#*it felt like years but i suppose it was only an hour maybe idk i have adhd <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[its-short-for-jackalope]

Drawing request drawing request! If u’d like, can u do Holloduke/Holloweane? If not that, then maybe Chumby, the Hatchetfield Ape-Man with Willabella Muckwab. Put ‘em in a room together and see what happens haha!

Just run away with me, [I] won't feel so alone

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

noise complaints (pt 1? maybe)

A/N: I don’t even like do this but you sick sick fucks wouldn’t write the pure filth I loosely requested so here we are!

Summary: You and Rio go out to a party with your old classmates on a night when Agatha is stuck on patrol. The two of you are having fun when something interrupts the celebration…

Warnings: use of “Y/N”, general party stuff idk, voyeurism, being hit on by V*sion, part two would be rough sesbian lex and that is alluded to 🎉

Pairing: Dom!Older!Cop!Agatha x Younger!Sub!Reader x Younger!Brat!Rio

NSFW below MDNI 🔥🔥🔥

This had been the plan for weeks now, ever since you and Rio received a text invite from your mutual college friend inviting you to a small reunion “get-together”.

The description of the event was misleading, as the two of you knew from your college friendship with the girl named Alice, and it took quite a bit of persuasion from the two of you to convince your girlfriend, Agatha, to let you go to what was sure to be a rager.

Since you and Rio had met in high school and were in a sort of FWB relationship for a year in college before meeting Agatha (who turned out to be the missing piece you needed to form a real relationship) she had a tendency to get jealous- Especially when the two of you hung out with your other friends from the years before you knew the older woman.

What she didn’t know was that you two were obsessed with her from the moment you all met at your forensics mixer where she was giving a presentation on her work with the police force in the town you and Rio grew up in, and that you still worshipped her after all this time.

She eventually caved, giving you and Rio the go ahead to attend the party when she realized she would be stuck with patrol duty on that night anyway. So now, you and the younger of your girlfriends stood back-to-front in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, admiring one another.

Rio��s arms snake around your waist, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear as she whispers, “You look so.. so good, Y/N. I’m not sure Agatha will let us out the door with you looking like this.” She smirks as she slips that last part in and ducks down to kiss down the side of your neck to your shoulder, where she eventually rests her chin. A faint red paints your face as you meet her eyes in the mirror and admire her own outfit.

She wears your favorite black jeans that were perfectly tight around her hips and ass, but flowed out to a baggy straight cut towards the bottom and a loose, barely-buttoned, sheer black button-up shirt. It was a simple look, but one that drove you crazy when she wore it, especially now with her hair down, air-dried and wavy.

In front of her, you wore and equally simple and captivating tight black dress with Agatha’s black leather jacket and matching high-heeled boots. You look back to meet Rio in a short but passionate kiss, pulling away only when you felt your older girlfriend’s presence, watching from the door frame where she leant with her chin tilted and arms crossed across her chest.

“So I can’t leave the two of you alone for three minutes before you forget your rules with each other… How am I supposed to trust you two sluts without me at this party for hours?” Agatha speaks through her teeth before taking quick strides towards you two. She sits on the edge of the bed just a foot away from where you stand now, jaw dropped and still pressed against Rio.

“Go ahead, keep going. Let me know what kind of show you plan to put on for those classmates of yours.” It has to be a trap. If you don’t press yourself back against your girlfriend, you’d be disobeying her, but if you do, you’d be confirming her accusations in some sick way.

Instead, Rio speaks up. “We don’t want to put on a show for anyone but you, Agatha, swear. You’re the only one who can see us like this.”

You can see the wheels turning in Agatha’s mind as she stares at Rio for a second longer before standing back up. She grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss while her free hand finds Rio’s ass. The latter whines at the combination of the sight of her girlfriends kissing so close to her and the possessive grip Agatha assumes on her curves.

Agatha pulls away from you while dragging your bottom lip away with her teeth, just enough to draw the smallest drops of blood to taste through the night and remember her by. “You wanna speak up, doll?”

Rio’s eyes are clouded with lust as her pointer and middle fingers fiddle with her bottom lip as she shakes her head. A firm grip wraps around her wrist and pulls the fingers away, only to be quickly replaced with those of your older girlfriend. “Open.” The single-worded command barely gets a second to hang in the air before Rio invites the pair of digits into her mouth, yearning for the way Agatha always slightly tipped her head back and tightened her jaw as she took in the overwhelming act of submission from the (eight months) older of her two young girlfriends.

Once she’s decided it’s enough, she slides her fingers out and walks away from the two of you. Once she reaches the door frame, she speaks. “Alright. You two can still go. But if I find out that just one of those whores looks at you guys with any kind of intentions or ideas… You’ll wish you never asked to leave this room. Especially dressed like that.” Both you and Rio know better than to question how she would find out about something like that.

“Have a good shift, hon, text us if you need us to bring anything home.” Is all you manage to squeak out before she slips out of the doorway with a horrifying silence.

You and Rio finish getting ready in a shared silence, only speaking again when you get in the car and play your car-eoke playlist, and even then you’re just screaming to what’s essentially a Soulja Boy highlight reel.

Your previous confrontation with Agatha had been long forgotten once you and Rio grabbed a beer each and joined Alice in the family room, littered with an equal mix of creepy has-been men who peaked when you knew them in highschool and the girls whose company you’d actually enjoyed between the long nights you spent with Rio, both slumped over your textbooks since Rio always seemed to “displace” hers.

You were so caught up in a conversation about the shoddy collection of local bookshops with Alice that you hadn’t noticed Rio signaling you to look towards the pair of boys stumbling towards you two. You were deep in such a tipsy passionate rant about the only quality vintage bookstore in Westview that you didn’t even notice the boys until one of them grabbed your shoulder, the other mirroring his brother’s actions on your girlfriend, spinning you and Rio so that you were facing them.

Overcome with disgust, you brush the slightly taller of the two’s hand off of your shoulder, then shoving the other’s off of Rio’s and grabbing her wrist.

“Woah, calm down! You ladies are even feistier than I remember from senior year.” Now you remembered their names. Vision and a boy you only knew by his lame ass basketball nickname, Wonderman. The pair’s cockiness had always made you despise them, though it was clear they didn’t catch that vibe from the way they insisted on teasing and talking to you every science class that you had together. Obviously they hadn’t learned that, even now.

“Did your mom raise you with like, any manners at all? Don’t fucking touch her. Don’t touch ME.” Rio spat, turning to lead you away and into the kitchen by your grip on her wrist when Vision caught your other wrist.

“Yo, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Vision, and you can call my brother here W,” the one gripping your wrist says, followed by the other saying, “We couldn’t help but notice you ladies from across the room… And judging by your fits, you two were seeking some attention from some guys like us.” You seriously couldn’t believe anything they were saying was real, it seemed to be straight out of a Chat-GPT generated high school movie script.

Neither you nor Rio had a chance to respond before the room was flooded with red and blue lights from through the windows, disrupting the energy and silencing everyone- that was until Alice scrambled on top of her coffee table and yelled, “Noise complaint! Cops! Get the fuck out!”

You and Rio, along with everyone else, were quick to file out. Unfortunately for the two of you, the entire men’s basketball team seemed to be in attendance and pushed you further into the house during your attempted escape, meaning you were the last two out.

However, you seemed to finally be in the clear as you found footing on the beer-soiled grass… and so did the sweaty boys from before. They grasped your shoulders once more, saying they were “So glad we could find you ladies and make sure you’re safe” since you “Need a few strong men to help you out of such a scary situation.” Just then, a booming, staticky voice is emitted and echos all around the four of you.

“Boys, take your hands off of those ladies or so help me God, I will throw you in the back of this car and you won’t see anything but the brick walls of a county cell for weeks.” The voice called out, sending chills through all four of your spines. The boys because they weren’t nearly as brave as they liked to present themselves as, and you and Rio because you knew who was behind the speaker system. Agatha.

The boys split, and you and Rio are frozen as Agatha slowly approaches, hands in her pockets, her uniform clinging to her deliciously.

Once she’s close enough to feel the fear radiating off of her girlfriends, she speaks so lowly you can hear the rasp in her throat.

“So let me get this right, girls. I, against my better judgement, let you whores go to this party because you begged me so, so prettily for weeks, even after that little stunt I walked in on a few hours ago. I’m out patrolling for all of an hour when I go to investigate a noise complaint and see you allowing two sleezebags to touch what’s mine? Are you out of your fucking minds?”

You’re now trembling with fear at the intensity of her voice, horrified of what’s coming for you. Rio is buzzing with excitement at the vast amount of possibilities for the night ahead of you all. Agatha, well-tuned to each of your tells, reads this perfectly.

Should I do a part two or am I the only person that wants any of this LMK lol bye

[moonstruckme]

vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human. 

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.” 

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving. 

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.” 

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit. 

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now. 

“Can we do that?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.” 

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.” 

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?” 

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap. 

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.” 

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared. 

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.” 

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly. 

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you. 

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can. 

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral. 

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.” 

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.” 

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.” 

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.” 

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting. 

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.” 

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.” 

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.” 

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.” 

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.”��

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

puppy love (or something like it)

part 1

— And, nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

((eight)teen, barista!gojo x fem!reader)

(word count: 7k)

(tags/warnings: slightly toxic gojo, sort of fwb gojo, cursing, lightest of light smut, underage drinking (be responsible!!), reader is a bit insecure, time jumps, a hint of meaningless flirting. lmk if i missed any!)

no.. i didn't write 7k words in less than 24 hours...idk what this is but it's def something!!!!

AUGUST 2007 –

Satoru Gojo’s senior year of high school flew by in a blur; between sports (to only slightly brag, he brought his football team to regionals and won—he was only the best quarterback his school had seen in a decade or more), honors classes, a full social life, and demanding parents, it felt like he never had a moment for himself. Sure, he was well accomplished for an eighteen-year-old but he was still just that: eighteen years old.

He realized one day, with a startling abruptness around three in the morning before returning from winter break, that the last eighteen years of his life had been lived under the instruction of someone else. In fact, Satoru could hardly recall a single decision he made by and for himself—he wasn't sure that he had. Even his involvement with sports, for all the love he held for it, was pushed at him by his father from a young age. His extroverted, sociable personality was instilled in him by his mother because, as a member of the Gojo clan, he was held to a higher standard (and amount) for his interactions—he could not, would not, should not shy away from it.

Maybe Suguru and Shoko—his closest, more beloved friends. Maybe keeping them around was the only decision he made for himself; especially Suguru, considering his family was not fond of his more humble (not obscenely wealthy) upbringing. 

On that same night, Satoru realized he rather disliked his parents.

So, in the wake of all the enlightenment and wisdom that can befall an eighteen year old boy, he decided to spite them.

It was a brilliant scheme, one that would cause them displeasure and him satisfaction—Satoru decided to take a gap year between high school and college. He ignored their droning warnings and complaints of ‘If you don't go now, you never will,’ ‘We have worked too hard to let you give up and amount to nothing,’ and, his personal favorite: ‘This is all because of that Geto boy! I knew he was a bad influence!’

(As if he ever could “amount to nothing.” The Gojo name secured his future indefinitely, and they all knew it.)

After a month of argument and debate, an agreement was reached—Satoru would take a gap year under the condition he would find a job to keep him motivated and teach him ‘real world skills,’ or whatever his parents insisted minimum wage work would instill in him. His working theory was that they believed threatening him with real work would make him back down and start applying to schools, but that only made him more spiteful and determined to stick it out for a year. For once, he wanted to do something that he chose, not that was chosen for him.

By the time the end of high school came around, Gojo was close to nineteen and determined to prove his parents' warnings unfounded.

He didn't think it would be this difficult.

He thought brewing coffee was supposed to be easy—a couple scoops of this, a pump or two of that, pour and done.

But the rather chatty, too-upbeat-for-even-Satoru barista was droning on about different roasts, optimal temperatures, the proper angle for steaming a cappuccino (what the fuck was a cappuccino), different grinds of coffee beans—anything and everything under the sun. He never knew coffee was so involved. And the syrups—God, the fucking syrups. He was sure he had never seen so many flavors in one place and he sincerely doubted his ability to memorize them. A million flavors with trillion combinations and a seemingly infinite supply of picky customers requesting the most obscure concoctions of mocha and caramel and fucking mint?! 

Even Satoru knew it was a miracle he hadn't been fired.

But lucky for him, he had a pretty face and the shop was understaffed.

So, after four weeks of employment (and the owner realized he was simply untrainable in the art of coffee) Satoru became the designated cashier and eye candy during his shifts.

It suited him and gave him an opening for routine visits with Suguru during his shifts, so long as no customer went unattended or tables un-bussed.

“Suguruuu,” Satoru droned in that whiny, higher pitch that he knew drove his friend up the wall, “I’m boreddd.”

“Satoruuu,” he mocked, “you’ve only been here for an hour.”

“Yeah, and there's nothing to do.” He pouted. He didn't miss his friend’s (mostly) playful eye roll.

“I’m sure you have something to clean.”

“Nuh uh.”

“The table six feet in front of me thinks otherwise.” Satoru responded with a grumbled “shut up,” but made no move to bus the table. “Satoru, you have to start taking this more seriously. Your parents will be livid if they find out you got fired.”

“I don't care what they think.”

“You need their money—I know you didn't forget your deal that fast.” He could only huff at his friend, knowing that he was right. Satoru’s parents agreed to financially support him and his high maintenance life under the condition that he remain employed; they would cover his portion of rent, utilities, and any emergencies so long as he held down this job for one year. “If you're late on rent, I’m kicking you out.”

“No fair!”

“Fine, just a late fee. Then I’ll evict you.”

“Calm down. They're not firing me. I’m too handsome–it brings in too much business.” Satoru joked with a thumb pointing to the boyish smile adorning his face.

“Yes—that’s why the café is just bustling.” Suguru mocked. The café was entirely empty save for them and the barista that went on her break twenty minutes ago. Satoru decided to not be annoyed at her fifteen turning to a twenty—maybe twenty five. 

He had certainly done worse.

The pair fell into silence for a moment as Suguru began typing away at his laptop, and Satoru restlessly tapped his foot, fingers, and anything else within his reach.

“Satoru. Do you mind?”

“I'm still boredddd!” he cried.

“Well, you'll have to find something to occupy yourself today. I’m working on my class project with my partner today.”

“I don't see them.” Satoru playfully tried closing his laptop. “Looks like you’ll just have to hang out with me instead.”

“She's running a little late.” He swatted his hands away, “And you're in her seat.” 

“You're no fun.” He huffed, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Ow, how will I ever regain your high opinion, your majesty?” He dramatically grasped at his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair in mock pain. “Seriously, man, get up, she just walked in, and unlike you, we plan to get some work done today.”

Satoru grumbled, mocking his friend as he stood up from his chair and pushed it under the table. He complained all the way back to his spot behind the register, where he leaned against the counter with his head propped against his hand, looking utterly bored.

“Excuse me?”

Oh right, you probably wanted to order. Maybe he really did need to pay more attention to his job.

“Sorry about that! What can I…” In an instant, Satoru’s heart grew wings and fluttered violently around his ribcage. It felt nauseating.

Why had Suguru never talked about you before?

And fuck you looked at him like he grew six eyes before he realized he was staring like an utter fool. He tried to recover with a casual clearing of his throat and a fake cough into his elbow. “Sorry! Allergies—what can I get started for you?”

“Just a black coffee, thanks.”

“Of course!” He put on his prettiest smile and smoothest voice for you. “It’s on the house today.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Satoru turned around to pour the coffee, feeling comfortable in his hand eye coordination to handle pouring the cup of coffee despite his lack of comprehension of its intricacies. He tried to ignore how casual you were, seemingly unphased by a kind gesture from a handsome stranger. By the time he finished obsessing to turn back around and hand you the cup, you were already sitting at the table with Suguru, the warmest smile he had ever seen with his own eyes pulling at your cheeks and leaving a shimmer in the room.

There was an unusual feeling boiling in his stomach as he approached you with the mug. Why did Suguru get such a sweet smile and he hardly got an acknowledgment? 

That wasn't how it usually went.

“Here’s that coffee for you,” Satoru approached the table, not missing the suspicious look in Suguru’s eyes as he obviously took note of the effort he put in to bring your drink to the table. The few times Satoru has had to make a drink (only ever black coffee, tea, or ice water), he sits it on the pick up counter and calls out the order name, regardless of it being dine-in or to go. He also knew his friend picked up on his rush to bus the messy table, only because it put him in your direct line of sight, but you could not seem to care less.

He wanted your attention.

It was rather odd—Satoru typically had no issues holding a woman’s attention.

But he could wait. He was patient.

Three hours was about all he could manage.

To his benefit, that was the end of his shift, and he was forced to stand there while you sat in beautiful concentration and occasionally conversed with Suguru. He hoped you would come up for a refill, maybe a pastry; it did nothing for him, since you only left your seat once to use the restroom, asking Suguru where to find it rather than himself, which stirred that vicious feeling in his gut again.

He was clocking out, removing his apron, and about to leave when he heard what he had been waiting for from you for the last miserable three hours: “I'm going to head out, same time tomorrow?”

“You got it.” Suguru beamed at you, offering you a small wave after you packed your belongings away and pushed in your chair. 

You smiled again.

“Suguru!” Satoru exclaimed once you closed the door and crossed the street. His friend only groaned in response. “You didn't tell me she was hot!”

That elicited a small chuckle from him. “I didn't think it was important.”

“Why haven't you told me about her?”

“There's nothing to tell, Satoru. She's my research partner. I barely talk to her outside of class.”

“But you do talk to her!” His eyes lit up in excitement. “You have to set me up, dude.”

“Really?” Another laugh. Was he taunting him? “Why would I do that? We both know your history, Satoru, and I'm not having you run her off before we finish our project.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He whined.

Sure, maybe, Satoru had a history in high school of being a player but that was the old him and he told Suguru as much.

“You mean, like, two months ago?”

“That's still old! And it's been longer than two months! C’mon man, you gotta help me out here.”

“Why do you care so much? She didn't look very interested.”

“Exactly! You know hard to get is my type! And look at her!” He gestured wildly up and down with his hands.

“And you wonder why she wasn't fawning over you.”

“Suguruuu, pleaseee! I’ll clean the kitchen for a month.”

“You already owe me two months of that for the last two favors you asked me.” The bastard was having fun with this, it was obvious in his smug grin. But Satoru’s annoying whiny voice and pleading eyes did the trick, like they did every time. “Fine. I guess I can invite her over to the apartment for a study session—”

“YES!”

“Hang on. You have to promise me that you won’t make a move until our project is done. You're not going to fuck up my grade.”

“Deal.”

“And—”

“Ughhh, what else?”

“She’s pretty cool. Don't fuck her over.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Suguru was true to his word, for the most part. Rather than meeting at the café the next day, you were invited to their shared apartment at noon—the same time that Satoru’s five-hour shift started.

He could've killed him.

And during every grueling moment of his shift, where he was scheduled with Utahime, who refused to chat with him and instead opted to spend her five hour shift scrubbing down the baseboards with a rag and hot water. That only took two hours. Then she began moving fridges, the whole fucking espresso machine and every single other shelf, syrup rack and bottle on the counters to clean under. All to avoid having to speak with him.

To say Satoru was bored out of his mind was an understatement.

He remained as such until exactly five o’clock, when Shoko came to relieve him. She never showed up a minute early or late.

As he clocked out, there was a message waiting for him.

Suguru

4:27pm

yo, can you pick up a twelve pack on your way? 

Satoru

5:03pm

depends

Suguru

5:03pm

on?

Satoru 

5:04pm

how you plan on making up w me after your little private study sess >:(

Suguru

5:05pm

ugh you're so dramatic. she’s staying for dinner, dumbass. 

you're welcome

Satoru made it to the convenience store and back home in record time.

He walked through the front door, after checking his hair in his phone camera to make sure it was still perfectly mussed, with a grin on his face and a twelve pack in hand.

He was ready to extend a greeting to you when he realized his, perhaps fatal, mistake.

He never asked for your name.

Suguru must have realized the dire circumstances Satoru found himself in, because he quickly introduced you and gave no hint at the ridiculously foolish crush he seemed to be harboring for you after half of a conversation and a few lovesick glances.

You replied with a casual, “Hey,” and a close-lipped smile, and Satoru felt his knees weaken.

“We were just about to order dinner, you good with pizza?”

“Hell yeah.”

NOVEMBER 2007 –

Autumn came and went as all seasons before; suddenly. And so, in similar fashion, winter began creeping in as the calendar flipped to November, leaving more of a chill in the air with each passing day.

You were swept away in a wave of classes, homework, projects, and newfound friendships—most notably (and the least expected) being Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru. 

Suguru was perhaps the sweetest boy you had met in college. He was considerate of you, never toeing the line of being anything more than your friend; he worked hard with you on your project, and you majorly credited him and his tutoring to your current passing grade in Yaha’s biology class. You frequently met at the local café just off campus for coffee and the occasional blueberry scone where Satoru was almost always working. It was difficult for you to connect with others, your more impassive demeanor leading others to believe you were catty or rude. Suguru never seemed to think that of you, always being a comforting, warm contrast to you. You were grateful to have him as your friend. 

Him letting you braid his hair was merely an added bonus.

Shoko became another close, deeply loved friend to you. She was at Suguru and Satoru’s apartment almost as frequently as you (any chance to escape dorm life was welcomed), and while she was almost as slow opening up to strangers as you, she was never anything less than loving and kind. You joined her for her smoke breaks on the patio, you listened to her gossip about friends or work or class—anything and everything under the sun. When you sprained your ankle in the middle of September (an incident involving copious amounts of liquor and an electric scooter that she did not hesitate to gently mock you for), she wrapped your ankle every day for a week and a half and mothered you until she believed you were clear to resume your normal activities. You decided against telling her it would still hurt a little after climbing stairs or wearing sandals.

And Satoru… well, he was Satoru; always toeing over the line between friendly and flirtatious, always back and forth, hot and cold, clingy and distant depending on the day. You were more unfamiliar with him than Suguru and Shoko. Not to say you were not fond of him—he always knew how to make you laugh. His inattentive personality always guaranteed entertainment, a dull moment never being a thought with him, and he was certainly charismatic despite him seeming overall an enigma to you—an unusual mix of obvious transparency yet never beyond a surface level. While you knew he would like to believe otherwise, he was blatant in his initial affections for you. That only lasted through the middle of October, where he seemed to realize his advances went unnoticed. He put the pieces together when Shoko mentioned your boyfriend back home and dropped the notion altogether. 

That was one thing you could always credit him for—he knew when it was time to stop; whether it was a joke, a game, his excitable energy, or anything else for that matter. While his antics were an essential part of his personality, Satoru was still mature and empathetic in spite of his best effort to prove otherwise. The playful flirting was still present from both of you, but never more than just that—playful, but enough to maintain a gray area that left you confused more often than not.

Still, you cared for him, in spite of his flaws and the confusing nature of your friendship.

And his horrible latte-making skills.

You had to give him credit for trying, and there certainly was improvement from his first drink, but the espresso always tasted burned and the milk was a little cold and lacking any sort of aeration or foam. 

You just didn't have the heart to tell him.

Suguru, however, certainly did.

“Satoru, you've worked here for how long now? How did you manage to make a steamer taste burned?”

“Okay, Karen, I’ll remake it for you.”

“No, I will.” Shoko piped up from behind the counter. It was one of the rare shifts that the manager had no option but to schedule Shoko and Satoru together—an occurrence you found she tried desperately to avoid, knowing that you and Suguru would be in the café and distracting the two for the duration of the shift. But, with the majority of her other staff having taken off for the upcoming holidays or cramming for exams, she had little option.

“Thank you, Shoko.” You couldn't help but sympathize with your friend, despite his disdain for anything interpreted as pity. The stress of exams seemed to weigh heavily on him. “It’s a miracle you're still employed, man.”

“Hey! I already told you, I’m just the eye candy.”

Shoko scoffed from behind the counter, earning a grumpy look in her direction.

“As if.” You taunted, never tearing your gaze from your laptop.

“Soooo…” Satoru began, changing the topic of conversation away from mockery at his expense, “Are you guys going to Utahime’s party tomorrow?”

“Are you sure she even invited you? I thought she hated you.”

“Pssh, what're you talking about? She loves me!” He replied, which earned him an incredulous look from the three of you. “And anyway, I’m Suguru’s plus one.”

“You are?”

Before he could question further, Satoru turned his attention to you, “Are you going?”

“Oh, I really don't know… I have to study for my exams.”

“Oh, c’monnnn,” He whined, “You can take one night to have fun. You've been glued to that thing for days now.” To emphasize his point, Satoru closed your computer, leaving you thankful for the auto-save feature on your document.

You felt torn, wanting to enjoy an evening with your friends but also needing to prioritize your studies. You were dangerously underprepared and couldn’t risk less than perfection on your exam.

But what’s one night?

“Okay, fine. But only for a couple hours, then I’m coming home to study.”

Satoru threw his fist in the air as a sign of victory, finally leaving your personal space to return behind the counter where he was finishing his closing duties for the night. From what you've been told, he always seemed to work harder when you were around, though you couldn't understand why.

“It’ll be good for you to get out.” Suguru commented with a soft look in his eyes, “You’ve been pretty closed off since the break-up.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. It’s just weird, I guess. The distance and all made things hard, but…”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached out to gently rub your shoulder, knowing these conversations were far from your strong suit. “This’ll be good for you. I’ll make sure you have someone to talk to.”

“Thank you, Sugu.”

Shoko came around a moment later with a latte in one hand and a steamer in the other. She sat them on the table and threw a wink in your direction, seemingly noticing even behind the counter that your original drink sat untouched. You usually ordered a black coffee when Satoru was at the espresso bar (which you still received a few questionable cups of), but he was insistent on making your latte today, claiming to have been practicing just for you. He had been more distant than clingy lately, and could not help but cave to the sudden attention he was showing you.

That was something else about Satoru—you found yourself craving his approval after a short time of his friendship. It was a realization that you would never make apparent to him for fear of inflating his ego or exasperating his behavior, and one that frustrated you to no end. Never before had you craved attention in such a way, not even from your ex-boyfriend, who, in all honesty, was wholly inattentive and unaffectionate even before the distance.

You spared a moment from your laptop to watch him behind the counter as he cleaned underneath syrup racks and jugs of chocolate and realized you knew little to nothing about Satoru Gojo. 

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.” There was a look in Suguru’s eye that gave the missing context to his words.

You scoffed, “As if. You know that’s not quite my scene.”

“I’m just saying.” he replied, throwing his hands up in defense, “You could probably do with a little stress relief. You haven’t gone anywhere other than your dorm, my place, or here in weeks. Let loose a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” 

As promised, you arrived at the party already one drink in, and with a six pack of your favorite beer after asking Utahime what the drink selection would be like. She rattled off a list of various spirits that you knew would leave you hungover, miserable, and unable to resume your studies in the morning.

It was more crowded than you expected.

In fact, it was nearly shoulder to shoulder as you made your way through the house to find a spot in the fridge to sit your drinks. What should have been a thirty-second walk to the kitchen turned into a three-minute debacle. After being stopped by two drunken classmates who were shocked to see you while you were finding an empty couch to lay your coat and weaving through a dozen or so bodies, you finally made it to the fridge. Unsurprisingly, it was stuffed full of snacks, bottled water, sodas, and a dozen or so bottles of rum, whiskey, vodka and who-knows-what-else meaning you had to remove each individual bottle from the box to find an opening for them, leaving one out for you to start on.

With your head in the fridge and being entirely unaware of your surroundings, you were startled when you heard your name called, resulting in you slamming your head straight into the top of the fridge before you straightened and turned around. There was no concealing your embarrassment as you came face-to-face with the originator.

And you weren’t shocked to find him stifling a laugh.

“Thanks for that, Gojo.” You knew he hated it when you called him that.

“Wow, so it’s like that? And here I was, about to offer you a drink.” You raised the opened bottle in your hand to show your lack of necessity for one. “Bleh, I don’t know how you drink that shit.” “I could say the same for you. I think I saw you adding simple syrup to your drink when I came in.”

“It was only like three pu—wait, you did not!”

“Gotcha.” You flashed him a smile, and for a moment thought he looked mildly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “You’re too predictable, Gojo.”

“Nooooo, you know I hate it when you call me that.” He whined, playfully stamping his feet in a way that indicated he probably already had more than one drink. It was difficult to tell with him, considering the more wild side of his personality shone brightest in crowds. He was an extrovert through and through.

“Don’t give me a reason to call you that.”

“You’re so mean.” He pouted, a sultry undertone lacing his voice.

“You love it, though.” You teased, looking up at him underneath your lashes.

It felt unusual, the banter between you. What felt more unusual was the one-on-one interaction. For a moment, you couldn't place why until you realized you hadn’t had a single interaction with Satoru where Shoko or Suguru wasn’t around as a buffer in more than a month. In fact, he had been mostly absent since you broke things off with your boyfriend.

Was he avoiding you?

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot.” His cheeks were flushed but he did not backtrack.

“Shut up,” you blushed, rolling your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Where’s Suguru?”

“That eager to get rid of me?”

“Yes—where is he?”

“No clue, but I think Shoko’s around somewhere.”

“Thanks, pretty boy.” He grew even more red, if possible.

Maneuvering around the bodies in the dining room with two drinks in your hand (one for you and one for Shoko)  and leaving behind a mildly flustered Satoru, you found her exactly where you expected—outside by the bonfire with a cigarette in her lips and a blissed look in her eyes that told you she’d had more than just alcohol. You called out to her, and she smiled at you, waving her hand over to invite you to sit beside her. You tried not to laugh as her cigarette fell from her lips to the ground.

“Hey, girl!” She called out to you. “So glad you made it out!”

You gave a polite nod and smile, settling in beside her as the conversation resumed around you but mostly without you. You didn’t mind much; you were content with not having to navigate the interaction with people you didn’t know. You made a few comments here and there, mostly responding to polite questions and statements towards you.

“What’s your name? “What’re you studying?”

“I haven’t seen you around before.” “Oh! You’re friends with Geto and Gojo, right?”

“You’re in Yaga’s class, right? He’s such a hardass!”

It was enjoyable for a few moments, but after twenty or so minutes, the conversation seemed to leave you behind for the most part. 

When your drink was empty and you were comfortably buzzed, you took that as your sign to be leaving. Shoko tried to give pushback but resigned to expressing gratitude that you came out to begin with.

“If you see Suguru, tell him I’m sorry I missed him.” You slurred. “You got it!”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to brave the treacherous navigation of the house when you could have circled around to the front yard—something like one more beer and a couple of crackers calling your name before leaving, or whatever other excuse your tipsy mind convinced you of. Regardless, you found yourself back at the fridge with another drink in your hand that was disappearing in an alarming amount of time.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

How did he keep finding you?

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he whined, “What did I do to deserve that one?”

“My head still hurts.” “Hey! I didn’t make you hit your head.” 

“Then I’m preparing for the next time you're bad.”

“C’mon, you know I stay on my best behavior for you.” And there were those damn puppy dog eyes, only there for a moment as you could feel him switch to watching you in mild concern as you tipped your head back to take another long swig. “Ya know, when we said you needed to let loose a bit, we did only mean a bit.”

“I’ve only had a bit.” He made a sound to indicate he didn’t believe you as he leaned against the fridge door. “And besides, I’m leaving now.”

“You didn’t drive, did you?”

“No, I just walked. It’s not far.”

“Wait,” Looking embarrassed at his eagerness, “I can take you home. You live on campus, right?”

“Are you sure? You looked like you were having a pretty good time. And wait—haven’t you been drinking?”

“I barely touched the one I had. Too strong. Scouts honor.” He lazily raised three fingers and folded his thumb over his pinky. “I was going to DD for Suguru, but he found someone to leave with. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Wow, so you really do just act like this all the time.”

“Mean.”

“You know you love it.” And there was that flush in his cheeks again.

The ride to your dorm was relatively quiet. Upbeat pop music played softly in the background as Satoru kept both of his eyes glued to the road, being on high alert for the possibility of drunk drivers on a Friday night. It felt comfortable, you thought. Your moments with Satoru were few and far between these days—you would be willing to wager that tonight was the most one-on-one time you had spent with him in more than a month. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure about it. Were you that miserable that Satoru Gojo, the extrovert to end all extroverts, could only handle your company with a buffer? It certainly could not have been the case, considering his apparent willingness to drive you home. Then again, he knew how close you were with Suguru, and despite his arrogance, Satoru was a good person. He wouldn’t let you walk home alone when it was so late, Suguru would be livid.

Right?

Too lost in thought to notice he was already parked in front of your building, Satoru softly spoke your name. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired. Thanks for the lift.” You began to reach for your keys in your coat pocket when you realized that you were not wearing your coat. Unable to hide your frustration at your blatant forgetfulness, you groaned loudly and threw your head back.

“What’s wrong?” “I left my keys in my coat pocket at Utahime’s, and my roommate isn’t home.”

“I can just take you to mine and Suguru’s place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll fit you.”

It was only another eight minutes to the apartment, but it felt like the longest drive of your life, unable to stifle the anxiety building in your gut. In the most casual tone you could muster, you offered him an out. “You can drop me back at the party or something if you need; I don’t want to intrude.” Satoru looked at you with pure astonishment. “You could never.” He said it with such sincerity, a rather rare sentiment from him.

Upon your arrival at his apartment, Satoru kicked off his shoes and wandered to the fridge, and you made yourself comfortable on the couch. He returned to you in the living room with a beer in one hand and a can of grape soda in the other. He handed you the beer with a silent question posed as a raised eyebrow, asking if you wanted another. You accepted with a polite nod.

He joined you on the couch, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat and throwing an arm around the back. You could smell his cologne, slightly musky with a hint of vanilla and something signature to Satoru and only Satoru. He leaned his head back and inhaled deeply. You couldn’t keep yourself from staring at his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down, looking altogether tempting from your position. It was comfortably silent as the two of you sat on the couch together, breathing in the comfort of each other’s scent. You entirely forgot about your previous anxieties, recalling the familiarity of his presence and enjoying the remnants of your buzz.

“I’m glad you came out tonight.” His head never raised, and you stared at his throat as he spoke—his milky skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much time he spent in the sun, the wisps of hair that flipped in all directions by his ears and the nape of his neck, the barely visible shaved sides of his neatly trimmed undercut, the sharpness of his collarbones that peeked out from his t-shirt. 

He looked… tempting.

In that moment, you understood why he was so desired. Half of the girls in your college sought after him, despite him not being a student.

Suguru’s comment from the day before rang in your ears.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.”

You realized too late that you forgot to respond. “I can feel you staring, ya know?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” “I don’t need to. You’re doing it for me.” He finally rested his gaze on you but still never moved his head, only cutting a lazy sideways glance in your direction. Even in the dim lamplight of the living room, his eyes were all consuming. You didn’t think you had ever seen them so up close. You thought for a moment that he held an ocean in his eyes—it was the only explanation for their unnatural, almost more than human hue. Maybe he was just Satoru Gojo, and his name alone was enough to blur the lines between possible and impossible.

It was infuriating.

(Or maybe you had more to drink than you thought.)

“What else am I doing for you?” You purred. Everything in your mind screamed this was a bad idea, that you were about to leap over the line of playful and purposeful, but you couldn’t stop yourself—not when he snuck half-second glances at your lips, and his own looked so soft as they parted slightly with a small line of spit keeping them connected.

“I could show you better than tell you.” His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his teeth bit down on the lower slightly. Despite your focus on the sight, you didn’t miss the way his hips slightly shifted and his legs spread out a little wider.

It was intentional.

“C’mon then, Gojo. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He inched closer, a large hand coming to cup your check as he shifted his arm from the couch cushion to wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. “You know what to call me.”

“I think you can show me better than tell me.” 

The tension snapped. Self control was a distant thought of a forgotten memory as Satoru utterly devoured you. The two of you were a mess of teeth and tongues and wandering hands as he trailed from your check to gently rest on your throat. He brought his thumb around and offered a hesitant squeeze to your throat to gauge your reaction. You assumed he found what he was looking for in the low moan you released because he applied the perfect amount of pressure—enough to make your mind fuzzy but not so much to cause discomfort, and you let out a choked moan that made him smile evilly against your lips.

“I always knew you’d be into this.” He pulled slightly away from you, lightly increasing the pressure applied against your throat to hold you in place as you tried chasing his lips. “Ah, ah.” He pulled farther away, making a point to raise his head high enough that he cut his eyes to look down on you. “What are you supposed to call me?”

“Satoru.” You purred.

“Good girl.” He cooed, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He pulled you into his lap, and you knew he was blissfully unaware that you had him right where you wanted him. You hovered just above the growing hardness in his pants, ignoring his pawing hands guiding you down.

“Don't be a brat.” He emphasized it with a slap to your ass. You could feel the skin turning red.

It made you feel spiteful.

Adding to your spite was Suguru, who was fumbling with his key just outside of the front door. He must have dropped them three times and spent another few seconds searching for the right one to unlock the door; it was fortunate for you, considering the compromising position you found yourself in at the moment. Satoru immediately threw you off of him and shot up to run to his bedroom, the tent in his jeans so painfully obvious that even Suguru in his piss drunk state would have caught on.

Whether or not he would catch your flushed cheeks and overall airlessness was yet to be determined.

“Satoruu!” He called through the apartment, “How many times do I have to tell you to lock the door behind you?”

“Sorry, was a bit distracted,” he replied, far too casually for you to feel content with what just happened. You were still out of breath. “Someone left their keys at Utahime’s, she’s gonna crash here tonight. Anyway, I thought I saw you leaving?

“Yeah, to grab food.” Suguru hiccuped, “What do you think I am, a whore?”

“Well, yeah.”

He only responded to that with an eye roll, “I’m throwing up and going to bed. Have a good night.” He said your name, still unaware of your flustered state, “You know where the extra blankets are, I’ve got clothes in the dryer if you need ‘em.”

“Thanks, Sugu.”

JULY 2008 —

Your freshman year felt like it was over before it ever truly began. You stayed swept up in schoolwork and classes following winter break, practically suffocating in it.

Suguru and Shoko stayed a life saving constant for you. They never faulted you when you had to cancel plans, and Suguru even offered to do your homework if it meant it would take a weight off your shoulders. Of course, you declined, but the offer nearly brought you to tears. Being himself, he brushed it off as nothing and made you well aware it was an open, no strings attached offer. Shoko was there for several near catastrophic breakdowns, being a comforting presence and refusing to let you bum a cigarette from her, instead offering you a beer or your favorite scone from the cagé—you were thankful she didn't allow you to compromise your health like that.

And Satoru… well, he was still Satoru but in a different light.

You never talked about what happened.

You never talked about the other times it almost happened, either.

You never mentioned that it was why you stopped drowning in schoolwork at his and Suguru’s apartment and stayed in your dorm more often than not.

You never asked him if it meant anything, knowing the answer already. You knew he ebbed and flowed in his own ununderstandable ways, and you knew you couldn't subject yourself to his fickle personality as anything more than a friend. You also knew better than to question him, holding out for the moments that he was more on than off.

But still, things changed.

More often than not, he trailed after you like a puppy, always seeking your approval or praise and switching back to giving you free coffees when he was on shift. You knew it meant nothing, since he started doing the same for Shoko and Suguru. The end of his mandatory employment was rapidly approaching, and he couldn't be bothered to care about the repercussions—they were nothing to him; who would fire the great Satoru Gojo and risk the wrath of his obscenely affluent family? There were times he would bring your favorite latte to you, regardless of if you were in your dorm or at his apartment. There were times he brought a blueberry scone too—if the café was out, he brought you peach instead.

The flirting never stopped. It also never increased but it was charged, with the feeling of his hands around your throat, and the taste of his lips and tongue. If you focused on the moment hard enough, you could still remember the rasp in his voice when he called you “good girl.”

It was painful.

It was nothing in comparison to the line of women he consistently brought to the apartment, regardless of your presence.

It made you sick—not from unrequited affection (or so you told yourself) but from the implication that you were only a failed conquest; the confirmation that Satoru would only do as Satoru pleased, and you were a placeholder between his hookups or failed talking stages.

Still, he was your friend. Still, you cared. Still, you were lost without him.

And still, he was dreadful at lattes.

And nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

You realized it was rather pathetic when you picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, 'Toru.” 

“Are you busy?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What are you about to ask for?”

“You. Suguru’s out for the night.”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

For all nineteen years of wisdom that Satoru possessed, you wondered if he could see what he was doing to you. 

(accidentally made this SAD., my apologies!! i will not be changing,. anyway, updating to add sneak peak of pt 2 :3)

[joelsgoldrush]

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me &lt;///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by. 

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night. 

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had  heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on? 

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities. 

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.” 

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?” 

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing. 

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about. 

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you. 

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?” 

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around? 

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame. 

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames. 

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. 

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp. 

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you. 

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room. 

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.” 

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick. 

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.  

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. 

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse. 

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

[bluesidez]

HEY POOKS. Could you write a DBF!Miguel x dancer!reader. He just loves to watch her dance in competitions and recitals and helps her practice her routine by counting out 8’s for her <333

( maybe he can give reader a reward for doing so well but idk 🤭 )

[Rehearsal]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant (Hi @snails-doodles22) 🩻

summary: Miguel keeps you grounded as you prepare for a dance competition. 

content warning: age gap (abeg she’s 21+), secret relationship, fluff, like two suggestive?? lowkey explicit scenes so MINORS BEWARE, a few thoughts of frustration/failure but nothing serious just the thoughts of an artist

word count: 1.9k, halfway proofread

a/n: Hi hi!! This one was really a challenge for me!! and Idk if I’ll write DBF again ngl Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! I leaned more on the age gap aspect of the relationship and pulled from how I felt when practicing for my own recitals/competitions 🤠! (I get extremely snappy and mean lol)

A Grand Adage (as best as I, not a professional ballerina but I practiced for 3 years, can explain) is a slower dance move where you stretch your leg to the front, side, and back without losing your balance. You also have to switch legs…I think. It looks like it takes a LOT of core strength, especially without a partner.

I don’t think I mention it in the story, but I’m imagining this Miguel to have salt and pepper hair, but like, in its early stages. So only a few strands of gray. 

“Damn it.”

The music started to sound more and more jaded as you failed another Grand Adage after powering through the more fast-paced part of your routine. 

You don’t know why you had the bright idea to add the most pain-inducing ballet moves to your contemporary piece, but you were starting to hate yourself for it. It was supposed to represent a crash and burn of rushing perfection which was ironic because you were feeling those emotions tenfold.

“You’re not going to get it if you keep trying to force it like that.” You heard Miguel from across the room and the music finally stopped. “It’s a pause between those last two counts. You know this, chiquita.”

You huffed out a chuckle as you got up, “Knowing and doing are two different things. I know what’s coming, which is why I keep anticipating it and messing it up.”

“The studio is all yours for a few more hours,” Miguel sighed. “Take a breath and try it again.”

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re not the one busting your ass,” you mumbled as you got back into your starting position. 

Miguel crossed his arms, head leaning on the wall above the barre, “You want to say that again?”

You dropped your arms and stared at him, face blank. 

After a minute or so of you going silent, he unfolded his arms and beckoned you towards him. 

You dragged your feet to get to him, hands hugging yourself. 

“I know you want this to be perfect, but snapping at me isn’t going to help that.” His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, rubbing up and down the tightened muscles. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” you rubbed your eyes with your palms. “The competition is so soon and I keep fucking the routine up.”

“And you’ve also done it perfectly countless other times. You’ve got this! I know you do. I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into dancing and that’s not going to change.”

“But Miguel-”

“But nothing. I’ve seen how you become a new person on the stage. You demand the attention of your audience in a way that your peers can’t. You’re captivating and alluring so I’m not going to sit here and let you think otherwise.”

You look at him with a face that says “I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” and just fall onto his lap, wallowing in his arms while you breathe in his cologne. 

He nuzzled you on the head, hands patting at your ass, hands warm and firm through your tights, “Now can you try again for me?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you say, lips rivaling a rubber duckie. 

He chuckles at you but obliges, heart too soft when it comes to you. 

You get up with new ambition, taking a deep breath as you stride back to the middle of the room. 

“I’m going to count out loud for you this time, is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you reply, arms molding into a sharp form. 

When the music starts this time, you hone in on Miguel’s voice, taking leaps and turns with his timbre. Your heart thumps all the same, but your brain isn’t as loud. 

As the Grand Adage comes again, Miguel’s voice stays calm, never wavering. You tighten your core and lift your leg high, hands framed beautifully and foot pointed sharp as you hold your arms above your head. As you bring your leg back down to begin to turn, your heart almost stops when your body remains stable and strong. You can’t believe it but try to keep the piece's emotion steady. 

You switch legs without trouble, eyes catching Miguel watching your form in the mirror. His face is serious but you can’t hear that in his voice, making you feel fuzzy. You keep up the pace, repeating the same move but gearing up to do an Illusion.

Like a flash, you bring your leg down and bend your body, foot spinning swiftly to perform the trick. Your heartbeat is roaring in your ears as you move through the rest of the routine, mind too excited from your success to completely portray the ending emotions of dance. 

Once you finish, you’re quick to get out of your position, face lit up as you turn to Miguel. When you run to him, you’re screaming with glee. He only stumbles a bit when you jump in his arms, body wrapped around him like a koala. 

“Miguel! Did’ya see it? Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“I told you you could do it, amor. You just needed to get out of your head.”

“Ok ok, three more times and I think I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Well let’s get busy, chiquita. We’ve got work to do.”

You run through the routine again and again, becoming more confident each time. After every successful routine, Miguel’s praises get more and more loving. First a deep hug, then a few pecks to the lips, then a makeout session that has you squirming for more. 

“Is your dad picking you up today?” he said, lips on your neck.

You turn your nose up at the mention of him, “No, I took the bus.”

“Could have asked me to drop you off.”

“You were at work, Miggy. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother,” he stopped to move his forehead to yours. “You can come over tonight. You need to relax after all of this hard work.”

“And what do I tell my dad when he asks where I am?” your eyes pan from his eyes to his lips, fingers reaching up to go through his hair. 

“Tell him you’re at a girlfriend’s house.”

You twist your mouth to the side, pretending to think.

“How are you planning to relax me?”

“A hot bath.”

You snickered, knowing better than to believe that was all he was planning to do, but taking his word for it. 

Hours later when you were laid on your back, hands gripping the sheets below you and Miguel holding your legs up as he stroked deep inside, your suspicions were confirmed. Your skin was soft from the bath and your muscles were like jelly after he spent an hour massaging every tight muscle out of you. The room was full of him, his smell surrounding you, and the noises of him attending to your every need. With every cry of his name, he brought you closer to the horizon. 

On the day of your competition, you didn’t even look at Miguel before you went on, nerves too bad. If he gave you a pep talk, internally, you would be appreciative, but externally, you might tell him to leave you the fuck alone. 

Knowing how you get, he supported you in the best way he could by sending you messages and a light breakfast in the morning. 

“Break a leg, chiquita”

“Not literally of course”

“I’ll be waiting for you once it’s over”

“With a surprise :)”

It was enough to fill you with anticipation, ready to give it all on the floor.

Once your number was called, you went to the center and got into position. The crowd was dark enough to feel like it was just you in the room, but your heart knew otherwise with how fast it was beating. 

When the music starts, it’s like Miguel’s voice is a soundtrack playing through your memory. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in the crowd cheering you on. Your feet move across the floor, body tightening and relaxing when needed. Your face wears a frustrated expression, portraying the sentiment of everything falling out of control. Your leaps and turns come one after another moving your form across the stage. 

The Grand Adage comes to you like lightning, you don’t even notice you’re doing it until it happens. The muscle memory takes over and you transition to the Illusion like it's nothing. Your mind wanders as you go through to the end of the routine, finishing strongly with your pose on the floor.

The cheers of the audience are what bring you back to reality. A feeling of relief washes over you as you stand and bow, smiling brightly. 

Standing with the other dancers from your category, you don’t expect the judges to call your name for first place, so when they all turn to look at you, you feel like you might have walked out in your underwear by accident. 

It isn’t until you’re handed a bouquet of flowers and a trophy that it dawns on you that your hard work has paid off. The check was no measly amount of money either. 

Looking out to the crowd, you can see Miguel standing up with his hands cupped over his mouth as he yells. Your family is standing next to him cheering as well. You wave at them, jumping up and down in excitement. Only you can see the wink Miguel gives you. 

When you meet them out in the lobby, you have to stop yourself from keeping your attention on Miguel. 

“You did amazing, honey,” your dad says, squeezing the life out of you. “That flip thing? I don’t know how you did it, but wow!”

“It’s called an Illusion,” Miguel shakes his head. “Keep up.”

“What are you, her coach or something?”

“C��mon you guys,” your mom fusses. “Don’t start bickering in the building. At least wait until we get dinner.”

“‘M gonna ride with Miguel,” you say to them. 

Knowing how much you like his car, your parents think nothing of it and walk out to their own car. 

Once they’re out the door, he turns and gives you a deep kiss, “You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”

“I just remembered what you said. Kept it in the back of my mind while I performed.”

He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist, “Yeah?”

You nod and bring his lips to yours again. 

“Where’s my surprise?”

“Always so impatient.”

“You wouldn’t like me any other way.”

“Tienes rázon,” Miguel chuckled. 

Miguel brings a sparkly gift bag to your attention, placing it in your hands. You reach into the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. You pull out an envelope and a long velvet box. 

You open the box, eyes glittering when you see the necklace inside. 

“Miguel, this is adorable!” 

“Here,” he takes the necklace out of the box. “Let me help you put it on.”

You turn and focus your attention on the envelope, fingers sliding under the sealed flap. 

Your breath halts when you pull the tickets out.

“To Paris?”

You turn to him once your necklace is latched together, eyes teary from happiness.

“You’ve been doing so amazing, I wanted to treat you to an amazing trip.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Nothing that you should worry your head about.”

You crowd his space, kissing his face all over, “Thank you so much, Miguel.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

“I don’t want to go out to dinner now,” you sigh dramatically.

“Yeah? You know we can’t bail, though.”

“Not even if I give my thanks to you in the car?”

Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, watching you grin at him. He’s really way too soft when it comes to you. 

“Vamos.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two

Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess

My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness. 

But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.

It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off. 

Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away. 

It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do. 

“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him. 

He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation. 

My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father. 

“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea. 

That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.

His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. 

For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me. 

That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.

Gotham City: Present Day 

I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’ 

“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta. 

“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.” 

“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.” 

I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.” 

“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.” 

That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink. 

[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.] 

One week later. 

 “How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him. 

I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking. 

He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me. 

I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know. 

As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”

I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”

Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly. 

I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.” 

Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him. 

We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”

Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”

I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”

Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.” 

After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”

Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”

An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”

As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing. 

Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.” 

The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.

[uhohwhathaveidone]

The Little Things (S.S)

When did it become 4am? Idk. Ghost files was playing in the background so I blame Shane and Ryan for distracting me. 

No warnings for this, it’s all fluff. Maybe angst if you look super closely but jokes on you, I tricked you. Maybe a part two because I definitely didn’t finish it but it’s on a pretty good cliffhanger. I listened to Artic Monkeys for the three hours it took me to give you a 2.9k fic, dedication. Snap Out of It is playing rn, life is good. Anyway Hufflepuff gn reader again becasue i said so (im sorry that was mean) Good night

       Ominis sat on the couch in the common room of the Slytherin house, listening carefully to his friend Sebastian. Due to his own disability, Ominis had no idea what most people looked like, and he never really cared to ask. But he was becoming close friends with the new 5th year student, a Hufflepuff who somehow became integrated into the group. He found their voice calming and would laugh if they said something funny or a quip at Sebastian over something. He didn’t want to ask his new friend about their looks, he thought it would be weird, so instead he asked Sebastian. Sebastian had joked about it at first, saying that you had a face full of ugly scars and moles all over your face, but after he saw Ominis quirk an eyebrow and sigh in annoyance, he settled down and gathered his thoughts.

      He had the clearest image of you in his head, as if you were standing in front of him. He took a breath, “Well, you already know that they’re nice, of course. Their face matches their personality, I think. Their eyes are like jewels of the brightest colour, and their eyebrows really match their face? I don’t know how to explain it.” He went on, describing you to Ominis in as much detail as possible, not leaving out a single characteristic, down to how long your eyelashes were and how tall you were.

      “What else?” Ominis asked, smirking to himself as he listened to Sebastian blabber on. “What? You want to know more?” He asked, earning a nod from Ominis. Sebastian thought to earlier, when he glanced over at you during Herbology. Professor Garlick had been talking about a rather confusing subject, Sebastian wasn’t even quite sure what it was about, but he knew it had something to do with magical plants. In his own confusion, he had looked over at you to see if you were understanding any better, only to be met with your squinting eyes as you tried to make sense of the words. You had done this a lot whenever you were confused, and Sebastian secretly found it adorable, though he would never tell anyone. Sometimes, if you were really confused, he would watch your nose scrunch up as well and a small frown dawn on your lips. When the class had ended, you had trotted up to him and elbowed him in the side, sighing. “Ow! What was that for?” Sebastian had asked, pushing you to the side and away from him. You shrugged in response, letting out a dramatic sigh. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, knowing that you just wanted him to ask you what was wrong. “Ok, fine. What’s wrong?” He eventually asked, pulling onto your robe to make sure you didn’t get separated from each other. He watched as you tried to hide a smile, replying. “I didn’t understand a word she said. I felt rather dumb.” Sebastian nodded his head and brought a hand up to pat you on the head. “I could tell, you’re not very good at keeping a straight face. But I didn’t understand anything either, so I suppose that makes up two idiots together, yeah?” You snorted in response, shaking his hand off your head. “I’m still smarter than you, so don’t get any ideas.” Sebastian quipped a quick “yeah right” and walked along side you, thinking about how soft your hair had felt for a moment. He never understood that, how you managed to always have soft hair.

      Ominis only continued to smile as Sebastian talked about the faces you made and what had happened that day. “Do they make those faces when they fall asleep during our study time?” He asked. Sebastian hummed in response as he remembered how you fell asleep at the table the three of you were occupying in the library, your face pressed against a book as soft, slightly muffled snores left you. “Yeah, their nose twitches a bit.” You had been studying charms for a test the next day, and you had brought the book up close to read the small writing that was in the corner. You scrunched your nose up then, too. Sebastian had been too busy explaining a concept for a charm to see you lay the book down on the table once again and try to stifle a yawn. When he asked you a question and waited for your reply, he heard a soft noise. Looking over, you had laid your head down and used the book as a pillow, a hand brought up to your face to rest against your cheek. He watched for a moment, taking in the details of your sleeping form. He recounted the details to Ominis now, mentioning how your eyes had shifted a bit under your eyelids, and how you twitched randomly and caused hair to fall into your face.

      Ominis didn’t even have to speak anymore, Sebastian just kept talking.

      The next day, during breakfast, you seemingly appeared from nowhere next to Sebastian at the table, pushing your shoulder against his own to grab something to eat. It startled the boy half to death, and he was left stuttering out a string of not-so-strong words. “Listen, I know that Hufflepuffs are supposed to be loyal, but you have to warn someone before you just appear, yeah?” He breathed, smoothing down his robes. You only shook your head in response, a piece of toast quite literally hanging from your mouth as you tried to reach for some jam, which was just too far away for your fingers to reach. Sebastian smiled as he grabbed the jam you had been reaching for, showing it to you. “This what you’re after?” He asked, and you nodded in response. His smile widened as he looked you in the eye, and placed the jam father away. The toast dropped from your mouth as you gasped, eyes beginning to squint in annoyance. “Ominis, they’re squinting at me, I might just die.” Sebastian joked, flailing dramatically. You huffed as you got up to fetch it yourself, mumbling. “Typical Slytherin. Oh, you want this? Go get it ha ha.” Ominis heard this and choked on his juice. “What was that?” Sebastian asked, who didn’t quite catch what you had said due to his own laughter. You sat back down and began spreading the jam on your toast. “You’re acting like a dog. A puppy even. Childish, like a Slytherin.” You quipped, pointing the dull knife at him. You continued, “All bark but no bite. Like a Golden Retriever.” Sebastian pretended to be offended as he took a bite of his food, leaning over to Ominis. “If we’re talking about dogs, someone is a Pomeranian.” He said, pretending to whisper to Ominis. You heard this, and wacked him upside his head. “Am not.” You retorted, taking a bite of toast finally. Ominis, thanks to Sebastian describing you, maybe too much, was able to imagine the face you were making as you argued lightly about how you most certainly were not a Pomeranian, but never state what kind of dog you thought you were. “I think you’re just Sebastian’s emotional support dog,” Ominis stated, using his shoulder to push Sebastian away. You titled your head slightly, a confused hum voicing your thoughts. “Well,” Ominis continued, “Everyone just calls you his emotional support Hufflepuff, but it’s pretty much the same thing.” “Hey!”

       That night, Sebastian came back to the common room later than usual, but mumbling excitedly to himself as he beelined to Ominis. “You will not believe what I just witnessed.” He started, dropping into a chair next to his friend. Ominis turned to his direction, wondering just what Sebastian could have witnessed. “Y/n. I was looking for them because I grabbed their potions book on accident, which, not my fault.” Sebastian started. Ominis shook his head and smiled, motioning for Sebastian to continue. “Anyway, I found them by their common room, but they didn’t go in for some reason. They were just standing there, swaying kind of?” Ominis began to imagine you in a trance state, just swaying for no reason. Sudden worry fell onto his face. “Were they cursed?” He asked, earning a laugh from Sebastian. “I thought so at first, so I went over to see if everything was ok.” He paused, trying not to laugh as he thought back to what you were doing. He had walked up to you slowly, as if you would turn around and attack him if he went too fast. As he got closer, he could hear you mumbling lightly to yourself, but he couldn’t make out what you were saying. Surely you hadn’t gone crazy, swaying, and mumbling to a wall? He crept closer, wand ready just in case. As he found himself behind you, he peered over your shoulder. “They were swaying, to the moving cactus!” He laughed, clutching his sides. You were, in fact, dancing with the little cactus, entranced by its movement. Sebastian had let out a laugh when he realized what was going on, and caused you to jump backwards, right into him. He had caught you, still laughing as you looked up at him and scowled. “What are you laughing for?” You asked as you pushed yourself off of him and fixing your robes. Sebastian, nearly out of breath from laughing so hard, held his hand up to signal that he needed a moment. You crossed your arms and stared at him, a pouty frown forming on your lips. Sebastian saw this and had to take even more breaths. He mentioned this to Ominis, how you pouted at him. Ominis huffed in amusement, imagining what that must have looked like. Once Sebastian was able to catch his breath, he walked over to the cactus and pointed at it. “Dancing with a cactus?” You puffed your cheeks, not responding. He continued, “I don’t think it’s a good dance partner, it’s got the moves, but a bit prickly, don’t you think?” You kept your arms crossed, “Like you’re a better dance partner.” Sebastian scoffed at the thought of a cactus being better than him, but he still felt his cheeks heat up a bit. “Of course, I am.” He stopped at that, telling Ominis that he had clearly won that argument. Ominis shook his head as he got up, “Sebastian, you’re quite daft.” “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

         Ominis found it amusing to hear Sebastian talk about things, he always spoke in detail to give him a better picture, which also meant that he unintentionally spared hardly any details. Ominis had learned a long time ago how to identify what Sebastian was into by the way he described certain things. A bird would get the simple description, while something like the colour or texture of a potion he was making in class would be explained in depth. He noticed this while Sebastian talked about you. Although he knew Sebastian went into detail about what you looked like so he could get the best image possible, Sebastian would give unnecessary details, like if you had a leaf in your hair one day or how your eyes had a twinkle. Sebastian had paid such close attention to everything that you did, it was hard to think that he only saw you as a friend. Yet, Ominis could just feel the oblivious look on Sebastian’s face if it was ever brought up.

       It was some time the following week when Sebastian came across a moment of frustration. You had been a topic of conversation amongst fellow students. You always were. Yet, when some of the boys from his house came up to him and Ominis asking about you, Sebastian became defensive. He didn’t describe you to the boys like he described you to Ominis. This caused Ominis to smirk to himself as he listened in, noting the ting of jealousy in Sebastian’s voice. Once the group had left the two of them, Ominis dug his elbow into Sebastian’s side. “Ow! What are you on about, doing that?” Sebastian asked, holding his side. Ominis continued to try and poke Sebastian, mumbling. “You really like them; the big bad golden retriever Slytherin has a soft spot for the Hufflepuff.” He joked, of course, and he was unable to see the face Sebastian was making. But he knew just how flustered he got when he was unable to form a sentence to combat Ominis, his cheeks a bright red as he froze. Ominis had to explain to Sebastian what he meant, teasing him about how oblivious he was. “You talk a lot. Too much, sometimes. But you hardly spoke a word to them when they asked about y/n. You’re not too subtle, are you?”

      You walked in to see Ominis with a devious smile, his index finger still out and ready to poke Sebastian in his side. Sebastian, on the other hand, was frozen in place and red. It was quite a sight to see. You walked over and stood over the two boys. “What are you guys doing?” You asked, a smirk forming as you got a closer look at the scene the two of them had created. Sebastian looked up quickly and stared at you, much like a deer caught alone by a hunter. Ominis’ smile never left. “I was just teasing Sebastian. He’s been acting quite dumb and needed to be told.” Ominis got up and fixed his robes. “Well, I have places to go, so I’ll be seeing the two of you later for a study session for charms. No sleeping this time either.” And with that, he left.

      You took Ominis’ seat next to Sebastian, your smile growing larger as you watched him try to form some sort of sentence. “Have you been dumb, Sebastian?” You teased. Sebastian could only narrow his eyes at you. You continued to tease him, “Aw poor baby. Whatever shall we do?” Sebastian’s face got redder if that was even possible. You took notice of this and went to poke his cheek, the warmth almost burning you. Sebastian, still unable to form words, got up from his seat and turned his back and stood there. You took that as you hint to get up as well, and followed him out to the hall. You kept walking beside him, but were unable to see that he slowed down and walked behind you. When you finally noticed, he had run into your back, burying his head between your shoulders and moving to wrap his arms around you. You felt your cheeks flare up now, unable to do anything. “I’m not that dumb.” He mumbled, seemingly trying to burrow further into your back. At first you thought his feelings had been hurt, but you felt a smile grow on your back, and suddenly your sides were being attacked. “Sebastian you cheater!” You yelled, desperately trying to break free of his grasp. The boy wouldn’t let go, not until he tickled you until you were out of breath and falling to your knees. A triumphant step and a happy hum, he knelt with you, lightly head butting you. “Maybe you’re the dumb one.”

        “You’re both dumb.” Ominis said as he took his seat at the library table. Even after Sebastian had told him about the attack he launched on you, he didn’t say if he ever confessed. You hadn’t even shown up to the study session yet, and Ominis was already cursing you for your own feelings, had you even realized them yet was beyond him. “Now that’s rude.” Sebastian retorted, pulling his book out. Ominis scoffed, “Not rude enough, it appears. How is it that the two of you have not realized this yet? You think “Emotional Support Hufflepuff” was a friendly term or something?” Sebastian furrowed his brow, “Yes, is it not?” Ominis could only shake his head. “You are impossible.”

      A few moments later you had arrived, your book in hand and a quill and parchment in the other. “Get distracted by dancing cacti again?” Sebastian teased as you sat beside him. You shook your head, opening to the page the three of you had left off on. “Sounds like someone didn’t get poked enough.” You mumbled. Ominis let out a snort. The three of you began your study like normal, without you falling asleep this time. Before the library blew out its lights, the three of you left. Ominis had bid you farewell as he made his way back to the Slytherin dorm, claiming that he needed a shower before bed. You were left with Sebastian, who walked by your side and occasionally (and purposely) bumped into you. You gasped as he bumped into you too hard, sending you falling into a wall. Luckily, Sebastian realized just how hard he hit you, and quickly went to grab you before you contacted the stone. He wrapped his arms around you and held you still, muttering a “whoops” into your hair. You huffed, “If you wanted me to fall for you, all you had to do was ask.” You laughed at your own joke, congratulating yourself for coming up with something so fast. Sebastian stayed silent, seemingly holding you tighter. You felt him say something against your head and calmed your laughing down. “What was that?” You asked. Sebastian shook his head, eventually letting go of you and continuing to walk you to your dorm.

[indecisivekitty]

To Undoing The Past

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 930 (i think but idk i got that adhd memory)

genre: angst…(?)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, avoidant man 😔, is that it? idk it’s 1am lmk

He doesn’t understand love.

The concept and the entirety of it. He doesn’t understand what it is. What it looks like. What it feels like.

He thinks if he was a better person or if he had a better life that he’d finally understand. That he’d be able to fully reciprocate what you feel for him. You love him and he knows that, you constantly remind him of the fact. He’ll feel a tightening in his chest and nod before giving you a kiss on your head without saying a word. He’ll hold you close and mull over those three words before locking it in a box and throwing it somewhere deep in his mind.

Simon is at a loss when you’re sat on your bed with your knees pulled tight to your chest after you told him you were pregnant.

What’s the next step?, he wonders, what am I s’pose to do now?

He thinks that maybe he should marry you and move into a house with you. It makes sense. But he isn’t sure what to say as you stare at him while he stands a few feet away from you.

A part of him wants to walk away and leave. No warning or response to the news either. That part of him wants to pretend he didn’t hear what you said and disappear from your life. How can he be a dad when he wasn’t blessed with that from his shitty father growing up?

“Simon?”

Your voice interrupts his line of thinking.

You swallow anxiously. “I know that this isn’t… ideal, let alone planned but I just wanted to say that I’m keeping the baby.”

Simon felt himself grinding his teeth before he willed himself to stop. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be normal and feel what ordinary people felt? He gave a slight nod. “Okay.”

Your knees slid away from your chest, making you sit normally on the bed. “Okay? Simon what does okay mean in this situation?”

He leans on the wall closest to him while he pockets his hands. “Just okay.”

He notes the way you narrow your eyes and look away from him. He wishes he could better himself for you more easily. He frowns, maybe he did love you? He still doesn’t know what anything he feels means.

This all started from a one night stand from a bar meeting and was meant to stay that way, really. But after that night, he couldn’t resist replying to your messages after exchanging numbers and he couldn’t help but itch to call you every few hours.

A year of this going on is what exactly? Simon couldn’t say you were his girlfriend because he never asked but the two of you only saw each other. So what then?

Then came to when you first said, “I love you.”

It was quiet around when it happened, he wasn’t suppose to hear it and you hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You two were in Southport though he can’t remember why. Something about a beach? He just recalls how the both of you drank and how you were getting more tipsy as time went by.

It was sunset and he wasn’t looking at anything particular before you said it. You were staring at him with the biggest smile on your face with crinkled eyes while the wind disturbed bits of your hair.

He thought you were beautiful.

But hearing those words made him freeze. Something inside him plummeting while he searched your face. Your eyes widened suddenly before a hand flew to your mouth. You looked away from him. But Simon couldn’t help but stare at you even as you were turned away from him in embarrassment.

He looks at you now and still thinks about how beautiful you look. He wasn’t sure how worthy of love he was but somehow you were convincing that he was. And that he was deserving of your love. Maybe this news was what he needed to wake up more. He is unsure of that still.

He pushes off the wall to crouch in front of you, one of his hands hovering above your knee in hesitation before he sets it down and tries to reassure you with his thumb rubbing in circles. “I’m sorry,” he starts, his throat feeling tight. Apologies aren’t a normalcy for him. “I want to do this with you. ‘Ave this baby, I mean.”

Reaching up with his free hand to caress your face, he spoke softly, “I think I’m falling in love with you or at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. If anything, I would like to learn how. ‘Specially for our kid.”

He watched the silent tears cascading down your face and wiped them before holding your face with both hands.

He exhaled gruffly. “Been a real fucking asshole to you. Johnny talks my fucking ear off time to time about the way I act. Or shit I did or didn’t do.”

Your hands grabbed his wrists gently. “Si-“

He shushed you before continuing, “No, love, listen. Got a long list of shit I have to make up for before this kid gets here and I can’t waste more time then I already ‘ave.”

A smile finds its way on your face, a laugh leaving you despite the tears and stuffy nose. Rubbing his wrists with your thumb, you joked, “You should go to weekly therapy. Two times a week even.”

“Done.”

“It was mostly a joke.”

“Fuck if I care, did you not hear what I said?”

a/n: i didn’t plan to make it long but a song inspired me and then i kept writing and i’m tired and so this is very not edited. also hey it’s been awhile since i’ve posted something LMAO… sorry fam 😝😗

[unwishablestars]

Hi I’m not sure if you take this type of requests and if you don’t you can just ignore it. Could you do Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, Lifewaever and Mauga (not sure if you writ for him) comforting their s/o after they got rescued from being kidnapped. Can you also add that the s/o was pregnant but had a miscarriage due to the kidnapping? If you don’t want to add the last bit that’s fine.

Thank you. 😊

I failed

Pair(s): Cassidy x Pregnant!Reader | Hanzo x Pregnant!Reader | Genji x Pregnant!Reader | Lifeweaver x Pregnant!Reader

Genre: Angst , Hurt/Comfort (little comfort ngl)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: Headcanons, Angst, Miscarriage, Multi-Character, uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TWs: Miscarriage, Kidnapping, Angst, Mildly-described violence

Summary: Cassidy/Hanzo/Genji/Lifeweaver's partner get kidnapped while pregnant leading to reader's miscarriage.

A/N: HIIIII ANONNNN!!! Thank you so much for your request!<3 I'm really sorry about the delay since life got in the way a bit :( And sorry I don't write for Mauga cuz idk how yet--- fresh hero ykyk</3 I hope you like this though!! Sorry for the delay again :(

Cassidy

Even before joining overwatch Cassidy was already a pretty wanted man due to him being part of the dead lock gang

And it never really changed when he joined overwatch

Though this time he wasn't a criminal but he was still in a dangerous field, but you always loved him because you've seen him in all the ways he loves you.

He was swooned when he met you.

One cheesy love story later, BOOM, you're preggers.

Whether you were a civilian or an agent, Cassidy WILL NOT let you get involved with his work while pregnant.

So he was absolutely distraught when he couldn't find you in you're shared home.

He walks through the door calling out for your name, ready to pamper you for the night, only to get no response.

Suddenly, he sees the signs of struggle. Knocked over furniture, thrown books, and just a general mess of your home

He is frantic.

Starts yelling your name, running around the house trying to look for you. "..Fuck..FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK"

After a few hours, they eventually locate you. They waste no time at all.

The plan was simple, (maybe even too simple), just get you out of there. Unharmed.

Cole, with worry and adrenaline as strong as ever, finds you tied to a chair. Crying, distraught, and bleeding.

Now you lay on the base's medic bay, face showing numbness as you learned the news of your baby.

Everyone had left after attempting to comfort you. All except for you lover.

He held your hand as he felt a familiar pain of loss, holding back tears, he just wanted to make sure you knew you weren't alone. And that he is so sorry.

"Darlin.. fuck.. I'm so sorry.. I was supposed to protect you. Our child.. it's my-- I'm so fucking sorry, love. Please.. please don't hate me."

Of course you didn't hate him. But too exhausted to speak, you brought his hand up to your cheek and weakly said "Just.. stay.."

"Darlin.. I will never leave your side."

Hanzo

Hanzo has been hiding in the shadows and constantly on the run for years. Alone. Until you, of course.

You offered to give him a place to stay after seeing him about to doze off sitting on a bench in the park

"No, it's fine. I'm just resting." He was literally about to pass out--

He had eventually opened up to you after much persistence and kindness, and grew incredibly fond of you.

To him, you brought him peace.

For a while, he tried to lessen contact with you as to avoid any conflicts with the people searching for him.

But he was conflicted when he found out you were pregnant. He did not want to leave your side but he also did not want to endanger you, especially in this state.

After some reassurance, he agreed to stay and take care of you.

He had hoped he would lay low enough that not only would he have to worry about your safety but also be able to be a present father to his child.

But when he came to your shared home and the door wide open, he fuckin lost it.

Frantically looking for you in your home, swearing all sorts in his home tongue didn't solve the issue.

He couldn't find you but he did find an envelope containing you're whereabouts.

They've been planning this for a while, how long were they watching him? Why did they only strike when you're health was so critical.

Hanzo was livid realizing this.

He headed to your location and found you tied to a chair, sac over your head, in a dimly lit warehouse

He knew it was a trap but ain't no way he would let anyone put a finger on you.

After being roughed up himself, (but ultimately beating the shit put of a of em) he took a look at you and saw the bruises, the scrapes

and the blood down there

he held you close, forever blaming himself for what happened

Genji

Genji and you met during your time in overwatch while they were in their prime

He was emo back then but you liked that,

And when he realized he liked you're unconditional admiration, he liked you too.

He didn't admit it of course, neither to himself nor to you but whatever.

Years later, Winston sends the recall.

And he was pleased to find out you had come back,

With a new mentality, a new acceptance of himself, and a more open acceptance of your love.

This time he made the first move, trying to act smooth like his pre-overwatch days, but his stuttering and nervousness gave it away though.

He was worried you'd remembered him as the angry and vengeful man he once was, but you saw who he was deep down

Which is the exact reason why he fell in love with you.

Eventually, after feeling a bit of morning sickness he urged you to go Mercy or Bap or anyone to help you get better.

Only for you to find out you're pregnant.

You stayed away from missions for a while as Genji requested, at most doing paperwork and helping a bit around the base.

But when the base was suddenly attacked, Genji pinned, yelling at you to stayed back.

You tuned out his pleads and gripped your weapon to help the father of your child.

And you did, but you were knocked out and taken away. He was too weak to reach you.

They immediately set out to rescue you, fully aware of your vulnerable state.

Though they had insisted for Genji to heal up first, through his broken visor, he shot them a glare that wouldn't stop him from saving his love.

After finding you in a cell, bruises all over in a weakened state, unconscious, he carried you back to the ship and held you close, eye getting watery.

You woke up in a hospital bed in the medbay, the first thing you notice being the ache your body feels, and the pain in your stomach.

Then, you notice your lover hold you close and tight.

Followed by the sorrowful looks of the doctors.

They left to give you two some space.

"I'm.. so sorry.. please.. forgive me.."

With tears in your eyes, you held each other close, never wanting to let go again.

Lifeweaver

You had worked alongside Lifeweaver in his development of biolight,

He loved having you at his side.

Soon he took you dates, brought you gifts and food, too show appreciation.

Not realizing he was indulging in his growing love for you.

After giving him some clarity of his feeling with a bold kiss, you two were inseparable, even more than before.

After you had missed you're period, you showed your lover the positive test and he way beyond joyful.

He always urged you to rest and didn't let you lift a finger. He didn't want you to be stressed or worried, he saw such beauty in you.

But those you wanted his biolight saw opportunity.

He was out buying food for you and his future baby but he came home to an open door, silence, thrown trinkets and portraits.

In his panic, he wondered whether or not he would need to contact his family. Or Satya. Or Baptiste. Anyone.

He received a video file on his desktop.

Asking for the acces to his biolight as well as the information to it's creation.

He was shaking, he wasn't strong enough to fight them on his own, he needed help. He needed you. Please come back to me.

He cannot wait any longer. He caved. Only for you. And for them.

He had sent all the information they needed. And as breathed heavily on his knees. He heard a vehicle arrive at his estate.

He hurried out, even almost tripping in the process, he needed to see you were okay, that you were both okay.

He saw you being lead to the front gate, and the abductors lackey walking back to their vehicle.

Giving him a face of no remorse.

As he held you in his arms once again, the look in your eyes had told him everything.

You two stayed there. Just feeling the comfort of what you two still had. Each other.

[roturo]

ROLLER COASTER!

①NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: childhood!friends into... ???, 1 sided love, mixed emotions and smut & angst.

→ summary: every goodbye has a why, but why have you been saying a lot of goodbye's without actually leaving?

→ warnings: SMUT. angst, corruption kink, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering & oral (f!receiving), drunk sex, jealousy, 1 sided crush turns into.. idk man, a lot of angst fr, dick grayson is an idiot mwah. words: +2.5k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

December, 2010.

¨ALFREEED! Dick is hitting me again!¨ You called for some help, a smile creeping your face.

¨Hey! That's not fair! We're training! You're supposed to get hurt! It's not my fault you're way too weak to protect yourself.¨ He pointed the training-stick to you, motioning to get up, but his action quickly stopped when he saw a tear running down your cheek.

¨Hey, hey, hey¨ He knelt down in-front of you cupping your cheek and wiped the tear away with his thumb. ¨I'm sorry, okay?, you're not weak, i'm just better than you.¨ That made you jokingly punch him on his stomach at which he only chuckled. ¨Okay, maybe not better than you, but practice makes perfect, c'mon, get up and let's watch some tv.¨

As a kid, you couldn't know what you felt for Dick, you mostly though he was 'special' since he was the only kid living with you and Wayne. A 11 year old knows what's love, and you're sure Dick, as a 14 year old knows it too. He's likely to not think very seriously when you tell him you love him, but in reality?

He's the beast for your beauty.

December, 2014.

You gazed at Dick through curious-lashed eyes, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and adoration. You had been harboring a secret crush on him for what felt like forever. But as much as you treasured this friendship, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

"So, Dick," you began, voice light and teasing, "any thoughts on the winter gala this weekend?¨

Dick's eyes lifted from the book he'd been engrossed in, confusion creasing his forehead. "Winter gala? Oh man, I totally forgot about that. Should we go?"

Your heart sank slightly, but tried to hide it behind a smile. "Hmm, I don't know. I'm not much of a dancer, you know."

Dick laughed, his melodic chuckle resonating in the serene surroundings. "Come on, you just need someone to teach you a few moves."

Your stomach fluttered at the suggestion, butterflies dancing wildly within you. Did Dick just imply he would teach you how to dance? Or were you reading too much into it?

Your laughter filled the air as Dick playfully tried to demonstrate dance steps on the carpet of grass, and much to your delight, you followed along, attempting your own clumsy version.

Hours passed until both of you were breathless from dancing and laughing. You plopped down onto the picnic blanket, side by side, shoulders brushing intimately.

Your mind started to wander, daydreaming about what it would be like if he ever realized your feelings. Would he reciprocate? Or would he still see you as just a friend?

"You know," Dick suddenly said, his voice laced with mischief, "if I had someone who danced with such enthusiasm as you, I wouldn't mind going to the gala at all."

ba-boom, ba-boom, you were sure you're going to pass out. Your eyes widening in disbelief. Could it be that he was finally taking notice of you?

"Really? You… you'd want that… from me?"

Dick tilted his head, his dazzling blue eyes capturing your gaze. "Of course, why not? You're amazing, and being with you always makes me happy."

Leaning against Dick's shoulder, you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of the friendship of you two. Maybe, just maybe, someday he would see you in a different light. But for now, you're just cherishing these moments of pure, unadulterated fun.

December, 2017.

You were at Dick's 21st birth-day, which, Wayne made the 'reunion' for his birth-day, or what he likes to call it, his 'gala'. Your excitement was jumping everywhere, you even bought a new dress for this occasion, his present was a nice bracelet you bought by yourself, with your money.

It wasn't the most expensive, neither the most fancy, but it was made just for him. Unique in this world, well, the matching bracelets were unique in this world. You were ready to finally confess your love for him, bracelets with initial of you two, not because you're owned by the other, but because you know each other. It was your princess dream, and it was finally time for this.

After some final touches, you were ready. Entering the room, you could see a lot of people, mostly Wayne's acquaintances or friends, but you finally spotted him, actually, with Wayne.

You couldn't quite see what was he wearing since you only could see his back, but Wayne seemed happy, at least.

With quick steps, careful to not trip yourself with your dress, and throw away his present, you finally got closer to him.

¨Dicky! I know I already said happy birthday to you, but look-... Oh.¨

Oh.

Who was this girl?

¨Oh Y/N, great you're here, look this is my new girlfriend, her name is Daisy.¨ You locked eyes with her, she seemed nice, ha. ¨Daisy, this is Y/N, she's like my little sister, practically known her my whole life.¨

Oh wow.

¨It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N¨

¨Pleasure it's mine.¨ And with that, it was enough for you, how oblivious this fucker can be? ¨Dick, can we talk for a moment?¨ You didn't even waited for him to answer when you already grabbed his wrist and took him into his room.

When you were at your room, you couldn't take it anymore and broke down crying.

You wandered further into the room, gaze avoiding his as you tried to gather the turbulent thoughts. The weigh of your confession threatening to choke the words from your throat. But you had to do this, even if it costs the friendship.

"I-I've been keeping something to myself for a while," voice quivering. "And I just couldn't hold it in any longer. Dick, I've had a crush on you for as long as I can remember."

His brows furrowed in confusion, and you glanced up for a fleeting moment, catching a glimpse of his girlfriend's picture on his desk. Pain surged through your chest, but you proceeded. "I know you have a girlfriend now, and I understand if you don't feel the same way. But I just couldn't let this day go by without telling you how I feel, this was supposed to be the day, when you think i'm not longer a little child, where you could love me as I do."

Words trembling with vulnerability. Dick remained silent for a moment, his expression laden with guilt. Slowly he closed the distance between you two. His gentle touch on your arm made your heart skip a beat, yet it also stung with unrequited affection.

"I'm really sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. You've been an amazing friend, and I don't want to lose that.¨

¨I'm sorry, but we can't be friends anymore... I will always see you as something else.¨

PRESENT TIME.

You didn't exactly cut connections with Dick, well, since you both lived in the same house for a while more, but let's say you remained as... distant family. You saw each-other at parties, meetings, galas, so... you were still in contact!

Gratefully, not that you would show your happiness, he broke up with his girlfriend, way too manipulative and control freak. But that's not all!, you grew up, your feelings for him didn't disappeared, but you hid them far away from you.

He already knew your boyfriend, he acted kind and nice about it, not that both of you could talk a lot about it.

This gala was made by Wayne, again. Dick got really distant since he resigned from being Robin, and started a new group of Titans, you were a little jealous about it, but mostly sad for not being part of it.

You were talking with some of your boyfriend's friends, some boring conversation about some new business, which you couldn't care less about, but you caught a familiar silhouette not so far from where you are.

Apparently he brought the titans with him, you don't know them personally, just by news, magazines, and well, because of him.

And to say you weren't a little tipsy was a lie. But who could blame you? But being drunk also brings some... distortions about what's really happening. He was drinking too! With another girl!

After some time of asking for more shots, getting all touchy with your boyfriend, just so he could look at you, he's been doing the same, getting all touchy and flirty with her. Everything was like a competition of who would get more jealous first and leave. And well, like he said once, he's better than you.

With clumsy steps, somehow you made into your old room. Memories coming fast liken a roller coaster, emotions beating out the small chest you tried to forget all this time, you needed him.

Clicking his number on your phone, it's like he was waiting for it, like this was going to happen.

¨Heyyyyy' Dicky'- Hic!¨ you giggled at the sudden hiccup, and you could tell Dick was giggling too, it made your heart beat faster. ¨What's wrong little bee?¨ He said, some unrecognizable background noise was getting less and less loud. ¨Little beeeeee'? What's that- hic! type of nickname?¨ Both of you just laughed at the sudden and dumb conversation between two idiots in love.

¨You know... My boyfriend is a little- he- a little shit.¨

¨He's worse than my ex? No waaaaay¨ He said with a chuckle.

¨Yeah, he's been fucking some other girl... I don't know for how much time, but it's been a whileeeee¨ You started laughing suddenly, ¨And you know what I hate most? hic!- It's that surely you been fucking some other bitchees heh-.... bitches before me. You know I hate you for that right love?¨

¨You don't how many nights I been jacking off by myself thinking about you ever since we distanced apart. I didn't realized how much I needed you to be in myyyy life.¨

¨...........¨

¨...............¨

¨.... Dicky... I need you¨

¨Oh... you do princess? Where do you need me?¨

¨In my room, I need you now¨

¨And for what princess? I'm going there.¨ He was giggling while walking.

¨I need you to fuck me for once.¨

That's the last thing he heard when he hang up and with quick steps he got into your room, and with no words needed both of you started kissing each other, between giggles with just one sudden push and you landed among the sheets. Dick got on top of you and started kissing you as you started tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Dick's shoulders were wide, his hips narrow and there was a visible V-line that was half-hidden by his trousers. You were trying not to stare, but it seemed impossible since he was so appealing. Dick helped you to unzip your dress and you were lying only in you lace lingerie. His eyes were devouring you. How he couldn't notice how perfect you were for him?

Suddenly, Dick grabbed you calves and pulled you towards him on the edge of the bed. His free hand reached out for a pillow that was laying nearby and placed it under you hips. You were following closely his every move and your head started spinning a bit, a side effect of the substances in your bloodstream. He kneeled in-between your thighs and was placing small kisses on your bare skin.

His fingers pulled your panties to the side while he looked you in the eye before dragging his tongue over your clit. ¨Ah!- Nng- D..Dick!¨ You moaned at the sensation and reached out to touch his hair. His warm breath was caressing you, his movements were lazy yet precise.

You were getting frustrated with the slow tempo and you were about to say something when he pressed his index finger against your entrance. It didn’t take too long before you were moaning his name as he added another digit. Again, the pool of heat was starting to build up in your stomach while he curled his fingers inside you. Dick seemed amazed by how eagerly your hips were meeting his palm, the wet sounds of him moving his fingers inside you, made him eager to fuck you, he brushed his thumb against your clit once more before giving a small peck and standing up, taking of his pants and what was left of your clothes, he positioned himself between your legs.

You saw Dick right before he thrust his hips to enter you again. Your body was warm, already so fucking wet, he didn’t think he could last long enough for it to be fun, but then he steadied himself and slowed down the pace. He ran a finger across your lips, signaling to open them at which and you opened them wide enough to suck on it. 

He bent over only to start leaving kisses in your neck that would for sure be purple by tomorrow. ¨Aren't you a good girl princess? A good, good girl.¨

¨Such a nice girl for me, I bet no one else has touched this pussy.¨

¨You- you're, ah!~ right, Dicky-, You're the first one to fuck me. Reaching a lot of place my fingers couldn't reach while thinking of you.¨

It's like something on Dick turned on, and started violently thrust into you in a bestial force, making you cum when his cock touched that place. His eyes were even darker, his dilated pupil taking over his blue-crystal eyes.

¨Oh yeah? I'm the first one to fuck you?¨

¨Ye-yes, other b-boys tried to give me pleasure on other ways and couldn't do it as good, nhg!~ as you.¨

His thrusts started becoming harder instead of faster, the though of another man fingering you made him mad. You were now his.

“You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

¨Make me yours Dick.¨

The next day, Dick was kissing your naked body while you were hugged on his, since you were kids you were always the small spoon. He was observing how he could never notice how perfect you are, you were always for him, you were the one.

He feels so incredible right now, the chemistry both of you have, it's amazing.

His fucking phone started ringing.

¨Fuck, the Titans meeting, shit.¨ He looked at your sleepy body and decided to dress you up, and obviously dress himself.

He forgot to leave you a note to notice you he's coming back, but you only realized once he woke you up knocking on your door.

He had... flowers?

¨Dick, why are you here?¨

¨Look Y/N, I know yesterday was a roller coaster of emotions, and I feel so dumb for never loving you the way you deserved to, but please, give me a chance, you won't regret it, and I guess you and your boyfriend-¨

¨Dick.¨

¨Just hear me out for a minute okay?, I never wanted to admit it, mostly because I thought I would lose you, not because of you, but because of me, I don't know what problem I have, but that doesn't matter right now-¨

¨Dick.¨

¨I will fight for us no matter what, and last night definitely wasn't an accident-¨

¨Dick! What are you talking about? What happened yesterday? Did I say something when you came into my room? Did I told you something personal when I called you?! Oh my god...¨

Were you lying?... He froze for a moment, the flowers fell from his hands, and he just started walking away. Is this true? You don't remember?

It feels like the beginning when you both grew apart, it's really hard to adapt at what's going on inside his head. Was yesterday an accident? Does he really loves you? Do you love him?

Why does this feels like a goodbye?

[powerfultenderness]

Hello there author! I know you're taking your time writing the chapter 2 but may we have Neighbor!König visiting y/n to her office, where könig drop off her things or she kinda forgot her lunch something. Thank you for the hard work you put into your fic! WE LOVE IT!

Ahh, i'm sorry! I guess I needed a little time off from writing, but I'm back! And thank you very much!

Lol idk what Reader does for a living, but it sounds nice! I hope you like it!

(Rated T+)

It wasn’t until an hour after your shift started that you realized you’d forgotten your lunch in König’s truck, and it was only because he texted you. You sighed and shot off a quick response, telling him not to worry about it. You can just walk across the street to one of the fast food joints and grab lunch there. You thought nothing more of it and got back to work. 

And you would have continued to think nothing more of it until you saw more than one security guard making their way to the front. Odd. You glanced at the clock, it was still a few minutes before your lunch break, and thus a few minutes before you could be nosy and check out what was going on. Well, at least that's what you thought just before your desk phone rang. 

“There’s a man here for you,”  the receptionist sounded a bit anxious. “I’ve got security keeping him in the lobby, but he’s insisting that he see you.” 

Oh! No! 

“Let me guess, big guy, like, absurdly big. With a scary looking mask?”

“Yea. Should I call the police?”

“Oh please don’t! He’s…harmless.” 

“Are you su-”

“I’ll be down in a sec!” 

Ok, you weren’t entirely sure he was harmless. He had told you stories of his time fighting in war zone conflicts, and though he never said it outright, you’re pretty sure he has a kill count that’s higher than one. But in this particular scenario, just visiting your office, as long as no one tried to fight him, you’re almost certain he wouldn’t do anything. (The thought never crossed your mind that the only other situation in which he’d react violently is if you were threatened in any manner). 

By the time you reached the lobby, there were three security guards standing a few feet from König. Two of them were very clearly nervous. They’re not at all in any kind of shape, one of them is on the elderly side and the other on the pudgy side. The one young man that is in any kind of fighting shape honestly looks so small compared to König. 

“Oh, you can let him through, he’s with me!” You spoke up in a loud, clear, and forcibly cheerful voice. 

You were glad for the time it took to get to the lobby, it’d given you just enough time to think of what to say to security. You weren’t entirely sure on where you stood in relation to König. What were you supposed to refer to him as? At this point he was more than just your neighbor. You could say he was your friend, but somehow that didn’t feel like enough either. Yet to call him your boyfriend or partner felt like a stretch. (He was just a really nice neighbor, who was also a good friend, who you maybe sometimes had a little bit of a crush on). So, for now, he was just “with you”. 

König was used to having his orders followed. It had been years since he had been denied access to anything and these small men that pretended like they could stop him, all while shaking in their boots, were beginning to…annoy him. Just when he was about to push past them, he heard your voice declare that he was with you. 

It was you who slipped past security as you lightly ran up to him. “König!” You smiled and, much to his surprise, pulled him into a quick hug. 

Just like that he forgot about the way dealing with these civilians that worked with you had made his anxiety flare, how he wanted something to fight, to put his physical energy into. It all melted away as his world shrunk to just you. Your body flush against his for a single moment, the soft touch of your hands on his back. He was so tempted to lift his hood and bury his face into the crook of your neck, to inhale the intoxicating aroma that haunted his dreams. He almost whined when you pulled out of the hug, one of your hands moving to the bag that he was carrying. 

"I thought I told you not to worry about it?" 

Before he could stutter out some excuse, you turned around, to the little audience in the lobby, and he had the urge to pull you behind him, to shield you from their eyes. They didn't deserve to look upon you, and certainly didn't deserve your attention. 

Perhaps you thought this too (not quite) since you turned back to him and motioned back to the entrance. "Let's go sit outside, it's nice out." 

He would follow you anywhere, especially when you looped your arms around one of his like that. You led him to a side patio, where a couple of picnic tables and benches were set up under comfortable shade. There were already other people seated in the area, but one look at him and they returned to their business, better to ignore the frightful stranger than to antagonize him. 

You chose a picnic table furthest away from others and took your bag that he had still been carrying and set it down. "Do you have to leave right away?" 

“No.” He shook his head as you sat down on the bench facing outwards.

“Good, then, want to join me for lunch?” 

He sat down next to you, glad that he didn’t have to try to squeeze his legs under the table and probably bang up his knees in the process. He realized, a soft smile pulling at his lips, as you turned to start digging through your bag that that was probably the reason you sat this way, for his comfort. 

He shook his head when you offered a share of your food. "I don't want you to get hungry later." 

"Please, you've seen me buy car snacks, you really think I don't also have desk snacks? I would be just fine even if you hadn't brought my lunch, which, thank you, by the way. This is really nice of you." When was the last time someone had been so thoughtful? 

"You're like a squirrel." He laughed as he accepted the offered food.

"Psh." You playfully rolled your eyes and softly bumped your shoulder into his arm. "If I'm a squirrel, what does that make you?" 

He was silent for a moment, head slightly tilted to the side, before he looked at you, eyes crinkled under his hood in a way that you’d come to recognize as a smile. "A dog." 

"A dog?...But dogs are always chasing squirrels!” You then gasped dramatically, "don't tell me you want to eat me!" 

König fought down the sudden surge of heat brought on by the memory of a dream. It made his responding laugh a bit too loud, a bit too awkward and forced him to attempt to cover it up. By growling and leaning down quickly to nip at your shoulder. 

"Ah!!" You half shrieked and half laughed as you leaned away from him just enough to get out of his silly attempt at biting you through the hood that covered his face. "Stop!" You finally managed through giggles. 

He pulled away with another playful growl and snapped his teeth at you twice. "One day I will catch you, Squirrel." 

"Yea? Then what?" You laughed again. 

He was quiet for just a second too long, eyes boring into you a bit too intensely. He even dropped the playful tone in his voice, now deeper and rougher than you were used to hearing. "I'll eat you." 

It’s a good thing that you weren’t eating or drinking anything at that exact moment or you would have choked at the way it sounded! He certainly couldn’t have meant it like that! You chuckled and looked away from him, hoping he could not tell that your thoughts were less than appropriate. 

Finished with the main part of your lunch, you opened the packed snack cake and portioned it in half, once again intending to share with König, but he shook his head. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like this particular snack, not that he’d ever go out of his way to buy the like either, it’s just that he knew it was your favorite. Though, you must have sensed that, as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him.

You portioned an even smaller piece, “not even a little taste?” And held the piece of confection up at level where you assumed his mouth was.

König froze, if you were offering to feed him…

You reached for the edge of his hood and pulled it forward, giving you room to slip your other hand under it without revealing his face. The backs of your fingers lightly ghosted across his chin until you held the treat near enough to his mouth. Though he remained stock still, eyes never leaving yours, his lips wrapped around the offered treat and his tongue barely brushing against your fingers. 

It was hardly a bite, and his lips and tongue had hardly touched your fingers for half a second. You smiled, hot in the face, and pulled your hand back, “good?” 

He hummed and nodded. “Very good. Sweet.” 

As if your face wasn’t burning enough! 

You looked down at your portion of the sweet treat to realize there was a dab of cream on your finger still. You glanced back at him, not completely titling your head back up, casting your eyes in a coquettish shadow, and licked your finger. “Good.” 

König quietly grunted, one of his hands landing on your knee as he leaned in a little closer to you. He didn’t know why. He just needed to be closer to you, needed to feel you. 

Your breath hitched but you pretended not to be affected by his touch as you quickly finished off your lunch while his fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. You then grabbed his hand, gently squeezing before you pushed it off your knee. “Unfortunately, I am not a general that can dictate my own break times.” 

“What?” 

You cleaned up what trash was left from your lunch and tossed it in a nearby bin. “My lunch is just about up.” Sure enough, an alarm on your phone sounded just as you returned to the table.

König frowned, it felt like he just arrived! How could your lunch be up already? “Oh, let me.” He stood up and grabbed the bag you had stored your lunch in. An excuse to visit you later.

“Thanks.” You started to walk back to the office, him right beside you again. “And thanks again for stopping by. Can you still pick me up after work?” “Yes. Five?” “Yep!” 

König is practically walking on air after lunch, though eager for the end of the day. He couldn’t wait to see you again. 

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed.

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout

[skateordiebitch]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

stoner!dominic x innocent!reader

likeeeee maybe they meet at a party which reader was forced to go to by a friend. reader like, doesn’t drink, never let a joint touch her lips. she somehow gets rlly attached to dom, then he offers her a blunt but reader’s like “oh, i don’t smoke” and he’s FLABBERGASTED

maybe he tries to get her to smoke, idk, just thinking “i don’t care that you’re a stoner” red wine supernova vibes. ty lovely 💋💋

RED WINE SUPERNOVA || D.F x reader

‘baby, why don't you come over?

red wine supernova, falling into me

i don't care that you're a stoner

red wine supernova, fall right into me’

summary: you aren't a party person, yet you end up at a party. you don't drink or smoke; but lucky for you, dominic desires a little more than just weed.

word count: 2.6k

note: this is so cute like omg 😭 inspired by 'red wine supernova' by miss chappell roan, obviously. this request captures the chemistry perfectly!!! i hope you guys love it as much as i loved writing it. as always feel free to send in requests! <3

You weren’t really sure how you ended up at this party. 

Your best friend had convinced you with the usual promise of "just an hour" and "you need to get out more," and you hadn’t had a good excuse to say no. 

Now, though, you were wedged between strangers in the dimly lit house, clutching a cup of water and feeling out of place. The air was thick with the smell of weed and the thumping of a bass that seemed to pulse under your skin. 

You scanned the room, already trying to find your friend to suggest heading home.

But, that’s when you noticed him: a guy leaning against the doorway, laughing with some friends. He had an easy confidence, a wild mess of curls, and a smile that could light up the darkest room. 

Every now and then, he’d stop to take a drag from his blunt, blowing the smoke to the side, always careful not to send it your way. It was a small gesture, but somehow, it made you feel like he was paying attention to you in a way no one else had tonight.

As if sensing you were looking at him, he turned, catching your gaze and holding it for a beat longer than comfortable. Before you knew it, he was weaving through the crowd toward you, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Not having fun, huh?" he asked, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. His voice was warm, edged with amusement.

You shrugged, feeling the awkwardness tighten your shoulders. "I guess I’m just... not really a party person."

He raised an eyebrow, his grin turning playful. “A rebel, then. ‘Not a party person’ at a party—how daring.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide a smile. “Oh, yeah. Breaking all kinds of rules over here.”

“So, tell me,” he said, leaning back and giving you a mischievous grin, “what do you do for fun if you’re not out at parties like this?”

You laughed, “I don’t know. I’m probably not as exciting as you. I’m usually reading, or maybe watching movies, writing. Not much.”

“Reading?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re one of those girls, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you shot back, laughing.

He shrugged, a teasing smile on his lips. “Just that you’re probably smarter than anyone else here. Maybe smarter than me.”

“Only maybe?” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He smirked, taking another slow drag from the blunt. "Oh, it was. Besides," he said, his gaze turning more intense, “I like a girl with brains. Keeps things interesting… Keeps me on my toes.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly under his stare. He had this way of looking at you that felt like he saw right through all the walls you’d built, straight to the person beneath them. 

It was both exhilarating and a little intimidating.

You didn’t know what it was—maybe the playful glint in his eyes, maybe his easy confidence—but you took his hand, and before you knew it, you were laughing and talking like you’d known him for years. 

His name was Dominic, and he was as charming as he was magnetic. Every time he laughed, it was this free, infectious sound that seemed to light him up, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

At some point, he leaned back, pulling a blunt out of his jacket pocket. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that was both mischievous and expectant. "Care to join?"

You shook your head, smiling slightly. “Oh, no. I don’t smoke.”

He stared at you, clearly shocked. “Wait, really?” He laughed, almost incredulous. “You’re telling me you’re this cool and you’ve never even—”

“Nope,” You crossed your arms, trying not to smile at his reaction. "Never even held a joint. I like breathing air.”

Dominic looked at you like you’d just told him you were from another planet. “You’re serious?”

You laughed, a little bashfully. “I guess I just… never got into it. It’s not really my thing. It kinda scares me.”

He shook his head, chuckling, and took a slow drag from the joint, blowing the smoke to the side as he watched you with that same look of fascination. 

“Wild. Here I was thinking everyone’s at least tried it once.” He paused, then tilted his head with a smirk. “You mind if I...?”

You shook your head, smiling at him. “I don’t care that you’re a stoner, Dominic.”

That earned you a laugh, and he took another drag, his eyes flickering to yours with a hint of a challenge. “You sure I can’t change your mind?”

“I think I’ll survive without it,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “Though I appreciate the, uh, enthusiasm.”

“You know,” he continued, still watching you, “I think you’re the first girl I’ve met here who isn’t already, like, wasted out of her mind or trying to do shots off the kitchen counter.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not exactly my style. No offense to your friends or anything.”

“None taken. Trust me, I’d rather be here talking to you than watching another failed attempt at a keg stand.” He grinned, but there was a softness in his expression that told you he meant it.

A comfortable silence fell between you for a moment before he spoke up again. “So, not a drinker, not a smoker… how’d you even end up here?”

“Blame my friend. She insisted I needed a night out.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was light. “Dragged me here, practically kicking and screaming.”

Dominic chuckled. “Well, then I owe her a thank you.” He leaned a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he looked at you with that same captivating intensity. “Because if she hadn’t dragged you here, I wouldn’t have met the most intriguing girl at this party.”

Your stomach did a little flip, and you tried to play it cool, giving him a raised eyebrow. “Oh, really? That’s quite a line.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m serious! You’re different from everyone else here. Most people are just here for a good time, but… you seem like you’re here because you’re looking for something else.”

You tilted your head, feeling strangely vulnerable under his gaze. “And what do you think I’m looking for?”

“Maybe someone to make you realize parties aren’t all that bad?” He winked, the suggestion playful but somehow carrying a weight that made your heart race.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I think that might be a tall order.”

“Well,” he said, smirking, “lucky for you, I’m up for the challenge.” He took another drag from his blunt, still watching you. Then, he held it out toward you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on. One hit won’t kill you.”

You scrunched up your nose, giving him a mock glare. “Are you trying to corrupt me, Dominic?”

He laughed, leaning closer, his face inches from yours. “Maybe just a little. You’re already here, right? Why not go all in?”

“You’re very convincing…” You bit your lip, feigning consideration. “But no.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but also slightly impressed. “You’re really not going to budge, huh?”

You shrugged, smiling up at him. “Guess I’m a little stubborn.”

“I like stubborn,” he said, his voice dropping a little, softer, as his eyes flickered to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. “Besides, it’s kind of refreshing. You know how many people just go along with whatever I say?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re used to getting your way?”

“Usually, yeah.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how charmingly cocky he was. “But I think I like it better when I don’t.”

For a moment, the air felt electric, like something unsaid was hovering between you two. The noises of the party seemed to fade into the background, and you became hyper-aware of how close he was, of the slight pull you felt toward him.

He leaned a little closer, his gaze turning soft but intent. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Why is someone like you, talking to someone like me?” 

You blinked, a little taken aback by the question. “Geez. Someone like you? You make it sound like you’re some lost cause.”

He gave a half-smile, a touch of vulnerability flashing across his face. “I don’t know… Just feel like maybe you’re a little out of my league.”

“Really?” You laugh, “Me, out of your league? Have you seen yourself?”

“Let’s just say I’m not exactly the guy who gets lucky. Especially with the girl who doesn’t do this,” he said, holding up the joint with a grin.

“So, you don’t like girls who smoke?” You asked.

“Well, I like all women,” He emphasizes, “but, a lot of the time I feel like girls only talk to me because I have weed.”

“I highly doubt that’s the case.”

“They’re always like ‘Oh, Dominic, can I have a hit of that?’” He mocks in a high pitched voice, “Dominic, you’re sooo cute… Can we like, smoke?” He mocked again.

You couldn’t contain your laughter, “Wow, what a great impression,” you say sarcastically, “Let’s just say… if I was looking for someone exactly like me, I’d be bored out of my mind.” 

He grinned, visibly flustered for the first time since you’d met him. 

Then, looking down at you, he tapped the blunt against the side of the ashtray, leaning closer than necessary. “Well, then I guess I’m just a lucky guy, tonight.”

“I guess you are.”

He held your gaze a second longer, the warmth of it spreading in a way you weren’t expecting. 

And as the night went on, Dominic kept finding ways to keep you close—whether it was brushing your arm as he reached for something, leaning in just a little too close to make a point, or flashing you that dangerous smile that seemed to cut through all your defenses.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, your head felt lighter than you could remember, and you realized that, somehow, without even trying, Dominic had made you forget about how much you didn’t want to be there. 

He poured himself a shot of tequila, keeping his eyes on you the entire time, “To meeting you,” He said, tipping his head back as you watch his face turn sour. “God, that’s disgusting.”

You nodded your head, eyes bright with a smile, “Exactly why I hate it.”

“So, you’re seriously telling me no one’s ever tempted you to even take a sip of this life?” he asked, still sounding incredulous, leaning back on his elbows as he looked at you. 

You shrugged, smiling slightly. “Maybe they did, but no one’s convinced me as much as you did tonight.” You glanced at him, feeling a shyness you hadn’t felt all night. “Honestly? You’re the first person that’s made me think maybe I should stop being so boring.”

Dominic’s smile softened, and he looked at you for a moment, something warm and almost tender in his eyes. “You aren’t boring, but I guess I’ll take that as a win.”

“Only if you promise not to get too full of yourself,” you teased.

“Can’t make any promises.” He chuckled, leaning closer until his face was just inches from yours. “But maybe you could stick around and keep me humble?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity, his gaze suddenly intense and unwavering. 

“Do you like me or something?” You giggled, “Does Dominic have a little crush?”

Dominic laughed, and the sound was rich, deep, filling the space between you. "A little? Oh no, I don’t do anything halfway," he teased, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m starting to think you might be trouble for me.”

You bit back a smile, looking down to hide how fast your heart was racing. “Trouble?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you’re the troublemaker here.”

“Well, what can I say— Guilty as charged,” he murmured, and without warning, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that seemed completely at odds with his usual bravado. His fingers lingered, tracing softly along your cheek as he studied you.

For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade, replaced only by the pounding of your heart and the feeling of his hand resting on your face. 

"I don’t know what it is about you,” he whispered, his voice lower, softer. “But the second I saw you… I just knew I had to know you.”

Your breath caught, and you didn’t know if it was the way his words were so honest, or the feeling of his hand on your skin, or just the fact that he was looking at you like he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“I think you’ve had too much tequila,” you whispered back, barely able to keep the smile off your face.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I know what I’m saying.” He leaned in, so close you could feel his breath on your skin, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re the most interesting person in this whole place. And I think you know it, too.”

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered, “Well, then, maybe you’ll have to work a little harder to keep me around.”

Dominic grinned, that signature smile making your stomach do flips. “I like the sound of that,” he said, his voice like a dare. He held out his hand, palm up, his eyes daring you to take it. “Come on. Let me show you something.”

You hesitated only a moment before slipping your hand into his. His fingers closed around yours, warm and reassuring, and he led you through the crowd, past groups of laughing friends and scattered red Solo cups, until you reached a quieter corner of the house where the music was only a faint hum.

He stopped and turned to you, his gaze so intense it made your cheeks flush. “You know, I don’t really do this whole… romantic thing,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck almost shyly. “Usually I just… I don’t know. But tonight… you have me acting out of character.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head at him. “Are you saying I make you nervous?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “Or maybe you just make me want to try harder.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you took a step closer. “Then show me what you’ve got,” you murmured, challenging him with a small smile.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Dominic closed the distance between you, his hands resting lightly on your waist as he dipped his head down, brushing his lips softly against yours. 

It was gentle, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. 

But then his grip on your waist tightened, and the kiss deepened, becoming something electric, something that made you forget anyone else was even there.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless. He rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’m pretty glad we met,” he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laughed, feeling lighter and happier than you had in a long time. “Guess that makes two of us, then.”

“Guess it does.” He leaned back, his fingers lacing with yours again as he held your hand. “So, what do you say? Stick around tonight… and maybe tomorrow?”

The party noise picked up again, but it was all a distant hum. Right now, all you could think about was him, and the way his hand fit perfectly around yours.

You looked up at him, your smile soft.

“I think I’d like that.”

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get jealous of jacks cast mate, when in reality you have nothing to worry about

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader is kinda self conscious? a little angst turned to fluff :)

based off this request: Reader thinks jack likes one of his other coworkers (or him and r could be childhood friends) but he acc likes her idk from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: hope you enjoy!! jack is SUCH a loverboy

jacks radiant laugh echoed from your computer screen, which made you pause the video and start sulking. 

you were currently watching an interview over his new romance movie, and god did it make you feel envious.

while his heavenly giggle usually made you grin from ear to ear, this time it made you frown, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

you were upset because he was laughing at his cast mate, annie. annie played his love interest in the movie, and you could tell she liked him. and judging by the way he was looking at her in the video, you thought he liked her back.

she was gorgeous, and talented, and really funny too. everything you thought you weren’t. 

and the real gut punch is you have no right to be jealous. jack and you weren’t dating, but were only childhood friends. you told eachother everything, and spent countless of hours hanging out.

although, there was one thing you didn’t mention to him. you were helplessly in love with him. your crush developed when you were 13, and it never stopped growing. 

you felt like your heart had been stomped on and crumpled up after watching the interview.

it made you feel worse when you realized you were being to much of a “jealous girlfriend” to someone you weren’t even dating. 

tears couldn’t help but fall as you scrolled through the comments. 

user37638- jack and annie DEFINITELY have something going on 👀

jackslover- wait are him and the blond girl dating?!??

anniesfan4lifeeee- jack and annie would lowkey make such a cute couple omg?!?

you started to feel worse as you realized that maybe he was happy. maybe he did really like her, and you needed to support him. ruining fourteen years of friendship over some stupid feelings is crazy. right?

that was until you hear the front door to your apartment opening. oh shit. jack was supposed to come over at 12! why is he here so early?!? 

you checked the time, only to find out that you had spent the whole day sobbing in your, now very messy, bed. you didn’t have time to react before jack was entering your room.

he immediately noticed your tears and went up to you. you stood up out of bed, still wearing your pajamas. well the oversized shirt you had on was his, but whatever.

jack brought you in to a warm embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. after some time, he let go to face you.

he used his thumb to wipe off your tears, looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“y/n what happened? you know i hate seeing you like this. do i need to fight someone for you?” jack asks, trying lightening the mood a little.

you smiled, and he took that as his own personal victory.

“its nothing jack. anyways, how was filming in greece?” you say, trying your best to plaster on a happy face and skip over the topic. it didn’t work. god dammit jack, why are you so caring?!?

“it’s not nothing. y/n tell me, please.” jack looks at you with those adorable brown eyes and you know you have to tell him. even if you don’t want to, its best for jack to know.

“if i tell you this, you have to pinky promise this wont ruin anything.” you say, sticking your finger out. he locks pinkies with you, and you both kiss your thumb, signifying that the promise will be kept. jack then waits patiently for you to continue.

“i like you. more than a friendly way. I’ve felt this way since we were thirteen. if you dont like me back, that fine i guess! or if you like annie I totally understand and i think you would make a cute couple-“ 

jack cuts you off quickly after hearing the last sentence. 

“i dont want annie. i want you.” 

you look up at him shocked, your mouth slightly open. you notice him looking at your lips, and you get the hint. you close the gap, and place your plump lips on his. 

its was like your lips were puzzle pieces, because of how perfectly they fit together. all of your envy washed away at the heavenly sensation. 

you both pulled away from the passionate kiss, your lips coated in a mixture of you and jacks spit. you make eye contact with him, and smile. you could finally call him yours. 

[daydream-believin]

a real stand up guy ba dum tss

summary: you get stood up by an internet man. douxie, your waiter and secret admirer, remedies that jackass’s mistake.

warnings: uh. swearing, alcohol, i’m too lazy to proof, the yooj. oh and doux doesn’t know how to handle this crush without getting slightly into stalker territory sorry. its a red flag but i think its cute. you may not think its cute.

a/n: tumblr was glitching while i tried to post this so idk how many paragraphs i accidentally erased. i mean i tried my best to make that number 0. but anyways if something is off let me know. the challenge for this one is that im not allowed to use italics. which you should know was very hard for me agshjfkgjdjh

taglist: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses

okay quick psa i know it’s been years so if you want off the taglist just hmu. also if you were on the taglist and got taken off thats bc tumblr says you don’t exist anymore

uh this was a request. i’m not doing requests tho dont think that. looking back yeah that ask if from march 2022 and this doesn’t even match up to what you asked 😂 im so sorry @rose-writes-shit

you took a peek at your watch. 7:34 o’ clock. letting your head fall into the open palm of your propped up hand, you sighed.

coffee meets bagel boy was supposed to have met you at 7:00.

of fucking course. you let your plucky pink-haired coworker convince you to download a fucking dating app and make a profile, just for the only guy who had actually been interested enough in you to ask you on a real date to stand you up. makes sense.

it’s not like you’ve ever had luck with these kind of things. it’s not like you’ve ever had luck period. your kind might be the black cat of humans.

you’ve spent way too long eating the free bread at a mr. benoit’s of all places. it was the “classiest” establishment in the certain suburban hellscape of california you inhabited, albeit. you took in the scenery for the millionth time that night with a renewed sense of disgust. at least now you had a legitimate reason to hate this place.

your waiter slinked over, and you could tell he felt bad for you with the awkward shuffling gait to the pity grimace on his face.

“so, uh, perhaps more bread?”

you rolled your face towards him, arbitrarily throwing animosity his way with your dead eyes, just because he was there. but soon your compulsive desire to be the funniest pathetic wretch in the room won out.

“i’m considering burning this whole place down right now, actually,” you joked.

he grit his teeth, sucking in a breath, “could i perhaps convince you to do that on a night i’m not closing, instead? tomorrow is my least favorite coworker’s turn, for your consideration,”

“hmm,” you pretended to think, “i’ll do that then, it’s only kind,”

“thank you for your generosity,” he grinned, “now, are you still waiting for someone or?”

-

douxie had been watching you for over half an hour now. not creepily. he swears. he just got a little excited when he saw you come into the restaurant is all.

anddd maybe he might have badgered the host into giving you one of his tables. but again, he was just excited. he’s been looking for an excuse to talk to you for the past three months, after all. forgive him for jumping on the opportunity.

he maybe fancied you. just a wee bit. perhaps a rather large bit. or at least, the version of you he’s cooked up in his head from the way he sees you interact with people at house parties and the things he’s heard from zoe.

but he’s sure he’ll love you. as soon as he gets to know who you actually are. which, hopefully, is about to be sooner rather than later.

he did not anticipate this situation, however. whatever benevolent deity blessed him on this night decided to throw a jar of pickled herring in with the otherwise yummy pastry filled gift basket they left for him.

not long after you arrived at 6:56 pm, not that he marked the time you came in or anything he just happened to glance at the clock around that time, he watched you, how they say, deflate. your demeanor shifted from antsy to sad to downright annoyed.

you were dressed nicely. not fancy, not pretending like this wasn’t a benoit’s. but nice. orderly. like you wanted to make a good impression on whoever it was you were expecting to meet. so either a date, or mayhaps a job interview.

not that you didn’t look nice or orderly on other days. you just weren’t in your hex tech uniform shirt. or in the incredibly casual clothes you wore when he saw you around. you were just. clearly cleaned-up, is all.

whoever it was, it was obvious that they were not coming. doux applauded you for being patient enough to wait this long, but again, they obviously weren’t coming. which, if it was a date, was good for him, but bad for you. very bad for you.

and honestly who does this person think they are? letting you down like this? horrible. disgraceful. this person was a grade A jerk-off. they have to be dead from the neck up to leave you waiting here like this, publicly embarrassing you as you sat at a table set for two all alone at one of the busiest restaurants in town. shame on them.

he was glad you seemed to be in the joking mood, however. and about arson, too. oh, he’s always had a soft spot for arsonists.

he hoped you’ll forgive him for having to do his job. if it was up to him, he’d give you all the bread in the pantry just so you wouldn’t leave. but alas, he had to deal the killing blow.

“now, are you still waiting for someone, or?”

your eyes drifted downward to the empty wineglass in your hand as you swirled it sarcastically as if it were still full.

you sighed, “yeah, no, it’s clear he doesn’t plan on showing,” you looked back up at him ruefully, “i’ll order now. i shouldn’t have waited this long for an internet man, anyway, huh? could’ve made it less pathetic.”

“i don’t think there’s a way to make these things any ‘more’ or ‘less’ pathetic,” he began taking out his notepad, ready to write, “because i wouldn’t call it pathetic at all. getting stood up is a thing that’s done to you, not because of who you are, but because of who someone else chooses to be… unless you stole this guy’s car or something. then it’s your fault.”

you laughed. genuinely.

“no, no, it’s a first date. i haven’t known this guy long enough to steal his car yet. but thanks… that’s. a better outlook than mine. kinder,” you apologized, “… uh, can i have like, the cheapest bottle of white wine you’ve got back there? the whole thing this time.”

“i take it back. that definitely made it pathetic.”

while you shared a laugh, douxie mentally congratulated himself. you had just given him the information that a) you were single and b) you were into men. a good day to be a charming single man, then. he had a chance.

“so are you ordering any real food as well? or did you plan on just having wine and bread for dinner? have to say, i don’t think that’s wise, love.”

“well i suppose i gotta, since, i’ve, uh, eaten three baskets of complimentary bread,” you stumbled over your words for a second there, “and i’m sure it’d make the manager mad if it didn’t, right?”

“right you are. he’s uh,” douxie lowered his voice, “he’salreadybeenonmydickaboutyou so yeah, you gotta. plus i’m just— you should eat something, yeah.”

you awkwardly turned your attention to the menu as you did that thing where you hold it and pretend to look over the menu as you order like you forgot or something, “the duck confit sounds good for tonight, i think,”

douxie snorted.

“no, no, that wasn’t a joke,” you shook your head, smiling fondly, “i actually just like duck, i promise. no sarcasm. i do understand the irony though. i get it.”

he didn’t completely believe you, “well then, one order of duck confit, coming right up. be back shortly, love.”

doux grabbed the breadbasket on his way out.

when he glanced back to throw you a short and unnoticeable but longing stare, as he paused in the kitchen doorway, you were fidgeting with the flowers on the table. he should get that order in now.

-

when your waiter came back with food, he placed two plates down on the table. you looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head as he took the other seat as well.

“what are you—“

“i called in a favor with the owner. i’m still working but, i’ve got a bit of free time now. if you don’t mind me joining you,”

you shook your head in astonishment.

“not at all,” you smiled, still absolutely flabbergasted that this man would do something like this for you, “you’re douxie, right? zoe’s mentioned you a lot.”

“oH—,” he coughed, “oh, uh, she has?“

“yeah,”

he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “only good things, i pray?”

“oh, sure. sure. good things,” you took a demure little sip of your glass to torture him with the pause implying the contrary.

he swallowed audibly. nervous, then. what dirt did zoe have on him. you watched as he awkwardly shoved up the sleeves of his shirt, perhaps feeling a bit warm now. it was cute.

you’d be sure to ask zoe all about him later. how could you not. this was the most interesting thing to happen all year. and it’s december.

you racked your brain for what you knew of this guy for conversation topics.

“you’re in zoe’s band, right? the lead guitarist.”

his face lit up at the mention of it, “oh, yes. you’ve seen us?”

“once or twice, i believe.”

it wasn’t really your thing, live music. you mostly hung around the back of the bar when you got dragged to shows. you liked loud, sometimes. just not often. it really depended on how your brain was feeling that day.

“well, you’ve gotta come to the next gig, then, at least. i’m sure zoe’s already invited you?” you nodded. “the venue’s holding a wee little music festival, it’s going to be nuclear,”

“ah, that’s fun,” you smiled. that sounded like hell but now that two very enthusiastic wizards have invited you, you don’t have the heart to weasel your way out of it. you’ll bring the “XTREME” ear plugs.

“but yeah, the bands great. i love that i get to play with my mates now. a team that works as well together as we do is rare, so i really appreciate them.”

“speaking of,”

doux hummed inquisitively.

“what’s going on with zoe and that new girly y’all’ve got on the drums?”

“oh,” he paused to take a sip, narrowing his eyes mischievously, “they’re boning.”

you clasped your hands together excitedly, “thank you! you’ve just won me a betting pool.”

he almost had to spit the wine back into his glass,“hhhh. how many?”

“oh, just the entirety of the hex tech arcadia staff.”

“i’m not sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

“which is why you won’t tell her, mr. casperan,” you placed your hand over his with a cheshire cat grin.

well, he couldn’t argue with that.

dinner progressed. alas, you can’t say you lingered as long as you wanted to on conversation. you were kinda rushing things because you felt a little guilty doux was getting someone to cover for him while you had your little date. was this a date. it had to be. as mentioned, he’s going out of his way for this, and you can’t imagine he’d go through all this trouble because he wasn’t interested in you. but then again, you couldn’t believe he was interested in you either.

“do you like cryptozoology?” douxie tried his best to ask nonchalantly while he scratched the bridge of his nose to look a little less interested. he was feeling a bit energized since talking about the band. you had been paying attention to him like he’d been paying attention to you, if only in passing.

“a tad more than the average californian wizard, why?”

“well, later this weekend, i’ve got a job exterminating a goblin infestation in the next town over,”

“snelling?”

“yeah, snelling. the guy i was partnering with told me he was backing out this morning, so now i’ll be going it alone. and im sure you know how fighting goblins alone usually goes.”

“makes it easier for them to gang up on you, yes.”

“see, that’s why i’m asking if you’d be interesting in taking his place?”

“well, i’ve got the weekend off and nothing to do,” he knew that, he got the hex tech schedule from zoe every week(to know how to schedule band practice. and, if he also took a peak at your schedule, it was purely accidental. yeah.), “so, i don’t see why not.”

doux grinned, both relieved he wouldn’t be fighting goblins alone, and feeling clever that he found an excuse to spend more time with you, “perfect, i’ll text you the details? but, oh, i don’t have your number do i?”

you were about to ask why he couldn’t just tell you in person right now, but he said that soo hammy. it took .01 seconds to understand what he was doing. you snorted.

“okay, okay, here,” you held out your hand and he gladly placed his unlocked phone in your hand. you made the contact and sent yourself a text of the first emoji he had in his recents, which happened to be🫀. ah, a goth romantic. you gave him back his phone.

“perfect. thank you, love.” he tucked the phone into his chest dramatically before placing in back into his pocket.

you rolled your eyes fondly, “you know, goblin smashing isn’t exactly my idea of the perfect second date, you might have to turn up the charm.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ll make it worth your while,” he let his head fall into his palm propped up on the table, gaze going soft, “so was this a perfect first date, then?”

you laughed, “hardly. all things considered. but—“

“but?”

“but i’m glad it happened this way. i’ve had a good time, mr. casperan.”

he grinned in agreement, “me too.”

you put your hand on top of the one he left resting on the table, and he took the opportunity to take that hand and gently lay a kiss to the top of your knuckles. he lingered for a moment, eyes shut tight to take in the tenderness of the moment.

alas, he has to go back to work now.

doux pulled out your chair and helped you to your feet. you thanked him as he started stacking the dishes.

“should i—?”

“no, god no,” he chuffed, “i’m the waiter, remember? i work here.”

“oh yeah.”

that reminded you. you shuffled for your wallet, but he stopped you.

“i’m paying for dinner, love. go enjoy the rest of your evening, i’ll text you after i close.”

“you sure?” it didn’t really sit right with you, considering he probably took a pay cut by not working the whole time you were on this little “date.”

“well,” he paused, and placed the dishes back onto the table for time being, “you could leave me a tip, if you know what i mean. just a teeny thing—“

“c’mere,” you snickered as you pulled him down by the lapels to kiss him.

chaste, just a peck. but perfect and sweet all the same.

when you pulled back, you watched as douxie held his eyes closed for just a moment longer than he need to before letting that blinding all encompassing smile bloom across his face.

“well then, a very goodnight to you, y/n l/n.”

[bella-rose29]

Happy New Year - Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: barely proof read (I vaguely looked over it once) and mentions of alcohol consumption

felt like writing this (it's totally not to sweeten you all up for when I post deck the halls part 5 tomorrow whaaat that would be ridiculous I would never do that... 👀)

Tag list (i think this is everyone but idk anything anymore): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

"Right, we've got just over an hour before midnight and George has got the telly all set up for the fireworks display. Holly said she'd be here in about ten minutes and Kipps is coming with her, I'm not entirely sure where Lucy and Norrie are which I should probably be more concerned about, and I think that's everything. Is Flo coming do you know? Because I know George said she hadn't decided yet but-"

"Lockwood?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you sit down? You seem very stressed," Y/n said, smiling at him from behind her mug of tea while she sat in the kitchen, watching Lockwood pace around the table. It was definitely way past her normal bedtime, but Lockwood had seemed so excited about seeing the New Year in with them all that she couldn't exactly say no to him, especially not when he'd given her a small smile filled with hope that she would say yes to spending the evening with him.

That and they'd tested out the speakers earlier, and she would never have been able to sleep with the music as loud as it currently was.

"I am hosting, Y/n/n. I'm meant to be stressed; it's part of the job."

"Well," she started, getting out of her chair and wincing when her bones clicked. She picked up the mug that Lockwood had abandoned on the table and moved over to where he had stopped his pacing. "I think you're meant to drink your tea and have a biscuit. Then everything will be better, yeah?"

"Alright, if that's what the doctor orders," he smiled as he took the mug out of her hand, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight. She'd had a crush on Anthony Lockwood since she first met him a few years ago in a café, both him and his company and her Fittes team winding down after their jobs and grabbing a cup of tea before heading out into the cold again. Then she'd quit her job at Fittes because they stopped giving her work and she couldn't afford the rent, and she'd noticed an ad in the paper for agents to join the psychical agency Lockwood and Co, and she'd been met with the pretty boy from the café again. He'd welcomed her instantly, made her feel at home and gave her a place to live, and over the next couple of years her feelings only grew.

Now they were 18 years old, soon to be celebrating the New Year in 35 Portland Row together, and he was smiling at her like she was the sun.

"Don't tell George about the biscuits though, yeah?" he whispered, leaning in as though it were the sort of secret that could never be told. She nodded, snorting at his mock seriousness.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Can't have you on your own, can we?"

"I wouldn't be alone, Lockwood. I'd have Lucy, and Holly, and George." She frowned a little, considering something. "Although maybe not George if he's killed you. I don't really want to be friends with murderers to be honest." Lockwood let out a laugh, and Y/n couldn't help but grin back at him when his joy was so infectious.

"No, I don't suppose that would be very good, would it?" He chuckled to himself for a moment or so, sipping his tea and munching on a biscuit. "I'm not much looking forward to being the only one not getting a kiss at midnight though."

It surprised her that he'd brought up the topic, since Lockwood had never really shown much interest in that sort of thing before. "Kipps'll probably be on his own too, although I'm not sure you'll be able to convince him to give you a smooch. I'm not kissing anyone either, if that helps."

"I think I'd rather kiss George's underwear than Kipps. You're not even going to kiss Lucy? I thought you two said you would," he asked, attempting to sound disinterested in the whole subject.

"Yeah, well now that she's got Norrie here they're gonna kiss instead, so I'm on my own. And I would also rather kiss George's pants than Kipps."

"Ah."

"Hmm." They drank the remainder of their tea in silence, the music from the speakers that George had set up streaming in despite being muffled through the closed kitchen door. "You know, I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Lockwood looked at her, surprise all over his face. "What about that guy you went on a date with?"

"What? When did I go on a date?" And why did Lockwood sound... jealous?

"A few weeks ago. Oh, what was his name? Dave? Derek?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes! Daniel, that's the one. I knew it started with a 'd'."

"Dan's not... we're not dating, Lockwood. That wasn't a date," she said, feeling increasingly flustered.

"So he just bought you flowers and took you to dinner... as a friend?" Lockwood was definitely jealous, and Y/n had to bite back a laugh at the idea. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind, telling her that it was strange for him to be jealous and wouldn't that mean something? but she wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Well I told him it wasn't a date. And we didn't kiss so I don't see how it's relevant."

"Right." A momentary pause. "But still, how come you haven't kissed anyone before?"

"It's not by choice. I've just never... had the opportunity I guess. You've probably kissed loads of people, what with how many of them you charm every day." Lockwood shrugged.

"Not really. There was one girl a few months ago, but she kissed me after pinning me against a taxi so that I physically couldn't get away from her, so I'm not entirely sure that counts."

"... What?"

"Yeah. After that job for Mrs. Hastings, her daughter followed us out and shoved me against the taxi. I have no idea how she was that strong but I feared for my life."

"You're ridiculous," she muttered as she looked at his face, no hint of anything other than utter seriousness displayed on his features.

"Ah, there you two are!" George said, pushing open the door and talking slightly louder than normal due to the blaring music. "I was wondering where you'd got to! Come on, the others are all here now, and they managed to convince Flo to come along somehow."

Y/n put down her empty tea mug and picked up her plastic cup that had had Lucy's punch in it (although what was in the punch itself she had no idea), and headed into the living room with Lockwood close behind to get comfy for the celebrations.

~~~

"Five minutes everyone!" Lucy shouted. She had since emerged from wherever it was that she'd been hiding (she and Norrie had appeared in giggles and with blushes on their faces, so Y/n felt sure in her assumption of what they'd been up to) and was now handing around a large bottle of some sort of cocktail that she'd mixed earlier.

Y/n and Lockwood were curled up next to each other on the sofa, somehow fitting the both of them on there without falling off. Lockwood was partially sat up, leaning his back against the armrest and holding Y/n close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

"You alright, love?" Lockwood murmured into her ear, and she nodded sleepily. Despite the loud music and alcohol Y/n was feeling worn out from the late hour, and Lockwood's hand stroking through her hair wasn't helping to keep her awake.

"I'm alright. Jus' tired."

"Not long now. Four minutes I think."

"I still don't have anyone to kiss," she said, a frown appearing on her face. The alcohol had made her tipsy, and she pushed herself up to look at Lockwood. "Neither do you. Oh!" she exclaimed, thinking up a brilliant idea that was helped by the drinks in her system. "We should jus' kiss each other, then all of our problems will be solved!"

"I'm not sure about all, love," Lockwood chuckled, and Y/n's frown reappeared.

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, voice growing quiet. "I mean, if you're happy to then... you know. If you don't mind then I don't... we can kiss. If you want."

"I want. I'm not going to lie I've wanted to kiss you for years now. You're so prettyyyy and kind and funny and lovely." She had no control over her words, all of them flying out before she could properly stop and think, and then she was registering them and slapping her hand over her mouth while her face turned red. Lockwood was just staring at her, his mouth slightly open and his face flushed from the alcohol he had drunk, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Why are you hiding, love? You're pretty too, so I don't know why you're not letting me look at you." He was still stroking his fingers through her hair, and when she brought her head back up to smile softly at him he pulled her closer (although she hadn't thought that was possible).

"You're drunk, Lockwood."

"I'm not-sober. There's a difference. Besides, you're not-sober too," he wagged a finger at her with a smile. "Wait, what does me being not-sober have to do with you being pretty?"

"'Cause you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, love." It was almost too much, the fondness in his eyes, and if she wasn't so captivated she would have looked away. "I've wanted to kiss you for years too, I was just never brave enough."

"Ten seconds!" Lucy yelled, and Y/n wondered just how long she'd been staring into Lockwood's eyes for time to pass so quickly.

"Nine!" the others gathered in the room started chanting, not noticing Lockwood and Y/n cuddled up on the sofa. "Eight! Seven! Six!" Lockwood pushed a strand of hair back behind Y/n's ear, his hand lingering at the side of her face and cupping her cheek. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Lockwood," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

"Happy New Year, Y/n/n," he whispered back, pressing his mouth to hers.