#but yeah sorry mossy that you have to see this shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brighttears · 9 months

Text

Pheromones

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description other than having hair and female sex organs, no use of y/n

Summary: while searching through a mall with Tess, Joel, Tommy, and the couple others in your small group, you and Tess find a makeup store and decide to have some fun. It drives Joel crazy and you find out that he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him. You sort it out in a furniture store. (Takes place pre-Boston)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), unprotected PiV, rough sex, Joel has a big ol wiener, public sex, hair pulling, creampie, Joel calls you a slut (with permission), dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, pretty girl, sweetheart)

A/n: here’s another one from the drafts and some nastiness for the folks at home before I disappear for like a week bein busy

—

“Ok, I’m warning you right now, Joel is going to fucking love this.” Tess tells you as she sweeps her finger over your eyelid with a very sparkly shadow called ‘lazy lapis’. You sit crossed legged in front of her next to a dirty floor length mirror, a collection of various makeup supplies spread between you.

You giggle nervously, trying very hard to sound unbothered or confused or indifferent or something, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Joel,” she smiles, “you’re gonna drive him fuckin’ nuts with this.”

“Pff—what do you mean? Why?” You laugh too hard.

“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me. I can tell, and it’s the most entertaining shit I’ve seen in awhile so I’m encouraging you, actually.” She moves your head in her hands, pulling your other eyelid closed to brush on more sparkly blue.

You chuckle and nudge a question further, “Why is it gonna drive him crazy?”

“Because he’s a man, and he already thinks you’re hot, and I doubt he’s seen anyone done up like this in fuckin’ years. You really don’t have to do much at all to get him all hot and bothered. I’m surprised I haven’t caught him drooling already. Now, with the skirt and the shaved legs? Sister, he is done for.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m right, and I can still tell you’re red under all that blush.”

“Fuck off!” You giggle, swatting her hands away, “Ok, that’s enough, your turn.”

“Fine, fine.” Tess smiles, handing you the palette, dropping her hands in her lap and closing her eyes for you with one more chuckle.

You consider the sparkly palette and dip into ‘mossy mess’ to stroke gently over Tess’s lids.

“So, you trying to make anyone ‘hot and bothered’?” You ask her.

“No one in particular. If the right one comes–a–knockin’, though…” You both laugh. “You’re lucky you’ve got one, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, one locked and loaded. Not trying to sound flippant, I just mean—and you can deny it all you want, and I know you’re both still just kickin’ rocks, but he’s got you and you’ve got him. That’s a special thing. It’s not just fucking.”

You hold her chin, tilting to assure it’s mostly even. “We’re not fucking.”

“Not yet you’re not.” She smiles.

You remain quiet as you even out the eyeshadow on either side, glad that her eyes are closed so she can’t see how red you are.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, no, you’re fine, Tess. Here, look,” you take your hands away from her face and turn her to the mirror. While she turns her head left and right, examining herself, you comment, “Green is totally your color.” and smile. She returns a light one, then goes back to staring at herself. Finally, you ask softly, “…You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, haven’t… seen myself in makeup in a long time.” She chuckles, but you can see melancholy behind it in her eyes. She flattens strips of hair over her shoulders and down her chest.

“You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She replies softly, then blinks, clears her throat, and turns to you with a smile. “Alright, where’s the lipstick?”

Allowing back some childish fun, you both giggle, debating shades, laughing at their names, and making fun of each other. You settle on a pink lipgloss for her and she talks you into a blood red matte. The finishing touch is struggling to pencil on eyeliner and applying mascara.

When you’re both all done, Tess whistles and you’re stuck on your reflection. It is a bit startling, firstly because of the bright colors Tess has picked out for you, and because of how much it changes your look. She shifts behind you and lays her head on your shoulder so that your faces are side by side. For a moment you just gawk at each other, then laugh.

It’s a bit of a shock for both of you. One aspect is the experience itself, being ‘girlfriends’, playing with makeup, talking about boys, and feeling pretty. Your mind isn’t sure what to do with it—savor it, try to isolate it, forget what waits outside, or grieve for what’s already inside with you, what you can’t escape, no matter how much you pretend.

Tess decides for you, sighing, “You know, I really, really missed this.”

You hum. “I never saw myself ever doing this at all.” You add, “But I’m really glad I’m doing it with you.”

She smiles brightly at you in the mirror. “Me too, kid.”

“Kid?” You turn to her with a smirk.

“You know I’m never gonna stop calling you that.” Tess slaps your shoulder after she pushes herself up from it. “Come on, we gotta get back. They’ll be sending out a search party any second.”

—

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tommy announces your presence as you and Tess show yourselves back in the food court, getting the attention of the other three scattered around. Joel stands frozen facing you until Clancy throws a spoon at him, which then pings on the floor followed by Clancy’s laugh. Joel turns his head to him with a completely blank expression, except for his slack jaw, which remains down when he looks back at you. Tess elbows you, you shove her back, glancing at him a couple times before sitting down with Tess at a table across from Tommy and setting your packs down, the other seat filled by Neveah with signature lightning speed.

“Was wonderin’ what was takin’ you two so long.” Tommy remarks, smirking.

“You didn’t come and get me?” Nevaeh pouts dramatically.

“We brought some things for you!” You assure her, and Tess sets on the table the paper bag you loaded up for her, which Nevaeh squeals over as she unpacks.

“Could you not make that fucking sound?” Clancy scolds, making Nevaeh’s smile fade and she hunches over a little, sticking her tongue out and making a face at the table instead of him.

“Hey, could you suck my fucking dick, maybe?” Tess calls at him, humor absent on her face. She’s pretty much the only person he’s afraid of, and therefore pretty much the only one he’ll take seriously when she takes that tone.

Refering to your perfume, he calls back, “You fucking stink, by the way.”

“Smell way fuckin’ better than you.” Tess returns.

He gives her a face but shuts up, turning back to digging through the ruins of an Auntie Ann’s. Tommy snickers.

“You find anything good?” Tess asks him.

“I did not, but Joel found a furniture store.” “What’d you find in there?”

“Haven’t checked it out yet, wanted to touch base with you two first.”

“Well I wanna sit down, how about you go sweep it with him?” Tess looks at you. You stare at her, she stares unrelentingly back, smiling, “Come on, he’s not that bad.” You stomp on her foot, she cackles, and when you look at Joel he’s staring right back at you, looking like a deer in the headlights. Refusing isn’t really an option, because for one, it’ll look weirder to everyone else than if you just go, and you don’t want to hurt Joel’s feelings either. You do work well together, plus you’re friends, you like spending time with him, and… well, yeah, you kind of hope Tess is right about this ‘driving him fucking nuts’. You offer him a small smile and get up.

“Go on, Joel, don’t leave the little lady hangin’.” Tommy says to him, Joel shoots him a look, and he cackles just like Tess had to you.

“It’s a big place,” Joel says as he joins you, “it might take a minute. But if we’re not back in an hour, start worryin’.” He calls over his shoulder as he starts out of the food court.

“Alright, just scream if you find anything weird.” Clancy jokes.

“Will do.” You salute him, turning on your heel to follow Joel.

—

It’s silent for a few minutes before you break it to ask, “Are we almost there?”

“Uh, yeah, just around this corner here.”

“Pretty far.”

“Yeah.”

There’s only your footsteps until you’re at the wide glass doors, shattered along with the rest of the panels fronting the shop.

You take your gun and flashlight from your pockets, crossing them over each other as he does and follow him in.

The store is quite big, but wider rather than deep, with a separate room connected by a large open doorway. It doesn't take long to clear the first half due to it being one big open room, so all you have to do is walk around the perimeter, easily able to see over mostly tables, chairs, and couches, assisted by clear lighting coming through the open front windows. Joel glances back at you as you step into the next room, which is darker, the front windows covered by hanging racks of colorful, patterned rugs. Your heart rate increases as you flip through the racks, but there’s nothing hiding between them. The rest of the room is also relatively easy to run through though, being mostly beds. Once all cleared, you both take a deep breath and sit down on one of the large beds in the back corner, down the hall from the open doorway. The give from the bed surprises you and you let yourself sink in.

“Wow.” You chuckle, looking at Joel.

“This must be one of those orthopedic mattresses,” he comments, lips curled.

“If I laid down on this I would be asleep in fucking minutes, I guarantee it.”

You both chuckle, and then feel yourselves realize at the same time that you are currently sitting on a bed together, alone. You look down at your bare knees, pressed together, but don’t move.

“So you did your makeup.” He says.

“Yeah, with Tess.” You look up at him and smile, then decide to add, “Do you like it?”

Joel’s eyes linger for a few seconds and then fall to his feet. “Yeah, I do. Been a long time… since I’ve seen uh… a woman in makeup.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been in it.” You stand then, making him look back up at you, and hold your arms out, “Do you like my outfit, too?” Underneath your normal jacket is a new shirt, actually your size rather than scrounged from other people’s belongings, and below it is a short skirt. You took an actual pair of pants, too, but just for fun, you decided to try this out, even if just for a few hours; and, when you picked it out, you did have him on your mind, just a little bit.

Joel looks you over, throat bobbing as he swallows, “Yeah, yeah,” he swallows again and looks down, “I–I do.” His smirk is shy when he looks back up at you, “Makes me feel like a man.”

“You are a man.”

“Well I know, but it just… y’know, you look like… a woman. Not to say you don’t usually, I mean, well, you look… desirable—shit, that sounds bad. You always look desirable, I just mean, uhm,” Joel clears his throat, panic visible in his eyes, and you can’t hold back the smile growing on your lips. Tess was right. “I’m not tryna—I mean, I just, fuck, I’m tryna say you look really good. And you know, there’s not a lot of… mainstream, uh, girly stuff left, and it just looks really good on you.”

“Why does that make you feel like a man?”

“Eh, uh, b–because… I guess what fits better is that you make me wanna be a man. More of a man.”

“What’s being more of a man?”

Joel is completely lost in how to respond. No way can he get away with being as crass as you’re kind of asking him to be. Nothing he thinks of trying to say sounds right, either patronizing you, accidentally insulting you, being mean, or lying.

You take a huge risk, based on your trust in Tess, and he watches you with wide eyes as you walk over, bending his head up when you’re over him, and removing his hands from his lap when you sit down on it. You wrap an arm over his shoulders. Moving fluidly and automatically, one of Joel’s hands goes to your lower back, the other smoothing over the end of one of your legs, down your knee, resting at the top of your shin.

“You shave your legs?” He asks, soft but audibly astonished. Round brown eyes look up at you and you allow your free hand to rest over his chest.

“Mh–hm.” You nod.

His eyes flutter.

“You wanna fuck me, Joel?”

He swallows. At this point, you’re sure you’re right, you just don’t know if you can actually ask him, like that, like this, now. He blinks. Out of embarrassment, your face heats and your heart begins to race. You nervously pull the fabric on his shoulder into a fists and then smooth it back out, looking for every clue you can in how his face moves.

“Yes.” He finally admits, mostly plain, a little nervous. Then, he swallows again, and looks into your eyes while he moves his hand back up your leg, over your thigh, slowly into your skirt. Your lips part as his fingers graze over the very top of your thigh. He slows more as he lays his hand flat, then inches it down to inbetween your legs. You open them up, but he pulls them apart himself further to slide his hand down over your front, thumb resting on the top of one of your thighs while the rest of his digits pet over your pussy. A breathy moan escapes you and he breathes deeply out through his nose. His eyes flick to your lips and you lean down slowly to meet his. The softness of the kiss doesn’t last long, and while one of your hands grips his hair, moving your mouth into his, the other is tugging at the collar of his shirt.

The heat is on, and Joel moves quick, pulling his arm around your back to maneuver you onto the bed, leaning over you to keep his tongue in your mouth, one hand on the bed and the other back down under your skirt. You grasp the front of his shirt in both fists as if to secure his position and eagerly link to his mouth, concern over the lipstick a ghost of a thought, that of the others out there not much more of one. Fuck all of that, you don’t even care if they hear you.

Joel removes his hand from you and you whimper, but they go to your hands on his shirt and you let him take them to instead intertwine with his and press into the bed.

“Fuck,” he breathes outs, hot into your mouth, “baby,” you whine at the nickname, biting his lip to pull his mouth back in. He has to pull away to get a chance to speak, both breathing hard, your hands trapped against the bed. Joel’s eyes wander down to your chest as it rises and falls, then back up, pausing at your lips, then up to your eyes. “Goddamn, baby girl, look at’chou.” You whine and chuckle and his teeth flash. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,”

“Shit,” he takes a long breath out and hums, looking over you again. He pauses over you, then leans down for a softer, sensual kiss. The end is drawn out, neither of you able to take your lips away, until he raises up again, freeing your hands, but then comes back down, using his arm on the bed once again to hover over you while his other hand slides over your face. His expression alone has you soaking wet, you’ve been dreaming of something like this for months, pretty much ever since you met him, and finally, here it is, literally on top of you. His mouth is smeared with red and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What?” He asks, breathing a chuckle with his eyes stuck on your lips.

“You look good in lipstick.”

“Shit, it’s all over me, isn’t it?” You nod and giggle. “Well I’ll deal with that later.” He leans down to your lips again, his hand smoothing up and down your leg. The heat between you is electrifying, snaking tongues and bodies rolling to meet each other. Inside your chest, rising high and dipping low, is its own event, hot, heart rapid, butterflies and all. It reaches down between your legs, too—quivering, throbbing, a needy sensation. Joel does something to your body that you don’t even consciously understand. All you know is he’s not touching enough of you, so you pull your legs in to draw him closer. He follows your lead and lets his groin press against yours, hand feeling over your inner thigh, so sensitive, his touch the only one you want there, you’d trust there.

He pulls his face away then, looking over your face as he slides his hand up to your chest, kneading your breast, then comes up under your shirt, twisting your nipple in between his fingers. You let out a shaky breath, watching him watch you with his jaw slack.

“Joel,” you whine quietly, unsure of what you’re begging for, just more.

“Mmm, you need me to fuck?” He growls into your mouth.

“Fuck, yes,”

“I’ll give you what you need babygirl, don’t’chou worry.” Joel smirks, eyes fixed on yours as he takes the hand from your chest down to undo his belt in one swift motion. He quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down enough to free his cock, as large as you expected, hard and colored by veins. Joel pumps it slowly, his hips rolling into his own hands. “Shit, you’ve got me fuckin’ going. Need you so bad, baby girl.”

You furrow your brow at him; you couldn't help this pleading expression if you tried. You’ve had sex, even good sex, during the apocalypse, but never has someone taken much actual time for foreplay. And, you’ve never had sex with someone you’re this attracted to, nope, not by far.

“Joel, fuck me,” you whine quietly.

With a growl, Joel stands on his calves, keeping one hand up your shirt and the other still on his manhood, then shifts his hand up to work at removing your jacket and shirt. While you take it off yourself, in the brief moments where it blocks your vision, you feel Joel pulling at your skirt and panties at the same time, and when you can see again as you toss your clothes off the side of the bed, it’s at the perfect moment—Joel is pulling his t-shirt up over his head, his arms stretched up showing off the muscles as they shift with his movements, the roundness of his belly, and his pants already down with his hard length almost touching his belly. He doesn’t bother moving his jeans down anymore, just grabbing your thighs to tug you closer to him, then hooks an arm under one of your legs to hold up. His free hand slithers over you, feeling your hips, belly, around your waist, over your breasts, up to your face. His thumb pulls at your lip, trailing red down your chin.

“You wearin’ all this to get me goin’, huh? All that perfume. God damn been so long since I’ve seen a woman so prettied up like this. You’re gorgeous, you know that? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Joel leans down, forcing your leg further up under his arm, and drags heavy lips over yours. When he pulls away your lipstick is streaked all over his mouth and you laugh breathily.

Joel smirks, then drawls,“Pretty girl.” As he speaks, his hand slides back down your body to back between your legs, making you gasp.

“Sooooo fuckin’ wet for me. Can I call you a slut, sweetheart?” He quickly checks in, you laugh and nod. “Yeah, you know you are.” While his thumb circles your clit he eases a finger inside of you. Your head leans back and you moan out because Joel’s finger is inside of you. That’s his trigger finger, too. “Yeeeah, I know, baby. You need a big man to make you feel good, don’t’chou baby? Huh?” He curls his finger and you gasp deeply, rolling back until your back arches, eyes closed, overwhelmed with pleasure. He hasn’t even done much, but your want for him makes every move more sensitive. “God fuckin’ damn it, that’s right baby. That’s right.” Joel removes his finger and you lay back flat to watch him dramatically lick your juices off of it, briefly closing his eyes as he does. Then, he shifts his hips closer, “Imma give you what you want now, babygirl, what you need, my big fat cock inside you, my pretty little fuckin’ slut.” And he does, taking himself in his hand to slowly glide into you, all the way in, and as you whine a moan he sucks in a breath. Once inside, he starts to very slowly pull in and out, only by an inch at most first. His fingers dig into your thigh that he holds against his hip. His other arm, hooked under your leg, angles to raise it up straight, sliding his hand up so that he can kiss your ankle as he moves, pulling farther out for longer strokes in. Joel fills you completely, just on the verge of pain, but the foreplayed paid off, as does the level of attraction you feel for him, widening you up for him, ready, wanting, carnal.

You’re noisy as he speeds up, hitting your head back on the bed repeatedly and grasping at the sheets.

“Joel you’re so big,”

“I know I am, and I know you love it. Yeah, you need a real man to show you how it’s done. You did yourself up just so I’d fuck you didn’t you? Huh?” He emphasizes his question with a jolt, hitting against your limit.

Head back and arms spread, you answer, “Yes, yes, Joel, harder like that,”

“Mmm. Yeah?” Brutally, he obliges, and slips directly into your A spot, his length able to easily hit that area near your cervix. You react loudly and throw an arm down, reaching generally towards him. “You were lookin’ for a big man to fuck you good, that’s what you need. You need this,” Joel bucks into your harder, firmly hitting that spot inside of you that twists a snake of pleasure up through your whole body, making your chest feel full and you relax your legs, letting them fall open farther for him, overwhelmed with need for him. The only thought in your head is—

“Joel, yes, more, god, please, fuck,”

“Tell me you’re my little slut, my pretty little slut.”

“I’m your pretty little slut, fuck, uh-huh,” you whine out a high “yeah,”

As he lowers his grip to your hip, your leg falls back over his hooked arm, and he copies the position with his other. Your legs bump against his arms as he slaps against you, his hair bouncing with the force of it, and to the beat of skin against skin are your moans and his grunts, growls, moans, and voice, telling you things like “Pretty woman needs a real man to fuck her” “All prettied up just for me” “That feel good?” “I fill you up so good?” and you accompany with a chorus of “Fuck” “Oh my god” “Yes” “So good” “I need you so bad” “Fuck me fuck me”

“Oh, fuck,” Joel’s voice shakes and he removes one of his hands under you, “Can I pull your hair baby?”

“Yes,”

One hand still holding your hip for him, his other holding a bundle of hair down into the bed, you get a full show of his mouth, forming O’s, licking and biting his lips, his eyes intermittently squeezes shut, rolling up, his head leaning back then returning to you, to watch himself slam into you, watching your chest bounce, on your lips, back in your eyes.

“My beautiful lady, all made up for me to fuck, baby can I cum in you?”

“Yeah,” you moan out.

“Yeah, you’re made for me to cum in. You made up just for me to cum in, ah, fuck,” Joel’s head flips back and when it returns he removes his arm from under your thigh, pressing deeper into you to make up for the grip, then held in place by his body on yours as he drops down. One arm falls to support his hovering, forearm on the bed, so that he can rub his other hand over your face. He drags his thumb out from your eyelid, pulling both the color and mascara, making your eyes water, “Pretty woman, waitin’ for your man,” his fingers drag down to your open mouth, then gently squeezes your cheeks and swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, “to fuck you good. Only a man can fuck a woman this good. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh–huh,”

Joel hums, then, more devouring your mouth rather than kissing you, nipping at your lips, swirling his tongue, dragging his wet mouth around yours.

The bed is shaking wildly now as he bucks his hips against yours, deep, hard, and fast, in the most erotic fashion you’ve ever experienced—not the jackhammer, copying porn kind, but a genuinely lustful force, still directly in the spot that derives a satisfaction that pulls your legs around him, holding him in place as you draw closer to your climax.

This movement makes Joel almost chuckle, and he fucks even more impassioned. The forearm on the bed lifts for his hand to find yours, intertwining your fingers to hold down on the bed. He keeps his other hand on your face, cupping your cheek. “You need me, you need me, tell me you need me baby,” you can tell Joel is nearing the edge by the way his tone heightens.

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you obey truthfully.

“My god, can’t believe I get to fuck you like this, I get to cum inside you, cause I’m your man, you’re my woman, and I make you feel good,” Joel punctuates perfectly with one hard, deep thrust that finally takes you out. Your free hand awkwardly grabs at his wrist near your face as you torso rolls off the bed, as high as it can with his body pressing you down. Your legs squeeze around him and then release to open as wide as they can, and all you can think about is how much you need him to keep fucking you, how much you want him to cum inside of you, and you remember how much he’ll want to hear it, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming you make me feel so good please cum inside me I want you to cum inside my pussy, ahh, mmm, show me I’m yours Joel, fuck me like I’m yours,”

“Oooohh, baby,” Joel drawls, your mouths lazily and helplessly dragging over each others as Joel bounces you up and down underneath him, “I’m gonna cum,”

You reach your free hand up to grip his hair and tell him, “Finish inside me Joel I need your cum in my pussy, my pussy just for you, I’m yours, fuck your cum into me, fuck me til you can’t anymore, I wanna take all of it, I wanna make you feel good, I wanna make my man feel good, let me make you feel good Joel,”

He goes silent for one moment and then his whole body rocks into you, face messily pressed on yours, both of you releasing open mouthed moans, which he grunts through with his last final bucks, stroking out his ropes of cum. He slows, but stays inside you, fully riding his orgasm out, basically slurping your lips. You lay nearly limp under him, still grasping his hand, then moving your other over his cheek, watching his expression as he finishes.

After a few more moments, he finally slides out of you and then sits back up on his calves to hike his jeans back up. When he’s covered, both hands come back down to smooth back and forth your thighs, shamelessly staring at your still open pussy.

“Guess it doesn’t matter if we make a mess on this bed.” You chuckle, and he smiles up at you, teeth parted with a tug on one side of his lips. He shifts back up to over you to kiss you again with a long, soft moan, then sits back up, pulling your panties and skirt back up with one hand to then gracefully lift you back up to straddle his lap. His arm wraps around your waist with one over your cheek, and your hands come to rest on his bare chest, bare belly’s on each others.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “I fucked you’re makeup up, sorry.” He mumbles, smiling.

“It’s alright, it was just for you, anyways.”

“Really?” Joel smirks shyly.

“Kinda, yeah,” you smile back.

“Lucky me.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to swipe your fingers over his lips. “We gotta remember to take yours off, too.”

Joel closes his eyes and chuckles, “Shit, yeah we do.”

You hum a chuckle back, watching your fingers. How long you’ve been wanting to be able to touch him like this, be this close to him.

“This took too goddamn long.” He mumbles, and you blush at his thoughts matching yours.

“Sure did.” Then, you swallow, smile fading.

“What is it, baby?”

You look down but keep your hand on his face, savoring the touch. “I guess I should have said this before, but, I don’t want this to be… like… I don’t want to just be your fuck buddy.”

“Oh, no, no,” Joel quickly answers, “I don’t want that either. I really like you.”

You look back up at him and he swallows hard under your gaze. A relieved smile slowly spreads over your lips and you slide your hand to the back of his neck, looping a finger in his hair. “I really like you, too.” You chuckle then, “I feel like a teenager.”

Joel grows his own smile, “Me too.”

You kiss him again then, gentle and slow. When you pull back, he hums with a slanted smile, eyes half lidded.

“We should probably get back.” You whisper.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Joel sighs, then lets you out his grasp.

You slide down and get off the bed to stand, looking around you, “Shit, how am I gonna get this off?” You wipe your hands over your face, only really dragging the makeup around.

Joel slips off the bed to stand, searching around with you before reaching around to grab the corner of the sheet. “Here,” he pulls it up to begin stroking it over your face. His brow is slightly pinched as he goes, methodically removing your makeup for you. Then he stands back some and sighs, “Good ‘nough.”

“Your turn,” you take the sheet from him and wipe at his mouth. The lipstick is more resistant, but the remaining saliva helps to get off as much as you can, though the act itself is a bit distracting.

“Alright, that’s the best I can do.” You look back up to his eyes and stop in his dreamy gaze.

“You’re blushing.” He whispers with a slight smirk.

“You’re dreamy.” You admit freely.

“Dreamy?” He smirks further.

Sheepishly, you say, “Yeah,” but your shyness is relieved when his lips meet yours again. You drop the sheet to smooth your hands over his still unclothed shoulders and Joel rests his hands on your hips.

He pulls away then, keeping hold of your body, “Alright, we really should get going.” You nod, sighing, then let go for him to grab his shirt and jacket to pull back on while you do the same.

You watch each other as you adjust yourselves, and then Joel leans in, pulling your cheek for a quick kiss. He keeps his hand there when he whispers, “You’re so damn beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm again. Then he steps back with a slanted smile, “Gotta admit, that's the best sex I’ve had in years.”

“God, me too.” You both chuckle, then he reaches over to take your hip and turn you back to walk down to the door next to him.

“Alright, let’s go before they come lookin’.”

—

“Hey! You wiped off all my hard work!” Tess calls out as you approach. She, Tommy, Nevaeh, and Clancy are now all gathered at a table, talking and laughing while Nevaeh sorts through her pile of makeup.

“Ah, it just got annoying.” You lie with a nervous smile and tug at the hem of your skirt, “I’m just not used to it. It feels, like, heavy, you know? So I just took it off.”

“Mmm.” she nods, completely unconvinced.

“So, all clear?” Tommy shouts over to you.

“All clear.” Joel replies.

As you sit, you see Tess turn her attention to Joel next to you with a smirk, tapping her finger at a spot just under her lip. Joel quickly takes the hint and attempts to stealthily wipe away what must be stray lipstick. Tess shakes her head, trying to hide her laughter, and you focus down on the table, amused but embarrassed and a bit nervous of who else may have noticed. Being the good friend that she is, Tess speaks up, loudly beginning an unrelated conversation. Soon, you feel safe enough to look back up and join the conversation. Under the table, Joel sneaks a quick squeeze of your knee and then you lean it into his. He turns to you, smirk visible in his eyes as he looks up and down your face, and then turns back to the conversation, pressing the side of his legs against yours.

“You know, I like it in here.” Nevaeh comments, swiping colors over her wrist.

“We could always stay here for a night or two, there's that furniture store, beds in there right?” Tommy turns to you to ask.

You and Joel both freeze. You’re tempted to lie, but Joel clears his throat and speaks before you do. “Uh yeah, but they’re all pretty dirty.”

“Are they now?” Tess raises her eyebrows with a smirk and you try not to smile back, widening your eyes and shooting her a look.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re been sittin’ in there for fuckin’ years.” Joel recovers.

“Fair enough,” Tess says, pointedly not looking at either of you, “Plus, who knows who's done what on those? Fucking golden opportunity for anyone who’s even thought about fucking whoever they’ve come in this place with.”

“Gross!” Nevaeh screws her face up at her.

“She’s not wrong.” Clancy says, leaning back in his chair. You catch him glancing at her next to him and laugh. “What?” He demands defensively.

You shake your head, still chuckling, “Nothing.”

“Well, there’s always couches, right?” Tommy asks, looking at Joel.

“Plenty a’ couches.” He assures him, nodding.

“There we are then. We’ll stay the night at least.” Tommy decides and you all nod in agreement.

When you turn to Joel he gives you a knowing look, eyes widened with a slight smirk, and squeezes your knee under the table. You slide your hand down over his and he slips in into his, intertwining your fingers. You remind yourself to thank Tess later.

2K notes · View notes

tarrynightss · 1 year

Note

Hate sex with Jake sully?

Yes please ;)))

pairing: Jake Sully x fem!na’vi!reader

cw: smut, rough sex, hair pulling, biting, p in v, really it gets so rough they’re literally fighting, some mentions of blood, bit of a breeding kink, use of the word bitch in a derogatory sense, choking

tag: @nin3kyuu

Teaching Jake Sully the way of the People was aggravating. He’s thick headed, cocky, and it feels as if he listens to you only half of the time. He’ll mumble under his breath when you scold him, saying words that he knows you won’t understand, but the snide tone makes it clear that he’s cursing. If your Tsahík had not decided to tie you to the sky demon, then you would’ve happily let him stumble through the forest by himself. Maybe Eywa would’ve let him die after all after seeing his foolishness.

Jake’s feet stomp into the mossy forest floor as he runs, his arms swinging beside him. He’s not doing as you taught him. He’s running like a sky person, uncontrolled and unseeing, without a care of what sound he makes or the tracks he leaves behind.

“Ftang nga!” Stop that! You hiss but he ignores you, his brow creasing as he focuses on going as fast as he can. “Oìss!”

You ponder for a moment if you parents would truly be mad if you let the sky demon run himself to his death, the steep cliff ahead so far unnoticed by him. A snarl leaves you, knowing that you cannot let it happen. You had to follow Eywa’s will even if you didn’t like it.

“Stop!” you shout again, this time jumping onto Jake.

It makes him fall and the two of you roll over the ground, grimacing as you feel a rock tear the skin on your arm. It’s not long before you come to a sudden stop.

Jake has ended up on top of you and once the shock wears off he stares at you in anger. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“You don’t see!” you hiss in his face.

He returns the gesture, his face inching closer to yours. He thinks he can intimidate you? He’s nothing more than a dreamwalker, a being using the flesh of your people. With a sharp thrust of your knee into his stomach you force him off of you, Jake gasping for air as you jump up.

“Look!” you shout angrily and point towards where the forest floor ends. The sky is filled with mist, making it hard to see the giant drop ahead.

His face is filled with irritation as he scrambles up, one hand holding his sore stomach. When he walks closer to the edge, he finally sees it. If he would’ve kept running for about two minutes more he would’ve gone flying.

“Shit.”

You prowl back over to him, hard gaze taking in his barely scratched up form. “Yes, shit.”

It’s not fair that you are the one bleeding because of his foolishness. You sit down on a nearby tree trunk to inspect your wound, your ears pinned back in anger. It’s shallow, the rock barely having pierced your skin. With a bit of salve from the Tsahík there will be no mark left.

“I’m sorry, okay,” Jake says, slowly creeping closer.

The look on his face is apologetic, yet you feel it is not completely sincere.

“Sorry?” Your big eyes narrow at him. “You run around like a child!”

His lips press into a thin line as he squats down, rubbing a hand over his hair. It is clear he wants to say something, but is reluctant to do so. You were injured because of him, but still you could be a real bitch.

“You could’ve just told me,” he says finally, almost under his breath.

Told him?! He had been training with you for almost two months now.

You hiss again. “Do you think someone holds our hand while we hunt? You need to learn to-“

“See!” Jake snaps before you can finish your sentence. “Yeah, I know, you say it all of the fucking time.”

You inhale deeply. Never had you met such an infuriating man before. His jaw tenses as he watches you, tail swishing across the ground behind him. And confident, oh so confident. It is as Mo’at said; you cannot teach someone who’s cup is already full.

“You are impossible,” you say as you throw your hands up. “Will never learn.”

He turns his head away from you with an annoyed sound, choosing to rather stare off into the forest than look at you.

“Nì'ul kame tskxe,” A rock sees more. You hiss quietly.

His ears perk up and even more irritation flashes over his face at not knowing what you are saying. “Yeah? Well maybe they should assign me someone else. Someone who isn’t a bitch.”

Bitch. He had used that word before, but you do not know what it means. The last time he had said it was when you had slapped his head when attempting to teach him your language, groaning it between gritted teeth.

“What is bee-aaich?” you attempt. You know he is insulting you, but you want to know exactly how.

A smirk pulls at his lips as he glances your way. Oh, he really shouldn’t tell you. It’s clear from your tense body and pinned ears that not much will be needed to further fuel your anger. He should keep it to himself like he had done before, but today he’s feeling particularly petty.

“It’s what humans call female dogs, a type of animal we have. Sort of like those Viperwolf things,” he explains but you frown.

“A nantang?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

You shake your head and lean back on your tree trunk. “I don’t understand. Is it not insult?”

Jake has another chance to wiggle out of it, but will he be wise enough to take it? He looks at you, your head cocked to the side as you await his answer.

He chuckles to himself. “It’s… hard to explain. Do you know when a creature goes into heat and it’s just yapping, growling and scooting all over the place? It’s acting like a bitch.”

Your cheeks flare up and you shake your head more firmly this time, angry eyes piercing into him. Though you still do not completely understand it, his explanation gave you enough ground to be offended. You would never go into heat over a male like him, nor act like it.

You jump up from your spot. “Heat? You are no man!”

“No, that’s not what I meant-“ he starts but stops as he sees how you are staring down at him.

You seem to mean your words, looking at him with a mixture of disgust and anger.

He stands up, ever so slightly towering over you as he approaches. You don’t budge, standing your ground till his chest is almost pressing against yours.

“No man, huh?” he questions.

You bare your teeth at him. “No man. Your mind and body are weak. No woman would have you.”

Jake had swallowed a lot of shit from you in the last few months. Pretty much every day you scolded him, slapped him, clearly thinking of him as less than. He could see your hate for him in your eyes, and the fiery feeling started growing within him as well. This was the last match to send that fire roaring, the last kick to his manhood that he could take.

His nostrils flare as he studies your face. “Is that right?”

The small twitch at the corner of your lip does not go unnoticed by him, a borderline smug look forming on your face.

“Yes.”

The sky demon closes his eyes for just a second as he exhales deeply. Before you can say another word he has grabbed you by your beaded top, making you gasp out in shock.

“How about I show you?”

Your heart pounds in your ears at his words and you attempt to get his hand away from you. It won’t budge, and as he hauls you even closer you can hear some of the threading of your top ripping.

“You will break it!” you hiss.

He only grabs it tighter, beads popping out between his fingers and falling to the ground. His gaze travels from your face to your chest, clearly able to see your nipples poke through your top. “Who cares? I don’t get why you even wear it in the first place. Everybody can see your tits anyway.”

You spit in his face and he flinches, his grip on you slightly wavering. It’s enough to allow you to pull yourself loose, your top tearing to pieces in the process. If there’s one thing Jake hadn’t expected you to do, it was spit on him, and he wipes his face off with his hand. The growl he lets out makes your resolve waver, his fury so clear.

As soon as you decide to run, he’s on you, pulling you back by the braid that encases your queque. You cry out in pain as you scramble to scratch his hands away, but soon he has pulled you back into his body.

“Good kitty,” he mocks as he holds you against his chest, his own heart beating fast and hard.

One hand holds you by the braid as the other grabs onto your hip, forcing your ass back against his crotch. A mewl leaves your lips as he grinds into you, your body instantly responding despite your protesting mind. It senses Jake’s potential as a mate, the natural instinct to reproduce overruling all.

“Like I said, a bitch,” he chuckles into your ear.

The evidence of his growing arousal presses against your ass every time he bucks into you. He may not like you, but fuck did you always look hot in those tiny tops and loincloths the Na’vi wear. It left little up to the imagination, and he had spent many moments alone stroking his cock at the memory of it.

Confident that you’ll continue grinding on him, he moves his hand from your hip to fondle your breasts. He squeezes the soft flesh harshly in his hands, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers.

You try to find your own anger again, growling in between the rapid pants that leave your lips. It seems that Jake wants to fuck you like a Na’vi, his hand so tightly wrapped around your braid. The ache between your legs urges you to fulfill his request, but you won’t make it easy on him. He’ll be getting the full experience.

Suddenly, you force your head down and to the side, biting into his wrist. He curses out in pain as your teeth lock around him, tears rolling down your own cheeks from your queque harshly being pulled at.

“Fuck! Shit!” he lets go of your braid to force your jaw open. You are locked onto him like a fucking pitbull, his fingers prying at your cheeks.

When you finally let go he stumbles back, staring at you in disbelief. The faintest hint of blood stains your lips and you carelessly wipe it off, a self satisfied grin forming on your face. You didn’t draw a lot of blood really, just enough to scare him.

Taking advantage of his shock, you jump onto Jake and tackle him to the ground. He grunts in pain as you straddle him and lick a long stripe from his collarbone up to his chin. He tastes like desire, fury and fear, the mixture so potent that it makes you groan low in your throat.

He does not know how to react, watching you as your face pulls back from his neck. Your pupils are dilated with desire, your tail stroking almost teasingly past his legs. The fighting had clearly gotten you going.

It’s only when you move lower down his body, fingers fumbling with his loincloth, that he springs to action.

“Oh no, you are not getting near that,” Jake says and pushes your head further away from his crotch.

You hiss, baring your teeth at him as you push back against his hand in protest.

The sight makes him grimace. “Yeah, exactly for that reason. Need a fucking muzzle for you, shit.”

You are displeased by his response. Never had you noticed how good he smelled before today. Maybe it was because of your sudden desire, but you wanted to seek out the source, and he was not allowing you.

You open your mouth, fully intending to chomp down on his thigh in revenge, but he grabs onto your braid and yanks you back before you get the chance.

Jake pulls you upwards by your hair, making it so that you are straddling his clothed cock again. You growl your protests but after all that biting he isn’t listening. His hand comes down hard across your cheek, making that side of your face tingle and your mouth close up.

“Shut up,” he hisses at you, shaking you by your hair.

A wave of arousal washes over your body at his rough treatment. This is how many of you mated, fighting for dominance till the woman was stuffed full of seed. You had not expected Jake to have it in him, but perhaps you had been wrong.

He sits up slightly to bring his mouth to your breasts, sucking and biting at your hardened nipples. You allow him to do so for a bit, moaning at his touch. A yelp leaves you when he bites down harder on one of your nipples. His amber eyes shoot up to look at you, taking in your pleasured face as his tongue flicks out to lick at the now sore bud. You looked so beautiful like this.

“Is that all you have, Jake Sooly?”

But god does he wish you would shut up.

Jake turns his attention to his next target, this time biting your nipple harder till you start squirming and trying to push him away. Your chest rises and falls rapidly against his face as he laps at your breast afterwards, admiring the slight shades of purple that your nipples have blossomed into.

Your hand finds his braid and you tug at it, making him groan lowly against your flesh. He feels how sensitive it is now, any pulling quickly turning painful, and so he does it to you some more. You hiss at him like an angry cat as he continues his assault on your nipples, biting and sucking till you cry out in protest.

Your core throbs as he pulls away from your chest. His eyes are glazed over with lust and a smug smile adorns his face. But once again, he’s getting too cocky, wrongly assuming that you’ll just sit prettily while he basks in the moment.

“Repxìsu does it better,” you purr meanly, snapping your teeth at Jake’s arm and making him let go in reflex. You roll yourself off of him and turn your back to him, wishing for it to appear as if you got bored.

Repxìsu? Jake grits his teeth. That lean shit that always hangs around you at the village. Yeah, Jake remembers him.

In a flash, Jake is on you, pressing down on your back till you are on hands and knees for him. Content with his reaction, you turn your head to look back, but are shocked to find him moving in on your shoulder. He bites down on it harshly, unable to control his own strength yet. You cry out in pain underneath him but don’t move. It feels so good. You can feel your wetness start to drip down your thighs as he holds you down, his large body staying put on top of you.

His fangs finally leave your skin, thin smears of blood staining it.

“Does that Repxí cunt do that to you, huh?” Jake questions and you shake your head wildly.

His hand finds the base of your tail, grabbing onto it harshly as he starts tearing off both of your loincloths. You can hear the fabric ripping, Jake far too impatient to properly take them off. Your tail coils around his arm like a vice, your ass pressing into his now bare crotch eagerly. His thick cock slides past your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine.

“What happened to ‘no female will want me’?” he asks, a smirk playing at his lips as his fingers seek out your dripping core.

He prods at your entrance before quickly sliding two fingers into it, groaning at your wetness.

You glance back at him with sharp eyes. “I do not want you,” you look him over with an unimpressed look. “I just want your cock.”

His smirk drops and he curls his fingers up into your cunt, stroking your insides at a hard pace. Unbelievable. He is convinced that no matter what he does you’ll always disapprove of it. He could be taking a shit and you would still tell him he’s doing it wrong.

You cooed underneath him, eager to take more of his fingers inside of you as if you had not just insulted him. Why did he even want your approval? You are insufferable, your only redeeming quality being your body.

“Fuck,” Jake curses angrily as he spreads his fingers, the slick walls of your cunt easily giving way. “Why am I even preparing you? Slut like you don't need it.”

After a few more harsh strokes from his fingers, he pulls them out of you and presses your body further down into the grass. He leans in over you, licking past the shell of your ear as he tugs on your tail.

“Tell me you want me to breed you.” A confident high fills him at the thought of you saying those words.

You scoff at him, tongue flicking past your bottom lip as you glance back at him. Your cunt clenches around nothing in a silent yes, but you’d never admit that. “Is that what you need to hear to feel like a man, Sooly?”

He grinds his teeth together as a darker shade flushes over his cheeks in humiliation. With a growl, he wastes no more time and lines himself up with your slick entrance, instantly thrusting his full length into you when it gives way. Your nails dig into the grass beneath you as you cry out at the overwhelming feeling of being filled. Great mother, why was a being this stupid blessed with such an amazing cock?

Jake’s body presses down on top of yours as he starts thrusting into you wildly, harsh slaps of skin against skin resounding throughout the forest. Never had he imagined that you would feel this good. Your wet cunt sucks him in so deliciously, spurring him on to take you harder. Finally you are no longer insulting him either, slutty moans falling from your lips as you let him fuck you as he pleases.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he purrs and bites down into your shoulder once again, his cock twitching inside you as he marks you. “Good little bitch.”

His fangs biting and scraping against your skin makes your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. Everyone would see that you had let him take you, a thought that should fill you with disgust and shame but in the moment you did not care. He had won this.

Jake pulls you back on his cock by your tail at every thrust, enjoying the way you start to hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure at his bruising grip. His pace is relentless, fucking into you like it’s his last day alive.

“Fucking say it,” he groans as he feels his cock hitting against your cervix, your body writhing underneath him. “Say you want me to breed you.”

Your attempt at a scoff turns into a pathetic whine as the walls of your cunt clench around him. His strokes are hitting so deep, so good. It feels like your brain is turning to mush.

“Say it!” Jake commands and frees his hand from your tail only to bring it down onto your ass in a hard slap.

You scream out underneath him, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. To let him do it is one thing, but to say it out loud? You shake your head weakly. That would be too much to give to that cocky asshole.

When another hard slap against your ass still doesn’t cause you to relent, he decides to try another approach. His hand snakes around to your front so he can grip onto your throat, feeling your breath hitch underneath his fingers when he squeezes down.

Your cunt clamps down around his length as you gasp, your hands ripping out the grass underneath you.

“Shit,” Jake groans as he feels his thrusts starting to falter, the feeling over your walls squeezing his cock becoming too much.

He hisses into your ear as he chokes you, making you whimper in a pathetic display of submission. “Say it.”

The tears that had gathered in your eyes fall down as it becomes harder to breathe. It causes an odd sensation inside of you, and you let out a silent scream as your body rushes towards your orgasm.

“Breed me!” you choke out. “Do it you vonvä!”

A sick satisfaction washes over Jake at your words. God, he knows you would just fucking hate it if he actually knocked you up. You would be horrified to carry his child, and though he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either, in the moment having your full submission gives him the last push over the edge.

His hand around your throat squeezes tighter as he fucks into you a few more times, groaning when his release shoots into you. You desperately try to thrust yourself back against him as he cums, wanting to find your own peek as well.

He watches with a smirk as you try so hard, lewd squelching sounds coming from your used pussy as his cum seeps out past his cock. It’s pathetic, and he releases your throat to instead flick his impatient fingers over your clit.

You cry out as Jake gives you the last push you needed, the walls of your cunt fluttering around him as you cum. A breathless chuckle leaves him as he feels the way you suck in not only him, but also his spend. At this rate you really might get yourself knocked up, but it seems you do not care.

A rare silence falls as both of you pant, neither moving to pull away from each other. You let your tired arms give in and fall into the grass. Wiya, you hate to admit it but that was the best fuck you’ve had in a long time, your pussy still throbbing.

Perhaps you had finally found something Jake Sully was good at.

#jake sully x reader #smut #jake sully smut #avatar #avatar x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water #na’vi smut #na’vi x reader #jake x reader #jake sully x y/n

2K notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 27 days

Text

collard greens | kth

Working as a counselor at a summer camp for kids isn't the most exciting job, but hanging out with Taehyung makes it worth it.

○ Pairing: Taehyung x trans man!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: A classic Jai weed fic, friends to lovers, summer camp au, smut, fluff

○ 13 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Camp Counselor)

○ Word Count: 3,670

○ Warnings: Some body/gender dysphoria, reference to top surgery, reference to hormone therapy, marijuana, oral sex, (self) hand job, Jai didn't proofread this jhsdkjfsk sorry friends

○ Notes: Today is International Transgender Day of Visibility, created to celebrate trans and nonbinary people worldwide. Particularly on Tumblr and with reader-insert BTS fanfic, there is little representation of trans and nonbinary characters. Readers are often written as AFAB and use she/her pronouns and traditionally feminine terms to describe their genitalia (even when listed as gender-neutral readers). I wanted to share a story that explicitly focuses on a trans reader. I welcome everyone to read this story, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. As F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong."

○ Disclaimer: The trans community is diverse, and this fic doesn't represent all trans and nonbinary people's experiences. If you'd like to learn more about how to be an ally for trans and nonbinary people, check out this article from the Human Rights Campaign.

○ Post Date: March 31, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? A weed playlist

“Did you know that smoking weed makes your sperm count decrease?”

You scrunch your nose at Taehyung’s vulgar question, but he doesn’t notice. He’s nearly cross-eyed as he licks along the edge of the blunt he just rolled with expert fingers.

“Not me,” you challenge. “Maybe you.”

Taehyung stares at you for a moment. You can practically see the gears turning in his head before he sticks the blunt between his lips and speaks around it.

“Shit, yeah.”

The summer air, thick with humidity, doesn’t help when your face heats up from Taehyung’s mistake. It’s funny how seemingly inconsequential moments—like Taehyung forgetting that you don’t have the same parts as him—can bring you such euphoria. Taehyung has always been good at that, though. He’s never treated you differently, singled you out, or made you feel like you aren’t enough or are too much.

You’re just two dudes perched on a mossy rock in the middle of the woods, smoking a blunt while the camp kids you’re supposed to be taking care of are asleep in their cabins.

Simple as that.

Taehyung pauses to light the end of the blunt and inhales deeply, drawing smoke through his pink lips and exhaling it slowly. The thick cloud doesn’t have a chance to disappear into the night sky before Taehyung breathes it back in through his nose.

Rolling your eyes at Taehyung’s unnecessary display of stoner prowess, you take the blunt from his pinched grip and curl your lips around the tip.

“Are you trying to say weed is, like, male birth control?” you ask, smoke coming out of your mouth in disjointed puffs and streams between your teeth while you talk.

“It basically is.”

“That feels very unreliable.”

Your fingers brush against each other every time you pass the blunt between you. The contact makes your arm tingle, and the feeling wiggles down the right side of your body the more times you reach for the blunt.

“I mean, I smoke, like, every day, and I haven’t knocked anyone up yet,” Taehyung admits with a shrug.

You nearly choke.

“You’re fucking people raw, Tae?”

“Shhh!” Taehyung giggles with his index finger to your lips. You grab his wrist and try to push him off, but he doesn’t budge.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he pinches your top and bottom lips together to keep you quiet. It’s useless; his giggles are louder than you are.

“Listen,” Taehyung grins as he brings the blunt to his lips. Yours are still pinched together with his other hand. “I got tested before camp started, and I got no babies.”

“That’s not–”

“I know the test is for STIs, not babies, obviously!” Taehyung squawks, shoving you hard on the shoulder when you finally free yourself from him with a giggle, almost sending you flying off the rock. “I’m just saying I got neither.”

“Alright, alright! I believe you. No STIs, no babies.”

“Exactly.” Taehyung winks at you as he exhales a thick cloud of smoke.

Since you’re sitting next to each other, it’s impossible to escape the shy embarrassment Taehyung triggers in you. He has no business looking as good as he does when he smokes. It’s his lips and eyes, you think, watching him take another hit. The perfect pink bow of his upper lip and the plushness of his bottom lip make his mouth look pretty when the smoke swirls out of it.

When he looks at you through the smoke that surrounds you, his eyes are dark and lidded, a heavy gaze that weighs on you as you bring the blunt to your lips.

“Do you want me to roll another one?” Taehyung asks, his voice rough and thick, after a few more passes of the blunt between you.

It doesn’t feel like you’ve been outside for a long time, but a quick glance at your phone tells you it’s way past time to return to your cabin.

“We should head back, unfortunately,” you say with a sigh, “Waking up in the morning is going to fucking suck.”

“There’s probably just this last hit left.”

You wave away Taehyung’s offer of the blunt now smoked down to a pinched nub.

“I started it, so you have to end it,” Taehyung insists.

“Fine, come here.”

You’ve shotgunned weed with someone before. Although people may call it a shotgun kiss, it isn’t a real kiss. The person who inhales the smoke is supposed to blow the smoke into the other person’s mouth. Sure, that requires getting close to the other person, but it doesn’t require mouth-to-mouth contact. Everyone knows this, especially someone who smokes as much as Taehyung does.

So why does Taehyung lean in too close to press his lips against yours when you blow the smoke into his mouth?

It’s quiet outside, just the chatter of insects and other forest dwellers breaking the still summer night, so you easily hear the breathy way Taehyung inhales the smoke you’ve passed to him. It’s a soft, gentle sound that makes your entire body tingle, starting where his plush lips connect with yours.

Have you wondered if Taehyung’s lips are as soft as they look? Of course, you have; who hasn’t? Taehyung is easily one of the most gorgeous people you’ve ever met, but he has always been just a camp friend.

You’ve known Taehyung for years, spending half of every summer together at this camp since you were kids, eventually becoming counselors once you aged out of the program. Despite living in different cities and attending different universities, you’ve maintained an unlikely friendship through camp.

However, now you’re wondering if you’ve been reading your relationship all wrong.

Taehyung pulls away and turns his head to the side to exhale the smoke before cupping the back of your head and leaning in again. He’s pretty like this, with his eyes closed and expression relaxed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and for some reason, it feels like the hottest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah,” your voice is hoarse when you respond, scratchy from the smoke making your throat raw and your mouth dry. You made the rookie mistake of not bringing anything to drink.

When Taehyung slips his tongue in your mouth, you can taste the smokiness of the blunt. He cups your face with both hands and deepens the kiss, tilting his head slightly and causing your noses to brush against each other. Making out while high comes with an indescribable pleasure, something airy and electrifying that washes over your entire body in waves. It isn’t like normal arousal that you feel throbbing from your core and spread throughout your body. Kissing Taehyung while high makes your entire body tremble.

You twist your fingers into the sides of his baggy t-shirt to have something to hold onto as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a low groan from you. The old camp shirt is faded and soft from years of going through the wash. You’ve got an identical one in your dresser at the cabin.

“We have to go back,” you insist weakly once Taehyung releases your lip from between his teeth.

“I forgot.”

“Of course you did.”

Your laugh is full of anxiety as you look away from Taehyung’s heavy gaze. His eyes are blazing red. You wonder if he kissed you because he’s high and if he’s going to wake up in the morning and pretend it didn’t happen. Is that better than the alternative outcome where Taehyung is weirded out because, well, you’re you?

“Shut up,” Taehyung grumbles, but he wears a grin as he digs the toe of his hiking boot into the ground, twisting it to make sure the blunt is put out.

“First one to the cabin gets to shower first,” he declares.

“Taehyung!” you hiss, but he’s already crashing through the forest brush with flailing arms.

It takes a few seconds for your brain to get in sync with your body, still foggy from weed and Taehyung’s kisses. You scramble to get up, having to adjust your pants with a tug to your crotch as you jog after him. Bottom growth is affirming, but it’s also a pain in the ass sometimes. You can’t imagine how cis men deal with all that.

Taking off in what you hope is the direction of the camp, you quickly realize there’s no way you’ll make it to the cabin before Taehyung. The forest floor is uneven, and you’re an idiot and didn’t wear your hiking boots. Your smooth-soled Converse slide against mossy rocks and get caught on raised tree roots, nearly sending you flying as you try to catch up with Taehyung.

When you finally reach the cabin, you’re wheezing, and your entire body is sticky with sweat. Taehyung is already in your bedroom, whistling as he rifles through the dresser like he’s having a grand time despite his hair looking like a rat’s nest and having welts on his legs from running through bushes in shorts.

“Took you long enough,” he grins as you stomp through the front door and head straight to the bedroom.

The cabin is small, with a living room big enough for a couch and a coffee table, a small kitchenette off to the side, and a door to the bedroom you’re sharing with Taehyung. You each have a twin-sized bed that sits across from the other in the small room, and you share a large dresser placed in between your beds against the back wall. On the opposite side of the room is the door to the bathroom. Everything is a tight fit, but you don’t mind. The two of you are hardly ever in the cabin anyway. Being a counselor requires long hours full of activities, meaning you’re only in your cabin to sleep unless you have an off day.

“I’m gonna go enjoy a nice, warm shower now.” Taehyung rubs his victory in your face, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, and his eyes glittering like fire embers in the cabin’s pale yellow lighting.

“Dude, fuck off,” you give him your middle finger as he shuts the bathroom door with a cackle.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for Taehyung to finish showering. You trade places silently, your red eyes avoiding Taehyung’s because the time you had alone made you paranoid about what happened in the woods.

The paranoia only gets worse while you’re in the shower. There’s no need to scrub yourself with your washcloth so aggressively, but you feel like your entire body is crawling. It isn’t the discomfort you once felt when you looked at your naked body. It’s been a while since you felt discomfort when touching your chest or washing between your legs. No, this feeling you’re experiencing now is something different. Rather than feeling the urge to hide, you want to be seen. You want to be seen by Taehyung, and you don’t know what to do with that desire.

Showering doesn’t calm the need pulsing through your body. You feel a little less high, but you’re still buzzing with electricity, still incredibly sensitive as you dry yourself with a fluffy towel. With your brain still floating in the clouds, you almost think you’re hallucinating the slow opening of the bathroom door. Quickly, you wrap your towel around your hips and stare at Taehyung, whose head pokes through the door crack.

“Hellooo,” Taehyung drags out the word, low and slow, as his eyes sweep over your body.

He’s blatantly checking you out, and you feel your cheeks heat up from arousal or shame; you’re not sure which. You may not experience dysphoria anymore, but that doesn’t mean you’re running around shirtless, sporting scars where most guys’ pecs end. It was never “okay” to be shirtless with the chest you had before; it’s taking a while to feel “okay” doing it now.

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that Taehyung has never cared. He watched you blossom for over a decade as you shaped yourself into your most authentic form, and he kept up with every change, no matter how different things were from the summer before.

“Do you need something or…?”

Blinking, Taehyung’s face turns pink, and he shakes his head.

“No. Well, I mean, sort of?”

Taehyung laughs at himself, and you can’t help but laugh, too, because who can hear Taehyung laugh and not want to experience that same joy, even if it’s twinged with nervousness?

“What do you sort of need?” you finally ask with a grin, that shared joy warming your chest.

“Can I come in?”

“You’re already halfway there.”

With a cheeky grin, Taehyung slips into the bathroom and closes the door so you’ll stay warm. He’s wearing loose boxers and a tank shirt because the cabin’s lack of central air conditioning makes it hot at night. He’s cute like this, soft and domestic.

“Did you like it?” Taehyung keeps his hand on the doorknob as though preparing to leave, but his voice is steady when he asks the question.

“Like what?”

You know what. Taehyung knows you know what.

He clarifies anyway.

“When I kissed you, did you like it?” Taehyung switches between focusing on your eyes and your mouth. “Because… I want to do it again.”

It only takes a slight nod for Taehyung to crowd you against the bathroom counter. The kiss feels confident this time, no longer an accident or hesitant test ride. Taehyung holds your jaw to tilt your head up and kisses you hard enough to leave you breathless. You noisily inhale whenever he lets you.

“I didn’t want to wait,” Taehyung explains against your lips while you moan against his.

“For what?”

“You to finish showering.” Taehyung’s free hand runs down your side to squeeze your hip, part of his hand slipping under your towel. “Is this okay?”

You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you let him unwrap your towel and drop it on the slippery tile floor. Maybe it’s the weed making you feel reckless, letting this boy see you in a way you haven’t let a boy see you since you started your transition. Maybe it’s just because it’s Taehyung.

“You, too,” you groan when you feel Taehyung’s clothed cock press against your thigh.

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, reaching over his shoulder to pull his shirt over his head by grabbing the back. Once he’s shirtless, his mouth finds your jaw, kissing across to the sensitive spot just below your ear while you tug down his boxers so he can kick them off.

Beneath the arousal building inside of you are nerves you can’t seem to shake. They’re making it difficult to concentrate on how fantastic it feels to have Taehyung’s soft lips kissing and sucking your neck. All you can think about is how you’re afraid that Taehyung will freak out, that he keeps forgetting, and how it feels nice when he forgets when you’re talking about guy stuff, but it’ll feel devastating when he realizes he has forgotten now.

Slowly, Taehyung’s fingertips skirt your torso, creeping down your side to swipe over your waist and trail along the crease where your hip meets your thigh. You hold your breath as he ventures further, eventually shooting your hands out to squeeze his biceps when his fingers dip into your hole to gather your arousal and drag it upward.

“Can I suck your cock?” Taehyung breathes, hot and ragged, against the curve of your ear.

Jolting back, you stare at him with wide eyes and feel your heart flutter painfully in your chest because you still haven’t started breathing again.

“W-What, what did you say?” you stammer, holding Taehyung’s red, lusty gaze.

“Can I suck your cock? I want to suck you off.”

Taehyung says it so simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He slid his fingers through your arousal and didn’t refer to it as your pussy or clit, as if he already knew those words would make you feel disgusting.

“You, how did you know… why did you call it that?”

Scrunching his eyebrows and frowning slightly, Taehyung pulls his hand from in between your legs.

“Uhh… you always call it your dick when we’re talking about stuff with the guys?” There’s a panicked edge to Taehyung’s voice, each sentence coming out like a hesitant question. “But, uh, I feel like most of society agrees that dick isn’t really sexy, so… I thought cock would sound better…”

When you don’t respond, Taehyung’s face shifts from pale with panic to bright red with embarrassment.

“Shit, should I not have said that? Should I have asked first? I’m sorry I—”

You kiss away Taehyung’s embarrassed babbling, your fingers dug into his hair, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands curve around to hold your lower back and pull you closer as if it’s even possible. You want him to try, to mold you into him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

When Taehyung smiles, his teeth press against your bottom lip.

“You don’t need to thank me. I just wanna make you feel good. Will you let me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You bite your bottom lip and squeeze the edge of the counter on either side of your waist as you watch Taehyung get on his knees. The bath mat protects his knees from the hard tile when he kneels in front of you.

“You’re so pretty,” Taehyung says softly as he rubs his hands up and down the inside of your thighs with slight pressure to push them apart a little bit more, “Pretty boy.”

It’s hot watching Taehyung lick the tip of your cock, the hormones you’ve been on making it stick out beyond your folds. Taehyung is gentle when he presses your lower abdomen with his palm and uses his fingers to pull your lips back slightly to expose more of you. He gets you nice and wet before he wraps his lips around your cock, suckling it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, grabbing Taehyung’s head with one hand so you can run your fingers through his bangs and push them away from his face to see his eyes better.

Taehyung hums in response to your moans, and you feel the vibration rumble through your groin. He’s skillful as he licks and swirls your cock with his tongue and keeps a tight suction around it with his lips and hollowed cheeks.

For a moment, you tip your head back and try to regulate your breathing because how is Taehyung about to make you cum already, just from his mouth? Sure, your body has been more sensitive since you started your hormone therapy, but fuck.

To make matters worse, when you look back down, you notice that Taehyung’s free hand is wrapped around his cock. He pumps his cock at the same rhythm as he begins to bob his head as if he’s sucking even more of you than there really is. You can say, without a doubt, that no one has ever tried to affirm you and make you feel as complete during sex as Taehyung is.

“Fuck, yeah, Taehyung,” you adjust your grip on Taehyung’s hair and start guiding his movements, pulling him up and down by his hair, “Just like that, shit, your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You aren’t pulling his hair hard; you’re really only following the pace he’s already established, but it feels good. It must feel good for Taehyung, too, because he whimpers and jerks off faster. His body trembles just like yours does, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to be panting and frantic.

“Gonna cum, fuck, fuck.”

You squeeze Taehyung’s hair and the edge of the counter as you buck your hips, coming right as Taehyung adjusts his angle to lap at the gush of arousal at your hole, painting his mouth and chin.

“God, you’re so hot, you have no fucking idea,” Taehyung groans into the inside of your thigh, where he nuzzles his face.

His breath is hot and wet as he pants, trembling for a few seconds longer before he finally cums, too. Some of it leaks between his fingers and lands on the inside of your leg, but you don’t care; you just caress his hair from his face while he breathes slowly to calm himself down.

With trembling legs, you twist around to collapse onto the closed lid of the toilet, unable to stand any longer. Your head feels spacey and throbs, likely because you’d been holding your breath too much. It’s okay, though. It makes your body feel all warm and jiggly.

“We have to shower again,” Taehyung says quietly.

He looks just as fucked out as you feel, his eyes wide and staring out into the void as he continues trying to relax his shuddery breath. You can’t help but laugh, throwing your head back and letting it out, like whatever other pent-up energy you had left over after you came needs to escape somehow.

“Yeah, we do,” you wheeze even harder once Taehyung’s face cracks into a boxy smile, and he starts laughing, too.

“I got cum all over the floor,” Taehyung cackles, falling back on his bare ass and holding up his cum-covered hand.

You wipe the tears collecting in the corners of your eyes and shake your head. “That is something I don’t envy.”

“It’s so fucking inconvenient!”

Taehyung grins up at you with crinkled eyes, and you don’t know why you were so nervous before. He’s so perfect it makes your heart hurt.

“Next time, I’ll be the one to swallow,” you promise slyly, pleased when Taehyung lets out a weak moan in response.

“Bro, don’t do this to me,” Taehyung throws his head back and whines at the ceiling. "I’m gonna fall in love with you if you’re not careful.”

Grinning, you shrug. Tonight has been pretty reckless; there’s no use in being careful now.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#diverseinsertknet #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #collard greens

93 notes · View notes

virusinfected-memes · 2 years

Text

TUMBLR TEXT POST SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 1 ;

75 starters. CW: blood mention, cussing, death. Starters come from various text posts floating around Tumblr. The only thing changed for this post was adding capitalization and punctuation. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed!

“All I do is drink water and be stupid.”

“All I do is rotate three outfits and talk shit and have panic attacks.”

“All I want these days is to hike through a mossy forest filled with heavy fog and get lost for a while.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for the those two guys who died in the Blair Witch house? Who broke into HER home, trespassed on HER land, and messed with HER stick bundles? I don’t!”

“Baby girl, you are strange and off-putting.”

“Can necromancers heal depression?”

“Did I need it? No. Did I buy it? Yes.”

“Don’t forget that what you see isn’t all there is.”

“Do you ever wanna bond with someone so bad you’re like, “Damn, I wish we were knights on a dangerous quest...”?”

“Do you think the world could suddenly end on a night as quiet as this?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m an influencer! My content is clownery, I promote stupidity, and I’m sponsored by the circus.”

“Have people in horror movies never seen a horror movie?”

“Holy shit... I’M the demon living in my house?”

“Hot tip: bury yourself in the forest to recharge, never come back, and become a local cryptid.”

“Humans are really good at remembering each other’s bad decisions.”

“I am one percent human and ninety-nine percent tired.”

“I don’t really feel like existing today.”

“I do this really cute thing where I shut down and hate everybody.”

“I feel like I’m in the Sims where it takes five hours to make pasta and then you have to immediately go to bed.”

“If I can’t hand my lover a cup of coffee and kiss their forehead while they’re working, then what even is the point?”

“If my son is stealing pies off window sills, it’s because I taught him to do that, bitch.”

“If you aren’t someone the church wanted dead three hundred years ago, are you really living?”

“If your computer has malware... that’s me in there. If you take care of me like a little Tamagotchi pet, I will leave and give you a secret present in your files.”

“I hate those really vivid dreams that you’re still emotionally attached to after you wake up. You’re stuck, feeling for something that technically doesn’t exist.”

“I’m giving up personhood to become a full-time abstract concept.”

“I’m like a shitty anime dating sim. If I talk to six people, I have to immediately go to bed. If I go grocery shopping, that’s half my HP.”

“I’m off to kill the most powerful man in the world.”

“In the 90s, computers would scream every time you went online. That was foreshadowing.”

“I procrastinate so much now that if I ever became a vampire I will literally put things off for centuries.”

“I think I want my next piercing to be through my heart with a wooden stake.”

“I think my dark under eye circles are adding to the aesthetic, actually.”

“I think the far healthier app to have in middle school was the DSi camera, not Tik Tok.”

“It’s okay to be obsessed and in love with me.”

“I was born in the wrong generation. Take me back to the paleoarchean era. I want to be insentient. I want to be bacteria.”

“Little known fact: once you’re older and you’re no longer in school, time stops being real. Did that thing happen one year ago? Two? Five? A few months ago? Who knows.”

“Maybe if we all just collectively start decorating now, we can... force it to be Halloween.”

“Me? Tired? Sleepy? Yes, constantly.”

“My blood is glow stick juice. That’s why all my bones crack when I move.”

“My body is less of a temple and more of a rotting 19th century mansion rumored to be haunted by several wicked and vengeful spirits.”

“My body is my temple. Ancient and crumbling. Probably cursed.”

“My hobbies include laying in bed in my underwear while I listen to music and hate myself.”

“My kink is closing doors so that I’m in complete solitude.”

“My superpower is going into a book store and immediately forgetting the name of every book I’ve ever wanted to read.”

“Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value.”

“Nothing should go back to normal. Normal wasn’t working.”

“Not really a fan of this ‘being a person’ thing.”

“People keep saying “go big or go home” as if going home doesn’t sound like the best idea ever. Hell yeah, I wanna go home, and I’m gonna take a nap when I get there.”

“People who suggest getting breakfast together as a hangout plan are the kind of people you want to hang onto.”

“Pray for me. Nothing’s wrong, I just want more power.”

“Protect me from what I want.”

“Pro tip: instead of having feelings, try being dead inside. Everything is still horrible, but you will not care at all.”

“Remember, you can disappear into the woods whenever you want. You’re an adult.”

“Reminder: you can start over at any time. Your day is not ruined. Your world is not over. Take a deep breath. Start over.”

“Rest in peace to everyone killed by the gods for their hubris, but I’m different. And better. Maybe even better than the gods.”

“Sexting? Nah, I’m into spexting. Spooky texting. Ever seen a ghost? Hit me up.”

“Something all children covet is the generic black t-shirt with white skull worn by cartoon teenagers.”

“Sometimes a girly just needs to mask her declining mental state by calling herself a girlboss and that’s okay.”

“Sorry, bro, I can’t hang out today. I used up all my mana.”

“Sorry I tried to drink your blood. I think you’re cute.”

“The internet is awesome, but you can’t download love.”

“The only reason I still have depression is because I can’t take my brain out and blow on it like a DS cartridge.”

“The older you get, the more you appreciate just chilling at home doing nothing.”

“The world is just generally better when you’ve recently eaten a sandwich.”

“The worst part about kissing a perfect ten is the cold feeling your lips get from touching the mirror.”

“Very sexy of me to be isolating myself and rotting into the floor.”

“Well, the horrors may be beyond YOUR comprehension, but I understand them perfectly.”

“What does your soul look like?”

“What ever happened to personality? I want decorative towels that aren’t boring! I want NOVELTY! I want people to come over to my house and look at my trinkets, and immediately think “this lady is a wacko” and also “her stuff is haunted!””

“When fat Pikachu finally returns, I know he will single-handedly save our economy.”

“Yeah, I could have cracked the Zodiac cipher before those guys did. I just didn’t want to.”

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

“You can’t keep dancing with the devil and wonder why you’re still in Hell.”

“You know what I would be if I was in a video game? That dead body you find at the beginning with like ten gold.”

“You think too much. You’ll make yourself ill if you keep that up.”

#ask meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #tumblr #* mine

453 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 9 months

Text

won me over in spite of me

summary: after having met at the 2020 rock n' roll hall of fame induction ceremony, eddie munson will not leave you be. keeps going on about this guy who'd be perfect for you, but you're not interested in another set-up.

a/n: long live rockstar!eddie and his meddling ways!

🎶 you are the bearer of unconditional things, you held you breath and the door for me, thanks for your patience 🎶

“I’m so sorry,” you say, badly covering yet another yawn. “I don’t know why I’m so tired today.”

A lie. Of course you knew, how could you not?

“Something keep you awake?” he asks, voice soft against the crashing tide.

You’re walking side by side in the fading light, the salty breeze tickling your nose. He’s holding your boots in one hand, insisting that they’re too nice for you to resign them to the sand, your socks tucked into his back pocket.

An amber glow cuts across his face, making him even more handsome, impossibly enough. You bite your lip, looking quickly away when his eyes meet yours— mossy green and flecked with gold.

“The jet lag, probably.” You huff and laugh, turning to watch the sunset.

He hums in thought, “We could’ve rescheduled.”

“What? like we haven’t done that several times over already?”

His bark of laughter is loud and brings a smile to your face. Steve Harrington, the talented and in-demand actor, laughing at your motor mouth. Who would have thought?

Well, Eddie Munson, for one.

“Eds,” you growl picking up your phone, “It’s 4 in the fucking morning.”

“… shit, sorry.”

You roll over onto your stomach, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Well, what is it? What couldn’t you possibly wait to badger me about?”

He sighs down the line, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Remember how you were drunkenly lamenting the lack of decent men in the dating scene?”

“I told you that in confidence, Edward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, “And apps are the worst, even if they claim to have a screening process like Raya— that’s not your scene.”

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Will you just lemme,” he lets out an exasperated huff. “I am trying to you a solid girly.”

A brief consideration.

“You know how I feel about set-ups.”

“Okay, but it’s me? I’m not gonna set you up with some creep who has like, a collection of Furbies or some shit.”

“Long Furbies or normal Furbies?”

“Was any Furby truly normal? More like demon spawn— but that’s beside the point.”

You sigh, smooshing your face into the pillow and mumble out something unintelligible.

“C’mon sugar, use your big girl words.”

God, you could kill him.

“I said,” you enunciate pointedly, “I’ll consider it.”

“Hell yeah!” he crows directly into your ear. “Only a year of bugging you and you finally see reason.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Munson.”

He ends the call by promising to send you the details. so, after your set in Munich you read through a few emails— put out a few fires your publicist expressed concern about, and check your texts.

eds: steve harrington

you: i’m sorry who?

eds: … are you fucking with me?

you: no??

eds: omg 😆 he’s gonna love that

you: the guy you’re trying to set me up with gets off on people not knowing who he is? not really selling it to me here, munson.

eds: no, that’s not— i’ll send you a pic

you: if there is a whisper of dick, i am throwing my phone into the isar river

eds: [IMG]

“Really?” you greet once he picks up, “That’s the pic? How is that supposed to be helpful?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Shut up, nerd. I know you don’t sleep. Just answer the question.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs softly. “It’s his contact photo in my phone— whaddaya want from me? You said you didn’t want a dick pic.”

You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Eds, why would you have seen this guy’s dick, much less have a photo of it?”

“Truthfully, it was an accident, both times.” You can hear him shuffling across the line. “But there is nothing wrong with dudes checking out each other’s rigs.”

“I—" your mouth is gaping open like a fish. “I need to drink myself to oblivion to forget this conversation.”

“I mean, it’s noice, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says unhelpfully.

“GOODBYE Edward!”

Thankfully, he calls not long after the disastrous text exchange. You were doing fuck-all lounging around the house since finishing your festival circuit. Technically, this was supposed to be a writing day, but the muse had not been kind to you lately. Studio time was booked for a few weeks out, and you were struggling to come up with the motivation to finish the last few songs for the album.

The buzz of the phone provided a needed excuse to pack it in for the day. Shutting your journal and tossing a pen onto the coffee table, you answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi." He cleared his throat briefly, "M'glad you picked up, considering how much of an idiot I was. Sorry, by the way."

Steve's voice is low and raspy, but warm and inviting. You lean back on the leather sofa, sinking back into the cushions suddenly not so nervous.

"Well, I'm a nice person, second chances and all that."

He laughs at that. "Very gracious of you."

"Though," you say, "You never did confirm that this is, in fact, Steve Harrington that I am speaking with."

"No?"

"Nope," you pop the 'p' for emphasis. "So, I'm gonna have to ask for some sort of proof because Eddie was less than helpful."

He scoffs, "Typical Munson."

A moment later your phone pings with a notification: s.h. sent an image. Opening it up, you compare it to the images that pop up when you Google his name, and, sure enough, that's him.

"Better?" he asks, after giving you a moment.

"I suppose it'll do. Not like I'm about to suggest facetime," you sigh, running a hand through your unkempt hair. "Especially when I'm rocking writer's retreat chic."

"Mmm," he hums, "Sounds comfy. I'm jealous."

"Yeah?" you laugh, "They not let you roll up in sweats and bleach-stained shirts for your shoot today?"

His laughter greets you, "Y'know, oddly they don't?"

The conversation flows easily from there. He tells you what he can about his current project and you regale him with tales from life on the road, including special appearances by one Eddie Munson. Steve is easy to talk to— effusive and funny, which you hadn’t expected.

You hate to admit it, but Eddie may have been onto something.

“And then he—" Steve stops short, mid-story about a prank gone awry onset of his last project, muttering an apology and you can hear him open the door.

"Mr. Harrington, they're ready for you on set."

Trying to ignore the sour pull of your gut, you heave yourself off of the couch determined to do at least one productive thing today. He had to get back to set, you needed to get something done today, and the conversation was coming to a close.

The door closes with a soft click, quickly followed by Steve's sigh. "So, I gotta get back to work."

"Yeah," you clear your throat. "I guess I should too."

"I, uh, I'm really glad we got to talk." His voice was softer now, "C-could I call you later?"

"Oh, sure." You swallow the nerves creeping up your throat and ignore the kick of your heart in your chest. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

You screw your eyes shut, feeling yourself growing hot. "Don't get a big head about it, Harrington."

He laughs, breath blowing in huffs down the line. "Might be too late for that honey."

Numerous phone and FaceTime calls, messages, and several reschedulings later, you were going on a date with Steve. A first date at that, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd been on one of those. His assistant and best friend, Robin had called to confirm with you and promised to drop a pin of the place in Malibu where you'd meet him.

You were lucky enough to fly relatively under the radar most of the time, but since releasing and touring with your sophomore album, it was becoming more difficult to pull off. Not that you didn't like being nominated and winning awards or receiving feedback from your peers— you did, it was just a cosmic catch-22.

Steve completely understood when you'd mentioned not wanting anything especially public for the date. Just said he'd take care of it and for you not to worry about a thing.

But here you were, doing just that staring at your closet trying to find something to wear. In a panic, you'd called Eddie who was currently rifling through your dresser and tossing things behind him. The only thing you'd been able to agree on were the denim shorts, laid out on the bed awaiting the rest of your outfit.

"Aha!" He tossed a red top onto the bed, turning back to face you. "Those," he gestured to the shirt and shorts, "With your boots— the Docs or Blood—"

“Blundstone.”

"Right," he nods, "S'what I said."

You appraise the articles of clothing warily. "Okay."

"Now the lingerie situation is where it gets interesting."

You scoff, "Absolutely not." And begin herding him toward the door, "Consider your services done for the evening."

Shutting the door to change, you hear Eddie talking indistinctly in the hallway. Tieing the hem of the shirt into a knot, you let Eddie back in to assess.

With a nod of approval, he ends the call. "What's up, hot stuff? Harrington's not gonna know what hit him!"

You smile and walk to the mirror in the bathroom to see what can be done about your hair and makeup.

"Speaking of which," Eddie trails after you. "That was him on the phone. Fashion emergency, would you believe?"

"Uh huh," you roll your eyes. "Okay, Miranda Priestly."

"Anyway, I gotta run." He gives you a quick peck on the cheek and a smile. "You're gonna knock 'em dead!"

And he's off.

"Hey," Eddie shouts from the first-floor entryway. "Keep your hair down and do a red lip with that, sugar!"

Steve meets you at the beach. He’s dressed down in jeans and t-shirt and a red bomber jacket— you try to hide the smirk creeping its way across your face; Eddie purposefully curating your respective sartorial choices to match. What a little scamp. You park the car, a vintage cream Mercedes convertible and give yourself a final look in the mirror— hair voluminous and wind whipped (shout-out to leave in stylers), red lip matching your top to a tee.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Hi,” he greets you, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Steve opens the door for you, allowing you to step out and put your sunglasses on.

The door shuts with a soft click.

“Hi,” you reply with a small smile, willing the nerves bubbling in your chest to stay at bay. You nod to the bundle of flowers, “Those for me?”

“Oh, right.” As if he’s just remembered them. “Yeah, your assistant said these were your favorite so.” He extends the hand holding the bouquet toward you, almost hesitantly.

“They are,” you say, fingers brushing against his as you accept the flowers, paper and cellophane crinkling in your grasp. Bringing them to your nose, you breathe in the fresh fragrance of the flowers. “You did good Harrington, thank you.”

He ducks his head and smiles, one hand coming up to run through his hair. “Uh, you're welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He jerks his head toward the beach, “We’re set-up a bit further down. You don’t mind a walk, do you?” You can feel his eyes on you, even as you look away to the shoreline.

A shake of your head, skin warming from the sun overhead and excitement at the possibility of this new thing between you and Steve. What might it be like? To put yourself through it all again, with someone new?

“No,” you answer, jarring yourself from any further lines of inquiry. “I don’t mind at all. Lead the way!”

He slows his pace to walk beside you, sunglasses hiding his gaze. You hold the flowers in your left hand, leaving your right— the one closest to Steve, free. He walks on the right, keeping the damp sand of the shore from you. It reminds you of something your grandmother said way back when you had started entertaining thoughts about dating for the first time: A gentleman always walks on the outside of their date, it’s a sign of chivalry and respect.

Your hands brush a couple of times, pinkies grazing one another. Steve is quiet, more so than you’d been accustomed to— he’s a regular chatterbox on the phone and a texting fiend, more often than not. Maybe he’s nervous? He certainly wouldn’t be the only one. Hands bumping against each other once more, you take it upon yourself make the first move.

“If you wanted to hold my hand so badly,” you laugh, twining your fingers together, “You could’ve just asked Steve.”

He looks at you, pink flush on his cheeks and a beatific smile. “Sorry,” he says with a squeeze of your hand, “Guess I’m a little rusty. And nervous,” he admits shyly. “You’re just so—“

“Intimidating? I get that a lot.”

Steve stops short, looking at you once more. “No— I mean, maybe to some but,” he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “You’re … beautiful.”

It’s an interesting phrase and you notice that it’s not the usual you look beautiful. But instead he’s said it as a declaration of fact— you are beautiful. Not in the way that relies on your looks or the clothes you’re wearing. And it’s nice— it’s sincere because that’s just how Steve Harrington is, as you’ve come to quickly learn.

“Sorry, was that—“

“Don’t apologize,” you say, when you’ve found your voice again. “I— thank you.” You duck your chin to hide your stupid grin. “You’re beautiful too, Steve.”

The walk resumes, both of you more at ease now. The conversation flows easily between you— work, friends, schedules— and you allow yourself to relax. First-date jitters subsided with the cadence of his voice and the warmth of his hand engulfing yours.

Maybe, just maybe this could become something real.

And, if so, Eddie Munson would never let you hear the end of it.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #modern!actor!steve #Spotify

65 notes · View notes

wild-stray-renegade · 10 months

Text

Polyester Pollution

Author’s Note: It is my personal responsibility to make sure none of these characters are having a good time— I’ve butchered their backstories and present to you the bony leftovers. Literally no one asked for this but the idea came to me and I started writing. If you want to see more of these two or this world, let me know!

TW: Plush...gore? Cursing

Word Count: 1622

Our paws squelched in the tarry mud below us as we made our way across the open land. There's not much that we can see around us aside from the broken down buildings littering the area. I looked to our right at the one we lived in together with our draconian friend Derrin, as evidenced by the small scorch marks around one of the windows from a few of the wilder nights that the four of us had as a group. The crackling of the torch was oddly soothing in comparison to the silence of the vast landscape around us. My mind slipped into a daydream state about the shenanigans we would get up to.

A few seconds in however, I was broken from my dreamlike state. "...I miss him." I heard Damond mumble as he slowly came to a stop in our walk. His ears were folded back in pain. The sunlight bounced back from his little beady eyes as if to highlight the stinging hurt that decided to rear its ugly head in that moment. "I regret not being there for his final moments, not being able to say goodbye."

A slight feeling of something new tugged at my chest; it felt like I had committed a crime and was paying the price. I'm not sure exactly what crime I actually pulled but there must've been something. "I'm…" I paused with a sigh and looked over at my buddy. "I'm sorry, Damond." I reached out a paw to comfort him but paused. Did he want to be comforted right now? Is touching him a good idea? Would that help or just cause more pain?

Slightly ragged fur brushed against the fleece fabric of my dirty paw pads, shaking me from my thoughts. Damond had noticed my outstretched paw and decided he wanted physical affection, I guess. "Besnik… could you tell me how he was caught?"

"Hmm? Are you sure you're ready for that story?" I raised my eyebrows. He had told me to wait for months now; the details aren't exactly a typical bedtime story that you'd tell your children late at night.

Damond looked up at me with the pace of a snail. "I…Yeah. I'm as ready as I'm ever gonna be." He sat down on a mossy rock beside our path outside of the camp's borders. "I need to know how he passed on."

I looked at him for a moment to make sure I didn't overlook any sign of resignation. The last thing we needed was this little shit of a fluffbutt breaking down on patrol. His stoic features worked a little too well in hiding any emotion he may have felt before. "I'm… okay." I circled around him to the other side of the rock and plopped down.

"So. I can't recall their names or what in the hell we as a collective group have dubbed them as, but we were over there towards the Deslate Sea cause we were scavenging for those parts for Derrin— you remember, right?" I nodded towards him as he nodded back

"Yeh; he was workin' on that one weapon; the one with the weighted spiked ball on the chain."

"Exactly. Well, he had managed to track down a spot over there where there was an old hideout; we were thinking it was for another group of plush." I paused as the memories started to slowly creep back into my mind. "I… Well, Derrin was right on the building still being occupied, however he was a bit off the mark on who occupied it."

Damond's eyes shot up and locked with mine. I watched the pieces click together in his head. "No. There's no way."

"Y'see, you say that," I raised my brow as I tilted my head towards him to emphasize my tone. "However when we arrived on the hideout's lot, the land surrounding it was covered in the same oily substance that we run into when we meet those creatures. The ones with the fire manes and tails?" I raised my paw behind my head and wiggled it to imitate the flames that line the back of the horse-like creature's necks and heads. Damond nodded in silence as he was more focused on what I was saying to interrupt. "The slick liquid? Well, I'm not sure it's really a liquid per se, but it had fully coated the area when we showed up. Was that a sign that we should've stopped?"

Damond started to aggressively nod in response as his ears flopped in time, the black fur swaying with the wind. He didn't say anything aloud but I could see his eyes screaming You fucking dumbass! as they launched daggers into my chest repeatedly. It felt as if he was filled with the rage of a thousand suns and it was all being directed straight into not murdering me right then and there.

"Yeah, yeah we should've. It was my first scouting mission though and I had never been properly trained; never thought I'd need to before then because we had Miraden with us. The rest of the team was decent as well." I shrugged as I mimicked a snort. "I thought I could be carried along by the others and be the healer of the group." I started to fidget with the small cloth tied around my wrist, the only reminder of my first and only 'owner'. The text on it was barely legible, faded by the tests of time and the fact I wore it without any care in the world.

"So much for being a healer." My vision started to blur as I started zoning out and shutting everything down. The images of the night flooded my brain; the nighttime breeze blowing through my fur, the heavy scent of burning tar and gas searing my nose, the terrifying reflections in the oil as Miraden was jumped by one of the horse-like creatures, one of the hooves landing directly on his spine and cracking it in half, the ear-splitting screech that tore through the night and etched it's pitch into my memory and my night terrors ever since that terrible night, the lifeless eyes staring back at me as my closest friend's mangled body lied in a pool of tar, stuffing and cloth scattered around his corpse—

A soft tap on my shoulder tore me from my nightmarish trance as I jumped into the air, my sword clattering onto the rock below. My eyes focused onto Damond's auburn, black and white furred face staring back into mine. His brow furrowed in concern as he tried to calm me down. "Hey, Besnik, bud, it's okay. You're safe now. You can't be attacked here. We have the barriers around the perimeters; you're safe. It'll be okay." I noticed my thoughts and my movements were more erratic than they normally were. My paws vibrated due to the anxiety and severe stress triggered due to the attack.

"Sorry, didn't realize I was zoning out so bad." A slight stutter escaped at the second word as I was trying to calm down; something I've never done before. I covered my snout with my paws in embarrassment as my face turned into a furnace— this is a horrible time to find out that my warming mechanism from being an Emotional Support Bear still works to some extent.

Damond could pick up on my situation as he smiled softly. "It'll be okay, Besnik." He proceeded to pat my head and then handed my sword back to me. "Here, take your blade before it vanishes into the void with half of your belongings. You have your shield and we need to keep the two together, you nut." I scoffed as the comment playfully stung. I was still looking for my sewing kit so I could fix up the tear on my knee but that's been lost for a few weeks now. I swear, Derrin stole it and hid it among his hoard like the plush dragon he is. "Okay listen here, you little shit-'' The laughter bubbling up in my throat quickly vanished when we suddenly heard the quiet th-thud, th-thud, th-thud of hoofsteps to our right. A loud exhale soon followed as the massive shape of a horse's head peeked around the corner, liquid as thick as syrup dripping from the snout and the mouth. It's soulless eyes stared at where we sat as if it knew exactly where we rested. The neon flames on its neck blazed with a violent energy unlike anything I've ever seen before and illuminating the area around us. Pieces of rough fabric and coarse fur rested in the pools of the tar, the fabric stained and mangled by the substance as if it tainted the fabric to the point of no return. Small tufts of cotton sank into the horse's skin— if you could call it that.

There was a massacre here.

"A Nightmare…" Damond's voice dripped with fear as he gripped his weapon with his long tail and preparing to lunge at the towering enemy. "Time to avenge my fallen brethren." The fire reflected in his eyes to highlight the anger and pain that delved deep into his soul, tearing it to shreds with every passing moment. I turned to face the horse and stared into the glowing holes of his eyes, crouching and preparing to lunge. The calm settled on the field as the wind suddenly stopped for a few seconds and all fell silent. The only noises that could be heard were the crackling of the Mare's flames and breathing.

As if rehearsed for years and then led by a conductor, we lunge towards the Nightmare at the same time with our weapons held high.

#writing #write #writers #polyester #pollution #nightmare #fiction #short story #short fic #short fiction

3 notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal @virtuallybaby @rbforsmileycal @televisionboy @evanjh @lolzskye @haroldpotterson @pandxthings @leeroysdancer @summersylesxplr @cherriesrae

2K notes · View notes

loousir · 3 years

Text

[Orc] Saviour

Orc Male x Male Reader

Borhul

Warnings: Slight Orc to Human racisim, no violence other than what you see before the cut (3rd paragraph), injured reader, reader is written to be muscular

Masterlist

----------------------------------------------------------------

You were currently leaning against a tree trying to catch your breath as you were holding your wounded side tightly. Three heavy and thundering sets of footsteps got closer and closer until they stopped. You did your best to hold your breath steady and quiet but it failed you.

"Ah, there ya are, ya littl' pest." A large grey-ish green hand stole you away from your hiding spot. "Why cant you just leave me the fuck alone?" You croaked out as he gripped your shirt tighter. "Cause littl' runts like you, dont belong in an Orc settl'm'nt. All we're doin' is disposin' of the rat in the kitch'n." He snarled out, his nose crinkling up as he spoke. His buddies cut your legs more then they already had been to make sure you didnt run off but in such a way so that you didnt bleed out too quickly.

Your groaning voice of pain was ignored as the main Orc tossed you onto the wet mossy dirt right up against an old tree stump. You looked up to the Orc with a harsh glare before speaking for the final time that night. "You have absolutely no dignity and no right to call yourself an Orc." Your vision went blurry and your eyes closed, breathing heavily as everything faded out.

You sat up with a start as the sun had heat up your wounded cheek, causing it to hurt. Your breath was unsteady, uneven, and incredibly heavy. A strong pounding sensation coarsed through your head as you hunched over and grabbed your chest, trying to calm your breathing. "Shit..."

After a fre minutes, you finally calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. The room was only lit by the light that shone through the large window next to the large plush bed you were currently sitting on. There was minimal decoration in the room but it was garnishing a large war hammer resting on the mantle of the fireplace. You carefully turned your legs out from under the covers to have them hang off the side of the bed.

Only your boxers/briefs were on and you took note how most of your body was bandaged, including the whole of your left cheek. You carefully shuffled off the bed, still using it heavily for support as your feet touched the bear skin rug. You realized it was an Onikuma.

I know who's house this is...

The house belonged to your closest friend, Borhul. He's one of the clan chiefs off-spring and next in line to be chief. His father, Orogakh, had taken a particular shine to you after he had rescued you from a group of "bandits" that had you bound and ready to sell off to some vampire as a blood slave.

Orogakh had been watching them before he noticed your child frame. He said his original intent was to just see if they were going to harm the settlement but just had an urge to rescue you. Once he did, he would return you to a human village but when you said you had no family he decided to take you in.

His teachings formed you into the tall, muscular man that you are today. You decided to stop reminiscing for a moment to continue your shaky trek out to the livingroom.

"He's not here..."

You looked around his lightly decorated cabin before hobbling over to the large couch and sitting down. Your eyes closed momentarily before opening again when the heavy front door creaked open. His lime green eyes instantly locked with yours and he rushed over to you. "You're awake." He seemed shaken, as if he didnt think you'd wake up.

"Uh, yeah." You looked to his eyes again to see them watering as he pulled you gently into a hug. "Gods I was so worried." You hugged back and gently reassured him by rubbing your rather soft hand against his exposed spine. Most Orc's in the settlement walked around wearing only bottoms so him being shirtless was a common sight.

He pulled away and looked to your eyes. "Do you think... I could get the rundown of what happened? I passed out and I really only know up until that point." Borhul pulled away and looked at you, your eyes looking down to his silver rings that fit perfectly over his long, slim tusks.

"After I change your dressings and get you a bath I will." You nodded and mumbled out an 'ok' before he suddenly picked you up bridal style. He was about a foot and a half taller than you, standing at 7'7" but he was still so extremely gentle with you, as if he were to accidentally squeeze too hard he would break a bone.

"I know I'm wounded but I'm not a porcelain doll." You said quietly as he sat you down on his bathrooms toilet. He grunts and kneels down in front of you. "Please no snarky remarks right now." He started to gently unwrap your left calf, slowly traveling up to your thigh. You watched carefully as he revealed still healing, yet well cared for wounds.

"Have you been the one looking after me?" You asked looking to his face. He had started on unwrapping your right leg but paused to look up to you and nod. Your eyes softened as you looked to his again. Without thinking, your hand reached out to his face, gently cupping his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned slightly into your touch. "Sorry for making you worry so much Bora."

He shook his head before continuing to unwrap your wounds. "No, it's not your fault. I just wished I had realized something was up sooner." You smiled as he moved up to your arms, beginning to unwrap those as well. "Its good to know at least one other person cares about me." He looked to your eyes for the third time and gently held your hand in his.

"My family cares about you (Y/n). And so does the settlement. They know how important you are to me and they respect that. I mean we grew up together for gods sake." You gently squeezed his hand but didnt say anything. "I dont think I could lose you that easily." He spoke softly before continuing to unwrap you.

Neither of you spoke as he finished unwrapping you and turning on the water, waiting for it to be warm. Not hot but warm. He looked back over to you and reached up to your face, carefully peeling away the bandage. His calloused thumb softly traced around the cut that would more than likely form into a scar. Your eyes closed and you leaned softly into his hand before he pulled it away.

"Father will be happy to know that you're ok." He spoke as he helped you up. Without thinking, you started to gently shimmy out of your underwear, trying your best to not scrape any wounds with the fabric. Borhul held a blush on his cheeks as he helped you into the tub.

"Here," He hands you a bottle of medicinal soap that he's been using to clean your wounds. "Use this then once done dont stay in too long after. It's not good if they get too much water." You nodded and looked up to him to see he was looking away. "Borhul." He glances over to you and keeps his eyes locked with yours.

"Thank you."

He nods and turned his head away again. "I'm going to let father know that you're awake." You mumbled another small 'ok' as he left you to your own. A moment or two had passed when the bathroom door creaked open and Borhuls hand set something down on the counter before closing again.

Some minutes had passed as you cleaned yourself and the pretty well healed wounds. While you bathed, many questions ran through your head.

How long has it been?

What happened after you passed out?

How were you found, saved even?

You were lost in thought but the sound of the door opening make you look up. "You should hop out and dry off. Father would like to see you." He said quickly before closing the door again. You simply did as told and dried off, slipping on the pair of boxers he had brought you.

"Bora?" You called for him as you carefully hobbled out of the bathroom. Two heads turned to look at your wounded form and the called for orc made his way over to you. "Hold on, lemme..." He gently picks you up again and sets you on his kitchen counter before going to get what you assumed was bandages.

You looked over to see Orogakh staring at you. "Hey pops." He stood up and walked over to you, examining how your wounds have healed. He didnt say anything and simply pulled you into a hug. You hugged him back and looked over his shoulder to see Borhul holding bandages and some clothes that looked like his from when he was younger.

Orogakh stepped away and let his son help you. Neither of you spoke buy just looking at his face you knew exactly what he was thinking, making you smile sweetly at him. Borhul carefully bandaged some wounds that still needed to heal a bit more and slipped a pair of loose pants and a button up shirt. The shirt was a ivory white and the pants were brown. "I mostly covered the deepest wounds but the others are fine to breathe. Just try not to get them dirty." You smiled up to him and nodded. "I dont plan on making them any worse."

You said, looking up to him, still holding that smile on your face. He gently smiled as well before leaning in and hugging you again. "I'm glad you're ok..." He pulled away and turned to his father. "Should we..?" Orogakh nodded and Borhul gently took you off the counter. "Will you be ok with me giving you a ride?" He bent his knees slightly and motioned for you to hop on his back.

"I suppose. You probably wouldn't let me walk anyway." You said with a small laugh before carefully climbing onto his bare back. He adjusted so the both of you were comfortable before following his father out of the house. The instant that the three of you had left, all eyes had looked to not only you, but to Borhul carrying you.

The looks were mixed amongst the Orc camp as the camps' leader was walking along side his son carrying another, who wasn't even an Orc. Even though few looked on with an odd feeling, they were glad that you were ok. Borhul carried you all the way to town square where your three assailants were locked in pillorys. There was a small group of youngn's throwing stones at them and laughing.

"We waited till you woke up so that you could choose their punishment." Borhul gently set you on the pavement and Orogakh shooed the kids away. The three of you stood in front of the three of them, looking down on their pitiful states. The breeze blew gently, ruffling your hair. "I don't want anything bad to happen to them." Borhul scoffed and looked down to you. "Are you serious? They almost killed you (Y/n)."

You sighed and looked up to them. "All I wish is they're branded with both the murders and banishment marks and removed far away from here." He turned you to look at him. "(Y/n) they almost killed you. That's all you want to do?" You nodded. "If I wish death upon them like they did me, then I'm no better than they are. Just because I have all the power doesn't mean I will abuse it." You mumbled the last part as Borhul takes a moment to think before removing his hands from your shoulders and looking to his father.

He nodded and said, "I'll take care of them. Take (Y/n) back and relax." Borhul nodded and gently grabbed your hand. You looked up to him surprised. "What?" You shook your head. "You're just... Holding my hand." He grunts. "So what about it?" You shook your head again and the two of you slowly walked along the cobbled road back to his home.

Once the two of you arrived he pulled you close and sat the both of you on the couch. You ended up sitting super close, like thighs touching close. "Could you tell me what happened?" You asked, looking up to his eyes again. He sighs, some relief evident. "Not much had happened. I'm pretty sure we got there just as you passed out." You nod and rest your head on his shoulder, making his face light up with a blush. "You were out for three days though. The doctor said you should have woken the day after the attack so I was afraid."

There was a moment of comfortable silence before he spoke again. "So um... I... I know this is probably a bad time but... I..." Borhul hesitates heavily on what he's about to say. You look up to his eyes again and he was intensely staring at your face. "It's ok. Take your-mmhp!" He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. You responded after your short shock had passed. A moment passed before the both of you pulled away for air.

"I think I love you." He mumbled out before going in for another kiss which you reciprocated. By the time the two of you pulled away, you found yourself straddling Borhuls thighs and his hands rested on your hips. "Hi." You said with a smile. "Hey." He said with a exceptionally pleased smile. "I just might feel the same way Bora." He smiles and kisses you again. Your hand rested on his chest as you leaned into him.

"Bora?" You said after you both pulled away. He looks up to you with a cute smile on his face. With a smile of your own, you run your fingers through his hair, combing it slightly in the process. He closes his eyes and let's out a small content hum. "Your hair is so wavy. But I guess that's what happens when it's braided all the time." You said as you played with it more. He rests his face on the spot between your neck and your shoulder and slightly pulls you closer.

"I wish we could stay like this forever."

----- 2465 (not proof read) Considering a part 2

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #m4m #mxm

181 notes · View notes

raycatz · 2 years

Note

Hi Ray! how about Legend?

Love your art 💙

aaaaa Leenii thank you!!!! I love your art as well aaaAA!!!

Everyone's in this one but Legend has the opening paraghraph.

Morths! Morths morths morths morths morths! aka a dungeon crawl gone wrong and the boys are pincushioned. Completed.

--- Morths ---

Legend streaks through the portal, pegasus boots slamming him blade first into the mossy cobbled wall at the far end of the clearing. There is a sharp ting upon impact and a dozen fist-sized spiked balls fly from his tunic. His blade embeds itself into the wall and Legend is thrown from the momentum, sprawling onto the ground, sword yanked awkwardly from his grasp.

“Suppose that’s one way to get ‘em off!” Wind leaps through the shimmering portal with a laugh, followed by Twilight, Four, and everyone else. All are stickered with the small monsters. The sailor hurries forward, grinning, boomerang in hand. The monsters spread in a radius from Legend and bounce towards the approaching Wind with each step. He releases the boomerang and each goes up in a puff of smoke.

Legend swears and scrambles to his feet.

“Missed one.” A pointed finger from Hyrule to Legend’s cap gets a round of chuckles. The monster is ripped off and flung into the nearest wall.

Legend huffs, “Yeah, laugh. Like any of you have it better.”

He has a point. Four is on the ground carefully pulling the creatures from his leggings one at a time while Warrior’s scarf is smothered in the things. Wild is done up like a cactus. A concerned Sky hovers nearby, trying to discern how, or where, to best approach removal without getting poked.

“That,” Time sheathes the biggoron sword, “could have gone better.”

“No shit.” Legend says. A sharp glance to Twilight.

He returns the venom. “The statue would have kept the button down if someone didn’t bump me.” He scowls at Wars.

“I told you we should have set up the statues beforehand so the bridge would stay extended!”

“It would have! I just wasn’t expecting to be shoved, thank you! The dominion rod should’ve worked.”

“You’re welcome, then,” Warriors remarks. “For the shove. But I’m sure you would have rather had your arm lobbed off by that moblin.”

“I would have rather not become a pincushion.” Four muses.

Arguing swells and Wind raises his voice to be heard, “Oh come on, falling into a pit of morth isn’t that bad.” The attempt to placate the others fails and the jabs continue.

To make matters worse, Time is drawn into the argument. Bickering breaks out over ill planning, who’s at fault, who failed to catch who, who fell. Useless nonsense broken only by sharp intakes of breath with the removal of the meddlesome monsters and wisps of smoke with their defeat.

Unimpressed, Wind pulls the deku leaf out of his bag. He lifts it over his head and gets a small “Wha-” from Twilight before bringing it down hard. A gust of wind and the bickering is drowned out by the clack, jingle, and puft of morth ripped off of clothing and blown into the surrounding woods.

Wind does a little jazz hands and huffs. “You’re welcome, okay? I’m sorry about the morth.”

There’s a panicked sound from Sky and the others have just enough time to see the sun glint off Wild’s readied blade before he spins and they’re pelted again.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #everyone gets a burr like creature to the face #10/10!#lu wind #lu legend #this was inspired by theelvishfiddler's doodles of WW Link playing with morth #they're babies! TAT #ray responds

17 notes · View notes

blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

midnight walk — bang chan.

— “I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.”

— “in which you and chan walk through a park during midnight to catch up on some much needed alone time, and you’re prominently reminded of how much you love him, and he does too.”

pairing: chan x (gn) reader

word count: 3 k

genre: fluff, boyfriend au, idolverse au (though not very prominent throughout the fic)

⇥ warnings: none, very self indulgent making out but nothing sexual, just kissing. minimal dialogue, kissing in public even though there’s no people around, also this situation is just for fictional purposes okay, I am not encouraging any acts of pda that takes place here between idols or anyone (quite frankly i have no idea about it’s legality, but as I said, it’s fictional), it’s just for entertainment purposes. Please take it as such. Also this park is huge and Chan and Y/N walk pretty slowly, and they’re from different companies.

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: This fic does not intend to represent the actions of the real Bang Chan in any way, shape of form, nor does it intend to represent JYPE. Events are pure fiction, please take them as such.

note — Something soft because I wanted to write. This idea was brought up in a convo between me and ella and it was originally for han but then I wrote it for chan because i need my comfort kpop boy right now. Also @meiiyue. I hope this is not shit but i have no idea haha. Please, please leave feedback. Not edited, please excuse grammatical errors and typos. I;m sorry is this is trash, I really haven’t written seriously in a while ;-;

The air over here is way too moist.

So much so that you can feel beads of sweat litter the top of your brow the moment it’s been five minutes since you’ve arrived. You suppose you can’t complain when you and Chan made up the plan to meet immediately after a heavy downpour — you loved the smell of rain and he wanted to see you — it was a win-win situation.

But where is he?

You wipe your forehead with the back of your sleeve, clutching your umbrella tightly in one hand while simultaneously going through your phone with the other. Your surroundings are calm, quiet, peaceful, exactly what you need to delve into your own thoughts and relax from the actual week you’d gone through. You can feel the tension in your shoulders, very very slowly, seep away as a blanket of mental peace is wrapped around your shoulders. As nice as it feels to be alone in this quiet place, all you want right now, is to hold your boyfriend’s hand and revel in nature.

You make a “tsk” noise, brushing the hair stuck to your face before scrolling through your contacts. You’re about to click on the one that says “channieeee <3″ when you feel hands — warm hands, grab at your shoulders from behind, and you shriek at the sudden shock that overcomes you. Owing to it being very quiet in this park, you slam a hand over your mouth, turning around to see the only person you were waiting for this whole time, albeit not this way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You frown, though a small smile does pull at your lips when your eyes meet his warm brown ones.

“I was letting you know of my presence?”

“By sneaking behind me and giving me a heart attack?”

“I was going to give you a back-hug—” Chan points out, waking around the bench to sit down next to you, not needing to ask at all. “—but then you screamed and I had to revoke it.”

A part of you wishes that had happened — as terrifying as that encounter was, Chan gives great hugs. One of a kind. It’s almost like every time his hands wrap around your waist or shoulders, every inch of stress, thoughts melt away, leaving you in a calm state of bliss. That’s what Chan’s hugs are — pure bliss and honestly, your escape.

You give yourself a second to analyze his sharp features. Soft eyes, delicate smile, the pale, soft skin on his cheek so inviting. In this place where you and Chan are together, all you want to do is crawl into his arms, let go of the barrier that surrounds you and just be... yourself. You want to cup his cheeks and kiss him, just like you do whenever you meet up in secret.

But there’s more secrecy and hiding involved in an idol’s life.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say, fixing your mask properly over your nose before standing from your place. “You know better than to revoke my hugs, Christopher.”

Chan chuckles in endearment. You only call him Christopher when you’re unsure of your own statement, and it’s evident in the way your words end like you’re questioning him. Chan’s waiting for the “...right?” that should be following soon, but, oh well. He knows himself that denying you isn’t something his heart would allow, especially not when you look at him like that.

Eyes gleaming under the dim lights of the park at midnight, a soft, almost unseen smile that only he’s allowed to see adorning your lips, and soft, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t even have to tell him you missed him, or that you wished to be in his arms again, because the connection between the both of you was on a whole other level — he could read all your emotions, just from looking into your eyes.

“Can’t deny that, can I?” He says, getting up from his seat before smoothing his shirt, while you put your phone into your pouch and fix your coat. Then, his hands silently seek your own, lacing his fingers with your own as warmth spreads through your chest. His hand feels soft, even more so than the last time you met him. In a silent want to hold him close to you, you tighten your grip as you smile at him and he reflects it back.

You walk around the path slowly, each step lingering against the mossy ground for a good second before moving on to the other. It’s so, so calming. The cold, moist winds refreshingly cool against your skin now that you’re not sitting idle in one place, the darkness in the park oddly calming. There’s the slight chirping of insects that resounds through the space like gentle music, and eventually, you feel yourself relax as you take in your surroundings.

“So, how was your week?” You ask, feeling yourself blush when you silently lean your head against your shoulder whilst walking, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he snakes an arm around your waist, sending shivers up your spine when he gently smooths the fabric of your coat with his thumb.

“Stressful, honestly.” The both of you turn around the corner without second thought. You’ve done this so many times, it’s like your bodies are being pulled to the place you wish so hard to be in right now. You missed him. You missed him so, so much. You can see the stress lines on his forehead and the darkness around his eyes, almost sure that he isn’t getting enough sleep either. After a long pause where you take in his words, he murmurs silently. “Missed you during the shoot.”

“Awh darling,” You coo, pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, and even though he doesn’t feel it through his own coat, Chan can feel himself smile affectionately. Every tiny gesture you provide is just so... attracting. Comforting. Be it lacing your fingers through his hair and stroking gently to lull him into sleep or just a hand against his thigh, a soft whisper of an “I’m here” when his stress gets the best of him and he’s clinging desperately onto your shirt, fluttering of your lips all over his face the occasional time you wake up together, or just this — walking through a park at midnight because it’s hard to meet up when you’re both popular idols, hand in hand with almost no words spoken. Everything about you is just so... beautiful. “Did you eat and drink well this week?”

“I did. You wouldn’t stop texting me every day, remember?” Chan laughs, the kind that makes your heart flutter and do backflips.

“It’s very necessary. We both know you're total ass at taking breaks.”

“Hey!” Chan pouts, almost offended at your statement. “I’m trying, okay?” He then smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the fruity scent of your shampoo. “Besides, I have an amazing girlfriend to remind me, am I right?”

“Yeah yeah.” You brush him off, feeling the light grow darker in a particular section of the path, and that’s when you know you’ve reached the place you’ve been walking towards. There’s a bench placed in this place too — it’s the perfect spot for hidden conversations and maybe, kisses, because the chicken wire is completely hidden by trees, making this spot invisible from the outside.

“There it is.” You point out and Chan follows in pursuit, dusting the seat off for you slightly. Once you’ve sat down, you feel your cheeks burn, because the events that take place once the both of you find this spot has been engrained in your mind at this point. They’re the kind that get you flustered every time you see Chan in the JYP building the next day.

The chirping of insects is so much more intense here, yet you don’t even hear it when Chan puts an arm on your shoulder, gently sweeping his thumb against the material of your overcoat, a soft smile taking over his lips as your eyes lock.

A gush of wind then sweeps past you, the chill in the air higher over here than near the entrance. You lean into Chan and he gets the idea immediately, pulling his coat over the both of you as you snuggle into his shoulder. He’s warm, so warm, so cozy, all you want to do is melt into his embrace and stay. Stay locked in this position you’ve grown accustomed to and found yourself in many times, with the gentle murmur of wind and chirping resounding all around you, almost like you’re trapped in utopia. You want to stay right here, but unfortunately, time runs fast.

“It’s cold.” He comments, and you let the words settle into the air.

“You’re warm.”

At that, Chan feels his smile widen genuinely, his grip on your shoulders tightening just the slightest before he trails up to tangle his fingers with your hair. You feel yourself tense before melting further, lifting your head up to look into his eyes, and my gosh, you can see the whole galaxy in them. His eyes are more sparkly, more lustrous than the clear night sky that lies above him, though the combined visual is truly enough to take your breath away.

“Always for you.”

One second, you feel his hand gently hold your chin and tip your head up, and the next, he leans to press his lips to your own. A mixture of warmth, fuzziness and nervousness bubbles inside you, mostly because you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re in the park — pitch black with dim lighting, yes, but still a public space.

Well, blame it on you for telling your partner you wanted thrill in your life when you were on your first date. It wasn’t a regular occurrence when you and Chan had the idea of meeting up at the park every Saturday midnight, kissing each other at midnight in a park where the trees were barely covering the partitions. Quite frankly, you have no idea when this whole thing started, all you know is that it became quite a frequent occurrence to go home with your cheeks feeling warm and your thumbs fidding with the collar of your shirt.

Your hands stay frozen on your lap and your brain fills with white noise. His lips feel so, so soft against your own as you basically melt against him. You can feel your knees go weak even though you’re sitting down, and Chan’s hands immediately grip your arms as though to cage you from your surroundings. Being in his arms seems like a whole other world to you. They surround you like that warm whiff of air when you get back home after a cold day at work, lock you against his body and protect you against any negativity that may threaten to look your way. Being in his arms, you feel like you’re in a cage you never want to get out from. A cage in which you are complete, you are content, you are loved.

And so, you gently press your palm to his cheek, running his thumb against the high end of his cheekbone, humming when you feel the soft skin underneath. His lips linger against your own for two seconds before he pulls away, feeling your delicate touch against his cheek. Then, he slowly turns to brush his lips against your palm, leaving a soft kiss there, and my god, you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. It’s too much for you to handle, his gestures are too sweet, to loving for you to not turn into a flustered mess.

He leans in once again, and this time, you cup his cheeks, pulling him closer until your lips meet and move in a synchrony of pure bliss. The hum he lets out is your favorite kind of music, it always build up the want for you to hear more. It’s just a pure expression of love that the both of you share, erasing every memory of anything else except each other. You love him, he loves you. That is all, and that is enough.

You never really knew that the man who wore his heart on his sleeve would end up meaning so much to you, but now that he’s yours, you never want to let him go.

It seems very practiced, owing to the countless times you’ve done this before, yet making your heart flutter all the same when the words “I love you” leave his lips in a hushed whisper. Only you’re allowed to hear those words, that tone, that beaming smile that pulls at his lips when his eyes meet your own even in this darkness. Even in this darkness, he thinks you look absolutely stunning, and all he wants to do is tell you how much he loves you over and over again. Well, that’s love. And love is an amazing thing to experience, you can say for sure.

You let yourself smile into the kiss before leaving a quick peck and pulling away, feeling him do the same before opening his eyes and gazing at your features. You shyly look to the side, noticing the leaves that sway gently where the gentle wind hits them.

Even though the atmosphere is cold, you feel fuzzy and warm when Chan giggles, sparing a quick look to his watch before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Come on, we have some time before leaving, we can play on the swings.”

Oh, he knows the child in you too well.

When you’re done swinging the swings and collecting some flowers that seem fresh, you circle the route of of the park and back to the entrance, it’s already one in the morning. Most — especially your group members — would argue that the both of you should’ve been sleeping by now, owing to your hectic schedule that leaves you weary by the end of the day. But you tell them sometimes, just to get that one hour to spend with your lover, you’re willing to make the sacrifice — and seeing the loving, misty glint in your eyes, they understand.

“So, I guess... I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chan says, and you kick the air gently before pulling your mask over your face. Seeing you, he does the same.

“Yeah, you’ll be in your studio, right? I can drop by.”

“Yeah. So, um...” You and Chan can never seem to ever part ways once your quality time with each other comes to a halt, the both of you want to reach out and embrace, and never leave. You often wonder what lead to your silent life being plagued with the essence of love, but then you see Chan, and you smile when you realise the answer.

And so, as if trying to hold onto the moment, freeze time a bit, you turn to him and pull him into a hug. He immediately responds and wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on your neck as you sway from side to side. The road is quiet with the occasional vehicle speeding past, but you pay no attention to it. All you feel is Chan’s welcoming arms, his familiar smell that clouds your senses and makes you feel relaxed than ever.

“I love you, so much.” You murmur, not even sure if he’s able to hear it, but he does. He always does.

“I love you too.”

At that, you try to pull away to look into his eyes one last time, but Chan doesn’t let you, pulling his arms tighter across you and holding you close.

You laugh. “Chan.”

“Yes?” He drags the word and smirks mischievously.

“I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” You remind. “It’s late.”

“Mmh, alright.” He says, straightening himself from the embrace but not quite letting go yet. “But give me one more kiss before you go.”

You raise an eyebrow before looking around. While the interior of the park does have trees and stuff to cover the walls, the entrance doesn’t, and that sparks some nervousness within you, though you aren’t exactly worried. You’ve gotten away with stuff like this before, when either of you gets clingy and wants that one last lingering moment before you go your separate ways.

You lean in slowly and he just stands there, waiting for you to kiss him with that smile that he just can’t contain when he looks at you. When you pull both your masks down and your lips meet, it’s only for one tiny peck. You then quickly pull away and pull your mask over your face again, and Chan, though giggling furiously at the way he can see you’ve gone a little warm at the action, does the same.

You then bid goodbye and walk your way back home, the warmth that lingers all over skin so, so soothing to your mind. It’s like someone took away all your worries, leaving you in a bubble of contentment. It’s almost surprising how in the grand scheme of things, one person could stumble into your way and completely take your breath away, all because of the word we call love. You’ve realised how love means so much to you after Chan entered your life, and you don’t seem to be changing that idea any time soon.

When you’re almost close to home, your phone dings with a message, with the sender id “channieeee <3″. Instantly, you click on the message.

channieeee <3: so channieeee <3: same time tomorrow? channieeee <3: pls 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 pls pls pls pls-

A dizzy, pure smile captures your expression, and so, not wanting to delay your plans to meet your lover again, you reply.

y/n: same time tomorrow, then 🥺💞 love you <3

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

230 notes · View notes

nakedmossy · 3 years

Text

Cruel Summer - Part 1 [JJ x Reader]

[A/N: Hi again. I've missed you. It was time for something new. I found this story in a dream. Prepare for a mental trip, it's indicative of the year i've had. This is gonna go in a million different directions and I can't say i'm surprised. Ive written two chapters and i'm already like ...well, fuck it i'm posting it...I needed to get back into writing and this is what I got so enjoy. I have a playlist I used while writing, comment if you want it shared. As always, not that any of us need the reminder....but there will be adult content (whatever that means) and language and NSFW content so...keep me off your screen at the dinner table. Love y'all ...Mossy x]

You ease your car into park, your hand resting on the gear shift, the tires slowly rocking back and forth on the soft ground as the engine dies. Sunlight streams through your windshield as a cloud of dust and sand settles around the car, and you feel a trapped breath release from deep in your chest. The quiet, melodic hum of music relaxes your shoulders and through the trees you can see the water rhythmically hitting the shore.

You haven’t been here in a few weeks and you're starting to feel it; the tight and uncomfortable tensing in your muscles, the locked jaw, the flat expressions. The closer it gets to the anniversary the more you feel the need to visit. But the frequency of your visits is dictated by Her, and She keeps tabs on your whereabouts a lot these days. ‘Its not healthy to spend so much time there’ She would say to you, while pulling a Valium out of her bag to slide towards you. She has your therapist on speed dial on the landline. And she blames you for living in the past. Ironic.

You pull your keys out of the ignition, unbuckle your seatbelt, and let your muscle memory guide you out of the car and through the trees to the edge of the embankment where the sand and the sea grass take over. Flashes of Lacey running down the beach in front of you, looking back over her shoulder and laughing, are burned into your eyelids when you blink. She was everywhere here, every corner of this beach belonged to her. Her towel spread out on the sand at your feet, books with water damaged pages scattered across it, her bag tossed lazily to the side. Her board perched against the log you used to dry out your wetsuits. Her camera.

You close your eyes and listen to the wind move through the grass, her laugh echoing off the rocks. Come on! She would laugh with an outstretched arm. Come take a picture with me.

Her lips were supple and her nose was sun kissed, her hair bleached and tousled from the saltwater. She would motion for you to come over and you would go, because you always did, to fit into the frame next to her, cramming yourself in wherever you could after she found her best angle. She would hold up the camera and wrap her arm around you tightly, the smell of her tanning oil and sweat floating around you in a heady cloud, and at the last moment she would press her lips to your cheek and whisper cheese.

You blink and look at the water again, a seagull squawking as it flies over the empty beach. Reaching into your jeans pocket and feeling for the photo, you pull it out and look down, the moment she clicked the button frozen in time on the paper in your hand. Her side profile was radiant, the wind blowing her hair around her lips which were pressed to your face, you looked straight at the camera with a shy smile, a hidden smile, a quiet smile. An honest smile.

You run your thumb across the picture reflexively before sighing and putting the picture back in your pocket, it was one of the last photos you had together and it was one of the only ones you could clearly make out your own face. That always bothered you. Now you’ll never forget how happy we were today. I love you. She shook the polaroid until it was developed, then pressed it into your chest and winked, waiting for you to grab ahold of it, before turning on her heal and running towards the water.

Your chest burns for a moment before you straighten up and set your jaw. You feel good today, closer to her than usual. Today might be the day. You follow the path through the dunes towards the water and concentrate on the tide, watching the foam and the water snake along the shoreline. It’s windy, but not as windy as it usually is this time of day. The sky, clear and clean of any clouds, is the colour of blue that reminds you what happiness is. Or was, you know, before all the shit happened. When life was something you had the ability to process, sometimes even enjoy.

Now or never. Your head whips up at the sound of her voice and you see her, standing in the water. You feel the blood rush to your face, your core warming. There she is, running a hand up her stomach towards her chest and smiling at you, the kind of smile that would get good people into bad situations.

Slowly you slide your sneakers off and kick them aside, wiggling the sand between your toes. You’re not wearing a bikini but the beach is empty, so you close your eyes and listen to Lacey laughing from the water, come on scaredy cat, nobodies looking, as you peel your top off and drop it into the sand beside your shoes. You unbutton your shorts next and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them hesitantly.

Lacey walks out of the water, so you keep your eyes closed, knowing if you open them she will be gone, and you wait for her to bite her lip and smile at you. There. Look at your body. You’re beautiful. Come on. She guides you towards the water with nothing but her own bare skin and confidence, nothing could ever touch her. You know its only a few steps until your feet are in the water, you should open your eyes and look around to make sure nobody is watching, but you don’t get to see her often anymore between the Valium and the other stuff, so you forgo it for a few more seconds. Today is the day, you have to do it. Time is running out. She’s all but told you as much.

“I miss you” You say, but your voice sounds foreign and it breaks and scatters into the wind.

Im right here. Lacey smiles at you like she always did, her crooked dimpled grin, her perfectly straight white teeth, her eyes shining. Now shut up and get in the water.

You feel the warm dry sand turn to wet firm sand beneath your feet, you know you’re close. It’s ours, all of it. The water. Just let go and let the Ocean carry you. You’re weightless. Isn’t it perfect?

Your breathing is shallow and your palms are clammy. There’s a tingling sensation in your thighs and you feel dizzy. You have to open your eyes. No, don’t. Not yet. Stay with me.

The water touches your toes and your eyes shoot open, you recoil and lose your footing, falling backwards. You crab crawl away from the water until the tide retreats and you feel your vision tunnelling as Lacey fades into the sunbeam above the water.

You scramble back to your clothes and pull your shorts above your sand stained underwear, your shirt smoothing your hair down as it settles back over your shoulders. You take a few deep breaths until your heart rate slows down. A tear springs up and sits in your eye for a few moments before falling and drying on your cheek. The beach is the best place to cry. The ocean is loud so nobody hears you, and the sun is hot so the tears dry fast.

You don’t want to turn around and look back at the water, you know she won’t be there. You’re alone, properly alone, just like she said you would be, psychic bitch. If she hadn’t been so charismatic and beautiful and conveniently wealthy, people would have outcasted her for being a freak a long time ago. What with all the tealeaves and palm readings and ‘gut feelings’. But they never did, her family had more money than the Kennedys and she looked like she walked runways for fun on the weekends, so she was untouchable. Your stomach starts to turn as you think about it so you blink the ground in front of you back into focus and start walking.

You have a few minutes of freedom left before She starts calling and asking where you are, so you walk slow to savour it. Who knows when you would be allowed out long enough again to go back.

You emerge from the tree cover into the parking area, pondering how many different routes you can take to get home to elongate the drive, when you hear a car door close. You look up, pulled from your thoughts, and squint to see through the bright sun.

“‘Scuse me!” A voice says, deep and friendly. A silhouette is moving towards you, so you bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. “Hey, sorry, do you live around here?”

You blink a few times as the silhouette gets closer and make out the figure of a tall man with wispy hair and baggy shorts.

“Sorry?” You reply, still trying to get a clear image.

“Im just trying to find the Marina but I have taken at least 5 of these side roads and all I keep finding is empty damn parking lots.” The man stops a few feet from you, close enough that you can make out a tan face with a toothy grin, and blonde hair. “First one with a pretty girl though, so I must be going the right way.” He smiles at you confidently, shielding his own eyes from the sun, but still squinting.

You look back over your shoulder to the beach, confirming Lacey is gone. You turn and look at the man who is watching you intently, hopefully, and smile quietly.

“Yeah, it’s uh…its just back on the main road, go 3 clicks south and take a right at the fork. You’ll see a fancy sign for a beach club, it’s just past that.” You look past him to the old Ford truck with rusted wheel wells and smile to yourself. “Assuming you’re not going to the beach club.”

The man laughs and smiles, looking over your shoulder at the beach before his eyes settle back on you. “Nope. Never been to one of those…legally.” He winks and backs up a few steps, then nods and says “Thanks” before turning and walking back towards his truck. He slows as he reaches it and stops, then turns back and pivots before jogging back to you.

You wait and watch, curious. He stops a few steps away and stretches out his hand.

“Sorry. That was rude of me. Im JJ.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #rudy pankow #obx fanfiction #obxedit #nakedmossywrites #cruel summer

43 notes · View notes

fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

Bumblebees and Buttercups

Tommy knows how to get into the forest and even though it’s against the rules he can’t resist showing his friend

Hiiii I disappeared for a bit- sadly but I am back with a little snack sized fic that could probably use more polish!

This takes place in my DFF AU and here is the ao3 link!

Hope you enjoy!

A soft breeze brushed against Tommy’s skin as he pulled on his friend’s floppy, threadbare, sleeve.

“Come on! It’s not that far now!”

“Where are we even going? We’re all the way in the fourth ring!” Tubbo said, jumping over a dip in the road, Tommy had insisted on showing him a ‘very cool and important secret’ after school that day but wouldn’t explain a single thing else.

“You’ll see- now come on! You’re so slow!”

Tommy missed Tubbo’s eye roll and tried to urge him along, hoping to avoid the more dodgy areas Phil warned him about years ago.

He led them past Skeppy’s shack, past the dilapidated buildings, and towards the fence. They ended up close to the gap that Tommy had followed Techno through a few weeks earlier.

Tommy ducked behind a house, motioning dramatically for Tubbo to follow, Tommy looking for the telltale willow tree vines that hid the gap, ignoring Tubbo’s questions.

“There it is!” He started to run but skidded to a halt, cautiously checking the area, then crept forwards, waving for Tubbo to join him.

He peeled back the gangly green vines and looked to Tubbo for a reaction.

“What- what is this?”

“The forest outside the rings!”

“Well obviously- how did you find it?”

“That’s not important,” Tommy grinned, “What is important is that we have access to the outside world.”

“What are we even gonna do with this?”

“Well- I don’t know- it’s- it’s cool! It’s just cool-” He paused, “Not like you would get cool.”

Tubbo nodded, taking a step closer to the fence, “What do you think is out there?”

“Nothing we can’t handle! Come on- it’ll be fun! We can do anything we want!” And without waiting for a response Tommy marched in, Tubbo sighed before trailing behind.

The edge of the forest looked worse than the last time Tommy had seen it, more litter was scattered in the foliage and trees, the thickets were sharper and pulled at already thin clothing and pricked his skin but that didn’t stop him.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Of course! I’ve been here loads of times!” Tommy jabbed a thumb at his own chest proudly.

“How many times?”

“Uh- too many to count!” Tommy stammered, scrambling over a mossy log, intentionally crunching on the leaves. “Just know that I am a professional!”

Tubbo snorted, optioning to crouch under the log instead.

They continued deeper into the woods, soft sunlight dappling through the canopy of leaves, emerald green grass brushing against their ankles, the chittering of nearby animals filled their ears.

“Do you think there are bees in here?”

“Of course- there have to be!”

“I’d like to see them- I’ve only seen a few in the rings…”

“Hell yeah! Let’s go find us some bees! There are probably some close by!”

The pair bounced through the woods, crossing little creeks and streams, hopping from rock to rock and trying to swing on the low hanging weak vines on the trees.

Tommy had tried a particularly weak one, slipped, and landed flat on his back.

They happened upon a little flower patch, immediately taking notice of the buzzing coming from the vibrant flowers, a few yellow specks fluttering about.

Tommy watched as Tubbo crouched down and inched closer, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Ya know Tubbo- I don’t really get why you like those things.”

“I don’t know why either, I just think they’re neat, come and watch them.”

“No- that sounds boring.” Tommy said as he shuffled closer to Tubbo, who was poking tentatively at the bees. “Moths are better.”

“No they’re not,”

“Yes they are!”

“If they are so much better then where are they?”

“They-they’re not out right now- because-” Tommy trailed off briefly.

“‘Cause they’d get eaten.” Tubbo filled in nonchalantly, not bothering to look up.

Tommy shrieked, “Aw no! That’s sick- that’s so sick! You’re so twisted!”

“I’m not twisted- that’s just how nature works-”

“Nature is stupid!”

“You’re stupid-”

They bickered back and forth for a moment before the argument dissolved and they sat in a not awkward but not comfortable silence.

Tubbo broke it, rubbing a soft yellow flower petal between his fingers, “I wonder what type of flower this is- the bees seem to really like it.”

Tommy looked up, briefly stopping from pulling up grass, “They’re buttercups.” He said simply.

“You answered that fast.” Tubbo teased, watching Tommy’s head shoot up.

“Well- well yeah! Because I’m so smart I just know these things!”

Tubbo laughed, plucking a bee free buttercup from the ground and laying it across Tommy’s busted up shoes.

“Sure big man.”

In turn Tommy took it and tried to weave it between the laces, after he mangled the steam just enough to get it to stay he picked a buttercup of his own and stuck it in a free button gap on Tubbo’s shirt.

They grinned at each for a moment before Tommy cleared his throat and looked over at the bees, “Hm, they aren’t so bad.”

“They’re great- at least they actually do things for the environment- unlike moths!”

“I’m tired of your shit! Moths are great and it’s not my fault that you’re too stupid to see that!”

The banter continued until they heard the bushes rustle and froze, it was too strong and too loud for it to be a small animal. Tommy put up a hand and crept forwards, taking care to not step on anything that could alert the thing of his presence.

He stood on his tiptoes and looked out to see something slinking forwards, hissing softly, not in his direction, it almost blended in with forest as it.

He wasn’t able to recognize it but knew it was bad news, just looking at the monster’s bend form sent sharp shivers down his back.

Tommy let out a shaky breath and took a step back, he had heard Techno say there were monsters in the forest before but he thought Techno was just trying to scare him.

He tried to rationalize to himself, it was fine, the monster didn’t even know he was there, they just had to sneak away- which was totally doable!

Tommy took a one cautious step backwards, still keeping his eyes locked on the monster. He took another, didn’t make a sound, and the monster's head snapped to the side, zeroing in on him.

It’s eyes narrowed and it let out a sharp, grading, cry before charging forwards at full speed.

Tommy shrieked and ran towards Tubbo, grabbing his arm in an attempt to pull him up, babbling about a ‘something big something bad- monster- run run run’.

They rushed through the trees, trying to stick close to one another without tripping, jumping over large roots and avoiding vines they didn’t dare bother to look back.

“We need to move around more- so we’re harder to follow!” Tubbo called to him, Tommy shook his head.

“No! We could get lost- besides we can out run that bastard!”

The land started to look a little familiar, the trees started thinning and the chitters of the animals were dying down.

Tommy dared to look behind him and skidded to a halt, chest heaving, he didn’t see the monster behind him and flopped on the ground, trying desperately to suck down as much air as possible.

He heard Tubbo stop too, looking over to see him leaning against a tree, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“So- besides- besides the monster- I think that went pretty well.”

Tubbo gave him a look before laughing, “Yeah- yeah it did.”

They waited for a few moments, trying to get their breathing back under control, Tommy took to breaking a twig into smaller pieces while Tubbo fiddled with the flower still stuck in his shirt.

After a while Tommy sat up, immediately regretting it as all the blood rushed from his head, tossing the shredded twig bits aside.

“We should probably get back home,”

Tubbo nodded as Tommy climbed to his feet then rushed over and grabbed Tubbo’s shoulders.

“You can’t tell anyone about any of this, okay Tubbo? It has to be a complete secret.”

Tubbo nodded again, putting his hands on top of Tommy’s, “Got it!”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay- now let's get out of here.” They walked to the edge of the forest and after making sure the coast was clear ran over and ducked back through the fence, pushing the swaying willow vines away.

The fourth circle was quiet, the cracked cobble brick roads were barren, the sun was just starting to set so they picked up the pace.

They couldn’t have gotten three houses down the road until they ran into Technoblade, he barely spared them a passing glance, in favor of messing with a hole in his sleeve.

“There you guys are.” He said, “Knew you were out here.”

“What- how?”

“It’s a sense- I can tell when you’re doing something stupid.”

“That’s rude- I don’t do stupid things-”

“Sure Tommy, now lets get home.” Techno had already turned to walk away.

“Get home?”

“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder, “You have people who worry about your wellbeing you know.”

‘I don’t think you know that.’ Tommy wanted to retort but kept his mouth shut, trailing behind Techno who didn’t seem to understand there wasn’t a rush to get home and there was no need for him to walk that fast.

The walk back was mostly silence saved for a few questions about the weekend's homework. The trio eventually reached the rusty metal stairs, Techno turned to Tubbo.

“Can you make it back to your place okay?”

Tubbo nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be fine, see you later.” He waved and continued down the street.

They watched him leave and Tommy felt his nerves settle just a little bit when;

“You were in the forest.” It wasn’t a question.

“Uh-”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Tommy froze, not sure of what to do, was Techno mad at him or just annoyed? He could never tell.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Techno sighed, Tommy shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Didn’t see anything weird in there?”

“Nope.” Tommy felt like it was probably better if Techno didn’t know about the monster even if it didn’t get that close- better safe than sorry.

Techno eyed him up and down. “Okay you’re definitely lying.”

“What! No I’m not- you stupid-”

“Yeah yeah- just get upstairs.” Techno sighed again, nudging Tommy towards the stairs.

Tommy stuck his tongue out but headed up towards the apartment anyways, grinning when he looked down and noticed the buttercup still wrapped in between his shoe laces.

It was busted up and missing a few petals but was still soft between his fingertips and glowed softly in the dim light of his room.

He put it in a little glass of water on his desk for a reminder of his adventure with his friend.

#mcyt #tommyinnit #tubbolive #tubbo #clingyduo #clingyblr #MCYT DFF AU #Apples Writing #I forgot how to tag #fluff #flowers and bugs

28 notes · View notes

trojc-rewrite · 3 years

Text

The Rise of Jimmy Casket Rewrite, Chapter Four

——————————————————————————

Toast blinked, his body not moving for a few seconds. His heart and lungs were lurching in his chest, he felt hot and cold at the same time. He let a shaky smile across his face, laughing a bit.

Ghost fixed his hair, cold lake water dripped slowly from his hair tips. His gray sweater was almost black from the lake water, and a strand of seaweed was strapped to his shoulder.

“Ghost,” Toast said solemnly. A million emotions were exploding in his chest, like tiny fireworks popping. Relief, joy, confusion. He wanted to wrap his arms around his friend, and never let him go. He wanted to hold him there in a warm hug, and sit there solemnly forever.

“Ghost I, where have you- thank you- but where have you been? I-I was so worried. Sir I’ve missed you so much,” he spilled out. Ghost looked at him, a mixed emotion glazing his good eye. But to Toast’s relief he smiled, showing an emotion not often seen in his best friend.

“There's so much. It’s too much to really explain right now.” Ghost said, picking the string of seaweed off his shoulder. He flicked it off of his fingers, and it hit Spooker in the leg. The ginger made a disgusted face, peeling it off of his jeans.

Ghost shook out his sleeve, staying quiet for a few minutes. “I was on my way back home believe it or not, and then I saw you and Gavin- just, holy shit. You absolute dumbass,” He breathed out a sigh. “I mean, I love how brave you are but Jesus, you can’t be dying on me.”

Toast chuckled, sitting upwards gently. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I almost died on this trip, that’s for sure.”. Ghost smiled a tiny bit, before turning his attention to Toast's leg.

“We should get somewhere warm, and get that wound looked at. It could be infected.” Ghost said, leaning over his friend's leg. The wound was pulsing with cold, dull pain.

The four of them were quiet, not speaking. A question hung in the air, “but where?”. Toast's wallet was soaked, so no cash. Ghost more than likely couldn’t afford to get a hotel room for four people, with Spooker and Colon in the same boat.

The river water lapped at the beach, making soft sounds against the sandy grass. Wind howled over him, pointing out how cold he was getting. It laughed at him, taunting him with inevitable hypothermia if he stayed out here. “Maybe my credit cards survived my fall.” Toast said, grabbing his sodden wallet.

Luckily, they did. He had only one really old card, but it would do for tonight.

Toast looked up from his wallet, and made eye contact with Colon. His eyes were staring at him, and he nodded to him. Toast knew what that meant, that was Colon’s silent way of asking “may we talk, specifically without Ghost.”

“Ghost, there’s a motel across the bridge. I hate to be that person, would you mind booking us a room for the night? I might take a few minutes to get up.” He said, blinking some water droplets from his eyes.

Ghost was quiet, unreadable emotions filling his face. “Okay, just don’t be too late.” He said, and Toast smiled at him.

“Thank you Sir. We’ll be there soon.” Toast said. His friend got up, wringing out his hoodie sleeve. He shook his hair out one last time, spraying Spooker and Colon with water droplets.

Ghost rolled his eye slightly, which Toast laughed at. “Still being grumpy, I see?”. His friend snorted.

“Yeah, I guess.” He said, smiling slightly. He grabbed his satchel from the shore.

Ghost disappeared over the bridge, the night consuming him until he was nothing more than a ringing thought in Toast’s head.

Spooker and Colon turned to him, eyes hard. “We hope that you know that we have several questions.”

Toast rubbed the wedding ring on his neck, feeling anxiety beginning to blossom in his belly. “Of course you do.” He joked.

Colon sat down on a mossy rock, “I’m just thinking. Aren’t you angry with him?” He asked, looking at him with foggy eyes.

Toast gave him a confused look. “Why would I be?”

Colon held out his arms in a matter-of-fact way. “He left us Toast! He left you to hold P.I.E together, he left me and Spooker with barely any knowledge on anything. Hell, Spooker is STILL a trainee!”

Spooker hesitantly nodded.

“He just left us. We barely got an explanation. He just said ‘Hey I gotta go, dunno when I’ll be back.’ You aren’t upset over that? Not even in the slightest? He left you with scraps!”

Colon looked upset, but not in an angry way. He looked sad, as if he had actually been hurt when Ghost left. In which, Toast didn’t get 100%, sure they had their moments of clarity, and sometimes they worked together brilliantly, but he didn’t think they were that close.

‘He holds a grudge with Ghost for leaving.’ Toast thought, ‘Which I can’t even blame him for. If I wasn’t so close to Ghost I would be too.’

He studied his inner emotions more, taking a few minutes to breathe before answering. ‘Maybe I am mad at him for leaving.’ He thought. Toast could feel a kernel of anger settled in the knot of other emotions, weaved in there like a root. It was small, it wasn’t enough to make him be this upset, but it was there. And Toast was sure that Colon probably felt it more.

‘Maybe he looked up to him, in a weird way.’ He thought finally.

He took a deep breath. “I am upset with him.” He answered truthfully. “But I feel like anger won’t solve anything here.”

He played with the gold ring around his neck, watching it catch the moonlight with a glint. The ring brought back memories. Memories of him and Mary dancing on their wedding night, proposing to her. And then came the unpleasant memories, muddled in, unfortunately intertwined. And then came the memories of Ghost, him coming to visit him every day, taking care of him, helping him with his alcohol addiction. Telling him it would work out in the end, that he’d be happy again. Some of the rare moments of Ghost’s optimism, some that he knew he might not ever see again.

“But, even though him leaving wasn’t right, and I agree that he shouldn’t have left on such short notice, I forgive him for it too. There’s so much to Ghost, he’s a complicated person, as cliche as that sounds.

“He didn’t mean to hurt us. I know that for a fact. Ghost cares about us, he refuses to say it, he hates showing vulnerability, but he loves both you and Spooker. He has his moments, but they’re easy to miss.

“But, I don’t blame you for being upset with him. Him leaving us for those few weeks, it wasn’t the best thought out decision. But confronting him about it, I feel like it’ll cause more issues.”

Colon took in what he said for a few minutes, his expression softening. Spooker shuffled beside him, looking lost in thought. His eyebrows were knitted in soft confusion.

“I understand that he respects us, I guess I was just hurt when he left. He left us with more questions than answers. He left me thinking, ‘what did I do wrong?’, those things are just so hard to get over. I just hope he tells us. We’re a team right? We’re supposed to trust each other. Why didn’t he want to tell us?”

Toast brought his legs closer to his body, straining as his leg pulsed with numb pain again.

“Ghost has his secrets, and we should respect that. Plus, he always tells us inevitably, one way or another.”

He got up, limping a bit. Spooker helped him stand, getting to his side. The ginger still looked lost in thought, his eyes somewhere not in the conversation.

Colon nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

He stood up, dusting off his pants. Moss stuck to his legs, staining his jeans green.

“Now let's go, I can’t wait to sleep on something that isn’t dirt.” Colon said.

Spooker chuckled slightly to himself. Toast blinked at him, and Spookers eyes focused. “Sorry! I was just thinkin, ya know how it is.”

Toast smiled, “I understand.”

He slowly closed his hand around his ring necklace, staring up at the stars. They glowed so bright, Toast felt calmed by them. It reminded him of his wedding after party, after most people had gone home. That night was a blast, but Toast's favorite memory was that one.

He, Mary and Ghost all staring at the stars, pointing out constellations and telling quiet stories of their youth. Ghost told stories of Toast, as all of them shared drinks under moonlight.

He smiled slightly to himself.

“Mary, my love, I’m keeping them safe as you asked.”

——————————————————————————-

A calm chapter for the soul, these poor boys needed a break.

New chapter should be up soon! So sorry for the wait!

#p.i.e #paranormal investigators extraordinaire #venturiantale #johnny ghost #jimmy casket #johnny toast #venturiantale pie #fred spooker #colon ghostie

17 notes · View notes