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auteurdelabre · 20 hours

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SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 11: SNOW

Rating: 18+

words: 15.2k

a/n #1: He's problematic but I love him your honor.

a/n #2: I LOVE Y'ALL for loving this fic! I see your comments and they warm my heart. I get inspired, I start writing the next chapter. I just fuckin love y'all. Please keep up the support here and on my A03.

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REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Chapter 11: Snow

It's one of those nights where the weather feels biting and the snow heavy. The kind of weather that urges you to stay indoors and keep warm.

Luke invited you and Jennifer to the Bison for karaoke earlier but you declined, citing you had other plans.

Plans which involve the cup of tea at your elbow, the paperback in your hands and the fire going in the hearth. You feel cozy and warm and are almost drifting off when a knock at the door sounds.

You slip out from under the blanket over your legs, padding over to the door and opening it a crack to see a familiar face.

"Oh, hey Tommy."

The younger Miller comes in, shaking off the flakes from his shoulder. He lets the cold in, taking his time entering your home before closing the door behind him.

"Hey sorry to be callin' so late."

"Oh it's fine," you insist, suppressing a yawn. "You wanna drink?"

"Nah this'll be quick." Tommy sniffles, the end of his nose red from the cold. "S'about patrols."

"Uh huh?"

Tommy looks curiously uncomfortable, like a child who's been forced to apologize for something he feels he's not responsible for.

"I was thinkin' and you don't have'ta do ‘em anymore. I'll find someone to take over your spot if you need."

Tommy's face holds a myriad of expression, concern being the most predominant. Yours however holds nothing but confusion.

"Who?"

"Uh, was thinkin' of that Jennifer girl," Tommy says, hands deep in his coat pocket. He shifts from foot to foot slowly. "She seemed pretty up for it before. Was gonna head over to her place after this and ask her to take over til we find someone new to train."

This feels like a punch in the gut.

Useless.

The word Joel used when you first began. The word you thought you'd outgrown comes back like a sharp slap across the cheek. Your fingernails dig into the wood frame around the door, clinging to it.

The fire crackles dimly in the background, a soundtrack to your humiliation. Tommy can't look you in the eyes now and you have a feeling you know why. It makes you feel small and pathetic.

"Do you..." The words don't come easily, you have to force them. "Do you think I'm not good enough to be on patrols?"

"No," Tommy answers quickly, eyes wide and head shaking vehemently. "No. Not at all. This is just... I know back when you started you said you didn't really wanna do it. Preferred kitchen duty."

"Yeah."

"And we got some new blood in town lately, so I figured, you know..."

They think I'm useless.

Why else would Tommy be offering this? Stories must have gotten around. Maybe Luke said something in passing about you being stuck with window patrol while they did repairs. Maybe Jennifer was worried that you were being treated poorly.

Maybe Joel doesn't want you as his partner anymore.

That seems the most likely and somehow stings the most. A thought skitters across your brain like an unwelcome insect that makes your face grow cloudy.

"Did Joel tell you I'm bad on patrols or something? Is that the real reason you're here?"

"No. Joel never said you were bad on patrols."

If Tommy's lying he's doing a damn good job of it. Still, it feels like he's editing himself, holding something back.

You swallow, feeling a lump forming there. Part of you thinks it would be so easy to give in and agree to stopping. So easy to never have to put up with Joel's snide remarks or the panic you feel outside the gates.

But there is something in the loss of that challenge that frightens you more. Something that feels worse than useless, it feels like cowardice. Something that feels like The Group wins even if they hold no power over you anymore. You suppose that's what motivates you to address Tommy with what you hope sounds like confidence.

"I'd like to continue with them," you say to the ground at his feet. "If that's okay with you."

"You sure?"

You nod, watching an uneasy smile spread across his handsome features. Like he shouldn't be glad about your response but is.

"All right, then. I'll skip my next stop."

He leaves with a wave and you watch him trudging through the snow out the window, your arms coming to wrap around yourself, but not because of the cold.

///

"Focus and aim."

You grit your teeth before narrowing your eyes and focusing all your attention on the empty tin can sitting on the fence. It's cold today, biting, and the scarf you wear wraps around the lower half of your face.

You hold the weapon as you've been training, aiming with not your right eye but your left.

You inhale, your ears pricked at every sound. All the birds chattering in the trees, the wind that blows the faraway sound of the townspeople. Even Jennifer's light breathing behind you. You make it all go quiet.

"Fuck I can't. It's too loud out here."

"Loud?" Jennifer glances around the two of you, completely alone in the field.

"Yeah. Birds, wind, echoes...."

You shift restlessly before bringing the shotgun back up to your eye level. You want to get this right.

"Think of something calming," Jennifer urges, her eyes falling over your face as you focus. "Something that makes everything go quiet."

Something that makes everything go quiet.

Something calm.

Something that quells the frenetic beating of you heart.

Something that gives you that sweet blissful escape.

You try to think of that first sip of tea after a long day. How it mixes with the honey on your tongue, how you savor it. But it's not enough.

You think of the way running water sounds.

The sensation of sunlight on your bare shoulders.

The soft muzzle of Chesnut.

Joel.

His dark eyes meeting yours when you knelt at his feet that last time. When his hand went to your cheek.

That's when everything felt safe and quiet.

Jennifer seems to notice the steadying of your breathing because she nods approvingly as you let out a slow exhale.

"Now shoot."

You don’t want to think of Joel. He can’t be your safe thought. You force your mind to think of something else.

Making pastries with Ellie.

The sound Chestnut makes when he eats carrots.

Your sisters smile.

You pull the trigger, feeling as the weapon kicks back against your braced shoulder. The sound of the blast makes you wince.

The can doesn't even move a fraction.

"So close!" Jennifer insists, shielding her eyes from the glare of the grey sky on the snow. "It definitely grazed it."

"Won't do much good grazing a clicker," you frown, lowering the weapon. Wind whips stray strands of your hair against your ruddy cheek.

Oh c'mon now," Jennifer says trying to rouse your spirits. "We've been practising for weeks and you're getting so much better."

When Tommy came to offering you the repeat of patrols, you should have taken him up on it. And yet something churned within your guts. Insisted that you continue on with Jennifer's coaching trying to perfect your shooting skills.

Because there is no Chiyo. No protector. No benevolent figure to save you. It's just you now. You and you alone. And months ago the thought would have terrified you into never leaving your home. It would have burst into grateful tears at the thought of being let off the hook.

But something's been changing these last few months, something that gets stronger with every lesson Jennifer gives you, with every gallop atop of Chestnut. Something that whispers: not useless.

You kick at a stray patch of dirty snow, angry at yourself. You want to be better but it's taking so long. You want to feel more confident on patrols but your aim isn't progressing fast enough for you. You want to prove yourself not useless.

"Alright Smiley," Jennifer says slinging a companionable arm around your shoulder. "Let's go have breakfast."

///

Breakfast on cold days is always something warm like eggs or oatmeal with honey. Often there's hot chocolate which you take gratefully between your hands today. You make a note to pack one for patrols in the Thermos you keep at home.

You sit across from Jennifer who is back lit by the morning sun and looks like a goddess. How is Joel not more obvious in his intention for her? He's handsome but he's also at least fifty. He shouldn't be so picky with his personality the way it is.

But then again from what you've seen there's a certain air around Joel wherever he goes. One that has women of all ages smiling shyly and stammering when he's in the vicinity. Once you saw one woman drop an entire bag of yarn when he walked by in town. She didn't notice for a full three minutes.

"So how did baking go with Ellie?"

You're surprised by this question. You'd assumed that the whole baking with Ellie thing was private. You certainly haven't talked about it with anyone.

"Uh, how did-"

"She's going around telling eve ryone at school that she was baking with you," Jennifer laughs. "My friend Rebecca teaches her."

You recall meeting Rebecca a few weeks ago at one of Jennifer's big friendly breakfasts. One where you sat quietly listening to the chatting figures around you, being drawn into the odd conversation but mostly keeping quiet. You never feel quite comfortable around big crowds.

"It was nice," you offer, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug a little tighter.

You have no intention of telling her what actually occurred. You don't want to tell her about the trauma you endured before Jackson City or the pain that Ellie saw reflected in your eyes. Jennifer’s lips curl into a sensuous smile.

"Was Joel there?"

"Yeah, he was around for a bit."

You don't meet her eyes as you say this. And for some reason you don't mention to her that Joel made that second batch of pastries or that he wasn’t rough with how he spoke to you. The whole experience feels too private, too sacred. No matter what, you won't be sharing that information.

"Speaking of which..." Jennifer trails off, nodding her head towards the door of the dining hall. You don't even bother looking over your shoulder; you know that she's referencing Joel.

You try not to look stiff but you are. You're still unsure of how to act around him after everything that happened.

The two of you eat quietly as your mind goes back to that day on Rancher Street. You still don't know how you feel about Joel; you're still perplexed by his actions. One day he hates you the next day he can tolerate you. It's all very confusing and not a little irritating.

"He's staring over here," Jennifer says a short while later, trying not to move her lips when she speaks. "Keeps sneaking looks every few minutes."

You feel a grin spreading over your features as your friend smiles prettily, pretending she doesn't notice her crush. Maybe Joel isn't as thick as you thought and there is hope for the two of them.

Jennifer dabs a bit at the egg on her plate with her toast, her sleeves rolled up to showcase her delicate wrists.

"So, you gonna ask him out?"

"Nah," Jennifer shakes her head before taking a long pull from her coffee mug. "Joel's an old fashioned guy. I can't see him being into that."

It strikes you as humorous that things like old-fashioned men are still a thing. After the world has gone to rot, you're still shocked that certain socially expected norms exist.

"Maybe that's what he needs though," you offer diplomatically. "A kick in the pants from a pretty lady."

"There's plenty else I'd like to do with his pants."

You make a face and the two of you collapse into hushed laughter, tilting over your breakfasts. Jennifer claps a hand over your shoulder in amusement; her laughed ebbing when you flinch at the contact. Her eyes study you a moment before a voice behind you breaks in.

"Mind if I join you two?"

Luke stands looking down at the both of you with a charming smile. His hair is mussed, obviously just woke it up. You're struck with how handsome he is in the early light of the day.

"Course not," you say smiling up at him.

He takes a seat next to Jennifer, his thick-lashed eyes on you.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to practice this morning. Was tired from last night."

"Karaoke at the Bison, right?" Jennifer laughs. "Wish I could have been there to see that. I had to help the ladies with a textile emergency."

"Where were you?" Luke asks, chewing his toast as he stares at you.

"Reading," you admit with a shy glance at your fork. "I like reading in front of the fire in cold weather."

You always have. It's a safety for you in many ways. Curled under a blanket with the fire hissing and your latest paperback in your hands. Something nostalgic and beautiful about the written word surviving everything.

"Hopefully the window we repaired held up in all this snow," Luke offers, glancing over his shoulder out the window. Flakes are falling gently.

"I'm sure it did, you guys are all good at that stuff," you offer kindly. Jennifer watches you and Luke with a look of satisfaction, like Cupid after a successful mission.

"You excited about patrols?" he grins over at you.

"How could I not be? I get to go with Mr. Congeniality," you drop your eyes to your plate when you hear Luke and Jennifer giggle.

You feel buoyed by their laughter, it takes you back to a time in life when you enjoyed making people laugh. Funny cartoons about teachers sketched on lined paper. Giggling behind hands as they were passed between desks.

"With my luck though he'll tell me I'm riding my horse wrong," you joke, encouraged on by their twittering laughter.

"Or hell, maybe I'm breathing wrong," you drop your voice several octaves, adopting Joel's twang. "Too much inhalin' enough exhalin'."

When you don't hear laughter at this you look up from your eggs to see that both Luke and Jennifer have started to grimace, looking over your shoulder.

"Just got the word that we gotta head out early today."

Fuck.

Your shoulders go to your ears in embarrassment as you feel Joel's tall body standing behind you.

"Looks like there's gonna be heavy snow this afternoon," Joel's rumbling baritone informs you the back of your head.

"Okay," you tell him, shooting only a brief look at him over your shoulder before dropping your eyes back to your eggs because you're too humiliated to completely turn around. "I'll join you when we're done breakfast."

You need a few minutes to collect yourself. You know Joel just heard everything. You need to regroup, maybe get advice from Jennifer on how to handle this.

"No time to wait," Joel insists, his tone flat. "S'go."

You feel Luke and Jennifer staring at you during this exchange and you clench your jaw tightly in irritation.

"I'll bus your tray," Jennifer offers quietly across from you. "You go on."

You shoot her a grateful look, nodding as you stand. Joel is waiting there at your back, heavy eyes staring at you as you pull your jacket on. He's already got the backpack on, a gun strapped to him.

You follow him wordlessly out the dining hall and towards the front gates where Midnight and Chestnut wait for you. Joel gives you the second gun, waiting for you to throw it over your shoulder before watching you hoist yourself up on Chestnut.

"You ok there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You shoot back.

Fuck, he's already starting in on you. Probably pissed off since he caught you mocking him. He says nothing in response as he pulls himself up on Midnight, throwing a long leg over the horse's black coat.

You give a wave to Hank before the gates are opened and you and Joel ride out. As always you follow his lead, eyes on the horizon as Tommy's words full your head.

Raiders. Be more careful.

It would be just your luck to run into them. Or clickers. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You're still not a good enough shot. Grazing isn't killing.

"Did Tommy tell you about-"

"The Raiders? Yeah."

He doesn't offer more than that.

Joel is quiet today, maybe even thoughtful. He doesn't speak to you on the way out to Teton Village but it's not with that same hostility that usually surrounds him. It's just regular quiet. He's not rude, but he's not friendly either. If the two of you were even acquaintances you'd think he was miffed with you. As it is the two of you travel on in silence until Teton.

It’s your week to check the traps and despite your fears, you feel more confident with a bit of firearms training from Jennifer. Despite this you find yourself sticking closer to Joel during this walk into the forest.

You circle the tall trees, jacket catching on a thick gnarled tree trunk before you tug it off. Joel doesn't angrily chastise you when you trip over a wet patch because of it and bump into his back. He just goes rigid, waiting for you to right yourself before continuing on.

“Watch your step.”

Your shotgun is out, aimed at whatever you hear in the underbrush which just turns out to be birds. Snow begins, dusting your shoulders as the two of you head back to the tied horses. The traps were empty, a good and bad sign all in one.

You’re paranoid as you travel to the outpost, your eyes scanning the horizon and the passing landmarks looking for anything that could be a danger. Clicker. Person. Your talks with Ellie of The Group have you suffering from nightmares lately and that bleeds into your day, making you convinced you can see a shock of red hair or a hyena-like female laugh.

But that’s impossible.

You travel in tense silence all the way to Teton Village. The snow crunches under the hooves of the horses and you're thankful that the snow has taken a reprieve, leaving it just grey and blustery.

Soon enough you are at the village, about to do your normal rounds of the perimeter. You're confused when Joel leads you towards outpost building instead. You tie up the horses across the street and down a few houses, much to your increasing confusion.

The wood creaks under your boots as the two of you make your way up to the outpost. You stop in front of the door, hand going to the lock. His voice is at your back, quiet. You feel him standing close behind you, likely waiting for you to make a mistake.

"You remember the new code?"

"Mhm."

You're pleased with yourself when you do and it unlocks without issue. You make your way inside, smiling to yourself as you kick off the excess snow from your boots and head towards the storage room.

Joel is close behind you and memories of the lingering moments you shared inside this very room make themselves known when you feel yourself slick between your legs. You hate yourself for it just a bit, the way your body betrays you.

"Gonna check that the window's holdin' up. You handle the log book."

You nod, going to the waiting page and scribbling your names inside along with the time. Joel makes his way up the creaking steps, and you watch as his long legs carry him. After a moment you hear some hammering and assume that there are a few things in need of minor repair or additional reinforcement.

You take this moment to scan some of the past entries, the most recent from the last group who was in here a few days ago.

Repairs look great. Thanks.

You take a minute to flip back, curious to see old passages from former patrols. You never really took the time to do so. Varieties of handwriting and printing fill some of the pages.

Donated Blankets (x4), jerky rations replaced (x4), water bottles (x4), matches (x1 box). HTH’s do not work here. Too much static. Nails and hammers needed for repair to library flooring.

Cramped writing, sprawling letters, so distinct and so personal. You keep flipping until you come upon last December 25th’s entry.

All I want for Christmas is to not be living in the apocalypse.

You smirk and turn the page back, finding the same handwriting a few months prior.

Who wants to go skiing?

Your smirk turns into a small giggle before you turn back to almost two years ago, eyes alighting on a longer entry that wipes the amusement from your face.

Infectected spotted near Weston’s Pharmacy during AM patrol. One woman; Bloater, one child; Stalker. Both shot and killed. No injuries to patrol members.

You wince as you read this just as Joel trudges down the steps. He must be finished with repairs. You watch as he grabs some of the feed for the horses from his bag and leaves without saying a word. He reappears moments later, shaking the snow irritated from his broad shoulders.

"S'really comin' down,” he murmurs as the two of you take your places at the table. He pushes your sandwich and thermos towards you across the table, sitting in the opposite chair and sighing.

"I like the snow," you murmur as you chew thoughtfully, eyes turned skyward out the window.

"Won't like it when we have to ride back in it," Joel huffs between bites. He chews aggressively as if the universe conjured up the snow just to personally upset him.

He's right though, riding back in it doesn't seem very fun. Lunch is a quick thing, both of you quiet before Joel tosses back a swig of his coffee and tells you he's going to fix up some loose boards upstairs.

You don't offer to help because you know there's not a chance he'll want it. Besides, your job is to be on lookout when he does repairs in case the sound draws attention. You finish your lunch, draining your thermos of its hot chocolate. You’re feeling the chill extra strong today.

Joel reappears not too long after hoisting his gun over his back. You look at him in curiosity because Joel looks like he's getting himself ready to leave.

"You stay here, understand? Have your gun out, go stand watch."

Everything in you goes rigid. Years of carefully anticipating the changing moods of your captors gives you a sixth sense, like rumbling thunder announcing a storm.

Danger.

"Why?"

"I'm gonna go check out the other buildings on foot," he explains in a quiet rasp. "See if the Raiders rumor was true."

"Okay, I'll come with-"

"No."

His voice is low and sharp, broaching no argument. You stare at him, gaze traveling between his endless eyes, blinking rapidly a moment.

"I need you here coverin' me from that window"

He points to the southern window you were posted at last time. You nod at first before something stops you. You're not good with a gun, not yet. Especially at far distances. And Joel knows it.

You don't mention this fact. Joel knows better than anyone that your shooting skills leave much to be desired. This is busy work.

"But what if something happens to you?"

Joel's eyes sweep your face.

"You're gonna hide." Joel starts for the bottom of the stairs, hand on the dusty railing. "Come with me."

You follow him quietly, both sets of boots pounding the old wood steps as he leads you to one of the smaller rooms you don't often visit.

It's cramped with peeling wallpaper and extra lumber and nails. It must be the storage room for such things. You notice the cord hanging from the center of the ceiling.

Joel reaches up and grabs hold of it, tugging until it opens the hatch that lets down a wooden ladder. It's like the attic from your house when you were a kid.

"Reinforced it after the window last week so I know it's sturdy," Joel informs you, dragging a thumb along the ladders edge. "You hear anything that sounds like yelling or guns n' you climb up this ladder and use the rope to pull it up after you."

You tell yourself to be calm. That this won't happen. That Joel is an excellent shot. But you've seen too much in this world to live in that fantasy.

"What if they find it?"

"You keep quiet and blow their fucking head off when they climb up. It's your best option.... Your only option."

"Why wouldn't I go to the horses? Escape that way?"

"If I'm dead, trust me you won't be able to outrun ‘em. Your best bet is to lay low until a search party comes the next day."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna leave this pulled down.”

Then he's going downstairs again, making sure you know exactly where to stand at the window so that you're covered by the majority of the shutters' frame. You nod, listening intently as you gaze at him. The thick chord of his neck, the way his shoulders make him look formidable.

Is this the last time you'll ever see Joel Miller alive?

You don't like that sensation that accompanies such a concept. Ellie would be without a father. The girl has already been through enough.

"But nothing will happen, right?"

Joel pauses, dark eyes scanning your face. He must see something in it because his voice holds no malice.

"Nothing bad will happen."

You don't believe him. You don't like the way his eyes dart over your face, like he's trying to look for something.

"Do you understand everything I've told you?"

You nod.

"If you hear a gunshot you climb up into that attic."

"But-"

"Say it," Joel commands, the patience is slowly ebbing from his voice.

"Okay."

"You'll do what I say?"

"Yes. If I hear a gunshot or a scream I'll go up to the attic. I'll be quiet and if I have to I'll shoot them when they come up the ladder. Otherwise I wait for the search party."

"Good girl."

He says it brusquely as he brushes past you and down the stairs. You don't have time to ask him anything else because he's already at the front door.

He casts one look at you over his shoulder, confusing you with his stare before the door shuts behind him.

And now you’re alone in this crumbling building. A sitting duck if Joel is captured or worse, killed.

You wanted to stay on patrols. You wanted this you fucking fool.

You ready yourself at the window, watching as the tall figure of Joel makes his way through the snow. His curls float around his head in the wind and you feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of them splattered with his blood.

You watch the surrounding area for any movement and for once you think this is what you need to be doing. This is what you're good at. This is what you trained for in all those years entering abandoned buildings and scouring old barns for The Group.

You can keep Joel safe.

There is no movement aside from his tall frame, and yet you still keep your gun raised, cocked and ready should you need it to be used. The snow makes it difficult though. Flakes are getting heavy and puffy, making it hard, but not impossible, to track Joel.

You watch his long muscled legs work their way across the terrain, gun raised, body poised for attack. You marvel at how even from where you watch him high above he still gives a feeling of protector, of big. Of safe.

Soon enough Joel's frame moves behind the pharmacy, out of your eye line and you exhale slowly.

He didn't say where he was going or for how long. An easy oversight, but in moments like this it feels unforgivable.

Ten minutes go by.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

As you watch out the window with your gun poised you can't help but marvel at how quickly snow is blanketing the ground. Joel's tracks in the snow have long been covered up.

When lightning steals across the sky and thunder booms loudly you feel it in your bones.

Thundersnow.

You’d heard some of the Wyoming long timers around town mention it at the Bison a few weeks back, but you’ve never actually witnessed it yourself. It’s surreal to see the snow drifting heavily as lightning cracks again.

The wind is picked up as well, whipping around the nearby trees. And yet you stand there like a statue, your gun aimed. It's only when you hear the distant whinny of one of the horses that you feel your heart leap to your throat.

Chestnut. Midnight.

In this weather they'll be suffering. Maybe even killed. You'd been so distracted by keeping vigilant over Joel that you hadn't even cast a second thought to them. Your body instinctively steps back from the window, eyes scanning over your shoulder.

He told you not to move.

But he didn't know it was going to be a blizzard like this.

You wrap the scarf around your neck and lower half of your face, stumbling out the door with your gun in front of you. You’ll be fast. You’ll bring the horses in and be back to the window before Joel ever realizes.

You sink into the snow easily; it comes just above your mid-calf over your boots. And it doesn't show signs of stopping any soon. It's so high that it immediately begins to seep into your boots, wetting your socks.

You feel as if you're waiting through quicksand. But it doesn't stop you and your dogged pursuit to reach the two animals huddled together under the tree. They shake aggressively, trying to avoid the falling flakes.

Snow blankets the two along their back and their manes. You watch Midnight give a particularly aggressive jerk of his head only to have more flakes accumulate from the swollen sky above. They morph into icy rain pelting down the back of your neck, your cheeks and your shoulders.

The horses are pulling at their reins and rearing up on their back legs as you approach.

"It's okay," you try to soothe, likely unheard over the storm. You reach your hand towards Chestnut’s bridle but he rears back at the clap of lightning that hits the sky at the same time.

“Chestnut it’s me! Calm down boy!”

You nearly scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You spin, aiming your gun shakily in front of you.

"S'me," the figure informs you. He pulls down his dark scarf and Joel's irritated expression is revealed.

"You scared me."

He doesn't answer this, simply grabs Midnight by his bridle and gives a sharp click of his tongue. Midnight struggles at first, but ultimately relents, trailing after Joel like an obedient child.

You quickly untie the slippery reigns from around the tree, attempting to tug at a very frightened Chestnut along. He comes down from his hind legs but his eyes are spooked. You slip in the wet snow, falling to your knees and hissing in pain. You grit your teeth, standing and attempting to pull Chestnut again.

"S'okay," you soothe, pulling him gently. He fights you, head twisting and the lightning cracks the sky. "Chestnut - C'mon-"

A sharp clap of thunder has him trying to pull from your grasp. You cry out as the reign rasps brutally around your knuckles.

"Chestnut! Stop!" You shout, panicking as the horse continues to jerk away from you.

Joel is back, his boots kicking against the deep snow. You feel him brush against your shoulder, large hand covering yours.

"Give 'em here," he grunts, taking the reins from you and tugging forcefully. "C'mon, C'mon, get goin'."

Chestnut whinnies terrified and you back up as his hooves shoot out anxiously. Joel grunts again before his fist jerks the reign brutally.

"Enough!"

Chestnut responds to this, eyes going to Joel and cowering. You watch in amazement as Chestnut bows his head, following after Joel with no more hesitation or defiance.

The three of you head into the outpost building, dripping with wet snow as you enter. Midnight is in the main room staggering at the side. Joel shifts his hand and urges Chestnut to follow, closing the door behind you as you enter.

"Sometimes you gotta be rough to get ‘em to listen," Joel explains, handing the reins off to you. "S'the only way to keep ‘em safe."

You don't know that you agree with that assessment. You unhook the reigns from Chestnut before pressing a soft kiss to his twitching muzzle. You whisper soothing words, waiting for your dear horse to stop his shaking.

"We'll leave ‘em in here for tonight," Joel says to them before looking over at you. You’re shivering, eyes wide. You must look a fright as you cast a wide-eyed look around the room.

“The door is locked right?”

“’Course.”

You both breathe heavily a moment, your eyes on his red cheeks.

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothin'," Joel informs you, shaking the flakes off his shoulder angrily. "Even if there was someone there's no fucking way to see 'em in this mess."

You're still shivering as you nod at him, following him up the windy creaking steps to the large former Library. Joel disappears into the logbook room and appears with a plastic box matches. You stand shivering and watching him kneeling in front of the hearth, using his pocket knife to make kindling and before long a fire begins.

"S'only good thing about this weather," Joel mutters to the hearth. "No one'll see the smoke."

His broad back ripples as he shoulders of his soaked jacket. It lands onto the wood floor with a plop. You watch as he kneels there, urging the flames to lick up into the kindling, blowing gently to get it to catch. You’re hypnotized at his acumen for this, as if he were meant to live out on the land. He loads the dry lumber over the now crackling flame before letting out a tired sigh.

"I told you not to leave."

You swallow, needing him to know that it wasn't insolence or even defiance that made you leave.

"I know, but the horses-"

Joel isn't listening to you; he's loading more wood into the hearth shaking his head in poorly concealed frustration.

"You don't fuckin' listen to me."

"I do so," you insist to the back of his head. "I just didn't today because there was something more important."

He stands, knees cracking and fixes you with a stern look. Just like that it's back to the old dynamic. Him like a dark black blanket over your body. Weighting you down with his effortless dominance

"I had it handled."

"How could I know that? I didn't see you."

"Patrol partners need to trust one another. That's why this ain't workin'."

At his words something clicks in your brain and the answer to your earlier question is so fucking obvious you’re embarrassed you didn’t put two and two together earlier.

"It was you who told Tommy to take me off patrols, wasn't it?"

Joel is silent, jaw set, left thumb and forefinger pressing together so tightly the tips go white.

"You had no fucking right to do that." You sniffle angrily, wrapping your damp jacket around your shoulders. "You go on about trust and you're the one going behind my back trying to get me kicked off."

"You shouldn't be out here," Joel insists. He sucks at his teeth.

"You don't get to say what I do."

"You're here ain't you? Doesn't matter what I say."

"You're such a-"

Joel's eyes flash and his hand is held between you, almost like you're a wild animal he's trying to hold at bay. But you think it’s the opposite.

"Don't," Joel warns voice barely above a whisper. "Don't start that."

Something in his voice terrifies you as much as it enrages you. So when hot tears prick the back of your eyes you're not sure which is the cause.

"Do you just hate me that much, Joel?"

You despise how small your voice sounds. Joel huffs a sigh, eyes closing briefly.

"S'not about that."

"What is it then?"

He just shakes his head and strides away from you towards the log room. You follow at his heels like a needy puppy. You push your soaked hair from your eyes, feeling your wet clothing weighting you down as you pursue him.

"Joel."

He ignores you, long legs carrying him quicker, boots scraping the floor.

"Why don't you want me on patrols?"

He begins to pull down one of the boxes from the shelving ignoring you.

"Answer me, please.”

It's not until you reach out a hand and grab his shoulder that he spins abruptly as if you've burnt him. He doesn't touch you; he just shakes off your hand and fixes you with a level stare that has you stepping back. Your feet slip in your boots and you realize you must look a sight, soaked to the skin, eyes red and chin wobbling.

Joel tilts his neck down, making sure to hold your gaze with his own.

"After all that shit you went through with those people? Why the fuck woul-"

He stops himself, the next word bit back, his eyes on the ground. The silence expands as understanding blooms in your face. You feel your jaw crack, eyes narrowing.

"You spied on me when I was talking to Ellie."

"S'a house, not a fucking football field," Joel sneers. "Sound carries."

Before you can say anything more you shiver. Despite the warmth of the fire in the next room you feel the chill of the damp creeping into your bones. Joel observes this and with a head tilt encourages you to follow him into the storage room.

You find yourself too exhausted to badger him further about patrols. Nothing will change in the next twenty four hours. So you follow in close pursuit, watching as he goes to one of the shelves and pulls out a duffel bag. Inside are two blankets, a few bottles of water and some rations.

"Strip and put this on," Joel says pulling out and then shoving a blanket at you. You take it into your arms gratefully before belatedly hearing what he told you.

Strip?

"Unless you feel like catching a cold. Be my guest," Joel adds when you hesitate. He takes the duffel and heads into another room, slamming the door behind him.

You go into the bathroom, the door creaking shut.

You're completely soaked from head to toe. It feels like you've had a freezing bath. And yet you hesitate a full minute before you realize that if you keep these clothes on there's a very good chance you're going to get seriously ill. And while Jackson City had a lot of amenities. antibiotics are always in short supply.

You strip hurriedly, your fingers shaking with cold. Your hair is squeezed and excess water circles the old sink. The clothing is squeezed as well as you try to wring out as much of the damp as possible.

You think about keeping your panties on because the thought of being completely bare under the blanket around Joel is far too daunting. But then the option of freezing in soaking under things doesn't seem like a better option.

The blanket is warm and when wrapped around you shoulders it hits you mid-calf. If you tuck it between your legs is almost like wearing a toga. You do, wrapping it so that only your arms and bottom of your legs poke out. You have the passing wonder if this is one of the blankets Jennifer made during her times in textiles.

You bring your clothes out with you, padding over barefoot to the large fireplace Joel has already begun stoking. He wears the blanket similar to you, tucked tightly around his broad frame. But one arm is out, the muscles glinting in the warmth of the fire’s glow.

"We don't normally do this," Joel explains, always in teacher mode. "Don't wanna attract attention. But desperate times n' all that."

You hang your clothes over a chair from the supply room and drag it towards the fireplace as Joel's dark eyes dart to see what you're up to.

"I was gonna put ‘em by the fire to dry," you explain. "You want me to wring yours out too?"

"Nah, I'll do mine," Joel replies. There's no snark left, his attention is fixed on the fire that's building there. You’re both just too tired to be prickly with one another.

A quick glance out the window confirms that the snow is still falling. So you're stuck for at least a couple more hours.

Great.

"Fuck that feels good," you say dropping to your knees and holding your palms to the fire. Joel's eyes swim over you before he fixes them on the roaring flames. His eyes are so dark they showcase the bright embers when you glance at them.

Everything is cold and damp. Your feet are numb from the snow and you hiss when the circulation begins in them again. Joel goes to wring out his clothes, bringing them back with another chair and propping it beside yours.

Joel drags the couch close to the fireplace, setting it down with a groan as his knees creak before collapsing onto it with a grunt. It looks more comfortable than kneeling on the floor and so you join him.

You knee brushes his as you take your seat, the fabric of the quilts rasping against one another. You try not to be offended when Joel jerks his knee away from you.

You get it. He doesn't like you. Can't stand to be around you if there's not another person as a buffer. But does he have to be so immature about it? You have a moment of concern when you think of your last buffer, Ellie.

"Will Ellie be okay tonight?"

"Yeah, Tommy'll make sure she is until I get back."

"How does he know when you'll be back?"

"He doesn't." Joel stokes the fire absently with a nearby stick. "When we don't come back at our usual time they'll usually give it a few hours and then come looking for us."

"Usually?"

"With a storm like this? They won't make it far. They'll figure we hit the same and're hunkered down somewhere. If we aren't back by tomorrow afternoon and the snow is clear then they'll send a group out. S'protocol."

"Oh."

The two of you lapse into quiet contemplation as the crackling fire sounds.

The house feels so big and with the sun going down it feels almost frightening. You’ve never been in this place in the dark. You don’t like how open the room is, how many shadows and walls exist. You miss your little home with its plain walls and minimal walls. You fantasize about how a bath would feel so luxurious at this moment.

You sniffle again, burying your face into the blanket a moment to warm it. The fire is definitely helping, but you wish it was bigger and the room less drafty.

Joel isn’t saying anything but he’s not scowling like he usually is when you glance over at him.

"Is Ellie doing any more baking?"

"Nope. Think she's more partial to just eatin'."

“Sounds like her,” you smile before pausing and adding: “Your pastries were good.”

Joel hums a response and emboldened by his openness you continue.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“I don’t. Just followed the recipe you had on the counter.”

“Oh.”

Joel doesn't try to extend the conversation so you fall silent again as you go back to the floor and move closer to the fire. The flames warm your cheeks and your front. A cool drop of water runs down your spine under the blanket and you shudder.

You kneel a bit closer to the fire and gingerly move your hair over one shoulder, trying to dry it the best you can. As you do you feel the blanket slip down over your back, exposing your neck down to your shoulder blade. You hurriedly pull your quilt back up over your shoulder, heart pounding.

"M'gonna check the horses."

Joel lurches up from the couch, not waiting for your reply. You don't watch him go, finding you don't care to see his sullen expression. You're not sure which is worse, the ‘rude but communicative when needed’ Joel or this strange withdrawn creature that's replaced him.

Joel is gone for a little while. Much longer than it takes to check on the horses, but you don't mind. You like having a bit of quiet to fall under the spell of the flickering flames.

You wonder what Jennifer would think of this, being stuck in an isolated space with Joel overnight.

She'd be in heaven.

You smirk at this, knowing she'd take full advantage of the situation. Probably flutter her lashes and let the blanket slip open ever so slightly, giving Joel a flash of breast before faking modesty. It would work, you're certain of it. Joel strikes you as someone who likes the soft curves of a woman, perhaps because of what Maria said.

You can't wait to return home tomorrow. To have coffee in Jennifer's cheery house and update her on any and all Joel lore you uncover. It won't be much judging by his conversational skills so far. But you will be able to report that Joel Miller has very nice calves. You saw a flash of them when he got up.

Jennifer will have a field day with that information; she probably won't leave her bed for a week.

Joel returns eventually, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He comes back with the remaining two blankets from the duffel, throwing one over your legs. He sits on the far end of the couch, warming himself with the second blanket over himself. You tuck yourself on the other end, the two of you quiet as you watch the fire.

You think about ancient times when all creatures had was fire and an open sky to pass the time. When the air was free of chemicals and the landscape open instead of crowded with infrastructure. You wonder what they would make of your world now. Would they secretly cheer that nature has slowly begun to reclaim its earth?

Time passes and soon enough the sky through the window grows dark and the air grows colder. You start to shiver slightly and Joel adds more lumber to the fire. You think back to last week when you’d all had those brownies to share. You think back to this morning with your hot chocolate.

"Wish I didn't drink all my hot chocolate," you sniff with a sigh as you burrow back on the creaking sofa. You're not saying it for pity, more just to fill the quiet.

"We have some coffee left," Joel offers.

You’re surprised when he moves to grab the Thermos from his bag next to him beside the couch. You can't help but notice how muscular his bare arms are when he does. You take it from him, eyes on his large hand.

"Thanks," you reply, taking a small sip.

Even though you don’t drink coffee often you don't want to waste it. It warms you and the jerky he hands you along with it moments later makes the encroaching hunger fade. Joel takes the Thermos back from you, also taking a ginger sip before twisting on the cap and sighing.

"I miss real coffee."

Joel never talks about the past, not really. Never about his life before this. You've had to stitch his back-story together with patches of information gathered over your time and interactions with Ellie.

So this little glimmer, this tiny piece of him sticks out to you. It rattles in your bones and burrows deep in your brain.

I miss real coffee.

"The stuff they make in the dining hall doesn't do it for you?" You prompt, wanting him to share more, finding that you're desperate for a little more Joel.

"That's not real coffee," Joel scoffs. "That's instant shit. It all is."

You've never had real coffee either so you don't know if the derision is warranted. You’d always been a tea drinker yourself. You watch him slurp back the contents of his thermos while your mind is a million miles away.

Coffee. Joel likes coffee. Real Coffee. Joel drinking coffee. Real Coffee.

Did Joel go to cafes? Did he go to Starbucks and sit reading? Did he drink coffee with silly names and lots of whipped cream? Did women blush and stammer when a young Joel slid by them to grab cream or sugar?

You imagine a world before this one. One where you could have met in a cafe. Bumped into each other as you both reached for a cup. Classic meet cute. Then you remember this is Joel Miller. He would have scowled at you and told you to get your own coffee. The thought amuses you.

Soon enough the combination of the warm drink and the stress of the day gets to you. Your eyes begin to drift shut, your head slowly falling forward before you catch yourself. Joel must notice this because he clears his throat.

“We’ll take turns on watch,” Joel informs you. “You sleep first, I’ll get next. We’ll do four hour switches.”

“Okay.”

You don’t ask why you need to be on watch during a storm. You trust that Joel is right about it. Joel may be an asshole, but he’s an educated one. And so far during everything he has not let you down. He has been rough, he has been unpleasant but he has been there through it all. Joel Miller will protect you. You don’t know why tonight is when you decide this is true, but you do.

You burrow into your blankets, thankful for them. It’s not exactly warm, but it does the job. You still feel a little strange cuddled there completely bare underneath. It makes it hard to get comfortable and fall asleep but you eventually do.

You wake up what feels like no time at all later. Your hair is partially dried and the fire is still going steadily. You blink down your body to see you’ve stretched out on the couch, your feel practically against Joel’s thigh.

He’s staring into the fire, a flask in one hand and the other over your ankle buried under the blanket. You don’t think he even realizes that your foot is there. When you start to shift his hand moves to his thigh, his dark eyes blinking over at you.

“Not been four hours.”

“Tell that to my body,” you say wryly. “Any more coffee left?”

“Nah.”

Between the blankets and the fire you shouldn’t feel this cold, should you? You glance over when you see Joel handing the silver flask out towards you.

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey. It’ll make you feel warm.”

“Where’d you find that?”

“My bag.”

You smile gently before you shift back into a seated position on the couch, wincing at the muscle pull in your neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle. You take the flask with a polite nod of your head.

“Thank you.”

You take the flask from him before bringing it gingerly to your lips. You take a deep pull from it, wincing when the astringent alcohol hits your tongue.

"Strong," you mumble.

But you’re delighted when you feel it scorch a warm trail from your throat all the way to your belly. You take another sip before screwing the top back on. Joel watches this, his features relaxed. You wonder if he isn’t a little drunk.

"How'd he get you outta there?"

His voice is a husky rasp, his mouth barely moving as he murmurs this at you. You take a moment to try and process what he’s asking you.

"Huh? Who?"

"Chi guy,” Joel says taking the flask back from you and taking a long pull. “You were in a group ‘a Raiders. Something tells me they wouldn't just let their best shot and their trusty bait walk off into the sunset together."

He hands the flask back to you and you take another sip. Minutes tick by and you’re not answering his first question, so you suppose Joel decides on another angle.

"The two of you fuck?"

You turn your head to face Joel, surprised. He’s got a strange expression on his face, his lids heavy, waiting for you response.

"Yeah.”

Joel takes the flask from you, holding it there in his palms, not drinking, just staring into the flames. "You like it?"

You shoot daggers at him. "Yes."

You're not lying. You did enjoy your times with Chiyo. While there wasn't a romantic aspect, you definitely felt taken care of during those times together.

Joel nods, lower lip protruding as he takes another pull of the flask. You’re thankful to him for bringing it

“How much did you hear of what I told Ellie?”

“Enough.” Joel swallows thickly.

The alcohol warms your veins and your belly and you start to relax.

"Did that Group.... Try things with you?"

It takes you a minute to parse what he's not saying out loud.

"No," you shake your head. "The women in the group were territorial that way. Besides they didn't see me like a person. More like a dog. They never spoke to me unless it was to order me around or feed me whatever leftovers they had. Kept me chained up at night so I couldn't escape."

Joel’s eye tics just a fraction as he listens to you. And for some reason whether it be the intimacy of sitting there with him before a fire or the whiskey working through your veins, you decide to share with Joel.

You think because he’s one of the few people who won’t pity you for it.

“So The Group… that’s what I called them. I never really learned their names. There were three men, two women. They had me with then for a few years. I was obedient for the most part because by the end I didn’t care if I lived or died. I did what they said and they weren’t kind to me, but they didn’t make me suffer as much as they could’ve. They took me to the bathroom, let me shower when there was time. But they never spoke to me directly unless it was to order me around.”

Joel is completely still, and the only movement comes from the shadow of the flames reflected in his dark eyes. You find you can’t look into them, instead finding the space between your bodies on the couch to do the job just fine. You tell the little patch of green your story.

"Wherever we stayed we always slept together in the same room. They said it was for safety but I know they just did it to keep an eye on everyone. The only one who was chained up at night was me. I was the bait after all. Chiyo was chained up for the first few months but he was a likeable guy. He earned their trust through action. He was a good shot and they liked having him around.”

You swallow.

“Well, in the last place the toilets didn’t work so there was an outhouse out back so Chiyo told me that he had a plan. He suggested they celebrate the hunting of the day with a little booze they had stashed in the supply bags. They were all for it. They chained me up and I just sat there watching them get drunker and drunker. After a few hours most of ‘em were passed out.”

You shift under the blankets, finding that you’re not really feeling the cold at all.

“So I did what Chi had told me. I told them I had to go to the bathroom. Chi was pretending to be drunk and he said that he would take me to the outhouse to make sure I didn’t get up to anything. They were so drunk I don’t even know if they heard us leave after he unchained me.”

Joel is still silent, still attentively listening. You wonder if this is all boring to him. If he’s seen much worse.

“So we go to the outhouse. Chi grabs the gun, I follow him back but he makes me stay outside the bedroom. He tells me that I shouldn’t see what’s going to happen. I wanted to help, but he insisted and I was in no position to fight him on it.”

You close your eyes, replaying the moment.

“So I stood there outside the door and I listened to him shoot each one in the head. Some of them were already passed out. One tried to fight back but like I said, Chi was a great shot. They didn’t stand a chance. Then we packed up and we left.”

You can still see it. The flash of blood and brain on the walls as Chi exited. The slumped over bodies as he tugged your wrist, urging you to follow him.

When your eyes open again Joel is offering you the flask. You take it gratefully, taking a ginger sip before handing it back. You don’t know what else to say, even as Joel rests his heavy gaze on you.

"You think less of him for it?"

"For killing the people that wouldn't even flinch if they had to kill me?" You scoff. "Not at all. I wish he'd hung them by their feet over a pit of ravenous clickers. Had them piss themselves in fear. I wish they could have seen their loved ones bit. I wish they could have watched as everything was taken from them and then I wish he’d slit their throats so they’d take longer to die."

You know that Joel is staring at you and it's likely because he's never seen this side to you. This ugly, twisted, hateful side that you try to keep hidden. This side that you soften under baked goods and paper flowers.

"Chi was right though about not letting me help him kill them," you confess quietly. “I’m not built for it.”

Joel is quiet, his body so still you think he’s gone rigid.

"He got bit not long before I got to the next QZ,” you explain. “And I couldn’t let him turn into one of those things.”

If Joel is surprised by your admission about Chiyo's death he makes no mention of it, his features remain stoic, his dark eyes moving back to the fire. You wish you could make sense of his expression, but you can’t, you don’t know him well enough.

“I still have nightmares about killing him and I don’t think those’ll ever go away,” you murmur to the flames. “You know, I remember thinking the doe we killed on that first patrol had eyes just like him. That same glossy dark color. Looked the same when he was dead, just staring up at me."

You don't speak much after that.

Not until a short while later when Joel’s flask is re-opened and the two of you take long pulls. The alcohol loosens you both up, you can tell in the lazy way you both lean into the couch.

The blankets and the couch and the fire lend you a feeling of comfort, of warmth and you think that perhaps this isn’t as bad as the situation could have been. That this Joel sitting by you feels different.

“If I'd known all that stuff, I never would've.... Joel trails off, still looking into the fire. "I'd have done things different when we started patrols."

"It shouldn't take someone's traumatic history for you to treat them decently," you say, feeling emboldened by the drink. You wait for his biting reply.

"You're right."

You're surprised by his easy agreement but you don't let it show. You find it hard to let a lot of how you feel show with Joel. Something in you always holds you back.

"I think you were just so... skittery," Joel offers to the flames. "Made me nervous."

"Oh."

As you look at him from the corner of your eyes in shock you think that when he's not scowling he's quite handsome. Strong masculine features, full lips. You can understand why Jennifer is attracted to him.

At that errant thought your mind goes to your friend. Jennifer. This is the perfect opportunity to talk her up like she's done with you to Luke.

"You know Jennifer was sa-"

"What’s with you and bringin’ up that Jennifer girl?" Joel cuts in, shooting you a glare. His old irritated expression is back, along with his tensed shoulders.

"I...uh..." You weren't expecting such vitriol. He crosses his arms in front of his chest like a petulant schoolchild.

"I've talked with her a handful of times," Joel says with a huff. "And I don't like how she stares at me."

"Except I've seen how you stare at her," you shoot back with a frown, defensive of your friend. "And flirt."

"Flirt?" Joel looks beside himself. "When s'at?"

"Agreeing to drinks at the Bison after patrols last time, calling her Jenny," you list these things off with ease. "Or how about staring at her during breakfast just this morning? She caught you doing it, you know."

Joel opens his mouth to say something but then slams it shut. He goes quiet and you know he must be remembering when he did all those things. You don't fault him, Jennifer is a beautiful woman.

"It's fine if you like her Joel, she likes you and-"

"I don't like her. I barely fuckin’ know her." He takes a swig from his flask. "I wish you'd stop bringin' her up."

"Okay. Sorry, I will."

“Good.”

Joel must be shy when it comes to crushes and you don't want to embarrass him further.

To you Joel is a forever enigma, someone who shares so little of himself. You feel almost owed information on his romantic past, as if because he heard your story you deserve his. You don’t know if that’s a fair assessment.

“I’ve never heard you talk about a woman. Was there anyone before Jackson City?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t expand on this and you sigh heavily through your nose. You’re irritated that you’ve shared so much with someone who obviously doesn’t care to do the same with you. Perhaps you misjudged hi-

"There was a woman back in the Boston QZ," Joel's says in a voice that goes soft. "Tess. We smuggled together."

"What was she like?"

He shifts in his seat, the blanket tightening. He looks both irritated and impossibly wounded. He doesn’t look at you directly, more the wall over your shoulder when he addresses you.

"She was always in charge," he tells you in a voice that sounds detached from him. "I was the muscle."

This surprises you. Joel seems such a natural leader, such a confident force. They can't imagine him cowing to anyone, especially a woman.

"Did you like that?"

"I liked hurtin' people at times, yeah."

You don't have to ask him why he liked hurting people because the answer is clear. It was better to cause pain in others when it helped distract from the gaping wound within Joel Miller in the shape of his lost daughter.

"No, I meant did you like Tess being in charge?"

"Sometimes," Joel relents. "Was nice not to have to plan and organize and everythin'. Could just exist for a bit."

You imagine Joel back in the QZ with a beautiful woman who warmed his bed and you feel a strange twisting in your stomach. She was tough. The opposite of you, you think. You're soft. Too soft for this world at times.

"Did you guys..." You trail off, feeling strangely insecure. You shouldn't after everything he asked about you, and yet it still feels like a boundary crossed.

He sneers at you.

"I'm a man ain’t I?"

You don't say anything in response to that.

Your assessment had been correct – Joel liked strong, tough women. Women like Jennifer who could be feminine but hard when they needed to be. Women like this Tess who you just know was beautiful.

The fire crackles in front of you, leaving you drowsy and almost hypnotized. It makes you momentarily forget that you and Joel aren't people who usually talk to one another.

“Were you in love with her?”

You want to know about the woman who caught his attention, who he talks of with such reverence.

"I tried," Joel finally answers, but you can see the weight of it behind his eyes. "Couldn't give it to her in the way she wanted though."

You wish you knew what Tess looked like, what she sounded like when she laughed and if she was a good shot. You wonder if they teased each other affectionately or if it was all seriousness and hard fucking. You wonder if he fucked her mouth like did yours. You wonder if they slept together, limbs entwined, breathing even.

You feel a stab of jealousy that he had that. At least twice if the sporadic history you’ve learned of him is correct. Two women who held him, two women who loved him. A man as recalcitrant as him found two separate women to care for him. And you? What do you have?

"I don't need love," you confess to him him with a labored sigh, eyes drifting half shut sleepily. "Wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. I just wanna be someone's only."

"Someone’s only?"

"Like the only one they see," you explain with a yawn. "The only one they take to bed and kiss and all that stuff."

Joel makes a soft humming sound as he digests what you're saying.

You snuggle further into the blankets, watching the fire in the hearth and wondering what it must have been like to be in this big library back when it held hundreds of books. You wonder what sort of people sat in the very room you and Joel reside in. Did they study, their eyes going blurry the longer they stared at the pages? Did they sneak off to kiss in the stacks, nervous fumbling fearful of being caught?

Libraries have their own sort of life within them after all, it’s easy to imagine the dusty floorboards and the peeling wallpaper restored to its former glory. Can almost hear the soft ‘shhhh’ of an eagle-eared librarian. The world before seems romantic and nostalgic in moments like this.

If only you’d enjoyed it to the fullest.

Your mind drifts to the embers, red hot and pulsing. It reminds you of blood pooling in a gaping mouth.

"Joel, do you think the infected are still conscious?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"Huh?"

"I mean, like, do you think that they're trapped in their bodies still knowing what's happening but unable to stop it?" You wince at the thought. "Not able to control their bodies but still self aware?"

"I sure fucking hope not," Joel says quietly.

"Me too. Jennifer said that th-“

You stop yourself with a sharp wince, but Joel has heard you and he rolls his eyes.

“Why're you always bringing up that Jennifer girl?"

You shrug, embarrassed. "I guess because she's like, my only friend."

"Ellie'll be devastated to hear that."

Warmth floods you at that. Ellie, your sweet little pal. The girl with the bite that puts her trust in you of all people.

"Yeah I guess she is too," you say with a rueful grin. "She must be pretty desperate to have a grown woman as a friend."

"She's discerning," Joel mutters. "She doesn't waste her time on idiots."

You think that this is as close to a compliment that Joel's ever given you outside of sexual interactions. It gives you pause.

"I like how honest Ellie is," you offer. "It can be brutal at times, but I like that I know where I stand with her."

Joel smiles at that, a tight-lipped thing he's never offered you before. It makes you give one in return before your attention goes back to your hands in your lap.

“She sure thinks the world of you,” you offer.

“Yeah well,” Joel shrugs, embarrassed. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“Did she know Tess?”

Joel goes quiet, staring back at the fire. You worry that you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s got a hurt look in his eyes. The kind that makes the dark brown of it glossy and hard.

“Yeah. She knew Tess.”

And something in the finality of his hushed tone makes you cease in that line of questioning. His eyes sweep to you as if belatedly realizing he's shared a vulnerable part of himself and like a feral cat that hisses when they realize they've let their guard down, Joel straightens.

"I've had too much of this," he says handing you the flask. You're surprised when you can feel it's still half full. "You should go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when your shift starts.”

"Okay."

You put the flask on the floor, looking into the fire before shifting onto your side, curling within the blankets. You gaze down over your hip to see Joel staring into the space in front of him and you realize that this is perhaps one of the only times you’ll be able to really talk to Joel.

And there’s a big, big question that’s been lingering in your subconscious for weeks now. One that you could never have brought up if not for this sense of camaraderie.

“Joel, why did you stop wanting to do stuff on patrols?”

You don’t know why but you need to ask him this. You’ve gone through the scenarios countless times trying to understand. The thought that you did something wrong, the thought that perhaps Joel got bored of you is what you’ve landed on, but you want to hear it.

He shifts again on the couch, his back cracking. He licks at his lower lip, hands bracing against his thighs. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the topic, but you can’t find it in yourself to let it go.

“Did I do something wrong that day?”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “Just thought it was a distraction.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really believe that. But you suppose it could be true. You are here to do a job after all, not suck him off. You exhale slowly through your nose as you think back to that final day, his thumb in your mouth and his eyes on your face. You think of how it felt to have your mouth full of him and that blissful sensation of quiet that came along with it.

“I miss doing it.”

It comes from you in a breathy sigh, a quiet thing said to the air in front of you. But its loud in the silent room and it makes your eyes pop open.

Did Joel hear that?

You close your eyes then, your cheeks heating because there's a hesitation, a silence. You cringe, feeling as though you've fucked this up this gentle alliance. Joel was so forthcoming with you and now he’s gone radio silent because you just said the stupidest thing possible.

You shake your head internally, bracing yourself for Joel’s mockery or derision.

There’s the feeling of the couch dipping and when you crack open your eyes Joel's muscular frame is moving towards you. The blanket has fallen to his hips, leaving his torso visible.

You sit up, suddenly intimidated by his broad frame and muscular stature. His eyes scan over your body hidden in the blankets. He takes in your braced pose, the way you’re almost wary of him as he moves over to you.

"Lay back.”

You look at his eyes reflecting the flames licking up the hearth. It's almost as hypnotic as his husky voice.

“What’re you-“

“I said lay back.”

His voice is stern but without its usual malice. He’s giving you an order and he’s expecting you to follow it. You remember the first day you met him.

I'm the one who gives orders. Not you.

You feel your pulse start to tick as the two of you lock eyes and its like everything in the world falls away. The whistle of the wind, the crackle of the fire, the thrum of your heart. Nothing is left save for your shallow breathing.

You tilt backwards, your arms securing your blanket tightly around your torso. You wonder if he’s going to fuck your mouth in this position. Or perhaps he’s just going to touch himself over you. Both thoughts have you pressing your thighs together tightly. You’re head is perched on the edge of the sofa arm, watching him.

Joel’s eyes dip to your waist and he confuses you when his long fingers slide to the blanket laying overtop you. He says nothing, just pushes the blanket up your waist, exposing you to him in the firelight. Goose bumps ripple over your flesh but not from the cold.

“Joel-“

His eyes never leave your face, but you feel his fingers brush over your bare thigh. The blanket toga you fashioned has come undone and you flinch as he moves his calloused hand over your skin, thumb grazing the crease between your thigh and hip. The air feels strangely heavy as Joel’s knuckles graze your slick entrance.

It feels so good.

Your hips jolt before you force them to still, your body supine before him. Joel tilts his head slightly, gazing at your exposed cunt with what almost looks like affection.

“She always this wet?"

The way he speaks is so vulgar but his tone is so soothing that it creates a strange dichotomy within your brain. It leaves you dumbstruck, able only to give a brief shake of your head in response.

Joel sweeps the tip of his tongue over his plush lower lip, wetting it.

"S'for me?"

You still can't answer; your throat feels sealed shut as he keeps his gaze fixed between your legs. But your silence and pink cheeks are their own kind of damning confession.

Joel says nothing more but there's a touch of amusement in his look that's not lost on you. It makes you tilt your face to the side, not wanting to show more of your hand.

Joel shifts, removing his hand from your body. You immediately miss the warmth, eyes snapping down the length of you to watch in quiet fascination as Joel shrugs off the blanket over his shoulders.

You swallow again, your own blanket raised to just below your eyes. You can't help but exhale softly at the sight of him.

Joel's body is a beautiful gold color. There are a few scars that curve along his flesh, a particularly jagged one along the right side under his ribs. He's broad and muscular and so masculine with his strong features and stronger body.

One of the blankets remains slung loosely around his middle, allowing you a brief vision of dark hair below his navel leading under the quilt before he curves forward. His wide hands come to slide up over your knees, gliding to your thighs and then back down again. He does this several times, his eyes watching the ascent of his touch as you pant softly.

His hands come to glide up your thighs again, thumbs coming to trace the soft inner skin there. You feel as his strong grip begins to urge your legs to part and in a panic your thighs slap together. You see the flash of his glittering eyes snap to your face.

"Open.”

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumbs tracing small circles on the inner skin of your thigh, not moving an inch from where he kneels half curled over you. His touch is setting of strange vibrations through your body, ones that make it hard to catch your breath.

“Open.”

He repeats it and the timbre of his voice is sweet and sticky like syrup. A coaxing thing that silently promises it’ll be worth it if you do. He waits, not moving an inch as you decide.

Finally after a moment’s deliberation you give a shuddering breath before your legs fall open on either side of him, exposing you in a completely new way as you hear him inhale slowly.

You feel like your entire body is on fire not only from embarrassment but from this overwhelming sizzling ache in your core. This strange desire that makes it impossible to think clearly. To remind you that you don’t really like Joel as a person. To remind you that Joel doesn’t enjoy your company.

But it doesn’t matter because Joel is moving to rest prone on the couch between your legs with a grunt. He props himself up on his elbows and goes to push the blanket over your hips higher but you tense. He must register this because his hands slide back, his mouth set in a firm line of patience.

One wide palm slips between your legs, gentle fingers grazing over your mound. The sensation is soothing, almost bordering on ticklish. You feel your body eventually relaxing, eyes drifting shut. Joel makes a quiet sound of what you think is approval.

You don't know how long this lasts for, but you soon find yourself boneless, lulled by Joel's shockingly delicate touch. Your arms which had been glued over your chest now relax, rising over your head over the arm of the couch.

You feel yourself drifting off, unsure of when Joel went from someone who terrified you to a man whose fingers are slowly dancing up the seam of your pussy. He feels so soft and gentle right now and you let him maneuver you however he wants. He must feel you relax in his grip because the soft drag of his fingers now slides between the seam of your sex.

Two thick fingers slowly spread the glossy lips of your pussy, brushing your straining clit in the process. Joel’s gaze is fixed there, almost as if he’s marveling at how wet you are. You shudder gently at his intense scrutiny, noting that Joel's eyes flick to yours when you do. You breathe shallowly, eyes wide and mouth parted.

Joel lowers his mouth to where his fingers still hold you open. With his dark eyes fixed on you, he gives a slow, languid lick of his flattened tongue over your clit. The sight and sensation causes you to immediately jolt, pleasure tearing through your middle.

Joel Miller’s mouth is between your legs.

You still can’t quite comprehend that this is happening to you. Goose bumps rise up all over your body, every sense quivering with arousal. Joel isn’t smirking, but it almost feels like he could be when you swallow thickly.

"He ever do this?” he rumbles. “Your friend?"

He says friend like others would say asshole.

"N-no," you say with a fluttering of your pulse. "Never had time."

"But there was time to suck his cock," Joel says with derision clear in his voice. “Time to ride him?”

You want to defend your old friend and point out the irony considering the past you and Joel share, but then his mouth is back there between your legs and all words leave you.

With his soulful eyes closing, Joel repeats the previous action with his tongue once, twice and then a third lingering time that has you grunting in the back of your throat, hips rolling against his mouth.

He pulls his mouth off you slightly and in the low firefight you see the web of saliva and slick that join his tongue to your cunt. It's lascivious and obscene and you feel as fresh arousal gathers there just at the sight.

You feel exposed, suddenly vulnerable with his mouth between your thighs. You go to close them but Joel's eyes snap open to scorch a blazing path up at you.

Obey.

Despite him saying nothing out loud, you swallow, nodding. He seems satisfied because he gives your clit a soft lave that makes you swallow a groan. You have a moment of confusion, wondering why he’s doing this all of a sudden.

"Joel I -"

"I like doin' this," he tells you almost frustrated at your sudden discomfort. "So just let me."

You watch as he slides his hands beneath the back of your legs, urging them to rise. You go limp, curious when he maneuvers your legs over his broad shoulders, hinging at the knee.

His mouth is level with your pussy now, more easily accessible and this seems to please him before Joel's lips begin to kiss slowly over pussy, making out with it in a way your mouth has never felt.

You have no desire for the pleasure to stop.

You feel his lips sponging along your mound before the fingers holding you open spread you further, allowing him to probe deeply with the thick muscle of his tongue, making the most deliciously vulgar wet sound as he does. His nose grazes your clit as he does this, fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit.

You nearly capitulate off the sofa at that sensation. The deep thrust of his tongue twisting within your sopping core as you huff out little whines while the plush pout of his lips working against the dripping between your legs.

He breathes heavily through his nose, not wanting to break the connection of his mouth on your cunt as he gazes at you. He sees the way your head tilts back, the way your thighs slightly turn inward. He holds your hips down, thumbs absently stroking over the skin there before coming to cradle the lips of your pussy, allowing him better access to your aching clit.

He groans at one point, a low, sinful thing accompanied by a wet kissing sound that has your nipples tightening almost painfully under the blanket. Your hips roll lazily under the sensation, whimpering slightly when his tongue comes to flick over your swollen clit time and time again.

When his eyes drift closed you feel your body tightening. You lift your hips instinctively and you almost believe that you can feel Joel smirk against your cunt. For some reason that’s what has a white hot pleasure shooting up your middle as you rush towards your release.

“Oh f-f-fuck-“

You suddenly tilt backwards, as Joel's hands grip your hips tightly, fingertips dimpling your flesh as his mouth continues it steady dance against your pussy.

“There it is,” Joel murmurs against your cunt as you begin to keen loudly.

Everything in your body tightens and your back arches. Your toes curl into the soft of the couch as Joel works his mouth continuously through your shuddering cry of pleasure. He allows your thighs to squeeze the side of his head as your hands grip uselessly at your sides.

Joel laps at the pooling essence between your thighs, groaning as he does it. Your heartbeat flutters at the sight, his eyes rolled back and his mouth working hurriedly over your sex, making obscene sucking noises. You can only whimper down at him, hips rolling lazily against his searching mouth.

And then all at once Joel’s hands slide beneath your bottom, grasping large handfuls of your ass, holding you firmly in place so that his tongue can probe deeper.

"Another," Joel commands, licking flat swipes along your cunt, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. Your thighs tremble and you give frantic little huffing cries at the sensation that seems to be building again.

"I-I cant-"

"You will," Joel tells you sharply, lips coming to circle your clit once more before sucking it into his mouth and you see fireworks behind your eyes. His words swim through your veins, much like they always do. Another. Another. Another.

He orders you obey.

He leads you follow.

You give his name out with a lusty cry and for the first time this evening you touch him. Your hands go to his thick curls and you clutch there desperately, needing to ground yourself, needing him as deep as possible, needing him.

He doesn’t shake you off and doesn’t demand you not touch him. If anything he seems to suck harder and you think you see his hips beginning to thrust against the couch. His arms banded over your waist hold you in place, his head shaking back and forth.

"Joel! I'm gonna... Gonna..."

"C'mon then," Joel urges between sloppy kisses to your cunt. "Fuckin’ do it."

Your hips pitch off the creaking sofa, rutting into Joel's mouth with abandon. You hear him groaning with approval and that sends your head tilting back as the pleasure rocks through you.

Joel gives a shudder, his lips trembling around your clit as you feel yourself coming down. He continues to suck gently, eyes closed. With trembling fingers you touch his cheek lightly, your body overwhelmed.

"S'enough," you tell him through gasps. "Can't... Can't do any more."

He nods and leans back slowly onto his knees, one hand on the back of the couch.

You go to tell him that you'll do the same for him. Your hand even reaches out towards him but it stops halfway when you see the wide damp spot at the front of his blanket.

He came.

When you tear your eyes to go to his face Joel is daring you to say something. His dark eyes are glittering in his face as he stares you down. His mouth is wet with your arousal.

But you can't ask: Joel did you just come while you were going down on me?

Even though you want to because the thought turns you on more than you can explain. That just your pleasure was enough for him to climax.

“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure of what to say in such a moment. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in amusement.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes are on his abdomen, the scar there in the firelight twisted and obvious. It’s fresher than the other ones that litter his body. You want to ask him how it happened, you want to ask him why he did this tonight, you want to ask him so many more questions but you feel sobered up and too intimidated to ask him.

When you don't say anything more Joel leans forward again, eyes stuck on you. Your legs are still there on his shoulders and you go to move them off.

"I can’t do anything more." You feel your eyelids growing heavy, like each one has a tiny weight at the corner pulling down. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep then," he tells you, rich baritone against your legs. You feel his lips grazing along your inner thighs, slow, gentle things, taking their time. “Don’t need to do anything but lay there.”

"What about you?"

"Not tired yet. ‘Sides it’s my watch."

You feel his mouth drifting over the seam of your thigh, breathing in your skin. His lips are petal soft and he’s doing that same light grazing that makes your eyes close before you slip into the warm and welcoming darkness of sleep.

///

You don't even remember falling asleep but judging by the quieting of the storm it's been a while. The fire is dim, but not out.

But that's not what has woken you.

It's the steadily building orgasm being coaxed out of you by the man still there between your thighs. You can't see him, but you feel his heavy mouth there. Has he just been there licking and sucking as you slept?

You make a croaking hum deep in your throat as your hips slowly begin to roll against his mouth. You can't see Joel's face in the semi darkness, but you just know he's looking at you.

You feel your climax building, pushing you to let out little whines. Joel's mouth takes you there, licking just hard enough to have your legs trembling. A husky order from somewhere in the darkened night.

"Go on then.”

You feel everything in you release at those three words. The delicious tension unwinding itself from your body as you come against his tongue.

"Good girl."

Only then does Joel remove your thighs from over his shoulders. He closes them gently like the pages of a cherished book before pulling your blanket back down over your body.

"Thank you," you croak out to him. It doesn't seem like enough but it must be because Joel gives a grunt. You feel his body lift from off the sofa. You want to see what he does next but you feel so relaxed and you're so tired.

Just so fucking tired.

///

You wake up too early the next morning, when the sky is still bleeding pink into the start of the day. You blink sleepily up at the window, confused that you’re so warm and cozy despite the fire being dead.

Belatedly you realize you’re sandwiched between the back of the couch and something warm and hard. The disorientation of sleep slowly seeps from you and you realize that you're snuggled up against Joel's back with your arm slung over his waist.

Memories of last night make your cheeks burn. Joel's mouth on you, the way he took his time. The way he came. Something about that fact makes your throat run dry.

His torso is bare and up so close to him you can see the small array of freckles along his tanned shoulders like a golden galaxy. He’s so broad, his body nearly falling off the edge of the couch as he sleeps on.

He's very still, his breathing slow and even. You peer up and see the threads of grey in his dark hair shining in the almost dead fire. You want to touch it, to see if it's as soft as it looks but you don’t dare.

His spine is under his taut flesh just inches from your mouth. You don't press your mouth to his skin but you can't help but inhale, shocked at how comforting the scent of leather and homemade soap is.

And while you should start the day and get as far away from Joel Miller as possible, there’s something about this moment that feels better than you can explain. It makes it so that your forehead presses against his spine and your front goes flush with his back. It makes you sigh softly as your eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls you back under.

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

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k-atsukibakugou · 2 days

Note

congratulations on your two year anniversary!! Your writing is so amazing and I look forward to more great posts in the future :) if I may, I’d like to request a cosmo w/bakugou! Thank you!!

hihihi thank u!!! i hope u enjoy this, i got a little carried away with it birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

“can i get a… um, cosmo?” your eyes are bleary, half-lidded, the menu nearly rubbing the tip of your nose with how close you held it, squinting to read the drink descriptions for five minutes (4 minutes and 47 seconds, he timed you) before giving up on figuring out what was in the cocktail. besides, the vodka was all that mattered.

closing the menu, you attempted twice to return it neatly to the box at the middle of the counter, quickly giving up and sitting it beside the container. bakugou hasn’t moved a muscle since you sat across the bar from him, instead, watching you closely; the way you’d nearly tripped over the chair before sitting in it, and now struggling with the menu. when your eyes finally meet his, yours are damn near crossed, a moment of you staring at him before you focus on his steely red eyes, a single blond eyebrow raised as he studies you.

“you want a cosmo?”

your head looks like it weighs a tonne when you nod, falling back and forth like your neck can’t handle the weight of it, your eyes struggling to refocus on his still frame. he moves too fast for you to watch him, pulling a clean glass from beneath the bar, scooping ice into the bottom,holding the gun over it to fill to the brim with water and adding a lime to the rim.

“how many have you had?” he’s gruff when he slides the drink across the counter to you, watching you hold the glass with both hands and struggle to catch the straw between your lips.

“how many altogether or at this bar?” you take a sip of the ice cold water, making no comment on the lack of alcohol as he leaned on his forearms on the counter, still watching the way you gulped down the water, holding in a smile at the way you giggle avoiding his question.

“where are your friends?” the bar is quiet for a friday night, with only one other person at the bar, busy flirting for free drinks with kirishima. every other patron was either seated in a booth or dancing to usher on the dance floor; he doesn’t remember seeing you walk in, although with the dim lighting, he hadn’t noticed you at all until you were sitting right in front of him.

you gesture generally toward the group crowding at the front of the dj booth, everyone requesting a different song before the first song had even started, too busy to do more than a lazy wave of your hand in their direction. slurping the last few dregs of the cold water at the bottom of your glass, you place the glass back on the counter, smiling widely at him when he refills your cup again (and with a new lime), still oblivious to the lack of alcohol in the drinks.

shuffling closer on the stool, you take a sip of the “new” drink, “you like me or something?”

you’re blunter than you’d normally be with a bartender as gorgeous as he is, somehow seeing two of him makes you more confident. with a soft chuckle, he mirrors you, leaning closer over the bar to you, “what makes you say that?”

his eyes are twinkling when he looks at you, the red flashing blue and green under the strobe lights, suddenly glad for the quiet night if it meant sitting here listening to your drunken rambling. picking up your glass, you speak again, your words still slightly slurred, “two free drinks, and you’re talking to me… a lot.”

bakugou grins and laughs again, standing straight when he reaches behind the counter for his black coat, throwing it over the bend of his elbow, “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

coyly, you answer him, your eyes a touch delayed tracking him walking from behind the bar, toying with the straw between your teeth, squinting again to read the nametag on his chest, “you wanna get out of here, bakugou?”

his eyes go wide before he laughs again, holding his hand out for you to stumble off the chair into his hold, keeping a steady grip on your wrist when he walks towards the exit, “what ever happened to ‘come here often’?”

his smile makes you giggle behind your hand, the giggle morphing into a hiccup by the time you were into the cool air of the night, the lack of humidity making goosebumps erupt under your skin, his thick jacket around your shoulders before you register the temperature difference.

“you work there.” you seem a little more sober now, your eyes staring straight into his, the water and cold air enough to get you aware of how warm his hand is around your wrist, how his hand feels at the small of your back guiding you outside toward the line of taxis in front of the bar.

“fine, what about you?”

“what about me?”

“do you come here often?”

“first time, actually.”

“you should.” he waves down one of the empty taxis, his skin still against yours as it pulls into the gutter in front of you.

“i should..?”

“come here more often, i’ll need that jacket back,” he opens the door for you, helping you down into the low seat despite your now slightly more sober state, “you gonna be alright? i'll let your friends know you got a taxi.”

almost forgetting you’d just invited him home with you, you’re giddy when you smile up at him again, your cheeks warming when he makes one last promise to get your number when you’re sober, next time.

the promise of seeing him again has you smiling the whole way home, even more so when your friends text you all about how the hot bartender said he’d gotten you a lift home, how the tips of his ears were red when the other bartender asked where he’d been, how he answered the bar phone with a smile when you rang it far too late in the night, next time too long to wait to hear from him again.

#no one pay attention if its bad thank u #mercurys birthday bash #「katslutki-bakugou」#「mercury answers」#「kat <3」#「mercury writes」#bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #tw: alcohol

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another-random-paradise · 21 hours

Note

Your writing was adorable! I have a headcanon request for TWST. Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting, I won't mind. (￣▽￣)=3

Lilia, Leona, Azul (or whomever as long as Lilia is there)'s reaction to crush!reader sleepily telling them they want to marry them one day.

I'm a sap for mushy things. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

A sleepy confession

Thank you so much for the request, it's adorable!! and of course, thank you for the compliments too! I'm a sucker for mushy things too, so this was so much fun to write!

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

Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him

Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Lillia

-you probably found silver asleep somewhere comfortable and instead of waking him up like usual (cause you're a good friend) you decide to also lay down and sleep... You most likely had History with professor Trein before this.

-Lillia just happened to be nearby, or maybe he was keeping an eye on silver, yk, like a good dad :D

- If you're napping under a tree, he might just be sitting on one of the branches

-You'd sleepily look up to him on the branches, as the old fae smiles down at you, and you, probably already half a sleep and maybe even thinking it's a dream, mumble out a soft "I wanna marry you one day.."

-poor guy almost fell out off the tree

-you can't just do that to his old heart!! You can and you did

-his expression would soften, like he'd still be smiling, but it wouldn't be his typical trickster kinda smile (please tell me you know what i mean)

-Despite his usual attitude, I feel like he was very worried about loving you. I'm a huge believer in the Idea that fae usually only fall in love once, so after Meleanor, he believed that was it, he'd never love again. And then you came into his life, like a shining star, guiding him out of the darkness.

-While he was grateful that he got a second chance at love, especially with someone as amazing as you, it's also nerve wrecking for him. The last and only time before this, he had his heart broken and ended up raising her son. Just the thought of the same thing happening again terrified him.

-But after what you just said, he won't need to worry about that anymore, right?

-Now he just needs to come up with the best way to confess... maybe he could cook you something!

Leona

-Due to Leona being a bit of a tsundere, I don't feel like he'd get you to cuddle/sleep with him before officially dating

-BUT, if you two got paired together for a project, especially if it's in the botanical garden, chances are very high, you are doing the project and he's napping

-and doing a project by yourself gets you tired, especially one meant for magic as a magicless student, so you eventually lie down next to him

-due to his sensitive hearing, he lazily opens eyes, and sees you, already half asleep, looking at him, confusing him at first not that he's complaining, till.. "Despite you making me do this project by myself, i somehow i still wanna marry you some day" and just like that you're asleep.

-He, on the other hand, is suddenly very wide awake.

-what?? you didn't mean that, right?? that's just the tiredness speaking, right?? you couldn't have meant that, right? why, or rather how, could you like him of all people?....He can't imagine being anyone's, let alone your, first choice. He's so used to being second.

-For the first time in forever, he is fully awake and can't go back to sleep, just what are you doing to him, Herbivore?

-But this means you like him back, right? alright fine, he'll put some work into confessing, just don't expect anything to grand

-He'd still be awake once you wake up again, much to your confusion, but still deliberately refuse to help. Not a word of what you said is spoken, but if you look closely enough you'll see the blush on his cheeks!

Azul

-You wanted to rest after a long day, maybe even after a long shift at the mostro lounge, and Azul was gracious enough to let you rest on one of the couches in the VIP room, while he worked. He actually wanted to appear like a gentleman in front of you and impress you.

-You can't convince me that those couches aren't comfortable. Which is why you almost immediately fall asleep the moment you lay down.

-But before you do, you make one last comment "I already want to marry you one day as is, but if it means I get to rest like this every night, I'll buy the ring tomorrow"

-If a student walked in right now, they might just confuse him with a crashed pc; or maybe with riddle, considering how red he is

-Just completely stops everything he's doing, he's in shock. he doesn't believe he can actually be loved

-It genuinely shocks him so much that you actually like him back, let alone want to marry him, but he can't say he isn't happy! So him being even more of a gentleman to you and giving you countless discounts worked! (You actually already liked him before that! but he was to busy being insecure to notice)

-Immediately starts working on a relationship contract for you two, hell, you said you want to marry him, right?? might as well start working on the marriage certificate!

-He continues to be absolutely flustered as he writes the two contracts, if either of the twins saw him right now, he'd never hear the end of it!

-Prepare to be asked to dinner at the most romantic table in the mostro lounge with Azul, where he will then ask you out and discusses your relationship as if it was a business meeting :)

Ahhhh my first request, thank you so much again for your kind words and the adorable request, I truly hope i lived up to it's greatness <3

I'm still in book 4, so i tried to write Lilia as in-character as possible based on what i saw of him during events and from other writers :)

feedback is welcomed, just be Kind! Hope you all have a lovely day/night!

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romeavecryst · 19 hours

Text

Never let them know your next move˖ ࣪⊹

Summary: them kissing up on you then they do the unspeakable

Characters; bokuto, kuroo, tanaka

Warnings: chaos, cursing, play fighting, kissing, little hot n sweaty. Not proofread! Touchy grabby boys what can I say.. fem!reader

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

BOKUTO

☆ “your being mean baby..” he whined, ko had been loving up on you for the past fifteen minutes. You’ve only been ignoring him because you were working on school work. “I’ll give you attention in a minute ko.” You hummed.

His dramatic sighs causing you to laugh. It wasn’t like you never payed attention to him it just happens to be kniw when wants it the most. Acting like a puppy who’s deprived. He watched his head resting on your shoulder his eyes wondering your fingers that typed on the keyboard.

How could you ignore him he thought, “you hate me..” he muttered his lips kissing your shoulder. “With everything in my body.” You smiled, feeling his lips travel up your shoulder. His large hands squeezing your hips. “Jus’ want you to love on me.. wanna feel you on me..” he whispered, his tone seductive.

You bit your lip a tingle forming in the pit of your stomach “Ko-“

“AHH!” You yelled, feeling the wettest of his tongue like the side of your face. It wasn’t even small teasing he licked the whole side of your face, quickly pushing himself back knowing your were about to fight.

“You’re fucking kidding me” you laughed discarding your lap top going after him, a fat smile on his face as he grabed your arms pining you down. “Koutaro! Let go of me..” you groaned his big arms holding you against him.

“Nope! I’ve got you now!”

KUROO

☆ His eyes watched you as you wondered around your room, your body pacing impatiently. Kuroo had come over as you were cleaning your room, bad timing yes but he wanted to see you. He wanted a danm nap but you just had to be set on cleaning your room. “UGH!! we can clean it later baby! For the love of god come over to me.” He fake cried sprawling out on you bed.

He watched as you rolled your eyes in the mirror of your vanity, you focused going back on organizing the drawers. He huffed pushing off your bed you watched as he walked up behind you.

“Let me finish I don’t even have that much to do..” you whined feeling his cold hands go under your shirt. “Tetsu my parents are home.” He nodded taking in what you said.

His hands cupping your Boobs over your bra fondling them you felt him smile on the nape of your neck, him enjoying himself. Yet when he looked in the mirror you practically ignored him, though the heat radiating of your face spoke other wise. “Just come lay down with me.” He squeezed a bit tighter.

A pleasant little groan leaving your lips caused him to chuckle mischievously. His lips starting kissing your face a small smile appeared on your face as he did so. But the moment was to nice..

“YOU DID NOT!” You yelled the feeling of your boyfriend letting go of you quickly.

Turning around he was laughing, laughing his ass off. He had licked you!

“AHH BABY PLEASE I WAS JUST JOSHING!”he yelled as you ran at him.

A fit of giggles coming from him as you whipped your wet face against his, “no!” He cried out.

“That what you get motherfucker,” you spoke quickly licking him back after.

“What going on?” The sound of your fathers voice spoke, him witnessing you beating your boyfriend your body on top of him.

“Never mind.. I don’t even wanna know..” he groaned.

TANAKA

☆ Let’s be honest you’d kind be used to it with him. But in this case you were not!

You two where out with his family at dinenr his family sitting around you, two talking amongst themselves. Tanaka was not afraid to kiss up on you in front of his family as nervous as it made you he loved doing it. His lips kissing your hand as you told him to stop “Ryu your grandmother is staring at us.” You whined.

His grandma was in fact staring a smile on her face as she watched her grandson love on you, “you’re so beautiful, I can’t keep to myself.” He said his head falling on your shoulder his lips still kissing on your fingers.

He was normaly very lovey dovey on you but there was just this feeling, you knew something was about to happen you could feel it. And it did happen.

Ryu licking the back of you hand. The back of you hand quickly meeting his mouth popping him. “Ryu! Fu- nasty!”

A heavy laugh left him as you beat on him, his family watching in amusement as you beat on him, “Licking me really! And I knew it was gonna happen!” You spoke is a hushed yell.

“Ahh! Please mercy, baby mercy!!” He yelled dramatically falling into his sisters side for protection just for her to gang up on him as-well.

“Please guys I couldn’t help myself.”he spoke putting a fake frown on his face.

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itsmealaiah · 21 hours

Text

"relax"

TW: breastfeeding, exhaustion, tom being sweet, breakfast in bed, insecurity

Request: Can I please have one where Tom and his eldest daughter are making reader breakfast and bringing it to bed cause she’s breastfeeding and she’s insecure about her C section scar? 🥹 Thank you. Love AAAALL YOUR WORKS

Rating: slightly mature

WC: 0.8k

Caring for your newborn daughter was not a fun task.

She always whined, cried, and squirmed when you were feeding her.

You had been up all night, trying to care for her the best you could as you rocked her to sleep, only for her to wake up minutes later and start sobbing once more.

You were trying to rock her to sleep so you could rest, and so she could as well. She hadn't slept much, and you wanted her to.

Your head was down as you watched her slowly fall asleep, and you sighed in relief, thinking you were finally getting some rest for the first time that day.

Your eyes were dark with the bags under them, your neck cramped and tense as you didn't keep your head up. You slowly began to drift off, until she cried once more.

You sighed, how long was this going to take? You were exhausted, how was she not?

Tom woke up at the sound, and saw you, tired and sad as you prayed for her to fall asleep. He felt awful. You had probably been up all night taking care of her. He wanted to make it up to you as you lowered your shirt, beginning to feed her.

He gazed at the baby, seemingly full of energy as you were the opposite. He wanted to help, but how? You had been caring for the little one all night, so what was he going to do?

He pondered, trying not to concern you as you kept your eyes on your baby, watching her as she fed. You were about to cry, your body was weak and stiff from the all-nighter.

It hadn't been this bad. She always slept for at least four hours before she woke you or tom up with her crying.

You huffed, and lifted her mouth away from your breast as she whined and began to cry for more. A tear slipped down your cheek and you began to cry with her.

Your emotions were not the best, even after the pregnancy. Mood swings were still constant, and tom tried his best to help you with them.

He saw you begin to cry, and it broke his heart. He knew he needed to act now, he was sure of it.

"morning honey" he kissed you and the baby's head, wiping away your tears. "why don't you relax today? me and s/n (sister's name) will do everything, don't worry" he smiled as you nodded.

He left the bedroom, waking your three year old up. "hey bunny, momma needs our help today, wanna make some breakfast for her?"

She babbled a yes, and tom picked her up from her bed, carrying her down to the kitchen. "what do you wanna make her?"

"eggs!" she squealed. tom nodded, and took some eggs out from the fridge. "anything else?" he asked, cracking some into a nearby bowl and beginning to mix.

"o-owange juice!" she added, giggling. "oo, good choice munchkin" he grabbed the juice and poured some into a glass. "why don't you go and turn on some cartoons? dada's got it from here"

"ok!" she scampered over to the living room, climbing onto the couch and turning on looney tunes. he poured the eggs into a pan, and used a spatula to flip and make them fluffy.

They were turning out pretty well, they looked just how he wanted, nice and floofy. He knew it would help you after the horrendous night of caring for his child.

After a few more minutes, he took them off the stove and dumped them onto a tray, calling your daughter's name as she ran over, a smile on her face. "ready to take them up to mama?"

she nodded as tom took the food upstairs, s/n trailing behind him as he carefully carried it. He opened the door, seeing you still tired and breastfeeding, your scar on display. "h-hey tom" you said meekly, ready to fall asleep.

Having your c-section scar where your daughter could see it wasn't probably the best idea, so you took the baby away, craddling her. You then noticed the tray tom was holding, s/n right next to him, beaming brightly.

"hope this is good, me and s/n worked very hard" your daughter agreed, and you gushed. "that's so sweet of you two, but you didn't have to, i could've made breakfast"

"but you shouldn't have to. I can make it sometimes" he brought the tray over, placing it on your lap. You smiled at the gesture, and picked up the fork, diving into the meal.

"thank you tom, you're the greatest" you said earnestly, and he kissed your cheek, picking up s/n and bringing her onto the bed as tom sat down as well. "no problem schatz, anytime you need help, i'm here"

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @itsangelll @tomssexdoll @charliesgoodboy @laylasbunbunny @tokio-motel @kqulitzlvr @tomkaulitzloverr @brooke-tomsschlampe @ballhair @billsdolliest @roseroseluvrr

if i missed anyone lmk!

Comment to be tagged!

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

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onelonelysaiyan · 3 days

Text

-----NSFW Under cut!

-Loves to receive oral, but he’s in heaven when he’s between your legs, man eats good

-Will use one arm to hold your hips in place while his other drapes across your stomach or reaches to play with your tits (if you have them)

-Could spend literally all day between your legs, it’s almost therapeutic for him. Coming home to you after a long day, getting to throw you on the bed and bury his head between your legs makes all the stress disappear in an instant

-SIZE KINK!! I’ve said it before, this man is huge, and he’s certainly proportional too. Not so big that it hurts a lot but god is it a stretch. Adores watching you try to take him too quickly, struggling but determined to make him fit. Loves to loom over you and make you feel small and helpless

-LOVES when you initiate things. Despite his bad boy dominant persona, he thinks you taking charge is hot as hell, gets him going in an instant

-Mess with his wings, he’ll melt. Play with the feathers at the base of his wings and he’ll be a whining mess in seconds, fuck, he loves it so much

-Tell him what you want him to do to you, guide his hands where you want them. Loves to hear you say exactly what you want from him, how badly you need him

-Praise him, he NEEDS it. It’s like a drug to him, he’ll do anything just to hear you call him your Good Boy. Tell him how perfect he is, how handsome and strong he is. Tell him how well he fills you up, how no one could fuck you the way he does, how you belong to him and only him

-R I D E H I M Do it, push him down on his back and TAKE CONTROL, he will lose it I promise. Even if he tries to say he’s the dominant one in the relationship, shut him up with a searing kiss he will behave after that

-Please let him collar you, even if it’s just on occasion. He loves the power trip it gives him, and he adores that you trust and love him enough to let him, especially if you wear it out in public. He makes sure to get you one that’s really ornate and has a charm on it of his stylized A to match his robes

-More Sub! Adam! Call him your handsome boy when you top him, tell him he’s behaving so well for you and that he’s making you feel sooo good~ He’ll whine like a bitch in heat, hands grabbing your hips as he pathetically thrusts up into you

-I know I said it already but I mean it, praise him. All kinds of praise, it goes straight to his dick. He’s desperate for your approval, and while he’s certain he’s amazing in bed, hearing you say it leaves him in a puddle

-Call him your sweet boy, your handsome baby boy. He’ll whine about it afterward, but in the moment he lives for it. Tell him that mommy/daddy’s got him, you’ll take good care of him, make him feel so good~ He’ll lose it in the best way possible. Seeing him melt like that is such an experience, it’s sooo worth it I promise!

-Dom! Adam is rough, but always makes sure you feel loved and cared for

-Likes to wrap a hand around your throat during missionary, the other holding your leg over his shoulder as he hits that spot deep inside you over and over again. Pays close attention so he doesn’t hurt you though, you’re his Angel after all! <3

-Loves doggy style a lot too. If you’ve got wings or a tail you bet your sweet ass he’s screwing with them, squeezing and tugging, anything to make you whine for him.

-Is a hair puller, simple as that. Loves the control it gives him

-BREEDING KINK!!!! Mating press is very common for him, loves how deep he can reach and seeing you bent in half like that does things to him. Makes him wanna fuck a baby into you whether you can have kids or not, he’s honestly so smitten with you <3

-Wants to hear you scream his name, turn you into a blubbering mess, all whiny and dumb on his cock, unable to think of anything but him

-Will tell you how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look, all fucked out on his dick. His sweet baby, you can take one more orgasm, right sweetheart~? He promises to fill you up good and full if you do! Just a little bit more~

Will write some scenarios eventually, both SFW and NSFW, I love this man so much <3

#hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader headcanons #adam smut #hazbin hotel smut #smut headcanons

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half-oz-eddie · 15 hours

Text

parental death mention

Billy received a devastating phone call from an executor, asking if they could meet at an office in town regarding his mother.

Billy didn’t need to know much else, except the fact that it was about his mother and it was urgent.

When he got to the office, he was given an urn, an apology, a vague explanation, and a check.

His mother died, and there was no chance of him ever seeing her again.

Billy stood in front of his car, emotionless and confused, staring down at the urn as memories of being in her arms flashed through his mind.

And the only way he can hold her close is by clutching her urn to his chest. But the warmth was gone and he could never hope to feel it again.

He stared down at it, longingly, as if he was staring into her eyes. The sand casted urn is blonde just like her hair, iridescent and sparkling in a way he remembered the shore of the beach on their last happy day together.

He walked, ever so slowly back to Cherry Lane, his heart heavy from the terrible news and the uncertainty of what would happen once he arrived home with the urn.

Would Neil take it away? Would he smash it right in front of him? He dreaded what the near future held.

“So…” He awkwardly began. “Nice to uh…see you again. Not what I ever imagined but…I guess death is inevitable, and we can’t predict when it will come and get us.” Billy sighed. “I hate that you’re gone. We’re not even on the same planet anymore. At least when you were alive, the fact that we lived on the same earth gave me hope. Now…now that’s just gone. What’m I supposed to do?”

He could hear a car approaching behind and glared over when it slowed down beside him.

“You okay?”

Harrington? Why would he fucking ask that? He doesn’t care.

“I never see you on foot. Did your car break down somewhere—“

“No. I’m good. I don’t need anything.”

“What’re you carrying?” Steve asked, slowly driving beside him.

“Why’re you in my business, Harrington? We’re not even friends.”

“I’m asking because…I didn’t wanna assume but—i-it looks similar to my nana’s urn.”

Billy stopped walking, his head hanging down. “It’s my mom.” He replied despondently.

“Your mom? Jesus, I’m so sorry, man. D’you wanna talk or—“

“I told you, I’m fine.” Billy chuckled it off. “I haven’t seen her since I was 9. I don’t even care that much that she’s gone.”

Steve didn’t buy that for a second. He noticed the way Billy hung his head down and clutched the urn so close to his body like a scared child holding a teddy bear.

“Billy, your house is 20 minutes from here by foot, and mine is on the way. Why don’t you just let me drive you—“

“I’m not in a rush to go home, Harrington. Just leave me alone.” He continued walking, speeding up slightly.

“Fine.” Steve sped off.

Billy wasn’t sure why, but he felt a tinge of guilt for pushing Steve away, until he realized Steve was parking up ahead and getting out of his car.

He froze when Steve began to run toward him.

“If you’re gonna walk, I’ll just walk with you.”

“Why?”

“Because your mom died, man. And the fact that you didn’t try to punch me earlier says a lot.”

“I just didn’t wanna drop my mom’s urn, or I would’ve punched you.”

Steve smirked, nodding in understanding. “Fair enough. I guess I’m being annoying.”

“A little.” Billy mumbled.

“Only a little?”

“Do you want me to say that you’re getting on my fucking nerves instead?”

“Nah. A little annoying is fine.”

They continued to walk together in silence, when Billy stopped.

“I don’t wanna go home.”

“How come? Don’t you wanna safely store your mom’s—“

“It’s not safe there. Even in death, mom’s not safe under Neil’s roof. He’ll probably break it in front of me then make me sweep up her ashes.” His lip began to tremble at the thought.

“Hey, man, we’re not gonna let that happen, okay? My car’s right here.” He pointed. “We can go to my house. My parents never come upstairs and there’s a nice place we can set her urn. Nobody’ll mess with it and you can come see her whenever you want.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Billy questioned.

“I already told you. Your mom died. I’m not gonna kick a man while he’s down. That’s your thing.”

Billy chuckled, causing Steve to smile.

“So whaddya say? Wanna come back to casa Harrington and give your mom a safe place?”

Billy nodded. “Under one condition.”

“Hm?”

“Never call your house ‘casa Harrington’ again.”

Steve laughed. “Alright, alright. Deal.”

—

Steve drove Billy to his house and showed him to a marble console table at the end of the hallway.

There wasn’t anything on it, except for an old copy of Gone With The Wind.

“This was her favorite book.” Billy mentioned, setting the urn down beside the book.

He stood back and reached into his pocket for a small seashell to place next to her urn.

“Hm…” Steve hummed pensively.

“What?”

“No, it’s just…I dunno, her urn’s like…lopsided. I don’t want it to fall over.

Billy stood back, noticing the way her urn didn’t rest flat on the surface like it was supposed to.

“Maybe there’s something under it.” Steve suggested.

Billy lifted the urn. There was nothing on the table, so he felt the bottom of the urn, noticing a strange bump beneath the felt.

He carefully peeled away at the felt, startled when a square fell to the floor by his feet.

He set his mother’s urn down and focused his attention on the square.

“Is that a…floppy disk?” Steve asked as Billy picked the black square up off the floor.

“Yeah. D’you have a computer?”

“I do but uh—are you sure we should like…actually open that?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell not? It could be a special message from my mom.”

“Because! What if it, I dunno, self destructs or something.”

“My mom wasn’t a fucking spy, shit-for-brains. Show me where your computer is.” Billy demanded.

“Fine.”

Steve led Billy to his computer and Billy inserted the floppy disk into the drive.

The floppy only contained two files. A photo, and an audio file.

Billy opened the photo first, frowning deeply.

“Cute kid. That you?”

“Yeah, it’s…me and my mom at the beach.”

“Aw, you look so happy. Look at that big bright smile. And your mom, she was…she was super pretty, man. You look just like her.”

“You callin’ me pretty?” He glanced over at Steve.

Steve gulped, his eyes shifting away. “Well I mean you called me pretty before! So what’s it matter?”

Billy answered with a shrug, returning his attention to the computer.

“You got headphones?”

“Yeah, check the drawer right there.”

Billy pulled the drawer handle and peered inside. He quickly grabbed the headphones, disregarding the condoms in the drawer beside it.

He plugged the headphones in and listened to the audio file.

“Hello, Billy. If you’re listening to this, it means I’ve passed on, which is…so unfortunate, but I learned I have cancer, and the more I struggle, the more I become aware of how little time I have left. It pains me everyday, Billy. I wish we had more time together. I’m sure you grew up to become a fine young man.”

There was a pause in the audio. Billy could hear soft sniffles.

“And I want you to continue to grow. But I’ve learned some disturbing news, about your father…have you ever wondered why we had so many nice things, even on your father’s salary? I wasn’t working, and yet I was always able to keep the finest foods on the table, and buy you the most expensive clothing. You were probably too young to think anything of it. Before you were born, your father was an active duty soldier. Now, he’s a resident spy. He has been engaging in espionage for several years and feeding classified data to Russians. You have moved very close to a secret Russian military base. I’m not sure where in Hawkins the military base is located, but this is all the information I’ve gathered over the years. I need you to promise me. Promise me. You will get away from your father before he gets you killed. I love you so much, sweetie. Take care and be safe. And…I am so sorry. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

When the audio message ended, Billy removed the headphones and stared at the screen, wide-eyed.

“Billy? Everything okay?”

He slowly turned to Steve, still in disbelief. “Hey, Harrington. Can I trust you?”

“Y—what?”

“Can I trust you?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. You can trust me.”

“My mom said my dad’s a spy. He’s been spying for the Russian military and that’s why we moved here. She thinks he’s gonna get me killed.”

“Holy shit…” Steve quietly whispered. “We need to talk to Hop.”

“What? No!” Billy shouted. “You said I could trust you!”

“Listen!” Steve exclaimed. “Hop’s been taking care of this kid, her name’s El, short for Eleven. She used to live in the Hawkins National Lab. She—she’s got powers and she was used as like a-a radio to spy on the Russian military.”

“Nah.” Billy laughed. “No that’s bullshit—“

“It’s not. I swear. You trust me, right? Then come with me.”

Billy shrugged. “I dunno about this.”

“Look This town’s got a lot of secrets. Really…weird secrets. I think it’s time you find out everything we know.”

“We? We who?”

Steve shrugged. “Sinclair, Henderson, Wheeler…Max.”

“Max?! That little shit knows things?!”

“Yes! And I tried to tell you that night we fought but you didn’t wanna hear me out.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Billy argued.

“I know! I know! Now we…we’ve gotta figure this shit out.” Steve grabbed a walkie talkie. “We’ve got a code red. Everybody meet at the quarry ASAP.”

“Copy that!” Dustin responded.

Steve returned his attention to Billy. “Let’s go. It’s time for you to learn the truth.”

#no idea where i was going with this #but i'm clearing out my drafts #so have this #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #death mention tw #ivy.doc

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 days

Text

After Hours (Boss!Geto x Assistant!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto Suguru, your boss, and owner of his own public relations firm, celebrates a job well done on a five-month-long project with you, his trusty secretary, but what was once a friendly, professional relationship between you turns into something else when the staff goes home for the night and champagne gets involved.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized!; Crush Confession; Boss/Secretary; Some Power Play; Sexual Tension; Coworkers to Lovers; Office Sex; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Geto Pours Champagne on the Titties & Kitty; Temperature/Sensory Play; Ice Play; Cunnilingus; Sex Against the Window; Geto Got a Big Ol' Dick; Unprotected PIV; Mutual O; Cum on Ass; Aftercare; Surprise Ending

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Once again, a big thank you to @curiouscutie143 for allowing me to bring her fantasies to life. I had so much fun writing boss!Geto & now I wanna lowkey write a longer fic about an office romance with him. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Cheers,” your boss says with a smile. “To the successful end of this stupid fucking waste of time.”

You laugh, lightly clinking your champagne flute with the extremely handsome, wealthy, intoxicating man sitting next to you on his office couch…who also, again, happens to be your boss. “It wasn’t a waste,” you giggle. “But I will say it was very time-consuming. At least we got it done in time.”

Geto Suguru hums in agreement as he takes a sip of the champagne in unison with you, making even that look hot.

He is truly a man to behold with his long, black hair he kept tied into a respectable ponytail, a lean build under his button-down and slacks, gage earrings that he purposely kept in for tonight’s festivities, brown eyes you could swim in forever, and tattoos that he usually keeps hidden beneath his blazers and designer suit jackets, but tonight are exposed under his rolled-up sleeves.

He puts all models and men to shame with his beauty. And wealth! He is his own boss and CEO of his own PR firm which he has owned for over six years now. It skyrocketed in popularity in only a year, earning the title of the 6th most popular business in Japan which has jumped to 2nd place on that list. You joined his team two years later as his personal secretary after working as an assistant for his HR team.

Geto, who interviewed and hired you, was so impressed with your work and presentation that he offered you the job. “I need a personal secretary,” he explained to you, “and I think you’d be the perfect fit.” Two years later, you’re still here and you don’t see yourself going anywhere else. Geto is a wonderful boss who offers great pay, supreme benefits, and understands the importance of mental health days.

Though he doesn’t allow anyone to play with him or his money. If he suspects that an employee is not giving him the most on the clock or is taking advantage of his kindness, he will either straighten them out himself with a private meeting or send them on their way. However, he is a kind, respectable, understanding man that you are honored to have worked for for four years.

And a man that you have embarrassingly been crushing on for four years. “All thanks to you,” he praises. “I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am to you, V. Seriously; I so appreciate all of those times you’ve stayed late with me and the team and set up all of those lunch meetings and conference calls.”

Those eyes, so generous and kind, smile at you in his spacious, luxurious office. Seriously; Geto’s office is like a damn penthouse stretching over 900 square feet with polished marbled floors and open-brick walls. A kitchenette, coffee section, wine mini bar, and bathroom sit on the left side of the office while his mahogany desk and bookcase sit on the right.

His lounging section, or “decompression area” as he calls it, sits smack dab in the middle, included with two chairs and a couch you both currently occupy with a glass coffee table sitting in the middle.

Though the office is wide enough for space, you feel as if the walls are closing in on you the more you sit and stare at Geto. “Well, that’s my job anyway,” you joke, clearing your throat. “It was no trouble, Mr. Geto, really! I’m honored you chose me to work with you on this.”

Geto scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you as he begins to loosen his tie with one hand. “You thought I wouldn’t?” he chuckles. “You’re my trusted assistant and a great employee. Plus, dealing with people is your specialty, unlike me. If anyone was needed on this project, it was you.”

You feel like you flush as red as the cocktail dress you are wearing despite the fact you’re as Black as your mama.

Tonight was the celebration of your five-month project ending. Geto has been interested in partnerships and merging his firm with other companies, especially tech companies. When a popular tech firm in Germany reached out, it took about five months to get everything finalized and a lot of reaching out to multiple people.

You sweated over this project, doing work at home, setting up meetings, and sometimes staying late with Geto and his business team where he ordered Chinese and pizza for the crew around dinnertime.

There were also days and nights when everyone wasn’t here then you’d be with Geto in his office, typing up memos and emails he would think of at the top of his head. But you didn’t mind. Not only did your boss pay you overtime for all the hours you spent working on this, but it also meant you could spend more time with him.

Finally, just a week ago, the project was completed and Geto’s partnership was greenlit. All staff was invited to the party, including those who didn’t even work on it, to celebrate such a milestone for Geto’s firm. Food, alcohol, and music were all included, lasting from 5 PM to 9 at night.

You danced and sang karaoke with your coworkers and friends, trying to get Geto to join in though it was like trying to pull teeth out of his mouth. He looks more relaxed now as he loosens his tie and pops a collar to his shirt, revealing the column of his throat and toned chest. You look away, feeling warm.

“Now I can finally rest without hurrying here at 6 AM to prepare for meetings or deal with that stupid fucking Excel chart,” he huffs, revealed. “And we’re blessed with a new partnership. Praise God or whoever.” He points his glass to the ceiling before taking a sip of the Brüte champagne. You giggle, feeling his relief.

Suddenly, the door to his office opens and you startle as if you were just caught in a very compromising position with your boss. Gojo Satoru, your supervisor, Geto’s right hand, and the heart throb of the office (understandably since the man is just as fine as Geto), pokes his snow-white head into the room.

“You two still in here?” he scoffs, glaring at you beneath his glasses. “Oooh, are those more of those cupcake cheesecakes?” He strides into the room and bends down to pluck one of the tiny cakes off of Geto’s desk, but Geto chucks a pillow at him. “Uh-uh, greedy,” he criticizes. “You barely left any of the food at the party earlier. Besides, aren’t you goin’ for dinner now?”

Gojo catches the pillow with one hand, grinning. “Dinner and drinks,” he cackles. “Shoko, Yuki, and I were wonderin’ if you two wanted to come along and not be boring for once.” He slips his glasses down his nose and winks at you, indicating that he’s joking.

Knowing his game and having this relationship with Gojo, you play along. “I am not boring,” you scoff, putting a hand to your chest. “My cat thinks I’m a lot of fun at 3 AM, thank you very much. I put on all kinds of concerts for her!”

Geto gives a big laugh that lights your insides up while Gojo physically cringes. “Fun to us isn’t just downing shots and passin’ out on our couch, Satoru,” your boss scoffs. His friend takes a moment to think about it, sitting down on the edge of Geto’s desk. “Okay, point taken, but the offer is still open. C’mon, we need to celebrate and it’s a Friday night!”

Even with his friend’s whining, Geto shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Thanks, but not tonight,” he sighs. “I wanted to clean up my office a bit before I head home and get some much-needed sleep.”

Gojo takes his glasses off and rolls his ocean-blue eyes. “Such an old man,” he huffs. “What about you, Ms. V? You up for some fun with me?” The gorgeous, Colgate smile he gives you is full of temptation, but you’ve already had enough drinking and dancing for tonight.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you sweetly say, “but I have to get ready for a family event tomorrow. My mom is forcing me to help cook.” You get up from the couch and saunter over to him, barely seeing his eyes glazing over your hips. “Buuut if y’all ever decide to have another night out, let me know and I’ll put it on my calendar.”

You take the pillow from him and offer him a sweet smile which he returns. It damn near makes him prettier. “Will do,” he replies. His phone suddenly dings and he sighs. “That’s Shoko chewin’ me out,” he announces, slipping off the desk and heading to the door on his long legs. “I’ll see you two kids later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…or do. I don’t give a fuck.”

He gives you another wink and a smile before slipping out of the office and shutting the door behind him. “Have fun!” you call after him. Once he leaves, you realize how quiet the building seems. “Any of the janitors still here?” you curiously ask Geto.

He is still sitting on the couch, one arm draped over the back of the couch and still sipping his champagne. “Nah, I sent everybody home after the party ended.” He gives you a curious look, almost looking like a puppy...or maybe that’s just the champagne getting to you. You only had a half of glass at the party and now you find your current glass empty.

“How come you didn’t want to go with Satoru, if you don’t mind me asking?” he suddenly asks, his head cocked to the side. You don’t mind since Geto and you have a very “close” relationship.

It’s one of the closest you have at work, ironically enough. You know what his condo looks like having visited there before to deliver papers and packages that accidentally came to the office.

You know his birthday and he knows yours, even sending you flowers to your apartment every year, each one bigger and more beautiful than the last.

You talk about anything that annoys or bothers you when you find yourselves together, even sometimes having lunch together (for work purposes).

You would say that he is almost like your work husband, but that would be pushing it. You find yourself needing to remind yourself that he’s your boss! No matter how good he looks in his suits or the way you feel when he praises your work, you must remember that. This is your job. Your responsibility.

“Eh,” you sigh with a shrug. “Sometimes, I just like being home to unwind and relax. Nothing beats a glass of wine, a hot bath, and a movie.” Geto nods, understanding.

“What about you?” you curiously ask as you sit back down beside him. “Why didn’t you go with Gojo? He’s your best friend, right?”

Geto drains the rest of his glass before pouring another. “Unfortunately,” he jokes, making you laugh. He seems to enjoy that. “Nah, but I’m the same: sometimes, I like to unwind with some drinks and social outings, and other times, I just chill at home in my very spacious, very lonely condo with my dog. When you’re the owner of a PR firm, it’s usually the second one.”

You can’t help but feel sad about that. “So was that story about your mom a lie?” he asks with a smirk. Sheepishly, you nod. “So I’m guessin’ that show for your cat is the move for tonight?”

You would say yes, but something pulls you back. You don’t know if it’s the champagne or the way Geto’s cologne smells, but something is keeping you glued to the couch with him. “W-Well, I was gonna say I can help you clean up your office if you want…a-and drink the rest of this champagne!” You pick up the bottle and pour yourself another glass, raising it to him.

Geto looks taken aback as he clinks his glass with yours. “I mean…if you want,” he hesitantly says. “You absolutely don’t have to stay for my sake, V. You’re not on the clock.”

You flush, not wanting him to think you’re weird for staying here or that you have ulterior motives (which you do). “It’s okay!” you laugh, waving your manicured hand. “Really! Call me weird, but I kind of like organizing.”

Geto laughs at this, getting up from the couch. “Well, now I know why your office is so pristine,” he chuckles. “Lemme turn on some music then.”

You watch him as he walks over this his desk, shamelessly ogling his firm, toned, juicy ass in his slacks. You would give so much to feel it in your hands, your nails digging into the flesh while his hips grind against yours, his cock buried deep inside your–

The sound of a piano mixed with horns and a smooth bass makes you jump, deep in your naughty thoughts. Geto sighs and his shoulders loosen as he presses the volume up on his Bluetooth, happy and relaxed.

“Jazz music?” you snort. He gives you a sheepish smirk. “I know, I know: I’m an old man.” To make him feel better, you begin to snap your fingers, albeit offbeat, and that makes him laugh even harder.

For the next hour, you sit with your boss and help him organize his office while downing champagne. While he rearranges items on his desk, you lounge on his couch with your heels off and organize documents, either throwing some away or keeping some to file. You talk every so often about everything––new movies, restaurants, plans for the summer, etc. But the silence that follows these conversations isn’t awkward, but peaceful and comfortable. You feel relaxed with Geto.

“So what’s the plan for this weekend?” he suddenly asks as he organizes his bookcase. “Maybe a date or something?” You pause, not sure why this question is making you feel so frazzled. “If that’s too personal, I understand,” he quickly adds, noticing your reluctance to answer.

You push your glass away, having already finished your second glass. You feel bubbly and loose, the alcohol sinking its claws into you. “No,” you reply, sheepishly so. “No dating for me right now with work and everything. Maybe one day if I find the right person.”

Geto hums and goes back to organizing his books. You continue to work, mostly to give your hands something to do. “What about you?” you ask. “With your kinda money, you could take a weekend trip to Mexico for the hell of it, if you wanted!”

Your boss suddenly turns, his expression stoic and a brow raised. “Exactly how much money do you think I have, Ms. L/N?” he asks in a deep voice that makes your pussy jump.

At first, you think you went too far but then you see the corner of his mouth flick upwards. “Like you don’t have a condo,” you scoff. “Which I know because I’ve sent you packages from work and secret admirers before.”

Geto’s brows wrinkle cutely. “Secret admirers?” he parrots. You nod, already giggling at one particular memory. “You remember the flowers sent here when you were sick with COVID that time?”

He blinks, clueless, and then his eyes widen. “Ohhh, yeah!” he laughs, tossing his head back. “God, Gojo wouldn’t leave me alone about that for weeks. She was an old partner of mine who heard through the grapevine that I was sick.” He turns and leans against his bookcase, his, big, tatted arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, still shuffling papers. You want to give yourself something to do as the next question gnaws at you. “A…business partner?” you carefully ask. You never knew who this woman was that sent Geto the flowers; only that you didn’t know her but she knew your boss.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, giving you a smile that looks almost saddened. “I haven’t dated anyone long-term in over two years. Like you said, maybe one day if I find the right person, but that hasn’t happened yet.” He chuckles to himself. “You’d think it’d be easy with my status, right?”

You don’t say anything for a while and the silence becomes thick even with the music playing. When he turns around to finish his work, you finally get up the nerve to speak to his backside.

When you start, you can’t stop yourself, the champagne overflowing out of your mouth. “You know, if it’s any consolation to you, I-I think you’d deserve to meet someone nice,” you stutteringly say. “You’re a very good man, Mr. Geto.”

And then he turns slowly to you and the way the city lights from the window reflect on his shocked face and in his eyes makes you realize what you just said. “V,” he says, his voice breathless and soft. You cover your mouth but it’s too late. You can’t take them back. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that,” you quietly gasp.

Immediately, you get up, but the papers you were organizing fall from your lap onto the floor.

“I’m so, so sorry!” you squeak. “I-I should leave!” You’re near tears, a hot rush of humiliation falling on you. You fall onto your knees and begin picking up the papers, swearing as you do.

“No, no, V,” Geto says, walking toward you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“No, I do!” you protest. “That was totally inappropriate! I don’t know why I–” You pause when your finger catches against the edge of a sheet of paper too quickly and it slices into your skin.

“Ow!” you hiss, immediately snatching your hand away and dropping the paper.

Quickly, Geto stops the music and rushes over to you. He kneels down in front of you, crushing the papers under his knees as if they mean nothing. “What happened?” he demands.

You silently show him your bleeding finger, whimpering at the sting. “Lemme see,” he says, already taking your hand. He examines the cut and frowns at it. “Oh, honey, it cut you deep,” he coos, the pet name making your stomach flip. He’s never called you that before. “Here, don’t move,” he orders and quickly hurries to his bathroom.

He returns with a first aid kit and coaxes you to sit up on the couch. He takes your wounded finger in one hand, holding an alcohol swab in the other. “It may sting a bit,” he warns. “Just squeeze my leg if it’s too much.” And it does sting. You hiss and grip his thigh as he cleans the cut, watching your expression. “That’s it,” he softly coos. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flutters and your body grows hot at the very inappropriate pet name, but what is more inappropriate are the past thoughts you’ve had about him calling you a good girl. His good girl. He smiles at you when he finishes cleaning the cut. “Hard part’s over,” he chuckles. “Now I’ll just add some antibacterial cream and a band-aid to make it all better.”

You stay quiet as he applies the cream to your cut, his touch soft and gentle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Geto,” you whisper. He narrows his eyes at you. “What are you talkin’ about?” he scoffs. “V, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was just an accident. You could never do anything to upset me…except think that you don’t deserve to date right now.”

The silence around you swells the instant he says it. “W-What?” you whisper, gaping at him. He continues his work, now wrapping the band-aid around your finger. “Y’know, if it’s any consolation to you, you deserve to meet the right man too. You’re so sweet and smart and beautiful…who wouldn’t want you?”

Finally, he finishes and just looks at you. You look at him too, both of you just staring at each other in the dimly lit office. Geto finally breaks and pinches the bridge of the nose. “God, I really shouldn’t have said that,” he groans. “We shouldn’t be doing any of this.”

Seeing his internal battle and realizing that he feels the same way you do, you keep your hand on his thigh and squeeze. “Suguru,” you softly say. “It’s okay.”

He looks at you in shock. This is the first time you’ve ever used his first name, especially when talking to him. He moves closer to you, making the room feel like it’s shrinking. The city lights reflect in his eyes through the window, twinkling at you. “Say my name again,” he demands but it’s more like a plea. “Tell me what you want me to do, V. You can tell me to stop and I will.”

You know this is very bad. You know this is wrong. You know that if you do this, you can never go back to the way things were. But you can’t turn back at this point. “Suguru,” you say again, “please. I want this.” You trail your hand up to his chest, feeling his heart pound against your fingertips. “I’ve wanted you for 5 years,” you confess.

The restraint in Geto’s eyes finally dissipates and he places his hand on top of yours. “Fuck,” he growls. “I’ve wanted this too, V. You have no fuckin’ idea.” He takes both of your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. You damn near choke, feeling like you’re about to faint.

He scoots closer, close enough to do so himself…but he doesn’t. “I need your words, mama,” he murmurs.

Finally, you find the will to speak: “Yes,” you whimper and it’s enough to make Geto melt. “Kiss me, Suguru.” Immediately, he swoops in and takes you into his arms, holding you against him as he places the hottest, most passionate kiss you’ve ever had on your lips.

His lips are soft and wet against yours, pulling you in farther and farther. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him flush against you. If this were a romantic comedy, there would be fireworks popping off outside the same way they are in your head. Geto pulls away, softly panting. “Keep talkin’ to me,” he whispers. “Tell me what you want from me.”

He swoops in to kiss you again, drowning out your soft moans. “Touch me,” you plea into his mouth. “Put your hands on me, Suguru.”

He does just that, his big hands moving down your hips to pull you into his lap. You wrap your arms tight around his neck like a koala bear, latching onto his body. Geto wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves how your soft, pudgy body feels against him and sitting on top of him, your heat radiating from between your thighs against his crotch. Your kisses grow deeper and wetter, your tongues swirling against each other, arousing the both of you.

“You’re wearing too much,” you whisper, tugging at his collar. He sniggers against your lips, his hands gripping your ass. “So are you,” he chuckles. “But we can help each other with that, can’t we?” Even without the seduction in his gaze, you wouldn’t resist.

You begin to pop his buttons, yank off his tie, and peel his shirt off while he unzips your dress. You beat him, successfully getting him semi-naked. At the feeling and sight of his toned abs, pecs, and tatted, tanned skin, you damn near get a nosebleed. “Like whatcha see, babydoll?” he purrs. “Because I’m lovin’ what I’m seein’ right now.”

He coaxes you to stand up in front of him and finally peels off your dress, exposing your lace bra and panties to him. At the sight of you standing between his thighs in only your underwear, stockings, and heels, Geto almost busts a nut. You’re so fucking beautiful, babydoll, shit,” he hisses.

His hands glide down your sides before pulling you closer. You allow him to do what he wants, loving whatever he does, especially when he latches his lips onto your brown nipples. While he sucks and laps at your nipples, alternating between each, his big hands mold and fondle each juicy breast that his mouth can’t occupy.

Your sultry, slutty moans are like music to him, way better than the jazz. “Fuck!” you moan. “Suguru…that feels so good!” Your head falls back and your eyes close, the pleasure immense. He’s so, so good with his mouth! You wonder just how good he is eating pussy.

Geto suddenly looks up at you, his mouth still latched onto your hardened, brown nipple.

“Lay back on the couch and put your arms over your head,” he orders you. You do so, shivering in delight at him telling you what to do. He then takes his empty champagne glass off of the table and pours himself a glass.

“Lemme try something,” he pants before slowly pouring some of the champagne over your breasts. You gasp as each cold, little droplet hits your skin, making your nipples even harder. He then swoops down and begins to lap at the champagne, drinking it from between your cleavage and lapping it off your nipples.

“Mmm,” you softly moan, melting into the couch cushion. You’re so relaxed that you barely notice the ice cube in Geto’s mouth until he’s dragging it over your neck and tits. You gasp, your back arching into his cold lips.

He smiles, leaning back up with the ice cube in his mouth and giving you an open-mouth kiss. The ice cube falls into your mouth, immediately melting. “That feel good, babydoll?” he chuckles, loving the way your skin jumped at the cold ice cube.

He continues to suck on your nipples while you grind your hips against his thigh wedged between your thighs. “My, you’re so vocal,” he hums. “Thank God the staff ain’t here or we’d be in big trouble.” He then sits up, straddling you, and slowly takes down his ponytail. Watching his locks of black hair cascade over his shoulders and back is more than you can handle.

“I need more of you,” he says, sounding hoarse and in need. “Is it okay if I taste you, babydoll? I’ve been dreaming of what you’d feel like against my tongue for so long.” He doesn’t touch you. Not until you say so. Consent being so important to him makes you wetter, your cunt throbbing against his knee. “Yes, sir,” you moan. “Please taste me. I’m yours.”

He yanks you closer by your legs, making you squeal. “Keep saying that,” he demands. He then hunkers down in between your legs, peppering your jiggly, luscious thighs in kisses. “I’m yours,” you say, a laugh slipping out of you.

He takes your panties off of you, leaving your heels on. “I’m yours,” you gasp as his lips make contact with your fatter, softer ones down under. His tongue laps and licks at your folds, caressing your clit. He then begins to gently suck on the tiny bud, making your toes curl. “I’m yours, Suguru, fuck!” you moan, your hands lacing in his hair. “Please do that again!”

Geto smirks against your pussy. “What?” he chuckles. “You mean this?” He does the same move again, this time swirling his tongue around your clit.

The pleasure is overwhelming, making your mind blank and emitting the sluttiest sounds out of you. “Shit, Sugu, yes, fuck!” you pant. “You’re s-so…oooo, fuck, baby, right there!”

Geto continues to feast on your pussy, eating it up like it’s his last meal for a while. “Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he groans against your slit, his tongue sliding down to your asscrack before sliding back up. “I like seein’ you like this. Keep makin’ more of those sounds for me, babydoll. That’s an order.”

You can’t help it, so you do it, making as many moans, whines, and grunts as he wants. With the way he works his mouth against your pussy, it’s impossible to not. But when his hands move up to tweak and pinch your nipples, you almost explode.

“Yes, like that!” you whine. “I love that so much! Keep goin’, sir, please, sh-sh-shit!” You begin to grind your clit against his nose while his tongue explores your insides, his hot, wet mouth and cushiony lips too much to bear. You can’t take much more of this! “Shit, Suguru!” you moan. “Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Geto hums, slipping his tongue out of you. He begins to suck on your throbbing clit again, making you see heaven. “Say the magic word,” he coos against your clit. Your hands grip his hair as your back arches into his ministrations, needing more. “Please, sir!” you whine. “Please, please let me cum! I need it, please!”

His chocolate eyes peer up at you through the V of your thighs, demanding you to give him what he wants. “Give it to me, babydoll,” he orders. “Cum all over me. Fuckin’ do it.” As his voice drops several octaves, you feel shivers travel up and down your spine. Your core begins to tighten more and more as you grind against his magical mouth over and over again.

When you cum, you cum hard. You’ve never had such an intense orgasm before. It tears through you, making you nearly arch off of the bed as you explode in Geto’s mouth. Moans and cries of pleasure leave your lips, tingles of ecstasy coursing through you. The man between your legs hungrily laps at your pussy, slurping up all of the cream that you give him.

Finally, after several seconds, you come down from your high, aching in the best way possible. Geto pulls away with a sigh, his lips dripping with you. “You’re way better than the champagne,” he chuckles, licking your juices off of his lips. “Now I need more.”

He seems to shift into a whole other person the more you look at him. His eyes darken and his hands massage your thighs a lot more as if he can’t get enough of them. “I’m sorry, babydoll, but you seem to have made me into a fiend,” he growls. “If you don’t want this, tell me now before I bust a hole through these pants.”

He grips his hard-on pushing into his slacks and your eyes have never stretched so wide before.

“B-But what about–”

“You don’t need to take care of me,” he interrupts. “What you can do is lay back and let me fuck you like I need to.” He gazes down at you, molten lust evident in his eyes. “Will you let me, V?” he asks. “Is that okay with you?”

Is that okay with you? Your pussy is dripping at the mention of finally getting what she and you both want. Finally!

Instinctively, you open your legs for him, exposing your soaked pussy to his naked eyes only. “Fuck me, sir,” you purr. “I want you so bad. Please, just fuck me now.”

Geto doesn’t need to be told twice. After planting another rough, wet kiss on your lips, he unzips his pants and shrugs his boxers down to his waist.

Like a Jack-in-the-Box, his cock springs up, fat, long, and throbbing. You practically salivate at the sight of it. Smirkingly, Geto wraps a hand around himself and slowly slides himself home inside the wet, spongy walls of your pretty cunt, emitting a gasp from the both of you.

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him the go to move. Once you have adjusted to his size and girth, you put your hands on his shoulders and nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

He settles on top of you, keeping his arms on either side of you to hold himself up, and slowly begins to rock his hips. As soon as he begins to sheathe his cock in and out of you, you feel the pleasure you felt before return but it’s increased by 100. You are overwhelmed with ecstasy every time Geto pumps his cock inside of you and his pelvis rubs against your clit, unable to hold back the slutty sounds dripping from your open mouth.

Geto smiles down at you, loving how adorable you look underneath him as you take his cock. He holds himself up with one hand to hold one of your juicy tits in his hand, loving how it jiggles as he fucks himself down into you. “So needy for me,” he sighs. “So fuckin’ cute.” His hips piston into yours just right, nailing that spot again and again as he fucks you into the couch.

“Fuck, Sugu!” you cry, gripping his broad shoulders. “Please go faster! Fuck me faster, sir!” His handsome face flushed and black strands of hair falling in his face, Geto gives you what he wants. He sits up and grips your fleshy thighs before pumping his cock deeper and faster into you, causing the sounds of your moans to grow louder.

If anyone were to be outside of the office right now, they would immediately know what’s going down in Mr. Geto Suguru’s office. The sound of sex–grunts, moans, whimpers, couch springs bouncing, skin slapping against skin–is way too obvious to pass it off as something else. The idea of that makes you wetter and tighter around Geto’s cock. It makes him damn near insane.

Unable to control himself any longer, his big hands move under your ass to pull you to him.

He then sits up with you and slowly stands, lifting you up with him. You gasp, gripping onto him tight like a cobra, and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey. Don’t worry, just hold onto me.” You do so as he walks over to his office window, the glittering lights of the city gleaming back at you. He slowly puts you down and wordlessly stares at you, his gaze dark and oh-so seductive.

You don’t have to ask what he wants. Immediately, you turn around and place your hands on the cold glass of the window, sticking your ass out for him. “Damn, I didn’t even have to tell you to assume the position,” he chuckles. “I guess you’re feenin’ too.” His hand caresses your asscheeks, his thick fingers massaging them.

You look down at the streets below, seeing people walking their dogs and having a night out on the town. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the idea of having sex in front of a window where anyone could look up and see you makes you wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. And nobody would ever know that it’s your boss giving you such good dick.

Your coherent thoughts are pushed to the back when Geto slaps his cock up against your asscheeks and then sinks himself back into your pussy. “Shit, baby!” he hisses, immediately going back to railing you. “You’re tighter than before.”

You whine in response as he grips your hips, pumping himself into you like you’re no more than a toy. A fleshlight. His personal sex object. It’s so dirty. So wrong.

And yet it feels so, so good. You can’t deny how much you enjoy his thick cock stretching you out and sending sparks of pleasure throughout your brain. How much you love the sweet ache in your knees and your body. How much you love the way he makes your tits and ass jiggle as he fucks you.

Speaking of ass, Geto is a fiend for it, staring at the way it shakes and jiggles as he fucks your pussy. “I need to see this ass bounce for me,” he shudderingly groans, giving your ass a harsh smack. You gasp at the sting, the nasty act of it making your pussy throb around him.

“Do that again!” you whine and he does, the pain mixing with the pleasure as he sinks his cock back into you again and again, going deeper and deeper each time. You have to brace yourself against the window the more he pounds into you, going so fast that he could damn well put a pornstar to shame with his stamina. “Fuck, Sugu, yes!” you sob. “Y-Yeah, just like that, fuck me just like that!”

“Fuck me back, babydoll,” he demands. “Work for that cum, c’mon. Be a good secretary for me.” You do so, pressing into your heels and tossing your ass back into him. “God, that’s it!” he moans, giving you another spank as a reward. “I’ve always dreamed of fucking you like this. Always wanted to see you like this.”

You want to tell him the same, but your tongue is tied, the pleasure making you crazy as you begin to frantically rub your clit. You can quickly feel that knot in your stomach about to snap the more he fucks you. You feel him press himself against you, pushing you into the window. You gasp as the cold glass touches your bare, brown tits pushed against the window while Geto’s big, rock-hard body pushes against your back.

“You wanna cum with me, babydoll?” he pants into your ear. “Tell me. Tell me you wanna cum with me.”

You can feel the wetness begin to drip down your thighs and stain his balls, no doubt getting on the floor. “Tell me you want me to give you my cum,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me where the fuck you want it.”

Somehow, you find the words to speak and scream out, “Yes! Yes, sir, I want your cum! Do it on me, please! I don’t care where! Just please, please cum with me!”

That just about makes Geto snap. He turns your face and tongue kisses you, his lips and mouth tasting like a night of champagne. You don’t speak as he continues to rail you, chasing his orgasm at full speed and taking you along for the ride.

When you both finally cum, you do so together. He manages to pull out of you quickly and pumps his cum all over your plump, soft, perfect ass while you do so onto his hand, his fingers replacing yours.

Swears, sobs, and moans leave your lips as you’re finally released like a genie in a bottle, your orgasm hitting you dead on. It drains all of the energy out of you, making your knees buckle and your body feel weak.

“I’ve got you,” Geto softly says, hugging you to him from the back. “Just melt into me, mama. It’s okay.”

Deliriously and happily, you smile, doing as he says. You loop an arm around his head, bringing him closer to you. You don’t ever want to leave his arms. You want to stay like this forever, pressed against him in his office, while the rest of the world turns and moves outside. At some point, you both sink onto the floor and just stay there for a while, silence descending onto you.

Once the pleasurable fog of your orgasm fades, the concrete realization hits you like a truck: you just had sex with your boss. Geto seems to know what you’re thinking though and turns your face towards his. “Tell me how you feel,” he tells you, his eyes firm but soft. “Listen, I don’t want you to regret what we did, Y/N, ‘cause I don’t. This was real for me.”

He bites on his bottom lip, looking flushed and nervous. You’ve never seen him look like that before. “I know this was a lot, but if you want, I’d like to turn this into something more. But it’s all up to you.” You blink at him, wondering if he’s serious. He continues to hold that firm yet nervous look, his eyes hopeful.

After sex like that, you’d be crazy to say no! You place a hand on his cheek and move in to kiss him softly. He accepts the kiss, his lips dancing with yours before you pull away. “I’m ready to try if you are, sir,” you softly answer. “But dinner would be nice.”

Geto begins to laugh and kisses your hand. “Of course,” he chuckles, sounding relieved. “You like Italian? Or maybe ramen? I know this place that just opened that–”

Knock, knock, knock! Quickly, Geto places himself in front of you, blocking you from whoever is at his office door. Fear jumps inside of you, making your stomach churn. “I thought you said nobody was here!” you hiss.

“There isn’t,” he whispers. “Or there wasn’t supposed to be.” He clears his throat, giving a clear, short, “Yes?”

“Brooo, it’s me!” Gojo shouts through the door. “I think I dropped my wallet in here! Can ya let me in?” Geto turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you think, babydoll?” he asks. “Should we let my friend in?”

You don’t know why you say yes or why your pussy throbs despite having just orgasmed twice, but Geto gives Gojo the okay and he comes waltzing into the office. At the sight of his best friend and his personal secretary sitting naked on the floor in their afterglow, Gojo’s blue eyes widen in shock…

And then they grow hooded with lust. “Well, well,” he chuckles. “It’s about fuckin’ time.”

He begins to loosen his tie, giving you a flirty smile. “I hope it ain’t too much to ask if I can join, babe.”

THE END.

Fan Art by @almaadst

#commission fill #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #suguru aka sugar #suguru geto x plus sized!reader #boss/employee relationship #office romance

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novantinuum · 1 day

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Pink Onyx AU- An Analysis and Theory Post, Part 1

[Part 1- You are here!] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5]

Howdy! Those of you who have followed me for a while have probably been seeing my reblogs of the @pink-onyx-au comic made by @ceephorsshitshow. Well, today I wanna share with you something a little different than my usual SU meta… because today I’m gonna analyze this really cool fan work with the same level of seriousness as I do canon. (Like. Seriously. This first post alone is really, really long. I put most of it under a cut.)

This particular comic is a very special one for me to watch unfold, because it’s evident that a lot of deep care and attention to detail has been poured into its creation. There’s fascinating bits of expanded character development to chew into here, as well as plenty of mysteries and lingering questions for us readers to muse and theorize over. If you follow me for Steven Universe and haven’t read this AU yet I highly recommend you check it out. The most basic pitch is that it explores what a fusion between Steven and Jasper might look like, and does a LOT of deep-diving into the similarities and differences of both of those characters’ psyches.

Here’s the episode masterpost on tumblr.

And you can find it on Tapas, too!

(Note: For the purposes of these posts, I was given permission by the comic artist to post screenshots of various pages where relevant in this discussion. For each frame used I will list the episode and page number for easy reference. Additionally, this post and all future ones on the topic will contain full spoilers for the comic thus far.)

Now with all that introductory stuff out of the way, here we go!

So, on the final page of the most recent update, we get one hell of a visual plot bomb for Steven as ol’ Onyx unfuses:

(Episode 9: Page 22)

He’s now visually expressing remnants of his corruption, where before he was not.

And it’s this mysterious plot point in particular that got me wanting to analyze this comic more deeply in the first place. This is completely new for him in this story. Thus far, he’s never expressed any of these remnants when he’s just himself- not in the way Jasper does. So it made me wonder… how might this shift in his appearance play into the ultimate trajectory of the plot? How does Steven suddenly showcasing corruption scars integrate into the larger story that is being spun here about him and Jasper and how they relate to each other?

Well, there’s a lot of comic details and story lore we need to unpack first before I can take my best theorizer’s stab at this. Let’s dig right in.

Prelude: The analyst’s treasure is in the speech bubbles

Anyone who’s been a fan of this comic for a while has probably noticed these fun visual details already, but I’m going to take a moment to break down what I believe each speech bubble style signifies for folks who may not have context. It’ll make some of my analysis later a bit easier, too, ahah.

So. Speech bubbles. What kinds do we have here?

(Episode 1: Page 6)

Style number one: Solid with black text

This style is standard for non-fused characters, and is also utilized when a fused character is speaking whilst in a state of internal harmony.

Steven is pink and Jasper is orange, of course. Onyx’s speech bubbles are a distinct darker pink, and the main three Crystal Gems get their own colors as well. More minor characters get white bubbles.

(Episode 1: Page 10)

Style number two: Scribbly pink lettering overlaying black text

Whenever you see this type of speech bubble, it’s a sign that there is some level of internal discord going on within Steven or Onyx that is related to their diamond side. It usually shows up when one of the two is in pink mode, but from what I can tell this is not a solid rule.

(Episode 2: Page 12)

Style number three: Pink/orange mixed bubbles

This is how we see Onyx talking for a good portion of the early comic. Their speech bubbles are a clean mix of Steven’s pink and Jasper’s orange. And most vitally, the color on the top and the tail signifies which of them is “fronting” at that moment.

(Episode 3: Page 11)

Style number four: White bubble with solid pink text

So far, this style has only been used to represent dialogue that is being spoken by Steven’s gem half exclusively. Which makes things very interesting, as in Steven’s own remembrances of shattering Jasper on the very first page of the comic, the line “I have been holding back!” is shown in this specific style, instead of the scribbly pink lettering that signifies internal discord.

There is one additional sub-style here- and this is the one moment where we get Onyx’s mixed bubble but WITH the solid pink text.

(Episode 3: Page 11)

I believe these two styles pretty much mean the same thing… only, the white/pink text is either viewed within memory or a metaphoric fusion mindscape where we the viewer are actually “seeing” Steven’s instability, and thus can “see” his gem half as a separate entity there. While, in reality, this is an argument Onyx is having with the disparate pieces of themself.

(Episode 4: Page 9)

Style number five: Pink/orange tye-dye mixed bubbles

When you see that darker shade of pink start dappling into the standard mixed bubbles, this indicates that there are small whispers of Onyx’s true personality beginning to surface, instead of them constantly being wrested back and forth between Steven and Jasper’s conscious control.

(Episode 4: Page 16)

Style number six: Pink/orange mixed bubbles, but with a darker pink tail

From this page onwards, Onyx’s speech bubbles always have their darker pink shading the tail no matter who is fronting. Sometimes there are little lines of another color etched out of it, and sometimes the tail is solid dark pink. I like to believe that when it’s solid, it means that Onyx is just a little closer to reaching a fully harmonious state than when it’s not.

(Episode 9: Page 6)

Style number seven: Onyx speech/thought bubbles with a hint of pink/orange underlying

This style seems to signify moments where it’s still Onyx fully in control of themself and their actions/words/thoughts, but they’re taking subtle influence from their components or accessing their memory a bit.

These are all of the distinct styles I have caught so far, but quite honestly, it would not surprise me if I am missing something. All of this to say… pay close attention to the speech bubbles. They can tell you a lot about Onyx’s state of mind throughout the story.

Now with all this established, I’d like to finish off this first post with my first big discussion point.

Question One: What does Jasper actually know about Steven’s “meltdown,” if anything?

The AU author recently solidified this comic’s placement in the SUF timeline in an ask response, saying that the first episode takes place just a week after Steven’s corruption event.

I’m glad this point was clarified, because it was super vital information which deeply influenced the way I analyzed Steven’s actions and responses in my recent re-read… it means this experience is still super raw for him. This is VERY important and we’ll get back to this in more depth later in future posts. But first, let’s explore what Jasper knows of this event.

The full extent of her knowledge is unclear-

(Episode 1: Page 6)

In Episode 1, Steven briefly alludes to his corruption as seen above… referring to it as “[his] meltdown.” Notably, Jasper does not seem to ask any questions about this stray comment. This COULD suggest that she knows what happened to him a week prior via hearsay, but given the context of the rest of the scene and the fact that she’s as isolated as she is out here I genuinely wonder if she thinks Steven’s so-described “meltdown” is his shattering of her.

This idea would make a good deal of sense, as she doesn’t start to make any commentary on the topic of corruption at all until they’re actually fused- with Steven bringing it up first.

(Episode 2: Page 14)

On this page, Steven takes note of Onyx’s very visible spikes (which are Overtly in the same placement as his own when he was corrupted), and initiates the musing upon his own corruption himself.

With the way Jasper phrases her response, the vibe I get is that she somehow gleans a bit of ambient shared knowledge about what happened to him through their fusion.

(Episode 2: Page 15)

“That human form you wear must have been hiding your markings.” This quote is SUPER vital. We’ll come back to this later on in this post series, too.

(Episode 2: Page 15)

It’s clear that Jasper doesn’t REALLY understand what he went through or what caused it, since she then outright mistakes the casual woes and body pains of organic life as corruption. (As seen above.)

(Episode 8: Page 4)

But later on, she outright relates to him over their shared experience of past corruption, so she must at least know enough from mere ambient thought-sharing by this point to recognize it happened.

It’s obvious that she’s barely scratched the surface on fully understanding her fusion partner, though. Neither of them have. It’s gonna take a lot of fusion, comedic mishaps, and genuine conversation to get there. All in good time, I’m sure.

Please do join me tomorrow at 7am PST for the next post in this series! This has been a blast to write up and muse upon.

#su #su future #steven universe #jasper #pink onyx #su meta #pink onyx au #my post stuff

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tinydefector · 1 day

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Hello, may I please request Jazz or Soundwave with a G/N human for your energy fluid au and their human so decides- hey, alien robot boyfriend deserves the succ? This can be before or after knowing it tastes of energy drinks, thank you for reading my ask.

Taste like a Rockstar energyfluid AU

Jazz x human

Note: Link to Soundwave's

So I've only got Jazz in this one but will be posting the Soundwave one next. Just I've been bust packing to move house, so a lot of my stuff is going to be a lot slower until I finally get sent up in the new house in the next week or so. But Soundwave one will get posted next once I've finished editing it, but I wanted to get this part posted tonight and will link the soundwave own to this once it's finished.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings; smut, oral fixation, blowjobs, Energy Fluid AU

______________

A set of eyes linger on Jazz as the bot goes about his business. Their hands pressed under their chin. "Baby what are you doing?" They call out.

Jazz smirked subtly at their lounging form across his hab suite. "Just some routine maintenance, sweetspark," he replied cheerily, sauntering over.

Collapsing onto a berth in a languid sprawl, Jazz flashed a roguish grin. "What's gotcha down, little light? Need some quality time with your mech?" His field pulsed flirtatious, one hand teasing up their side in practised caresses. Leaning in till his vented air brushes against their skin, Jazz murmured tantalisingly.

"I know just the thing to chase away the blues," he purred, nipping the shell of their ear. And Jazz aimed to savour every moment, coaxing giggles from them. They laughed as he pulled them closer. "JAZZ omg you dirty Bot!" They laugh while kissing him.

Jazz flashed a saucy grin against your lips, mischief flicker across his visor. "Aww c'mon sweetspark, you know you love it," he teased, swiftly flipping their thrashing forms.

Trapping wrists above amid peals of laughter, Jazz smirked down at their flushed form. His engine rumbled approval, frame tingling where they wrestled against his immovable grips.

"Now where were we?" Jazz mused aloud, relishing their laughter and kisses. Leaning in till breaths mingled, he whispered temptingly, "Was it...here?" Metal lips trailed ticklish along their jaw, pausing to playfully nibble sensitive zones wrung gasps and halfhearted protests.

"Mmm Jazz!" They whine out. Jazz chuckled warmly against their neck, engine revving at the music of his name upon soft lips. His field pulsed ardent waves, fingers kneading plating alike skilled hands upon a well-worn instrument.

"That's it sweetride, sound heavenly for me," Jazz purred between nuzzling kisses, hydraulics subtly readjusting to nestle closer still. His very struts thrummed in time to their quickening heartbeat. Every shiver, hitching vent, soft gasp and rumbles from theirs and Jazz’ own frame. His lover grew ever more receptive to each gentle glide of his servos, turning them into putty.

It was in such intimacy Jazz found home with them. As much as they enjoyed it they slowly pulled away. "Mmm wanna try something" they state while resting on his lap as he lounges back on the berth. Their hands slowly tracing over his chassis and tanks.

Jazz arched a brow ridge curiously, venting softly. Visor locked with their dancing gaze, patiently waiting as their minds worked through myriad potentials. "Sure thing sweetspark," he replied easily. As Jazz relaxed pliant against the berth, guiding them by the hips softly.

"I'm all yours, little light. whatcha got in mind?" Jazz asked.

They move slowly to be between Jazz' thighs looking up at him. "Can I give you a Blowjob, heard something from Astoria and wanted to see if its true." They state with a smile. Their hands running along the metal of his thighs.Jazz blinked in mild surprise, It makes him wonder what powerglides partner has told them.

"Well now, wouldn't mind findin out for myself," Jazz replied, frame buzzing with pleasant anticipation. "Gonna show this mech some new tricks? Have at it, sweetspark. I'm all yours t'enlighten." Jazz teases giving their back an eager squeeze. Their hands come over his interface panel. Teasing along the seams. "Gonna open this up for me?" They hum as their eyes flick back to meet his visor. They slowly run their tongue along the edge of the panel.

Jazz exvented a shuddered vent as their tongue traced the sensitive seams, cooling fans whirring at the electrifying promise mere touches awoke. His frame sang readiness. Retracting his interface panelling granting full access for his human, baring his spike, Lubricant tingled lines eager.

Their breath alone elicited trickles of transfluid leaking between swollen nodes, pressurised lines aching for contact. His field pulsed in rolling waves of want, engine revving in anticipation. "That's it sweetspark, you got it," Jazz rasped encouragingly, digits flexing against the berth in self-restraint from tugging their head down to take him into their mouth..

They laugh softly at how needy Jazz seemed to be, their hand finding his spike as they kiss the tip, running kisses against the length of it. Eyes widening slightly as they lap at the small amount of trans fluid leaking from him. "Oh my God it's true what Astoria said!" they state almost in disbelief before their eyes shoot to his valve. Jazz ventilations grow ragged, valve clinching emptily.

"Primus, sweetspark...what did she tell ya?” he asked through a shaky breath. They run their tongue along his valve before answering. "She told me that when she and Powerglide got it on, his transfluid apparently tasted like an energy drink. And I wanted to see if she was lying" they hum before lapping at his valve again, hand slowly working his spike as they took in his sweet taste. "She wasn't lying you taste like a Rockstar" they giggle

Jazz gasped and moaned loudly, spike pressurising even harder at erotic notions of their wet tongue delving previously unknown valving. "Yer makin' this mech feel brand new, t'drive m'circuits crazy like this?" Jazz gasped a static-laced tone as they worked his valve and spike.

Their lips eagerly work against him, lapping up the transfluid leaking down his spike before moving right back to his valve eating him out as if it were Their last meal. "Come on Jazzy '' they tease as their other hand comes up to tease the nodes of his valve.

Their greedy mouth alone elicited gushes transfluid threatened to drown keen sensors, His frame arches desperately, valve clenching pathetically against nothing. Jazz threw his helm back with a static-laced cry as their greedy mouth wrapped around his spike, transfluid gushing unchecked splattering across their skin. His form short circuits overload, frame bucking almost violently Every flick of their bold tongue and graze of probing digits sent charge scorching circuits near rupture, dragging drawn-out overloads from the very brink of sanity.

"Frag, sweetspark-! You're gonna drain me dry!" Jazz gasped pleadingly, gripping berth till plating dented beneath his uncaring grip. Slick pink fluid flowed in unchecked floods to greet their lip, chest and arms. Jazz keened a static-laced cry, valve spasming helplessly against the divine torment of their ravenous mouth.

"Frag-! Gonna make this mech melt down if ya keep that up, sweetspark!" Jazz pleaded through clenched dentae. They laugh softly against his spike as they slowly take it into their mouth fingers pressing into his valve as they work him up for an overload. "Taste so good Jazz, please want some more" they coo, a flicker of Mischief in their eyes.

Jazz keenly cried out again, desperate pleas dissolving into static-laced nonsense as their sinful mouth engulfed his weeping spike once more. greedy swallowing and teasing.

"Y-you'll be the death of me, sweetspark..." Jazz gasped raggedly, ventilation cycling uselessly, "But what a way t'go...a-ain't never felt nothin' like it!"

His spike pulsed desperate spurts transfluid. Their lips eagerly lap up the bright transfluid, it coats their fingers and runs down the side of their lips as they now work on cleaning him of the mess. "Enjoy that baby?" They ask with a smirk across their painted lips as they look up at him.

Jazz exvented raggedly, entire sensornet singed raw in the aftermath of your ravaging ministrations. "Making this mech melt down inta a puddle a parts, ya deviant thing," Jazz rasped affectionately through a loopy grin, too blasted to form a decent sentence. They are quick to crawl back up his form. Pressing their lips to his in a kiss, fingers caressing his helm. "Sooo... interest in doing that again in the future?" They hum against his lips

He vented a soft laughter, sated systems buzzing pleasantly in the afterglow. "Mmm, more de happy to do that again" Jazz rumbled in a contented reply. His visor dimming tiredly with warm amusement, "Think I just might be addicted t'you, sweetspark."

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cybersteal · 1 day

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨: 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕪

Tagged by @dreamskug and subsequently ripped off inspired by his, @lokiina’s, @nightcityace’s & @arcandoria’s creative take on it.

V: Hey, sorry I’m- Interviewer: Late? V: Only by thirty minutes, can't be that big of a deal. Interviewer: Maybe it is-

V: Okay, well, I'm here now, on a Friday night, instead of drinking myself stupid like I wish I was. Go ahead and ask your questions.

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ:

V: V. Interviewer: That’s it? V: Yup.

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ:

V: Male.

ꜱᴛᴀʀ ꜱɪɢɴ:

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ:

V: Six feet. Interviewer: Actually? V: Does this look like a face that would lie to you?

ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

V: You first. Interviewer: Excuse me? V: Hah! Relax, choom, just trying to lighten the mood! Jeez. I’m Pan. Equal opportunity for all. Mostly me.

ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ / ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄɪᴛʏ:

V: I was born in SoCal, but my parents are both from Mexico. I have a…complicated relationship with my Latino heritage, since it wasn’t really somethin’ that my parents took the time to share with me in detail, or my siblings. Never had the chance to ask why, but after comin’ to Night City, I realized I kinda missed out on a lot growing up.

ᴅᴏɢ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ:

V: Well, I have a cat at home. One of those hairless ones. But I did always want a dog. Interviewer: Oh? What kind? V: Xoloitzcuintli.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛ, ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ, ꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ:

V: Whoa, whoa, slow down, Jesus. Uhh…first one was-? Interviewer: Fruit. V: Right. I like grapes. The purple ones. Interviewer: Why purple? V: Shit, I dunno. They taste better? Interviewer: Heh. Yeah, fair enough. Season? V: I love summer. Life slows down a little, people take more time to relax. I don’t mind the heat, neither, ‘cause I can just go for a swim whenever, or go for a drive with the windows down. Cools me just fine. Interviewer: Preem. V: I like those orange poppy’s that grow all over the Badlands. California poppy’s I think they’re called.

Interviewer: And for your favorite scent? V: Right – probably amber. I've used the same brand of amber-heavy cologne for years. Oh, and I really like that one specific brand of tobacco my mom smoked. Interviewer: What brand was that? V: Can’t recall. Somethin’ imported.

ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ, ᴛᴇᴀ ᴏʀ ʜᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ:

V: Coffee. Double shot. Sometimes triple, if I’m doin’ a long gig. Interviewer: Christ. V: Hey, merc work ain’t easy. It’s that or synthcoke. Interviewer: I’m scared to ask the next question…

ᴀᴠᴇʀᴀɢᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ:

V: Yikes…like 5? If I’m lucky. Interviewer: I’m not at all surprised. V: The fuck is that supposed to mean?

ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴀɴᴋᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ:

V: No, no. Hold on. I wanna know why you’re not surprised. Do I got bags under my eyes or somethin’? Interviewer: Actually, no. V: Nova. Interviewer: You got suitcases.

V: You’re fine, choom. I appreciate the banter. I don’t need to sleep with any blankets though. Interviewer: Really? Why not?

V: Sub-dermal armor. Got a bunch of other stuff you can’t see as well – keeps me runnin' hot, all the time.

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴛʀɪᴘ:

V: Aw, shit. There’s so many places. If I had to pick, I guess…Havana. Interviewer: Cuba. You into history? V: Nah, choom. Beaches.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ:

V: Mad Max. Interviewer: You don’t think that’s a little…stereotypical? V: Does it look like I care? Me and my sister used to pretend we were members of the MFP and annoy the hell out of our brother. I called him nothin' but Toecutter for two years. He hated it.

ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ:

V: If you lick a person’s elbow when they’re not looking, they won’t feel it. Interviewer: …huh. Misty: Oh, V… V: It was the first thing that popped into my head, okay, I panicked-

This was a lot of fun to make tbqh. He's such a gonk - that ADHD brain keeps him moving around and fidgeting 24/7 even without the help of caffeine or stims and boosters, and he can talk about himself for hours, the narcissistic dickhead.

Shoutout to my bestest choombatta @klept0kid you deserve to have your name attached to your masterpiece lmao.

tags: @chooh2 @pinkyjulien @meltingangels @ouroboros-hideout @ne0n-rust @netripper @wilxfyre @klept0kid @glitchinginthegarden @nightcxty @shimmer-like-agirl @noirapocalypto @katsigian @wanderingaldecaldo @cyberpunkaddict @elvenbeard @wraithsoutlaws

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk photomode #oc: vice de'angelo #my screenshots #he zoomin! look at him go waow #i wish i had that much energy jfc #i am now dragging myself to bed because this took me (and klept0) all day #hopefully all my fuckin tags work this time or i will be very cross 😡

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zaynmirrors · 3 days

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A/N: Back again with another chapter, I have a playlist if you guys are interested! If you wanna be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Also unsure if if this will have the upside down cause I feel like it's hard with Jovie. Taglist is open!

Eddie Munson x Mom! Reader.

TW: Children

Chapter 2

When Eddie awoke, he noted the missing weight on his chest but wasn’t concerned figuring her mother had taken her from him sometime in the night, or at this point: morning.

He didn’t hear the quiet padding on the carpet as Jovie made her way back to him. Eddie had easily become her next favorite person. He was something new, she liked new.

She stared at him as Eddie lay with his eyes still closed. “Leave him be Jovie,” y/n said softly, careful to not wake Eddie who unbeknownst to her was already awake.

“Mama, make breakfast?” The tiny being asked, not at all quiet. Eddie heard y/n snort and found it to be the most adorable sound. She answered the child too quietly for Eddie’s ears to pick up but heard them or at least y/n retreat into the kitchen.

“Dude get up,” Mike said nudging Eddie’s feet. Eddie quickly flipped off the wheeler boy and opened his eyes, wincing when the light hit them. Mike was flipping Eddie off as he sat up. “Very nice Wheeler,” Eddie says rolling eyes.

Jovie gasped as she heard his voice, and padded her way over to him leaving her mother in the kitchen. “Like breakfast?” She asked him, grabbing his attention with her broken speech.

He smiled at her. Taking in her pigtails and almost too-long tee. “Oh man I love breakfast” Eddie wasn’t sure where this came from: The sudden knowledge of how to say things to the tiny being.

Jovie held out her hand, and Eddie offered his much larger one. Her small hand wrapped around just two of his fingers and pulled on him. This action only barely jerked his arm instead of pulling him up like she had planned.

Eddie stood, letting her lead the way. Y/n stood at the counter whisking what looked to be eggs with a fork in a large porcelain blue bowl. "Help yourselves" she spoke not looking up from her task of whisking.

Eddie grabbed a plate and made one for Jovie seeing as the other teens were piling food on their own plates, not bothering to leave enough for the child. Once he piled food onto her plate he then stared at the plastic baby blue highchair. "How the f-" he stopped himself short, "How does she get in this thing" he asked, terrified to break the foreign technology.

y/n came and slipped the child in as if it were nothing then just resumed making breakfast for the ravenous teen boys. "Thank you for feeding her" She offered Eddie a smile that sent a fuzzy feeling into his stomach.

"She probably wouldn't get to eat otherwise" Eddie joked, y/n laughed. He prayed to any god that she wouldn’t see the blush that spread across his face.

“You’re probably right” she smiled. Her smile quickly faltered as she concentrated, mind mulling over her next words. Her lips pursed as she spoke, “I have an extra ticket to go see this band, would you consider going?” He blinks, taken aback but she just continues before he can speak “My friend flaked and you look like you would enjoy Crusader”

“Wait, you have tickets to see Crusader?” He asks, more in awe that she even knew who Crusader was, she definitely wasn’t that type of girl, at least he thought she wasn’t.

“Yes, I just asked you to go with me” she shot back. Even her sarcasm was attractive to him, “can you hear under all that hair?” This was a tease, one that got him to smile.

“When is it?” He asked. He then learned it was Saturday at seven. He felt like this was an easy decision. Eddie had been dying to see this band. "Works for me"

They talked details, deciding y/n was going to drive. She’d also pick him up being as she would already be out dropping Jovie off with the babysitter. Eddie was very excited for this Saturday.

“Hey, are you ready to have some fun?” Steve asked the tiny girl who stood in front of him unamused at his overly excited tone. He glances up at y/n and says, “tough crowd”

The joke caused a snort to sound from y/n. “I don't know how fun she’ll be, she didn’t sleep well.” Steve offers a sympathetic smile and holds out hands to pick up the tiny human.

Jovie waddles her way into his arms, he squeezes her to him and lifts her into the air. Steve’s careful to sling her on his hip. Once she was settled he held his free arm out for the diaper bag. Which y/n placed on his shoulder.

“Have fun, y/n, you deserve it” he says, offering her a small smile while bouncing the child on his hip.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” she said to both Steve and her child but going to give her child a kiss on the cheek. “Bye Steve!” She called as she walked out the door and to her car.

She sat a moment in the car contemplating this excursion. Y/n did not want to be away from her baby, in fact this was the first time she’d be leaving her. It was not sitting well.

Y/n turned the key, igniting the ignition and back out of the parking spot. If only she hadn’t promised Eddie a ticket. She’d turn right back around.

The drive to pick up Eddie was short, he had waited on her at the edge of the road. Not wanting the embarrassment of her seeing where he lived, though he guessed everyone knew.

“Hey!” She beamed as he got into the passenger side of the car. “You excited?”

“Hell yeah!” He was beyond excited. This band was a local legend. He aspired to follow in their footsteps. “Let’s go” Pulling off the side of the road, they began their journey.

Chapter 3

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adiralovespercyjackson · 2 days

Note

hi can u pls write a book percy x daughter of persephone based on i hate it here by taylor swift. where the reader has a secret garden that percy finds pls

Secret gardens in my mind.

Percy Jackson x Persephone!reader

Ofc since you said pls I actually have only listened to ‘I hate it here’ a few times and had to listen to it a bit before writing this so sorry if it’s not perfect, ask me if you wanna redo it :P

Also, this I kinda short :/

Warning: fluff/angst?? and minor swearing

On the radio:

Percy was just going on a walk in the woods. Nothing special. He was just going to clear his head after having to deal with 3 campers who were all arguing about 9/11— it’s a long story. It was late dusk and you could only see a few stars when you looked up at the sky. He walked a bit more, going deeper into the forest. Everything was going normal until he saw little stepping stones going into a path, candles lit the way.

“Hello?” He called out, wondering if anyone was there. Nothing. He followed the path into a beautiful garden. It had so many times of plants that it was like the dictionary for plants. In the middle of it all was a beautiful girl with a flower crown, singing to the plants as they magically grew. He just stared for a bit and listened to her angelic singing. She finally noticed him and practically jumped. “Gods! You…scared…me…!” She said, catching her breath. “Sorry, your voice is beautiful!” He said, smiling lopsidedly. “And what is this place anyway?” She smiled softly and handed him a flower, walking over to a tree and sitting under it. “My secret garden.” She said, looking him in the eye. “I’m a daughter of Persephone, this is my happy place, my escape.” Percy nodded, playing with the purple rose in his hand. “You- your garden is very gorgeous,” he said, smiling at you and looking around.

"Thanks. I come here when I get tired of the real world. It's sad, really, but I hate it out there. Why should demigods have to live like this because of the gods stupid mistakes?" she said, a flower slightly wilting before she instantly made it healthier. Gods, please no. Not her... Never again. Percy instantly got reminded of Luke. And he never wanted to go through that again, especially with a girl so gorgeous like her. "That's true, but instead of hating the gods for their mistakes, I would thank them. For letting me meet you." he sat down on a bench next to you. "That's...awful poetic. Child of Apollo?" she asked. Percy chuckled and sideways smirked, "Son of Poseidon at your service." she nodded. "So that's why you smell like seaweed and salt water." Percy shrugged. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

Percy just stared into her eyes for a bit. "I get it though, the world's annoying. Bleh." he fake gagged. She giggled and all the nearby flowers instantly had an aura around them, healthy and happy. "I never caught your name," she observed. "I never threw it." he answered, smiling and kissing her hand, "Percy Jackson." "I'm Y/n," she blushed.

"That's a gorgeous name."

"Thank you."

He smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "Why don't you come back to camp with me and we can hang out in my cabin?" he asked. "Sure, why not?" you replied. So you guys walked back to camp, not forgetting to blow out the candles before your departure.

Maybe the real world wasn't so bad. When your with someone you love, I mean.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #persephone #percy x Persephone!reader #taylor swift #request

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hauntedppgpaints · 2 days

Text

round one.

the start of the post round one win bruins orgy. E. 832 words.

It’s Linus that starts it.

Of course it’s Linus.

Everyone is jittery as they undress after a win- the adrenaline shaking itself out of their systems in the only way it knows how. Trembling hands, shaky inhales, wide eyes taking in the rest of the boys acting exactly the same. It’s even worse during the playoffs, it’s even worse when it’s a series win, it’s even worse when it’s a game seven win.

The locker room is loud with their elation. Shouts of various nicknames and high praise, requests for assistance when one pair of shaky hands isn’t helping get out of equipment. The focus is on Hampus and Pasta. And on Jeremy. So many hair ruffles, head bumps, shoulder slaps.

Jeremy thinks his shoulder is going numb from all the slaps.

It’s once everyone has stripped down to base layers and started making motions towards showering that Linus stands. He stands suddenly, startling a few people, and turns to box Jeremy into his stall, plopping down into the younger goalie’s lap without a word.

Jeremy’s hands instinctively go to Linus’ waist, steadying him. “Ully?” Jeremy asks, smiling at his partner. “Ready to go shower, bud?”

Linus’ eyes go half-lidded, dropping from Jeremy’s eyes down to his mouth, then back up again. Linus smiles, slow and cat-like, and without a word, leans in and presses his lips to Jeremy’s mouth.

Jeremy makes a little sound of shock, and tightens his grip on Linus’ waist. It takes him a moment to get with the program, but with a small groan, he opens his mouth under Linus’, slipping his tongue into his partner’s mouth.

They make out to the soundtrack of several teammates heckling them, barking and howling at them in jest. A while passes with a lot of tongue, but they eventually separate.

Jeremy’s chest is heaving. His pupils are blown wide. There’s an obvious bulge in his base layer underwear, that’s rubbing up against the one in Linus’. There’s a thin strand of saliva still connecting their lips, but it breaks as Linus sits up. Jeremy already misses it.

“Wanna thank you for how good you were for us. I think all of us do. Right, boys?” He turns to address the room. Jeremy shakes his head, trying to clear the fog, and glances around Linus to see the rest of their teammates. Holy shit.

A few of them have Pasta surrounded. Someone- Jeremy thinks it’s Marchy- is sitting in his lap, making out with him like he and Linus had been. Cheeks and Monte are on either side of him, mouths attached to his neck and giving him, what Jeremy assumes will be, mirrored hickies.

At the sound of Linus’ voice, they all separate, and the goalie gets several affirmative noises from everyone. Jeremy blushes even harder, shifting under Linus’ weight. “What-?”

Linus swings back around, cutting off everyone’s gaze on Jeremy. It’s just the two of them, secluded in his stall now. “We want to thank you. I want to suck you off, right here, in front of them. If that’s okay.” Linus explains. “I’m sure the others do, too.”

“You-” Jeremy’s breath hitches, and he squirms again. Christ, he’s hard. “You want to- right here? In front of-”

Linus nods, and runs his hands down Jeremy’s flank to rest them at his waist. “And depending on how many times you can come, some of the others do, too. Pat, for sure. Marchy. Charlie.” He’s- god, he’s listing off teammates that want to suck him off.

“Please.” Jeremy croaks. “Please, please-”

Linus quickly gets a hand on the side of Jeremy’s face, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. The other hand slides down further, skating along the waistband of his underwear. “Easy, easy- I’ve got you, Sway.” He murmurs. Jeremy turns his face into Linus’ hand, presses a kiss to the palm, and then sucks the thumb into his mouth with a low sound. Linus watches, entranced, as Jeremy’s lips wrap around his thumb obscenely. A few moments pass like that, before Linus tugs his thumb back, and stands up.

He then kneels down, gently prying Jeremy’s knees apart, and knee-walks between them. A hush falls across the room, and Jeremy can see that everyone is watching. Holy shit, his teammates are going to watch his partner suck him off.

Linus reaches up to his waistband again, and actually starts peeling off Jeremy’s underwear. Jeremy groans when his cock is finally freed, bobbing in the air briefly before slapping up against his stomach. Linus gets the underwear off all the way, tossing them aside, before shuffling in closer. He wraps a hand around the base of Jeremy’s cock, giving a few test pumps, before leaning up and wrapping his lips around the tip.

“F-Fuck!” Jeremy grunts, hips kicking up into the warm, wet heat of Linus’ mouth. “Fuck, Ully…”

Linus looks up at him through his lashes, raises an eyebrow, and sucks him down, tip to root, in one move.

#warden speaks #warden writes #bruins #linus ullmark #jeremy swayman #swaymark #goalies

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to-thelakes · 2 days

Text

you got me (1)

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

series summary; after like may have, slightly, accidentally said you were his girlfriend (you weren't), you reluctantly play along and attend an infamous david rossi pasta night. however, your feelings for each other may not be as fake as you want them to be.

series warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, smut (so much, after a few parts), mutual pining, sexual tension, mostly unedited (im a uni student, sue me)

warnings for this part; fluff, reader is interrogated by the team, mild hurt/comfort, reader is anxious, some backstory

notes; okay hello! i know i should really finish built to fall (it's actually not too far from being done) but the lovely @smurfenijsje12 has sent me so many asks (i love them all) and i've decided to use them to make a little smutty series (or not really little bc it'll be quite long). this is just like a way for me to craft a story with all the asks i got that i wanted to expand on more than just one post (or ones i just wanted to include in this fic). under the notes, i will input what prompts i used to write the chapter so you can all see them :) i hope you enjoy <3

(i did just screenshot from my google docs, i don't wanna talk about it)

masterlist

“Remind me why I have to come again,” You requested, a hint of teasing in your tone, as you locked up the door of your apartment. Luke stared at you for a moment, unimpressed as he rested against the wall beside your apartment door.

“Are you really gonna play it like this, huh?” He asked. You hummed out happily, a grin on your lips. Luke had dressed up nicely tonight. I mean, it was the infamous David Rossi’s pasta night so you knew that Luke wanted to look good. That was also why you had dressed up; light make-up and a flowy white dress with sunflowers dotted across it. It made you feel pretty and it was a sundress so maybe you’d catch his… well, someone’s eye.

“You’re the one that called me your girlfriend. How do you fuck that up?” You bit back, entirely teasing. He rolled his eyes as the two of you walked to the elevator.

“I didn’t!” Luke retorted, throwing his hands up in defense. You rolled your eyes, nodding your head exaggeratedly as if you believed him.

“Right,” You drawled out the word as the two of you stepped into the elevator. You had a box of cupcakes in your left hand, Luke had told you that you didn’t have to bring anything but this was the first time you were meeting his co-workers so you wanted to make a good impression. Your right hand rested on the elevator wall in an attempt to ground yourself as the elevator moved.

“Just wait until you meet Penelope Garcia and then you’ll understand,” He stated. You chuckled and nudged his shoulder playfully, giving him a grin. He shook his head, meeting your gaze briefly before he looked away again. You glanced back at the mirrored elevator wall, checking out your make-up. You looked good. That was good.

So, you then turned back and the elevator doors opened. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Luke to go places together looking like a couple. In fact, it was very common. The two of you loved to take each other out. It was always platonic or at least, that’s what it seemed like. You didn’t want it to be but that was a can of worms you did not want to open.

Doing this with him felt so natural and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with the niggling feelings that you could just never get to go away. It only made the nerves you already had so much worse.

The thought of being around Luke’s co-workers who were all profilers made the thought of pretending even worse. How could you convince a group of people that you were in love? Well, for you, it was easy but you didn’t know how Luke would do it. These were people that knew him, saw him every day, in-and-out like clockwork. What could he possibly do?

“What’s that look for?” Luke asked, glancing over at you as he opened your building door and led you out. You looked up at him and let out a puff of air, holding the cupcakes precariously as you crossed your arms over yourself.

“They’re profilers. Do you seriously think they’re gonna be fooled?” You asked, biting your lip nervously. Luke continued to walk, leading you towards where he had parked his car ready to pick you up.

“It will be fine, just get in the car,” He insisted as you reached it. You sighed and he opened the door for you. You slipped inside, placing the cupcakes on your lap and slipping your seatbelt on. He closed the door, headed to the driver’s side and within a minute, you were heading towards David’s place.

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked after a beat of silence. Luke scoffed.

“They will.” He sounded confident. You harrumphed at him. How could he be so sure? You and Luke had known each other for years, you lost contact for a while but refound each other. He was surely going to be biased compared to a bunch of random strangers that you didn’t know, “They already love you,” He added, attempting to calm your nerves.

“We’ll see,” You mumbled.

Luke was, of course, right, the second that you got to David’s, he welcomed you with open arms and everyone was so nice. You didn’t understand how but all of them regarded you so highly, smiling, grinning, asking questions. It was everything that you expected but you didn’t feel awkward. The second that you were introduced to Penelope, you felt safe.

And you also understood how Luke had gotten himself into the situation. Penelope seemed like someone who would jump to conclusions and with how much she talked (it was obviously not a bad thing, you loved it), Luke definitely wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgeways. It was unsurprising that you had ended up here and you honestly didn’t hate it.

Plus, nobody seemed suspicious. Luke’s hand had barely left you all night and you were almost convinced by him. It was soothing.

“I’m going to the bathroom and then I’ll get us another drink?” Luke suggested as he looked down at you. The two of you were sat on the loveseat outside, the warm summer air breezing past you as the others talked amongst themselves. It was the first time the two of you had been alone all night and you had relaxed into his side as you spoke. It was nice.

“Yeah, okay,” You said, pushing a smile onto your face but the anxiety was evident. Luke hadn’t left you alone all night per your request and so the thought of possibly being alone scared you. What were you supposed to do then? What if you said something stupid? Or something that contradicted what he had told them? There were so many possibilities.

“I’ll be back,” He said as he got up from the loveseat. He smiled at the others as he went and you didn’t know what to think. You sat there awkwardly for a moment but you weren’t alone for long. Soon enough the entire BAU had you surrounded.

Penelope dropped herself onto the sofa beside you, Tara perched on the arm of the sofa. Emily and JJ pulled their chairs from where they’d been sitting to in front of you. Spencer and David were lingering a little further back but facing you and clearly interested.

“So, how much is he paying you to be here?” Tara asked, a smirk on her face. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you floundered, not even sure what to say to that.

“No-nothing,” You stammered out. Tara chuckled and glanced at JJ, wiggling her eyebrow. You adjusted your seat, “I’m serious, I’ve known Luke since we were in middle school,” You brushed off the question, trying to be cool, calm and collected. Those words would never be used to describe you but you tried.

“You met in middle school?” Emily asked, a smirk on her lips, “How much do I have to pay you to see the photos?” You scoffed and let a grin spread across your face, opening your mouth to speak but’

“Has he always had that chiseled jaw?” Penelope cut in. You let out a laugh before nodding your head.

“Oh yeah, since he was a toddler,” You joked. Tara let out a snort and narrowed her eyes, watching you for a moment.

“So, how long have you two been together?” JJ asked. You were stumped. You had never discussed that with Luke. How had you not discussed it? Had he given them a timescale? How were you supposed to answer that.

“I honestly… it’s been over a year but… it’s kind of fuzzy. We reconnected while he was still working in the Fugitive Unit so it was… kind of touch and go.” You were lying your ass off - mostly - but you hoped nobody noticed. Your friendship with Luke had been incredibly touch and go for a good year or so before he joined the BAU. You hoped that those very real tumultuous emotions made your blubbering seem real.

“So, you reconnected recently?” Tara asked. You nodded.

“Well, fairly recently. I mean, I don’t know. I-” You were floundering, breaking under the pressure of so many eyeballs on you. How the hell were you supposed to answer these questions? You had not been prepared for this and where the hell was Luke.

“So you’ve met Roxy?” Penelope asked. You scoffed as if on instinct.

“I helped pick her out,” You blurted out. Tara glanced at JJ and Emily, smirking and JJ held her hands up defensively, “I mean, ever since he came back from Iraq, it was always touch and go. I mean, he was all over, I lived in Texas and Colorado for a bit so it was only when I came to visit family that I got to see him but then I was offered a promotion here and then he ended up getting the job at the BAU. So, it worked out. But the reason he had Roxy is because I convinced him,” You rambled a bit, over explaining yourself. None of it was a lie, it was hard to explain how complicated your relationship with him had been up to now.

There were a few months when he had returned from Iraq and before you went to Texas that you spent every day and night together. Most nights, you slept in the same bed and calmed him down from his nightmares. Your endless patience had reminded Luke that he was worth the chance to get better which is why he went to therapy but he still craved the hunt which is why he went into the Fugitive Unit.

But by the time he made that choice, you were gone. Texas had taken it out of you and not seeing Luke made it worse. You felt your stomach turn at just the memories of that time in your life. You wished you had stayed in DC.

“What happened in Texas?” Spencer suddenly interjected. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him. He was watching your face carefully. How had he worked it out?

“Just had a bit of a rough time and me and Luke weren’t really speaking. So, wasn’t nice, but I’m back here now and I’ve got him so,” You shrugged off Spencer’s observations, really not wanting to go into it right now.

“What are you guys doing?” The sound of your savior made your shoulders drop. A smile spread across your face as Luke stood just outside the circle of his friends, arms crossed over his chest. He looked displeased which made you smile a bit.

“They’re just getting to know me,” You said softly. Penelope nodded, looking up at him. He hummed out in complete displease.

“I think it’s time for dessert,” Dave interjected and any reason to escape made you feel so much better. You jumped up from the sofa and rushed over into Luke’s arms. He wrapped his free arm around you and tugged you into his side, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Your co-workers are scary,” You whispered, half-joking.

“You guys are cute but I know you’re keeping something from me newbie,” Penelope stated, glaring playfully at Luke as she walked past to follow Dave into the kitchen. You glanced up at Luke and his jaw dropped, his free hand held up defensively.

“You believe whatever you want, Garcia,” He teased back. Tara gave the two of you a curious look before disappearing into the kitchen. The others quickly followed suit and you and Luke headed in with them. He kept his hand in yours the entire time.

Everyone had grabbed some desert by now and praised you on how good the cupcakes tasted. You were just glad you had made a good impression but the nerves were still tying up your stomach. Even though nothing was wrong and you hadn’t done anything. You just felt like you were floundering whenever anyone asked you about Luke.

It was hard to know what to say. You and Luke had always been complicated, drifting together and then apart over and over again. You were hoping that this time he’d stay but part of you was scared that maybe it was your turn to drift. You didn’t want that though.

“Hey, kiddo. Want something else?” Dave said as he walked into the kitchen. You had been lingering by the counters as Luke talked with his co-workers. They all looked so happy, grinning and wine drunk. You loved how comfortable he was. But the little alcohol you had was making your head dizzy with anxiety.

“No, no, I’m okay. Just… thinking,” You didn’t know how else to explain yourself. Luke caught your gaze, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at you. He waved you over but you shook your head but gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m good’ you mouthed. Luke continued to smile as he turned back to the group. It wouldn’t leave his lips but you assumed someone had said something funny.

“I don’t expect you to talk to me but I know a face of worry when I see one,” Dave said as he cleared away a few of the empty plates, piling them up on the counter. You sighed through your nose before you turned around, rubbing your hands across your face.

“Do you ever feel like things are so good that they’re bound to go wrong?” You asked. You knew that it was risky to confide in one of his co-worker’s considering the facade the two of you were trying to keep up but maybe expressing anxiety would make it so the eventual fake break-up would actually be more believable.

“Listen, you got a good thing with Luke. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Dave insisted but you shook your head. You didn’t believe that. Life was complicated and yours and Luke’s lives especially were extremely complicated, “What?” Dave asked as he grabbed a crystal glass from the side before he grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He poured out a glass, offering it out to you but you shook your head.

“Luke and I have always been passing ships in the night. There’s a few months where we’re as thick as thieves before something gets in the way and everything goes silent. But with this? I’m in too deep. If it happens again… I don’t know how I’m supposed to recover. God knows I love him but life gets complicated,” You were rambling but you just needed to get it out. It was so hard to keep it all in and you were terrified to talk to Luke about it. How were you supposed to tell him that you couldn’t lose him again?

That was dangerous territory. A decade ago, you had promised each other to just stay as you are. You were perfect as you are and now, you felt like that was all going to change and you weren’t going to be able to handle it.

“I don’t have all the answers but you’re in love. Cherish it,” Dave said as he stepped towards you. His hands rested on your shoulders as he caught your gaze. Your shoulders dropped and you nodded your head. You knew that you just needed to stop, breathe and keep going. If something did go wrong, then that’s okay but you didn’t want it to and the more you worried, the more likely it was going to be and you didn’t want that.

“Dave! Tara has a question,” JJ called from where her, Tara and Spencer were sat. You glanced at him, smiling before he nodded and disappeared off, making a comment you didn’t catch. Luke appeared a moment later, a dopey smile on his face. He looked so cute, a beer bottle in hand and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. You thought he looked so sweet, you could have kissed him right then and there.

But you didn’t.

He reached out for your hand and you took his, happy for the warm contact of his skin against yours. It was exactly what you needed.

“What’s that look for?” He asked. Your eyebrows knitted together and that only made him lift his hand and smoothe out the crease, “You’re doing a good job,” He added. You nodded and grabbed his hand pulling it away from your face.

“I know,” You mumbled. He chuckled and twisted his hand to take yours, tugging you in.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked. You shrugged and he shook his head, “I know you, tell me what’s wrong.” He wasn’t going to drop it, you knew that.

“I’m fine, seriously,” You let a smile spread across your face, the lightness filling your chest now that you were with him again, “Just, tired,” You lied. You were far from tired, your brain was so awake, it felt like it needed a sedative but there was nothing you could do about that except go home and try and sleep the anxiety off.

“Okay,” He mumbled softly, pulling you into a hug. He believed you for now.

next chapter (coming soon)

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez smut #luke alvez angst #luke alvez x reader smut #luke alvez x reader fluff #reader-insert #reader insert #criminal minds #fic #fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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