You've always thought his hands were beautiful in a large, masculine way. Tonight is no different watching him hold his thick cock as he pinches the end of the condom before rolling it down.

When he's finished you move him to your entrance, eyes fixed on his face. He continues to stare in silence until you slide your already dripping cunt down his cock.

Then he reacts.

"Fuuuck," Joel groans, head tilted back and eyes slammed shut. You work your way down him, humming as his ridges bump inside, creating delicious friction before you come to rest against his hips.

You can tell he's waiting for you to move, to make noise, to do something. But you just sit there with your legs on either side of him, wrists balanced lightly on his shoulders. For once you'll be the one watching him unravel.

You peer into his face, your eyes sliding along the strong nose, the creases at the corner of his eyes, the fullness of his lower lip. You long to reach out and nibble it. It's sinful to have a mouth that kissable on a man so recalcitrant.

Joel's eyes remain closed, his pulse ticking away in his neck. You see his throat bobbing and then he groans. His broad hands rest gently against your waist, urging you against him. His hips shifting upwards to fuck into you. Your hands go to his chest and you push back from him.

"You don't move. You don't touch."

Joel's eyes snap open, head lifting to stare into your face. You're on his lap, almost at eye level now. You see the fire starting, burning in the dark coals of his eyes. The air is thick with tension, his body almost vibrating against yours.

"And if I do?"

"I'll jump off your lap so quick it'll make your head spin," you tell him sharply. "Then I'll leave and never come back. And I'll make sure my bedroom window stays locked."

This heavy threat hangs between you. To your credit you say it all without trembling. You sound self assured, confident. Even with Joel buried to the hilt inside you, his thick cock pulsing, you manage to stay composed.

Joel considers your proposal but not for long when he feels you begin to rise up off of him. His hands remove themselves from around your waist, returning to the back of the threadbare sofa.

You watch him tense before nodding, his mouth in a grim line of frustration.

Good. He fucking deserves it.

You lower yourself slowly back fully onto his lap, his cock warm and thick as you welcome it between your thighs once more. You sigh softly as it nestles there, filling you deliciously. He always feels so good.

"So I just sit here?" Joel murmurs; his eyes shuttering as he forces his hips to remain still.

You find that his voice is just as potent as his cock, your head tilting forward in order to catch every syllable that passes between those pouty lips of his.

"Uh huh," you say plainly.

Joel gives a solemn nod at this, his eyes not leaving your mouth. His arms are still hanging along the back of the sofa but his hands are tightening against the ridge of it. He braces himself, watching with hawk-like focus as your hips begin to shift again.

You smile at the way he struggles to remain still when your thighs spread over him, flashing the glossy sheen of your inner thighs and cunt. You're already drenched with arousal.

You groan as his length grazes your clit when you move. Your wrists once more go to his broad shoulders for purchase as you begin to bounce slowly in his lap. Your head falls forward slightly, your back arching as you slide along his slick cock. You feel his mouth at your ear, husky and deep.

"M'I allowed to ask for anythin'?"

You pause your motions in surprise by this soft utterance by Joel. You shift your head slightly to find his face inches from yours. He doesn't let anything show in his eyes good or bad. You regard him, body stilled atop his, almost breathing into his mouth when you speak.

"What do you want?"

"A kiss."

The sibilant sound of his request echoes in the following silence. Joel's eyes register hope now, a subtle kind of need that you haven't seen before in him.

You find you can't answer him.

Instead you take him deeper into you and Joel makes a soft humming noise, it seems like it slips past his lips unwillingly. He bites down on his full lower lip, stopping himself.

You can see he's trying not to give in, not to make a sound as you slide up and down on his hips in achingly slow movements. His eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched so tightly you're shocked he doesn't break a tooth.

Your head moves forward, lips grazing his temple.

"You like that, Joel?" You huff against his ear. "You like me using this cock of yours to come on?"

He lets out a shuddering sigh, chest heaving.

"F-f..fuck. Yeah."

Then you feel it, his hand creeping between where you join. His fingers desperately sliding over your clit.

You stand abruptly and he slides out of you so rapidly his hips stutter midair.

"What are you---"

"I told you. Tonight you don't move and you don't touch."

Joel's neck is a blotchy red, his forehead is dotted with perspiration and he looks absolutely wrecked.

When you step back towards him he inhales sharply, eyes on the glistening vee of your legs. You align him to the entrance of your cunt and then slide back down the length of his shaft almost angrily.

"Fuck.... Fuck ... " Joel groans helplessly, doing everything in his power to keep still. You hear the squelch of your cunt as you ride him.

You grip the back of Joel's neck, fingers harshly digging there and forcing his gaze down to where your bodies join.

"You fucking watch," you tell him, cunt squeezing him as you rock against his hips. "You watch and you don't touch."

Joel watches the slick of your cunt drooling down his cock and he almost whimpers, but it's overtaken by a groan.

"Why are you punishin' me?" Joel asks through clenched teeth, eyes fixated on your clit dragging along the hairs at the base of his cock.

"I'm giving you everything you gave me," you tell him with poison dripping from every word, sliding up and down. "Using you to make myself come."

"I never did that," Joel says breathing heavily, eyes now fixed on yours. You can see how they roll slightly back with every twist of your hips.

"Never, Joel?"

"Once," he relents. "Only once. Rest of itttt---"

He breaks off into a guttural grunt as your hips swivel. You feel his cock nudge that sweet spot deep within you and your hips rut against him. You make a whining sound of surprise that you think goes down his spine because he quivers.

"The minute you come I'm fucking you over this sofa," Joel warns, mouth at your throat, lips grazing your jugular.

"I don't think so," you tell him, fingers laced behind his neck. "Once I come I'm going home and going to bed."

Joel's head is heavy against the back of the sofa, his lidded eyes on your face. You move slower over him, wanting extend this. Needing to watch the flicker of his eyes when you hit a good spot, needing to relish the moans that turns into deep pants. When you ease off a moment, your cunt slippery with want his voice drops an octave rumbling through his chest.

"You ever think about me fucking you in your bed, pretty eyes?"

"Yeah," you admit after a pause. "Sometimes."

"I can do it now," Joel purrs up at you. "Make you feel so good."

"Nice try."

You've started to swirl back around his cock and he moans lowly. Your thighs are starting to burn with the effort of bobbing up and down on him. Joel's eyes snap to your mouth, watching it part as you pant and give soft little whines of pleasure.

Joel's eyes blow wide, desperation and hope mingled there. His hairline is damp, his restraint obviously hanging by a thread.

"Wanna come for you," he says, voice quiet.

Having Joel at your mercy feels good. Having him looking at you in the same way you looked at him over the passing months feels like vindication. All too soon you've pulled back, only allowing the tip of his cock to graze your clit.

"Beg for it," you tell him as your hips roll, making him grunt and pitch forward. His hips rise, plunging deeply into you, his body unable to stop itself. You allow it, jolting from his thrust a few moments before you pull yourself off of him, scowling.

"I'm not saying it again, Joel."

Joel groans and his body trembles, actually physically trembles. His head is sagging forward, his eyes looking up at you through his dark lashes.

"I don't ... I can't keep goin'," he says raggedly. "I'm gonna come."

"You’d better not."

Now you turn and face away from him, lifting your dress to bunch at your waist. You look down over your shoulder at him, seeing him looking over your exposed ass with awe. With your back to him you slowly back up and your legs bracket his again.

Joel whispers something urgent under his breath as you lower yourself onto his cock, sitting in his lap. Your legs spread widely, hinging over each of Joel's thighs.

His cock hits you different now, tighter, nudging that pleasured core inside that makes you cry out. Your hands go to Joel's knees, bracing there as you urge his cock deeper into your slippery cunt.

"Please," Joel says through gritted teeth. He's panting now, breath sweet like peppermint huffing against the back of your neck. You twist, eyes cast over your shoulder at him.

"Please what?"

Joel's head lolls forward, eyes slowly cracking open. You looks absolutely ruined and to you, Joel Miller has never looked sexier.

"Please lemme make you come," Joel all but whimpers. You can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. "Then let me fuck you properly."

There is a wild moment where you consider denying him. Where you think of pulling yourself off of him and never seeing him again. Making him ache for you the way you ache for him in those dark, quiet times.

"Please baby," Joel whispers, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are almost translucent. "Fucking need to make you come. Please."

Joel Miller is begging you.

Begging.

Something snaps in you, desire licking between your legs. You tilt back until your spine is flush with his front, his cock still buried in your cunt.

He's gazing down at you, steady and dark and if you didn't know better you'd say your pose could almost appear loving. Your head balanced back on his shoulder, your palm going to stroke his cheek. He swallows at the contact, his mouth drifting towards yours.

"Go on then," you tell him, lips nearly grazing his. "Make me come, Joel."

The words aren't even out of your mouth before he thrusts his thighs apart. Your legs are slung over his, so you feel them parting luridly, exposing your glistening sex to the night air.

One of Joel's hands is sliding up your dress to cup your breast, the other slipping over your thigh to thumb your slick clit between your puffy pussy lips. You quiver at the immediate pleasure of the sensation his touch brings, your cunt tightening around his cock.

"Goddam you feel like heaven," he groans into the back of your neck making you preen.

His hips begin a slow but deepened pace, jostling you in his lap. You groan against his neck, eyes closed languidly.

"That's right," Joel croons when you gasp deeply. "Fucking go on, baby. Take it. S'all for you."

You begin to whimper, shaky needful sounds as your hand clutches at his neck, your forehead braced against the side of his jaw as he fucks into you from behind, holding you there in his lap.

"So good," Joel says in that husky drawl of his. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this."

All too soon you feel that heavy thump between your legs, the building crescendo. Joel groans as he feels you edge your climax, his body quaking under you. He holds you against him tighter, his rumbling moans vibrating against your spine.

"Wanna make you feel so good," Joel rasps in the shell of your ear. "Wanna give you everything. Please come for me, baby. Lemme hear you."

At his last words you begin to shatter against him, an unholy sound breaking from your throat.

"Oh yeah- just like that pretty eyes," Joel says grinding deeply into you, his voice husky in your ear. "Fuck, just like that, yeah. Yeah, fucking use me, baby. Take what you need."

Your hands grip his tightly against your front and you both move together in some carnal dance. Him thrusting deeply into you as you arch back into him. Your throat is exposed and your mouth parts, an inchoate cry on your lips.

"That's my girl," he groans in your ear before pressing sloppy kisses to the side of your bared neck. "That's right baby, you keep goin' just like that."

It's cathartic and overwhelming as everything that has been tensed in your body suddenly releases. It momentarily frightens you in its severity and you cry out.

"Joel!"

"I've got you," Joel soothes, arms holding you tightly against him almost in a bear hug. "Just ride it out. There you go, there you go. Feel all of it, c'mon baby. I've got you."

You do. You ride it out, body shaking against him as you chase your pleasure chanting his name over and over as he murmurs gentle praise against your temple.

"So good....so fucking beautiful... All for you..."

Finally the trembling ceases and you sag in his arms breathing deeply. You feel wrung out, totally exhausted in both body and mind. Joel's soft mouth is on your shoulder blade pressing a long kiss to it. You melt into the sensation, warmed by the feel of his lips on your body.

"Mine."

It's whispered, not meant for you to hear, but you do. It makes your spine straighten and your body lurch from him.

On jellied legs you struggle to a stand, tripping over your own feet as Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, cock still hard when he pulls off the condom.

"Baby, wait -"

But you don't. You're not his baby. This isn't love. This was payment, this was retribution. This wasn't an act between partners or even friends. You're practically strangers to one another.

You push his door open and stagger home, muscles tight. You still can't believe what you just did. The way you just demanded pleasure from Joel. The power you'd felt when he begged to come. You feel heady, you feel...

Empty.

Empty because now as you collapse onto your own sofa you feel tears prick your eyes. Yeah, you fucked Joel Miller. But it doesn't change anything. You're still here in your house alone.

All alone.

You go to the bookshelf, bringing down the album you so often flip through. You open it to the photo of you and your sister at age eight, arms linked as you squint in the sunshine, gap-toothed smiles on display.

You love that photo because you can sometimes remember that day. Remember how the sunshine felt on your bare shoulders, how your sisters arm linked in yours was coated in coconut-scented suntan lotion.

You flip to a photo of you both bent over a pink frosted cake, your sister's sixteenth birthday party. The last photo you took before the outbreak. You think of that night spent laying on the trampoline out back, looking up at the stars.

"I wanna marry a man that looks just like Johnny Depp," your sister said, cheeks red from the days sun. "But he'll be a model too. And he'll take me all over the world."

Your sister had always been about flash, just like your mother. You were so different from them, more serious, more thoughtful.

"What about you?" She asked, candy-scented breath next to your face.

"I want someone who reads and likes the same music, as me," you replied, eyes trailing dreamily over the night sky. "Someone more serious…Someone like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre."

"You're so weird," your sister had announced, giggling in your ear.

You look at the album; your sister’s laugh still ringing in your ear. You look at the empty house around you. You think of how much you lost in the outbreak, how little you have now and then you allow yourself to cry.

///

Later that week you go to work, mechanical and distracted. You work only half your shift before telling your co-workers that you'll finish up the rest at home. That you're feeling a bit under the weather.

You gather the fabric into your arms, bidding farewell. Your mind is full, stuffed to the brim with thoughts of Joel Joel Joel as you wander the streets back to your house.

You're so distracted that you don't notice the tall woman in front of you until she calls your name. When you see who it is you stop abruptly, eyes wide.

"Hey," Tess says giving you an awkward wave as she saunters over to you, a bag of bread in her arms.

"Hey," you say equally uncomfortable. You struggle to find something to say, terrified that she's going to start a scene. Does she know about you and Joel in his house?

She can't. There's no anger in her expression or disgust. Just a polite smile that you yourself would use on any other member of Jackson City. You shift the fabric awkwardly in the crook of your arm.

"You uh, you weren't at the wedding."

Her light eyes drop to the ground before slowly making their way back to your face.

My guy was on patrol," Tess shrugs, blushing prettily. "Wanted to be there for him when he got back."

You smile at this, recalling what Trish told you about Tess. Her new partner.

"Besides I still don't know many people actually," Tess forces a smile. "So it seemed weird to go."

A new kind of guilt assaults you. The kind that reminds you all the time she invited you over for drinks, all the walks that you declined with her. The desperate bids for friendship that she threw your way and that you continually ignored.

"Everyone's invited to everything around here," you say, shifting the fabric to your other arm. "Next event we'll go together. I'll introduce you to the group."

"Yeah sure," Tess says with a real smile. "I'd like that."

"Good."

Tess looks momentarily uncomfortable licking her dry lips before fixing you with a serious expression.

"You know you and Joel don't have to hide that you're together for my sake," she tells you with an earnestness that makes you feel choked up. "I'm happy for you both. That's what I keep telling him! But he keeps telling me to mind my own business."

It's like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown over your head. Tess seems to want to say more when she registers your reaction but she stops, wan smile on her face.

"There is no me and Joel," you finally tell her flatly. "Never was, never will be."

Tess, looks completely flummoxed. Her hands stem at her hips as she looks at you, her brows heavy.

"You sure about that?"

You open your mouth to say something but then pause. Tess waits, head tilted. You find your voice, but it's quieter than before, less certain.

"I barely know him, Tess."

"He's worth getting to know," Tess says simply, no guile in her eyes. "Even if he doesn't agree. He'll show you though if you give him the chance."

You're struck by the woman's sincerity. Guilty about what went on with Joel, ashamed that you could have done it. Confused because it's like Joel is tattooed on your insides, a continual reminder that he exists every time you draw a breath.

"Joel doesn't let a lot of people in," she adds when she sees the conflicted feelings clear in your face. "When the old world ended it changed how we all saw the future. I don't think Joel ever really saw one where he was gonna be happy again. Makes it hard to be pleasant sometimes."

You don't say anything further, unable to come up with a worthwhile end to the conversation.

Tess decides that she'll be the one to end things with a nod and a murmured goodbye. You watch her leave, amazed that Joel could ever let her go.

///

That evening you watch the sun set outside your window. It's a beautiful light orange that sets everything it touches in golden rays.

It's the kind of night where you want to curl in bed and read with the window open. But you haven't unlocked that window in months.

You won't. You can't.

But you think about heading down to the river in the back lots. It's a trek but maybe you need to clear your head. Everything that test told you this afternoon is replaying in your mind over and over.

Did Joel say something to Tess about caring for you? Why did she assume that you were together?

A knock at the door draws your attention. You towel off your hands and stride over to it, pulling the door open slowly.

Joel stands there on your doorstep, a nervous look on his face.

"Can we talk?"

His hands are thrust deep into his pockets. You can only assume that he's here to pay you back for your visit to his and the thought sours your stomach.

"I'm not fucking you, Joel."

"S'not why I'm here."

He seems earnest when he says this and it gives you pause. You see the sweat dotting his forehead, the strain in his expression. This isn't the face of a man who wants to demand something from you.

Silently you open the door further, signaling with your tilted head for him to enter. He does, shooting you a quick, thin-lipped smile and nod before his broad-shoulder-ed frame is inside.

You watch him enter into your home, his tall frame loping towards your fireplace. He glances at books resting on your mantle. His forefinger goes to touch one, the spine of one before he moves on.

He moves around this place casually as if he belongs here. As if he isn't an interloper in your home.

His eyes dart down to your coffee table.

He points at the album opened up to the page you had paused over last night.

"Family photos?"

"Yeah."

"You're lucky you have so many," Joel murmurs, his dark eyes roaming over the many faces of your family.

"My mom grabbed the album before we left," you shrug. "The only thing I still have from before."

You don't know why but you allow Joel to flip through your family album. He smiles gently when he gets to a picture of two girls with missing front teeth holding ice cream cones on the beach.

"You and your sister?"

"Yeah."

He nods, brows heavy. He doesn't ask but he seems to know all the same.

"Watched her turn," you tell him regardless. "Watched my mom kill her."

Joel is staring at you, eyes wide. His hands twitch at his side. If this was the world before, he would offer condolences but on this utterly broken earth they serve no purpose. Instead he stares at you looking both uncomfortable and overwhelmingly sad.

But you don't care how Joel feels. You're tired and you want to go to bed.

"What do you want Joel? Why are you here? You wanna learn about my family? You wanna hear how after my mom killed my sister she killed herself?" You shake your head. "Is this some new game for you?"

Joel shakes his head. "Was never a game to me."

"Right."

Joel can tell you don't believe him. He frowns deeply before lowering himself onto your sofa. He looks expectantly at you, tilting his head to the empty seat next to him.

"I'll stand thanks."

"Suit yourself," Joel says tightly and you can see that familiar need for control in his features. It pleases you to upend it.

"S'never a game to me," Joel repeats. "Can't say the same for you, though, sneakin' into my house to move my shit around. Why'd you start that by the way?"

Now it's your turn to look sheepish. You consider sending him away just so you don't have to answer. But then you think of him coming here after everything that’s gone on the last few days and you relent.

"You hurt my feelings and…I wanted your attention, I think."

"You already had it."

"Not that kind of attention with you being all grumpy," you roll your eyes. "I wanted you to look at me without scowling. I wanted to be friends. The first time you ever noticed me you were so rude!"

"Noticed you long before that," Joel promises. "Noticed you the first week I moved in."

"Huh?"

Joel sighs, as if what he has to say physically pains him. His foot absently taps against your wood floors, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

"I was carrying boxes upstairs to the bedroom. Your window was open I think. I just glanced over cuz something caught my eye. Maybe your curtains or somethin' moving in the breeze." Joel looks almost embarrassed at all the ancillary information he's offered.

"Anyway I saw you sittin' on your bed and you were readin'. Totally focused, didn't even notice me watchin' you while I unloaded boxes."

You narrow your eyes on him with suspicion. "Why would you watch me read?"

"Was relaxin'," Joel shrugs briefly, honestly. "Whenever I caught sight of you, you were just so comforting. I can't explain it properly. . . But then time went on and I happened to see you when you were readin' or cookin' or just out walkin', you were just so calm to look at."

You feel your mouth parting. Joel had been watching you for so long. Much longer than you even had begun to watch him.

"And it wasn't just calm I felt. It was happy. It made me happy to watch you, especially when you smiled," Joel's mouth curves into a small grin as if recalling a specific memory. "You got such a gorgeous smile. Makes your whole face light up."

You're openly gaping at him now. Shocked at these ready admissions of a truth hidden for so long. Confused at this softness, this tenderness.

"I've never seen someone smile so fucking much. Sarah would have just loved you. You and that friend, you smiled and laughed all the time." Joel grows somber, brows saddling. "But you don't smile half as much anymore.. is it cuz of me?"

Yes.

Because I hate that I want you.

"If it is... Tell me," Joel insists. "I don't wanna be the reason you stop smiling, pretty eyes. I'll leave you alone forever if it gets you smilin' again."

He's got puppy dog eyes now. Wide and sorrowful looking. They almost don't fit with the harsh planes of the rest of his face.

"Why do you call me that?" you ask exasperatedly. "Do you not remember my name or something?"

"Course I know your name," Joel says, whispering it now. The sound of it slides over your body like a silk sheet. "S'a beautiful name."

"So then why-"

"I call you pretty eyes because you see beauty in everything. Nature, animals, people. You always wanna help. You want the whole shitty world to be a better place," Joel is shaking his head. "You know how terrifying that is to someone who's given up?"

You don't know what to say.

Joel stands, reaching into his back pocket. He closes his eyes, wincing before he crosses over to you and forces something into your hands. You hold it to your face. It's a photograph, a small one, the kind you yourself used to get in school, sent home glossy and overpriced for your mom to purchase.

It's been folded, creased, lovingly looked at thousands of times, you can tell. It's of a young girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile. A girl with a dimple in her cheek that matches her father. Your finger traces the sweet curve of her face.

"That's Sarah," Joel tells you after a beat. "My daughter."

"She's beautiful."

“She was, yeah.”

Joel's face holds a myriad of emotions all at once. The most prominent of them all however is regret. There's a story there likely similar to your own. You hand him back the photo and he places it back in his pocket.

"I kept going after she was... Taken from me," Joel explains, obviously not wanting to use the real word. "I didn't wanna keep going. But I felt like I had to. I did what I thought I had to and I survived. And when I got here to Jackson I was all alone and all I could think was what was the point? What did I do all this for?"

You nod. Understanding more than you think he'll ever realize. Joel moves back to sit on the sofa, his body tense.

"I thought existing was enough. But then that night I caught you in my closet.... It's like I felt alive again. The good kind of alive- not just needing to live for survival. The kind of alive that has my heart hammerin' and my blood pounding. Makes food taste better for Christ's sake, I don't know how, but it does," Joel is going pink at his neck and cheeks.

"S'like you brought me back from the dead."

You feel the tension, the animosity, the agitation that has been tightening your muscles suddenly release at his words.

"I did?"

Joel nods and he doesn't move closer to you but you have a feeling he'd like to.

"The day after we... The first time," Joel has the good graces to look embarrassedly down at his shoes. "I thought it was better if I stayed away from you."

"Why?"

"Because I was ashamed of myself for how I'd treated you," Joel looks sick as he remembers it, eyes lowered. "But then I saw you that day in the shop lookin' at books and...I just... I was shaking when you walked by me but I just wanted to be near you. I just couldn't stop thinking about you."

You feel like your stomach is doing somersaults. You've never heard Joel talk so much. It makes your head spin. It makes the world feel tilted. Joel is looking at you, concern clear in his features.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you croak, feeling your legs growing wobbly. You slowly lower yourself to the sofa. Joel joins you and you swallow when his knee brushes yours.

"I've done a lot of things," Joel says. "Things I'm not proud of. Things that someone like you shouldn't have to be around. But I wanted to be around you."

Joel takes a deep breath and you're surprised to see the sheen to his dark eyes. You allow his hand to slowly cover your knee, his thumb giving you soothing rubs.

"I thought about you every day."

Your heart is pounding at his husky admission. But then as those words settle within your mind you grow sullen.

"What about Tess?"

"You were suddenly all chummy with that Markus. The two of you looked like a couple n' you were always with your friend and her husband. You seemed happy and I didn't wanna interfere." Joel frowns. "I knew Tess from way back. Thought it made sense. Wanted it to work. But I couldn't stop thinkin' about you."

You make a scoffing sound.

"I really couldn't," Joel insists, his voice pained. "The night you left my place? I told her I was..." Joel swallows. "I told her there was someone else. She said she'd figured."

"Did you tell her we-"

"No," Joel shakes his head. "You can call me a coward if you want. But it seemed cruel to tell her. Almost as cruel as doin' it in the first place."

You nod in agreement.

"I was terrified when you weren't at home after that. Took a lot of askin' around to find out you were staying with your friend." Joel frowns, eyes limpid. "Was it cuz you didn't wanna see me?"

You can see real fear there in his eyes at your answer and you know that what you say next could potentially devastate him. But the anger you've been carrying around with you like a second skin has fled. Right now you want to be honest like him.

"Not completely," you answer truthfully, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. "I was also scared I was pregnant."

Joel's head ducks slightly and his voice drops so lowly you don't hear what he mumbles. You ask him to repeat it and Joel exhales slowly.

"I was hopin' you were."

What. The. Fuck.

That was about the last thing you ever thought you'd hear from Joel Miller. You stare at him unblinking, unsure that you've heard him correctly. The entire lower half of his face is flushed, like he's just exposed his biggest secret. Which in a way, you suppose he has.

You think back to that night. Of Joel emptying himself into you with a groan and disgust crosses your features.

"Did you mean to-"

"Fuck no!" Joel answers, the truth immediately apparent in his horrified expression. "Just got carried away that night. No fuck, I would never ... No. Not on purpose. Not without talking to.. Was just after... when I was thinking about it that the idea just .. If it did happen... It maybe didn't seem so awful to me..."

"Jesus, Joel."

Joel nods, grimacing. "I know. I just. . . Thinking of you carrying my baby? Belly swollen and everyone knowing you were mine? That I made you a mama? I wanted it. Wanted that life. I know it was selfish, I know it's fucked up, but it's the truth. I'm trying to be as honest as possible here. No lyin'."

You hate the way this pulls at your lower belly. The desire that licks there. Joel wanting to put his claim on you in the most permanent way possible has you slick between your legs. Despite how fucked up it is, despite how wrong, you can't help but feel turned on.

What is wrong with me?

Logic and reason prevails and you feel your resolve strengthening. You tilt back from his hand on your knee, pulling your legs against your chest as you press against the arm at the other end of the sofa. Joel watches you retreat from him, face falling.

"Joel you just like fucking me." You spread your arms wide. "That's all this has ever been."

"For you maybe," Joel shakes his head. "S'not just that. Not for me."

"How would you know?"

"Cuz I wanna spend time with you," Joel explains, bright eyes on yours. "Be near you. Not just fucking."

You don't know what else to say. How would you ever know if that was true? Too much has happened between the two of you.

"Can I show you?"

You glance up at Joel, brows raised. Show you?

"Show me what?"

"What I wanted more than anything since the last time I saw you?"

It's a trick. A way to let him further into your home. Payback for what you did to him.

No no no. Don't let this happen again you fool.

And yet you barely hesitate. After everything he's confessed to you there is no ire left in you.

"Okay."

Joel's sudden smile is wide and warm and so damn grateful that it pulls at your heartstrings. He stands, holding his hand out to you. You look at his palm briefly before you take it, feeling as his large, warm hand wraps around yours.

He holds you tightly and the both of you pad upstairs. The stairs creak under your combined weight but you barely hear it over the rush of blood roaring in your ears.

Joel is in your house. Joel is touching you. Joel is being tender. Joel Joel Joel. The man you couldn't stop thinking about. The man you hate yourself for wanting because he’s so cold. But tonight he’s so warm.

You reach the threshold of your bedroom and stop, looking at him curiously. He gives a nod, silently asking for your trust.

Despite everything you give it, walking into your bedroom and waiting as he follows you.

"Where's your nightclothes?"

You point to a dresser drawer. He nods, going over to it and pulling it open. You watch in quiet fascination as he pulls out a pale yellow nightdress with ruffles at the shoulders.

"S'pretty," he murmurs looking at it. "You like this one?"

"Yeah."

You're confused when he takes your hand in his again and walks you to the bathroom. The wide, aged tub in there is turned on. A luxury you don't often take advantage of because you prefer showers.

While the warm water is filling, Joel places the nightgown beside the sink. He turns to you and you can see him take a nervous inhale.

"Can I undress you?"

Again you barely hesitate. You nod and he closes the distance between you.

His blunted fingers move slowly over the buttons of your cardigan, your skirt. You watch Joel's face the entire time, taking in the way his mouth twists lightly to the side as he concentrates. He undresses you with quiet patience, his eyes warm and soft. Your clothes are slipped gently from your body, folded (much to your gentle amusement) and placed on the counter next to the nightdress.

You watch him take a deep inhale before his hands skim around your bra to unhook it. Your breasts fall, released from the cotton fabric. Joel looks at your flushed face, his breathing shuddering. But he slips the bra off your shoulders and places it with the rest.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. You feel your nipples tightening as his eyes fall over them, a look of reverence in his features. You wait for his mouth to descend, or his hands to knead them.

But instead his fingers come to rest on your hips, thumbs curling around the band of your panties. You feel your breath growing uneven at the thought of being completely bared to him. He hears it, registers it and his dark eyes flit to yours.

"This still okay?"

You nod, trying to steady your breath. Joel smiles, eyes going to your mouth. You know he wants to kiss you but instead he blinks and lowers himself to kneel in front of you.

There on his knees before you, like you're his own personal altar, Joel slowly begins slipping your panties down your thighs, your calves, until you step out of them with your hand on his shoulder for balance.

Finally you stand there in front of him naked. You feel vulnerable and turned on all at once. He's still kneeling, eyes drifting everywhere as if he's trying to memorize you. Your face heats as his wide eyes slide over every piece of exposed flesh.

His finger trails over the scar at your ribs, unseen to him before now. His eyes go to your face as he stands, hand coming to drift over your cheek.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs huskily. But he doesn't make any further move to touch you.

You think that this is what he's been after since you arrived back home. That he's just wanting to fuck somewhere new. That this was an elaborate way to break down your barriers. You fold your arms over your breasts, hand coming to hide your sex.

You watch in confused silence as Joel strips as well, tugging off his shirt and jeans and boxers until he's standing there in front of you naked, his cock semi hard. He stands waiting, letting you have your turn at gawking. Despite the vulnerability of his nakedness, be excudes a powerful dominance, his frame large.

His masculine body is beautiful, his shoulders broad and the skin golden and littered with pale scars. You can't help but touch the swell of his biceps, fingers trailing over and down to his wrist. He shivers when you touch him and you see his cock hardening. He goes to cover himself.

"You're gorgeous," you blurt, heart swelling when you see him give a shy grin at your words. He tilts his head away from you, his face pinking. Shy.

Joel Miller is shy.

The tub is full now and Joel turns the tap to stop. He steps in first, testing the heat before holding a beckoning hand to you. With a quirked brow you take it, allowing him to lower you both to sit in the tub. You go in front and his long legs go to either side of you.

You marvel at the gold skin of his legs and the dark hair that grows there. This skin, previously a mystery shown to you up close. You can't stop yourself from reaching a hand to his ankle and brushing the delicate bone there. His damp hand skims up your spine, he too marveling at this new piece of you exposed to him.

Eventually he urges your back against his chest and you let out a small whisper of a groan his fingers come to your neck and begin to massage.

"This okay?"

"Mhmmm."

You go boneless as Joel's hands work your neck and shoulders as the water surrounds you. The warm bath feels so good and Joel's touch is so comforting.

Finally his hands are removed, once more going to urge your back against his front. He holds you loosely, fingers trailing over your forearm.

You sit for several moments in the quietly lapping water, feeling Joel's chest constrict and expand as he breathes behind you. Your eyes fall shut, lulled by your surroundings and you hear him fumbling with a bottle before you hear the squeeze of your shampoo bottle.

His wide hands go to drag the shampoo through your hair. The sensation of his fingers carding through your tresses makes every hair on your body stand on end in pleasure.

"You've got beautiful hair," Joel says softly, marveling at it as he rubs your scalp. "Thought so the first time I saw you."

You think of that day with the book when Joel had approached you, when he had smoothed a wayward strand of your hair between his fingers.

"Thanks."

You go limp against him, body melting into his light touch. When he talks it reverberates through your back. You muse that you could fall asleep like this. His chin grazes the top of your head.

"You enjoy that Jane Eyre book?"

He speaks gently as if he doesn't want to disturb your serenity.

"Yeah I did," you say smiling genuinely. "It was one of my favorite books from before."

"Mine too."

This surprises you a moment that he remembered until you recall the books he was going to lend you months ago. He'd had so many that you yourself had loved.

Joel seems so closed off, a hermit, almost a luddite in your mind. But he plays beautiful music and he reads wonderful books. There's so much to uncover about him.

"What do you think is Bradbury's best work?"

"Easy," you can feel Joel smiling behind you as he continues lathering. "Fahrenheit 451."

"You're crazy," you insist with an amused laugh. "It's the Martian Chronicles!"

"Never," Joel insists with a playful tug of your hair. "I bet you'll say Dandelion Wine was good."

"It was!" You insist, craning your head to face him with a faux outraged expression. He's grinning back down at you, his face glowing in the gentle light of the sunset outside the window.

"S'okay," he murmurs with his soft eyes sweeping over your face. "We don't have to agree on everything."

You nod, and he turns his attention to the pitcher next to the bathtub.

"Tilt your head back, pretty eyes."

You do so, eyes closing as Joel scoops water up into the jug and rinses the shampoo from your hair.

You feel at ease here in the water with Joel, you both just existing in the gentle warmth. You wish you could straighten your body out over him. You feel like a cat longing to stretch out in a sunbeam.

It makes you feel soft and gentle towards Joel. You find yourself wanting to know more about him, about the life he had before everything went to shit.

"What did you do before everything?"

"Contractor." His fingers make sure not to miss a strand of your hair with the water. "Tommy n' I had our own company."

He tells you a bit about the construction company, about how it was fun and exhausting being his own boss. It's easy to imagine Joel hammering away at wood planking, driving a beat up old truck down some winding streets.

He asks you about yours and you muse that the only job you had before the outbreak was working at a video store.

"Must be why you like those movie nights here," Joel muses. You look up at him, grinning, delighted that he remembers this fact about you.

"Yeah."

His eyes drift lazily down from your eyes to your mouth and you know what he wants because now you want it too. Desperately.

He won't make the first move, you can tell. So it's you that tilts up to press your lips against his. You feel your entire body tingle as he sighs against you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

It's a sweet, soft thing that ends with him pulling back and pressing another gentle kiss to your cheek and forehead before he moves back to working on your hair.

You talk quietly back and forth about life before the outbreak. He tells you that Sarah always fell asleep during movies, even the ones she picked out. He tells you that he was almost married but then his fiancée backed out and left him with his infant daughter. You tell him that your sister was your favorite person. You tell him that your first kiss was under the bleachers at school.

When he begins to massage the conditioner into your scalp your head falls back and you let out a whimpered moan. It feels heavenly to be cared for like this. You've never had this.

At the first strains of your cry you feel Joel's cock hardening further against your lower back. Arousal pools in your belly and your hand moves under the water, instinctively going to grip him. He twitches at the contact.

"Not tonight, pretty eyes," Joel murmurs, gently urging your hand off of him and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

You continue sitting there between his legs confused as he rinses the last of the conditioner from your hair, his hardened cock pressed between your bodies.

He's hard and he doesn't want you to touch him?

He shampoos and rinses his own hair before he stands, pulling you from the water tenderly by the hand. He drains the tub, moving to grab your towel from the hook by the door.

With a softness you didn't expect from him, Joel gently towels you off, drying each inch of your flesh before tugging your nightdress on over your body.

He pulls on his boxers before you both pad back to your bedroom. He pulls back the covers of the bed, urging you to crawl in. You do so and you look expectantly up at him, noticing his hesitation as he lowers the blankets around you, tucking you in. He takes a moment to look at you, cheeks pink from the steam of the bath, eyes sleepy.

He leans over, kissing you full on the mouth in a way that's all sweet. It's a kiss of tenderness that has you exhaling into his mouth.

This version of Joel is so fucking appealing. This open, soft Joel that talks to you about everything. This Joel that touches you with no aim other than to make you feel good and cherished.

"I'm gonna get dressed and go," he says in a whisper as he pulls back from your lips. His knuckles trace your cheek as he smiles serenely down at you. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

You realize that the bath, that tenderness is what he'd wanted. He hadn't been expecting sex at all and for that reason alongside many others, you want him to stay. You reach out from under the covers, grabbing his wrist.

"I don't want you to go."

He pauses, his dark eyes scanning yours. He's hesitant and you know that he's worried you'll see this evening as transactional when you know it's been anything but.

"I want you to stay, Joel."

Joel contemplates a while longer before he finally nods. He pulls back the covers, climbing between the sheets beside you. He's warm from the bath and you instinctively snuggle back against him. His arms eagerly wrap around you and in them you feel a security you haven’t felt in decades.

Joel strokes your arm absently, kissing your shoulder only once before his head is back on the pillow, the two of you watching the moon hanging low in the sky. From where you lay you can see the roof of Joel's house. You think of how this started and you hold in a laugh.

"Sometimes I'd watch your house as I was falling asleep," he tells you, feeling bold in the darkness. "If your light was on I felt like everything was okay in the world. S'like your light was my moon."

You smile at that. Under the covers you're both warm, your hair damp. It feels domestic, not rushed or dirty. It makes you feel vulnerable as your bodies press next to one another in the bed.

You look behind you at Joel in the blue darkness, your hand brushing an errant curl from his forehead as you twist to face him. Your mouth finds his again and you sigh as your lips move against one another.

You assume that this is when he'll fuck you or at least make gentle love to you, but he does neither. He just holds you, bringing you against his body and curling around you, as if he's protecting you from the elements. It seems natural to him, to be a protector.

"You told me you weren't a good man," you whisper to him in the darkness. "But I think you might be."

"I'm not. I've done terrible things," Joel grimaces. "You know firsthand."

He strokes your hair, hand heavy before he continues.

"I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I.... I didn't know how to act. I'd wanted you so fucking long and you were there and I couldn't help myself. But s'not a good reason. I was a fucking asshole. I don't blame you for hating me."

"I don't hate you Joel," you say with honesty. "Don't hate anyone, really."

"That's what I lo- like about you," Joel says, voice catching. "Not a mean bone in your body."

"I dunno about that," you shrug. "Took great pleasure in refusing to dance with you the other night."

You can hear Joel smile at that behind you. "S'okay. I deserved it."

The silence stretches on a little longer.

"I'd say yes," you say in a quiet voice. "If you asked me again."

Joel doesn't reply, but he pulls you tighter against him, burying his face in your damp hair.

You've never slept with someone in this bed. You think that it will be a hardship and you're shocked at how easily you fold into his embrace, how calm you feel and you drift into a peaceful slumber.

When you wake up the next morning he's still asleep, dark lashes fanned over caramel cheeks. His arm is slung over your waist, as if in sleep he's worried about you leaving.

You watch him breathing slowly, his full mouth parted. You think that he looks so peaceful like this, so open. You can't help yourself and you graze a kiss against his lips.

Joel's eyes flutter open to see you staring at him with glossy eyes. His mouth curls into a sleepy smile and he brushes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek.

"Mornin' pretty eyes."

His voice is low and rumbling with sleep. It's a sound that feels good in your ear. A sound that travels down between your legs and pulses.

You kiss him again, a little longer this time. His hand is at your jaw, holding you lightly. There's no harshness in how he touches you now. You pull back, resting your head on the pillow next to his.

You both gaze at one another, eyes locked. You think you can see eternity in the dark galaxy of his gaze.

There's something about this moment that feels safe to you. Safety. And something else. Something that feels too early to speak aloud. A feeling that eluded you for so long. Tears spring along your waterline.

"Joel .. I-" you don't know what to say or how to say it. But Joel understands because he feels the same. His smile turns serious and you watch as his own dark eyes begin to grow damp.

"I know, baby," Joel rumbles. "I know."

With tears in your eyes your mouth seeks his out again, your hands going to his bare shoulders and gripping.

He holds you against his chest, both of you kissing for what feels like hours. He holds your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. As if he's trying to atone for all those times he never kissed you, never cherished you properly.

"I want you," Joel murmurs against your ear as you nestle against him. "Want you to read with me on my couch in front of the fire and sit next to me at those movie nights. I want everyone to know you're my girl. Wanna make up for all those times I was an idiot. Wanna make you laugh and smile like you used to. Can I?”

Your heart expands, your own hands cupping his cheeks. This man that you've wanted, that you've denied yourself wanting. He's looking at you with those big eyes, the ones that often seem so sad and so serious.

"I want that too," you murmur. "Want you to teach me guitar too. Promise I won't hide it anymore."

Joel grins against your lips, recalling how all of this first began. He licks into your mouth as you whimper, the desire for him overwhelming you. There will be more discussions, more moments where Joel will fight to prove himself worthy of you. But for right now you simply want him.

Languid movements against each other turn into both sets of hands seeking bare flesh and moments later after your gentle urging of a condom into his hand, Joel raises himself above you, mouth on yours as he slides between your thighs slow and sweet, murmuring how much he wants you, adores you. His voice holds you, warms you as you keen, arching against him.

He takes his time, brushing the thankful tears from your eyes with his lips. You kiss his away from the corner of his eyes. He watches your body move underneath his with awe, as if he's actually seeing you for the first time. In a way it's like you both are.

And much like the bath last night Joel holds you tenderly, makes you feel beloved. He doesn't take, he just gives, over and over kissing praises into your skin, pressing devotion between your legs.

"I want you to take it," he whispers against your neck as your thighs bracketing his hips begin to tremble. "It's all for you, pretty eyes. Everything."

You know what he means.

When you two fall back against your pillow breathing unsteadily a short while later you can't help but smile in disbelief. You tilt your head to see that Joel is doing the same and you roll into his waiting arms, giggling.

Your window stays unlocked after that.

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