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#but i don’t really want to think too muc
cometrose · 14 days
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finally got a copy of the ballads of songbirds and snakes and since i talked about my mockingjay read through i might as well talk about this especially cause i didn’t watch the movies
anyway i’m like 25% through and i feel so conflicted about Snow he’s so complex (like we all are) and i know he’s a bitch but it’s kind of neat to see that youthful idealism peaking through at times (or the cruelty of his heart) but it’s also a very interesting dialogue to see how the games were represented at the beginning and what they look like by the time they end
people don’t like the games they don’t watch it people in the capital can openly disagree with it without harsh punishment but what does that matter when we see 60 years later that these games are the celebrated most beautiful time of the year
ugh it makes my heart feel icky
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tsumtsumrry · 8 months
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Doctor's Orders
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before i say anything else, huge thank you to @victoria-styles for the idea and inspiration, i really hope you enjoy.
WC: 2.8k
warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (fingering), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (just a work of fiction if your gyno starts to finger you please call the cops lol)
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Your eyes and ears are completely tuned in to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall next to the big flat-screen TV. You obsessively check the time every couple of minutes in anxiety that your appointment will come sooner than you thought. 
As soon as you made the appointment you regretted it. You’re an incredibly shy person, you keep to yourself and your two friends that you made in college who never strayed. And you know that it’s so dumb and so childish and irresponsible, but the mere idea of having to go to a place where a person sticks something up your parts is just too much for you. 
Your fingers are starting to feel raw from picking at them and you tilt your head up to the ceiling and blow out a frustrated breath. You wish your anxiety didn’t make doing everyday, human things so difficult for you. It’s even worse that the only time you’ve come to the gynecologist, it’s for something you deem kind of embarrassing. 
One day, you got home from work, exhausted and irritated, you got under the covers, imagined your favorite sexy scenario, waited for the sparks, and…nothing. Just nothing. It felt like you were trying to finish for hours and hours and you got nothing. And since then, nothing’s been able to do it for you. And for some anxiety-boggotten reason, you absolutely refuse to buy a sexy toy online or anything like that. Some crazy part of your mind thinks that the Amazon driver knows exactly what you would have in there and you can’t bear to see their face when they hand you your package. 
So after a grueling couple of months, you finally caved, and here you are, at the gynecologist. 
The sound of a door opening tears your attention away from the clock, and your heart immediately drops, a pit forming deep in your stomach. You almost want to squeeze your eyes shut and cross your fingers in hopes that your name isn’t called, but you’re in public, so you don’t. Instead, you hold your breath and look at the lady who just came out, praying that it isn’t you. 
She calls your name. You release a breath. 
“That’s me.” Your voice comes out shaky. She’s looking down at her tablet as you walk up to her but when she looks up, it’s like she notices your nervousness and gives you a sympathetic but encouraging smile. 
She takes you back and sits you down in a chair, “just gonna take your vitals, honey.” Her voice is soothing, like a mother, and you’re glad she’s the person you’re interacting with before the doctor that you’re so scared about. You look around the room as she does her work and you notice, the place is decorated really nicely. As if it had a woman’s touch. You know that more than one doctor works here, but you wonder if yours is going to be a woman, honestly that would make you feel a little better. 
She finishes rather quickly after asking you some questions about your medical history and things of the sort, and then her cadence changes, “Is it okay if I touch you?” She asks. You frown in confusion but nod. She places her hand on your arm and squeezes, “I know that this is your first time and I can tell that you’re really nervous, but trust me, Dr. Styles is the best we’ve got. He’s incredibly professional and kind, he’ll make you feel comfortable. And it’s better for you if you relax anyway.” She smiles gently, giving your arm one last squeeze before she picks up her stuff and walks towards the door.
Before she leaves, she turns around, leaning against the slightly ajar door, and shoots you a teasing smirk, “I’ll make sure to tell him to be extra gentle with you, dear.” And with that, she leaves. She’s sweet. And she definitely made you feel much better about the whole thing. 
It’s only a couple minutes of just a little internal freaking out before the door opens and your senses are automatically overtaken with a waft of strong cologne. 
“Alright…what do we have here…ah!” Your name falls perfectly from his lips, and an involuntary smile graces your face at his apparent goofy nature and the smile only grows when he grins back at you, dimples poking in his stubbly cheeks. 
“How are you feeling today? Hannah told me you were looking a bit nervous before. Has any of that subsided or do I need to do some breathing exercises with you?” He quips brilliantly. I guess being a doctor he’s well aware that laughter is the best medicine.
“I’m doing okay, actually. Much better.” Your voice comes out soft, unable to get it any louder than that. He gives you an approving smile and then offers his hand out for you to shake it. 
“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “...basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.
You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable. 
“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response. 
“Oh um…it’s nothing really just a very minor issue…” his eyes flick down to the movement of you fidgeting with your fingers and he presses his lips together and sighs, he looks up at you for permission before he takes your hands in his and starts to press them out with his.
 “This is okay, yeah?” he questions softly, nodding along with you when you nod, “I absolutely need you to relax, darling. This’ll be so much easier if you’re relaxed and calm. Need you to loosen up. Do that for me?”
You nod and try your best to follow his instructions. Something about his hands on yours and his gentle voice filling your ears only makes it that much easier. And you have a feeling he knows that. 
“There you go, honey. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.” 
“I just…ever since like a month ago, I haven’t really been able to um…finish. And ever since then I’ve barely been able to get turned on… or wet. Is that normal? Because I was fine before but all of a sudden I just…couldn’t anymore. It just feels like something might be wrong with me.” You let out a huge breath after you’ve finally revealed your problem. And as much as it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, it also terrifies you what his reaction is going to be. 
He doesn’t even blink. You imagine he’s dealt with things like this before, and you’re not surprised that he has little to no reaction. It’s literally his job. You figure you shouldn’t have been this nervous to begin with.
“Don’t worry m’darling. We’ll figure it out.” he coos, his thumbs rubbing softly on your knuckles, “alright. Let’s get started shall we?” 
You had already put your surgical gown on before he got here so all he has to do is lift the bottom up and get to business. And that’s exactly what he does. He puts his gloves on and lifts your gown on, his brows furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed in a cute pout.
He feels around, brushing his fingers through your folds. You jerk when his fingers brush your clit in a feather-light touch. He rolls his lips into his mouth briefly and you suddenly wish a hole would open right now and swallow you into the floor. You try not to, but you can’t stop ogling his concentrated face. He bites the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes slightly as he takes a closer look, “s’perfect, honey. Everything looks fine.” 
“Gotta figure out what’s going on with you though, hm?” He looks you right in the eyes as he says it, his hand resting on your thigh dangerously close to your cunt and you nod quickly, taking deep breaths in as quietly as you can. Something about the way he’s looking at you, handling you, talking to you, it’s got your stomach warming, and your core tingling in a way that you’ve sorely missed. He’s touching you like he wants you.
He gently talks you through the speculum, using his hand rubbing softly on your thigh and his voice to calm you down. After he’s done he praises you softly and heat blooms in your chest.
“Still shy on me?” he teases, turning around. He starts to fiddle with his things on the desk, picking a bottle of lube and squeezing it on his finger. You immediately hold a breath. This is the part where he’ll actually be inside you. All words that you could have said in response to his teasing are immediately stolen from your lips, all you can do is wait there in anticipation as he gets himself ready for you. 
“M’kay, darling”, he returns to you, placing his free hand on your thigh, “just gonna check on you. That okay?” 
“Mhm.” You feel like an idiot, unable to speak to your literal doctor because for some reason he’s got you feeling things you haven’t felt in months. 
“I’d prefer it if you used your words.” 
“Yes, Dr. Styles.” You manage to get the words out and he offers you a proud grin. When he pulls your gown up again, he sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating. He looks back up at you and it’s like you can feel the condescension in his gaze before he even opens his mouth. 
“Oh honey…nothing’s wrong with you.” He strokes his finger through your folds, eyes honed in on your cunt and a far-away look in his eyes as if he’s mesmerized by it. He presses his fingers at your entrance and you suck in a breath, “you’re okay, honey. S’okay.” He soothes you as he slowly slides his finger in. Both of your mouths part from the tight stretch. A soft puff of breath leaves his lips and a soft moan leaves yours. 
The second the sound leaves your mouth, your cheeks flame in embarrassment, you whisper out a slew of apologies and he only shushes you. His thumb on his free hand stroking your thigh soothingly. His finger leaves you until it reaches the knuckle, then it pushes right back into you, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat. 
“Shh shh. Just takin’ care of you like I’m supposed to.” He curls his finger up inside of you and a shaky moan leaves your throat. As soon as he hits that sensitive spot inside you, it’s like all of the orgasms you could’ve been having in the past few months come back to consume you tenfold. Your jaw hangs open as he starts to move his fingers faster, playing with you like a damn fiddle. 
“How’s that feel, honey? Feels like you’re better already. Made such a mess and you’re already squeezing me so tight.” Every word that leaves his lips goes straight to your cunt, his husky deep voice releases a cage of butterflies in your stomach, and when he coaxes a second finger inside of you and adjusts his hand so his thumb rubs against your clit, it immediately feels as if you’re about to burst. 
“Oh god—Dr. Styles.” You shriek out. 
“Harry, honey. Say Harry. Say m’name while I’m making you cum.” He demands, his fingers fucking you harder and robbing the breath from your lungs. You manage to stutter out his name and an approving groan leaves his lips, “look at you, honey, following the doctor’s orders. Such a good girl.” 
The warm feeling brews in your tummy before it starts to spread and bloom in your whole body. Your body tenses up to brace yourself for the intense amounts of pleasure you know you’re about to feel and a staccato of moans leaves your bitten lips. 
“Don’t fight it, honey. Let yourself have it. You deserve this.” It’s amazing how he can expertly coax you through an expressively powerful climax with his words, he knows exactly what to say to you and what tone to say it in to make you putty in his hands, “know you’ve needed this for so long. S’been so hard, hm? Bet this pussy was aching without someone to take care of it. Let me take care of it, darling. Cum all over my fingers like I know you can.” 
You can almost taste it, it climbs and it climbs, your stomach tensing and your thighs shaking, each firm rub against your g-spot makes you crumble and it swirls and sparks in your tummy. Light tremors turn into full-body shudders when the build-up of pleasure finally explodes like an earthquake. You moan brokenly, your voice cracking as you gasp for air and let yourself feel the pleasure you’ve been missing.  
He talks you through it, leading you through the most powerful orgasm you think you’ve ever had. You instantly feel the tension leave your body with it. He takes away all the pent-up frustration and dissatisfaction with every word and movement of his hand. 
It’s when he keeps going that it begins to border on the painful side of painful pleasure. That sexy concentrated look is back on his face as he pulses his fingers faster inside you with a second wind of determination. 
A pained whine leaves your throat and your hand shoots out to grab his arm. You attempt to tug him away and squirm away from his touch, but he doesn’t relent. He uses his other hand to pin you down and your other hand shoots up to your mouth so the scream that you let out isn’t heard throughout the whole office. 
“Take it. We’ve got to make sure you’re better. Cum again for me.” Your legs shake uncontrollably. You’ve never felt pleasure so intense that it hurts before, and it’s making you feel like your brain has liquified. You fully give in to him, your body submits and you let him play with your body exactly how he wants. 
Before you know it, he’s driven you over the peak again. Your head falls back onto the exam table, thoroughly exhausted. He smiles gently at you, so innocent and nonchalant, as if he didn’t just completely ruin you on his fingers a minute before. His pointer finger brushes against your cheek before his hand cradles your face. 
“You’re all better then, yeah?” His voice is soft and comforting, it fills your tummy with warmth, and you suddenly have the urge to let him talk to you sleep as he holds you right here on the exam table, “think you’re my new favorite patient.” He whispers with a smirk.
He lets you get up and shakily put back on your clothes. And in all honesty, you’re surprised you can walk right now.
He took such good care of you. You naturally feel indebted to him and you start to thank him but he just holds up his hand and stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 
“No need to thank me, darling. Just doing my job.” He assures. “The only thanks I need is you coming back here next time you need my help.” 
After all your stuff is packed and you’re walking towards the door of the exam room, his voice stops you. You turn around to face him and you’re met with his gorgeous face. He wears a gentle smile but teasing eyes. When he speaks you immediately know that his words have promise written between the lines.
“Drive safe, honey. M’looking forward to your next appointment.”
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chuusmuts · 6 months
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imagine waking up nude beside your best friend, aether
mild nsfw at the end. writing this as a warm-up before i make a debut as a smut writer in this blog. also, to those who think you know me, no, you don't. not proofread.
edit:i just realised how shitty the grammar is so please ignore it.
you waking up beside your best friend!aether in a hotel room, completely nude after a long night of lovemaking. just like him, you don't remember a thing. though, the bruise marks on your breasts and the wetness between your inner thighs were enough proofs to confirm what happened last night. you're not going to lie that you do feel embarrassed seeing how nonchalant aether is about this, yet it quickly disappears when he pulls you into a hug, asking if you're mad and apologizing to you.
"you’re not mad at me, right?”
"no." you're not mad. you can't bring yourself to get mad, especially since he's always so nice and sweet to you.
eventually, you ask him how is he so calm about all this. but you found the answer right away after you buried your face into his chest, putting your ear near where his heart is located. he's not calm at all, his heart is pounding just as fast as yours. he's nervous, a lot more nervous than you. he's just putting on a calm facade so you wouldn't feel awkward around him.
he began to stroke your hair gently, lovingly before he spoke up, his voice softens even more, “i… i like you a lot. and last night… it was really great. i don’t regret a thing. you… made me feel so good last night.”
your cheeks flushed when he mentioned how good you made him feel. the fact that he didn't remember what happened last night, but remember how good he felt buried deep inside you make you feel shy.
but at the same time, you wish you could make him feel good again. "i wish we could do it again... sober. i was drunk, so i couldn't experience it properly..." your face was still resting against his chest, but you were pouting slightly. you're not a lightweight person, so it's really a shame you got drunk on a special night. (although, you wouldn't be making love with him if you weren't drunk since you'd be too busy dragging his ass home.)
his eyes seem to light up at your wish. he kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. you can feel his body heat up, and from his breathing, you can tell that he's not so calm and collected anymore. “... are you in the mood?”
a pair of curious eyes bore into aether's golden eyes. you want to do it again, but you don't want to tire him. and what if he sees you as someone who's desperate? especially since you just did it with him last night.
regardless of what you think of yourself, aether thinks you're too cute to look desperate. even if you are, you still look cute.
before the two of you realised, your lips connect with one another. a shiver runs throughout your body from how good his lips feel. your heart flutter and you can feel butterflies in your stomach as your hand found themselves on his soft cheeks.
aether’s ears turn bright red as he moves slowly on top of you, his lips never leaving yours. letting the duvet off of you and him, his warm, golden eyes look over you, taking in as much as he can. he moves his lips from yours, dragging his tongue along your neck and kissing every inch of you, emitting a content sigh from you.
he pauses and moves lower down on your body, gently kissing and sucking on your chest. his fingers run through your hair, carefully stroking you while his free hand grab and fondle with your breast, making you moan in pleasure. he doesn't intend on going rough, his priority is to pleasure you and he wants you to enjoy it as much as you can. aether smiles, his eyes twinkling as he sees the effect he has on you.
“i… i love you so much… you’re so pretty, and so cute… and just thinking about you makes me want you so bad.” he says before kissing your neck again.
he takes one of your hands and kisses up your arm, and puts it on top of his chest. “touch me… i wanna see how much i make you want me.” he whispers, his voice sounding needy.
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ferrstappen · 1 year
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loving him is red l Charles Leclerc Imagine
a/n: it’s been YEARS since I've written something but I have too many ideas and time so I'll give it a try again <3 any feedback is appreciated and than you for reading <3
also, of course the only song I could think of is Red by Taylor Swift (taylor’s version ofc)... I mean... how could I not?
genre: fluff.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female singer!reader.
summary: Charles’ girlfriend receives her first Grammy for Song of the Year, sadly enough the inspiration behind the song isn’t able to make it to the ceremony.
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“This feels so wrong, I should be there to support you... You’re always here for races and shit” Charles said while watching her get ready on a fancy hotel room, meanwhile he was stuck in Maranello. 
“Please don’t, it’s pre-season and all that, you know they needed you there today. Plus, I'll be home by tomorrow so we can celebrate... or you can console me since I'm probably losing anyway.” (Y/N) quietly said the last part while sipping some expensive sparkling wine her assistant brought to the room. 
“You are not losing! Babe, how many times do I need to tell you that?” Charles sounded truly exasperated with his girlfriend, like he truly had told her many many times. 
Truth be told, she never thought she would be considerate at all. Yes, her label had submitted her second album and the first single of the record, but they were almost obligated to do so, it was an unspoken rule in the music industry that you just had to do the entire “for your Grammy consideration” portfolio if you wanted to be taken seriously, but (Y/N) never really thought the song she first released from her album would be such a hit. 
Honestly, they just were words her heart could think of whenever she saw Charles, because he truly was red... In the way he wore the color so proudly, from the way his car was always a shiny red even when he was driving it in the driest of the deserts, to the way he loved her so passionately, fearlessly and undoubtedly... He was red. 
It never made sense to her that millions around the world would mix her lyrics on Ferrari t-shirts or that fans would wait for Charles on the stands with bright red lyrics of the song. 
He loved it, by the way. He would flush a bright red whenever someone on the grid teased him about it, pretended he was shy about everyone knowing those words were for him, but his heart would sing a little every single time he listened or read the verses meant for him, just as he would make sure the camera would capture your cute face over FaceTime when he got a podium and you couldn’t be here, or how he made sure to tell you his best joke when you’d arrive to the paddock holding hands, loving the way the photographers captured your laugh and the glint in his eyes just by being the reason of your smile. 
He had the superior relationship and he just knew it, and he made sure the rest of the word knew it as well. 
“So, are you finally going to show me the dress?” Charles said while putting his headphones on to ignore the world outside of his driver’s room.
She cheekily smiled. “No, not really” She told him, earning a dissatisfied groan from him.
“Then when do you want me to see it? On TV like the rest of the world?” He argued, his accent getting thicker.
“Actually yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” (Y/N) was going to keep talking, but her assistant let her know the dress had just arrived and they needed her full attention. 
“No, I heard that! You can mute me and I’ll just watch over here!” Charles pleaded, earning a heartily laugh from her girlfriend. 
“I’m so sorry, bebé. I have to go, but you can watch me on TV though!”
Charles sighed, unable to hide his grin. “You know I'll be glued, I don’t care about the time or anything,” even through his noise-cancelling headphones he could hear a big commotion outside his room, meaning someone would come knocking on his door soon. He took a deep breath before focusing his eyes on his muse again. “I love you so much, chérie. I’m so proud of you and whatever happens tonight doesn’t change that. Please whatever you need I'll have my phone at all times, I’m capable of stoping the car in the middle of nowhere and you know it,” they both laughed. “I’m right there with you, I love you.”
She repeated the same words over and over again, feeling a bit numb as several people helped her fitting the red Maison Valentino dress to perfection. It was a whirlwind from there, the last glance she took of herself in the mirror was to make sure the small prancing horse shaped stud earrings, a nod to her man watching on tv.
As if writing a Grammy nominated song and almost an entire album about him wasn’t enough...
Her hands couldn’t help the tingling on the palm of her hands, her body knowing she was missing her other half; he always needed to fix his tie or style a stubborn strand of hair, and it always calmed her nerves to take care of him. 
Back in Italy, Charles was anxiously watching the TV in front of him, some friends, including Carlos, were sitting around the living room, mindlessly chatting about some of the artists performing on the Grammys, what were the plans for the night, the next Real Madrid game...
But Charles eyes were trained on his girl smiling in front of the TV, feeling giddy as she gracefully walked down the carpet on her silky red dress, eyes shining and smile intoxicating. 
The night flew by and Charles swore he could feel your hand squeezing his as they announced the category he had been waiting for. Harry Styles was on the stage with the envelope.
Everything went by so quickly, Charles didn’t notice his friends had shut up and were with their eyes trained on the TV. They all collectively gasped when the brit announced Red by (Y/N) as the song of the year. 
Then it was just noise; from the TV, from people cheering on the theatre as she hid her face on the palm on her hands, to the living room where Charles had rose to his feet hugging everyone around him.
To anyone on the outside it would’ve seemed like their country had won the World Cup. 
“God, I don’t know how to begin,” She shakily said while holding the gramophone. “I know I’m supposed to say that this is for my fans and my label and everyone who believed in me, and it is but...” She smiled to herself. “This is for you, the inspiration behind every word, every verse, every note. My incredible boyfriend who makes my heart sing and my life happy. They haven’t invented the words to tell you how much I love you,” She could feel tears building on the corner of her eyes, until she saw a stage producer informing she only had ten seconds left to wrap up her speech. “God, just ten seconds? Thank you so much to everyone, Char I love you with my entire heart, and thank you to everyone for this I’ll always have this moment in my heart, even after I’m gone I’m sure this is gonna be engraved. Thank you!”
The camera captured her glistening eyes as she smiled through the lens. Charles had unshed tears as his heart was beating loudly. Only seconds passed until his phone was vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call. 
“So... Did you like the red dress?” She joked and he laughed through the unshed proud tears. He never knew he could feel so much pride and love for another person. 
He chuckled. “I loved it, and I love you so much words cannot explain. Fuck, how come I wasn’t there?”
Their love was red.
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softlyspector · 8 months
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Blush
Summary: All you do is want, while Joel worries he won't ever be enough.
Find out how it started: You put aside your touch aversion for a tattoo from Joel.
Pairing: tattoo artist!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Word count: ~9.2k
Warnings: slow build, no outbreak tattoo!au, just the barest hint of angst/argument, the ‘believes they’re hard to love, loving them is like breathing’ trope, tattoos and getting tattooed (the process isn’t really described), reader is touch adverse, vague mentions of a past abusive relationship, insecurity, self confidence issues, abandonment issues, anxiety, lots and lots of intimacy and touching, mentions of arousal, Joel gets to have both his daughters in this
A/N: Hello, so here we are at the final part of this lil four part thing. This fic owns a piece of my heart now, and I hope it's found somewhere to live in yours too. It's special for a lot of reasons, but the support its gotten has really been something incredible. Thank you for being so kind and lovely.
Once again, we’re ignoring canon and pretending like Joel can draw for this fic, thank you. Thank you for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback!
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“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” 
Joel glances up at you from where he’s kneeling on the floor. A lock of gray hair falls to the middle of his forehead. You reach down, without thinking, and push it back into place, letting your fingers trail through his hair. He always wears it so carefully parted to the side, especially now that he’s let it grow out a little longer. 
You picture him standing in front of the mirror in his bathroom brushing his hair and feel something warm and fluttery beat against your ribs. 
The image comes easily because it’s not something you have to imagine but remember—Joel tilting his chin down, eyes on his reflection in silvery morning light. 
Pink stains the tips of his ears when you let his hair slip softly from between your fingers. 
“Yeah, I did,” he disagrees before laboring to his feet. You hook one hand beneath his elbow and help him up. His knees pop and he hisses. “It’s past due we fixed it, anyhow. Past time I let you get back to your own life,” he continues, not pulling his arm away from your hand as he stoops down to shove the screwdriver in his hand back into the toolbox on the floor.
You like the way he says we. 
You rub your thumb against the inside of his elbow as he straightens again with a groan that means his back is aching again. “Well, now you get your house back to yourself,” you tease. 
“Ain’t like you’re trouble to have around,” he grumbles. 
You keep a steady pressure on his arm, because you like the way his skin feels under your hand, warm and pliant, like he’s been in the sun. You like the way you can feel the shift of muscle and the micro jump of tendon beneath your fingertips. 
You don’t like admitting to yourself that you like touching him, that you like the way he lets you hold on to him but so rarely tries the same with you. 
But, you’ve come to realize over the last week, where you shy away from touch, Joel craves it; he’s positively starved for it. He tries his best to hide that he wants for anything at all, but you see it. 
He would never ask for anything from you; it’s anathema to who he is, to ask for care. He’s stubborn and a little proud. 
When the locks that fit your door weren’t in stock at the local hardware store and Joel insisted on you staying with him until they came in, you saw that want first hand. 
He’d been busy for so many years—with work and his kids and his business and his brother. He’d lived in a busy house with a revolving door of people who constantly needed him. And now, he lives alone and away from his kids. His schedule is one he sets for himself, with easy, quiet days. His girls are busy, Tommy has his own family, and his house is empty. 
Maybe Joel would never admit it, but he is lonely.  
Staying with him for a week had shown you just how much he wanted—touch and companionship and company—and just how absolutely solitary his days were, especially in the evenings. Guilt like a tide had washed over you. How closely he paid attention to you, how cautious and watchful and giving he’s been, and you haven't really done the same. You haven’t tried to give him anything, to meet him somewhere in the middle. You hadn’t even thought of it. 
“Thank you for letting me stay with you this week,” you say, releasing his arm to press your hand against his spine, rubbing gently. It’s easier that way, you find, subtly giving, easing hurts he wouldn’t admit to. “And for changing the locks. You’re too good to me.” 
“No trouble,” he assures you again, quickly. “It’s too quiet without my girls livin’ with me. It was nice. Havin’ you around.” He clears his throat and bushes past the admission. “Anyhow. I’ll let you get settled back in.”
You frown at him, but Joel only puts an arm around your waist and leans in to press a kiss to your temple and then your cheek. “You call me if you need somethin’. Anything.” He says it against your skin, his lips warm and slightly chapped. “Even for nothin’.”
You close your eyes and absorb that affection, let it sink deep into your body, into your blood and bones, the ventricles of your heart. 
For a moment, all you can feel is him breathing against you—the patient, steady rise and fall of his breath—before he starts to pull away. You don’t want him to go, you aren’t ready to be parted from him. 
You aren’t ready to let him go. 
“Joel,” you say and cup your hand around his wrist to keep him in place. “Wait. Why don’t you come in? For some coffee?” 
He meets your eyes, searches your gaze for a long moment there in the doorway of your apartment. His brows relax, his mouth softens, and you know he knows exactly what you’re doing, that he’s been found out. He thinks it’s pity and not cloying sweetness, not needling want and a building codependency that you don’t particularly mind driving your request. “Sweetheart—”
“Please? I don’t want to be alone just yet.” 
A few pleading words are all it takes for him to crumble. He nods and relents, “All right. Just for a minute, I have a client this afternoon.” 
“Okay,” you nod and pull him inside. You snap the door shut behind you and make a show of locking your brand new locks.
 Joel rolls his eyes at you, but doesn’t comment, settling himself at your kitchen table instead, toolbox tucked between his feet on the floor. The morning light paints him in sunburst orange and bumblebee gold, rays falling like a halo around him. He taps his fingers against the muraled, painted surface of the table, tracing the lines with one blunt nail. 
Unfamiliar want bubbles up in you again. You want to touch him again.
Already. 
You just let go of him.  
It’s an ache, right in the center of your chest. It feels like something pulsing and raw, infectious and torn. 
You’d like to plant yourself against his side and sit in the brutally warm, fall Texan sun shining so innocently through the slats of your blinds. 
Cured. Clean. 
That’s what you’d be, if you allowed yourself to reach out and grab it. 
Instead, you cup your hands against the sides of his face and stroke your thumbs over his graying beard. 
You half expect him to pull away, to jolt out of your hands, like you would. And though he does look startled, he doesn’t pull away. Hazel eyes flick up to meet yours. You trace the scar on the bridge of his nose with one finger. “Thank you,” you say again, just so he’ll hear it even if he won’t respond to it. “You don’t have to worry about me but you do.”
He pulls one of your hands away from his face and nods, staring down at the lines on your palm before he hooks your pointer fingers together. “‘Course I have to.” 
You keep stroking his cheek, the soft bristles of his beard catching on your fingertips. “Of course,” you say. “It’s what you do.” 
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Joel thinks you look beautiful. He also thinks you look wistful, with later October light falling in drafts around your shoulders—merigold, sunshine, sepia. 
For once, you aren’t looking back at him. Joel catches you looking at him all the time now, mostly at his hands, chancing glances from the corner of your eyes  like he would mind you looking. If he thought more of himself, he’d probably say you look at him with a dreamy cut to your gaze.
Your feet are propped on the porch railing. Your jeans and scuffed sneakers are splattered with bright splotches of paint. His guitar is across your lap and Ellie is next to you, teaching you, he supposes. Or at the very least correcting you occasionally as the two of you talk. You say something and she tilts back with a full bodied laugh. 
You’d worked with Sarah and Ellie all day, painting the chicken coop in bright swatches of pastel blush and lavender. It sticks out something awful, but he’d said you could paint it however you wanted and he meant it. 
Any way Joel cut it, he was outvoted three to one anyhow. 
He thinks you probably let Sarah influence the color palette more than you let on, and that makes something ache deep in his chest. 
Joel’s not exactly good at saying what he feels, he knows that. He’s always known it. 
But he can build you a chicken coop. He can fix your locks and your door and worry about your safety and drive to get you in the middle of the night. He can sketch out tattoo designs until his wrist aches and make you a million cups of coffee. 
And you decided to share part of what he gave you with Sarah and Ellie. Whether you know it or not, it means something to him. It brings a tight feeling to the back of his throat. 
Though the afternoon is mild, you��re wrapped up in a flannel over your t-shirt. It’s his flannel from that first night he spent at your kitchen table; the one you haven’t given back and that he doesn’t want back. 
Joel keeps his eyes on you as he finishes up the last of the chores that needed doing. His back is aching again, a flare of pain that starts at the base of his spine and ends behind his ears. 
It was lucky, maybe, that you’d convinced him, in your offhand way, to get chickens instead of horses, that he decided that was the best thing to give you. He isn’t sure he could keep up with much more than what he has. 
“You’re staring again,” Sarah says from behind him.
“I’m not,” he snaps.
“It’s okay to stare at your girlfriend, dad,” she says and he can hear the laughter in her voice, the damn teasing. 
Joel winces. “That is not—we ain’t—” Not yet. You aren’t anything yet. Maybe not ever. 
You’ve bloomed in the last month or so. Opened up, shiny and blush bright. You’re still that watchful little doe, but now you’re one that recognizes something kind. 
Not so skittish, not so afraid. 
And that’s good, that’s something. But he worries. Worries you’ll start to see he’s nothing but an old man waiting around for his kids to visit, for his brother not to be busy with his family, for you to pay him any mind. 
You surely noticed it weeks ago when you stayed with him those few days, all that painful, solitary loneliness that happened so quickly. Maybe you’d noticed it earlier than that, when you stopped coming by the shop after your first tattoo and his days went lonesome again too. It’s not like he has been subtle about how much your absence smarted. 
He’s not sure when his life slowed down so much, when he suddenly looked around and realized he missed the noise.
Maybe he’s been the one to pry you open, but if you wanted something better for yourself, something more, he’d have to let you go. It doesn’t diminish all that time he’d spent gaining your trust, that trust he’s still trying to grasp at some days. He doesn’t want you to be burdened by his loneliness, to feel weighed down with it, to feel trapped by it, to feel like it’s your responsibility. 
Joel already worries that’s already the case, with how often you’d ended up at his house in the evenings over the past month. But he isn’t strong enough to make you stop. 
Still, he could never live with himself, if he were next in a long line to make you feel helpless and trapped. 
Sarah rolls her eyes and herds the second stubborn goat into the barn and shuts the gate. “If you say so,” she says. “I’m gonna get Ellie and head out. Busy day tomorrow.” 
“Okay, baby girl,” Joel says. Sarah fits herself into his arms and he presses a kiss to her hair. “Thanks for the help. Be safe.” 
She pulls away and nods, jogging across the yard without looking back to hop the little fence that separates it from the driveway. He watches Sarah say goodbye to you, the way your mouth lifts in a smile, the way you move the guitar from your lap and lean forward when she climbs the steps to give you a hug. 
Ellie gives you a much briefer hug, one armed and slightly stiff before she follows Sarah. He lifts a hand to her, knowing Ellie won’t come over and say goodbye the way Sarah does. She pulls a face at him and waves back as she climbs in the car.
When they disappear in a cloud of red dust at the end of the drive, you lean back and stare down at the guitar again, adjusting the positioning of your fingers on the strings as though nothing of note just happened. 
Maybe, nothing of note has happened. 
You’d hugged them so easily, smiled at them so warmly. He’s grateful for it, that ease you have with them, that you feel safe and secure. It makes something warm and protective and territorial for all three of you settle in around his ribs.
His girls and you. 
Your mouth pulls down at the corners as he watches you clumsily reposition your other hand along the frets. 
He tries to repress a smile and glances away from you to continue his work. A poorly struck chord followed by a frustrated sigh echoes across the yard. 
You ain’t exactly a natural with the instrument, though you try. 
Joel taught Sarah and Ellie to play when they were young. He taught Tommy, when their mother didn’t have time to. He’s happy to teach you now, too. 
More notes float on the air, curl into the whispering leaves that skitter along the drive. You aren’t doing so bad, he thinks, when the music suddenly stops. 
He turns to peer over his shoulder at you. 
You’ve taken your feet off the railing and have folded your arms along it instead, chin leaning on your forearms, head tipped to the side, guitar propped between your knees. “Joel?” 
“Honey?” He answers, and you smile. The effect is like being lit from the inside out. You brighten and there’s sunshine in his soul, in all the dark places in his chest. 
“Will you play for me?” You uncross one arm to hold your hand out to him, like you could reach him from there if you tried hard enough. 
“You were doin’ just fine at it,” he calls back, escorting the chickens as gently as he can into their newly painted home. 
You smile at him again. “I know. But I want to hear you and it’s getting dark anyway.” 
“Guess so,” he says, wiping sweat from his brow. “Just a minute, darlin’.” 
You nod and grab the guitar again to settle it in your lap. 
The evening light is bleeding gold through the boughs of the oak that overhang the driveway, the whispers of autumnal, purpled shadows bruise the horizon as the sun sinks ever lower.
With the other goat and his lone sheep herded into the barn, he crosses back to the porch where you’ve lit a lantern and tucked yourself deep into one of the rocking chairs. The blanket he keeps folded over the back of one of the chairs is now curled over your lap. You look cozy, too warm, in the lingering heat of the day. He takes up residence next to you, picking up the guitar you’ve abandoned in his seat. “What would you like to hear, darlin’?”
It had taken a week’s worth of needling for him to play for you, but now he wants to do it all the time. 
“Whatever you want to play for me, Joel,” you say, bracing your elbow on the arm of the chair to lean your chin on your hand, eyes already closed. 
He plucks idly at the strings, watching your face. You put yourself in his hands so easily these days, without thought or worry. There’s trust in its purest form in your expression, like you’d laid yourself at his doorstep. He can’t imagine you closing your eyes like that, relaxed and at peace, even a few weeks ago. 
Joel says your name, watches your eyes blink open, the peaceful little spell broken. You pull back, sitting up straight. Doe eyes meet his, round with question. “Joel?” 
“I just wanted to say how pretty you look this evenin’.” 
You transform, bloom, duck your head and say nothing. The air is rose colored, heavy with the scent of magnolia. 
You aren’t exactly good at taking compliments, either. But that’s something you’re both working on. 
“Hey,” he says. You look up and lean toward him again, like you’re so ready to drop yourself into his waiting hands. 
And when he reaches for you, you do. 
Joel cups his hands against your jaw, and leans in to kiss you. Your mouth is soft against his. You taste like autumn air, and like the spiked sweet tea at your elbow. When you pull back, your eyes are oceans, like soil, like smooth, dark glass. 
You also have a dot of bright paint on your cheek that he hadn’t noticed before. 
He sweeps his thumb over it and finds it’s stuck there. 
“What?” 
“Nothin’. Got a bit a’ paint there.” He presses his thumb over it. “I like it.” 
You pout at him, watchful eyes hooked into his. “Are you ever going to play for me or are you just going to make fun of me?” 
He chuckles and releases your face. “I would never make fun of you, honey.”
“Good,” you say as he strums the strings again. “Or I’ll never paint another chicken coop for you again. Not even if your girls help.”
He likes that you tease him, that you feel comfortable enough. He smiles, stares down at the toe of his boot. “You know you didn’t have to let ‘em.” 
“Let them what?” 
“Help. Y’know, create a monstrosity,” he gestures to the monstrosity in question, the pink and purple slightly washed out against the blush of the setting sun. “I built it for you.”
Your foot nudges against his and he looks up to find you already gazing at him. There’s something vulnerable in your eyes, something soft and unafraid. “I know. I wanted them to help. I like spending time with them, Joel.” 
He nods and you smile. “Colors are kind of awful, though. Looks like one of Sarah’s old dollhouses. Thought you’d do a mural, like your table.” 
You laugh, and the sound is something he wishes he could capture, box up inside him and never release. “But it’s mine, like you said. And chicken dollhouse chic is what we were aiming for.” 
He snorts, but he feels better about it. “That so?” 
“Yeah. Now, play something for me?” You request again softly. 
Joel mentally shifts through the catalog of songs he could play for you before settling on a song. When he glances back at you, you’ve once again closed your eyes. Orange light, flippant and fleeting, has drifted across your face in a fiery bar as the sun sinks lower on the horizon. You glow in that beautiful light. 
He itches to do something other than play the guitar for you.
Although he’s painted you as a doe more times than he can count, he’s never attempted to actually capture your likeness. He could never do you justice, so he just shouldn’t try. It would be embarrassing enough, if you ever found out that you’ve been the source of all his creativity the last few months. That you are his muse. 
The plum color on the horizon has darkened, the navy of the encroaching night feathering against the tops of the trees. 
You’ve settled back into a peaceful position, eyes closed as you listen. 
He plays through a couple of songs before he glances up again and finds you watching him, your gaze focused on his hands. “Will you ever sing for me?” You ask softly, eyes flicking up to meet his. 
He hasn’t sung since his girls were little, not to anyone anyway, and not to anyone that could tell him his voice was terrible. 
Even still, he’s never been more tempted. 
“No,” he says, even though denying you anything is hard. “You don’t want to hear me sing, honey.” 
“But you have such a pretty voice,” you disagree. 
He plucks out a final note, music hovering in the air. “That just ain’t true,” he shakes his head and leans the guitar carefully against the bannister. Night has fully fallen, your face is shaded in shadow when he looks at you. “Do you want to stay with me?” 
Joel’s offered a few other times, because he always wants you to stay. That week you’d stayed with him while he waited for your new locks to come in at the hardware store had been kind to him. He’d gotten used to your presence in his house embarrassingly quick, and when he got the call that the locks had been delivered, it was like ice sliding down his spine. He’d forgotten, in just days, that you didn’t actually live with him. 
That was weeks ago. 
And since then, you haven’t stayed. 
You usually, always, decline and then he drives you home. 
But today is different. 
You reach out a hand to him and fold your fingers around his. “Yes,” you sigh. 
“Sure?” He asks, surprised. “It’s no bother to drive you home, honey.” 
“I’m sure. If you’ll have me.” 
“I’ll always gladly have you.” 
Your lips curve up, and you duck your head. “What do you want to do for dinner?” 
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Joel burns whatever he attempts to make on the stove for dinner. He turns to you, with spatula in hand and an irritated tilt to his brows, and asks if you’d like to ride into town to eat at Flu’s.
You agree, and go, still laughing when Joel pulls onto the main road. He grouses under his breath the entire way to town, but he holds your hand against the center console. And when you get to Flu’s he opens the passenger side door for you, then the diner’s door, his hand held lightly against your spine. He tucks his legs around yours under the table, knees and calves brushing together. The diner’s lights are dim and cozy. 
He looks soft, in that buttery light. The hard edges of his face ironed out, smile lines and crow’s feet divoted into his skin. He holds your hand on the table, and you watch his fingers more than his face, the rounded swell of his knuckles, the veins in the back of his hand, the knob of his wrist, on which he always wore an old watch that had long stopped ticking. When you’re apart, you find yourself daydreaming of his hands, scarred and broad and warm. 
Joel insists on paying, doesn’t let you even consider doing it. 
When you climb back into the truck, he puts one hand on your thigh and you sink back into your seat, warm and full and content. You slide your hand over his and feel the rough calluses on the tips of his fingers. 
When you close your eyes, you see him working in the sun, poking fun at you while you and Sarah and Ellie paint the chicken coop, squinting through the bright light. He still smells like sun, like warm skin and his cologne and faintly of sweat and whatever thing he’d burned on the stove earlier. 
When Joel kissed you that first time, he opened a door in you, one that’s impossible to shut and that does nothing but want. 
You’ve never craved touch like you crave his. Even when you feel like you don’t want to be touched at all, you think his hand would be tolerable, would be okay. 
You’re painfully aware that part of his appeal is knowing that he would always let you go, that he always knows when it's time to leave you be. And the times you don’t want him to touch you, have been shrinking. 
Lately, all you want is for him to fold his fingers between yours, touch the bare skin at the small of your back, to trace your spine up between your shoulder blades, or cup his palm over the back of your neck and tuck you into him. 
When you get back to his place, it’s still pretty early in the evening, and all you can think of is ways to get him to touch you again. He turns on the battery powered radio that sits on the porch, perpetually set low on an oldies station. 
You can’t look away from him, something like agony twisting in your chest, like there’s a knife between your lungs. He’s talking about something, gesturing across the yard with one hand, his other tangled with yours. Joel’s thumb strokes little circles against the back of your hand, each pass like a bolt of addictive lightning. It’s not enough. His hand in yours is no longer enough. 
Joel doesn’t protest when you pull him to his feet when a new song starts up. He gives what you don’t ask for but desperately want. He drags you into his chest and slides his arm around your back, tucking you in close to him. You can hear his heartbeat, feel it pulsing in his chest. He tilts around the porch with you for a long time, even when the music is interrupted by obnoxious ads. 
He hums along under his breath and when you slip your hands beneath his shirt to rest against his bare skin, you can feel the vibrations of his voice against your fingers. 
You wish you could sink your hands inside him, just to be a little closer. It feels so strange to want that. You’ve never been held that gently before, it loosens a knot you didn’t know existed in the core of your chest. 
And you think, even when things with your ex had been good, when he hadn’t been yelling at you or bruising you with a tattoo you didn’t want, he had never held you gently or with such love. 
When you pull back, Joel lets you go. There is no fuss about it; there is no guilt. 
Eventually, you go inside.  
He lets you shower first, just like he always had when you stayed with him before. 
After, you watch him brush his hair and then his teeth and something painfully sharp gets caught up inside your chest. It’s hard to breathe around that feeling, that ache. 
You watch him get ready for bed, and you watch him groan when he has to stoop down to pick a pair of socks up off of the floor, and you feel something more than warmth flood your heart. It unravels, spools through your veins, and it's so warm it burns.  
Joel catches you looking at him, as he often does these days. 
He smiles at you, the lines by his eyes crinkling up. He looks domestic in a heather gray t-shirt that sits loose on his frame, pajama bottoms that look as though they’ve seen a few too many years, and glasses perched on the end of his nose. “You all right?” 
You nod. “Really good, Joel.” 
That gets a little laugh out of him. “Must be worn out,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. You lie back and curl on your side, watching him adjust his pillows, admiring the shape of his hands as he goes, remembering what they looked like sun drenched and warm in the yard. He drags his knuckle over the curve of your cheek and neither you nor your body remembers to flinch away. “After all that paintin’ and gettin’ me to dance.” 
“It was fun though, wasn’t it?” You ask, suppressing the urge to trace the length of his spine through his shirt. “You liked dancing with me.” You clutch the pillow tighter to your chest and dip your chin into the fabric. 
He takes his glasses off and then finally lies down next to you. Nerves burst in your belly when he turns to look at you. “I enjoyed it very much, sweetheart.” 
“Good.” You wriggle a bit closer to him. 
He watches you and then offers a place for you to fit yourself against his side. You slide in close to him, tucking your hands between his body and yours, slotting your nose against the dip of his collarbone. 
He smells good there, like soap and something that’s purely Joel and so soothing, like sage and pine. 
“This what you been wantin’, huh?” He asks, stroking your back slowly. You stiffen but he chuckles into your hair. “I mean that in a nice way.” 
You lick your lips, feel the shift of muscle beneath your cheek as he reaches to turn off the lamp. There’s no point in denying it. “Yeah.”
“I know,” he says against your forehead. “Me, too.”
You settle against him, the feeling of his palm sliding over your shirt, up and down, tapping over your spine, soothes you. Your stomach flips when his hand drags along the bare skin at your hip. 
If you could dig a trench into his bones, take cover there, you would. And still that wouldn’t be close enough. 
“Joel,” you say, tracing your hand over his chest. 
For once, your voice seems to encourage more than caution and he doesn’t stop touching you. His hand slides higher again and your breath hitches. 
It feels so nice, like all the empty places inside you are slowly being colored in, shaded in emerald green and butter, sunshine yellow, jewel bright blue and blush pink.
You curl into him, shakily pressing the hand on his chest up to his neck. You cup your palm there and Joel turns on his side. His hair is soft and a little damp when you dig your fingers into it, the scent of him wrapping around you, cradling you close and safe. Joel touches his forehead very gently to yours, his breath fanning across your lips. 
He waits for you. 
You close the distance between you, and press your mouth to his. 
He sighs into you, his grip tightening on your waist for a moment, and you push yourself closer to the circle of warmth that is his body.  
His fingers graze the edge of your shirt, then push it up, rough palms sliding over your back again. His hand is so big, so warm, it spans your back and then covers your ribs. You gasp into his mouth when the pad of his thumb caresses the curve of your breast. 
Goosebumps erupt along your body. “Joel,” you murmur against his mouth. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “I know, honey. I got you.”  
He touches you there again but doesn’t go any further. You shiver and press your mouth back to his, tasting the mint of his toothpaste when his tongue slips into your mouth. 
Moonlight filters pale and bright into his bedroom, and when you pull away his eyes are dark, hungry. You wish you had the courage to feed that gaze, but you aren’t there yet. A stab of guilt pierces your lungs. He’s so patient with you, and you can’t help but wonder if one day that patience might run out. 
Instead of lingering on that, on wondering how much time you could possibly ask him to give, you offer him something else. “Can I show you my tattoos?” 
He blinks at you, pink, kiss swollen lips parting. “If you want.” 
“But do you want to see?” 
“Baby,” he touches your cheek, traces the line of your jaw. “I’ve been dreamin’ about it since you told me about ‘em.” 
You squirm, embarrassment crawling up the inside of your belly. “You have?” 
“Mm.” He kisses you again, his mouth lingering long against yours. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, his breath against yours. “I think about you all the time.” 
You get your knees beneath you and push up from your place beside him. Joel turns on his back when you swing one leg over his waist and find yourself, boldly, very much in his lap. His hands anchor on your hips, thumbs beneath your t-shirt.
“Oh,” you say, pressing your hands over his, something nervous wriggling in your gut. “Sorry. Is—” 
You try to move away but his grip doesn’t change. “It’s all right,” he says evenly, the barest hint of something tremulous beneath. 
Before you can think about it more, overthink being in his lap or how much of you you’re about to show him or how heavy and uncomfortable his hands might become, you release his wrists and tug your shirt up to just beneath your breasts, so your ribs are visible. 
Those feelings don’t come though. You don’t feel anxious or weighed down or wrong. 
He’s looking at you and touching you and seeing you and it's fine. It’s fine because it’s Joel. No one had ever understood you before the way he has—not your family or your friends or any previous partner. They try, but Joel just seems to know you, understand, without really trying. 
Joel clears his throat, his expression unreadable as he lifts one hand to your tattoo. When he traces the ink, you exhale against his curious fingers. It tickles. “That’s real pretty,” he says. “Antlers. It really suits you.” 
“Thank you,” you murmur. “Deer are like good luck, I think. They know things.” 
He looks at you like you’re some ancient creature he can hardly believe exists. Embarrassment claws at you but you don’t look away. “That so?” He looks at the ink again, tension slicing through the air. “Jesus you’re somethin’.” 
You don’t get a chance to respond because he meets your eyes again and asks, “Where’s the bee?” 
You laugh and the acid burn of uncertainty disappears. “How’d you remember about the bee?” 
“‘Cause I’ve been wonderin’ about it too.” He’s still absentmindedly tracing the antlers, the moss and the flowers that loop through the branches of the antlers. His expression is open now, curious and needy. “It ain’t on your hip, if I’m rememberin’ right.” 
You shift your hand to your sternum and carefully tug your shirt up a bit higher. There, nestled between your breasts, is a tiny, tiny bumblebee. “Well, ain’t that a surprise.” He shifts his hand up and covers the bee with his thumb, the length of his fingers sitting right beneath your breast.
An ocean wells up inside you, threatens to break apart your ribs. You lean into his hand, your chest warm, catching, like fire is spreading from all the places he touches you. The knuckles of his other hand drag up your side. 
You shiver under his eye, fighting the urge to look away, to tug yourself out of his grip. But the thought of losing his warm hands against you is worse, it outweighs everything else.  
“Where did you think it was?” You ask, hardly able to breathe. Everything in the world narrows down to his dark bedroom, his eyes skating over your newly revealed tattoos, milky moonlight parting the tiny space still left between you. 
“I couldn’t get it out of my head that it was on your hip.” 
You laugh and Joel keeps looking at you, his eyes flicking between your bared skin and your eyes. The room is warm, his gaze heavy. “You’re real pretty. Did I ever tell you that?” 
“Once or twice, maybe,” you smile.  
“Mm.” 
You cup one hand around his wrist, the pressure of his hand against the swell of your breast sending shockwaves through you. It’s all you can focus on, the slow sweep of his thumb against sensitive skin. You push his hand harder against you until it feels hard to breathe. 
You think about how much Joel gives you, how carefully he listens even when you don’t speak. 
He deserves to know you hear him, too. That you see what he wants, that you hear what he’s saying, and that you’re trying. 
“You show me what you think,” you say. “And I—I get it.” 
“I don’t think you do,” he says, eyes dark. He reaches for you slowly, giving you time to tell him to stop or to pull away, but you don’t. You desperately want him to keep touching you with his safe, patient, cautious hands. 
Slowly, you’re pressed back into the sheets. Joel goans, a pained sound that means his back or knees hurt and he won’t admit it. 
He settles himself against you, his body fitted against the cradle of your hips. Joel is heavy against you, but comforting. His fingers clench around yours, and for a long moment he just looks at you beneath him, starved eyes skittering across your skin. 
“You all right?” He asks gruffly, like there’s something tangled in his chest. “You say it. If you aren’t.” 
“I’m okay.” 
You reach up and touch his cheek, then the tail of his eyebrow, as he assesses you. He tilts his chin down, brows lowered heavily over his eyes. You can’t exactly blame him for being cautious. You warned him that you were hard work, and he meant it when he said he didn’t mind, that he didn’t think you were. Caring comes naturally for him. “Really. I would say it. I trust you.” 
He nods once and your chest hitches when he dips his head and presses his mouth softly against the bee and then the antlers. 
The rough feeling of his beard against your skin tingles. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, and you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Joel’s are pressed to your sides, forearms snugly against your body, warm and twitching. You settle on his shoulders, the wide planes of his back, so reassuringly large against your body. 
Then, his tongue, firm and soft, slides over your skin. Over the bee and the tips of the antlers strung through with ivy and flowers, over the underside of your breast. 
You gasp and arch against him and you suddenly know exactly where you want your hands. You tuck them against the back of his head, threading through the feathery gray strands to keep his mouth against your skin. 
Want tightens between your legs, makes your belly ache. Your nipples tighten painfully hard. A whine catches in your throat that you know he hears because he answers you with a low groan of his own against your throat when he sucks a kiss to the underside of your jaw. 
It’s overwhelming. You want to push him away and pull him closer. You want to bury yourself inside him and never look into his eyes again. You want this feeling to last forever. You never want Joel to feel lonesome again. You want him to be able to ask for what he wants, to let you give it to him. 
Your ex again, flashes through your mind, an unfair comparison. How rarely he’d kissed you, shown you affection, for just the sake of it. 
You want you want you want you want—
You want—
“I want you to tattoo the cover up,” you say suddenly. Tears salt that backs of your eyes, tightness itching at the back of your throat. You hitch your knees up around his ribs, fear that he might pull away swimming to the forefront of your mind. It’s dizzying, because your instinct has always been to move away, to put space between you and things that might hurt you. You’ve given Joel so many pieces of you; he could break every part of you, if he really wanted to. “If you still—if you want—I mean—” you stammer. 
His head lifts and your thighs clench because you want him everywhere and nowhere all at once. You want him to want you as badly as you want him, and that just doesn’t seem possible. Not in all the ways you mean anyway, the kind where you tuck yourself inside his ribs, and into the dark places in his mind, like love letters that will never be sent. 
You love him, you think. You love Joel. 
It doesn’t feel like enough. The word isn’t big enough to encompass what he makes you feel. The feelings worming around in your chest are expansive, wide as the night sky, splattered with stars and distant galaxies that have yet to be found, let alone described. 
“‘Course I want to,” he says easily. “Of course, I will.” 
“Tomorrow?” You ask breathlessly. 
“If that’s what you want, honey.” 
You nod. “It is.” You suspect you could say you wanted him to do it right at that moment, and he’d find a way to make it happen. He’d drive you to his studio in the dark. He’d sit with you until morning bruised the sky, until the peach of the sun dripped sticky sweet down the horizon. “I want you to do it. I want it to be from you.”
“All right,” he agrees. “Tomorrow mornin’ we’ll go and do it.” His hand slides down your side to your hip, then your thigh. “You okay?” 
You nod. 
“You have to talk to me,” he says. “I ain’t a mind reader.” 
“I know,” you admit. “I’m sorry I put so much on you to figure out.” 
“That ain’t what I meant.” 
“But that’s what you do. You figure me out.”
Joel pats your thigh and then presses the pads of his fingers to the hinge of your jaw. His eyes search yours for a long time, black in the low light of the room.
He kisses you until you start to fall asleep, the lazy press of his lips whispering things you can no longer hear.  
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Morning dawns bright and warm. 
Joel gets up long before you even stir. You’re curled as close to him as you can get without actually touching him, hands tucked beneath your face, lips parted softly. You’d migrated to the center of the bed, taking up space he’s not really keen on reclaiming. 
The memory of your skin against his mouth, all the other places on your body he’d like to touch and taste, is like nectar, like the sweet promise of a good dream after a long day. You aren’t ready for that though. Not yet, anyway, and that’s all right. 
But he’s only a man, and he’s painfully hard. 
Before, you were like a deer he’d accidentally come upon, skating around the rim of his peripheral vision. Now, you’re still doe-eyed and watchful, but you’re closer; you’re relaxed, lying in the shade of trees you trust, at ease. 
Your hand twitches toward him when he presses a slow kiss against your temple, the jump of tendon beneath his mouth soothing somehow. He pulls the sheet up and tucks it around your shoulders, because without him next to you the draft from the fan overhead is too cool for you. 
He takes care of himself in the bathroom without much fuss, and then feels a little bit guilty for it when you’re sleeping on just the other side of the wall. It wasn’t the first time though, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 
In the kitchen, he makes coffee just the way you like it, with a little bit of cinnamon in with the coffee grounds. The coffee creamer you like is sweet, so he sets that out with a spoon next to a pale blue mug, pours himself his own cup, and relocates to the back deck. 
The trees at the far edge of the property are still dark and skeletal, the thicket full of shadow and the buzz of night insects. 
Even at the end of October, it’s still warm. A breeze ruffles his hair, shakes the nearly naked trees and sends a cascade of brown and orange sifting to the ground. Next month it would cool off, just a little. 
He hadn’t told you when his birthday passed in September, that you’d inadvertently spent that day with him. Sarah and Ellie had tried to get him to tell you, but he hadn’t been able to stomach it. 
Dread accompanies that day. 
It hadn’t always, just since Sarah was little, like his body was braced for a tragedy that would never come. He couldn’t have you be a part of that too, though the girls had pointed out you would eventually notice his lack of a birthday, if you were around long enough. 
He’d cross that bridge if he ever came to it. It’s hard to imagine he’d get you for that long.  
It doesn’t take long for you to find him. The flood of morning sun has passed the tree line and twists dappled green and yellow circles over the deck. When you push open the back door, you have your cup of coffee in one hand and the neck of the guitar in the other. 
He’d have to get you your own. Either that, or make one for you.
“Hey,” you smile at him as you set your steaming cup down on the patio table. 
“Mornin’. You sleep okay?” 
“Mmm.”
Joel expects you to ask him to play, but you settle down in the chair next to his, your bare knee pressed against his, and adjust the instrument in your lap. 
The sound is clumsy, but beautiful and careful, when you play. Joel’s glad he decided to teach you. He just listens and watches you. Your expression is thoughtful but closed, like you’re somewhere else. That’s how he thinks too, music in hand, mind far away. He likes that look on you, until you suddenly pause and glance up. You watch him for a long moment with those doe eyes of yours, folding your arms around the body of the guitar. 
You lick your lips and his eyes flick briefly to your mouth, the plush curve of your lower lip. He hadn’t kissed you good morning. “I want to figure you out too, you know,” you say. 
You hold his gaze for just a second before dropping your eyes to the wooden floorboards instead, fidgeting like you’re repressing the urge to curl in on yourself, fold yourself away. “You got me all figured out, honey,” he assures you. 
You shake your head and lift your eyes again, tapping your nails against the wood. “You—” you pause and swallow, “You’re allowed to want things from me, Joel.” 
Something falls in his chest, like he’s missed the last step on a long staircase, gravity turned against him. 
His heart lurches up into his mouth, tangy with some unknown fear. “I do. Trust me, I do.” 
“Why don’t you ask?” 
“Honey—”
“I know,” you say softly. “I know. I know how I am and how—” you stop and flounder, frustrated for a moment. “I know I’m not easy to ask. But you. . . I don’t feel that way with you anymore; I’m not afraid anymore. And I want to be enough for you. I hope I’m not too slow about it.” You look away again. “I want you to know you can call on me, too, Joel.” 
He clears his throat but the tightness doesn’t go away. “You could never take too long. I don’t mind waitin’.” 
“But?” 
But, he’s bad at this.
But, he loves too hard, cares too much. 
But, part of him is convinced that the loneliness is deserved. Everyone seems to leave him, someway or another. He’s just preparing early for it this time. He’s never held onto a romantic relationship before, so why should this one be any different than all the ones that came before it?
He doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t want; he gives and cares and that’s why people stay. It really doesn’t have all that much to do with him, or what he wants. 
“But you don’t want anything from me?” You ask, your voice noticeably smaller, and the warm morning suddenly feels cold. 
“It ain’t that.” He should say more, but nothing else comes out, words trapped like moths inside a lamp. 
You swallow and nod, like you’re battering back your instinct to flee, to think the worst. You’ve come so far and it’s hard not to feel a little pride, that you stay, that you aren’t worried, not usually, that he’ll hurt you someway. He’s reminded of the first day he’d tattooed you, how one misplaced word was enough to have you jumping to your feet, fretful and afraid. “I like spending time with you. I like touching you. I can give that to you.” 
He doesn’t answer and you eventually continue. “You can’t protect me from the whole wide world. Not even from you. I’m making a choice. To be here with you.” And he knows you’ve seen much more than he wanted you to, that you’ve seen the interior of him, bleeding red, splattered onto everything he touches. You’ve seen the want, the need, and you’re still here. 
He’s still not sure letting you care wouldn’t end with you leaving. But he doesn’t see what other choice he has. 
“Okay. But you promise me somethin’,” he says. “Just one thing and I’ll try.”  
You tilt your head, the picture of a curious little doe, almost nosy, peering into unfamiliar woods. “What?” You ask, looking away as you set the guitar aside.  
“If you ever want somethin’ better for yourself. You tell me. And you go.” 
Your eyes snap back to his, mouth parted in shock. “Joel—”
“I’m serious,” he snaps and you recoil a little, hurt in your eyes. “You deserve better’n this. Better than a lonely old man.” 
You shoot up from your seat in a rare show of anger. And that surge of pride hits him squarely in the chest again. He’s proud of you for that. For standing up for yourself, for letting yourself be angry with him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice doesn’t raise in volume, but it is waspish, venom laced. “Better? What’s better for me than you?” 
“Honey,” he says, softens his voice. “Just ‘cause you opened up with me, don’t mean I think I get to keep you.” 
Your shoulders loosen and you step closer. When you reach out, God help him, he leans into your hand. 
Gentle fingertips run along his shoulders, bite into the knot at the top of his spine. “Keep me,” you scoff lightly. “I want you to keep me.” 
You don’t protest when he winds an arm around your waist and tugs you down into his lap. You’re warm and soft and frowning so hard at him. There’s a divot between your eyes that he wants to press his thumb over, to smooth away. Instead he takes your wrist in his hand and traces the tattoo on your forearm. “You’re the only one who’s ever wondered if they should,” you say. “You aren’t keeping anything. I’m giving you something no one else ever even tried to earn.”  
He doesn’t answer immediately, a hot fist around his words. He’d rather walk away, not talk about it, not talk about himself. But that would break all that hard won trust.  
“I just can’t have you feelin’ like I’m your problem,” he admits, voice graveled and scraping. “Like I’m holdin’ you down.”  
“It’s okay to need people,” you answer, ignoring him. “I want to take care of you too. I want to be here with you.” You slide your hand over his shoulder again. “Even if it's just like this. Especially if it's just like this.” You scratch your fingers through his hair. Sun spills around your shoulders, blinds him when he looks up at you. “I know how much you like it. And you can tell me when you need something. I’m still learning your tells.”
He chuckles at that, let’s you keep touching him, because he does want it and you don’t seem to mind so much that he’s just some lonely man. “All right,” he runs his hand up your thigh to your hip. “Promise me anyway.” 
“I promise,” you say. “To learn your tells.” 
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You make breakfast without burning anything, while Joel watches, hip leaned against the counter. His smile is soft, affectionate. 
Warmth balloons in your chest, bursts in your veins like champagne bubbles. You managed to reassure him, you managed to say what you want without feeling bad about it. 
“Lonely old man,” you burst out with a laugh. “I’m lonely and old.” 
Joel rolls his eyes when you dig your elbow into his side. “You ain’t old.” 
“Neither are you.” 
Joel buys you coffee from the little cafe you always stopped at before visiting him at the studio. He drives with his hand in yours. He opens the passenger side door for you and gestures you ahead of him into the studio. 
After going through the usual motions of disinfecting and sanitizing and picking one of the many, many, many coverup designs he’d sketched for you and getting the stencil on right, you find yourself in much the same position as the first time you got tattooed by Joel. 
Joel isn’t talking. He’s taking his time looking you over, intense and careful and muttering about that bastard that had dared lay his hands on you. He’s meticulous in everything he does, but especially when it concerns someone he cares about, when it comes to you. 
You’re lying down, studying the side of his face. He touches you without asking, and you don’t flinch once. The memory of his body against yours sends a flushed heat over your skin. Your scalp tingles with it, your toes curl with it. 
He finally seems satisfied after a few long minutes, his hand on the curve of your elbow. You nod your consent when he looks at you, tattoo gun poised in his other hand over your shoulder. “Sure?” 
“Never been surer.” You smile and then cover the hand resting on your elbow. He gives, you give back. “You don’t like it when I say thank you.” 
“I don’t,” he grunts. There's a blush beneath his beard.
You sweep your thumb against his knuckles, and think about how different that first time had been. Joel had reassured you, gave you a physical anchor you hadn’t known you needed, kind and steady and already lodged somewhere deep inside your heart.
Now you can give that back to him. 
“Okay.” 
But he knows. You know he hears it anyway.
Still, you want to say it. 
“Thank you, baby. For giving me back to myself.” 
He leans over you, and you tilt your chin up so he can kiss you. 
“Couple sessions, okay?” He croaks when he pulls away. “Don’t want to wear ya out.” 
There is nowhere in the world you’d rather be.  
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💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞
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kaleldobrev · 10 months
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You Make Me Happy
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Pairing: Dean Winchester/Fem!Reader
Summary: With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Cursing (2x), Mutual Pining, Slightly angry Dean
Authors Note: Dean just really loves Y/N and wants them to be safe | This came out longer than I expected it to be | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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“Dean, I really, really am sorry okay? I don’t know what else you want me to say. I saw a chance and I took it.” Your heart was racing to the point that you wouldn’t have been surprised if it just busted out of your chest. You dropped your duffel bag with a quiet thud at your feet.
Dean turned to you, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor of the Bunker; the sound of the drop slightly echoing unlike yours. When he looked at you, his face was hard, and his jaw was clenched. Although he had the most beautiful green eyes that you have ever seen, despite everything that he has gone through, there was always some kind of light behind them. But in this moment, there was no light behind them – they were dark, ice cold, and his stare was like a sharp knife piercing into your skin. “Sorry? That’s it?” His voice was harsh and sounded just as cold as his stare.
You had seen him mad plenty of times before, this life would do that to you, but this was the first time that you had ever seen him mad at you. Him being mad at you was something that you’d hoped that you never have to experience; because the last thing you wanted was to have Dean Winchester upset with you. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time Sweetheart,” he continued. “You did something reckless and almost got yourself killed.”
“Oh, like you’ve never done anything reckless in your life Dean.” The minute you said those words out loud, you knew in your gut that you were in trouble. Dean stepped closer to you, not breaking the cold stare that he had on you. The tension in the room was so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.
“I may be reckless, but I’m not stupid. What you did…that…that was stupid.” What you had done, you didn’t think it was reckless or stupid; you thought that it was pretty smart considering the circumstances.
The two of you had just gotten back from clearing a vamp’s nest a state over, and it was considered to be a relatively small one – only about three in the nest compared to the usual five plus. With Sam out of commission for the moment – who knew the common flu could make someone like Sam be bed ridden for days – you offered to go along with Dean. At first, Dean didn’t want you to come along because you really weren’t that experienced with vampires. You had taken one out a few years ago, but that was all there was – only one vamp one time; and this was going to be at least three, maybe more. You had reassured Dean that you were not a child and have been hunting for over a decade; something that he sometimes forgets from time to time. While in the warehouse where they were stationed, Dean got cornered by one of the vamps who had knocked his machete from his hand. You were on the top floor and there was a long chain next to you. You eyed the chain and grabbed onto it, your machete in the other hand and swung over and chopped the vamps head off, thus saving Dean. When you touched down, you thought how cool it was, but Dean on the other hand thought it was reckless of you to do something like that. The whole car ride back to the Bunker there were no words exchanged between the two of you unlike the usual banter you had; it was just the sounds of AC/DC.
“Dean, if I didn’t do my little swing and a hit trick back there with that vamp, you would have been dead.” He was closer to you now and all you could do was start backing up; Dean was starting to scare you a bit.
“And if that chain didn’t hold you? Newsflash, you would have been dead too Sweetheart.” There was so much anger building up inside of him. A part of him was grateful for what you did, another part was impressed that you were able to pull off something like that, but the strongest part of him was angry that you risked your life like that, not fully knowing if your little plan was going to work or not. “I’m fucking awesome! Did you see that?” You said to him, the biggest smile plastered on your face. Truthfully, when he saw you do that, he had wanted to kiss you in that moment and tell you how awesome it really looked; how superhero like it looked. But all that came out was, “What the fuck was that?” The second he said those words, your once huge smile dropped.
“I’m gonna go to my room.” You made your way around Dean. “You…you should go shower…cool off.” You suggested.
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It had been a few hours since you and Dean had that weird confrontation. Dean had taken a shower like you had suggested he do in order to cool off and was now sitting on the floor of his bedroom with a beer in one hand looking through photos of the two of you. As he drank, he stopped on a particular picture; it happened to be one of his favorites and he honestly had no idea why. The two of you weren’t doing anything particularly special; it was just some random picture that Jack had taken of the two of you about a few months back. For Jack’s birthday this year, you had bought them a polaroid camera because you had wanted to teach Jack about making memories. “Sometimes humans like to take pictures when they want to remember a moment, or a particular person forever.” You had told them. The photo that Jack had taken of the two of you were of you guys sitting next to each other in the War Room, each of you with an open book in front of you on the table with Dean looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. For some reason, this was the moment that Jack had wanted to capture, and Dean had no idea why so he had asked Jack. “You looked happy. It’s like what Y/N said. Humans take pictures when they want to remember a moment or person forever. This moment was happy, and I want us to remember that.” Is how Jack responded to the question.
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the picture. “I really do look happy.” He said aloud to himself. He took a sip of his beer and moved onto the next picture. This one he knew was your favorite. In this picture of the two of you that Jack had taken, you were sitting in front of Baby. Dean was in the driver’s seat like normal with his hands on the steering wheel, while you were in the passenger seat giving him the biggest smile with one of your hands resting on his thigh. Dean had remembered that day clearly – not fully knowing why – but you and him were going to run errands in town. It was supposed to be just the two of you, and for some reason Dean was excited that it was just going to be the two of you. But you had asked Jack if they wanted to come along so they could get more experience being around people. Jack of course said yes and insisted that they bring their polaroid camera. At some point during the drive to town, your hand had found his thigh and you had given it a small pat. Dean asked Jack a few days later after seeing the picture and asked why Jack had taken it. “Y/N looked really happy. I like seeing her happy; like how I like seeing you, Cas, and Sam happy.”
“You looked happy…Y/N looked really happy.” Jack’s words echoed in Dean’s mind. “You really do look happy Sweetheart. God knows why.” Dean commented placing the photo back into the small wooden box he kept underneath his bed. “Humans take pictures when they want to remember a moment or person forever.” Yet another sentence of Jack’s that echoed in the back of his mind. These sentences, looking at these pictures of the two of you, getting unnecessarily angry after the hunt, looking forward to spending alone time with you – it was all starting to click into place for him. These pictures of the two of you and the memories that he had of you were the only things that he would have left to remember you by if you had died on this hunt. He would have lost someone that truly made him happy, and that scared him; the thought of losing you.
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You were lying in bed watching TV, still slightly wet from the shower you had just taken. You were under the blankets and wearing one of Dean’s faded Motörhead t-shirts that he had given you because it no longer fit him. He was originally going to throw it out, but you had convinced him to give it to you because, “It still has some life left in it.” In which he replied, “Knock yourself out Sweetheart.”
There was a light knocking at your door. “Who is it?” You asked.
“It’s me.” Dean replied. Dean was the last person you wanted to talk to right now, still slightly upset about the way he had talked to you a few hours earlier.
“Who’s me?” You asked, full well knowing that it was Dean – you recognized his voice, and his footsteps from a mile away. “I don’t know who me is.”
You heard Dean sigh from the other side of the door. “Dean.”
“Come in.” You said shutting off your TV; you had a feeling that he had wanted to talk.
Dean opened your door slowly. “Can we…Can we talk?” He stepped into your room and shut the door behind him.
“Are you going to get mad at me again?” Your question made him sigh.
“No. I’m…I came to apologize. You…you didn’t do anything wrong.” You raised an eyebrow at his weird attempt at an apology.
“You said I was reckless, that what I did was stupid.” You were confused. He was so angry just several hours earlier, not taking your apology but here he was attempting to apologize to you.
“Honestly…the way you swung on that chain and chopped his head off, it was…it was awesome.” He walked toward your bed and sat down on the edge of it. “I know you were only trying to save me. And…you did. Because, truthfully, I’d be as dead as a doornail if it weren’t for your quick thinking back there.”
“So, you’re not…mad?” You questioned.
“No, not anymore. I uh, I shouldn’t have gotten as mad as I did, and truthfully, I shouldn’t have gotten mad at all. But I realized why I was so angry before. I wasn’t angry at you. I was…” He looked you in the eyes; his eyes were no longer full of that darkness and coldness that was there a few hours earlier. “I was mad because I didn’t like the possibility of losing you.” To some, this admission may have seemed like it came out of nowhere, but not for you. For some time you knew how the older Winchester brother had felt about you; but you weren’t completely sure if it was in a platonic or romantic way. But the way he had said it, you knew that the feeling wasn’t platonic – it was romantic in nature.
“Dean.” You inched yourself toward him and placed a hand on his thigh. “You’re not going to lose me, I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep Y/N.” He was afraid, and you could hear his voice was slightly breaking. “I’ve lost too many people that promised me that they were going to come back that didn’t.” You knew about some of the people that he was referring to, but not all of them. Some of the people that he had just hinted at were some of the same ones that you had lost.
“Okay.” Was all you could say at first, knowing that Dean was right. There was no way you could in fact keep that promise; especially being in this life. “But I know…I know there’s one promise that I can keep.” You stated. You removed yourself from underneath the blankets and adjusted yourself to sitting on your knees, placing your hands on his shoulders.
“What’s that Sweetheart?” Dean asked.
“I can promise you that, as long as I live, I’ll always be in your corner no matter what. As a friend, family…” you were unsure if you should say the next couple of words but decided to say them, probably against your better judgement. “Romantic partner…I’ll be there, even if you think I’m not, I will be.”
“Romantic partner uh?” He asked amused, placing his hands on your hips. If someone walked in right now, they would have never guessed that you and Dean had an argument only hours earlier, and just had a somewhat emotional conversation not even a minute ago. “You make it sound so…business like.” A strand of hair fell in front of your face just then, but before you could do anything about it, Dean was already on top of it, tucking the strand behind your ear. Without any kind of hesitation, he leaned in, and so did you; your lips capturing each other’s.
The kiss went on longer than either of you probably expected; and it was the type of kiss that you weirdly weren’t expecting from someone like Dean. It wasn’t rough or lustful; it was gentle and slightly needy. You were the one that broke the kiss between the two of you – something that you thought wouldn’t happen. You looked at him for a moment, slightly brushing his cheek with your thumb. “Does this make us romantic partners now?” You half joked.
“You tell me Sweetheart. It can be anything you want it to be.” He responded.
“Romantic business partners it is.” You stated, leaning in again to kiss him. He was happy for you to of said yes, even if it was in your own weird way.
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rosyjn · 10 months
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HUMAN!JAKE X READER SMUT!!! 18+ CONTENT
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It’s already 1 in the morning and you’re still finishing lab work. Grace left about 2 hours ago.
“Y/N, we should just finish it tomorrow afternoon. Don’t work too hard,” Grace told you as she walked out of the lab, Norm following her.
“Y/N, come on, let’s call it a night,” Norm stopped in the doorway and turned around. His facial hair was grown out, and he had huge bags under his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be done by tomorrow morning. I promise,” you squinted as you picked up a test tube and looked through it. Norm sighed and walked out, shutting the door behind him.
And now you’re here, at 1:30 AM, wrapping up work. All you can think about is how relieved your lab colleagues will be, since you’ve finished everything.
You stack up all your papers, leaving a rock on top as a weight, to keep them from possibly moving or shuffling. You wouldn’t want to waste all that time and energy. You reach over and place your pen in a cup on a lab table. You put back all the tubes and samples that you used, and then head for the exit.
The cold air of the lab hits you hard when you take off your coat and leave it by the door. You shiver. You quickly run out and lock the door behind you, barely remembering the code.
“7797182, enter,” you whisper under your breath. You sigh in relief as the door flashes red and the word “LOCKED” comes on the screen. Nobody can mess with anything now. Unless there is an emergency, it won’t open again until 4AM, which is when the the day starts for humans on Pandora.
Your eyelids grow heavy as you turn away and begin your walk back to your bed. It’s a long one. You watch all the doors, all looking the same. You see the signs for different departments. You have to sing to yourself to avoid falling asleep.
At some point, you’re afraid you won’t make it to bed, and that you’ll just snooze on the floor in some cold hallway.
When you turn another corner, you see a folded silhouette in the distance. You have to really squint to make out who it is.
“Hey, Y/N!” it’s Jake. He’s sitting in his wheelchair, filling up a small container at the ice machine. You’re so close to your room anyways, you think you should just say hi, it won’t make you any sleepier.
“Hi, what are you doing?” you walk towards him.
“I’m gonna have a drink, want some?” his voice is as charming as ever. And it’s evident that he’s wide awake, unlike you. You rub your eyes and let out a tired chuckle.
“I couldn’t, I’ve gotta- gotta sleep” you reach for your room key. Jake watches as your hands grip as your sides, looking for pockets. “Where, where- oh!!” you facepalm and shake your head.
“What’s wrong?” Jake turns himself to face you completely. A worried expression comes onto your face and your brows furrow.
“My key… is in my lab coat… which is in the lab… which is far away… and locked right now…” you look down at the ground.
Jake’s face lights up, but he tries to conceal it. He swallows, breathes in, and looks up at you.
“C’mere, come sleep in my room tonight. We’ll drink, we’ll have a good time,” he reaches up and grabs your arm, trying to convince you.
“I don’t wanna drink, I’ll just sleep,” you push his arm off of you.
“That’s okay, don’t wanna… pressure you,” he tilts his head and his eyes meet yours. “C’mon,” he turns himself around and makes his way back to his room, ice container in hand. You lazily follow him.
When he gets to the door, he opens it and scoots himself back to let you in first. You walk in a few steps and turn, keeping an eye on Jake as he comes in.
“What? What do you think I’m gonna do? Relax, I don’t bite” he chuckles and shuts the door behind him. When you turn back around and bend over to take off your shoes, he stares at your ass. Then, he takes his ice bucket to the table with liquor.
As you walk towards his bed and sit down on it, he stares at you through the corner of his eye. You lean back onto his bed. Your legs dangle off the foot of it.
“Thanks so much for this, I really don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t help me,” your legs are spread slightly apart, giving Jake a peek up your dress and at your light pink, lace panties.
You tilt your head and look at Jake’s bed. It’s messily made and has 2 pillows, stacked on top of each other. You look around his room, it’s surprisingly clean. You close your eyes as you listen to the clinking of glass and a pouring noise.
“You know, you can come to me anytime…” Jake’s eyes leave your panties for a second and watch his drink go into the cup.
“You’re funny,” you close your eyes and put a leg up on the bed, unknowingly giving him a better view of your underwear.
“Are you really thankful for this though?” he puts his cup down and wheels towards you, stopping at the foot of the bed. He gazes at your face, fighting the urge to take a closer look at your panties.
“Yeah, of course I am. Why? What are you thinking?” you put your leg back down and rest your foot in Jake’s lap.
“Do you wanna really thank me? For letting you stay with me?” he strokes up your leg. You shake your head and sit back up, pulling away from him. You sit on your calves and sigh.
“Don’t. I’m not gonna give you a blowjob to return the favor. I should go, I’m sorry,” you start to get up off the bed. Jake grabs you and holds you in place. Your eyes widen.
“I know all your friends would be disappointed. I know Grace and Norm would never see you the same way. I know Trudy would make fun of you for a lifetime-“ he begins, desperately. You cut him off by giggling.
“You’re right,” you hold his arm and relax, curious to see what he’s gonna come up with next.
“I’m not asking for sex. I think you’re so perfect and smart and beautiful… don’t leave. Just stay. Just for tonight,” he pleads. His grip stays tight on you. His gaze is intense and you’ve never seen him vulnerable like this.
“You’re… NOT asking for sex?” you tilt your head in confusion. Jake lets out a strained laugh.
“No, Y/N. I just think you’re really, um, great- and I really enjoy your company. I want you to stay the night. I- I can just sleep on the floor if you’re uncomfortable. Is that okay?” his grip on you loosens.
He’s so adorable you could cry. You grab his face and kiss him. When your lips meet his, he hesitates in shock before he kisses back. When he reciprocates, you climb onto his lap. He accepts your embrace and holds you tight for a second. You pull away to talk to him.
“Jake, will you accept the blowjob now?” Your hands travel away from his face and down to his pants.
A euphoric smile wipes onto his face and he tilts his head as you feel his boner.
“Let’s get on the bed,” he lifts you back onto it. You crawl back on all fours as he lifts himself up and scoots back until his head is on a pillow.
“Can I take these off?” you pull at his pants and smile. Jake just leans back and laughs in pure joy. You undo his pants, pull them off, and throw them on the floor. You arch your back and bite at his underwear.
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he clenches his eyes closed. You listen to his words and get his Calvin Kleins off of him, which allows his boner to spring at your face. You gasped at the sight of it. He told you the truth. He was SUPER hard. You licked up the shaft which made him shudder.
“How long have you wanted me to do this, hmm?” You asked before taking his cock down your throat, slobbering on his balls. He moaned and his breath hitched.
“Ever since I met you, Y/N-“ he whimpers as you come back up and lick his tip.
“That’s surprising,” you look up and make contact while kissing his tip. That made Jake crazy and sent him over the edge.
His cum squirted onto your lips and nose, and you stuck your tongue out to catch it. He whimpered as you wiped and licked up every last drop of cum. You never break eye contact, neither does he. He grabs your hair and pulls you up to him, kissing you again. This time, his tongue intrudes into your mouth, and you whine. He pulls away and reaches up your skirt for your panties.
“Still sleepy?” he works circles on your clit.
“No,” you hide your face into the crook of his neck and mewl.
“Didn’t think so, I’m taking this off of you,” he works to take your dress off and you comply, leaning back and putting your arms up as he lifts it off and throws it.
You realize you’re bare with him. You realize you’re sitting in a colleague’s embrace, with the taste of his semen in your mouth, in only your bra and panties. Your hands go back to his face. You give him a peck and then pull away. He stares in your eyes.
“What- what now?” you ask while you trace hearts on his shirt.
“Now, I’m gonna take your bra and panties off and you’re gonna ride me,” he says.
Your eyes widen and you smile. He smiles back as he reaches and unclasps your bra. You eagerly reach to take off his shirt but he stops you.
“Hmph,” you pout.
“Don’t worry honey, I just wanted to admire these tits for a second.” he fondles your breasts. “I’ll leave so many hickeys,”
You laugh as you continue to take his shirt off of him. Last article of clothing left is your underwear. But he takes that slow. His hand travels down your torso and he hooks a finger around the side of the panty. Then, he slowly pulls it off of you while kissing.
Out of nowhere, he grabs your hips and pushes your torso back, while bringing your hips towards his face. You yelp.
“My god, I’m the luckiest man on earth.” he holds your legs open and stares at your wet, dripping cunt.
“Please, Jake,” you arch your back and close your eyes.
“Come here and ride this dick first, then I’ll see if you deserve to be eaten out,” he manhandles you back up and kisses you again.
“Okay, deal,” you say, positioning him around your entrance.
“I’m gonna hold these hips though,” his hands dig into your hips. “You can still handle it, you’re a big girl,” he teases.
As you lower yourself, you feel it tickling your slit and you shudder.
“Jake-“ you whimper.
“You need help? Don’t worry, I got you. I got you,” Jake reassures you. You nod. “Ready?” he asks.
“Ready,” you reply.
He pushes your hips down onto his cock. When it first enters, you gasp and he lets out a guttural groan. When the tip was inside, you arched your back and whined.
“It’s okay,” he whispers as he pushes your hips down further. Your eyes well up with tears as he inches into bottoming out, letting you sit down. You moan and your mouth is ajar as you let your walls adjust. Jake pays close attention to your face, making sure not to hurt you.
“Ah…” your breathing is uneven and you just sit there, absorbing the feeling of his cock. Jake is whimpering out of control and his hands dig into your hips, sure to leave marks.
“You okay? Relax, it’ll make it easier,” Jake strokes your hair. “You’re doing such a good job for me,”
You take Jake’s advice and slowly bounce up and down.
“I wanna see your tits bounce, can you go that fast?” he looks down at your pussy and then back up into your eyes. You mewl and try to pick up the pace.
“Is- that good?” your eyes clench shut as you chase an orgasm on his dick. Jake lets out a smug grin while he watches your titties.
“Yeah, yeah that’s good,”
You yelp and your pussy clenches while a knot of pleasure forms in your stomach.
“I’m so- Jake!”
“Mmm hmm, yeah, I bet you are,” Jake smacks your breast.
You yell out as you clench and pulsate around him, while your arousal coats his balls. He groans and throws his head back, catching his breath.
You hop off his dick and fall down next to him. He immediately takes you in his arms and kisses you all over.
“That was- ah,” you say into his chest.
“Yeah it was, you did so good.” he rubs your back. “Let’s go to sleep now, hmm baby? Let me cuddle you to sleep, sweetheart,”
“Nuh uh!” you giggle. “You promised you’d eat me out!” you playfully bite his shoulder.
“Nah, you’re gonna have to practice riding first,” he says.
338 notes · View notes
ficcidio · 10 months
Text
LAST TIME
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“this is the last time i’m asking you this, put my name on the top of your list”
pairing: fiancé!seungmin x reader
genre: angst
warnings: idol seungmin x non idol reader, cursing, crying, fighting (verbally ofc), not proofread and i think that’s it
a/n: this was initially written for bangchan but i changed it hehe, im sorry to always make you suffer i just love angst 😔
now playing: last time by taylor swift
— 시작
another sleepless night waiting for seungmin to arrive home. you knew he was working, he worked so, so hard, but sometimes you needed a little bit of comfort too. he didn’t feel like your boyfriend anymore, for the past month he hadn’t been your lovely significant other, he was just someone you occasionally saw around the house and hardly ever woke up next to.
it was heartbreaking to think he didn’t love you anymore like he used to. you couldn’t remember the last time you even touched each other in a meaningful way. it had been months since you had sex and probably weeks since you last kissed. you remember it so well, you both would kiss until you lips hurt, sang your favorite songs at the top of your lungs in midnight and stargazed until you fell asleep on each other.
pain. grief. that was all you could feel. that was all you had felt for the past month and it was getting tiring.
“don’t wait for me awake” he told you many times, but you wanted to spend at least a little bit of time with him, so you forced yourself to stay awake until he arrived, and that drove him mad.
since he proposed to you and you moved in together, it felt as if he didn’t want to see you outside your house. as if it was enough for him to share a bed. he didn’t take you on dates, he didn’t call you special pet names. it seemed like all his feelings disappeared, and you were terrified.
03:39 a.m, he still wasn’t there. your eyes now felt heavy and you thought that it was time to sleep, but a sudden wave of anxiety and fear hit you and your eyes filled with tears. you allowed yourself to cry, to let everything you’ve been hiding out.
the door opened, silently, seungmin trying not to wake you up. what he didn’t know is that you were more than awake.
he opened the bedroom door only to hear your silent cry. he stayed there, not knowing what to do. as you hadn’t been as close, he didn’t know how to comfort you anymore. after seconds of thinking, he decided to just stay by your side without saying a word. you felt the other side of the bed heavier, meaning he laid there. next to you. without touching you or comforting you.
you were so, so tired of this happening. you didn’t want to say anything, you really didn’t, but without meaning to, you exploded.
“you enjoy watching me cry?” you whispered, staring at him with no fear. you knew he didn’t, but maybe it didn’t bother him either
“what are you talking about?” he asked shyly, barely daring to look at you. you laughed ironically and rolled your eyes to show your disappointment,
you took a few seconds to make sure you really wanted what you were about to say, and you decided yes, you were sure. you took off your promise ring and took his hand – the first contact you had in weeks – to leave it there. he looked at it, unsure if he understood it right. you couldn’t be doing that, right? no, thus couldn’t be happening he repeated in his head again and again, but not even one word dared to escape his lips. instead, his eyes watered slowly, watching every move you made. you stood up and walked to the living room, he instantly followed you.
“what? y/n, what do you mean by this?” he insisted
“i mean just what you’re thinking” you stated “i don’t want to marry you, seungmin”
his name felt so dry on your lips now, his heart froze.
“what? why? was it too early? we can postpone it, don’t worry…” he tried to fix it, he tried to pretend he didn’t know the reason but of course he did.
you cut him off instantly “you know damn well why” you simply answered, letting him think. you couldn’t say much more, you would break down if you tried
“no- why are you doing this to me?” he yelled, following you as you walked around the house. when you stopped, he also did right in front of you and you had to see his crystallized eyes, they showed so much pain, but you wouldn’t believe it after all he did
“to you?! i’m the one doing something to you, seungmin? am i hurting you?” you yelled “for three weeks you don’t bother touching me, asking me how my day was, nothing at all! and i’m the one hurting you? you arrive past midnight in a bad mood, only to sleep peacefully without even saying goodnight! how do you settle with just sharing a fucking bed?! how on earth is that enough for you?!” you screamed, looking at his eyes. embarrassment was shown in his, while his lower lip trembled a little
“you don’t care, do you? you don’t give a single shit for my feelings or anyone else’s! you’re just like everyone else” you continued to scream with all the energy left in you while he just looked at you speechless. the sadness and loneliness suddenly hit you and the tears started falling as you calmed down a little “i don’t even know if you love me anymore” you said with a cracked voice, trying to hold yourself from crying, but you couldn’t
“y/n–“ he tried to talk, but of course, you didn’t let him.
“and the worse part is that i love you. i love you so much, seungmin, but i am just so tired” you breathed out. “so tired of eating dinner alone a-and watching you treat everyone else so nicely when you act like i’m not here, and i’m so tired of… everything. i’m tired of this. i love you, i really did want to marry you, but it’s getting tiring to wait for you until midnight…”
“i told you not to wait for me” he interrupted you
“this is not about fucking waiting! you’re not here seungmin, nor physically or emotionally!” you screamed again, regretting it right after when you saw tears falling down his cheeks “i’ve asked to many times to put me on the top of your list and you just… disappear again, and again, and again”
“and i am struggling so much, but you don’t care enough to notice. you didn’t even care when i was crying…” you whispered
“i did care but you were-“ he tried to talk, but you didn’t let him.
“no you fucking didn’t! you have no fucking excuses seungmin. despite all the things i’ve done for you, everything i’ve risked you still don’t care! i am tired of being strong and i’m tired of acting like i don’t care when behind closed doors this is all i feel! i feel trapped!” you screamed “it’s not your fault seungmin but i miss you, i miss my boyfriend, the boy who asked me to marry him, i miss who you used to be, and i know it’s hurtful to hear but it’s true. you’re not here for me. i just want you to realize i’m in pain, seung. do you love me?” you asked
“y/n, calm do-“
“do you fucking love me anymore? you don’t! you don’t love me you’re just faking it! you’re a fucking pretender” you pointed at him “liar! you’re a liar, look at what you’ve done! i hate you! i hate you so fucking much!” you index was now hitting his chest and you suddenly collapsed into his arms, as if all the anger you once felt had disappeared, you just needed him close.
you cried in his arms while you heard his quiet sobs, you waited for him to answer. though, after all you said, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hated you now.
after a few seconds, you started to feel desperate when he didn’t answer. maybe he was mad at you. you pulled away and looked in his eyes.
“i don’t-“
he interrupted you “i’m so sorry, y/n…” seungmin muttered “i didn’t… i-i… i’m so sorry…”
“seungmin… i didn’t mean it” you said, feeling regret from every hurtful word you said to him “i don’t hate you…”
“i know, y/n. i’m so sorry, i- didn’t expect you to be in so much pain, it’s my fault”
“it’s not, you didn’t know” you tried to defend him
“it is. i’m sorry, i promise you this won’t happen again, i promise will be fine please- please just stay with me”
“always”
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quinloki · 2 months
Text
Down the Alley
A short series of Reader x One piece characters and back alley sex. Because I can. And it's a nice break after tying off my last multi-chapter.
And also cause the first one is @kazieai's fault. (You know what you did.)
Sabo x afab reader
cw: semi-public sex, fingering, oral, torn clothing
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You pull Sabo in close by his tie, the surprised look on his face frozen in place for a moment as your lips meet. You’d been dating a while, but neither of you had pushed public displays of your mutual feelings, being more subtle about it. The kiss was almost a retaliatory action, his words had sparked the need in you and you’d acted without thinking.
When you break the kiss and he doesn’t recover right away, his face just getting redder and redder as you find your bravado quickly replaced by your own embarrassment, you walk quickly down the street, pulling your scarf around your neck and hastening your pace. You know as long as you don’t run you won’t accidentally lose Sabo.
Running would attract attention anyway, and you don’t want that right now.
After a few moments you slow your pace, the burning in your face and the thump of your heart having slowed to acceptable levels again. A moment later a hand slips inside yours and you look over to see Sabo smiling at you, having caught back up. There’s still a dust of pink on his cheeks, but it might just be from the chillier weather.
Nothing has mercy on that fair skin of his.
He pulls at your hand, picking the pace back up for both of you, and guiding you through the streets. The quickened pace warms you up, nearly trotting through thinning crowds.
Suddenly he pulls you into an alley, lifting you up easily and setting you down so that your back’s against a wall, and a dumpster is obscuring you both from the street traffic. Taking off his hat he blocks the view entirely, leaning in and kissing you deeply. His body presses against yours, free arm near you against the bricks.
The soft hum of pleasure that bubbles up in him, as his tongue presses against your lips, breaks any defense you might have had. Your own moan is mixed in the heat of his tongue, the shift of his arm and his gloved hand against your throat. Your fingers pull at his jacket, needing and wanting him closer. Never mind that much more pressure and the two of you might honestly go through the wall, you need more.
“Hold the hat,” he murmurs, lips barely parted from yours. You mutter the word hat in half a daze, mind focused on other things, but your fingers curl around the brim, keeping it where it is. “Good girl,” Sabo praises, and you shift against the bricks as he kneels before you.
He has one of your legs over his shoulder before you start to focus. “Sabo, what are you-!” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, stifling the squeal of surprise into a tight grunt as he tears a hole in your tights.
“I didn’t expect you to be such a tease,” he grins, lifting your other leg over his shoulder and scooting closer to the wall. His strength and the rough bricks against your coat are keeping you in place, and the shiver in your legs has nothing to do with the chill air.
“Sabo we can’t.” You hiss the words, body betraying you as your hips shift toward his face without your meaning them to. “If we’re caught…”
“No one can see,” he assures you, cheek against your thigh as he looks up at you expectantly. “Do you really want to finish walking home in torn tights without any relief?”
“… Someone’ll hear.”
Sabo’s eyes focus, and the grin he gives you sends a shiver up your spine. “You can be quiet for me, can’t you?” He licks up the inside of your thigh, causing your body to tense. “See? I knew you could manage.”
He purrs the words, hands on the backs of your thighs as he parts your legs, letting you rest against his shoulders. One of your hands is holding onto his hat, the other is tangled into the curly golden locks of his hair. A shivering gasp slips between your lips as his tongue caresses your pubes.
The whole thing is too much, and the words fall from you before you can even really register them.
“Please, Sabo,” you husk softly, brushing his hair back. “Don’t tease me.”
“Perish the thought, my love.” He assures you, breath hot against your dripping lips. “You’re into this more than I expected.”
Sabo buries his face in your cunt, tongue pushing past your labia, it and his lips squelching against the wetness he finds there. The sound is so loud you’re certain someone on the main street has heard, but a quick peek around the brim of his hat proves no one is paying either of you any mind.
Sabo’s tongue is heavy against your clit, which he sucks into his mouth making you gasp and buck. His grip keeps you from squirming away, and you nearly drop his hat as you start to shakily whimper for him to slow down. Fierce eyes look back at you.
“Eyes on me.” He pouts, flicking the tip of his tongue against the hard, sensitive flesh. “Forget the street exists.”
“Ease-Easy for you to say,” you huff, positioning the hat so it blocks your view of the street. You brush his hair aside as he dives back in.
His gloved hands are holding you well, and he shifts you a little so he can nuzzle his nose into the whole affair, tongue plunging into your pussy. The intrusion causes you to gasp, and you pull your hand free from his hair to cover your mouth, stifling the sounds beating against your lips. You can hear, and feel, him grunt, and you realize he’s now taken it as a challenge.
Strong arms shift you again, putting your leg against most of his shoulder, freeing up a hand as he holds you steady in this new position. You don’t get a chance to ask  what he’s doing before two glove fingers push into your cunt.
Dropping the hat both of your hands are in his hair as your body bucks. “Sabo!” You gasp, nearly crying out the word as he continues eating you out while finger-fucking you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck no, wait - Sa-Sabo, wait it’s too, too much I’m gonna —!”
The pleasure hits you hard enough you make little more than a strained and clipped sound as the rush dances stars in your vision. Your body curls, but Sabo doesn’t let you go or let up in his efforts. Your breathing is hot and harsh, and each flick of his tongue and huff of hot air against your soaked skin, sends twitches and shivers through your body.
“Saaaaaaaaaabo, please!” You cry as the subsiding pleasure threatens to build again. “My love, puh-please!”
He pulls his fingers out, making your body shiver and pulling another sweet moan from you, lowering you slowly until you were sat in his lap, catching your breath and still mostly propped up by the wall. Your legs are on either side of his waist, and you can’t stop the twitch in your legs when he starts to lick his stained gloves.
“You… ruined your gloves.” You murmur quietly, face and body hot and bothered again just from the simple act. You’d give him hell for it, but the daze of pleasure has abated your embarrassment comparatively.
“Hardly,” he muses, running his thumb against your lower lip before kissing you. “I rather think they shall become my favorite pair.”
You grin. “Going to be a bit mismatched.” You tease, and start to squirm when Sabo grins back, deviousness dripping from his toothy promise. He grabs a hold of you and pulls you close, kissing you deep before you can voice any concerns.
“They’ll be matching when I’m done.” He promises, standing up with you and setting you carefully on your feet. “Once we get back home.” He adds with a wink.
Leaning down, he kisses your cheek softly. “I’d much rather you not stifle your voice, it seems.”
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cozymochi · 3 months
Note
Oo I love Elena of Avalor, what's Emilio's relationship to his cousin like? and his dorm mates?
[😳💕 IN REFERENCE TO THIS DIP]
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Gonna answer these questions in reverse to test the waters. I briefly mention it on his bio image but I think I mixed up the subject pronouns in my sentence structure when referring to his relationship to the other guys 💀 i realized too late that it reads awkwardly- SO LEMME CLARIFY.
🦜 Emilio’s relationship to Kalim 🦦: Kalim —much like how he wants to treat any first year in his dorm— really wants to seem like some really cool older brother to his younger peers. Emilio finds this sunny disposition a lil’ off putting to a degree BUT…. Emilio does wanna get close to Kalim if only to elevate his own sense of worth and perceived status. Which can translate to Emilio being something of a bootlicker. Not Sebek level, but whatever lets him seemingly advance.
He doesn’t necessarily care about Kalim’s wealth per se, heck Emilio himself is already from a noble family in his home country— but being close to the Kalim Al-Asim looks really good on the outside in Emilio’s mind. “Humble” little Emilio managed to network with THE Asim heir? Now that’s something worth talking about, especially back home. Business is one thing but to be in his inner circle? That’s very special.
In general their relationship is amicable, but It’s hard to say if Emilio actually cares for Kalim on a personal level, if at all. But Kalim definitely cares for him as he does for anybody else. It’s probably the least complicated.
…Which segues into-
🦜Emilio’s relationship Jamil 🐍: Jamil does not like Emilio, and Emilio views Jamil as an obstacle. So naturally he wants to get in Jamil’s good graces as much as possible too! Emilio frequently tries buttering up Jamil in some shape or form via giving him information he’d find valuable or emulating how Jamil treats the other students in the dorm to “set an example.” If Jamil rejects an impromptu party, Emilio is right there to second that notion!! (Note: only applies if Jamil is present) He tends to, dare I say… parrot Jamil…? 😉
But unlike Kalim, Jamil is not as easy to sway. He can spot a fake smile a mile away. At first, Jamil assumed something far more nefarious about Emilio’s intentions, but that dissipated quickly after investigating further.
…That said, Jamil will use Emilio’s desperation to get in good spirits with Kalim (for as surface level as they are). It makes Emilio rife for exploitation. Jamil will often test the waters to see how far Emilio is willing to go, without actually giving him much of an inch in return… But, Emilio has his practical uses. He has his own invaluable connections, and underneath all that phoniness is someone genuinely capable with an eye for detail that most in the dorm don’t seem to have.
At first, Jamil didn’t trust Emilio at all because of his incessant behavior… and now?? I mean he still kinda doesn’t cuz Jamil is just like that, but he eventually learned Emilio himself is generally harmless and his interest in Kalim is purely surface level for petty vanity reasons. …That and Emilio is similarly from a noble family, so Jamil doesn’t want conflict to start with should anything crop up. He has yet to figure out why a guy from a noble family like Emilio would feel the need to overcompensate so much. Why would he feel the need to elevate his status, shouldn’t he already have it? And for that matter, why go to so much effort?
That said, as much as Jamil finds Emilio’s constant - and I mean constant- schmoozing annoying, in an ironic twist it makes Emilio seemingly the only somewhat capable person he trusts in the dorm to watch Kalim should Jamil be out of commission for arbitrary shenanigans of the month. He both trusts and doesn’t trust him, it tends to flip back and forth. They’re kinda both “useful” to each other.
…Kalim thinks Jamil and Emilio are best friends.
✨NOW FOR THE PERSONAL LORE✨.
🦜 Emilio’s relationship to his cousin 💎:
Much like anything in this universe, Emilio’s relationship with his cousin more or less directly parallels the source his whole character draws from.. So, it’s parallel to Esteban’s relationship with Elena minus the indirect hand in parental death (side note: This show is bonkers). I feel like I’m not doing many favors by NOT going into depth on the Esteban and Elena stuff, but for the sake of brevity on the long post I’m going to have to leave it out. Watching the series informs a lot of the directional choices here, but that’s an unreasonable ask. So, I guess I’ll have to leave it at “if you know you know.” BACK TO THE MEAT AND POTATOES:
Emilio is jealous of his cousin. Unlike her, he wasn’t born into nobility, but rather adopted into her family after both his parents perished in an accident. While his cousin looks to him like an older brother and Emilio to her like a younger sister, his cousin often gets showered in praise and far more attention from that side of the family than he ever gets. He often wonders if they even remember him. In fact, they usually DO forget he’s there. No matter what it is she does, she gets rewarded and lauded whereas if Emilio does something similar or more impressive, it doesn’t earn much fanfare. In fact, his family just assumes it was his cousins doing.
Emilio, in an attempt to gain their praise and attention, has developed something of a vain complex where overcompensating is his way of getting recognition. He wants to be seen as capable and worth seeking for advice and wisdom, so he makes it a point to learn as much as possible and make as many connections as he can (Ironic, considering what his signature spell is). That side of the family works on the Grand Council to the Queen of their country “Shining Peninsula,” so there’s a lot he wants to live up to. He wants to work to get there, his cousin, however is just expected to already have a spot.
As for her, it’s not that she’s incapable. Far from it. Despite his jealously, Emilio does love his cousin. She’s very understanding and down-to-earth, but her sheltered lifestyle and need to live up to the expectations put on her leads her to being extremely impulsive and act on instinct. Did I mention her magic reserves are crazy high? In another ironic twist, she’s the one who seems to notice that Emilio is very knowledgable on a lot of things she’s blind to, and while she might turn to him for help… she kinda falls into the same pitfalls the rest of her family does. She doesn’t usually listen.
Hey, in a weird way it also kinda parallels Kalim and Jamil. So, maybe Emilio could find a kinship in a certain somebody.
So, someone out there is probably wondering if this cousin is twst Elena. Yes. Her name is Marisol.
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79 notes · View notes
froggywritesstuff · 10 months
Note
Poly Yandere Will Byers & Mike Wheeler x male reader
Byler Ghostface au
ours | poly!ghostface!yandere!byler
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ship/pairing: yandere!ghostface!Will Byers x male!reader x yandere!ghostface!Mike Wheeler
warnings: yandere themes, murder, character death, blood, stabbing, unhealthy relationships, possessiveness, implied period-typical homophobia (please do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of these)
A/N: i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please understand that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life. fem readers dni, Byler Ghostface au, sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy :)
Mike and Will were best friends. Sometimes other things. They shared a simple interest with one another. An interest no one else would be able to properly understand. You. And when someone else tried to take an interest in you, they took it upon themselves to get rid of them. Of course you were always so sad when a friend you had become close with vanished out of nowhere, and when your dates never showed up, but that was just a bonus in Will and Mike’s plan. They'd always be there for you when you were lonely, sometimes making you feel like they were the only people there for you. Of course, you never knew they were intentionally making you feel that way, and intentionally driving away any other friends you might make. You just felt so loved having Mike and Will’s friendship, unaware of how they both wanted you in a different way. So much, they’d do anything for you. But apparently, you never got the memo.
You happily sped toward Mike and Will at the lunch table they were sitting at, greeting them both with a wide smile as you handed them a note.
"What's this?" Mike asked, taking it from your hands.
You sat down across from them, unable to contain your excitement, "Just read the note." you said, voice having a slight excited squeak to it.
Mike smiled at your excitement, before opening up the note and reading it.
'I got a date :)'
He felt his heart drop as he read your words. His brain went into overdrive, before he passed the note to Will, giving him a look. 
Will’s eyes widened as he read it, not wanting you to see his anger. Mike however, did not care about hiding his expression. The thought crossed his mind a few times, but he was too focused on this. What did you mean, you got a date?
Will was a way better actor than Mike, as he quickly plastered on an eager look as he spoke to you, “So what’s his name?”
You were beyond happy over Will’s ‘support’, completely naive to his real intentions.
”It’s Conner, from our science class.” You gushed, waving to a boy sitting at another table, not noticing the scowl etched on Mike’s face as he saw him. He and Will were familiar with Conner. Every odd science lesson, he would ask to be your lab partner. They agreed they wouldn’t do anything about Conner unless he tried becoming friends with you, so they could stop anything else happening between the two of you. Apparently they were too late. Will had a plan though. He usually did.
“Do you guys have anything planned? Where are you two going out?”
Mike began listening more intently, immediately understanding what Will was thinking.
You shrugged, “We were just gonna watch movies at my place, since we don’t really wanna go out in public.”
Will and Mike nodded, an unspoken plan being formed, “Nice.” Will smiled.
Mike plastered a smile on his face, almost speaking through gritted teeth, ”Sounds fun.”
____
You looked so beautiful. You were laughing, and smiling, and the light from the tv screen illuminated your face in the most ethereal way. Mike and Will loved your smile. However they hated when you smiled because of someone else. No one else should be able to see you happy, let alone make you happy. So to say they were angry as they saw you laughing because of something Conner said through your living room window would be an understatement. Conner didn't deserve you. No matter how much you liked him, no matter how much he liked you, you two would never be right for each other. Mike and Will just needed you to realise that.
You were unaware of Mike and Will's presence, your attention on the boy beside you, until the phone rang. You left the couch where you and Conner sat, sending him an apologetic smile as you went to answer the phone.
"Hello, Y/N speaking?" you said, into the phone.
"Hello?" a low, gravelly voice responded.
You paused, waiting for an answer before realising you weren't going to get one, "Who is this?" you asked.
"Who's this?" they asked, much to your confusion.
"Is there someone you're trying to reach?"
"Well, what number is this?"
"What number are you trying to reach?"
"I don't know."
You narrowed your eyes, before speaking, "Then I think you have the wrong number."
"Oh do I?"
"Uh-huh. I gotta go now, bye." you said, ending the call and hanging up the phone. "Sorry about that," you said, walking back to where Conner was sitting.
"Who was it?" he asked, to which you shrugged, about to answer, only to be interrupted by the phone ringing again.
You sighed, walking back to the phone, picking it up with a huff, "Hello?"
"Hi."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the familiar voice, "Did you need something?"
"I wanted to apologise."
"For?"
"Dialling the wrong number."
"You're forgiven. Bye now." before you can hang up, the voice calls out.
"Don't hang up, I just wanna talk."
"I'd love to talk, but I have a friend over, I don't wanna keep them waiting."
"He can wait. I just wanna talk." the voice responded, to which you sighed, holding the phone away from you and turning to where Conner was sitting.
"Who is it?" he asked.
You shrugged, "I dunno yet, but they seem very persistent in talking to me. I'll try and hang up soon." you said, receiving an understanding smile from Conner, before you brought the phone back to you, "What do you wanna-?"
"Who was that?" the voice snapped.
"Just my friend? Now what do you wanna talk about?"
"How much do you like your friend?" the voice asked, giving you a bad feeling.
"What do you mean?" you asked, growing more and more cautious of the stranger.
A mocking laugh came from the phone, "How loud are you gonna scream when I slice Conner to bits?"
You whipped your head around, heart dropping when Conner was nowhere to be found. Much to their disappointment, you hung up the phone, running through the walls of your house, screaming Conner's name. The phone rang again, making you jump with fear. You raced toward the phone, picking it up and answering it.
"Who the fuck are you and what do you want?!" you imagined yourself sounding tough, but your face was drenched with tears and your voice was cracking from the fear.
The voice laughed, "Like I said, I just wanna talk."
"I don't wanna talk to you." you cried, heart racing with fear.
"Oh?" you could almost hear the smirk over the phone, "So you'd rather I slit Conner's throat right now?"
"No, please don't hurt him!"
"There we go," a low laugh came from the phone, "Now if you don't wanna hear your boyfriend choking on his own blood, you'll talk to me."
You felt your heart drop with fear, "H-how did you know we were-?" you stopped yourself from continuing, taking a breath to calm yourself, the sound of low static on the line making you uneasy, "Is that why you're doing this?"
A hum came from the phone, "Maybe you should just be more careful about which boys you date."
"Fuck you," you hissed, breaths heavy as you felt tears roll down your cheeks, "I'm calling the police, you dick." you hung up the phone, about to dial 911, when you heard a loud scream, followed by a thud.
The phone dropped from your hands as you saw Conner's mutilated body on the floor. Blood pooled from slits around his neck, arms and legs, staining the floor bright red. A choked sob escaped your lips and you went to run to his body, when a man in a black cloak and white mask walked in front of his body, facing you. You shook in fear, beginning to back away when someone else came behind you, wrapping their strong arms around your body to keep you from running. The masked man in front of you stalked toward you, and you began thrashing in their arms, attempting to escape, when he brought his hand up to his mask.
You felt your heart drop as you stared at the familiar dark brown eyes of your best friend, "Mike? Wh-what the fuck are you doing?"
He stared at you looking genuinely confused, "Did you not see this coming? Y/N, we've been friends with you for years, did you never think we deserved something a little more than that?"
You felt your breath hitch, "Will?"
The man behind you took his mask off as well, and you felt his hand grip your jaw, turning your head to face him, "Oh, this wasn't a one person job Y/N."
Mike nodded at Will, "There were way too many people getting too close to you, and we couldn't let that happen."
"Apparently this was the only way to get you to realise it, but you're ours, Y/N."
You felt Mike grab your hand tightly, sending a chill down your spine, "And we don't intend to let anyone take you away from us."
200 notes · View notes
satorusplayplace · 1 year
Note
Hi! Can you please do those boyfriend headcanons for Nanami and Geto this time? I lived the ones you did before! Oh and if you write for the girls as well, some gf headcanons for Mai and maki as well then? Thank you 💕
JJK characters as your s/o! —
☆ pairing: nanami x reader, geto x reader, megumi x reader, inumaki x reader, mai x reader, maki x reader
☆ part one!
☆ content warning(s): fluffy! a little angst??, lovesick cuties!! mentions of gojo…
☆ A/N: wanted to add a little bit of megumi as well! hope u enjoy this :] let me know if you want more!! send in requests. sorry it took so long! let me know if i missed anything :D i also added inumaki!
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NANAMI KENTO —
he’s super sweet! he’s always working because the jujutsu society is always short of workers. though, you know it’s to save people so you don’t mind much! kento loves you and you love him.
when he comes home after a long day, he really just wants to shower and relax. so that’s where you come in to take care of your sweet lover.
he doesn’t like PDA too much! instead he holds your hand and gives you a kiss on the forehead once in a while. he’ll mostly kiss your hand to comfort you out in public if needed.
nanami only likes to be called “nanamin” by you.
he loves whenever you both are sleeping in the same bed. he loves to hold you as close as possible to him. he’ll have you rest on his chest or he’ll cuddle your back.
if you got sick, expect him to be making you food and giving you medicine!
same goes with him, if he gets sick. you’re taking care of him even though he hates it.
nanami loves acts of service! especially when he does something for you. that’s definitely his love language.
nanami loves that you’re always there for him. he’s happy to have someone by his side.
he likes the traditional roles, housewife and working husband but not in a misogynistic way but because you both enjoy it. i mean nanami also helps you around the house! he doesn’t mind it especially when you get sick.
nanami loves to come home early while you’re cooking so he can wrap his arms around your waist.
nanami loves to sleep with you. you’re his comfort. nanami is so in love with how you are. he’s a light sleeper but knowing you’re by him. he loves it so much
— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
megumi is such a quiet boy. he’s super reserved!
megumi is a great boyfriend, he loves you so much. he just loves spending time with you.
megumi definitely is affectionate but it’s more behind closed doors because he hates PDA.
gojo teases him too much but you don’t mind cause at least it’s fun to be around everyone!
megumi learns how to cook from yuuji, so don’t be surprised when megumi comes knocking on your door with a new recipe in his hands!! you’re always going to be the first one to try.
you’re his weakness. he loves you so much. he always wants the best for you.
megumi sleeps in a strict schedule (nanami does too) but you sometimes break that. megumi will gladly stay up if you wanna watch shows together. you want to watch hunter x hunter because it’s your favorite anime right now (hint hint), why not?
megumi loves you dearly, honestly he can’t dream being without you. he’s like so lovesick for you. definitely, he’s super clingy when you’re alone
imagine you guys are cuddling and he’s all over you. being super clingy, doesn’t want you to get up, and he nuzzles into your neck placing soft kisses all over you when your damned white hair teacher and yuuji come inside your room, “y/n!!!! where are you!!” and is met with the sight of megumi cuddling all over you nuzzled into your neck while you’re just rubbing his back and on your phone.
the amount of embarrassment he gets flushed to his face appears because he knows he will be teased. he’s not embarrassed of you though, he’s so proud of you.
your relationship probably wasn’t even known to them until now because of how little PDA megumi gives you.
GETO SUGURU —
suguru is always said to be a bully but i think he’s super nice!
he loves you so much!! you’re his baby.
suguru always makes sure that you’re loved and fed. he can’t have his love feel insecure or left hungry.
suguru probably tells satoru all about you. suguru loves you so much. suguru wants to give you the world.
suguru is such a soft man. he wants to show any of his interests to you. he loves art! he loves showing his art to you.
suguru loves to hug you. i mean, he isn’t the PDA guy but in private, he definitely is. he loves you!
the most he’ll do in public is kiss your cheeks. he’ll hold your hand!
suguru is such a love bug while you’re alone. he just wants to cuddle his lover all day.
his favorite thing is to cook with you. you’re definitely a better cook than him but he can cook as well. he just prefers your cooking over his.
suguru will always protect you from danger. you’ll never have to worry your pretty mind.
— INUMAKI TOGE
toge such a cute lover, because he can’t talk, he shows it in his actions and small notes
oh how much this boy loves you. he loves to cuddle into your chest and just love on you.
he loves to kiss your neck and cheek.
he loves holding hands!
he’s definitely a PDA person. he’ll wear hickeys proudly, he’ll let lipstick stains stay all over his face.
toge lives for your love. he just wants to be around you.
toge loves to cuddle and give you notes
oh my gosh, he’ll leave small notes in your pockets and around campus for you to find.
one note said, “i love how pretty you look right now. i’m getting flustered by your beauty.” you keep all his notes in a box. you love this man so much.
toge such an amazing lover, he loves how cute you are. he can’t help but love all over you.
toge sleeps in with you, he’ll sneak into your room and just sleep with you.
oh you both are menaces. you both love trolling everyone. gojo is best because he knows but he’ll let it happen and it’s still funny. but getting yuuji is hilarious. yuuji always has the best reactions. you love to tease the younger boy.
toge just loves how you are. he loves how cute you are! he loves your hair, your lips, eyes, cheeks, everything about you. he’s so in love.
toge is lovesick. oh he’s so clingy too. when he’s away for a mission, he ends up finding you in your room and just plops on top of you. gosh he’s so lonely without you. he missed you so much..
toge is such a cute lover and the way he shows it is so adorable.
ZENIN MAI —
mai is a big tsundere. she loves you but she hates showing it. she wished maki was with her still, she’s super insecure about herself but she love you so much!!
mai is super soft whenever you’re both going to bed. mai will cuddle into your chest because she seeks your warmth and comfort.
mai will act super cold to you in public. she hates when maki can know her weakness. she hates it so much.
mai will hug on you, kiss your cheek, and just hold you when you’re alone. oh she’s so lovesick.
mai is such a flirt too! she’s always trying to make you blush.
she loves your soft skin. she loves to cuddle you and nuzzle herself onto you.
mai absolutely loves you so much. she just so soft for you. she hates that she has a bad relationship with her sister.
you try to help maki and mai get along but it only goes so far until you have to take mai away.
mai is so protective of you, she just hates when other people touch you. she hates when that stupid white haired teacher teases you all the time. unfortunately you are close with him from being friends with megumi.
— ZENIN MAKI
maki is also like her sister. she’s super protective and a tsundere.
maki never hides you. she’s so proud to have you as her’s. she will flaunt you around. oh but does she hate that white hair idiot being around when you’re together.
maki is always cuddling you. she’s definitely a big spoon but will be a little spoon too.
maki loves to kiss you but she doesn’t do too much pda. she’ll kiss your cheek in public though!
maki somehow always gets caught kissing your lips by panda and toge. somehow gojo is there too?
maki is always embarrassed when caught because it’s when she’s super vulnerable.
you’re best friends with yuta and maki loves that! she respects yuta a lot.
you three came as a trio but now yuta is overseas and maki and you are alone without him! but now you and maki are dating!
maki just loves you so much. she wants to be around you all the time. maki just thinks you’re adorable. she just loves to see you.
maki also loves to tease you. she’s a big flirt like mai. whenever you’re all flustered and hiding your face from her, she can’t help but laugh at you.
maki is such a cute lover. she loves to buy you small gifts and hug you. she loves spending time with you.
maki is such a good lover, she loves to take care of you and love you :(
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thepervymermaid · 1 year
Note
Hi I'm crazy about Xiao Blub. Can I get something else like that? I'm crazy about a Xiao like that. 💗
I'm so glad you liked it! Here's sum more! Reader is a little meanie in this one :)
Another Xiao Blurb
Warning(s): Yandere themes, Xiao being a bit intense, reader is mean
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“Come to bed,” You feel a sense of satisfaction when Xiao stares at you in surprise, his previous activity of sharpening his polearm forgotten. His eyes stare up and down your form for a moment, like his searching for something, before he gives you a cautious look.
“...no,” You roll your eyes and move closer to him, putting him on edge, something you don’t see often. You can’t quite blame the guy, can you? You're going out of your way to not only talk to him, but you actually want him in bed with you… it’s suspicious, and a part of him figures this might be another one of your attempts to kill him or escape.
“Can you relax? I’m not armed or anything,” You gesture to the kitchen, “All the knives are there, you can check,” He still doesn’t seem convinced. You sigh in annoyance, “Archons, just come to bed, Xiao. I’m tired and you always throw a fit if I don’t sleep with you. I don’t want to hear it. Can you listen to me this once, or do I have to die from lack of sleep? Is this how you plan to torture me for not returning your affection all those times? Your awful, as if kidnapping me wasn’t enough-”
“Alright,” He quickly interrupts your rant, a brief look of guilt on his face as he puts his polearm down. Once again you feel satisfied with yourself. As much as you like insulting him and everything he stands for, that doesn’t have any real effect on him. He doesn’t really care that you don’t like it here, you’ll learn to eventually. He doesn’t mind that you can’t stand to be in the same room as him, he just loves being in your presence even if it’s spent with you hurling insults at him.
No, the one thing that gets to him is his guilt. He doesn’t deserve you but he wants you more than anything else. He needs you, but he shouldn’t be with you. Yet here you are. You’ve learned over time, the easiest way to get under his skin is to air your grievances. You’re not as fragile as he likes to think, but if acting like a suffering victim hurts him, then you’ll cry crocodile tears if you must. Anything, to make him feel even a fraction of the frustration you do.
You give him a sad look, not really feeling much of anything but scorn for his existence, “Was that so hard? Do you hate me that muc-”
“No!” You're startled when he grabs your arms, a look of panic and desperation crossing his features. His eyes are glossy as if he wants to cry, but nothing comes out. You wince when his grip tightens and shrink into yourself under his intense gaze, “Don’t say that, don’t even think that. I love you. I’d do anything for you so please… don’t,” His hands are shaking slightly and you realize you might’ve pushed a little too much, “Don’t say that… I can prove it… I’ll prove it to you, right now.”
“N-no, it’s fine. I was just teasing…” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes you, and you grab his hands, gently urging them to let you go. It takes a few moments for him to get his mind right, his gaze focused on your unblinkingly and lost before he seems to regain some reasoning.
“Ah… sorry… Let’s go to bed,” He pulls away, staring at you for a few more seconds, “I love you. Please don’t doubt me again.” Then he’s off to the bedroom, as if nothing happened, leaving you a little more than disturbed in the hallway. 
Somehow you feel less keen on pushing his buttons.
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bethbluebell · 1 year
Text
new to you [ e.williams ] part 3
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ellie williams x fem!reader 
summary; being the new person in a tight knit community, you would think it’d be tough to create any meaningful relationships but oh were you wrong; and it might just be one new connection in particular that will ultimately be your downfall
parts; 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 (ongoing series)
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Wait, are you leaving?" Ellie asked, turning to you. You couldn’t do anything but stare at her, your body becoming hot and your palms sweaty.
You gulped pushing yourself off the bed attempting to avoid her penetrating gaze. She wouldn’t understand and you don’t expect her too. You crouched down next to your bag and zipped it up trying not to give into the death stare you were currently receiving, "I don’t know, would that be so bad?"
You heard Ellie scoff in disbelief, "Are you being serious right now? You were just going to pack up and leave?" You rolled your eyes at how dramatic she was being.
You stood up clutching the bag from one of its straps trying to resist the urge to throw it at her, "How can you get all that from seeing a bag, Ellie? Of course I would say my goodbyes. Jackson's done a lot for me." She began pacing around the room stumbling over her words. You were about to speak up again until you heard another knock at the door. You and Ellie locked eyes until you slowly made your way over.
Opening the door your eyes traveled downwards to a hunched over Jesse catching his breath, "Jesse?" You asked in confusion. He stood up straight and nodded at you, "Sorry (Y/n), I know you probably wanted space but I heard about your fight with Seth and-"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ellie stormed over planting herself next to you. You stared down at the floor currently cursing out Jesse in your head. How does someone manage to have that bad of timing? "Is Seth the reason you’re leaving Jackson because I swear I'll kick the shit-"
"No! It's not because of Seth. Can't I just do this because I want to? Why does there have to be an exact reason?" You snapped throwing your bag back on the floor. "Leaving you guys is the hardest part but I just don't belong here. I wasn't even intending to stay as long as I have." You placed both your hands on her shoulders, "But I'm so glad I did because I met you."
Ellie looked up at you her eyes glistening with tears. Your heart ached seeing her upset but you weren't happy at being constantly reminded by 'what could have been'.
You laid your eyes on Jesse standing in the doorway, your lips forming into a frown, "Can we talk later, Jesse?"
He looked between you and Ellie and stepped back, "Of course, you know where I'll be." You nodded and shut the door looking over at Ellie who currently had her back to you.
"I'm not doing this to hurt you." You stated hoping she doesn't hold a grudge against you for leaving.
"I know, I'm just being selfish." She forced out a laugh, wiping her tears as she turned around. "I just hate knowing that I can't do anything to change your mind."
You shook your head, ”No, you can’t.” You confirmed grabbing your boots. Ellie’s eyes followed you as you leaned against the dresser slipping your shoes on, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy my last night together.”
You peered over at Ellie as she stared back in amusement, the corners of her lips quirking up into a mischievous grin, “Lead the way.”
______________
You and Ellie were riding your horses as the sun began to set. You could see Ellie from the corner of your eye looking over at you every now and then. Something was clearly on her mind.
You let out a small laugh and turned your upper body towards her, “Penny for your thoughts?” Ellie smiled stopping her horse alongside yours.
"I was just wondering what your plan was when you leave." She asked stumping you. Is it bad that you never really thought of one?
You began fidgeting. A vertical wrinkle appearing in between your eyebrows, “Who says I have a plan? I have no family to visit, no places like Jackson to return to. I'm pretty much all by myself." You answered with a shrug.
"And you like that? Being by yourself."
"Wow! Okay. Are you saying I'm not good company? Pretty rich from the girl who was crying earlier at the thought of me leaving." She laughed, her face turning a light shade of pink.
“But in all honesty I couldn’t really tell you because I don’t know. I’ve always been with people since I was born and always felt lucky to have somebody there that cared for me. Maybe its time I faced the world for what it truly is, you know? Stop hiding behind others.” You gave Blue a gentle squeeze with your lower legs to continue moving, as did Ellie with Shimmer.
“I know it's going to be difficult without my family, but Jackson felt too comfortable. So different to what I've known." Ellie nodded as if she finally understood your reasoning. You both began chatting about other subjects until you got close to the destination.
You have been wanting to show Ellie this place for a while but you never had a good enough reason or opportunity. Which was stupid because she was your friend and you know she’d say yes in a heartbeat.
You left your horses behind and began trekking on foot as Ellie followed you aimlessly. You could hear her trying to push away the branches whilst cursing to herself behind you.
Peering behind a tree branch you looked at the view before you. Thank the heavens you didn’t get lost. You stared mesmerized at the building, dreaming up scenarios of living there in a cordyceps free world. 
That was until you let out a yelp as Ellie slammed into your back, shoving you headfirst into the bushes.
“Hey! Why’d you-“ Ellie’s words trailed off as you smacked away at the leaves and turned around. She was staring ahead of you entranced not even noticing your current predicament. 
"Cool, right?" You asked standing upwards whilst trying to fix your hair.
"So fucking cool! How'd you find this place?" Ellie beamed slipping past you taking the lead.
"Me and my brother actually found this before he- " You paused, stopping yourself from reliving any good memories just before his death. You can’t imagine it getting easier but it was still too soon. "I've always wanted to visit again since I didn’t get a good look last time but I never had the chance.”
"Well, this is awesome.” She replied facing you as she walked backwards in the direction of the beautifully built building. “You know, I never really saw the appeal of mansions when I saw them in films or comics but I think I’m starting to come around.” She smiled turning back around. You shook your head and laughed at how dorky she was. You were always so interested when she mentioned her comics because you saw how happy it made her. It was nice to have something you were passionate about nowadays.
“I wonder how much money this cost? You would’ve had to be a millionaire to afford something like this.” Ellie beamed jogging over to the entry gate, “What job to you reckon I would’ve had back then?”
You placed your index finger on your chin pretending to think, “Hmm, am I supposed to act like that’s a difficult question?”
“Is it not?” Ellie questioned with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at her teasing, “Oh please! We all know you’d be the best musician cross astronaut the world has ever seen!” You announced dramatically earning a laugh from Ellie.
“And you would be leeching off my success!” She added as you lightly hit the side of her arm.
“I was trying to be nice. Everybody knows I’d be the rich one out of this duo.”
Ellie shook her head, “That’s cute.” You laughed hitting her again causing Ellie to dramatically hold onto her arm in pain.
Just ahead of you both was a large gate that was rusted shut. Overgrown ivy tightly hugging the bars. The gate creaked loudly as Ellie struggled to push it open beside you. She let her hands fall off the gate as she looked over at you, blowing the stray hair strands from her face.
"Struggling?" You remarked, sarcasm coating your words. You made your way over and placed both hands on the bars. You pushed feeling the strain of the metal against you. After a couple more tries you could make out Ellie snickering behind you.
You groaned letting your hands drop from the bars eyeing up Ellie as she leaned against the gate. "Struggling?" She mocked holding in her laughter.
"I guess we can add comedian onto your list of careers." You commented brushing the dirt off your hands.
Ellie laughed and motioned for you to come towards her, "Come on, I'll give you a boost over." You nodded stepping onto the palm of her hands as she lifted you to the top of the gate.
You managed to pull yourself over and land on the other side of the fence. You turned around and looked back at Ellie with a smile plastered across your face, “Okay, I’ll scope out the inside to see if there’s anything that’ll help us get this gate open. In the meantime you might as well try and find a way over.” Ellie agreed and wandered out of sight.
You made your way to the large entry way and pulled out your gun. You twisted the door handle and to your surprise it was unlocked. As you advanced you couldn’t help but notice the multiple smashed windows and an eerie scuttling sound deep within the building.  You crouched down and stepped through the rooms slowly, scanning every corner for possible infected.
You started to believe you were just being paranoid until you saw a head peep around the doorway you just went through. Fucking stalker. The grip on your gun tightened as you listened out for any movement. You were planning on playing a rather mean prank on Ellie but you couldn’t exactly do it with live infected running around the place.
You sighed and looked for an exit back into the main hall. You could hear the quiet groans and scuttering of the stalker closing in on you as you questioned your plan. Shoving all doubts aside you bolted towards the door, hearing the stalker cry out just behind you. Its presence was getting louder as it clumsily chased after you.
You ran up the grand stairs positioned in the entryway. Once you made it to the top you didn’t even stop to catch your breath. You spun around and held your gun up shooting the stalker three times until its lifeless body fell at your feet.
"(Y/N)!?" Your head shot in the direction of the voice as you saw Ellie's figure running up towards the mansion thanks to the numerous ‘larger than life’ windows scattered across the walls.
You cursed under your breath turning your head frantically to find a hiding place. You darted towards a very tall and disheveled curtain, squeezing yourself behind it.
Within seconds you heard Ellie bash through the front door and stop in her tracks. Most likely looking at the fresh stalker corpse slumped at the top of the stairs. "Fuck." You heard her mutter as she carefully made her way up the stairs. You tried your hardest to prevent yourself from giggling but you couldn't help but smirk at how well your plan was working.
You peeped behind the curtain and looked down at Ellie crouching next to the stalker. You must not have realised how long you were staring until Ellie’s eyes locked onto yours.
Okay, fun’s over.
You pulled the curtain back and ran at her with full force. She looked startled as you lunged at her making you both topple down the stairs. You both landed at the bottom of the stairs with you on top of Ellie. You burst out laughing as you looked down at her.
"(Y/N)! What the fuck?" Ellie yelled looking up at you completely dazed and confused.
“I was just testing you! Trying to get an idea on how well you worked under pressure. I can’t leave if you’re weak and vulnerable.” You said in between giggles. You made yourself comfortable on top of her, pinning her arms beside her head to prevent her from moving.
Ellie scoffed in disbelief, “What, so you go around bribing infected to work with you now?” You looked up at the stalker corpse tilting your head to one side.
“Yeah... no. I had no clue it was in here but I’m not mad about it.” You looked down at Ellie again smiling with a cheesy grin.
She rolled her eyes at you, seeing how smug you were about the whole situation, "Fuck you. You could've been bit." She said trying to wiggle out of your grip.
"Who knows? I could be immune like you." You smirked releasing her from your hold.
She raised an eyebrow at you and sighed, "Yeah, let's not test that theory. The only good thing about my immunity is if I bit you, you wouldn’t get infected.” Ellie explained staring at the ceiling from her current position.
You grabbed her cheeks focusing her eyes on you, "And in what scenario would you have to bite me, hm?"
Ellie’s eyes searched yours not understanding your intentions. You were playing a dangerous game and deep down you wanted her to make a move. To give you a reason to stay, the only reason that would make you stay.
Her face became a tinted pink under your gaze as she answered – barely. “I don’t know?- A snake bite. Like from sucking out the venom?”
You snickered pulling your hands from her face, “Ah, of course. I almost forgot about all the black mamba’s just itching to get a hold of me.” You replied rolling yourself off her body and sitting down beside her instead. Ellie leaned forward turning her body around so you were both now facing the entrance.
There was a long period of silence between you and Ellie after that. You were sat shoulder to shoulder but both of your minds were elsewhere. It was so quiet that you could even hear your heartbeat slowing within your chest. You felt like you played off how nervous you were quite well. As much as you wanted to turn your feelings off for Ellie that just wasn't possible.
Your mood began to worsen as your mind began to wander. It felt like this was all that happened nowadays. You could never seem to be content for too long with these looming unrequited feelings staring you in the face when Ellie was around.
You noticed Ellie watching you from your right. You turned your head slightly staring back at her confused, “Everything alright over there?”
Ellie shook her head and looked away taking a deep breath, "(Y/N), Why can't you just stay? You have so much at Jackson."
You looked up and licked your lips - not this again.
“Ellie, this is the last time we are having this conversation.” You snapped. “If I have to leave on bad terms with you then I will because I am not delaying this for anyone.” Your tone was blunt as you turned away from her.
Ellie lifted herself off the ground in anger and made a beeline for the exit. You watched her as she paused reaching for the door handle. Her fists were clenched turning a deathly white as her breathing became heavier. You went to say something until she turned around her voice raised, “Why are you in such a rush to get away from me?”
You gasped, "Ellie!"
“No, (Y/N)! I’m sick and tired of watching people I care about leave me. If you really saw me as somebody you care about then I don’t understand how this is so easy for you." She shouted shocking you.
You pushed yourself off the ground visibly shaking. You walked towards her slowly – fire burning within your eyes. You were so angry you were surprised steam wasn’t coming out of your ears.
You raised your voice feeling your blood pressure spike, “You think this is fucking easy? Ellie - I. Am. Miserable.”  You kept taking steps towards her loosing more of your composure the closer you got. “I go to bed super early because I want the day to be over with. I’m drinking every goddamn morning just to get through my patrols or just the fucking day in general.” You took a deep breath sensing how dry your mouth had gotten, “I’m a mess and I can’t keep living like this. This little life you have in Jackson is great and I’m truly happy you’ve found that here but this isn’t me.”
You couldn’t control yourself once you had began. It was like word vomit and you were locked onto Ellie. Whether she wanted to hear it or not you we’re going to make her listen. You had tried to avoid this conversation; tried so hard to soften the blow for her. But of course Ellie wasn’t a fan of this gesture and she just had to poke the bear.
“Am I not allowed to choose the life I want to live? No matter how dangerous and lonely it looks to everyone else. Do I not deserve to be happy?” You ask, your voice breaking. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes and you could feel your body trembling not even bothering to try and hide it anymore.
Ellie couldn’t even look at you as she lifted her arm to turn the door handle, “I didn’t realise.” Ellie mumbled. She shot you one last look and opened the door, “If you’re not happy then you should go.” Without giving you a chance to respond she steps out the building not acknowledging you further.
You felt empty. Unable to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of your heart yearning for her once again. You hated Ellie for not making this easy but you don’t blame her. You couldn't say this to Ellie herself but she was a big part of your decision.
You figured she forgot about your confession in the library and that you had both moved on. However; feelings are never that black and white. They were bottled up and thrown away in the deepest part of your memory, slowly eating you from the inside. Even seeing her and Dina go out for patrols played with your head in the worst way. Your mind would take you back to the state you found them in at the library and you struggled everyday since. Knowing your heart was breaking and not allowing yourself to acknowledge it was a dangerous cycle and that made you turn to various coping mechanisms like alcohol. The last thing you wanted was Ellie to break off her budding relationship with Dina for your sake. Heck, that would make you feel worse. 
Overall, leaving just seemed like the better option. She wouldn’t understand now but maybe in the future you’ll be able to sit her down and have that conversation. If you ever decide to visit that is.
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It was the day after and you just locked the door of the small building that you once called home. You held onto the strap of your backpack and shoved the key into your pocket. The plan was to drop off the key to Maria before you left. You said most of your goodbyes yesterday when you got back from your and Ellie’s ‘trip’. What a disaster that was.
Once you finally cooled yourself off and left the mansion Ellie was already long gone. So as you can imagine the journey back to Jackson was pretty uneventful. Maybe you hurt her more than you’d like to admit but you were too exhausted to face her again.
You arrived at Maria and Tommy’s shared house and knocked on the center of the door loudly. You could hear movement inside and within a few seconds Tommy opened the door greeting you with a dampened smile. You now had a wide view of the familiar layout, not failing to notice the added company at the dining table. Sitting there was Joel and Ellie. Maria was stood not too far away as if she was talking to them about something beforehand.
Shifting your eyes away you looked back at Tommy, “I’m leaving now.” You said pulling the key out from your pocket. Tommy nodded, taking it from you. You could see the hesitation in his movements as he looked back at everyone inside the house. You could see Ellie sat at the kitchen table watching you both closely. Tommy sighed, smiling back at you once again, "Thank you, (Y/n). Do you need any last minute supplies for the road?"
You shook your head grateful for his kindness, "I don't think I'll be able to fit anything else in my bag." You laughed softly, patting it. "Thank you though. I'm sure the supplies you've already given me will help until I find my bearings."
The sound of wooden chairs scraping the floor echoed behind Tommy. You saw Joel walking in your direction with Ellie and Maria not far behind.
Joel nudged past Tommy and wrapped his arms around you. As you both pulled back Joel held onto your shoulders firmly, “Stay safe, kiddo. Remember to trust those instincts of yours.”
You chuckled meeting his eyes, “Sure will old man. You too.” Tommy hugged you afterwards and then Maria. Ellie was stood awkwardly behind them awaiting her turn. At first you weren’t sure if you’d get a goodbye off Ellie.
You caught sight of Maria looking over her shoulder and discreetly nudge her head in your direction. Ellie gave off a large sigh and more or less dragged herself over to you. You knew this could be the last time you get to see Ellie in a while so you pulled her in for a hug, pushing all past events aside. Ellie hugged you back tightly and even gave you a squeeze before she let go.
Your felt a sharp pang in your chest at Ellie’s actions. Ellie is as stubborn as they get and for her to show even a tiny bit of forgiveness was a lot. Especially in such a small amount of time.  
Stepping back you straightened your now wrinkled clothing, “I really can’t thank you guys enough. You really saved my skin back then and I couldn’t be more grateful.” You proclaimed giving Ellie one last glance. “I should probably get going now though since Jesse insisted on escorting me.” You rolled your eyes whilst smiling. You managed to get a chuckle out of the adults but nothing from Ellie. It dampened your spirits but you didn’t let it show. This was your decision and you stand by it.
“Yeah, it’s not a good idea to keep that one waiting. Just remember you are welcome in Jackson anytime.” Maria assured leaning on the door frame.
You thanked her and said your last goodbyes before setting off to meet Jesse. You were in shock at the number of people gathered to wave you off. You must’ve made a bigger impact than you’d like to admit.
Jesse walked you out the gates making idle chit chat. They had offered you a horse but you declined. You wanted to focus on yourself and a horse takes lots of care. It would just hold you back in the long run and it’s not like you had a specific destination.
You abruptly stopped walking and turned to him, “It’s probably best if you turn back now. The last thing I want is you walking back in the dark.” Jesse put his hands on his hips and looked ahead, "I know." He trailed off as you followed his gaze. Jesse then grabbed your wrist and pulled your body closer to him, enveloping you into one of the tightest hugs you’ve ever experienced, "I'm really going to miss you, (Y/N)."
You melted into the hug and smiled contently, “I’m going to miss you too. So much."
You both let go and you stayed there basking in the moment as you watched Jesse head back to Jackson. Turning in the opposite direction you readjusted your backpack and gun holster. You were truly on your own now and it was strangely blissful.
As much as you adored the majority of people living in Jackson you just couldn’t find it in yourself to get comfortable. You never liked to dwell on the what if’s but you mind always seemed to travel there. What if Ellie did reciprocate your feelings? Maybe things would’ve turn out different.
You didn’t know much about Ellie’s backstory with her and Joel’s journey across the city as she only mentioned bits and pieces. You can only assume she’s lost a lot of people and that’s where the fear stems from.
Once you had a routine set up you’d make the journey back to visit Jackson. The people there were practically family and you’d be a fool not to treasure that. However, you needed time to focus on yourself and to understand what you wanted from the world. No matter how broken it may be.
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*2 months earlier*
You sped walked through the lit up streets of Jackson holding a wrapped up slice of cake in your palms. The plan was to patrol with Ellie this morning but Maria informed you that she wasn’t feeling well. You always had this strange coping mechanism when you felt under the weather of eating something sweet; preferably something sugary. So, with that in mind you decided to bake Ellie a cake as soon as you finished patrol.
It was currently evening and even though the street lamps gave you some source of light, it was still pitch black in some areas of town. Thankfully, you knew the route to Ellie's pretty well and soon enough you were standing right outside the nicely decorated garage.
You knocked on the door but there was no response. So, you knocked again. No response. You tried the door handle and almost face planted the floor not expecting it to actually swing open.
You peeked through the door and your eyes landed on Ellie perched at her desk with her back turned. You could hear the faint sound of music playing through her earphones. You recognized the tune almost instantly as it was the one you recommended to her a few nights ago. It almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do.
You quietly shut the door smirking to yourself. Since it was clear she still hadn’t noticed your presence you advanced forward, sneaking up behind her. Once you got close enough you slammed the cake onto the desk; just across from her journal.
Ellie ripped her earphones out and practically jumped out of her skin. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her so startled. Her widened eyes shot in your direction and then quickly softened as she realised it was only you.
“What the fuck, (Y/n)? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Ellie yelled making you laugh out loud. She turned back to her journal slamming it shut and stormed off towards her bed. Ellie was trying to act annoyed but you knew she wasn’t. You found it so amusing as your eyes followed her, trying to contain your laughter. You began wiping away the tears that began to form in your eyes all while catching your breath.
“Holy shit, that was too perfect! You made it so easy for me.” You exclaimed planting yourself on the chair Ellie was just sat on.  Ellie crossed her arms in defiance and began walking towards you. But her eyes weren't focused on you. You followed her gaze and realised it was the cake you narrowly avoided squashing. "Oh, yeah!" You sat up and unwrapped the cake for her. “I baked a cake and since sweet things always helped me get my energy back up I saved you a slice.” You added, pushing the cake towards her.
Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, most likely thinking this was another prank. “Listen, I’m not the best baker but I don’t think it’s going to kill you.”
She hummed walking over to the edge of the desk, “I’ll take this as an apology for scaring the shit out of me just now.” Ellie remarked picking up the cake. You nodded, still smiling at the success of your scare.
"Thanks for visiting by the way. I feel a lot better now than I did this morning."
You shrugged watching her take a test bite, “Of course. Anything for my favourite co-worker.”
You paused for second your eyes growing wider. “Don’t tell Jesse I said that.” You whispered covering the left side of your mouth.
Ellie smirked, smugly striding back over to her bed, “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands, (Y/n).”
“It’s your word against mine.” You challenged leaning back into the chair. Ellie laughed at your childishness and took another bite. “You don’t look that bad though, considering you’ve been ill.”
Your comment caused Ellie to nearly choke on her current mouthful. She quickly composed herself and looked over at you, “Wow, (Y/n). You really know how to make a girl feel special.” You both chuckled at this enjoying each other’s company. You could always joke around with Ellie which was one of the many things you liked about her. Even little things like that felt rare nowadays.
“You know I’m joking. You always look out of this world beautiful!” You exclaimed throwing your hands in the air. Ellie scoffed and mumbled a 'yeah, right' as she ate the last bit of cake.
She was taken back when you suddenly shot up off the chair and kneeled down grabbing her hand, "The last thing I’d want is to offend my dear ol’ Ellie.”
She knitted her eyebrows together in a mixture of confusion and amusement at the sight of you kneeling before her. “Right, that’s it. How much cake have you had?” You looked up at Ellie, your face reddening by the second.
"Too much." You mumbled causing Ellie to pull you off the ground and gently place you on her bed. “The cake was surprisingly good. I got carried away.”
Ellie walked off nodding. She was obviously not listening but making an attempt to look like it. She came back with a glass of water and handed it over to you. “What? I’m not drunk.” You questioned still taking a sip.
“You look dehydrated and I’d be a bad host if I didn’t get you a drink.” You hummed in response and kept drinking.
You set the glass down on a nearby table and faced Ellie again. There has always been one question on your mind ever since you found out about her immunity. You can’t imagine it being a very happy story but you always wondered why she decided to wait out the infection.
You gulped rubbing your palms against your jeans, “So, Ellie.” You breathed out catching her attention. “I’m never one to pry but I’ve always been curious about one thing.” Ellie waited a moment and then proceeded to look down and sigh. She slumped her shoulders and motioned for you to carry on. "The bite mark." You shifted your eyes towards her tattooed wrist, "How'd it happen?"
The silence surrounding you two was heavy but you weren’t looking to pressure her. Ellie put her hands in her jean pockets and walked over to you, "I haven't told this story in a while." She let out a forced laugh trying to hold back the sadness connected to that day.
“Please don’t feel forced to tell me. If it starts to get too much you can just stop, no questions asked.” Ellie presented you with a soft smile and sat down beside you, lightly resting her hand on your leg.
Even though it most definitely wasn’t the time. You couldn’t prevent the shock wave that cascaded through your body at this minor touch.
“It’s okay. It’s just still a lot to wrap my head around to this day.” Ellie explained “I mean, I would’ve turned that day but for some reason I didn’t. I know I should be grateful but I can’t help but have this heavy weight on my shoulders because of it.”
Ellie debriefed you on the quarantine zone in Boston and the fireflies. She was bit at 14 years old along with her friend Riley. She brushed past over the loss of Riley as you could tell it was a part of the story Ellie was straining to tell. 
But ultimately it was Riley’s decision to wait it out in a poetic sort of way. You couldn’t imagine how scary it must've of been especially when they were both so young. You knew that sickening feeling of what could've been and it was obvious Ellie was still clouded by this. You gently placed your hand over Ellie's snapping her out of the dark thoughts that plagued her mind.
"Ellie, look at me." She raised her head. Her eyes telling you so much more than words ever could. "Most of the people in Jackson haven't been through half of the shit you went through. You are so much more capable than most of us just by your experiences alone. I appreciate and enjoy our friendship so much, it pains me to imagine a life without you in it." You closed your eyes and breathed in.
"I know, I can tell by the way you talk about it. You blame yourself for what happened that day. The hardest part of living in this world is that we don't have control even if we believe we do. If you ever feel like things are eating away at you just please talk to one of us. Talk to me. I want to be there for you.” You trailed off, your hands now clutching hers. Ellie seemed to be taken back as if she was still processing your words.
Ellie's eyes never lied and you could see the weight she was carrying fade slightly. You knew you couldn’t help with pain but you could at least be her support if she needed it. She smiled to herself and turned her head away from you, “You’re a good person, (Y/n). I’m glad to have you on my team.” She chuckled.
You rolled your eyes and pushed her slightly. You could tell Ellie was mocking you but still being sincere with her words.
"Could be worse I suppose." You joked, laughing with her. Once the laughter died down you couldn't help but bring yourself to stop and stare. Both of your eyes lingered on each others for a bit too long. You almost allowed yourself to get lost in them until your eyes shifted to the photo of Ellie and Dina hung up above her bed.
You darted your eyes to the floor shuffling along the bed, "You- I mean-," You stuttered now avoiding her gaze, "Its getting late but I'll see you bright and early tomorrow?" Ellie smiled giving you a small nod making you sigh in relief.
You rushed over to the door and touched the door handle. Before you could even attempt to get it open it looked as if somebody had already beaten you to it. The door came to a halt and standing before you was Dina currently holding the door open.
“Oh, hi (Y/n).” Your eyes widened as you looked back at Ellie. You're hoping Dina doesn't read too much into this. I mean you are still Ellie's friend after all.
You returned Dina's greeting with an awkward smile and shuffled past her, “Hi Dina. Sorry, I was just leaving but I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You waved attempting to keep your hair contained due to the wind.
You heard the door shut as you pulled your coat closer to your skin. You felt more alone than ever. You could only imagine what they were doing. Your eyes darkening as the scenarios filled your brain.
You felt crazy for reading into every little touch and gaze Ellie gave you but it was useless fighting it. You can't ignore something you are constantly faced with.
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Wooo! another chapter down & 2 more to go! I’m looking to make this a 5 part series and I can guarantee romance in the next part so stay tuned!
Can you tell my favourite stories are slow burns filled with angst? 
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taglist; @daddy-jareau @hallows3ve @galacticstxrdust​ @elliesslut @tomorrowillbecrucified​ @yamayaki
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teenyweenyeenymeeny · 4 months
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I have a question…💕💕👀
Do different friens of Young Neil call him different nicknames when he’s little or teeny…like as in different people have different pet/nick names for him…like the Sex Bob-Omb members and whoever else..I wanna know…🤝🤝💕/lh
ooh hm… okay here is. Tha thing about this. in the nicest way to Neil… he does not Have. many friends… his friends are sex bobomb and I Do think Wallace [in canon they r more like acquaintances yea but I think they are a Bit closer than that… because I can think Whatever I want] and Knives but she is a little more Complicated…
here you go I will ramble about them all in order of like. Involvement in Neil’s regression
I think I have said he doesn’t mind other people Knowing so I do think some of his classmates are Aware of his regression but I think that he isn’t very close to any of them and since he doesn’t tend to regress at school no one he knows From school has ever really met Younger Neil and they haven’t gotten an opportunity to come up with nicknames for him.
the thing with Knives is. when they were Together I think that Neil was comfy regressing around her and perhaps she would regress around him too [I am still Thinking about whether Knives strikes me As a regressor at all or if the vibes r there because she is Actually a child]. what I am thinking Right now is that maybe Knives experimented with age regression or perhaps age dreaming With Neil but not always… they r kind of Siblings coded when one or both of them is regressed [I think this is Not very weird to say because I don’t think Either of them ever actually liked the other in a Romantic way] newayz Knives liked to be Younger Neil’s big sister sometimes and his little sister other times… and when she was his Big sister she liked to fawn over him and use silly cutesy nicknames [no Specific examples but lots of Calling him cute or sweet or baby 🤍] when she was his Little sister though she was more likely to stick to just calling him big brother and things Similar to that ☆ after Knives and Neil broke up things were a little Harder though and so they didn’t see much of each other for a while maybe…
mmmm Wallace is easier ☆ I don’t know if he has any Neil Specific nicknames he kind of just uses the same ones he does for Scott maybe !! he says buddy or Little buddy or little guy… yeag.
Kim isn’t really A Caregiver she just gets stuck with babysitting duty sometimes tehe and she is more like. Cool Big sister or cousin. Yes. and she is more Teasing with the Little guys I think… so Usually she calls Neil Younger Neil or Even Younger Neil if she’s talking About him but if she’s interacting With him and he’s regressed she would maybe be more likely to call him things like. twerp. or something like that I don’t know I think that she uses silly affectionate “insult” words though… like you see on tv…
Scott n Neil have such a funny dynamic when they r Both regressed I think… because. Scott is usually just a Bit younger than Neil but Neil Seems much younger than he actually regresses to… and so When they r regressed Together Scott is like heehe the baaaby he is so Small and I am so big >:] basically even though he is. The Smaller one hehe. when Scott is Not regressed but Neil is he usually just sticks to Even Younger Neil or Younger Neil though 🤍 tehe
Stephen is the Most involved with Neil when he is regressed because he is like his big brother All the time but the thing is. I think that even though that Has been their dynamic for a while Stephen is still a little awkward around Younger Neil… just a Little 🤍 what I mean is like only for a few minutes Maybe an hour when Neil first regresses and Stephen is with him he’ll worry about making sure he’s like a Good caregiver/big brother and Then he’ll relax into the role a bit more… so I think that. a lot of the time Stephen Worries about what to call Neil if he is regressed because if he says something New what if Neil actually doesn’t Like being called that or something augh so much to think about !! Usually while Stephen is still in his Big Worrying phase he will maybe say man or dude or Maybe buddy… but once he is more comfy he will maybe say Little man Little dude Little buddy etc… hehe. like the rest of sex bobomb though if he’s Referring To Neil and not Talking to him he will probably say Even Younger Neil or Younger Neil though 🤍
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hero-of-crefeld · 9 months
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I just read this article and I couldn't calm down out of joy. We all know what's going to happen to John in the upcoming books, but it seems David is (finally) stepping up to the main ranks and getting the scenes he deserves. And it's going to be great!!!
„One of the great confluences of these rivers in season seven is the love triangle of Claire, Jamie and Lord John Grey (David Berry). Both Claire and John love Jamie "desperately and passionately," Roberts says. "There are so many layers and dynamics between these three people, and this season it'll definitely come to a head. I think a lot of people will fall in love with John again."
For her part, Davis says, "I cannot wait for everyone to see David Berry's performance in season seven. He's outstanding. He just kills it in this role, especially this season. He's really stepped it up."
Perhaps his performance this season will help seal the deal on the long-gestating idea of a Lord John spinoff. "Just speaking for myself, I think the Lord John series is a no-brainer," Davis says. "I would love to see that series. The books are great, and he's such an interesting character."
OMG! ❤️
Full article link:
https://www.emmys.com/news/features/onward-outlander
LOVE your blog! 🥰
Thank you so much for sending this, anon! <3
Here's a direct link to the article for anyone who wants to read it: https://www.emmys.com/news/features/onward-outlander
I apparently had many thoughts on the subject, so the rest is under the cut. :D
I have to begin with: hell yes people are going to fall in love with John! The character is so interesting, and although I find it a bit tedious that we often sometimes only get to see him as this lovesick dude who conveniently shows up to solve Jamie’s problems, I think the show actually does a decent job of portraying him. Because he’s the character you want to know more about. In a show where you have so many characters, he is the one that kind of feels like a main character even though he isn’t one. He feels nuanced and you get a sense of him actually living his life in between making appearances in the show. And that’s something I don’t necessarily get with a lot of the other characters. (Okay, I may be super biased but still!)
Introducing him more firmly into the main story through a love triangle is a good way of at least getting more LJG in our lives. I hope they change the story a bit and tone down homophobic-punches-John-in-the-face Jamie, and I think they will, since they’ve done a great job in making Jamie less conservative in other aspects, too. With regards to what happens later with John, I wonder how much they plan to include in the show. But whatever they do, I hope they don’t run through a million things in a half-assed way and then just go “anyway, that situation resolved itself, don’t worry about it.” But we’ll see.
In any case, it makes me so happy to know that there is support for an LJG spinoff! It’s so true that there is good material to draw from if they were to make it, and I think it would be really great to get a historical show that had an LGBTQ+ main character. But simultaneously, I have to admit that my expectation for such a show would be sky-high, and I would probably throw a tantrum at the smallest historical inaccuracy. (So they’d better do their research unlike DG…) I know it’s historical fiction, but it can be accurate and entertaining. (Fun take, I know) My expectations would anyway be really high because David Berry deserves the world, and that includes flawlessly written shows where he is the main character.
And speaking of David. Oh my god, anon, when I read the words “I cannot wait for everyone to see David Berry's performance in season seven. He's outstanding. He just kills it in this role, especially this season. He's really stepped it up.” my heart skipped a beat. Like I don’t have praise kink, I have a ‘praise David Berry’ kink. I cannot even begin to describe how wonderful it is to read those words. He deserves it so much. I don’t even know what to say… I just… I don’t even know. Like he doesn’t seem like the most confident person in the world, so it makes me so indescribably happy to read about people explicitly saying that he’s amazing. And also the fact that there is talk of a spinoff shows that there is sooo much love not just for Lord John but for David as well. He is the perfect LJG. My heart is so full, anon! So full! And I absolutely get why you can’t calm down out of joy, because hard same!!!
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