#so i'm going to have some toast and then go to the movies with my mum <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dmercer91 · 4 months

Note

can we get a part 2 of luke liking jacks best friend??? maybe where they end up together 🤭

got the girl, lh43

in which luke's behaviour finally clicks and you mess with him until he can admit his feelings out loud (2.0k)

soft, almost needy/naive luke is becoming my favourite cause i love me a boy that's deeply reliant on his snuggles despite being tall and man shaped. a little unproofread and a little silly in the middle, for flavour

when you woke up, you found yourself tucked under lukes arm, your face now a little hidden into his neck so that he could be far up enough on the bed that his legs didn't teeter the edge.

he was sound asleep, a little less of a morning person than you despite his hectic schedule during most of the year.

the summer was his time to sleep until ludicrous hours, and you took note throughout the years that he always took advantage.

he was always the last one of the brothers to hobble downstairs for breakfast, sleep frequently prominent in his eyes and his hair a tangled mess of his curls that were drying out due to the lake water and lack of caring for.

so you let him rest, carefully untangling yourself from his grasp and heading to wash your face, and brush your teeth. it would be a while before quinn was up, usually the most responsible brother who knew that if he got up early enough he could poach some of your breakfast and have a little while of peace in the gym or front yard.

you cleaned up some of the water bottles that had been left in the living room from the night prior, folding the throw blankets and fixing up the pillows before starting to cook your breakfast, deciding on a simple one for today; eggs, toast and some fruit.

what you didn't expect was to hear the creak of the stairs within a few seconds of you frying your eggs, your eyebrows furrowing as you examined the microwave for the time.

a little early for quinn, but you figured it was him anyways. "quinny?" you said, your voice travelling far enough to make it to the stairs but not to make its way upstairs and wake anyone.

when he didn't answer, you turned your head and saw that it was luke, rubbing exhaust from his eyes and sleepily making his way over to you.

you smiled, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into him, and sharp whine echoing into your ear as he saw that you were cooking breakfast.

"it's so early.. come back to bed w' me," he pleaded, tugging you away from the oven and pawing at the knobs of the stove, trying to turn it off.

you giggled, adjusting his arms on you and turning back to your pan, shaking your head.

"i'm making my breakfast, lukey. i can make you some, hm?" he shook his head, tucking his face into your neck as if the natural morning light was too harsh on his eyes.

his arms unravelled from your waist, hands planting on your hips and soothing up and down, pulling your shirt up on your waist a little with each passing.

you bit your lip, his actions from now and last night finally coming together in your brain.

snuggling up with you, staring at you instead of watching a movie he picked out, agreeing to spend the night with you, calling you baby by accident. you weren't sure how you hadn't picked up on it before.

everything was confirmed for you when the stairs croaked once again, now under the feet of the eldest hughes brother. when he saw you, luke still trying to pry your attention away from anything that wasn't him, his face lit with an amused smile.

he knew

you started to ponder on if jack knew, or even trevor and alex. if everyone was painfully aware of luke's eyes always being trained on you and decided to keep it from you.

you blinked back into reality, turning off the stove and plating your eggs. "lu?" you mumbled, offhandedly like you had a question you'd been meaning to ask him for some time, even though it only just come to you.

he hummed, hopeful eyes peeking up at you and his hands coming to a halt. "how about you go get ready and ill make you some breakfast, n' we can have it out on the boat," you murmured, cupping his head in your hand and playing with his curls.

you were gonna see how long it took until he broke, admitted how he'd been feeling.

you watched as his eyes dilated, scanning down to your lips with a deer in headlights-esque look of infatuation. he licked his lips, eyes darting back up to yours as soon as he caught his own staring.

he then nodded, blinking away the evident look of euphoria on his face at the feeling of your hands in his hair.

"oh," he murmured, still nodding along to your question. it was like he was under a spell. "okay," he finished, your hand retreating from his curls and pressing to his chest.

"i'll meet you out there, alright? gotta change once i'm done making your food," you instructed, earning one last nod of confirmation before he finally tore his body away from yours and lugged himself back upstairs and towards his own room.

"don't tell me you're gonna do this until he tells you himself," quinn's voice came from behind you once luke's bedroom door was shut and he couldn't hear the conversation.

"what's the fun in telling him i know? and plus, you can't tell me you didn't love watching that," you gestured to where luke had been standing, calling back to the blindingly obvious pining that the older brother had watched from the stairs.

he nodded a little, smile cracking at his lips as he took the plate of food you had already made for yourself.

you glared at him, mixing together another couple eggs into your bowl now that yours were gone.

"what! they would've been cold by the time you got to the boat anyways," he defended, shovelling a fork full of eggs into his mouth and sitting down at the island.

"y/n?" he asked, swallowing his bite.

you hummed, looking back at him as you poured the eggs into the pan. "you won't just lead him on, will you? like, you feel the same," he asked quietly, eyes avoiding yours after a quick second of eye contact.

your lips pulled back into a smile at his attempt at nonchalant protectiveness over his youngest brother, and you shook your head. "silly question. remember the girl who's face i shoved into a pile of snow? when we were kids?" you recalled, and quinn chuckled.

"yeah. i guess he's kinda always been yours," he stated, much more comfortable now that he knew two of his favourite people would soon stop dancing around each others requited feelings.

when the stairs could be heard again, you were expecting luke, but instead you saw your best friend, gloomy as he stared at you.

"you watched top gun without me, and you had our movie night with my little brother," he pouted, going up to you and ruffling your hair, tugging you into a side hug.

"even?" he asked, looking down at you hopefully.

"you threw me into the pool while i was wearing white. and zegras was there. even," you stuck your hand out, watching as he bashfully took it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

"not my brightest impulse decision, i have to admit," he sighed, reaching over your head for a plate and stealing the toast that had come out of the toaster, then some eggs.

you gave him the same glare you'd sent quinn, earning a similarly mischievous grin.

"why'd you make so much if s' not for me?" he wiggled his eyebrows, eyeing luke's bedroom door.

you rolled your eyes, a response you seemed to have needed to resort to one too many times this morning. for future reference, you'd keep in mind that one brother at a time for this hour of the morning was more than enough.

"her and lukey have a breakfast boat date," quinn teased, the two of them looking at each other with excited looks, both with hints of relief that something finally stirred between you and luke.

"at long last was getting a little long, munchkin. good for you," he kissed your forehead, sitting next to quinn at the counter.

"you're both just.. so insufferable" you grumbled, now having to finish off the carton of eggs you'd been using since two plate fulls had been stolen from you.

you popped more toast into the toaster, frowning at the empty plate of strawberries you’d cut up and grabbing the container of unsliced ones to make up some more.

switching focus back to the eggs, you scrambled them up and shook the pan around, ensuring a more even cook.

then, thing one and thing two came jogging downstairs in a full fledged conversation at the top of their lungs

“no, no. i totally kicked your a- ooh, fruit,“ he went to grab a piece of strawberry, earning a slap on the hand.

you spun around, spatula drawn like a sword at his face

“zegras, if you touch my food, this spatula is going down your throat.” his eyes went wide for a second, index finger pointing to your utensil and slowly lowering it down

“i liked you better yesterday,” he grinned, winking and grabbing an apple from the fridge, tossing one to alex. “touchy, this morning.” he grumbled under his breath as you glared at jack

“come on, man. you’re gonna get my top gun privileges revoked. again,” jack got up to put his plate away, shoving trevor’s shoulder on the way by.

“i like that that’s what you’re worried about, that’s really cool of you, j.” you rolled your eyes once more, finally greeting alex with a ruffle of his hair.

then finally, after the string of hockey boys coming down to steal your breakfast, each adorned with bottomless pits for stomachs- luke made his way back to the kitchen. he was now in a hoodie and swim shorts, his hair wet from his shower.

“could you finish up plating everything, lu? your brothers stole our original plates so i’m running a little behind,” you smiled sarcastically as the two eldest waved to you

luke chuckled, nodding and taking your place in front of the stove.

while you changed, he finished cutting up the fruit, he put whatever spreads you’d taken out on the toast, and he split the eggs.

when he was done, he turned to see his brothers, along with trevor, alex and cole- who came down as you went back up, staring at him.

he turned his shoulders inward, suddenly a little too self aware.

“.. what?” quinn grinned, cole coming to pat him on the back as he made his own meal.

“look who finally got the girl,” trevor teased, alex wiggling his eyebrows after taking a bite of his apple.

he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at jack who nodded in confirmation.

“i got the girl?” he asked softly, arms falling to his sides, slightly limp in his state of shock.

“yeah, you did.” you smiled from the entrance to the kitchen, coming up and massaging his shoulder a little.

“you are no fun,” you pointed at quinn, who raised his hands in defence.

“what? why?” luke asked, looking down at you with his head tilted adorably.

“i was gonna mess with you just a little longer. wanted you to admit it,” you grinned, hand on his abs

he smiled a little, pecking your lips.

you tugged at him, grabbing your plate and nodding to his.

“c’mon, now.” you pulled him towards to patio door.

the boys whistled after the two of you and you giggled, looking back to see jack with a proud, almost bashful smile. his favourite people, this’d mean a lot to him even if he never said it.

to save face, the last thing you heard from him on your way out of the back was ‘wear protection!’

you shook your head with a smile, turning to luke now that you couldn’t be seen.

“my lukey,” you murmured, cupping his face and kissing him softly, still more intense now that there wasn’t an audience.

he nodded into your kiss, returning the favour with a hint of desperation.

“my girl,”

#e’s fics #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #hughes brothers

1K notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

#steddie #byler #this is just about Steve and el bonding #steve teaching El the best way to beat mean girls is to be one #eleven hopper #steve Harrington #stranger things #Eddie munson #mike wheeler #will byers #Steve Harrington and El hopper have a sibling relationship #found family #my writing #ficlet #mean girl steve harrington #fluff #fanfiction #jim hopper

3K notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 8 months

Text

Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i can honestly say i didn't expect the response to this #u cant predict the stocks! i guess LOL #fun fact this was nearly an abo fic as well #but i decided against it this time around #bc i have other aus that'll probably be abo

2K notes · View notes

starry-eyedblog · 3 months

Note

HI LAURY (≧ω≦。) I CAN FINALLY SEND YOU AN ASK AGAIN!!

okay ahem i was thinking about roomates!soap and gaz !! they are like very overly touchy and obsessed with you, literally can't keep their hands off you while you three are on the couch watching a movie. a bit insane and gross sometimes too BUT i love them very much. DO YOU SEE MY VISION HERE!! i don't think i am explaining it well BUT YEAH >:3

ruru!! i'm so happy yer free from jail, vry glad to have you back<3

and omg i'm actually frothing at the MOUTH i see your vision so clearly. why is this so hot?? i actually need them so badly. hope i do the idea justice !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

warnings/tags: roommate! soap x roommate! gaz x reader, non con/dub con, groping, pervy/creepy behaviour, slight manipulation/guilt tripping, mentions of panty sniffing

you had moved into a new flat a few weeks ago, managing to snag a pretty big place for a cheap price. when you saw the amount on the post advertising it online, your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you rushed to contact the owners, which turned out to be two handsome men a few years older than you.

what was not to love of the place? close commute to your work, cheap, spacious and two very good looking men living there too. honestly it felt like a setup but you didn't question it, and your application was immediately accepted.

so in no time flat you were moving in, setting up all your own furniture with the help of both your roommates. and after a week of getting comfortable and your roommates keeping a good distance from you while you settled in, they finally asked you to join in with them on their activities that have always been just for the two of them. the first, was film night.

"every friday night, we have film night. snacks, drinks, shitty films. it's our routine, and now you're here, we thought you should be included." gaz had told you on thursday morning, an easy smile on his face as he stood leaning on the kitchen counter, eating toast in just his plaid pyjama trousers hanging low on his waist with everything else on show. it was very difficult to avoid oogling at his chest as you responded. "so-sounds great, i'll uhm pick up some snacks after work tomorrow." you ushered out.

it's now friday night at half nine and the three of you are huddled up under soft blankets on the pretty spacious couch with you squished in the middle of them. there wasn't any need for them to have their bodies so close to you, but you didn't say anything. gaz had his arm resting on the back of the couch, around your head which made you blush slightly, even though it was just for his own comfort.

you're only fifteen minutes into the film, some popcorn in your hand with eyes glued to the tv when you feel the first touch. it's a big, warm hand pressing at your thigh. you jump, head whipping round to soap who smiles innocently at you. his hand grips your thigh and you whine, stumbling out a response.

"soap, wh-what-?" you try to ask but soap shushes you up quickly, "shh hen, tryna watch the film." he points to the tv with his free hand, no longer looking at you. not even a minute later, another hand coming from the other side of you is now squeezing at the inside of your thigh.

your head whips round to face gaz instead, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. "why are y-" before you can get another word out, gaz is also shushing you and instead facing the tv - just like soap.

you try not to think about it too much, as they both seem to be enamoured with the film playing in front of them and uncaring of the fact both of their hands are gripping at your thighs that borderlines on just a wee bit too tight.

as the film continues, you start to forget about the weight of their hands on your thighs but that doesn't last long until both hands are moving again, one going to your front while the other slides back to rest on your arse.

your cheeks instantly flare pink as you sputter out words, trying to ask what they are doing. "ain't doing anythin', you're jus' too sensitive love. keep watchin' the film alright? me and johnny really want you to take movie night serious, can you do that for us?" gaz asks with a pout, guilt tripping you with his adorable puppy face that will soon become a recurring issue for you.

you find your head nodding slowly, eyes turning back to the tv once again as their hands start to fondle you. soap's hand teases at your cunt through your joggers, cupping it every now and then while gaz grabs and almost kneads at the soft skin of your arse, fingers slipping the joggers down enough that he can touch warm flesh.

it doesn't take long for you to be a whimpering mess on the couch, trapped between the two burly men who give you no respite, rough overworked hands fondling you so meanly and roughly, without care for your sensitive body.

"gu-guys the film, i thought you wan-hghh wanted to watch it." you splutter, head rolling back onto the shoulder of gaz who's on your left. "aye we do, so quit yer yapping quien." soap grumbles, leaving a sloppy wet kiss on your neck, eyes not even looking at the tv.

it doesn't take long for gaz's fingers to work their way down your joggers and push aside your flimsy underwear, a dry thumb pressing against your asshole that has you squirming, hips bucking to get away. gaz's other hand keeps you pinned down firmly with no issue, watching the way your mouth falls open to let out confused sounds of pleasure and pain.

as gaz does this at the back of your body, soap fondles with the front of you, hand slipping down your underwear to press at your clit which makes you moan out-loud, eyes fluttering shut. "dove, please. we haven't seen this film before, been waiting awhile." gaz complains, nibbling at your ear and you feel as if all your nerves have been set on fire. the guilt and pleasure swirls through your turned on body, mind starting to become foggy as they continue their groping.

you bite down on your bottom lip harshly, teeth digging into the skin and causing little tears. tiny droplets of blood stain your bottom lip as you sit there like a doll for them, your fuzzy brain desperately trying to focus on the film but at this point any ideas you had about the plot or characters has left you and replaced with the way your body is being groped at by your two new roommates.

soon soap's fingers are slipping past your folds and caressing your hole that seems to grow wet from the touch, even though it's a natural human body instinct, soap takes it that you're enjoying his and gaz's caressing which just feeds into his gross mindset.

"fuck gaz, should feel how wet they are. fuckin' turns em on being groped." soap moans deeply, one thick finger slipping into your wet hole that immediately clenches down on the intrusion. "that so? we picked the right one tav." gaz smirks at his friend, pulling his hands out of your joggers to then shove his dry thumb into your mouth roughly.

"suck lovie." he stated, watching the way your teary eyes didn't move away once from the tv while your mouth gently sucked on the digit. soon he slipped his thumb out and pressed it against your hole once again, but this time he gently started to edge his spit soaked finger inside which had your body flinching. you had never experimented back there, so this was a very new sensation.

"never had anyone back here, eh?" gaz jokes with a mean chuckle which soap joins while thrusting one finger meanly into your tight cunt that leaks around his hand. another finger is soon added, thumb pressing against your clit. you feel absolutely ashamed, your body enjoying the touch while your mind is conflicted.

before you can think much more about how wrong this is, how your roommates have ganged up on you to touch you without any consent, your stomach tightens and your cunt clenches down on soap's two fingers. your asshole pulses around gaz's thumb as your orgasm washes through you and your eyesight blurs from the intensity.

as you whimper and gasp on the couch, hips bucking and writhing to try get away, both men watch in awe as you cum. the film is long forgotten now, playing quietly in the background as it illuminates the room. once your orgasm finally comes to an end, your body slumps back into the couch, eyes half lidded and body limp while your roommates remove their hands out of you.

soap is the first to taste your sweet nectar, long tongue wrapping around his middle finger and sucking off your juices. he moans and pants like a dog in heat as he tastes you on his tongue, and it isn't long before gaz is whining for his turn. soap reluctantly pulls off and rests his ring finger on gaz's plump lips, watching the younger man slowly open his mouth and welcome his finger inside. his tongue laps up the wetness, hips bucking up from need as he drinks down everything he can just off soap's finger.

after a minute, soap is pushing gaz off with a chuckle. "alright calm yersel gaz." he says, and gaz rolls his eyes. "you're just the same." he grumbles quietly before turning to you, smiling at how out of it you are, still limp against the couch.

thankfully both men pull your underwear back up and clean you up, but not without leaving messy hickeys all over your neck and shoulders to claim you as theirs.

and no one needs to know, certainly not you, that through this week of you settling in - where they kept their distance so you were comfortable, they weren't actually keeping faithful to that promise. they already managed to slip a few dirty pants out of your bedroom to sniff and huff at while jerking the other off at late hours into the night, as well as spying on you when showering.

but this was just the start of their creeping on their new pretty roommate.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

532 notes · View notes

strang3lov3 · 11 months

Text

Everyday I'm Shufflin'

Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel is shocked, horrified, disgusted, and absolutely appalled to learn you, an adult, cannot shuffle a deck of cards. He makes it his mission to teach you in a rather unconventional way 😈🔥😍

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smutttt, kind of soft dom! Joel (y’all know the fuckin drill, but this is like the softest soft dom), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, undefined age gap, unprotected PIV sex, Joel is a sweetie honestly, loosely proofread bc I was so excited to get it out to you guys.

Word Count: 6k (oops)

A/N: Dumb title I know…but listen. I know I’m touching on this particular theme/idea of card shuffling in my story Sweetest Perfection (which I’m unsure of when I will finish lol) but omg ladies…I was playing Gin Rummy with my man a few nights ago and he tried to teach me how to shuffle a deck of cards. I have never been so turned on watching him do something so simple. His hands were so skillful, his voice was so smooth and comforting. So thank you J ❤️ I love you!! (If he ever finds my writing I will drive off a fucking cliff)

if you enjoy this story, please leave me a comment! I am super proud of this story!

Check out my Masterlist

How you learned to shuffle a deck of cards was rather…unorthodox. To say the least.

It started with a game of Gin Rummy.

Joel read once long ago that when shuffling a deck of cards, it is statistically more than likely that the particular order of shuffled cards never existed before and will never exist again.

Joel had played enough games of Solitaire by himself and shuffled enough cards over the past twenty-odd years that he was sure he beat that statistic. What else is there to do when you’re bored as shit in the apocalypse?

It was safe to say Joel was more than sick of Solitaire. So one morning at breakfast, he invited you to join him for a few games of cards. Nothin’ fancy, he said.

You said yes, of course. Joel Miller was distant, reserved. Standoffish, even. But he seemed to have a soft spot for you.

He noticed you sitting alone at dinner about a year and a half ago. He was alone too, Ellie usually ate with Dina. She was too cool for him, he guessed. You looked quite a few years younger than him and looked bored and lonely, nudging and poking at the food on your plate. It made him feel sad.

The next day, you were alone again. And the day after. And the day after that. On day five when he found you sitting alone, he decided to make his move. Instead of going to his usual spot at the end of the banquet tables, he sat across from you.

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in confusion. “Can I help you?”

He didn’t think it through. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to make conversation. How to explain why he was sitting there. “I just, uh. My juvenile delinquent ditched me. Just wanted some company. I’m sorry, this was dumb,” his voice was gruff and low as he reached for his plate and began to stand up. “I’ll leave ya alone.”

“No, no. Stay,” you corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean to come off rude or anything, you just surprised me. Joel, right? Tommy’s brother?”

He nodded yes. You gave him your name and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Joel,”

“You as well, darlin’,” he took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm and calloused.

And that’s how it started. You hit it off completely. Conversation was slow and awkward at first, but eventually it began to flow naturally. Joel was older, but the type of person you could talk to for hours. Like when you talk about your favorite food or movie and hours later you’re laughing about something random and obscure, and you wonder to yourself how you even ended up on that subject. You met for breakfast and dinner every day.

“So I’ve got a proposal for you, darlin’,” he said, taking a bite of his buttered toast.

“Pray tell, Mr. Miller!” you requested, a curious tone in your voice.

“I’m sick of solitaire. Been playin’ it every damn day for too long now. Come over for cards tonight?”

You paused, pressing your lips in a thin line. Card games weren’t really your thing. You remember Tommy and Maria and how they tried to teach you euchre a while back. It didn’t end well, you left with a migraine and no understanding of how to play euchre. But there were a few games you enjoyed. “Depends. It’s not euchre, is it?”

“Nope. That’s four players, sweetheart,” he informed.

“Poker? Because I don’t know that one either,”

Joel rolled his eyes. He’d have to teach you that one sometime. “No, not poker,” he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief. “Tell you what, we’ll do any game you want. I’m just sick of playin’ with myself,'' Joel balked, then winced at his poor word choice. He absolutely did not mean to say that.

Your eyes widened in amusement at his silly word mishap. Now that must be a sight for sore eyes, Joel playing with himself. You tried to push the image out of your mind, but it was nearly impossible. You spent many nights with your hand between your thighs, picturing Joel naked and moaning on top of you. Or under you. Or behind you. Sometimes all three. The truth was, you needed Joel badly. Like, desperately. “Tired of playing with yourself, huh?” you teased with a smile and a playful glint in your eyes.

Joel pouted, the slightest tint of rosiness blooming on his cheeks. You idiot, he scolded himself silently. “Shut up, smartass. Are you comin’ over or not?”

“Duh. Ellie gonna be there?”

“Probably not. It’ll be just us, most likely. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. Finally, real alone time with Joel. Maybe tonight you could make your move. You hoped that Joel thought about you too. You caught his lingering stares, picked up on his cautious flirting. He could be so sweet and so charming, it had to be because he liked you too, right? But he was from Texas, so maybe it was just his southern gentlemanliness. Either way, it was worth a shot.

“Let’s meet here for dinner like usual, and then we can go over to my place. That work?”

You smiled and nodded, trying to keep cool. Excitement was bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Then it’s a date,”

A date!!

After breakfast, you went home and spent most of the day picking out a cute outfit for the evening. You went through nearly every piece of clothing in your possession, eventually settling for your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Casual.

Dinner came and went as normal. Joel was dressed as his usual self. A dark red flannel and some jeans that hugged his ass a little too nicely. You shared a good conversation, and when you finished eating, Joel took your dishes away and then met you at the door.

You walked side by side until you got to his home. It was cozy and inviting, Ellie’s drawings displayed prominently on the walls. Little tchotchkes and knick knacks here and there. A few old pictures, old books and magazines. His weathered deck of Bicycle playing cards sat in the middle of the dining room table.

Joel pulled out a seat for you and brought you a glass of water. He sat right next to you on the other side of the table. “So,” he started, reaching for the deck. He split the cards in two, braced his fingers along their sides and ran his thumbs from bottom to top. The cards fell in a swift and staggering motion. Effortlessly, he brought the cards up and bent them into an arch, letting them fall. “What card game we playin?”

“I was thinking we could play Gin Rummy?” you asked sweetly.

“Good choice,” he replied. He had some other games in mind, but couldn’t say no to your request. Joel dealt the cards expertly, quickly placing ten cards each in front of yourselves. The thwap thwap thwap of the cards hitting the table was such a pleasant noise. You loved how skillfully he moved his hands.

You brought your cards to yourself, doing your best to sort them into different groups. Unfortunately, Joel gave you the shittiest hand he possibly could have. This would be a swift game, you assumed. Joel snickered when he sorted his cards. By the looks of it, he already had the beginnings of a few good sets and melds. “Gonna kick your ass, darlin’,”

You grumbled in response. Joel flipped the first card up, motioning for you to make your choice. You couldn’t do much with it, so you passed. Joel took it, then discarded one of his own. You were right. The game went by quickly. Within minutes of playing, Joel showed you his hand. He had, in fact, kicked your ass. He was smiling and giggling and bragging, almost how a child would. You loved the way his eyes sparkled and the crinkles that framed them just so. He was too handsome for his own good.

He took your cards and placed them neatly in with the rest of the deck, then placed the deck in front of you. “Your turn to deal. We’re playin’ again,”

“Good. It’s about time I deal. You gave me the crappiest hand you possibly could’ve!” you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. I purposely gave you a shitty hand because I need to rig the game in order to win. Or maybe I’m just better than you,” he taunted with a smile. He could be such a sarcastic prick at times. You rolled your eyes in response and Joel pointed to the cards. “Deal for me now, sweetheart.”

This is when all hell broke loose.

You took the cards in your hand, doing an awkward shuffle. Moving some cards sporadically here and there and mixing them on the table. It wasn’t the prettiest way to shuffle cards, but it worked. Right?

No, not right. Not according to Joel.

His jaw dropped, eyes squinted and his brow furrowed. He is completely and utterly appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. Offended. “What the fuck is the matter with you? What are you doing to my cards?!”

You stopped your actions. “What?” you asked worriedly.

“My cards! That’s how you’re shufflin’ them? Is this some kind of joke?” his southern accent intensified with his anger.

You looked down at his cards. None were bent or damaged in any way. “Joel, it’s fine,” you chided. “You’re so dramatic.”

“No, it is not fine. You mean to tell me this is how you shuffle cards?”

“Yeah, so?” Joel scoffed. “Unacceptable,” he takes the cards from you, huffing and puffing as he sorts them into a neat stack. “You’re an adult. Do it the right way.”

You give it your best shot. Trying to picture the way he shuffled, you mimic his finger placement and drop the cards, sliding your thumbs along the top edges. They don’t stagger nicely, however. They kind of plop on top of each other in groups.

Joel sighs in disappointment. He takes them from you in a sharp motion. “Give me those,” he grumbles. “You don’t know how to shuffle?” You shake your head no. “Gonna teach you, then.”

He splits the deck in two, then faces the cards so they’re mirroring each other, just like before. “Like this, darlin’,” he starts. “You place your pinkie, middle, and ring fingers at the far end. Pointer is bent at the knuckle on top, thumbs at the close end,” He shows you his hand placement, turning the cards so you can see all angles. “See?”

Joel is rambling about hand placement and how to move your thumbs. But you can’t help it. You’re practically salivating watching him move his fingers so skillfully. As he’s explaining how to slide your thumbs slowly up the cards, you’re picturing his thumb on your hot center, slowly sliding up your folds.

“You try now,” he sets the deck down in front of you.

Shit. You can’t remember a thing about what he told you. He helps you move your fingers properly and you freeze, your brain is short circuiting. His fingers are pure electricity on top of yours.

You take a breath and try again. Somehow, it’s worse than before.

“No, like this,” Joel takes the cards and begins rambling about the cards again. Now you’re watching his middle three fingers, wondering how they would feel inside you. How would they stretch you, how would they move? He’s so fucking good at this. It turns you on.

Joel says something, but you don’t answer. He looks at you, noticing your glazed eyes. You’re on another planet. “Are you even listening to me?” “What?” he breaks your trance. You meet his eyes, his eyebrows are raised and he looks rather irritated with you. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you smile sheepishly.

“What’d I say?”

“You said,” you begin, trailing off when you can’t think of a good lie. He caught you, you weren’t listening at all. You couldn’t repeat a single one of his instructions.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Joel’s words are bitter and he feels upset. He thought this would be a nice way to spend some alone time with you, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about tonight. It’s jarring, he didn’t expect this from you and it stings him.

“No! Of course not, Joel. I’m sorry,” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what his fingers could do to you. Rookie mistake, that’s the first rule of learning to shuffle a deck of cards! Never fantasize about your teacher’s fingers!

“Then what is it?”

You hem and haw, rattling off whatever you can think of to answer him. He’s not satisfied and you can see it. His brow is flat and he wears a frown of disappointment.

“Quit lyin’. If you’re bored, just say so. Won’t hurt my feelings,” Lies. Joel’s heart is crumbling at the thought of you being bored of game night. He’d actually been planning on inviting you for a while, and finally gathered the courage today.

“I’m having fun with you,” you stammer for a second, “I promise.”

“Yeah. Seems like it,”

You groan and bury your head in your hands. There’s no way out of this. You have to tell him what’s really going on. “Fine, Joel. You want the truth?”

“Yes, I do. Enlighten me,” he deadpans.

“Fine,” you inhale and close your eyes, mentally preparing for the humiliation you’re about to inflict upon yourself. “Your fingers. Your hands. The way you move, the way you’re so good at this. It’s sexy, okay? I can’t fucking focus.”

Joel’s in disbelief that he heard you correctly. When the words finally register, a smirk curls up on his lips. He feels a little guilty for accusing you of not caring. But then again, he never would have thought shuffling cards would be a turn on for a woman. Poor thing, he thinks. You’re not bored, you’re just hot and bothered. It’s no wonder you can’t focus. “You think I’m sexy?”

You stare at the cards, avoiding his stare. God, this is embarrassing. “Yeah, of course,”

“Of course, huh?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin. “My fingers are gettin’ you all worked up, is that right?”

You finally build the courage to look up. There’s no animosity or malice in his gaze, just amusement. Your confidence is beginning to return. “That’s right,” you reply with a whisper.

“Wow. My fingers gettin’ you all hot and bothered and I’ve never even touched you,” he teases. “That’s what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? You’re thinkin’ about me touchin’ you?”

You nod. “How could I not? I always do,”

“Oh darlin’, how you flatter me,” He pauses, thinking. Joel gets a twisted idea then, and places the cards in front of you. “Tell you what, sweet thing. You shuffle those cards real nice for me, I’ll use my fingers on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Joel, please,” you rasp out. You took the scenic route to get there, but the night is finally headed in the direction you had hoped for.

Joel makes it look so easy. Just focus a little harder, and you’ll do it. You split the deck in two, mirror the cards, place your fingers properly, and–

Plop plop. Plop.

The deck splits in large chunks with a few single cards falling near the end. You exhale in frustration.

“Come on now, sweetheart. You want me to touch you, right?” Joel’s wearing a twisted smirk, so smug and cocky. “What’re you screwin’ around for?”

Joel loves teasing his partners, he loves building up tension so palpable that it could be sliced with a knife.

You glare at him. You’ll show him. It can’t be that fucking hard to shuffle a damn deck of cards. You repeat the shuffling motion, failing again.

You grunt at the deck of cards, wishing you could make them burst into flames. You try again, and fail. Yet again.

You try again. Fail.

And again. Fail.

Focusing is becoming increasingly difficult with the throbbing growing stronger at the apex of your thighs.

You huff indignantly, slamming the cards on the table. “Fuck this,”

“Hey, now. If you’d’ve just listened to me you’d get it right by now,” Joel steps out of his chair and hovers behind you, then motions for you to begin again. He places his hands over yours, separating them a little. “Hands are too close together, darlin’. That’s why the cards aren’t falling right. Now try.”

You steady your breath, focusing on the cards. You slide your thumbs up the edges slowly and watch the cards stagger perfectly. The pitter patter of each card hitting the other is the most beautiful and relieving sound you’ve ever heard. You gasp, amazed that you finally did it.

Joel opens his mouth to praise you, but you interrupt him by practically leaping out of your chair and into his arms. Without thinking, you grab his face and press your lips to his, kissing him hard and fast. Your lips slide sloppily against his and your teeth click together every so often.

Your hands leave his face and furiously unbutton your jeans and you grab his hand, shoving it down the front of your pants. You moan when his fingers reach your center.

Joel’s instinct is to tease you some more, but you’ve done that to yourself enough already. It’s evident by the river flowing between your thighs. You gasp when drags his middle and ring fingers up and down your seam.

“You poor thing,” he whispers into your lips. “Fuckin’ needed this, hm?”

You don’t answer him, you can’t. You just whimper into his mouth. His strong nose presses against your cheek and his lips are soft against yours. His calloused fingers paint steady circles against your clit and his other arm is around your waist, holding you tightly against him. He can feel your knees beginning to buckle and he relishes in the way you’re unraveling, just for him.

He parts from you and removes his hand from your pussy. You let out a cry of frustration at the loss. “I know, darlin’,” he sympathizes.

He sits on his chair and pulls you close to him by your hips, then tugs your jeans down your thighs. He motions for you to take them off the rest of the way and then guides you to sit in his lap, your back flush against his chest. He pushes his hand down the front of your panties and returns it to your pussy, circling your clit once more before pushing two fingers inside your wet heat, curling upwards and hitting the spot that makes your thighs tremble. His hot breath tickles your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. “Did so good, baby. So good for me,”

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat. His fingers feel incredible, stretching you out and pressing into you.

He loves the wet squelching sound of your pussy, he loves the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your lips pressing into his neck as you whimper sweet nothings into his skin. His other arm is wrapped tight around your body and he squeezes your breasts in his big hand, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. “God, you don’t take much at all do you? So sensitive, just for me,”

His cock is hard beneath you, poking through his jeans and into your back. He desperately wants to be touched, wants to take this further and fuck you hard and deep. But not yet.

“Joel, I want more now,” you whine, feeling heat deep in the pit of your stomach.

“You want to come now, sweetheart? Come all over my fingers?” he nudges your thighs farther apart and you open up deeper for him. He removes his hand from your breasts and trails it down your body, beginning gentle circles on your clit while the fingers on his other hand continue curling into you.

“Please,” you cry. You’re so noisy, he’s thankful you’re screaming into his bad ear.

“‘Course, baby. You can let go. It’s okay,” he coos. If only you could see his devilish smirk and know what twisted idea he’s conjuring up in his head.

With his permission, you let yourself go. Your face and chest flush and your muscles squeeze around his fingers erratically. “Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you moan. Joel continues his work on your pussy as you ride out your high. It’s a delicate orgasm, soft and gentle. It feels wonderful, but you need more.

With shallow breaths, you compose yourself and turn to face him. You press kisses to his lips and his jaw and down his throat. Then, on your knees, you reach for his belt buckle.

“What d'ya think you’re doin’, sweetheart?” he questioned you, his voice taunting and playful. He grabs your hands and holds them tightly to stop you.

“What do you mean? I’m going down on you,” you reply, baffled by his question. “Then we’re gonna fuck.”

“Ah, ah,” he tuts. “No we’re not.”

“We’re not?”

“No. I never said I’d fuck you. I told you I’d use my fingers on you,” Of course, he knew you thought this would go farther. But Joel revels in teasing a woman, making her beg and cry for him before finally giving in.

You scoff in disdain. “But I wanted more,” you complain.

“I know you did, baby. If you want my cock, you have to work for it. You didn’t shuffle the cards right,” he tells you plainly, as if it was so obvious. “Shuffle the cards right and I’ll fuck you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. You watched me,”

“I did watch you, and you didn’t do it right. Have to finish with the bridge fall, sweetheart. Or else you’ll bend my cards and I’ll be real upset with you,” he explains, feigning sympathy for you. “I’d have to punish you. And you really don’t want that, baby. So why don’t you be a good girl now, shuffle those cards the right way so I can fuck you real nice, just how you wanted.” his voice is dark and low and serious, you love the gravelly rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Do that for me?”

You love the threat. One day you’ll have to bend his cards, just to see what he’d do to you. But you have bigger concerns at the present moment.

You take a step back to your seat and sit, the cold wood of your chair is refreshing on the hot and sweaty skin of your thighs. You grab the deck, separate it, and take a deep breath in and let it out. You move your hands apart just a touch, just as Joel instructed earlier. And you let the cards fall into place.

With your hands now holding the shuffled cards, you try your best to maneuver them into falling into place. It doesn’t go as planned, the cards flop backwards and scatter all over the table.

Joel bites back a smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Havin’ trouble?”

“No. I can do it,”

You try again. Split the deck, run your thumbs up the edge of the cards and–

The cards fall in chunky groups, not quite the elegant shuffle Joel was looking for. Oops. Fucked that one up. Not to worry, you’ll just try again.

This time you shuffle correctly, attempt the bridge fall once more and fail. Again. You hear the clink of Joel’s belt buckle fall and watch him unzip his pants and pull out his cock. It’s hard and the tip is blushed as he begins to stroke himself. “Better get it together, darlin’. I’m gettin’ tired of waiting on you,”

You glare at him silently.

You steady yourself and try again. And fail. Fucking again. Joel lets out a low whistle and spits into his hand, then brings it to his cock again. His fist is moving up and down his shaft and he shrugs at you, as if to say ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help it’. This is a delightfully unique change of pace, he thinks. He’s not doing a thing to work you up, your pleasure and release is all dependent on yourself alone.

Alright. Once more, this time with feeling.

Fail.

You try and try and try again, failing each time. Your fingers are exhausted and your palms are sweaty, causing you to slip up. And Joel’s sitting there, playing with his cock and not saying a thing. You’re so beyond irritated, completely tired of this torturous bullshit. Tears of frustration well in your eyes and spill out and down your cheeks. This is fucking agonizing. You ignore your tears, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them Joel won’t either. You try again. Nothing. You let out a cry in dissatisfaction.

“I know, baby. You’re tryin’ so hard,” Joel whispered earnestly. You just let out a dry laugh. “You are,” he continued. “Take a deep breath, focus for me. You got it.”

You shuffle the cards, set up the arch. “Easy, now. Lift up one thumb, let the cards fall. You can do it, baby,”

You do as you’re told, lifting up your left thumb slowly. You can’t believe your eyes as you watch the spill neatly into each other. Fucking finally.

You drop the cards and let them scatter slightly on the table. In a rush, you leap to Joel and drop to your knees, not even caring about the way the hard floor makes your knees ache. You swat his hand away from his cock and part your lips over the tip, feeling him slide past your tongue and down your throat.

In your fantasies, you’d tease him with your tongue a little. Make him want you, need you. But not here, not now. You’re hungry for his cock and want to waste no time with him. You savor the way his cock feels so smooth and soft in your mouth, the slightly salty flavor of his skin. It’s all so…Joel.

Even Joel was surprised by how eager you were. He gasped when you took him into his mouth, but quickly relaxed as you began your pace. You gripped his denim clad thigh in one hand and brought the other to the base of his length, twisting and pumping it as you bobbed your head. You hummed and moaned against him.

“Wow, darlin’. Someone’s excited,” he mumbles.

You look at him with big doe eyes and offer a wink in response. Joel lets you continue for a while more. He loves how enthusiastic you are, sucking and stroking him like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. It brings him close to the edge.

He taps your cheek a couple times, encouraging you to hop off of him. Your lips are puffy and red, spit dribbling down your chin. He grabs you by your arms and shoves you against the table, then pushes the cards out of the way. You watch and giggle as they clatter on the ground in a big mess. He was so protective of those same cards before, so offended at how you touched them. Now they sat in disarray on the ground. “Your cards,” you breathed with concern.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling your panties down your thighs and pushing your back onto the table. He knelt before you and draped your legs over his shoulders, loving the way they weighed him down. “Let me taste you, please,” he rasped out. You nodded hurriedly. Joel wasted no time, hungrily licking and kissing your folds. He lapped at you, pressed his tongue flat against your center and dragged it over your sensitive skin. He loved how you tasted, how you made a mess of his mustache and his beard. He pointed his tongue and flicked at your clit as he brought two fingers to your core, scissoring and twisting and stretching you out.

It felt amazing, so intense and pleasurable. But you had been waiting so long for his cock already and it’s all you could think about. You pushed Joel away from your body and tore off the rest of your clothes as he followed suit. He looked gorgeous, tan skin and oh so smooth. He wasn’t very hairy, you noticed. Just a tuft of coarse hair at the base of his cock and a little happy trail leading down to it. His muscles were soft and lightly defined, you loved the little swell of his tummy. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered. “Need you to fuck me now.”

Joel cocked his head slightly at your compliment. No one had ever called him beautiful before. You were such a genuinely lovely person. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you, closing the gap between your nude bodies. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. Wish I told you earlier,” he purred. “I’ll fuck you now. You did so good, baby. So proud of you.”

With that, Joel lined his hard cock up to your soaked entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, being sure not to go too hard or too fast. He watched your face, the way your eyes fell shut and your mouth dropped open. He stopped once he was about halfway inside of you. “How am I doin’, darlin’?”

“Please fuck me,” you begged. You appreciated his gentle care, how he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You’d expect nothing less than the illustrious southern gentleman. But you’ve been waiting long enough with the prospect of being fucked by Joel Miller. Fuck sweet lovings, you needed to be fucked. To be used, like a toy. “Now.” you demanded.

It’s all the permission Joel needed. He slammed his hips into yours and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles. Your hands wandered down his back and settled on his ass. You squeezed the soft flesh beneath your fingers and let out moan after moan.

Joel loved how vocal you were. Telling him what you needed, how you needed it. He loved the pretty noises you made, all for him. No one else. Not anymore, at least. You were his now and would be forever.

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted between breaths. “Feels so good.” Joel’s head dipped down to your chest and he kissed and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, tonguing your nipples and loving how you shuddered at his touch. “Good, baby,” he said. “You deserve it.”

You did deserve it, after all. He made you work like a fucking dog for it.

Joel fucked you at a steady pace, comfortable for both of you. He asked you what felt good, what you needed. How he could make it better. “Tell me what I can do, sweetheart,”

There were no improvements to be made. Everything about Joel was second to none, his cock, the way he moved, the way he held you. He fucked you perfectly, just how you needed. “Nothing, just,” you squinted your eyes shut and searched your brain for words, finding it difficult to piece any together. “Just keep fucking me like this. Maybe a little harder, please.”

Joel was a provider. A lady as beautiful as yourself, asking for more? It’d be a sin to deprive you of what you needed. So Joel obliged, picking up the pace and hitting you deeper. “Just like that, Jesus, fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Baby. Joel loved that term of endearment. He wasn’t used to being called any sweet nicknames, usually he was the one who’d dole them out. Not just to anyone, only to those closest to himself. It’s why he called you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ so often.

He liked being the object of your affection. “Keep callin’ me that, please,” he requested, his voice shy and low. He was so tough and domineering just moments ago, and now he was bashful and vulnerable, all because of one little word. Baby.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Wanted this for so long,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. You’d abandon his name completely and call him ‘baby’ for the rest of your lives, if he asked you to.

“God, sweetheart. Me too,” he grunted.

Joel couldn’t last much longer. He let out groans and strangled out moans as his pace became sloppy. “Let me make you come,” he begged. He wriggled his hand between your bodies, placing his thumb on your clit. He held a firm pressure to the sensitive bud and moved it in concise circles, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

You let out a throaty moan as you felt your climax begin to bubble up inside you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m right there.”

Joel just kept doing what he was doing. Circles on your clit and fucking you deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. Your moans turned frantic and you cried out his name, over and over again, like a prayer. Your orgasm was much more intense than the last one, it sent electricity all through your body. You felt tingles and sparks wash over you, from your scalp all through your fingertips, down all the way to your toes. It was the best orgasm any lover of yours had ever blessed you with.

Joel felt your body shudder around him, felt your pussy convulse and squeeze his cock. His thrusts became harder, faster, and frenzied as he chased his own climax. You watched his eyes screw shut and little drops of sweat fall down his temples as he let out a deep moan. His cock pulsed inside you, painting you with his hot seed.

He let out a laugh then, between panting breaths. He pulled you in for a hug, his skin hot and slick with sweat. Head pressed to his heaving chest, you could feel his heartbeat in your ear. Your new favorite feeling.

Joel pulled away from you, kissed you sweetly and helped you clean up. You pulled on your clothes and sat neatly at the table, picking up and sorting out the disheveled cards. Joel did the same, he bent down next to you and gathered the cards on the ground.

He placed them in front of you, left for a second with your empty glasses, and returned with the glasses of water refilled before sitting in his seat again. How you didn’t knock them over during your fucking, you had no idea.

“Alright, baby. Show me how you shuffle now,” he grinned at you. He wanted to make sure his unorthodox method of teaching you actually worked.

You smiled back, split the deck in two and mirrored them for the nth time that evening, and then placed your fingers along the two decks. You slid your thumbs up the cards, watched one fall on top of the other, and brought the cards back up into a nice arch. With a breath, you let off one thumb and let the cards fall down slowly. You sighed in relief. Your maneuver wasn’t quite as smooth as Joel’s, but there was plenty of time to practice.

You dealt out ten cards each, gathered your hand and did your best to hide a smirk. You held a three, four, and six of clubs, three kings, and two jacks.

Joel sighs disappointedly at his hand. You couldn’t have dealt him worse cards. Nothing went with anything.

The two of you exchanged cards quietly, as if you didn’t just desecrate Joel’s dining room table. It was quite funny, really.

The game was quick, just like before. You placed your sets and melds in front of him. “Read it and weep,” you jeer.

Joel grumbles something about cheating and steals your cards. “Rematch,” he says. “Loser gives the winner head.”

“Deal,”

Tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #strang3lov3 #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #joel tlou #tlou show #tlou hbo

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months

Note

hi jadeee!!! :D i read the fic abt poly!marauders with depressed reader and i was wondering if you could do one with aaron? for example r having trouble getting out of bed or doing small tasks and her mental health getting bad again, i don’t know if its just me but i rarely find these kind of fics <3

hi gorgeous i hope this is ok! fem, 1k

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks, patting his face dry with a towel.

You rub sleep from your eyes, catching Aaron's eyes in the mirror over his broad shoulders. You offer him a tired sort of smile.

“Come here,” he says.

You do as he says. Aaron's getting dressed for work, and it's miraculous to have you up and out of bed before him considering how depressed you've been lately. Your abdomen presses to his.

“What are you going to do today?” he asks, wetting a washcloth in the sink. He feels the temperature of the water for a few seconds.

“Um…” You close your eyes in preparation. “I have to shower. And I want to… make you dinner. So I'll do that.” He brings the washcloth to your face and rubs at your skin gently, little rivers of warm water creeping down your face and neck. “Is my appointment today?”

“No, sweetheart. It's not until Tuesday.” He cleans your nose, your sleep-crusted lashes. “Why not have a bath? That way you can sit. You could bring your laptop in here and watch a movie.”

“That…” You run out of steam as he wipes the last stretch of your cheek gently.

If you can't manage a shower today, Aaron will help when he comes home. He never makes it seem like an obstacle or an imposition to help you through these things, treating it like any other hour of time spent together. “Dinner would be nice. But make sure you set the timer if you use the oven. I'll worry.”

“Yeah.”

He passes you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You squeeze it out onto the bristles as he sets about neatening your hair for the day, fingertips gentle on the soft skin of your hairline. You force the toothbrush into your mouth and start out slowly. You feel a disconnect between you and your actions, his touch the only tether, and every brush takes effort you don't have.

“I didn't say good morning,” he says apologetically, rubbing your shoulders with some loving roughness. “How did you sleep?”

Sleep is a big blob you don't have words for. “Good morning,” you say through toothpaste, leaning your face into his arm.

He kisses whatever bit of your face he can reach. “Good morning.”

“Sorry if I'm dirty.”

“You aren't honey, you're fine. We just need to keep on top of it.”

He pulls away to let you finish your half job, offering you a floss pick that you take on automatic but can't force yourself to use. It stays in your hand all the way to the breakfast table, where you get served sliced fruits and toast with chocolate spread. It's the kind with lots of calories, to keep you going if you can't manage your own lunch. Aaron makes you lunch most of the time if you can't do it yourself and leaves it in a tupperware in the fridge, but actually getting up to reheat it is another thing. You usually do it if your stomach aches but not otherwise. Already, you're wanting to go back to bed. Another day of letting him down.

He gives you your medication divider, sipping at his own mug of coffee. “Jack's coming back tonight. Are you excited?”

“So excited,” you say honestly. “Did he have a good time at, uh, Mason's?”

“I think so. They went to Pizza Hut buffet. He said we have to go for his birthday.” He smiles at you from over the lip of his mug, eyes all manner of tender. “He asked if you're still sleeping.”

“Don't let him worry about me,” you say, half-pleading.

“No, I won't. You know I won't. He's just noticed you're not feeling your best, but it's not a bad thing. He wants to tuck you in.”

“He said that?”

Aaron nods with a smile. “He misses you when he doesn't see you.”

“I miss him… I'm sorry. About all of this. I really…” You look down at your hands. Toast crumbs cling to your fingers, little white ants that catch hold when you attempt to shake them off. You wipe them in your pants. “I promise I'm trying.”

He rounds the table. Takes your face into his hand, but doesn't force your head up. “That's not in question,” he says in his dulcet tone. “We want you to feel as good as you can. It doesn't matter how long it takes.”

“I just want to be better.” I just want this feeling to be over.

He hums into himself, his big hand a warm, steady thing where it covers your cheek. He's so solid.

“Listen,” he says, bending to meet your eye. “Today, I only want you to do three things. Do you think you can do that? If you can't, I won't be mad, but I want you to try.”

“Okay.”

“Firstly, what you said about dinner? That sounds nice. Being active is good for you.” He measures your reaction. You've schooled your features into a determined seriousness that makes him smile. “Alright. Secondly, you take that nice long bath.”

Your seriousness falters. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don't be. It's not like that, sweetheart, I just want you to stay healthy, and to feel good about yourself. That's why I need you to eat lunch too.”

“Is that the third thing?”

“No, the third thing is to give me a kiss because I'm about to be late for work.”

You tip your head up and he kisses you sweetly as always. You let him fawn and fret for a few minutes before he really has to leave, and then it's your fault he's late, calling him back in for a last hug. To be fair to you, it's a hug you really, really need.

“Call me if you need to,” he says, his cheek against your temple. “I'll come home. I promise.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

555 notes · View notes

dduane · 4 months

Text

Okay, time to get on with this Nutella and crushed-hazelnut roll cake I've been plotting for the last couple of weeks. (One of our neighbors did us a favor just now and I want to bring them some of this to say Thank You.)

The recipe looks quite sound—no surprise, as this lady's website is full of great stuff. But I'm going to have to spoof it somewhat, as it's predicated on the use of a sheet pan size that wouldn't fit into our oven (the usual US-size-vs-European-size hardware- and appliance-size issue). Probably I'll wind up baking about 75% of the batter in the 10x15-inch pan I've got and the rest in a smaller 9x7-inch, so that the sheet cake doesn't come out so thick that it refuses to roll correctly.

...Got to toast the hazelnuts first, anyway. I'll add pics to this post as I go along.

ETA 1: The hazelnuts, just out of the oven. The aroma in the kitchen is fabulous. :) (We've got a tabletop microwave-cum-fan oven that has about a hundred custom cooking/baking programs built into it, and one of them is for toasting nuts.) (Oh look, @petermorwood got a shot of one of the special menus from the manual when he was posting about the microwave sponge cake.)

...Had I not had the fancy gadget, I'd have just put the hazelnuts on a baking sheet and toasted them at 180C/375ish F for ten or fifteen minutes, stirring the nuts around every five minutes or so until the outsides went nice and brown. The skins rub right off when the nuts cool down, if you don't want them. But I left some in so they'd keep their toastier flavor. These are a soft nut after toasting/roasting, so they crush really easily.

Meanwhile, while sitting still a moment before getting the mise en place together for the cake, and idly scrolling down through the menu on Sky Movies: wow, I really do need new glasses in a hurry. Saw the movie title "Fred Claus" and read it as "Fried Clams." (sigh) After the holidays, for sure. (It's the usual problem. These glasses are trifocals, you have to point-and-steer them to get the right results depending on what you're looking at, and sometimes you're distracted or in a hurry and can not be bothered to do the hunting-for-focus thing, and as a result you get comical results.) (sigh)

Now the mise en place:

...So typical. You're trying to have it be pretty for the photo and one of the egg yolks breaks. (eyeroll)

Anyway. Not shown here: running off to give the stand mixer's bowl an extra wash to make sure it's absolutely clean, because any grease getting into egg whites being beaten will inhibit how well they fluff up.

So, time to get on with that.

First thing, though: the baking pans need to be prepared while the egg whites and so forth are beating.

So the recipe suggests that you should butter both the pans and the parchment paper used to line them. And speaking as one who's writing this after rolling the cakes up, I can speak directly to its effectiveness. The cake sheets pretty much leapt out of the pans. As I can imagine all too clearly what having to convince them out would be like, better to go overboard with the butter at this stage. I buttered the pans with solid butter and then melted a couple of tablespoonsful and brushed the baking-parchment liners with them.

Lining the pans with the paper, btw, is much assisted by having buttered them first. You just press the paper down and it sticks. Then you go get the scissors and cut off whatever's hanging out.

And now comes the part where you make the cake batter.

First you beat the egg whites and half the granulated sugar to the stiff-peak stage. (Took my mixer about five minutes.)

Then in a different bowl you beat the egg yolks and the rest of that sugar together. Somehow I missed getting a pic of this: apologies. It's the usual "beat together until pale, light, and fluffy." Took about seven minutes for that.

Then: sift together the flour, cocoa, salt and baking powder, The logistics of the original recipe get a little complicated at this point—it sounds like a third bowl is being called for. But at that point I'd decided that I already had more than the usual number of bowls to deal with, not to mention the one I'd just sifted the dry ingredients into. And we don't have a dishwasher. So I just said "The hell with that", added the coffee and vanilla to the egg yolk mixture, and mixed it a bit more: then spooned about half the sifted dry ingredients in, and pulsed the mixer a few times: then added the rest of the dry stuff and mixed again, very slow, just wanting to make sure that everything was completely combined. (As usual with cakes at this point, the idea is to get everything well mixed without doing anything to develop the gluten in the flour. I never let the mixer go very fast.)

...Then comes the "folding in the egg whites" part of the operation. Always use the biggest spatula you've got for this.

Then, when you finish this stage (again, sorry, no pic, I was busy racking my brains over what tool would be best for this job) you spread the batter in the pans.

When I finished with this task I was very glad that I had an offset spatula, because if I'd attempted this with a regular mixing spatula, I don't think the result would have been anything like this even. This batter is light but it's also moderately firm... and with the best will in the world, no amount of shimmying the pans around on the work surface is ever going to even that batter out. As for its thickness in the pans: we're talking about a centimeter at the most.

And then: into the oven for ten minutes, while setting up the pieces of cocoa-powder-dusted baking parchment meant to receive them. I don't have pics of them in the pans when they came out, because the get-them-out-of-the-pans stage is kind of a time-sensitive thing (like immediately). So I got on with it.

They fell straight out onto the prepared sheets with no trouble at all. The small one fell out by itself: the large one fell out with the baking parchment still clinging to it, but not so desperately that it took more than gently lifting it away between finger and thumb to get rid of it.

And then came the rolling. I did the little one by myself, to get a sense of the technique: then asked @petermorwood to video the rolling of the larger one.

youtube

...So now they get left to their own devices until, oh, tomorrow morning, I guess. That's when I'll move on to the next stages.

My plan is to unroll the little cake as a test: brush it inside with warmed/semi-liquid Nutella: sprinkle the Nutella with crushed hazelnuts, which theoretically/please gods will stick to it if gently assisted; and then contrive a filling that will taste at least somewhat of Nutella but not be too sweet to bear. Then the ganache will be made using that fabulous Belgian chocolate that came in a couple of weeks back, and when the whole cake's put together and has had a little time to rest, Peter and I will test it and see if it's something we feel confident enough to offer to other people.

So we'll see how it all goes. Tune in again tomorrow for more hijinks... :)

ETA 2, December 23: When we last saw our cake rolls, the two of them (the one baked in the Euro-size pan, and the smaller one where the spare batter went) were sitting innocently on the counter, waiting to settle enough to be unrolled.

Now's the time. And guess what?

DIsaster! (-Ish. As you'll see.)

The first small sheet of cake was just too small to deal with this treatment without immediately cracking into one-inch slices upon unrolling. I therefore won't waste your time with that video. Instead, you should have a look at the video of the bigger-baked sheet as it gets unrolled, and watch it crack in pieces! (This was either due to the baked sheet being too thick, or too thin. More diagnostics are needed before we come to a verdict.)

But first: the buttercream filling, which worked just fine.

This is the recipe I used:

This recipe worked perfectly. There's zero reason to inflict a long video about this on you, as I was working in a cold kitchen (with three stone walls, two external...) and the butter and sugar took something like half an hour to get friendly enough so that the Nutella could finally be added.

One thing I will show you, though. It's been a long time since I bothered buying confectioners' sugar / icing sugar, because when I need it, I make it myself... in the (very old and beat up-looking) coffee grinder. The sugar's grind comes up finer than that of a lot of commercially made icing sugars... and unlike too many confectioners' sugars in North America, there's no cornstarch in it (which they put in to keep it from caking with storage).

If you try this, make sure not to forget to brush the grinder out well afterwards, and wipe it clean with a damp paper towel. Otherwise the sugar, which is very hygroscopic, will go solid, glue the blade to its spindle, and be a real nuisance to clean out after the fact.

youtube

Meanwhile, here's the Nutella buttercream frosting after it's done. Just a very quick clip here, so you can see what the texture should be like when you pull the beater out of the mixture. (Volume down on this, please: it's really noisy.) If it's not soft enough, do as the recipe recommends: add a tablespoonful of milk or so and beat well until things soften up a bit. Add another, and do the same again, if you need to.

youtube

So now we come to the baked-cake unrolling. (Apologies for the black bars at the top and bottom of the video. For reasons best known to itself the phone insisted on recording in 9:16/portrait format, and the bars are an artifact of flipping it back into landscape...)

youtube

...So after all that, both cakes, the big and the small, are in the fridge now, stabilizing. And there we'll leave matters until tomorrow.

#cake #baking #Nutella #chocolate #hazelnuts #experimentation #FOR SCIENCE #that's the excuse anyway #Youtube

247 notes · View notes

natsgrave · 5 months

Text

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

While you were out building other worlds, where was I? You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

256 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 5 months

Text

Comfort-Noah Sebastian

*gif created by me. feel free to use(sorry for the poor quality)*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of period, and all-around good fluff.

Summary: Reader suffers from really bad period cramps and Noah takes care of her the only way he knows how.

Authors Note: Again, to the anon who requested this, I'M SO SORRY! I completely forgot so I really hope this makes up for it.

"Angel?"

A soft voice sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a gentle knock. I peered over the piles of blankets that I cocooned myself under and called out that the door was open.

"How're you feeling?" Noah asked with a frown.

I sighed and clutched my lower stomach. "The pain is terrible and the warm compress doesn't seem to do much."

It was like this every month for five days. My period cramps were awful, the pain causing me to be stuck in bed for days. Sometimes it would be so bad that I'd be hunched over the toilet, throwing up. It wasn't anything I enjoyed, so I always made sure that I stayed home away from Noah during those five days once a month. However, since we moved in together last month, this was the second time he'd been able to witness firsthand the pain I went through. And just like last month, he was there for whatever I needed.

"I ran you a warm bubble bath if you think you can make it to the bathroom," he nodded towards the bathroom across the hall.

I sat up slowly. "You didn't have to do that."

Noah shrugged before pulling off the mounds of blankets and taking the now cold compress that I was using to soothe my cramps.

"Soak as long as you need and I'll make you something to eat. What do you want?"

Ignoring the shooting pain that spread across my abdomen, I left a kiss on his lips in a way of saying thanks for running me a bath.

"Honestly, surprise me. Anything sweet."

With a gentle pat to my ass, Noah led me to the bathroom where he parted ways with me to trot back downstairs while I spent the next twenty minutes in the tub letting the warm water and bubbles ease some of the pain away.

Once dressed in a pair of Noah's sweats and oversized shirts, I slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen where I saw Noah leaning over the sink, mixing something in a bowl. He had yet to get dressed for the day, baring all of his tattoos on his stomach, chest, and arms for all, or just me, to see. His long hair was a disheveled mess, but he still looked absolutely breathtaking. If I wasn't on my period, I'd probably make him take me on the counter.

He peered over his shoulder as he heard me walk in, a bright smile on his face. "Did the bath help?"

I nodded while sitting at our kitchen table. "It did, actually. Thank you again."

"Anytime, angel. French toast is almost finished. There's a glass of orange juice and some meds to help with the pain," Noah nodded to the glass and two pills that lay on the table in front of me.

My heart warmed with yet another small but kindest action from him today. After drowning the meds down with half of the orange juice, Noah brought me a plate of steaming hot French toast which I could only eat about half before the cramps made me hiss out in pain.

"Still bad?" he wondered, pushing his empty plate away.

"Yeah, I feel terrible. We had plans to go to the fair with Jesse, but I don't think I can handle walking for hours," I sighed.

Suddenly, Noah's arms pulled me from the chair, and carried me bridal style through the kitchen into the living room where the couch was set up with an array of blankets and pillows, the title screen to my favorite movie on the television.

"What's this?" I asked with a hint of a smile.

As he placed me on the couch and covered me with blankets, he sunk deep next to me, and I wrapped an arm and leg around him. The comfort of the large couch was exactly what I needed in order to deal with this pain.

"This," he pointed to the television. "Is our plans for the rest of the day. If you feel up for it, we can go to the fair tomorrow."

I stared up at him with so much adoration in my eyes that my heart swelled up in two sizes. Everything he had done since the moment I woke up this morning made every single cell in my body vibrate with love; something I'd never thought I'd get from a partner. I was sure if I told someone I was with that I was on my period, the flow heavy and cramps so bad that I could barely move sometimes breath, they would ditch me for the week and come back when I wasn't a mess.

But not Noah. He even changed the sheets this morning when I woke up to the blood staining my pants and the bed. Not once did he turn away in disgust or avoid me? He was what I thought every partner should be for their significant other.

Turning his chin towards me, I placed a firm but quick kiss on his lips, one he had no issue returning.

"I love you," I smiled into the kiss.

Noah brushed his nose over mine. "Anything for you, angel."

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian drabble

244 notes · View notes

m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months

Text

BG3 Companion Modern AU Headcanons

These random thoughts popped into my mind and I had to write them down. I love these little weirdos, and some of them probably don't make sense but OH WELL.

Should I do a Part 2 with more companions?? Let me know - my inbox and requests are open!

------

Astarion

This dude's got iPad kid energy - he loves to scroll Tiktok for hours.

He gets bi-weekly pedicures. And not the basic kind - the full on 1.5 hour long with the massage and the mask and the exfoliation.

His favorite holiday is Halloween. He plans his costume starting in August.

He'd be the type of person to be walking through a mall, see a Claire's, and spontaneously decide to get his ears pierced idk.

Is really into metal. Like, you'll come home and Metallica will be blasting and you walk into the bedroom and he's folding laundry and just like, "Oh, HELLO, Darling!" but will have to scream it over the volume in which he's listening to music

Will truly take an hour picking out the perfect wine to pair with your dinner...he's definitely a wine snob.

The cheapest article of clothing Astarion owns is from Banana Republic and it's an undershirt...everything else is ~*very fancy*~

Loves watching all types of vampire movies/TV shows. He can often be heard saying, "Oh no, they got that all wrong" under his breath.

He definitely reads like 1-2 books a week. He's recently really gotten in spicy smut books (he definitely got recommendations from BookTok).

For sure falls asleep to ASMR videos.

Gale

This man loves HGTV *queue Home Depot commercial music*

Has the most absolutely beautiful, clean home you've ever seen with about 30 bookcases CRAMMED with books. The books are the only disorganized thing in his home because he constantly is reading them, so alphabetizing them is useless.

Pinterest is his most used phone app. His boards are carefully curated. That man has a recipe/inspiration pic/quote for EVERYTHING.

Definitely volunteers at the animal shelter once a month. Often times has to talk himself out of bringing a cat home.

LUSH is his favorite store at the mall. He loves them bath bombs.

He THROWS DOWN at holiday parties...Christmas? Thanksgiving? The table is SET. The decorations are UP. He's wearing an APRON because he's been cooking ALL day. The playlist is PERFECT.

Speaking of holidays, he has matching pajama sets for everyone in the household. For every. Holiday.

Fall is absolutely his favorite season. "Sweetheart...have you ever watched 'When Harry Met Sally'? Perfect autumn movie...also I bought a new scarf today to go with my new peacoat. And mittens. And a new hat...it's getting cold outside."

He definitely has a Live. Laugh. Love. adjacent sign somewhere in his home

He definitely needs glasses to read. And he for sure has those librarian chains so that he can just take them off and they hang, instead of losing them.

Karlach

Absolutely loves to eat meals watching Youtube videos.

Imagine her in Times Square? She tears the M&M's store UP.

Is obsessed with documentaries. She often says things like "I can't believe there's so much stuff to LEARN out there!"

Definitely has a Squishmallow collection. And she rotates which one she sleeps with every night so they all get a chance.

Is absolutely the worst cook of all time but tries really really hard...however, she can make a mean boxed mac n' cheese.

Has an obsession with sugary cereal. There's always Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Fruity Pebbles in her cabinets.

Certified Switie for SURE.

Is really into astrology. Definitely has said, "Oh, you're just saying that because you're a SCORPIO" or the like many, many times.

Absolute Starbucks addiction (venti iced caramel macchiato, extra caramel).

Has monthly "girl's nights" (but everyone is invited) at her place. The rules are: pajamas only, junk food, romcoms, and a playlist of the best pop songs in the past 20 years.

------

How'd y'all like it...should I make a part two with other companions?! Remember my inbox is open and I'm accepting requests!! I'd love to write some stuff so send it in!

#balders gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale fanfic #gale headcanons #gale of waterdeep #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion headcanon #bg3 #karlach #karlach headcanon #karlach fanfic #karlach fan fiction #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 astarion

212 notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 6 months

Text

a collection of random late night thoughts from a high reader: pt ii

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: You're back at it again but this time following a joint Air Force mission in Colorado. Price and Gaz learned their lesson so Ghost and Soap are here to entertain your texts.

read part i here!

pairing: 141, laswell, konig x platonic!reader

warnings: swearing, implied drug use

a/n: okay just a lil something something as I make my way through my inbox! you guys have such cool ideas I SWEAR

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

r/n: guys i’m upset you didn’t show me these pictures of you :(

ghost: what the fuck are you talking about

r/n: these :((

r/n:

r/n: @ghost @soap i'm making some snack do you want some?

ghost: if it’s that crap you bought from walmart i’m good

soap: I SMELL POPTARTS

soap: TOAST THE STRAWBERRY MILKSHAKE ONES

soap: IM COMING DOWNSTAIRS NOW

ghost: please go the fuck to sleep

r/n: do you guys think that if we had a show about us it would get a movie?

ghost: you know half of our missions are top secret

r/n: I KNOW but imagine if it was like marvel and i got to be played by a celebrity

gaz: they're all hotter than you, no one can channel that ugly mug of yours

r/n: FUCKING FIGHT ME YOU ACTOR WANNABE

r/n: if we were a family:

price would be the dad falling asleep to the history channel

laswell is definitely the fun aunt (she sneaks me wine during holidays)

ghost is your angsty older brother who listens to screamo

soap is the middle child who sets fire to things

gaz is the baby brother and is always sticky🤢

r/n: alejandro and rudy are those uncles who you only see on facebook and they’re either at disney or on vacation abroad

soap: correction i set fire to dolls and make them into one supreme action figure

r/n: alejandro you never told me you met lady gaga (*questioned by alejandro*)

r/n: spotify link to alejandro by lady gaga

ghost: i cant see the links

r/n: ofc you’d be the asshole who uses apple music over spotify

r/n: i miss farah

farah: i miss you too <3

r/n: too bad you’re far-ahway

farah: 😐

r/n: i’ve figured it out

r/n: price is lana coded, gaz is hozier, ghost is a mix of artic monkeys and the 1975, and soap is ajr coded (derogatory)

soap: why do you always shit on me

r/n: just listen to bang! that’s so you

r/n: can we get matching tattoos?!?

ghost, gaz, price, soap: no.

r/n: too late, i already sent an artist these

r/n:

ghost: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DONT STOP SINGING THE STATES AND CAPITALS SONG I WILL MURDER YOU

r/n: but i was just getting to delaware :(

r/n: you should use this link, price

price: okay, yeet

gaz: he’s becoming too powerful

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #141 headcanons #mw2 headcanons #fragrance #mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #kate laswell #konig modern warfare #izzie is writing

202 notes · View notes

livewithyura · 3 months

Note

okay so I have this really dumb idea: Jin Kazama x pregnant wife reader (post tekken 8) who is like super clingy always wanting Cuddles/kisses/massages and make it super fluffy

✧ Jin x Reader [ Tekken headcanon!]

❒ ⁀➷ Request open [ tekken only tehe ]

❒ ⁀➷ Answer : Gosh How I love this big guy . Your idea is heartwarming 😔! Jin would be a good husband but I believe he has a little 'clingy' part of him because bro he's literally a mama's boy . This is not a fully one-shot , gotta write some explanation on bullet points!

❒ ⁀➷ Notes : This is my first time taking tekken request , so believe me I'm not that expert!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Morning routine with Jin

You're waking up to do something But Jin Holding your wrist and drags your back to bed. This man refuses to let you go. Your freedom of movement becomes more restricted after he learns about your pregnancy. It's not about control or dominance in the relationship for him . he simply wants to protect you. It can be a bit frustrating when you can't even lift a teacup, as he becomes quite anxious and protective.

"No . 5 minutes" "5 minutes what?" "Stay in bed" And he will rest his head on your chest .

This man tries earnestly to cook for his wife. There was even a time when he accidentally left the stove on fire , Burn the toast , He's so clumsy in kitchen but you're there to help him . At first , he won't let your feet cross the kitchen until he almost set the house on fire .

He will hugs your from the back while kissing the back of your neck . "I will not let that happen again , princess . I swear I will be better in cooking" He will have determination in cooking . Pullin up a hero quotes like "I won't burn the toast anymore , that's my promise" while clenching his fist . [ don't bother him when he's in his main character mode ]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Jin's habits!

He will ALWAYS kiss you while you're doing something . You're reading book? Watching movies? Paint your nails? BRO HE DON'T CARE , He will kiss you anyways. He even will make you both do soft kisses under a blanket in evening . "y/n..." "what?" "How about a kiss?" "Again?" "um--yes?"

Cuddles? Oh he loves that , He will prepare a movie night for his wife just to cuddles with his wife . "we're watching a horror movie , if you're scared you can sit on my lap" the monotone voice of his make his speech more funnier and he's not even blinking when he said that. "SHUT UP AND WATCH THE MOVIE MANN"

He also will do the house chores "Um you know how to use that washing machine RIGHT?" "I'm aware . I mimicked everything my mother did."

After that he demanded a massages , you can't refuse as he always do the ENTIRE house chores . "Y/n..." "What?" "Can I say something.. inappropriate?" "go on" "I'm obsessed with your touch"

He will take care of you . He will clean up your vomit with his expressionless face . He will also steadying your body as you start to stand up or walk . He will make sure to fulfill your request . You want a weird food? He will buy it . You want a relaxing bath? He will prepare it for you . You want a soft pillow? He will buy it. Just called his name , he will be there right in front of you . "Ok , what now Princess?" . He would said that while looking at you.

He will also lend you his baggy hoodie when the temperature is cold.

He will not let you go out alone , he will be there no matter what . "I'll shield you from anything that could harm you, princess. Just give me a call if you want to go buy groceries." he said that while he's resting his head on your lap . "Alright , big guy"

And also , if he want to go somewhere he will drag you . He will never leave you alone . "You.Me.Training.Let's go"

If you refused , he will carry you himself.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Night routine with Jin

You guys will spend the night together . Sometimes , watching movie. Sometimes you guys will have a coffee together or your fav beverages while staring into a starry sky . Talk about philosophy and future plans . Until you fell asleep , he will carry you to bed . Pull the blanket for you and looking at your face until he fell asleep .

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Bonus!

He's clingy since he's a mama's boy . BUT He will NEVER admit it . He will act tough and firm in front of you with his words , but all he need is your love .

"Jin , I just want to go pick up flowers in front of our house" "Okay"

10 minutes later....

"Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?"

"You're little bit clingy , you know that?" "No? I'm not " He said that while his arms around your waist .

I also believe he's so protective because that's what he is , he don't want the tragic moment happen in his life again .

↺Written by yura why you event want to copy and steal this crap? /you can reblog!

#tekken 8 #jin kazama #tekken x reader #tekken #tekken x y/n #tekken fanfic #jin kazama x reader

129 notes · View notes

eywathemother · 1 year

Text

Fish Lips; Introduction

Ship: Aonung x Kiri's twin sister!Reader

This is a series.

Warnings: Language, bullying, gore, fighting, talk of war, injury and blood, slow burn, enemies to lovers (not really a warning just some people don't like that trope), death of (a) character(s), not proofread

Words: 1,840

Keys: (y/n) = your name,,(y/i/n) = your Ikran's name,, Neural Queue= the braid extension of a Na'vi's nervous system that allows them to link up to animals and Ewya,,

Chapters; Introduction || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 ||

Spoilers for Avatar: The Way of Water A whole ass lot.

Please don't make fun of my horrid translation of Na'vi from the movie... I'm not sure if i am 100%, It's so hard as a beginner in Na'vi to figure out the right translation so hopefully I made it grammatically correct or else I'm severely embarrassed. I know I got English and asshole right but that's about it lol.

" We're so toast." You whispered allowed, more to yourself than anyone else. Lo'ak didn't like that and sent you a side glare." Shut up, (y/n)." You rolled your eyes at him with a scoff and turned your head back to the dream walkers. They were wearing military clothing and carried heavy weapons." This is your fault though; you shouldn't have followed those tracks." You grumbled.

Kiri, your sister looked towards you with a glance of agreement. He scoffed but ignored you, keeping his eyes trained on the people.

" Dad's going to ground you." Kiri whispered and Lo'ak rolled his eyes." Stop." Kiri eyed him amusedly at his aggravation. " For life." She continued to tease." Kiri, stop." He said a bit louder.

"Sh, what if they hear us because your loud ass doesn't want to shut up." You hissed and Lo'ak quietly mocked you. Spider and Lo'ak began to whisper about the battlefield, and you just rolled your eyes.

" I gotta call this in." Lo'ak suggested and Spider's eyes widened." No don't we're gonna get in trouble." Spider whispered and he wasn't wrong. Especially you and Lo'ak considering what happened during the raid a few days earlier.

You weren't even technically supposed to be out, being grounded and stuck with your grandmother until your ankle healed. During the raid while you and Neteyam were trying to get Lo'ak off the ground and back to spotting the gunships came in. When running away an explosion that knocked all of you down caused a rock to land on your ankle. Luckily it wasn't heavily but it left bruising and swelling of your ankle.

It hurt to put too much pressure on it, but you didn't want to be stuck to your grandmother's side for weeks." Listen, let's just go. Tuk shouldn't be here anyways." You whispered, rubbing Tuk's arm who looked a bit worried.

Lo'ak took this into consideration and nodded his head once." Let's go." You all turned around and began to move further back into the forest as quietly as you could. Lo'ak began to inform your father as you and Kiri put in your ear piece. You all stopped and huddled down while Lo'ak informed your father.

"What's your provenance?" Jake asked and Lo'ak and Spider glanced at each other while your rubbed Tuk's shoulder. Tuk was mostly worried about getting in trouble, but you had anxiety of the possibility of your guys escape souring.

" Uhh, we're at the old shack." Lo'ak said, glancing at Spider who shook his head.

"Who's we?" Jake asked and Lo'ak hesitantly spoke everyone's names. Jake began to give instructions and soon you were heading out of the area in a hurry.

" We're going to be in so much trouble." Kiri hissed at Lo'ak and Tuk who was in front turned around." It's almost eclipse come on!" When she turned back around one of the soldiers from before popped out and grabbed Tuk.

She let out a scream and almost immediately you all grabbed your weapons and started hissing at them. In a few seconds you were surrounded by a whole squad. You began to drop your weapons as they screamed at you to do so.

A soldier came around, grabbing you roughly and pulling your Neural Queue. you let out a yell and hissed at the guy pulling your braid. It only made him pull harder and he kicked the back of your knees bringing you down to the ground.

The one holding down Kiri grabbed her hands and almost looked happy to see that she had five fingers." Colonel, four fingers. We got a Halfbreed."

He glanced at Kiri and her fingers before moving to Lo'ak, demanding him to show his fingers. Lo'ak being Lo'ak showed them but decided to flip him off while doing so.

The guy chuckled." You're his. Aren't you?" Lo'ak responded with a hiss but that only seemed to confirm this guy's question." You're his alright."

He grabbed Lo'ak's braid, pulling him up to his feet as Lo'ak cried out in pain." Where is he?" At first he didn't answer but Colonel pulled his braid again." Ngaytxoa (I'm struggling with the translation on this part) 'ìnglìsì...ne vonvä (Sorry, I don't speak English to assholes)."

Colonel tugged again." Peseng ngeya sempul(Where is your father?)?" He tugged harder this time, making Lo'ak scream. He held his ground though, hissing at Colonel.

"Really you wanna play it this way?" Colonel took out his knife, leaning it towards Lo'ak's neck.

"Ftang(stop)!!" You shouted, Kiri crying out as well. Colonel stopped, throwing Lo'ak down. He turned walking towards Kiri." Kehe(no)!" You shouted pulling against the mans grips.

"Kehe, no, stop!" Lo'ak shouted miserably failing to get up and intervene only to be held by his braid once more. "Stop! Don't touch her!" Spider shouted, trying to pull from his captures grip. Colonel stopped in front of Spider, like he knew him." Please don't hurt her please." Lo'ak pleaded behind him.

"Whats your name, kid?" Quaritch asked and Spider glared at him." Spider. Socorro." He answered and something seemed to click in the man's mind because a small smile appeared on his face." Miles?" Spider shook his head a bit." Nobody calls me that."

'Is this man somehow related to Spider?' You thought as you watched the weird exchange between them." Well I'll be damned. I thought they sent you back to Earth."

"You can't put babies in Cryo dipshit." Spider responded and an uncomfortable silence fell in the air. Finally Colonel stood up." What are we doing boss?" The one holding Spider asked, as Colonel pushed his communicator on." Iron sky blue unactual."

"We're standing by for extract." he responded." We are bringing in high value prisoners." You all began to be moved and Kiri tugged and pulled." Let us go." The one holding her yanked her back." Shut up."

They moved you all and sat you down, tugging and barking 'shut ups' when any of you spoke. As you struggled against your capture a video of what sounded like Jake and the guy standing as boss played.

As the sky began to turn to Eclipse, they gathered you in a line. Waiting for something, you assumed was your father. It began to rain as you all waited, listening intently for any signs of your mother or father.

Then you heard your mothers calling, ears perking up you waited for your time to move. Kiri mumbled comforts of her own under her breathe, the soldier holding her eventually got tired of it. Yanking her head down he aggressively told her to shut up.

An arrow hit his head only a few seconds after. As they started shooting you took your chance. Moving your hands upwards you grabbed the man's arm, biting into it enough to draw blood. He screamed and when he let go you took your chance.

Following Tuk you ran as fast as you could, Lo'ak helping you over the log towards the escape route. You weren't fast enough and your braid was soon yanked back. Falling backwards you landed next to one of the soldiers. He grabbed your knife he had been holding onto and put it to your throat.

" You listen here, I-" But before he could finish an arrow went into his head. You felt a sting on the bottom left side of your neck, but you paid no mind and began to run to where Lo'ak and Tuk disappeared. You caught up to Lo'ak and Tuk who were stopped with the rest of your family.

"(y/n)!" Jake called out. He ran over, reaching his arms out as you held your neck." They got me a bit." You huffed, and he removed your hand from your neck. Neytiri came over, analyzing the cut. It wasn't deep but you were losing blood. He put your hand on it." Keep pressure on it. Don't move your hand." He rushed you to his Ikran, helping you up and immediately flying off as everyone else followed quickly.

You knelt next to Kiri who was listening next to your Marui, Tuk had her head down peaking inside. Your wound had been stitched up and bandaged and they finally let you go after an hour of monitoring you. You were a bit pale from some blood loss and they recommended to take it easy. Lo'ak and Neteyam had stay next to you the entire time, taking peaks at your wound and either making teasing comments or talking about a cool scar forming.

" What's going on?" Neteyam asked as they both came and squatted where you guys were. Kiri immediately silenced them, and you all began to listen to their conversation.

" I cannot, you cannot ask this." Neytiri stated, and you heard her move." I cannot leave my people." She set something down." I will not." She defied.

"He's hunting us." Your father replied, and your ears went back as you listened." He's targeting our family." He sounded so tired, and it made you feel bad for making him worry today." You cannot ask this!" Neytiri yelled at him." The children, everything they've ever known, the forest. This is our home!" She screamed at him.

" He had our children. He had them under his knife." A small silence passed." We got lucky (y/n)'s neck wasn't cut any higher, she could've died!" he huffed, and a tense silence broke out between them. You stared straight ahead but you could feel the glances from your sisters and brothers.

Your mother sighed, a few seconds later you could hear her pick up something." My father gave me this bow, as he lay dying! And he said protect the people." She said a bit more quietly." You're Toruk Makto!"

" This will protect the people!" His voice was sounding more agitated the more he had to explain." Quaritch has Spider, that kid knows everything!"

You glanced at your siblings, all of you sharing a look before going back to listening. " He knows our whole operation! He could lead them right in here!"

" If the people harbor us, they will die." You knitted your eyebrows together, hating that your father was telling truths. " Do you understand?"

Another silence fell and you could hear your mothers' huffs of emotion, distraught by the thought of leaving her people behind." Look I got nothing, I got no plan." Your father admitted." But I can protect this family, that I can do."

You knew what this meant, this meant you were leaving your home. Kiri rubbed your shoulder in comfort, and you grabbed her hand in silent thanks.

You could hear your mother begin to cry." But I know one thing." He paused." Wherever we go, this family is our fortress." You looked at your siblings and you all snuck away quietly to go to a spot and talk about what you just heard.

Later that night they had brought you into the Marui to tell you the news you were expecting. You were leaving your home, to go far away, to protect the people and your family. You were upset, beyond upset really, and you knew everyone else was too.

You didn't get much sleep last night, thinking about how you will most likely never get to see your friends, or call the Omaticayan clan your people ever again.

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar #aonung x reader #aonung #atwow x reader #aonung x you

1K notes · View notes

luvrrszn · 7 months

Text

and they were roommates *

COLLEGE ROOMATE!MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER (18+)

summary miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

warnings [all sexual themes are at the bottom end of the post] explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, not proofread

a/n (gif posted originally by @/cantstoptheimagines, can't figure out tumblr's gif shit so i'm doing this instead, hope that's okay :)) guys i'm so bad at writing smut please go easy on me also if u have requests PLEASEEE send them in i'm so bored

masterlist

"oi! you left your panties on the countertop again, you goblin! take it back!" miguel yells at you from your shared bathroom.

"my bad." you mumble, a piece of toast in your mouth as you shuffle into the bathroom, in a hurry to grab your underwear off the marble countertop.

miguel watches, amused, as you scramble to get your things together before your 8am class. it's 7:48am, and it takes you at least 15 minutes to drive to campus, and that's if you make every green light on your way there.

you're lacing up your sneakers by the door as miguel pours himself a cup of coffee. he walks over to shut the door behind you after you leave. as you run down the hallway to the elevator, he calls out after you, "buy some juice on the way back, we're out of that."

you give him a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner.

—

you're cooking your favourite homemade meal—pesto pasta. turning off the stove, you turn around to grab a bowl from the shelves. when you turn back around, you see miguel hunched over your pan of pasta, mouth stuffed with food. YOUR food.

you slap him away from the pan, as he feigns hurt, "ow, ow, that hurts. now you gotta give me pasta to make up for it."

"you ate two bowls of instant noodles already, how are you still hungry? get away, boy." you swat his fork away.

"c'mon, please?"

you roll your eyes and give in.

you were never truly going to say no to miguel o'hara. you had cooked enough for two because you knew this was going to happen, and you knew you weren't going to say no to miguel.

—

"miguel! stop using my shampoo! and my lotion! you know they're super expensive, get your own!" you yell at him from the bathroom, inspecting the fullness—or now, emptiness of your body care products.

"hey, mami, what can i say? those are the real deal." he replies, barely looking away from his laptop.

"yeah, and they cost a shit ton. stop using my stuff and go back to your nasty 30-in-1 soap or whatever." you huff, glaring at miguel angrily.

—

saturday evenings are spent at the dining table going over the grocery list, preparing for your weekly sunday grocery runs.

saturday nights are spent on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.

sunday mornings are spent at the grocery store, wandering down the aisles even though you've been there every sunday for the past year and a half, ever since you moved in with miguel after a mutual friend introduced the two of you upon finding out you were both looking for a roommate.

sunday noons are spent unpacking the bags of groceries, which more often that not contain bags of junk food that miguel somehow managed to sneak into the cart.

sunday afternoons are spent doing laundry. miguel loads the washing machine while you handwash the delicate pieces that require extra care. afterwards, you toss what can be put into the dryer into the dryer while miguel hangs up the rest of the clothes to dry. then, the two of you settle into a comfortable routine of folding laundry.

that's just how it was. every week, without fail.

—

the moment you fell for miguel was when you caught a horrible cold and he took care of you.

despite you trying to shoo him away multiple times, he never gave up.

"come on, princesa. you're sick, let me help you."

"i look like a hot mess right now, miguel. just leave me alone, i'll be okay." barely finishing your sentence, you broke out in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"no can do. you're sick, so get your ass back into bed. i'll bring you some chicken soup, so for now, just rest." miguel replied, placing a bottle of water and some cold medicine on your bedside table.

when he returned, he found you curled up in your bed, duvet tucked under your chin. he placed the bowl of soup on your bedside table, before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, only to realise that you were burning up.

"take your meds, princesa. you're running a fever."

with his help, you washed your fever medicine down with a gulp of water. then, you snuggled back under the duvet. when miguel turned to leave, your hand shot out from under the duvet, grabbing his wrist. you croaked out a "stay".

without a word, miguel got into bed next to you, slipping his arm under your head. you curled into his chest, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

—

the moment miguel fell for you was when you left to visit family during summer break and he opened the refrigerator to find each shelf lined with containers of food.

you had left that morning, hand gripping your suitcase handle as you said to miguel, "try not to die, finding a new roommate with such short notice would be hard."

miguel grinned and flipped you the bird as you turned around and disappeared down the hallway to the elevator. closing the door behind him, miguel beelined for the refrigerator. maybe there was some yogurt he could have for a quick breakfast.

upon opening the refrigerator, he found that each shelf was packed containers of home-cooked meals, all prepared by you. well, that answered the question of why the apartment smelled so good when he got home last night.

there were containers of pasta, rice, chicken, salad, whatever you could think of, it was there. turning around, miguel spotted the sticky note you had left on the kitchen island. he picked up the light pink sticky note and read your note.

"seriously though, miggy. try not to die. i'd be a little sad if you did."

he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

—

you are the one who first confesses your feelings. on saturday night, after movie night, you gather all your courage and say, "miguel, look, i-i have to tell you something. and when i do, or even after i do, i need you to promise you won't hate me."

miguel's heart is racing. worries fill his head and his heart, and he can't help but wonder if you are going to tell him that you want to move out. he takes a deep breath, and replies steadily, "i could never hate you. go ahead, princesa."

you turn to look at miguel, and you say, "you're my best friend, and there's nothing i wouldn't do for you. you know that, right?" he nods.

taking in a shaky breath, you continue, "i like you. and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i can't remember a time where i didn't know you, and i'm not sure i want to either. so if you don't feel the same way, can we at least still stay—"

"shut up," miguel cuts you off.

you're taken aback, stammering, "w-what?"

"just shut up," miguel repeats as he moves towards you, encasing your lips with his. you let out a slight gasp, and miguel takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more. it's hungry and passionate, but also gentle and reassuring. words were no longer needed; words weren't enough for miguel to express how much he liked you back.

you let miguel take control. you surrender, savouring every moment of the kiss.

and it leaves you breathless.

—

from that night on, nothing much changes. but at the same time, everything changes.

your weekend routines remain the same, but throughout the week, there's sex. so. much. sex.

miguel's sex drive is crazy, and you can barely keep up. not that you're complaining.

"miguel," you let out a breathy moan. your left hand is tangled in his hair, your right hand littering his back with scratches. miguel fucks you relentlessly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you in one fluid motion.

his hands slide downwards towards your nipple, and he toys with them, tugging gently and rubbing them between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. one of his hands slides even further downwards, and traps your clit. he rubs slow circles on it, drawing a moan past your lips.

his coordination is crazy, and you're stimulated in all the right places.

miguel senses that you're near your climax, and he speeds up, slamming into you with such tenacity that you almost believe he's in such a rush because the world might be ending in two seconds.

miguel goes faster, rougher, deeper, helping you chase your finish. the knot in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens—then it snaps. you scream miguel's name as you cum all over his cock and go limp, seeing stars from what you think might have been the best orgasm of your life.

still deep in you, miguel feels every contraction of your pussy around his cock. you tighten around him, and after two more strokes of his hips, you're milking his cock for every drop of his cum.

out of breath, you lay there on the bed while miguel cleans up the mess on the bedsheets.

—

that afternoon, as you take out the trash, you bump into your next door neighbour, mrs palma. she looks and you and chuckles, "glad the two of you finally got together, but keep it down, wouldya, sweetheart?"

you turn as red as a tomato.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #across the spider-verse

163 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Things finally boil over for Bradley. You don't understand the full extent of what you've done and how much you've hurt him until after a phone call and too much to drink.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing and smut

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my Masterlist!

"I hate to say it, but this is not the worst date we have been on together," Bradley told Jake, pouting as they sat down together in the movie theater.

"Hey, I had fun at hot sauce class. You were the one who was grouchy," Jake told him before shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. "Now why couldn't Angel come tonight?"

"Work," Bradley muttered, popping a few Junior Mints into his mouth. "Busy with work."

He had felt a lot better today. Work was going well for him, and instead of feeling neglected, he forced himself to feel happy for you. It wasn't his accomplishment, but it was the next best thing.

"She's been working a lot?" Jake asked cautiously. "Barely seen her around. Usually you can get her to eat lunch with us a few times a week."

"She's been working nonstop," he said quietly. "I miss seeing her at lunchtime, too."

Jake cleared his throat as the lights dimmed. "It's not another Josh kind of thing, is it?"

Bradley's jaw dropped. He hadn't even considered that.

"No," Jake said quickly. "I'm sure it's nothing like that. She would have told you if there was a guy giving her a hard time."

Bradley swallowed against his fear. "I think she's just trying her best to be as successful as she can while she has a good commanding officer. She's kind of chasing that next promotion, you know? And this project deadline is coming up soon. Hopefully things get easier after that."

"And then you two lovebirds can plan your wedding," Jake said.

"Right," Bradley replied as the previews started. "Right."

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

You were holding up your champagne flute and smiling brightly. Your entire group was seated in the private room of a rooftop restaurant along the beach. Your belly was full of seafood and wine, and now the desserts were coming out. It had been weeks since you were eating on a real schedule, and you'd probably feel sick tomorrow, but you had as much as you wanted.

Bradley would love it here. You would have to tell him about it and bring him one day. Maybe you could make some seafood for him this weekend as a treat. Maybe he could help you practice your presentation. You could make a game out of it again.

You returned your attention to the toast and took a sip before taking a bite of chocolate cake. You were tired, and kind of ready to go home, but everybody else wanted to hit another spot for drinks, so you agreed to go.

And after three more drinks, you realized you were going to need to wait around for a while before you could drive home. It was late, and you didn't want to call Bradley for a ride. You knew he would come get you, but there was no sense in waking him up. And even if he was up, you didn't want to have to come retrieve your car before work tomorrow morning.

This was fine. Tomorrow was Friday. You were way ahead of schedule with work now. You could spend a day with Bradley. You could catch up on some sleep.

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

Bradley was easily persuaded to join Jake at the Hard Deck. It was better than going home to a house without you in it. But it was Thursday, and there were no other aviators there.

"This is weird, Hangman," Bradley said as they shot some pool. "We never come here on Thursdays."

"True," Jake said, lining up a nice shot. "But, I'm a little worried about you. Plus, it'll be easier for me to pick up a girl with your ugly mug next to me."

Bradley gave him a blank stare.

"I'm kidding, Bradshaw. Clearly. You bagged yourself a dime. You couldn't be that ugly."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered, focusing on his next shot.

"Now you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Bradley looked at his former nemesis turned friend. He knew you and Jake were friends as well, so he felt a little weird talking to him about you. He preferred to do that with Nat for a number of reasons. But he couldn't help himself. He shook his head slightly. "She won't work on any wedding planning with me. I'm not even sure she wants to."

Jake frowned. "You tried talking to her?"

Bradley took a long drink of beer. "Yeah. Just blames everything on work. I'm sick of asking her about it." He set his empty down and shook his head. "I don't know what happened. Everything feels wrong now."

"Jesus, man. Let me get you another beer," Jake said before setting down his pool cue and ambling up to the bar.

Bradley re-racked the balls and practiced breaking a few times while he waited. He didn't realize anyone was behind him until he heard a voice.

"Hey, you're really good."

He turned to see a cute girl. Bright eyes. Pretty smile. Probably in her late twenties. Exactly the kind of girl he would have tried to take home with him.

Bradley glanced up at the bar and saw that Jake was in heavy conversation himself, so Bradley nodded and said, "Thanks."

She smiled and licked her lips, and Bradley's mind took him there. He thought about how easy it would be to hook up with her. He knew it would be. It could be a one time thing. Meaningless. Just the way he used to operate. You would never have to know about it.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was engaged to you, a walking, talking dream. How could his mind have possibly gone there? He was disgusting.

"So, you wanna teach me how to play pool?" she asked, inching closer until her hand was resting on his chest.

Bradley didn't respond. He couldn't even figure out how to breathe correctly. He didn't even fucking deserve you.

He shook his head. "No, sorry. I'm not interested," he said before moving away from her and heading for the door.

"Bradshaw! Where are you going?" Jake asked as Bradley walked past.

"Home."

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

You tried to come in as quietly as you could, but Tramp still came running to the front door. It was so late. You were exhausted, but you also really wanted to take a shower. When you walked into your bedroom and found Bradley asleep, you decided to skip the shower and just curl up next to him. After you brushed your teeth and took your contacts out, you got undressed and just climbed right into bed.

You were dying for a good night of sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day, but then you'd have two in a row off. You pressed your naked body against Bradley's, and that was when you realized how much he reeked like liquor.

How much had Jake let him drink? Did he drive home like this?

"Bradley?" you whispered. "Are you okay, Roo?" you asked a little louder.

He groaned, "I'm going home."

You kissed his cheeks. "You are home, Roo. I just got home as well."

"Baby Girl," he mumbled, rolling over toward you. He smelled like he drank an entire bottle of bourbon, but at least he seemed to be okay.

"Yeah, I'm here," you told him, letting him pull you against his body. You dozed off with his strong arms wrapped around you.

Then you woke up to the sounds of him getting sick in the bathroom. You climbed out of bed just as the first rays or sunlight were filtering through the bedroom windows.

"Are you okay?" you asked him as he sat in front of the toilet cradling his head.

He turned to face you, his brown eyes raking over your body. He looked terrible, but you could still see the longing on his face. "Yeah," he told you, his voice hoarse.

"Did you and Jake overdo it last night?" you asked, running your fingers gently through his hair. He seemed to melt into your touch.

"Something like that," he groaned, turning back toward the toilet to be sick again.

"Roo, how are you going to go to work like this?" you asked. He should know better. Maverick would ground him for the day in this condition.

"Very carefully," he told you with a grimace as he stood and washed his face.

"Okay," you hesitantly agreed as you started to get yourself ready for work. "Want me to make you some coffee?"

"Sure."

You finished getting yourself ready and left some plain toast and black coffee on the counter for Bradley.

"Do you need anything before I leave?" you asked softly. He was halfway dressed and sitting on the end of the bed.

"No, Sweetheart. I'm fine." But he really, really didn't look fine. He looked miserable, sick, hungover and sad.

"Listen," you told him. "It's Friday, and we have the whole weekend to ourselves. I'll probably work a little late tonight, but when I get home, I'll make dinner and we can relax. Sound good?"

He looked up at you and nodded.

"Perfect. Bye, Roo," you told him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

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

Bradley deserved to feel this shitty. After the thoughts in his mind last night, he honestly deserved much worse than this. He hated himself right now, and he didn't deserve you. Even on your worst day, you weren't as bad as he was. That's why he drank half a bottle of scotch when he got home from the Hard Deck. He just wanted those thoughts out of his mind.

But damn it, he also wanted some sort of reassurance from you. Every time he asked for you to plan even the smallest wedding detail, you shut him down. And he didn't want to push you too hard right now, because he knew you were busy. You had Annapolis coming up. This was all very important to you.

He wanted to feel like he was important to you too, though.

He scrambled through work, thankful it was only a classroom day. When Jake tried to ask him why he left the bar so suddenly, Bradley didn't know what to say.

"Was it that pretty little thing talking to you?" Jake asked, and Bradley's eyes snapped up to his. "You could have tossed her my way, you know. Instead of running out like your ass was on fire."

"I told her I wasn't interested. Nothing happened."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Obviously nothing happened. Look, Angel's not gonna care that some little airhead touched you, Bradshaw."

"Right," he agreed. "She wouldn't care about that."

But that's not what had Bradley rattled. He was starting to question too many things. He needed to get himself home and wait for you. He would demand your attention.

So when he got there, he sat on the couch with Tramp, but then he decided to just finish the rest of the bottle of scotch to help him relax a little bit. When Jake texted asking if it was okay to come over and workout in the garage, Bradley responded and told him that was fine.

He sipped more of the scotch and ate a bag of the disgusting, unsalted pretzels you liked. He finished the bottle around seven o'clock and was just about to pass out on the couch when he remembered that he had hung up the dirty calendar you gave him in the garage next to his weight bench.

"Shit," he hissed, rolling off the couch and making his way out to the garage. He could already hear Jake's music playing, and then he noticed his car in the driveway. Bradley was having a really difficult time walking, but he did manage to get inside the garage.

"Bradshaw," Jake said in greeting as he did some bicep curls.

Bradley shook his head and unclipped the calendar from the wall. "Don't look at her."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, it's a little late for that, man. Angel looks good in red though. And if I haven't already told you before, you are one lucky asshole."

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and turned back toward the house.

"Are you okay? Wait, are you drunk?" Jake asked, hopping up from the bench and following Bradley. "Whoa. What the fuck is going on?"

Bradley tried to stand still, but his head was spinning. "I don't know."

"Let's go inside," Jake suggested softly, guiding Bradley back into the house and helping him sit on the couch.

Bradley watched him bring in a glass of water and some crackers. "Eat and drink some water. I'm going to call Angel."

"No... don't bother her at work. She's busy." Bradley closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning.

But he could already hear Jake talking on the phone.

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

"Hey, Jake, I'm a little busy," you said when you answered your phone. "What do you need?"

He was silent for a beat, and your heart started pounding.

"Angel, I think you should come home right now."

"What happened? Where's Bradley?" you asked, tossing your computer into your bag and heading for your office door.

"Can you just come home?"

Now you were scared as you rushed out of your building. What happened to Bradley? And why was Jake at your house? When you finally pulled into your driveway, you saw Jake's car. And when you rushed inside, he was there talking to Bradley.

"What happened?" you asked, out of breath.

"Sweetheart," Bradley groaned from the couch. He was clutching the calendar you gave him to his chest. You watched his eyes slide in and out of focus as he looked at you, reaching for you as he tried in vain to stand up. Sinking back to the couch with a deep sigh, his eyes drifted closed.

"He's drunk again?" you asked Jake. "Why did you let him get trashed again? He was a mess last night and this morning!"

"What are you talking about?" Jake asked. "He only had one beer with me last night. Ran away when some cute girl started flirting with him. Didn't even stay for a second drink. And he was already like this when I got here an hour or so ago."

You let Jake's words sink in as you tried to puzzle through this mess. Bradley must have gotten drunk here last night. He must have been trying to do it again tonight when Jake found him.

"You came over to use the garage?" you asked, eyeing up his gym clothes.

"Yeah. Rooster came stumbling in and took down all the scenery," Jake said, pointing at Bradley. Well, at least the calendar's presence made sense now. "Red is definitely your color."

"Shut up," you told him, making your way over to Bradley. "Are you okay, Roo?"

He cracked his eyes open and nodded. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to walk Jake out. I'll be right back." Bradley whimpered in response and nodded his head as you stroked your fingers along his flushed cheeks.

Jake took you firmly by the hand, and you followed him out onto the porch.

"Listen, Angel. I don't mean to pry, but why are you putting him through the wringer like this?"

You gasped. "What?"

Jake ruffled your hair before you could duck out of the way. "He's crazy about marrying you. Just tell him you're looking at dresses or you picked out some exotic flowers or you know what flavor cake you want. Give him a little hope. It'll go a long way."

He was already walking to his car when you let your shoulders slump. "No," you whispered as you rushed back inside.

Now Bradley was up and walking around, still holding the calendar.

"Roo, why don't you sit down and I'll get you something to eat?"

"Not hungry," he told you, pacing over toward the piano.

"Okay, well how about we sit on the couch together?"

His eyes went a little wide. "You'll let me touch you?"

You nodded your head and took him by the hand, but you were starting to feel like shit. "Yeah, you can touch me."

You guided him to sit down, and then you started to unlace your boots. His unsteady eyes followed your every move as you took them off and set them near the front door. When you sat next to him, he curled up with his head in your lap, running his hands along your uniform pants. He kissed your legs through the fabric before letting his cheek rest on your thigh.

"You look really nice in khaki," he told you, his voice deep and raspy.

"So you've told me. I've also heard I look nice in red," you said, raking your fingers through his hair.

"Fucking Hangman shouldn't have been looking at that," Bradley muttered, nuzzling the back of his head against your belly. You were just thankful the photo with your bare breast wasn't the one on display in the garage.

You took a deep breath. "You gonna tell me what's wrong, Roo?"

Bradley sighed. "I wish you still wanted to marry me," he told you, and you felt like someone had kicked you in the stomach.

"Bradley. I do," you promised him as tears stung your eyes. But he was wrapping his arm around your leg and starting to doze off.

Okay, so you had made a mess of things. Even Phoenix and Jake could tell what was going on, but you were so absorbed in your own work projects, you had been oblivious. And now Bradley was drunk, again, and you couldn't even put his mind at ease.

You let him sleep, running your fingers along his cheek and looking down at his beautiful face while you cried. You had to fix this. And you needed to do it this weekend. You had one more week here before you left for Annapolis, and you needed Bradley to know you wanted to marry him. You wanted to do everything with him.

When he started to stir a little bit, you helped him stand and walked him to the bedroom. "Let's get you undressed," you told him softly, peeling his shirt and jeans off. He just did whatever you said, so you sent him into the bathroom to brush his teeth while you got him a fresh glass of water and something for the headache he was going to have in the morning.

You were waiting for him next to the bed, and when he climbed in, he said, "She wanted me to teach her how to play pool, Sweetheart."

"Who?" you asked, handing him the water.

He shrugged and shook his head before he snuggled back against the pillow. "I dunno. It was a girl."

You kissed his forehead and started to get undressed from your uniform. Bradley got hit on all the time at the Hard Deck. If there was something you should be worried about, Jake would have told you.

You climbed in bed with him until he was definitely asleep. But it was still pretty early, and you had been neglecting more than just Bradley. So you slipped out of bed and gathered up all the laundry. Then you cleaned the kitchen and pulled out ingredients to make a nice lunch tomorrow. Then you cleaned the entire house before you got your phone out to text Jake.

You scrolled through your calendar, and your eyes caught on what was listed in your schedule for Monday. You'd take the day off. You would use some of your vacation time and spend the day at home. Everyone would just have to get over it.

And then you started to look at wedding dresses. Because you wanted to. You also knew you wanted that weird confetti cake batter as your wedding cake. Bradley always complained it was too sweet, but you would insist upon it to the point where he would concede and smile and kind of grunt at you.

You emailed three dresses to your mom and Maria, and then you took a quick shower before climbing into bed. When you were both awake, you and Bradley would have a calm, rational conversation about what was going on.

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

Bradley woke up with a pounding head. And he was pissed off. He was fucking angry about everything. He was mad that Jake saw his calendar. He was mad that you came home and took care of him. He was mad that the house was cleaned up. He was mad that he was throwing up again. God, now his ribs were aching, and he was laying on the bathroom floor.

He wasn't a fuck up. Not entirely. He hadn't let the house get too bad while you'd been busy working. He'd managed to feed himself. He hadn't chatted up that girl at the bar. In fact, he'd come home on Thursday night and jerked off while thinking about you.

God damn it, he would be a fucking great husband, and he knew it. He remembered all the dumb shit so you didn't have to. Like when to pay the bills, when to buy dog food, when to change the oil in your piece of shit car. He even remembered to change the batteries in the smoke detectors.

He let Tramp lick his ear while he rolled over to stand up so he could wash his face and brush his teeth. Then he sat on the floor in front of the sink, and the pup climbed into his lap. He scratched him behind the ears and tried to calm down, because he was fucking mad at you, too.

There was no way he was going to beg you for your affection, but he would demand your attention today if he had to. He wanted a real reason why you didn't want to plan a wedding. You'd been engaged for two months already, and you couldn't even tell Bradley one single detail you wanted. And if you didn't want to get married, he deserved to hear you tell him why not.

"Roo," you said softly from the bathroom doorway. He looked up at you, wearing one of his Top Gun tee shirts, and he wanted to bend you over and fuck you. He also wanted to yell at you until he felt better. So instead of doing either of those things, he just sat on the floor and stared at you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

He cleared his throat. "What are you sorry for?"

He watched you swallow hard and swipe your fingers across the tip of your nose. You were going to cry. He could already tell. But Bradley refused to get up and comfort you.

"I made a mess," you told him, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "I've been working a lot and neglecting too many things."

"What things?" he pressed, tired of dealing with this shit. Tired of trying to pry information out of you when most of the time you weren't even home. "And I swear to God, if you tell me we can't have a conversation right now because you need to go to work, I am going to lose my mind."

Tears started to stream down your face, and the sight actually made him feel a little better. "You! I've been neglecting you! And myself! Us!" You were sucking in air as you tried to talk.

Bradley nodded and watched you grab the door frame. "Yeah," he agreed, making you cry harder.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to get through this work project, because it's important to me. I told you before we even started dating that work is important to me. You know how much I love what I'm working on now. And women don't get promoted as quickly as men."

Bradley nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, I understand that. And I know it's important to you, and I know promotions aren't always fair. I guess I just got used to being on your list of important things."

You swiped the tears away from your cheeks and took a step toward him. "You are on my list, Bradley! You're at the top. And I'm sorry we aren't having sex as much as you want, but how do you think I feel when you're deployed for weeks or months?"

"No," he said, setting Tramp down and standing up. "That's not fair. I can jerk off when I need to. That's not the problem. And I don't need you to give me pity blowjobs to get me off your back. It's not about that, and you know it."

"Pity blowjobs?" you asked, still inching closer.

Bradley ran his hands over his face, suddenly wishing he was wearing more than just his underwear as your gaze dipped downward. "I've had to practically beg you to let me touch you for the past three weeks. And every time I try to be with you physically, you turn me down."

"Bradley." Your voice sounded pitiful, and your face was all red and splotchy now. "I'm sorry."

He took a step in your direction but raised his voice. "Why don't you want to plan a wedding with me?"

"I.... do.... I want to."

Bradley threw his hands in the air. "I can't plan this without you! I don't even know what you want to do, because you won't tell me anything! Two months of asking, and I have no information from you! And you haven't asked me what I want to do. Not once."

"Roo," you whispered, your lips quivering.

"We can wait and get married next year if you want to. We can get married tomorrow. For all I fucking care, we can get married in Spain or New Zealand or Maryland or our back fucking yard! I don't care! I just want to know what you want! I'm begging you!" He realized he was yelling, but he couldn't stop now. "Do you even want to marry me at all?"

"Yes!" you yelled back. "Yes, Bradley, I want to marry you! I want confetti cake! And I want to wear your mom's veil, because it's prettier than anything you can buy today! I already emailed three wedding dresses to my mom! And I don't want to look at the venue in Laguna Beach, because it looks too fancy in an annoying way!"

Bradley's heart was pounding. His head still ached, and he still felt nauseous, but your shouted words and scratchy voice were soaking through his skin and making him feel better than he had in weeks. He watched you clench and unclench your fists as you took deep breaths. "Well, fuck! Baby Girl, why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"Because I feel overwhelmed!" you told him, your voice echoing around the bathroom. "If I can't keep it together now, how is this going to work later?" Your voice softened to a whisper. "I'm scared I won't be enough for you."

Bradley's eyes went wide. "Baby Girl, you're everything," he promised, rushing forward to grab you. He pulled you against his body and mashed his lips against yours before gently letting his fingers ease up along your body until he was holding your face in both hands. "Everything."

You kissed him back, whispering his name, and his entire body was aching. "Roo." Your voice was questioning, pleading with him to understand.

He scooped you into his arms and devoured your mouth, relentless until you were gasping. Then he eased himself to his knees and set you gently on the floor, the back of your head coming to rest on the tub mat. You pulled him down by his hair, and he whispered against your neck, "You're more than enough. You always will be."

You moaned as he pressed his body weight on top of yours and ran his rough palms up along your thighs and over your bare ass and pussy. Bradley kissed your face, your cheeks still pink and damp and cool from your tears. Your tears gave him relief this time; he felt so thankful that you shed them.

Your voice was nothing but a broken whisper as you told him, "I need you."

He kissed your lips, holding your chin with one hand. "I need you, too," he promised. "I always will. Please don't forget that." Bradley eased your thighs apart, settling himself against your core. You rocked against him, your fingers gripping his hair tight and keeping his mouth on yours.

"Please, please," you were gasping against his lips, your teeth grazing his mustache as you pleaded. He loved the way you were needy for him, but he needed you just as much right now.

Wordlessly, he reached between your bodies and stroked your clit softly one time.

"Oh!" you whined, your head automatically tipping back, and he licked a stripe slowly up your perfect neck. He stroked your pussy softly, barely giving you the pressure you needed, which had you writhing. "I love you," you told him, rubbing yourself up against his hand. You were so soaked, he could feel you through his underwear when you rubbed yourself there. "Bradley."

He was instantly yanking down the elastic and pulling himself free. He filled you in one stroke. It felt like ages since he'd been inside you. He hated the way it felt like he'd been sharing the house with you, but you had been just out of his grasp. He hated how he felt like he wasn't a priority.

When you licked your lips, and met his eyes, Bradley started to thrust, slowly at first. A soft smile touched your slips, and then with one sharp movement of his hips, you were whining again. He pinned you down with one hand on your hip and teased up the front of your shirt with the other.

He took your soft breast in his hand, gently working his thumb along your taut nipple while he fucked you with hard, short thrusts. He watched your back slowly arch off the floor as he hit just the right spot, and you pressed your lips together stifling your sounds.

"Be as loud as you want, Sweetheart. I'm gonna make you cum on my cock."

"Fuck," you whined. "I'm so close," you cried, shaking your head against the mat. Bradley could feel your right leg shaking against him. The keening noises coming from you had him on the edge too.

He leaned over you, getting some pressure against your clit as he squeezed your breast. You spasmed around him, crying out and gasping for air. And he spilled himself inside you, jerking into you until he couldn't move.

Your hands and lips were all over his face, and as he let himself rest against your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around him. "I'll be better, okay? I promise you, Roo, I will do better."

"Okay, Baby Girl."

A few hours later, you were still wearing just his Top Gun shirt and sitting on his lap at the dining room table. You were sharing a plate of Marry Me Rooster while a confetti cake from a boxed mix baked in the oven.

"Please, Roo? Confetti cake for the wedding?" you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which weren't even as good as the ones he frequently gave you.

"It's too sweet, but I'll think about it," he replied. But you both knew you would get whatever you wanted.

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

Let's hope they can stay on the same page and plan a wedding that will make them both happy.

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw

644 notes · View notes