#also this was the first time he smiled in the game lmao
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Do you have any Teruvid headcanons??? If so... *Grabby hands* ð¥ºðð
Hey! Man, Teruvid, huh? Well, I have to be honest and say I donât know if I fully grasp what the dynamic would be like, but Iâll see what I can do! Non-despair AU as always, just to keep consistency with my other ship posts :v Or, perhaps a better term would be "non-killing game AU"; it's hard to imagine Teruvid without despair lmao.
CW: Toxic relationship, gaslighting.
How this relationship would start is hard to imagine, really. Especially outside the stress of the killing game. Teruko never believed Davidâs cheery persona was real, so she didnât like the guy from the start.
However, outside of the killing game, David wouldnât be actively trying to kill anyone, and Xander and Teruko would probably still be friends, so it actually works out better than expected. Presumably, the way this works outside the killing game is that David eventually realizes Teruko doesnât believe his façade and chooses to start dropping it around her, eventually enjoying her company just because he doesnât have to keep up a tiring act. Teruko doesnât like him at first, so I imagine it would be David confessing. Something like, uh...
David: We both know no one will ever love us the way we are. And we wonât love each other either, and this is going to end horribly. Teruko: Then why the hell are you even asking? David: Itâs for your benefit, you know. More than anyone else, you must be well aware your luck will ruin any relationship you ever have. Teruko: ⊠David (fake smiling, stars in eyes): But most of them will try to be optimistic, wonât they? Thinking themselves above your luck, wishing that if they just try hard enough, this time, it will work out. How hopeful~. Teruko: ⊠And? David (smirking): And that just means it will hurt them all the worse when it all comes crashing down. And you'll feel even more miserable after all's said and done than you did in the first place. That wouldn't happen with me. Not that I'll let you, but you wouldn't care if you hurt me anyways.
Yeah I canât see this relationship being healthy in any way lmao.
Like, they hate each other even together, thatâs the Vision of Teruvid shippers right? They would both be miserable the entire time itâs happening, since they both reinforce the worst and most damaging views the other holds. If the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker canât even inspire himself to think things can get better, then Teruko has no reason to believe they will. And if Teruko never tries to change despite hating her life, then that confirms to David that people canât change. The relationship is held together by the illusory comfort of confirmation bias; neither has to challenge their worldviews like they would in a relationship that genuinely made them happy, so they feel at peace in their shared misery.
Speaking of, the most common intimate interaction is venting to each other about whatever bullshit they got going on, be it unfortunate events or Speaker business annoyance. Now, neither is particularly good at giving comfort, but theyâre also both bad at receiving it (they donât understand the concept that people can feel genuine affection towards them, of course), so they settle on just⊠not comforting each other. Just a simple âsucksâ after a long rant, or even laughing at each otherâs misery, but again, illusory comfort in being able to vent out their issues without having someone actually worry and care for them, because they donât know how to handle that.
Other than that, lots of just cuddling while doing random shit. Theyâre both horrendously touch starved, so they never stay physically apart if possible.
That said, though, theyâre not very public with their relationship. Obviously; if Teruko never seemed to like David, then theyâre suddenly together, thatâs gonna raise a few eyebrows. And David still tries to keep up the Speaker persona outside his one on one interactions with Teruko, a persona that Teruko dislikes due to its disingenuity, so they never really hang out in the presence of others.
Their closest friends know, except none of them actually realize that Davidâs persona is a lie. They think theyâre keeping it quiet not to attract attention to Teruko, given David is a public figure and all. Because of that, they actually think theyâre good for each other, thinking that Davidâs optimism and Terukoâs pessimism balance out to be pretty functional. This fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship makes David and Teruko both feel even more alienated from their friends, which feeds into the codependency. They need each other, because theyâre the only ones that get it.
Indeed, this is a serious âthey would make each other so much worseâ situation, I canât see Teruvid in any other way. Unless they both get some serious therapy, and even then, the way Iâve described the relationship, it would fall apart if either of them were any more stable. So, uh, yeah.
I kinda struggle to come up with much more than this for these two, so I hope that was okay! Thanks for the ask!
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this was probably the moment my brain chemistry got permanently altered lmao
#because he was just like ''you do this. good luck'' instead of like daijoubuing every 5 minutes like gekkamaru would for example lmao#i think that's also why i like hanzÅ so much because of how no-bullshit he is#and because of how he let enju become more and more skilled and independent at her own pace too#also this was the first time he smiled in the game lmao#nightshade#nightshade otome
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ð£ððð¥ðšð®ð¬ ð£ððð¥ðšð®ð¬, ððšð² // ð£ððð¥ðšð®ð¬ð² ð¡ðð¬
ft. harry j. potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, tom m. riddle, cedric diggory, regulus a. black + bonus: sirius black
warnings. might be ooc but who knows? slight suggestive, house neutral, use of 'gorgeous' but it can go for any gender. established relationship, quite long, oblivious reader (we love it), flirting, insecurities (boys)
a/n. so obsessed with them... song was inspired by jealous girl by lana del ray. oh and also an edit of draco LMAO // experimenting with the format, thank you to my sister for dragging me back into my hp phase.
spotify playlist ; ð£ððð¥ðšð®ð¬ ð£ððð¥ðšð®ð¬, ððšð²
ððŒð, ððŒð ð±ðŒð»'ð ðð®ð»ð»ð® ðºð²ðð ðð¶ï¿œï¿œðµ ðºð², ðºð²ðð ðð¶ððµ ðºð²...
harry j. potter
ðŒðµ ðµð²'ð ðð²ð¿ð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð.
he probably saw someone standing beside you for a bit too long, way too long for his liking anyways.
or maybe how his hand was around your waist but he wasn't touching you, it was just lingering in the air.
maybe some random person hitting on you which, harry isn't surprised about since you are quite literally gorgeous. both in and out.
but what he IS surprised about is how this boy has the audacity to flirt with you!!!
harry side eyes them so hard. not you of course, you never do anything wrong <3
he was sitting with his friends, ron and hermione, you were meant to be sitting with him but your friends were begging for you to stay and he didn't mind, really, so you were off but within a few minutes a boy from ravenclaw decided that this was the perfect time to flirt with you.
at first he didn't understand what was happening, but when he saw him placing his ugly and dirty hands on your thigh while laughing way too hard at, what he assumed was, your joke, and saw how he looked at you, something clicked in his head.
harrys' first instinct was to rush towards you and that boy, push him out of the way and grab ahold of your arm and bringing you some place else. anywhere but there.
he trusted his instinct and did so. hermione attempted to grab his arm to sit him back down but failed. ron cheered his bestfriend on but stopped when hermione shot him a look.
harry rushed there, like speed walked over there. your friend group, you and the boy all whipped towards a very obvious angry harry.
you smiled brightly when you saw your boyfriend but it faltered when you noticed how.. tense and mad he looked.
he pushed the ravenclaw boys' arm away to which he recoiled and gawped at him.
"what do you think you're doing, potter?" he sounded very offended and honestly, harry could care less.
harry didn't respond straight away, rather, looking between him and you. but every time he stared at you and saw how worried you looked he eased a bit. just a bit.
"you. stay away from them." harry stated bitterly before wrapping his arm around your waist and ushering you someplace else with you waving goodbye to your friends with a sheepish smile.
ðµð²'ð ðð²ð¿ð ðœðŒððð. ððŒ. ðð²ð¿ð. ðœðŒððð.
he's gripping onto your arm tightly and you wince, he notices this and stops immediately.
but still drags you somewhere else and you notice how he's pouting and he looks so adorable :(((
you have to stop yourself from smiling from his cuteness <3
when he finally stops dragging you and stops at a somewhat secluded place you question what was wrong and he sighs.
he explains how that " stupid and ugly git" was straight out flirting with you and you're appalled!!
and he's pouty and all when he's explaining to you about his behaviour, holding your hands as he spoke which was quite adorable.
you reassure him that you love him (and will always) and you'd stay far away from that 'nasty boy'
ðµð² ðð¶ð¹ð¹ ð¯ð² ð¯ð¶ððð²ð¿ ð®ð»ð± ðµð¶ð ðµð®ðð¿ð²ð± ððŒðð®ð¿ð±ð ðµð¶ðº ðð¶ð¹ð¹ ð³ðŒð¿ð²ðð²ð¿ ððð®ð ððµð² ðð®ðºð².
harry plays little.. games on him using his invisibility cloak. when you around of course! he loves it when you smile and giggle from seeing the ravenclaw boy get doused with a green slimly substance that reeks of dung.
he pulls on his cloak, places many devices on his cloak or his clothing that makes him smell.
throughout the whole year, the ENTIRE years of staying at hogwarts he will hold a grudge against him. no buts and ifs.
he does not appreciate it when someone flirts with somebody who they know is taken. know is the keyword.
ðµð² ðð¿ðððð ððŒð, ð¯ðð ðµð¶ð ð¶ð»ðð²ð°ðð¿ð¶ðð¶ð²ð ðŽð²ð ððµð² ð¯ð²ððð²ð¿ ðŒð³ ðµð¶ðº.
harry is used to getting attention, he has gotten publicity ever since the word of him surviving the dark lord spread like wildfire.
but he still has insecurities, like everybody. sometimes he feel that he is a burden to you, all the hate and constant questioning and invasion of privacy you're getting all because of him.
when he sees him flirting with you he can't help but feel his heart burn and ache in pain. maybe you're better off without him.
but all his worries and negative thoughts fade away as soon as your hand gently and tenderly cups his cheek, as soon as you reassure and tell him that you only love himâhis worries? gone. his doubts? where?
ðµð²'ð ðŽð¹ðð²ð± ððŒ ððŒðð¿ ðð¶ð±ð².
before you were dating he was by your side or near you, giving you/everybody excuses for why he was so close to you all the time
and now that you're dating? yep, no personal space! unless you need it of course.
but ever since you have been hit on he is watching you AND him like a hawk, ready to pounce and swoop right in when he's in your vicinity.
and you understand him, so he's more than happy when you allow him to keep an eye out for you (he always did but oh shush)
ðµð²'ð ð® ððµðŒð ðŒð³ð³
harry always tried to show off his skills, ever since he laid eyes on you. and this didn't change at all when you two got together and it didn't change when that boy flirted with you
it instead, fueled his need to show off, only for you though
whether it be doing flips and tricks on his firebolt, letting you go on it while he rode it, letting you see new spells he learnt from his teachers (pretend you aren't surprised) and so on.
he shows you all the secret passage ways to go into hogsmeade and sneaks you in with the both of you two under his invisibility cloak.
he just wants to let you know that he loves you so much more than that git.
ðµð²'ð ðððð¯ð¯ðŒð¿ð».
harry wont outright say that he's jealous but wont deny.
he thinks that it's silly. really? him? the boy who lived, the boy who faced the dark lord, voldemort, was jealous all because of his insecurities being triggered by some boy? no. way.
he will try to hide his red and annoyed face when you both lock eyes, making excuse that he was simply hot when it was literally snowing.
he acts like it's nothing, he hides his feelings from you, he really doesn't want to but sometimes people just don't know what to do with their feelings
it may lead to him breaking down in front of you. pull him into a hug, let him rest his head on your chest as you soothe his hair and reassure him.
ðªðµð? 'ðð®ððð² ð'ðº ð® ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð, ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð, ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ð¯ðŒð
ron weasley
honestly! have you seen him in gof (goblet of fire)? this guy gets ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð.
he clenches his jaw when he sees some random guy from slytherin come up to you as you're studying with your friends and just.. stand there, next to you
he hasn't done anything yet but ron knows better. harry notices how tense and agitated his bestfriend is and follows his eyes and that's when he saw a guy from slytherin talking to you, staring down at you in awe .
oh, oh. harry knows what's up now. he nudges hermione who was writing down notes from their previous lesson. she looks annoyed at first but after looking at ron before looking at you, she understands what's happening and smirks.
"ron, don't you think you should grab y/n now? you wouldn't want him to snatch them up do you, now?"
he only grunts in response and grumbles angrily before (after harry cheered him on with a grin) standing up and stomping towards you, well, more like the boy really.
"oooh, well look who it is! a weasley! what? are you here to.." his voice trails off as he makes eye contact with you. you're giving him a stern, mother look.
he bites back his words and glares at ron. "why- i can't talk about him now?" "shut it, go away, i want to be with my boyfriend now."
you can hear him mumbling something along the lines of "i can't believe this!" and "dating a weasley? they're mad!"
while the boy is walking away you could see ron smiling proudly. "yeah that's right, im her boyfriend, skedaddle you git"
ðµð² ðŽð²ðð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ðŒð³ðð²ð», ð¯ðð ððµð² ð³ð²ð²ð¹ð¶ð»ðŽ ðŽðŒð²ð ð®ðð®ð ð¶ð» ð® ðð»ï¿œï¿œï¿œðœ.
ron gets jealous very easily, and often.
all the constant teasing whenever he's around you, all the snickers he gets when he walks by with your arms looped with you as you two stroll through hogsmeade, make his head swarm with insecurities.
but naturally, it goes away when you state that you already have a boyfriend and point at him or when you straight out say that you're proud that he's your boyfriend, poor or not.
it makes him proud. he pulled someone like you, so good looking, kind and not afraid to let everybody know that you two are together.
his doubts? gone.
his heart thumps against his chest when he hears your words and it instantly reassures him, a proud smile spreads across his face as he pulls you into a hug, not caring about the stares that your friends are giving him.
ð¯ðð ð²ðð²ð» ððµðŒððŽðµ ðµð¶ð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒððð ð³ð®ð¹ðð²ð¿ð, ðµð¶ð ð¶ð»ðð²ð°ðð¿ð¶ðð¶ð²ð ððð¶ð¹ð¹ ð¹ð¶ð»ðŽð²ð¿.
ever since getting together he has felt insecure, his status and looks.
sometimes he doubts himself, how could someone like you, ever like someone like him? poor, either average or not-so-good grades and... poor..
when he sees you talking to someone that is richer than him, much more handsome and whatnot his heart cant help but pang in pain.
you're much better off without him.
he beats himself too much honestly :((
so when your eyes lock with his and when he sees how you break into a big smile, when he sees you running towards him and jump into his arms, everything seems to fade away like it was never there to begin with.
just like harry, ðµð²'ð ðððð¯ð¯ðŒð¿ð».
ron will never admit that he's jealous. unless he gets really irritated from the constant flirting and his insecurities, then he may lash out and confess his jealousy/feelings.
he'd change topics whenever you bring it up.
"hey ron?" "yes.... love?" you can hear the worry in his voice but carry on, "do you like ever get jealous? because i feel like that one time-" "aaaaah yes, look! the owls are here!" he looks up and points at nothing.
"ron, baby, there's nothing. i think you ought to get some glasses like harry, right harry?" you quirk your brows and eye harry who lifts one finger up as he chews faster before replying, "oh yeah, definenetly."
draco malfoy
mmm yes, ðµð®ðð¿ð²ð±.
the second he laid eyes on both you and the guy sitting next to you he's already plotting a plan to murder the boy.
maybe not murder but who's gonna stop him?
the worst bit was that he KNEW who it was!! it was his friend!! betrayal is what it is.
bombASTIC side eye. like he's side eyeing him so hard.
if looks could kill they'd be on the floor already ;(
draco was fine with him honestly, he was in his house and they all hated the same people.
but as SOON as he sees him sitting extremeeeeely close to you, the liking of him goes away, literally any positive feeling that he had about him is gone
not only that but he'll ððµð¿ð²ð®ðð²ð» ððµð²ðº ðŒð¿ ðºð®ðð¯ð² ð²ðð²ð» ðµð²ð
ððµð²ðº, yes, you heard me correctly, or, saw..
he goes into the library to flip through all the dark art/magic books and everybody is looking at him because he NEVER comes into the library, unless you're there of course or when you're dragging him there to study and whatnot.
goes to professor snape as well.
"professor.. may i ask, what are one of the hexes you can bewitch on someone? .... the horrible ones, just for research sir"
honestly snape does not care and tells him, if only he knew...
and so while you're by his side just rambling about your next class he secretly pulls out his wand which is covered by his cloak, and points it to the victim and proceeds to hex him
the stinging hex
yeah.... now the 'poor boy' is literally howling in pain.
sigh, ððµð¿ð²ð®ðð..
"my father will be hearing about you!" or, "come close to y/n again and you will be met with something an eye has never seen before!"
draco, im pretty sure that your father is sick of you complaining to him about some 'brute'
and if he's nice enough, he won't hex them, he'll just warn them that he will hex them within a few weeks <333 lovely, isn't it?
ððŒ ððŒ ð°ð¹ð¶ð»ðŽð it's kind of scary, for everybody anyways.
he's not thaaaat clingy but when he's jealous? yeah... a WHOLE different person.
head on your shoulder, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, his hand pressed against your back as you two walk in the hallways, so so touchy.
ððŒ ðœð²ððð, he tries his HARDEST to ignore you but every time he forces himself to turn the other way when he sees you waving at him with your bright and stupid smile, his heart aches.
he hates it, he doesn't want to ignore you but he's so petty.
but don't worry! it wont last forever as he gives in with your pretty face.
"ugh, you and that stupid face of yours... and no i am not calling you ugly."
ðð³ ð ð°ð®ð»'ð ðµð®ðð² ððŒð ð¯ð®ð¯ð, ð¶ð³ ð ð°ð®ð»'ð ðµð®ðð² ððŒð ð¯ð®ð¯ð
tom m. riddle
ooouu he's fighting the urge to just crucio this person right now, he's a ðð°ð®ð¿ð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ðððœð² ðŒð³ ðœð²ð¿ððŒð», not to you of course, you're his cute little ball of sunshine!
unless you're not.. but! you're still so cute and bubbly (even if you aren't but shush, you are to him!!)
but alas, he can not. he would expelled if he did or worse, go to azkaban.. and of course he doesn't want to leave his cute lil lover
but it wouldn't hurt to do it secretly right...?
ðµð²'ð ððð±ð±ð²ð»ð¹ð ððµð² #ð ðºðŒðð ð®ð³ð³ð²ð°ðð¶ðŒð»ð®ðð² ðœð²ð¿ððŒð» ð¶ð» ððµð² ð²ð»ðð¶ð¿ð² ðð°ðµðŒðŒð¹. like WAY more hugs and pda than usual
and people (thankfully) get the hint and strays away from you.
tom always has his arm around your waist and you're practically hip to hip every day, walking through the halls, going outside, going to hogsmeade and etc.
he's keep his hand on your shoulder to make sure that everybody knows that you're his. also because he likes it there :)
hands intertwined forever!! loves the feeling of your palm against his, loves to tell the difference between your hands to his, if yours is softer, smoother, calloused, etc.
while you two are walking through the hall (hip to hip) and he *can just* sense that there's a person right behind you who has their eye on you, he slowly turns his head around but not enough for you to notice and just side eyes them like damn
ðµð² ð¿ð®ð¿ð²ð¹ð ðŽð²ðð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð, ð®ð»ð± ðµð²'ð ð»ðŒð ð¶ð»ðð²ð°ðð¿ð² ð®ð ðð²ð¹ð¹! he has quite an ego but not an abnormally large one. he knows he's not ugly and never doubts himself.
(and he makes sure that you aren't doubting yourself!!)
so he never gets reaaally jealous or doubts himself when he sees someone eyeing you suspiciously.
he can control his temper but sometimes he lets some actions slip. for example: clenching his jaws and eyeing the soon-to-be-hexed-victim and not taking his eyes off of them.
and when his temper goes off the radar? now you've gone done it.
good luck, you'll need it.
ððŒðº ð¶ð ðœðŒððð²ððð¶ðð² ððµð²ð» ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð.
but not a toxic type of possessive although many people would believe him to be, but he's not!!
he would never dream of hurting you mentally or physically. he'd try to.. lets say 'mark' you.
giving you his jumper/jacket even when it's not cold, secretly giving you a few spritz of his signature fragrance on your cloak when you're not looking or distracted, giving you a few of his jewelry that he loves dearly.
just wants everybody to know that you're his :)
if you're in a different house than his he will make sure to ðŽð¶ðð² ð® ð¹ð²ð°ððð¿ð² on how they should not touch you inappropriately, talk to you nicely or else, NEVER help you for assessments UNLESS you ask them, he wants to help you himself!!
tom is one clingy baby
cedric diggory
oh our precious boy :(
ðµð² ððð¥ððð¬ ðŽð²ðð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð!! he trusts you to the MAX, he knows that you will never leave him for some git guy who you barely know
cedric is pretty popular in hogwarts so that mean that everybody knows that you're his lover (unless you or he wants to keep it a secret but why would he?? he would be proud to have someone like you!)
but when cedric does get jealous... it's not so bad actually!!! he's never that jealous. well not jealous to the point where he despises them for his whole life and give them death glares, good god, never.
but when he sees a guy that he doesn't really like talking to you and leans too close to you, it pulls on his heartstrings and he hates it.
inside he's thinking "now why would you do that?! you have the AUDACITY to talk to my one and only!!!"
walks over to you two and smiles innocently and asks if you want him to walk you class as the next lesson is starting soon, you nod cuz?!?! how could you say no to your pretty boyfriend?!? and so you get up and leave the poor guy sitting beside you and hold onto cedric's arm and you two are off to class <3
ðŽð²ðð ð® ð¹ð¶ððð¹ð² ðœð¿ðŒðð²ð°ðð¶ðð² ðŒð³ ððŒð, i mean he can be protective when he needs to but he knows you can handle your problems by yourself. you're strong after all.
but after seeing you hang out with that guy he makes sure to subtly let them know that you're already taken (shouldn't he already know??)
swapping scarves, making sure to be by your side all the time, his hand on your waist, giving you his fragrance so that you could use it all the time (and then the guy sniffs the air and he's like "why do you smell like cedric?")
ð°ð²ð±ð¿ð¶ð° ðºð®ðžð²ð ð¶ð ðð²ð¿ð ðŒð¯ðð¶ðŒðð ððµð®ð ððŒð ðððŒ ð®ð¿ð² ð§ð¢ððð§ððð¥ ð§ð¢ððð§ððð¥ but somehow the boy just doesn't get it!!
when he asks you for help in potions class cedric butts in and offers to help him instead of you, and you don't miss the pout on his face as he turns away.
he tries to show off his skills in quidditch to which you only smile at before cedric shows up and proceeds to just make the guy look like he was a joke.
and everybody including cedric and you notices how red and angry he looks like.. calm down
ðµð²'ð ððµð² ðððœð² ððŒ ðð®ð¹ðž ððŒ ððŒð ð®ð¯ðŒðð ð¶ð, ðµð¶ð ð³ð²ð²ð¹ð¶ð»ðŽð, ðµð¶ð ððµðŒððŽðµðð ð®ð»ð± ððŒ ðŒð». for the other boys it may take them forever to talk to you about it, but cedric? only takes about a day or so, depending on how much the boy is bothering you.
when you're away from the pestering boy and your friends he pulls you aside and talks to you about what he thinks about the guy and how he's feeling.
you understand his words and nod along, agreeing with what he said. "i'll keep your words in mind, if it makes you more comfortable i could maybe talk to him about it? maybe ignore him?"
cedric is more than happy when you do ignore him/talk to him about it.
and at the end of the day and from that very day he walks by you and cedric with a scowl and a red face.
ðð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð, ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð, ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ð¯ðŒð
regulus a. black
ð±ð²ð®ððµ ðŽð¹ð®ð¿ð²ð ððµð²ð¿ð², ððµð²ð¿ð² ð®ð»ð± ððµð²ð¿ð². regulus always had to give everybody death stares, even if it wasn't intentional. but to you? his gaze softens, his face seems to rest, his body relaxes and his heart starts to beat fast.
so there is, without a doubt that he will give everybody death stares and dirties except you.
and it didn't change when you two got into a relationship.. like at all... so when he sees somebody stare at you for too long (over 8 seconds) he walks over to you, passing the person and giving the most death glariest of them all.
and of course they turn their head around and pretend to focus on their work.
"mm oh yes.. this and that..." and then they stop muttering once they feel that regulus is away but when they turn to look at you once more they see regulus sitting right beside you, and even though his head is turned to face you, with a soft smile on his face, they can see that regulus is glaring at them at the same time.
scary.
ðœð¿ðŒðð²ð°ðð¶ðð² ððŒ ððµð² ð ðð«, the bar is FILLED.
before you two started to date he would always be within you vicinity, some may say that it was creepy or stalker behaviour but he really just didn't want you to be bullied by his fellow slytherin so called "friends"
and the first time he saw them bully you he immediately decided, right there and then, to ignore them for the rest of his life, never help them with their homework or even interact with them. not when they hurt and outright said many hurtful things to your face.
he would be sitting beside a large tree, pretending to do his work in his book while watching you like a hawk
and when regulus sees his ex-friends or somebody/a group of people walking up to you that he deems suspicious he's quick to mutter a jinx and watch the scene unfold
many people that were around that area burst out laughing from seeing someone with jelly-like legs, and best of all, you were laughing as well!!
so you can best believe that regulus will always be there for you, jinxing whoever dares to mess with you and making sure no teachers can do a counter-curse.
ð® ð¹ð¶ððð¹ð² ð¯ð¶ð ðœð²ððð. just a little bit...
but he won't ignore you on purpose forever you know, he's not that mean and petty. but when he's feeling VERY jealous then he may just give you the cold shoulder, for 10 seconds aprox, or less.
ð®ðµ ðð²ð, ððµð¿ð²ð®ðð. "i will jinx you. don't make me." "come near y/n ever again and my wand might just be in my hand and i may just accidentally flick my wand, that is coincidentally pointed at you, and 'accidentally' jinx you! or worse, hex."
he even uses his house as a threat.
"as you know.. my house is slytherin, and if you didn't know, most slytherins as the people say, are death eaters. so watch yourself now. come close to y/n and don't be surprised if the dark lord appears in your room."
ð¿ð²ðŽðð¹ðð ð¯ð²ð°ðŒðºð²ð ðºðð°ðµ ðºðŒð¿ð² ð®ð³ð³ð²ð°ðð¶ðŒð»ð®ðð², ðºðŒð¿ð² ððµð®ð» ðððð®ð¹ ð®ð»ððð®ðð.
he's not the type to overload you with hugs and pda, unless you like it, but when he knows and SEES that somebody is trying to flirt with you he is a whole different person.
one day you woke up, got ready, said good morning to your friends and went out of your common room where you saw your boyfriend standing right in front of you
"oh my word", "good morning, love. lets go eat now hm?" he slips his arm around your waist and keeps you close.
he's more affectionate than usual and you are not complaining.
bonus: sirius black
first of all, how dare you. you dare try to flirt with MY lover??? A for effort i guess.
ðµðŒð»ð²ððð¹ð ð¶ð'ð ððµð² ðŒððµð²ð¿ ðð®ð ð®ð¿ðŒðð»ð±. ð§ððð¬'ð¥ð ððµð² ðŒð»ð² ðŽð²ððð¶ð»ðŽ ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ð¶ð»ððð²ð®ð± ðŒð³ ðð¶ð¿ð¶ðð.
image this, you and sirius are sitting beside each other, hands intertwined s he kisses your forehead while on the other side sits a very lonely, miserable and jealous person who attempted to flirt with you. your side is all sunshine and rainbows while theirs are... quite the opposite.
:))) they love their life
the reason why they flirted with you was to try to maybe swoon you but of course failed as you had a boyfriend whom you love very much.
their face is all red and hot when they spot you and sirius being all cute, snogging each other with smiles on your faces, fists clenching by their side before storming offâpushing people away who stood in front of them.
just like the others ðµð²'ð ðœð¿ðŒðð²ð°ðð¶ðð². a silly protective type of guy? he won't try to be intimidating or scary, okay maybe he transformed into his dog form and scared them but that was only one time!
but maybe a jinx there and there will help them get the idea. or maybe his arm around your waist will do.
ðµð²'ð ð»ðŒð ððµð®ð ð·ð²ð®ð¹ðŒðð ðð»ð¹ð²ðð ðµð² ð³ð²ð²ð¹ð ððµð®ð ððµð²ð'ð¿ð² ð® ððµð¿ð²ð®ð ððŒ ððµð² ð¿ð²ð¹ð®ðð¶ðŒð»ððµð¶ðœ.
sirius is never serious (heh heh did you get it?) unless somebody crosses the line or if he feels that they are a threat to you or the relationship.
his jealousy levels are at a 3/10 but once he you know, sense that they have ill intentions the levels SPIKE. so like.. 13/10.
when you two are walking through the crowded hallway and he spots the person walking towards your area sirius is quick to change sides and leads you away from them <3
ð¯ð¶ð ðŒð³ ð® ðð²ð®ðð², ð²ðµ? not to you though, to the person.
"why, aren't you a lonely thing? do me, no... us, a favor and leave will you? you're sort of ruining our moment here."
note: if you would like to be added to the harry potter taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy
taglist ð·ïž: @tomansimp, @luciphyls, @howlandhakuâ
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!
another note: ah yes, procrastinating at its finest. life has not be treating me well ngl... anyways i hope the new addition (the gifs) look well, i want my content to be nice and presentable to you guys <3 the reason why i said sirius was a bonus was bc i uhm, kind of forgot him... and that i didn't want to add him in the picture bc im lazy like that. sorry it was short also added regulus!!! yayyy
#harry potter x reader#ron weasley x reader#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#tom riddle x reader#cedric diggory x reader#cedric x reader#regulus black x reader#â⧠· . fandom: harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sirius black x reader
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Between the Titles
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)
warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink
Length: ~9.5k
Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this
Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.
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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. Itâs far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesnât pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.
As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. Heâs the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesnât even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.Â
Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know heâs mixed in for his own amusement.Â
Itâs become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone elseâs, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Donât Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.Â
You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man youâd become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.
Since then youâve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasnât fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.
Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.
Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.
But this morning you have notes to write.
Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.
The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.
A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.
Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energyâÂ
Iâm in Love with MothmanâŠ
Well there it is.
You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which youâve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.
Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.
When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.Â
His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you wonât be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.Â
A thick piece of library paper lists the materials youâll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.
Yoongi isnât at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.Â
Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, âWhereâs Yoonââ
âStaff meeting,â he interjects like heâs already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. âBut I can help you!â
His name tag isnât the same engraved golden metal Yoongiâs is, itâs a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as âJungkookâ and below âVolunteer.â Youâve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.Â
âI need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.â
âSure.â Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. âWhatâs your last name?â
He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.Â
âAlright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that Iâve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient MediterraneanâŠâ Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. âAnd, um, this one isnât on the list.â
It must be Yoongiâs choice for the day.
âWhat is it?â
Jungkook looks like heâs trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.
If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.
âHuh,â you blush. âWonder how that got in there.â
âHe must have left it by mistake. I can put it baââ
âNo, Iâll take it.â You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. âThanks for your help!â
Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. Itâs one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.
As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongiâs goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.
I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, donât.
Even though he hadnât signed it, you know itâs from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.Â
You donât dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.
The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.
âSomething wrong?â Yoongi asks.
With a heavy sigh, you respond.âI want to die.â
âGet in line.â
Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.
Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.Â
âEverything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.â
âBummer.â
âYour sincerity is overwhelming.â You snap.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesnât move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. âYouâve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?â
âBecause all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.â
âThose books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.â
Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.
âYoongi,â you sing.
Yoongiâs gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.âWhat?â
You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that wonât dampen the high.
âLooks like youâll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.â
He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.
âI asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.â You smirk. âI think you're losing your touch.â
He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.
âWell, I guess youâre right,â Yoongi sighs, standing. âDo you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?â
With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands youâve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.
If you keep staring, youâre likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until heâs disappearing down the hall.
On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongiâs mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. Heâs absent again but it doesn't matter.
You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl heâs constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.Â
Of course he smokes.
The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.Â
âYou know those things will kill you, right?âÂ
âThatâs what the box says but they arenât holding up their end of the deal,â Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. âWow, out before six. Iâll alert the press.â
âWell, if someone gave me the right books then maybe Iâd stay longer. But Iâm not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.â
Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, âAre you trying to say I forced you to take a break?â
The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. Heâs never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times youâve offered understanding if he couldnât get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.
âYou brought me the wrong copies on purpose!â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â Heâs lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But heâs already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. âHave a good night, Y/N.â
With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.
The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.
Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.
âWhat are you doing here?â he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.
Bleach curled in your nostrils. âI live here.âÂ
âNot between the hours of eight and seven.â
But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadnât set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months youâve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that itâs none of his business what you do and when you do it.
Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.
âEncyclopedias are on your desk,â he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.
âAre they the right copies this time?â
âDouble checked them myself.â
You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongiâs pick of the day catches your eye.
Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.
Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. âDo you think youâre funny?â
The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, âI think Iâm hilarious.â
Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.Â
Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongiâs extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. Itâs why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.
You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.
Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.
Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.
Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever heâd been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.
âWhat's this?â
âThought you might like some new reading.â You flash your teeth.
His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. âI already gave this two stars on Goodreads.â
Of course he has.
Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.
Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesnât speak, doesnât try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.
You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.Â
It isnât much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You arenât known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while youâre ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. Youâre a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.
You donât see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point youâll have to go downstairs to face the music.Â
Heâs waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.Â
The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.
Jungkookâs smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.Â
Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for todayâs dissection.Â
âYoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while youâre working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.â
âOh.â
Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. âBetween you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But donât tell him I said that.â
âWhy?â
âBecause heâs a coffee snob and thinks his shitâsorryâstuff is the best.â
âOkay,â you say, grabbing your pile. âThanks.â
You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food itâs encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.
A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you havenât seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.Â
Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. Itâs somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.
The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.
You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. Youâre about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.
Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.
A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.
âLooking for something?âÂ
Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course heâd find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But youâre in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.
âNope, just getting in some exerciseâ you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.
Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. âAnd climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?â
âYou smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.â
Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.Â
âAlright spider-monkey, that's enough.â His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.Â
Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you donât even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.
âThis one?â You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.
Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesnât seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.
âHuh?â you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.
âI said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.â
âOh.â
âYou okay?â he asks, stepping further into you. âYou look a little flushed.â
The bastard smiles. A Godâs honest smile like his thigh isnât between your own, or he isnât waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.
Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.Â
Then youâre kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.Â
The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.
A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until heâs tilting his chin the way you want. Itâs a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.Â
The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.
âOh my god,â you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. âIââ
Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you havenât hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.
Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.
To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongiâs; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.
A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.
Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.
Try as you might to drown under piles of books, itâs useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.
The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you wonât allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarianâs entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadnât been Yoongi it would have been someone else.Â
At least thatâs what you tell yourself.
A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day youâll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.Â
Yoongiâs waiting behind the counter. He isnât typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like heâs eager for a confrontation.Â
âYoongi,â you say.
âY/N.â
You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. âIâll need these same ones tomorrow.â
âOkay.â He nods. âAnd the kiss?â
âWhat kiss?â you croak.
Yoongiâs eyes blaze like youâre a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. âThe one where youââ
âMust have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!â You rush for the door before he can say another word.
Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.Â
âLook, Iâm not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe youâll rub off on me,â Taehyung says.
Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. âI think youâve had plenty of people rub off on you.â
Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. âAre you calling me a slut?âÂ
âYes.â
âGood, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?â
Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkookâs hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.
âYes.â
âAnd Iâm the slut?â Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. âWhat? Heâs a nerdâs walking wet dream.âÂ
âAnd he can hear you, so shut up.â
âMorning!â Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.Â
He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that canât be true. Yoongi doesnât seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.
Taehyungâs attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, heâs on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.Â
âY/N, Y/Nâs friend,â Yoongi says when you approach his desk.Â
âTaehyung.âÂ
âRight,â Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.
Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.Â
âWell he seems like a cup of sunshine,â Taehyung whispers.Â
âJust because he isnât fawning over you doesnât mean heâs an asshole.â
âIâm very fawn-able, ask anyone,â your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. âWait, what's this⊠How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit heâs giving you? Youâre easier than I am.â
âGive me that.â You snatch the paperback out of his grip. âStop being nosy.â
Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad heâd never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.
After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone elseâs dime sounds perfect.
âIâm getting coffee.â
âBring me some,â Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.
The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.Â
You pour two cups. Taehyungâs gets loaded with creamer cups until itâs closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.
Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.
Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.
âUnofficial Employee of the Month: JungkookâÂ
A note in Yoongiâs tight script: âYou donât work here.â
âThatâs why it's unofficial!â in what must be Jungkookâs messy handwriting.
âYouâre my official employee of the month. - Namjoonâ
At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled âJKâ and âJoonâ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and âyoongi :(â overhead.
âSnooping for secrets?â
âJesus Christ,â you jump, turning to face Yoongi. âHas anyone ever told you itâs rude to sneak up on people?â
âYouâre in the staff lounge, thereâs gonna be staff here.â Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesnât add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. âSo, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?â
âYou think Taehyung is my boyfriend?â You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. âJungkook is more his type than I am.â
Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. âSo no boyfriend then?â
âNope.â
Youâre shaking but donât look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.Â
This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongiâs lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.
His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like heâll never get a chance again.Â
âYoongi,â you hum on the first rake of teeth.Â
He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.Â
A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.Â
Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that youâll go mad if you donât feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.
Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.Â
His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. Itâs a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.
âHey, Yoongi, do you know whereâHOLY SHIT!â
Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.Â
âGet out!â Yoongi barks. Heâs trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger manâs view but even if Jungkook isnât getting a full frontal he isnât dumb enough not to realize whatâs going on.
Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. Youâre already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.
âIâm just gonnaâŠgo,â you mumble, scurrying out the door.
Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didnât catch you in the act.
Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadnât interrupted?Â
âCoffee?â Taehyung asks as you approach the table.
You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where youâve been.Â
âThey were out.âÂ
With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.
âYou left this in the break room,â Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.Â
You turn to follow his retreating for until heâs hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.
âI thought they were out?â Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.
Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. âShut up.â
âSo you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.âÂ
âIâm not sleeping with him,â you spit in a harsh whisper.
âWhy not?â
âBecauseâŠâ
Because what exactly? There isnât a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But youâd rather die than admit that out loud.
âYou are so smart and so incredibly stupid.â Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. âI need to pee.â
You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.
When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. âIâm leaving.â
âWhy?â
âThis is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.â
âYou got Jungkookâs number,â you deadpan.
Taehyung canât hide his own shit eating grin. âYoongi gave it to me.â
âIf youâre leaving, so am I.â
âWhy?â your roommate whines.Â
âBecause I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.â
âTechnically it was Yoongi but Iâll concede.â Taehyung heaves his bag up. âCome now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.âÂ
You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. âGo wait in the car. Iâve gotta go grab another book real quick.â
âWhatever,â Taehyung says, mumbling something like ânerdsâ under his breath as he heads downstairs.
You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyungâs picks and somehow the knowledge theyâve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and thatâs what worries you most.
âHi,â he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.
It shouldnât have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you werenât interrupted in the staff lounge youâd have seen it in real life.
âHi. Mind if I add these to the pile?âÂ
âGo ahead.â
The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You donât wait around to see his reaction.
The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.
Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyungâs shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.
Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.
Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.
You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.
Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongiâs mouth doesnât form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didnât happen.Â
He doesnât speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation youâre being watched follows.
You donât get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.
Yoongi didnât give you an extra book today.
An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe youâd been too forward with your choice. Maybe heâs gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because itâs the second time youâve brushed him off. Even if it wasnât your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.Â
But he isnât speaking to you and he isnât giving you the random book youâve come to look forward to every morning.Â
Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.
Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book youâve never seen before sits on top of the open one youâd been reading.
Thereâs a Boy in the Girlsâ Bathroom.Â
A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: âon the seventh floorâ.
You hadnât been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until youâre opening the bathroom door.
âYoongi?âÂ
A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize itâs Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.
âJesus, you scared me.âÂ
âSorry,â he breathes. âItâs just not a good look for me to be up here.â
âOh, really?â You smile. âAnd why is that?â
âThis is my job.â
âDidnât seem to stop you before.â
âWho says itâs stopping me now?â
He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. âI swear I donât usually do this.â
You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they donât, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.Â
A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. Youâre sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongiâs attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.
âCould have fooled me.â
âThis is a very nice dress.â His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.
âThatâs all it takes?â you pant from the wet of his tongue. âA pretty dress?â
âIf you think,â he whispers into your ear. âIâm doing this because of your dress then you really havenât been paying attention.â
The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.
âHow long? How long have you wanted this?â
Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. âSince you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.â
You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyungâs loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.
The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.
âThat was months ago.â
âIâm a patient guy.â
You want him naked; ache to catalog what heâs hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.
Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. âThereâs a Boy in the Girlsâ Bathroom? A little on the nose, donât you think?â
âLike The Stocking was Hung is any better?â Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.
âHey!â you object, rising to face him. âI thought youâd appreciate it after that mothman book.â
âI appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.â
Yoongi doesnât let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. Heâs got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.Â
He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.Â
You donât suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.Â
He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.
His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. âTaste better than I imagined.â
âYou thought about this?â
âCouldnât stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.â Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. âIn my car, my bed. Everywhere.â
A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. âIs this all you think about?â
âI had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldnât stop thinking about your hands.â
Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. âYoongi.â
Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.Â
The first prod of fingers makes Yoongiâs hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.
âA-ah,â you shake. âPlease.â
Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.Â
He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.Â
Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if itâs between getting caught and having him stop then youâll deal with the consequences when they come.
âOh, Yoongi.â Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. âIâmâ oh, oh, oh!â
The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.
Heâs quick on his feet. Youâre still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.
But itâs not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. âFuck me.â
Yoongi doesnât tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you donât even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.
Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.
Yoongi isnât gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.
âGod,â he grunts. âYouâre incredible.â
You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until heâs scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.Â
Itâs Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine youâve quickly become obsessed with.
âShould have done this sooner,â your back arches and Yoongiâs mouth slips back down.Â
âI tried. But you kept ignoring me.â
âI wasnâtâfuckâignoring you.â Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. âShit.â
He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know youâll come.
You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. Itâs easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.Â
âOh my god,â you whisper as the cord tightens.Â
Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongiâs hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.
Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.Â
There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you canât be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.Â
You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.Â
Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.
He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesnât complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.Â
With a kiss to your temple, âLet's get out of here.â
âMorning, Yoongi.â You smile as you walk up to his desk.
A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. âGood morning.â
Jungkook gawks like heâs never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if itâs a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.
Or maybe because youâre wearing one of Yoongiâs shirts.
You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. Heâd taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.Â
After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.Â
He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.
Youâd only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.Â
You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. Itâs not that you donât trust Yoongi. But now that youâve had a taste, youâre addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately canât follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.Â
âOne of my books is missing,â you say.
âOh, right.â
Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.
Maybe He Just Likes You
And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. âDinner when you're done?â
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#kvanity#ksmutsociety#yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi angst#min yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#ð«¡ highvern
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ð¥ðšð¬ð ðŠð² ðð«ðððð¡ | art donaldson
summary â .ïŸâªâª Ë in which you and art can't seem to keep your hands to yourself after your first victorious win in weeks.
warnings â .ïŸâªâª Ë MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex (please stay safe y'all), art references to being turned on by watching reader play tennis, power dynamics?, switch!reader, switch!art, semi-public!sex, praise kink, hair pulling, oral (fem!receiving), obsessive!art (he is literally obsessed with the reader omg), p in v sex, art and reader almost get caught lmao, lmk if i missed anything!
word count â .ïŸâªâª Ë 3.1k +
pairing â .ïŸâªâª Ë standford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader
PART 2 OF LOOSEN UP!
authorâs note â .ïŸâªâª Ë if you haven't read part one, please do so before reading this! also i am a firm believer in art giving you aftercare after sex, no matter where it is in case you couldn't tell ;) i kinda rushed the ending sorry i just wanted to get it out in time :/ hope you enjoy!
publishing date â .ïŸâªâª Ë may 17th, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY
A breathy groan escaped your lips as your racket smacked the tennis ball across the net, your final attempt at winning points in the match. You intensively watched your opponentâsome hot-shot blonde from North Carolinaâas she darted to hit the ball back to you. Your breath hitched as you saw her ankle roll from the impact, making her legs give out beneath her and ultimately miss the ball.
The air was knocked out of your lungs as the ball bounced out of the court. The game was yours.
"Game, (L/N)," the announcer sounds over the PA system, cheers erupting from the stands. Your eyes searched for Art, before seeing him standing on the sideline clapping his hands proudly with a smile.
Ever since his visit to your apartment, the two of you had been inseparable. Your preceding professional relationship had blossomed into a personal one within the blink of an eye, and your once light-hearted repartee had become rather flirty and intense.
He couldn't seem to keep his hands off of you, and you couldn't seem to ignore how much you loved it. Whether it be at his place, in the locker rooms, or even on the fucking tennis court (it was late at night and dark, and of course, art had been adamant to make sure everyone had gone home before he proposed the idea.)
You were addicted to each other. Drunk on each other's touch, and you never wanted to get sober.
"You did great out there. Congratulations," his lush voice cuts into the sporadic ringing in your ears when you finally make your way over to him, your chest still buzzing after your win as the two of you walk off the court.
Your heart was beating out of your chest, and not just because Art's hand didn't leave the small of your back until you were out of everyone's view and walked down the somewhat empty hallway of the athletic center.
"You think so?" you pondered lightly, still trying to catch your breath as you caught his eye. You recognized the look on his face; it was one you had grown to know all too well. The way his lips parted slightly, and his eyes seemed to darken as they drank in your elated state.
It was a look of lust.
"Oh, I know so," he corrected you, his voice low. His arm snaked around your waist as the two of you came to a stop outside the women's bathroom, your chest flush against his as he pulled you into him.
"I couldn't take my eyes off of you," he admitted. "The way you lose yourself when you're out on that court, it's mesmerizing."
His gaze trailed from your face to your chest to your ass, drinking in your appearance. He had always loved the skirt you had decided to wear for today's match; just a simple, white tennis skirt that seemed to be just a little bit shorter than the rest and hugged you in all the right places.
"Oh yeah?" you tested, a small smirk tugging at your lips. A giggle escaped your lips as his hand ran down your hip before settling on your ass, giving it a good squeeze as he leaned into you.
"Yeah," he whispered against your lips, before pulling you in for a hungry kiss by the back of your neck with his free hand. You let out an excited moan from the back of your throat the second you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, completely enveloping himself in you.
"Fuck, you're killing me, sweetheart," he muttered to you once he finally pulled away, grasping your arm and pulling you into the women's bathroom behind him. Thankfully, there was nobody in there, or else it would've made for a very awkward conversation.
"You wanna do this now? Here?" you ask unsteadily as the two of you stumble over to the sink, looking around at the highly impractical place he had chosen to hook up with you.
"You did so well today," he told you sweetly. "You deserve a reward, baby."
The spot between your legs dampened at his words, your thighs rubbing together as he pushed you up against the sink with his hips, searching for any sort of relief.
"Yeah?" your worries washed away. You decided to have a little fun with this.
"You wanna be my trophy, baby?" you played lightly, running your hands through his hair. A slight gasp escaped your throat as you felt his erection press against your thigh, a dazed grin on his face.
"Always," he growled in your ear, his nose nuzzling the soft skin of your neck as he left sloppy open-mouthed kisses along the side of your jaw.
Carefully, his hands ran up and under the hem of your skirt, caressing the softness of your thighs before he hooked his fingers on your panties and tugged them down in one swift movement. A smirk cracked across his face as he tucked them into the back pocket of his shorts, the pale lace hanging out messily.
A surge of excitement ran through your veins as your eyes fell on the unlocked bathroom door. Anyone could walk in on the two of you and see just how well your tennis coach really treats you.
The mere thought itself drove you wild.
Quickly, he set you up on the sink and nudged your knees apart, giving him the perfect view of your soaked core as he sunk to his knees to be level with your lower half.
His eyes poured into yours as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, grasping your thighs firmly to keep them in place. The mere sight of him before you made a shaky whimper blow past your lips, your fingers moving to brush the stray strands of hair that hung over his light eyes.
"So, so pretty," you whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips met your soft skin.
He pressed wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, slowly making his way to where he wanted you most. You shuddered deeply when you felt his tongue finally lay flat against your wet core, his nose budding against your clit as he delved into you as if you were his last meal.
"Oh my g-god," you whined, digging your heel into the muscle of his back, his grip on your thigh tight enough to leave a mark. He held you in place as you squirmed around at his touch. You simply couldn't keep still as his lips sucked at your wetness, his tongue lapping at you mercilessly.
A groan reverberated in his chest when your legs tightened around his head, your ankles interlocking and pulling him closer to you.
"Please," you whimpered, the vibrations of his low moans stimulating your core. Your eyes peered down as his hand moved to the crotch of his shorts, palming the erection he had gotten from the sweet taste of you.
It no doubt sent you over the edge, a moan falling from your lips as you watched him pleasure himself. You couldn't take it anymore; you needed to feel him.
"Art," you breathed, pulling him away from your core. His head lulled back lazily, his pretty eyes meeting yours as a dazed smirk bloomed across his lips. His chin was glistening with your slick. "Please fuck me."
He didn't hesitate to stand to his feet, his lips smashing against yours exasperatingly. Despite how much he loved pleasuring you with his tongue, you didn't need to tell him twice.
You could taste yourself on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth, moaning against your lips. His behavior was obsessive, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you as close to him as possible as his clothed hard-on rutted against your bare core.
"See you what you do to me?" he whispered to you with a sigh, bringing your hand to the front of his shorts to feel him. You couldn't help but moan, taking it upon yourself to dip your fingers into his waistband and grasping him.
"It's a good thing I know how to control myself when you're the court," he laughed lightly. "Otherwise we'd have a real problem."
You nodded as you gently pumped him, excited at the thought of Art getting a boner while he watched you play. "Yeah? Do you like watching me play, Coach?"
He groaned into your neck at the nickname as you continued to jack him off, his balls stiff and his tip reddened. You were being such a tease and he hated it.
"I like watching you win," he suddenly pulled you off the counter and spun you around, bending your body over the sink.
"And you're a winner, right baby?" lips brushed against your ear as he caged you between his body and the counter. You could feel his dick pressed against your ass, eager to feel you.
"Yes," you whined, white-knuckling the counter as you could feel him moving around behind you, running his tip along your wet slit.
"Yes, what?" he was having fun with you now.
"Yes, Coach," you groaned, meeting his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were dark, and you could've sworn you saw a mischievous smirk flash across his face before he pushed himself into you swiftly.
His hips stuttered at the sound of the moan that fell from your lips, his grip on your hips tightening mercilessly.
You whimpered pathetically as he bottomed out inside of you, his pelvis bone flushed with the round of your ass. You stretched around him sweetly, watching his face contort in the mirror with pleasure.
"God, you're so tight," he breathed out, but his tone was almost desperate. His hips slowly began to move, which you were thankful for. The sweet burn of his cock sliding in and out of you was something you had only dreamed of, especially after the night at your apartment.
His free hand moved from its spot on your hip and reached around you to squeeze your right breast, his large and veiny hand cupping it perfectly. You couldn't help but moan at the dense feeling as it heightened your pleasure, your core clenching around him subconsciously.
"Feels so good," you mumbled as his hand moved from your chest to your hair, his slender fingers combing through it before giving it a harsh tug, the force pulling your back to his chest roughly.
"That's it, baby," he groaned in your ear, not letting up on his rhythmic thrusts up into you. "You can take it."
He watched you through the mirror as your eyes rolled back, his grip on your hair still tight enough to hold you in place against his chest. He took the opportunity to attack your neck with kisses, trailing from the spot right beneath your jaw down to your exposed collarbone.
His lips sent you into a frenzy, the sensation making the familiar coil in your stomach tighten as it mixed with the pleasure between your legs. You wouldn't last much longer at this rate, and Art could feel you coming undone with each thrust.
"Gonna come for me, baby?" he cooed gently to you as he met your gaze, holding it intensely as you nodded lazily. He wasn't far off either, so he quickened his pace to bring the both of you to your climaxes.
"So good," was all you were able to say, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a chant as he panted behind you from his relentless momentum.
Before you knew it, warmth spread throughout your lower belly as he pulled your orgasm out of you with a helpless cry, your head lulling back against his chest as your muscles tensed. An unsteady groan ripped from his chest as he sighed into your hair, his eye screwing shut as his release washed over him as well.
A string of incoherent pleas fell from your mouths simultaneously, the both of you in utter awe of one another. It took a moment for both of you to come back down from your highs, speechless from what had just unexpectedly unfolded in the women's bathroom.
Art helped you look presentable again after he tucked himself away, moving the stray hairs from your face and slipping your underwear back up your smooth legs for you. You watched him with a smile, elated at the way his hands lingered on your hips as he flattened your skirt down.
"Good as new, sweetheart," he placed a kiss to your temple as the two of you moved to walk out the door until it swung open.
You were met with a disgruntled old lady as the two of you stood awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom, unsure of what to say.
Oh shit, you thought. You would guess Art was thinking the same thing based on the deer-in-headlights look that he had on his face.
"Excuse me," she brushed past the both of you with a confused look, before disappearing into one of the stalls. She wanted no business with whatever she had just walked in on.
You looked at Art, finding it hard to hold back the laugh that bubbled up from your chest.
"Let's get out of here before we traumatize more little old ladies..."
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small favours
â joel miller x fem!reader
â warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts
â a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and itâs literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah⊠i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and itâs finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.
You hadnât asked for much.
It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you donât know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, itâs just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?
Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know theyâd all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.
It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jacksonâs walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasnât safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, theyâd get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.
It wasnât that you werenât likedâ you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didnât see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.
All that anti social behaviour certainly didnât win you any favours thoughâ hence the still broken door. You loved itâ you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so⊠win-win.
There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasnât so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, thatâs the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable providedâ that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days heâd come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then youâd fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.
Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and youâd work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joelâs low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldnât deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.
âHey, you stillâ damn. What happened here?â Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because itâs his voice calling you do you look up.
âItâs been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, butâŠâ You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. âI guess they had other shit to do. I canât move it on my own.â
Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.
âSo you were planninâ on sitting in here all night?â The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. âYou gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?â
âOkay, it was a dumb plan. But, itâs that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.â He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.
âYou take him, Iâll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.â Before you can protest or tell him he doesnât have to, heâs walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.
Youâd always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. Itâs far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just⊠peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.
You lead Joelâs horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like himâ quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking itâs demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.
âSaved you your favourite spot.â You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so wellâ at least, he was definitely older than most. âSee? Heâs right up there.â
The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joelâs porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know itâs there. You donât come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you canât help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardyâ you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.
When you find your way back to the front, Joelâs footsteps are trudging back down the hill. Youâll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you canât seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but thatâs mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.
âYou donât have to, Joel. Really, Iâm sure someoneâllââ
âNo, they wonât. Knowinâ the people around here, youâll be sleepinâ on the floor till next year.â He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.
In a few passing thoughts youâd never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just soâŠcapable. He could do so many things so easilyâ and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.
âWhat happened?â He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.
âI have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but itâs soââ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesnât even look like he tried. ââheavy.â
âCome âere and hold it straight.â He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. âI wonât let it fall. Come on.â
âLike this?â You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.
âPerfect.â He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.
âYou really didnât have to do this, but thank-you.â Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.
âLeast I can do. Everyone should be up here helpinâ you anyways.â He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. âKeep holding it still.â
âYeah.â You manage, eyes fluttering closed. âPeople help, though.â
âOh, I bet.â He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.
âThey do! Sometimes⊠I mean, itâs not their fault. Iâm kind of a hermit up here. I donât really make an effort, so I canât blame them.â He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.
âYouâve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. Theyâd die out there without âem. Carl doesnât know his left from rightâ he got lost eight times last patrol. Itâs cause of your horses he got back safe.â Joelâs face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. âDoesnât matter if you ainât makinâ friends. This ainât middle school, and people should be helpinâ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.â
âThatâs why I keep you around, Joel.â You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.
âGood. You tell me next time, and Iâll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.â You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. âHow do you know so much about horses?â
âI lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, theyâre easy to navigate once you get to know them.â Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you canât help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. Itâs not even scarred yet, still fresh
âYou okay?â He says softly, tilting his head.
âYour face.â His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. âSorry. You⊠did something happen on patrol? You have a cutââ
âJust a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldnât handle.â The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. âGood as new.â
âYou should clean it.â You say, worry edging in your voice. âIf it was clickers.â
âIâm fine.â He shrugs it off.
âCome on. Itâs the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.â He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. âSit. Iâll get the kit.â
âYes, maâam.â You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. âWhy you got a first aid kit in here anyways?â
âYouâre using it now, arenât you?â You turn around, raising your eyebrows. âYouâd be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. Itâs not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.â
âAnd none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?â He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.
He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.
Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesnât flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.
âDoes it hurt?â You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.
âNo.â He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like heâs straining to keep himself still. âTold you it was fine.â
âAnd I told you I wanted to help.â When youâre satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. âYou might need stitches. Itâs deep.â
âGo on.â He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.
âYou want me to stitch your face together?â
âGood practise, and I trust you.â The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.
âIf I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.â When you find what youâre looking for, you straighten, Joelâs face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isnât lost on him either. Itâs probably the most emotive youâve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard heâs biting down.
âItâs already messed up. Youâre fine.â He manages, his voice strained.
âHold still.â Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and itâs when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.
âSorry. Shitââ
âItâs fine. Are you okay?â He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. âYour face isnât messed up.â
âHuh?â
âItâs not. Messed up.â You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. âThere. Youâre pretty again.â
Your breathing was rapid even though you didnât have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His handsâ strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.
The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joelâs hair. Itâs never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.
âJoel.â You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you werenât so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.
âThank you, darlinâ.â You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why heâs so easy to fall into. You donât even really notice how dark itâs gottenâ you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joelâs here, and with him this close, you canât think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.
âCan I kiss you?â He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.
âOnly if you hurry up.â You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.
Itâs anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesnât take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.
You let him inâ youâd let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when youâve been starved of something for this long it doesnât matter what he does itâs just that heâs giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.
You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.
âFuck, darlinâ. Come closer.â He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then itâs wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. âYeah. Right here.â
Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. Thereâs something equally hard and soft about his handsâ rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how theyâre careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.
At some point you have to breathâ both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling tooâ like actually smiling, not that half smirk youâve seen so often.
âWhat are we doinâ?â He laughs, kissing you again.
âI donât know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesnât smell like horse shit?â You whisper and he laughs again. Itâs sounds so goodâ like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. âPlease, Joel. I really wantâŠâ
âTell me, baby.â He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly⊠âFuck knows I wanna hear you say it.â
âYou. I really want you.â He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, thereâs only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joelâsâ two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.
For the first time since youâd been here, you really donât care if people are looking at you, or what theyâre saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often heâll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.
He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porchâ one youâve spent way too much time staring at from afar, youâre both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. Youâve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.
âLet me take this off.â He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. âGod damn gorgeous.â
âYour turn.â The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. âJoel.â
âNothinâ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.â As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.
âPlease take your fucking shirt off.â You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. Heâs clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.
âOr what? You gonna make me stop?â He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. âNah, you wonât make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, donât you?â
âBut I wantââ
âShh, shh. Iâll give you what you want.â His mouth his dizzyingâ words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. âThere you go, darlinâ. Feels good?â
âGodâ yeah, faster. Please.â Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. âFuck, Joel!â
âI know, baby.â He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it buildingâ pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joelâs unrelenting grip.
He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.
Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have thatâ to see skin youâve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.
He doesnât help youâ too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark thatâs lighting you up inside.
âShirt, Joel.â You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesnât give you the time to admire him that youâd like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.
âPerfect.â He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.
It doesnât take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like heâs fucking hungry for itâ pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.
Thereâs no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undoneâ a sight you wouldnât be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldnât be able to hold out under him much longer.
âJoel. Joelâ fuck.â His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. âOh, godââ
He doesnât say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.
You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.
âYouâre so soft.â He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for himâ draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. âSo fucking soft. Sweet.â
âYou like that?â You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. âI can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.â
âWhatever you want. Fuckâ anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.â A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but youâll settle for giving him just one.
He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be⊠he was big. It made senseâ he was a big guy, but it wasnât just that. He was just⊠perfect.
âEyes on me.â He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. âI want to see your face when IâŠâ
He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.
He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel fullâ the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, itâs the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.
âFuck, baby. Feel so good around me.â Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like itâs a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. âNeeded to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, arenât you?â
âYes, Joel. Please, I needâ need you to move.â You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that youâve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.
âGood girl.â He groans, and then picks up the pace.
Itâs devastating. Itâs the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you arenât entirely sure he didnât just create himself. Like heâs forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesnât seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.
You are incoherentâ overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesnât fucking shut upâ and itâs about the hottest thing youâve ever experienced.
âSo fucking tight around me.â
âGod, you feel good.â
âYou are so beautiful.â
âGonna fuck you for days.â Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. âOh, fuck thatâs it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christââ
âJoel.â You can only whisper nowâ voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.
The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.
He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.
âWhatâs so funny?â He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.
âJust happy. Can I be happy?â Itâs meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.
âYeah. Yeah, you can be.â He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. âI am.â
You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, youâd be able to see the stable from here, but itâs black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joelâs safe arms, thereâs nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel killer x y/n#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x reader
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hiii, could you write something about Tom meeting his celebrity crush ( he also maybe said it in an interview) at the Museum Gala? She is a big actress ( maybe did house of the dragon or something). She thinks he is super hot and she has seen the new hunger games movie, so she kinda flirts with him because she knows she is his celebrity crush and he is a nervous wreck. Eventually they start going out and end up dating! Just something about another British Tom manifesting his life LMAO
could you also add some insta posts ? I love this kinda of au! I hope you like this idea
lots of ð t!
And They Meet || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
A/n: love love this request ty anon ð
Warnings: none!
Wc: 1,232
Dividers by @pommecita
âDo you have a celebrity crush?â The question caught Tom by surprise as he chuckles, his fingertips tapping on his chin. âI do actually, uh Y/n Y/l/n.â He admits for the first time on camera.
âI watched House of the Dragon the moment it came out and I just fell in love with how she portrayed Alicent Hightower, truly one of the greatest actresses at such a young age,â He smiles like a mad man as he recalls the time he first saw her on screen.
The gorgeous green coloured dress you would wear looked heavenly, and of course, your impeccable acting drew his attention. He binge watched the first season over and over, a smile adorning his lips everytime you would bless his screen with your beauty.
âHave you met her Tom? Sheâs a lovely person in real life.â The brunette sighs, âUnfortunately I have not, soon hopefully, soon,â He crosses his fingers as he lets out a low chuckle before moving on.
~
You watch with a grin on your face the interview that mentioned you. After Tom revealed that you were infact, his celebrity crush, you couldnât help but feel like a giddy high school girl.
The thought that the Tom Blyth took a fancy towards you was mind blowing, especially since youâve watched him from afar and admired him for quite some time now. You remember you first saw him on Billy the Kid and thought he was exceptional, and quite attractive.
âYou think he would be at the museum gala next month?â You lift your head to Ally, your manager as she thinks. âMost likely, whyâs that?â She smirks at you as you roll your eyes jokingly. âNothing, nothing, just wondering,â You put your hands up in defence.
âOkay you have 10 minutes left,â Ally looks at her watch. You were at The Kelly Clarkson Show about to be interviewed about the upcoming season of the House of the Dragon.
~
âY/n, do you have a type? If so, I think your fans would like to know, donât you?â Kelly winks to the crowd as they erupt into laughter, including yourself. âPhysical wise? Most definitely tall, brunette, blue eyes, a nice smile-â âThat sounds a whole lot familiar to a guest I just had a couple days agoâŠ.â Kelly teases as your eyes widen.
âReally?â A nervous chuckle leaves your lips, âYeah, a Mr Tom Blyth happens to fit that description. I also know he mentioned you as his celebrity crush just the other day,â You play with the ring on your finger as you look at Kelly as if it was new news to you.
âDid he really?â You couldnât help the smile off your face, âI watched the movie the day it came out and I understand the girlies who were rooting for Coryo,â You fan yourself jokingly, âtruly understand.â The crowd cheers as you laugh. âI mean, Iâm willing to ignore the red flags because heâs just so incredibly good looking!â You were lowkey fangirling.
âI know right!â Kelly agrees, âTom did such a fantastic job playing young Snow, he really charmed us all,â You grin.
~
âDo you think sheâs going to be at the gala?â Tom lifts his head up, the interview of you at The Kelly Clarkson Show displayed on his phone. âShe should be,â His manager says as he smiles to himself, his eyes redirecting to his phone as you continue to talk about House of The Dragon.
Truth be told, after her let the entire world know that your his celebrity crush, he had been basking in the many comments saying how good the two of you would look together. It boosted his ego for sure.
He was hoping heâd finally be able to see you tonight at the museum gala and feed fans content. The second Tom set foot the gala, his eyes wandered around, hoping to see a glimpse of you. "Are you looking for someone Tom?" An interviewer calls out as he chuckles whilst posing for the photographers. "Yes actually," He responds with a shy smile.
Then, he hears loud screaming coming from the entrance as everyone in the gala turns their head towards the noise. And in you walked. Tom was standing in the red carpet section along with other celebrities as you walk towards his way, waving at the cameras along the way.
You wore a beautiful black gown, your hair in curls as the cascade down your back. Tom didn't even realise but he was staring at you, his mouth slightly agape, entranced by your beauty.
Cameras take photos and videos of Tom's reaction to you, it was quite cute. A man who finally got to see his celebrity crush in front of his eyes. Little did he know, you were looking around, hoping to find him.
Your eyes look around the place before you spot Tom, a few metres away from you as your eyes lit up. Abandoning your spot where you were posing for the cameras, you picked up the fabrics of your dress with the help of your assistants and made your way over to him.
It took a few seconds for Tom to realise that you were walking towards his direction. "Tom!" You greet him, going in for a hug as if you had known each other for years. He was slightly taken back but nonetheless hugs you respectfully. "How are you, darling?" He says as you pull back.
The pet name making you blush as you grin at him. You always knew Tom's eyes were blue, but jesus, you didn't realise just exactly how blue they are from up close. "I'm great now that I've finally met you," You chuckle, your hand gripping his bicep as he bites his lip lightly, smiling at you.
"Your eyes are really blue," You blurt out as he laughs, "I get that a lot," "Y/n! Tom! Can we get a picture of the two of you please?" Paparazzi calls out as you and Tom make eye contact, not realising how close your faces were before quickly looking away shyly.
"May I?" He says to you, asking if he could put his hand on your waist. What a gentleman. "Of course," You grin at him as he snakes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip as your arm wraps around his waist.
The two of you looked good, good together. Throughout the night, you and Tom couldn't get away from each other. He was always by your side, even when you were doing interviews, and vice versa. His hand would rest on the small of your back protectively as you two navigated your way around.
Even at the dinner, he was coincidentally seated beside you which made you happy. You even recorded a video for your Instagram story about it and tagged him. The two of you hit it off straight away, exchanging numbers and even planning to meet up in a couple of days.
Being each other's celebrity crush blossomed into even more. Tom asked you to be his girlfriend after a few weeks of seeing each other and fans were going crazy, saying how he manifested it. You and Tom as a couple received so much support from everyone, including those in the acting industry saying how much of a talented young couple you were.
#fanfiction#tom blyth#tomblythfluff#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth x actress!reader#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#tom blyth x you#social media#social media au
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#WIP ⢠THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ËË ì¬ì¬ì€ ⚟ ë°ì¢
ì± âžÂ part two of the playerâs game seriesâplaylist & series tag
the death of your grandma has you returning back to your motherâs seaside hometownâthe same town you left jake in a year agoâfor good. now that youâre back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesnât help that now youâre caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.
pairing ââžâžâž sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader ðµ iηcâudᥱs ð cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jakeâs ex)
genreï¹ðï¹âžâžâž exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance
warnings ââžâžâž if you didnât like reader in the first part then you wonât like her in this one, readerâs grandma passing and mentions of readerâs dad passing, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, arguing, semi-public sex, size training, corruption kink full smut tags in actual post . . . !
kipoâs note ââžâžâž this was a long time coming lmao iâm so so sorry to everyone who has been waiting (ââžâïŒ) with my month long break and adjusting to writing again iâm finally ready to start working on this series again! this is my main priority so i will try to get it out as soon as i possibly can!! this post will be updated as i work on it! ^^ all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! â¡
release date âžâžâž sept 20th, 2024 â progress updates here!
â¿ [ teaser wc: 0.7k ] â¿ [ current wc: 26.1k ] â [ continue to . . . wips , masterlist ]
send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!
⢠READ HERE!
your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your motherâs seaside hometownâyour new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you werenât able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.
you never thought youâd be back here, never thought that youâd ever say goodbye to your own hometownâwhich was also your late fatherâsâbut here you were.
when your mom told you that youâd be moving here permanently you didnât know how to feel. one one hand, you understood your momâs decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything mustâve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.
it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didnât think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still havenât answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.
but you also couldnât help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldnât help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think youâre finally ready to face him again.
to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that heâd keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.
and if he didnât protect your heart, youâd pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.
ây/n? are you listening?â you heard your motherâs voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.
you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your auntâs house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.
âmhm,â you mumbled, though you definitely werenât listening.
your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. âis it that boy from last summer?â what was his name? jacob?â
âjake,â jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.
your mom snapped her fingers. âjake! thatâs it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! thereâs more wonderful people here than just jake.â she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.
it wasnât âjust jakeâ that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didnât want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.
getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.
jakeâs letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you mustâve read it a million times over now and still you could barely wrap your head around it.
âtwo people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, iâll wait for you.â
it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that youâre back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.
you: meet me at our spot.
⢠READ HERE!
taglist 1ï¹ OPEN! ï¹âžâžâž click here for series taglist! ð·ïž @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @un06 @nenesz @branchrkive @dreamiestay @lilyuwon @ghstzzn @kaykay11sworld @kirinaa08 @cherlv @zl-world @cloud-lyy @sunpov @samouryed @immelissaaa @y4wnjunz @who-tf-soddhi @minaateez @jajenoric @lilactangerine @chaconadine @americanojake @in-somnias-world @bobaikeu @cupidscourt @inkigayocamman @nctsshoes2 @helenngxz @jakeswifez @usnve @tasnim10 @deobitifull @won4me @zeeloveshee
send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!
â¿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , wips , taglist ] all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! â¡
© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
#ï¹ðï¹jjunieworldâs â© wips ð¯#tpg series#jake x reader#jake smut#jay x reader#jay smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#kpop x reader#kpop smut#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#jake sim#sim jake#jay park#park jongseong#sim jaeyun#jongseong x reader#park jongseong x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#enhypen headcanons#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshot#enhypen drabble#jake sim smut#jay park smut#enhypen hard hours
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game changer
MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader
summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dadâs friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (readerâs age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50âs), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joelâs dirty talk, one use of âgood girl,â one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk
word count: 9.1k (Iâm sorry)
a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldnât be here without yâall - you donât know how much you babes mean to me & I canât thank yâall enoughâŠnow to you, if youâre reading this too I also canât thank you enough â¡
You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dadâs oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.
Now you stand before Joel Millerâs face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.
Itâs a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.
Home from your first grad school semester, you didnât think youâd be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didnât care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.
Now youâre here.
âYesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, thatâs where we can check in.â Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.
The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until youâre deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.
The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and itâs like nothing youâve ever seen.
The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.
Tommyâs married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joelâs daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.
You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.
âJoelâs glad yâall were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.â Tommy explains.
âYeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.â You mom teases, but itâs warm.
Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.
Youâre grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.
You knew your dadâs friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your momâs job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.
Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like youâve slipped into another reality.
Then Joelâs entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.
âAll of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.â Your dad explains.
The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joelâs cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.
You understand why.
A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.
Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, heâs older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.
Heâs handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.
Itâs like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality heâs a man, a full grown and incredible man.
And he really is incredible.
Even though heâs older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.
Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes canât help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.
Heâs gorgeous.
But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dadâs friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.
So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.
At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. Heâs surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.
After that the Rangers switch pitchers.
As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joelâs exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.
Itâs admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joelâs roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.
Joelâs eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like heâs trying to recognize you.
Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.
You weakly grin back. Itâs all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.
The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.
âGuess the game made you a fan huh?â You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.
You shrug easily with an eased grin.
After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.
You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You havenât brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.
Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joelâs instagram page. It seems very professional, like itâs run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.
Youâre not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.
Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see whoâs at the door.
No way.
Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player youâre reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, youâre given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.
Heâs knockout beautiful.
Of course, youâre still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like youâve left bed.
He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.
âAre you going for like a Clark Kent thing?â You blurt before you can stop yourself.
Joelâs face scrunches up as he sighs.
âGotta take a break from my contacts sâall.â He admits with a grumpy reply.
But itâs his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.
âHow do they even let you pitch?â You lightly tease, and
Joel rolls his eyes.
âGood to see ya too.â He rumbles, finally greeting you.
Now realizing heâs still standing in your doorway, you let him in.
Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.
Youâre the one early thanking him.
âThe tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.â You add sincerely.
âOh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.â Joel nods.
âSo they let you just roam around?â You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.
Joel scoffs. âAinât gotta be at the stadium till later.â
âSo, was uhâŠsurprised to see ya at the game.â His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.
Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.
âSoâŠback from school, huh.â That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks howâs it going and what youâre doing.
For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guyâŠ
Just your dadâs pal.
The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.
You explain school is going good and how youâre here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.
Politely he asks what youâre going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes youâre taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.
Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.
âYouâre damn smart.â He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.
âHavenât read a book since⊠shit canât even remember when.â Joel muses.
âWhat? They donât have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?â You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.
However his lips twitch faintly, like heâs fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.
âThough, Iâve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.â You add.
From the clips youâve seen and the comments youâve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.
âOh?â Joelâs eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.
âSuddenly youâre a sports analyst now, huh?â The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.
âYâgonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.â Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.
But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.
Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.
âYouâre fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.â You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering youâre a grown adult. Even if youâre in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.
With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.
Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.
âThereâs another game tonight. Wanna go?â She offers.
You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows youâve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.
With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.
Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel âCowboyâ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.
Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.
You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.
This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.
The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isnât pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.
Until youâre invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.
Your dad casually mentions Joelâs house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.
Though gorgeously grand, itâs still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.
You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.
Joelâs eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.
Thereâs more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.
The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like itâs underwater.
Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.
So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. Itâs honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms youâve imagined.
There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.
His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.
But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarahâs work.
âIf youâre thinkinâ about stealinâ somethinâ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.â
Joelâs drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.
âNah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.â You shrug playful, knowing now heâs gone to the Series but never won.
Joel makes a low hissing sound like heâs injured.
âDamn, yâhit low.â He chuckles low.
You grin triumphantly.
âDonât worry. Youâll get a ring someday.â You say simply.
âSound sure about that.â He replies.
âCause itâs true.â You nod. âYouâre pretty great.â
Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, itâs easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasnât let it go to his head. Heâs anchored by his loved ones, and itâs admirable. You even tell him that.
âIâŠthanks.â He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.
âWhat game has been your favorite?â You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.
His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.
Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.
âOne of the first games the girls gotta go to.â He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.
âOne of the best games I ever played.â He adds gently.
He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.
âAnd you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple âitâs goodâ crap.â The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.
So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.
Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.
He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.
The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.
Even if Joel isnât pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. Youâre however surprised to find Joel is starting.
Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.
Your heart doesnât rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.
The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.
Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.
The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.
âYou should get one!â Your mom urges.
Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.
On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like heâs a hero in an old cowboy movie.
Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message ânow you just gotta work on that slider pitch.â
You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.
When you get home, you see the message has been read.
But also, a new profile has followed you.
JM_8712
The profile also sent you a message.
JM_8712: ainât nothing wrong with my slider
No way.
This canât be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly canât be the real Joel Miller because he doesnât seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.
JM_8712: think ur so funny huh
The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.
Then another message flies in.
JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?
It feels like one of Joelâs changeup pitches knocks you out.
Because itâs really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarahâs accounts among those profiles.
Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joelâs personal private account.
Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.
The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.
Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.
You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that youâre sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.
For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.
One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages donât send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.
âTheyâre gonna reschedule the game. Stormâs not letting up.â Your dad comments glumly.
You just hope Joel is alright.
Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.
Joel.
JM_8712: sorry connections shit
Then he simply sends you his phone number.
You wonder if youâre seeing things.
Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if heâs alright.
When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.
Yeah im good thanks
Then another message follows. Itâs a photo from the locker, bags packed like heâs ready to leave.
Looks like room service for tonight
Itâs Joel. Youâre texting Joel right now.
It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.
Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.
You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. Heâs got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing youâre getting to know the man on the mound.
The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.
The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.
You think at first it must be one of your parents.
But instead itâs Joel.
You scramble to answer.
âHey,â his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.
âYâdoinâ alright?â Joel asks hesitant.
That catches you off guard.
âOh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, whatâs up?â You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.
Joel sighs.
âSorry I justâŠyour last text uh, it just got me worried.â
Now youâre really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.
Sighing, you apologize that you didnât even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.
But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.
âOkay yeah,â Joel says a bit clumsily. âIâllâŠlet you go.â
âNo, itâs okay.â You quickly reassure him. âHowâs the traveling going?â
âGood, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.â
âPlease tell me it was Field of Dreams.â You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.
On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.
âFunny.â His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.
âWas some new movie Sarah told me to watch butâŠfell asleep.â Joel admits low.
Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.
Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more nowâŠ
Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.
Itâs dangerous falling deeper like this.
Especially now in a blink you realize youâve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.
âShit sorry.â He realizes it when he sees the time. âYâshouldâve told me to fuck off. Donât gotta waste your time talkinâ to some old ass like me.â
He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.
âTrust me⊠Iâm glad I get to talk to you.â You truthfully tell him.
âYouâre the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.â You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.
âLike watching Field of Dreams.â You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.
Joel snorts.
âDefinitely would rather chat with you than watch that.â Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.
âIâm flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.â You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.
Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. Itâs confirmed when he sighs.
âGonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?â He asks.
âI did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.â You smile to yourself.
âDonât mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.â Joel replies and his words make you melt.
You say his name quick.
âCan you just⊠Text me when you make it to the hotel?â Just to know heâs safe. Itâs simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.
A moment passes.
âYeah, will do.â Joel agrees.
He doesnât text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.
âSaw a full on fuckinâ fight at the airport when we landed.â Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.
A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.
And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.
The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saintâs patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.
Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.
While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, itâs steady now - like youâre slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.
You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.
During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.
You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.
But the alcohol burns in you. Once youâre back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.
Itâs a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.
Thereâs a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically heâs training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.
Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.
But not as hot as the sounds he makes.
The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights⊠they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.
Youâve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.
But itâs so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.
Imagining Joelâs sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.
The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.
Joel of course had messaged you.
Looks like you had fun last night
So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.
But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You donât want to feel guilty. You reason thereâs probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.
So much that you donât even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. Heâs the one that eventually calls you.
âYâgo out on a date or somethinâ?â Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.
âOh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.â
âOh.â He replies quick. âWell, looked like fun.â
You agree and thank him.
âBut yeah, no dates for me.â You weakly laugh.
âYeah? Any reason why?â Joel presses.
Because youâre partially head over heels for him, but you canât admit that yet.
âNo oneâs asked me recently thatâs all.â You reply simply. Youâve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.
Joel snorts. âPretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.â
His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.
âTrust me, itâs real.â You dryly reply.
âAnd you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?â You teasingly ask.
Youâve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.
Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.
âNo, none of that.â He answers.
âAinât not time for that orâŠmainlyâŠhavenât found anyone whoâs got the patience for me.â
Your heart sinks.
âWait, what do you mean?â You quietly press.
He sighs.
âMâ older, a single dad. My schedule ainât perfect. And those that have tried to uh⊠pursue something havenât always had the best intentions.â
His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.
A grim cloud seems to settle above you.
âYouâre a great guy Joel, an incredible one.â You earnestly tell him. âThose who canât see it donât deserve you.â
âAnd I have to say it butâŠyouâre a real catch.â You go for the obvious baseball pun.
Joelâs chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.
âThat was bad.â You can almost picture him shaking his head. âBut thanksâŠsame uh, same goes for you. Youâre smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see youâre worth it.â
Youâre drowning in his words. They feel too much.
He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and youâre thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like itâs getting too much, yet not enough.
Joelâs compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like youâre stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.
Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.
Classes kick up and the workload piles on. Youâre exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and donât even call him back.
The days blur together.
Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.
hope youâre alright
You want to cradle that message.
When you call Joel, itâs like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.
âSo uhâŠâ Joel begins cautiously, and youâve never heard him this nervous almost. âWeâll be heading your way into town soon.â
Thatâs right.
Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.
âHope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.â Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.
The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But theyâre a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.
He texts back immediately.
Donât worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know youâre with me. Got it covered
That might be one of the hottest things youâve ever read.
Game day canât approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.
âYou should try to go!â Your dad urges, eager.
A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. Youâve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.
You take a small comfort in that.
When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldnât make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, youâre slightly okay with being here by yourself.
At the ticket window, you nervously say that youâre here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.
Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.
Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you canât help but feel stranded in the stadium.
âYou okay, sweetie?â A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.
âYou lost?â The younger woman asks sympathetically.
It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.
âAw look at that! Youâre sitting close to us! Come on, weâll show ya around!â She beams warmly.
âWait, are you sure?â You ask worried.
âOh of course,â the younger woman reassures you with a smile. âThe stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.â
She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.
You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.
Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.
Youâre stunned in shock yet again.
Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you youâll be fine sitting with them.
Itâs beautiful and comforting.
âSo, who are you here for?â Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. âThese seats are for friends and family, and I havenât seen you around before.â
But then she quickly reassures you donât have to explain if you don't want to.
You with a weak laugh youâre here to see Joel, adding that heâs a family friend. Her eyes go wide.
âOh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!â She says excitedly.
Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.
Donât know if Iâm gonna get put in but just in case
Even if he didnât, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.
With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.
Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.
In fact he doesnât show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.
The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.
It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you canât explain.
You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.
Two strikeouts back to back.
Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.
âCowboy Miller in his golden age.â Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.
You donât fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.
âItâs rare that a moreâŠseasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,â your new friend Casey explains. âBut itâs hard to see why not. Everyoneâs been saying like heâs almost found a new groove and still has so much power.â
Heâs a force youâre terribly in awe of.
Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.
Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.
He did amazing.
Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesnât search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.
But itâs still a sweet victory.
You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. Youâre about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.
âSweetie? Arenât ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?â She asks with warm curious sweetness.
You canât say no.
The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. Thereâs a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. Youâre surprised at how many others wait here.
The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. Youâre hilariously reminded of a class being let out.
Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.
Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.
Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.
The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, youâre embracing him.
It happens so naturally you donât even realize what you did until you blink and itâs like youâve been thrown into cold water.
Panicking, youâre about to pull away until Joelâs arms slowly wrap around you.
âGood to see ya too.â He says low gruff but youâre taken out by the knees grateful your body doesnât give out.
He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and itâs wonderful.
Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.
Itâs been so long since youâve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.
âAlright, dinner?â Someone says, and when you turn, youâre stunned to see itâs the team manager.
Guess this means youâll be saying goodbye.
âHeadinâ home?â Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.
âUh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didnât wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.â You joke, and Joel snorts.
âLet me take ya back then.â He offers, and you almost drop your phone.
You scramble out reassuring Joel itâs fine.
âBesides, donât you have dinner to go to?â And where would he even get a car to take you.
âSâfine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.â He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.
Because of course they do.
Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that youâre going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.
You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.
âWish you could come to dinner!â Casey frowns.
âMaybe next time.â Her mother in law says bright.
Next time.
âYes hope to see you at more games.â Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.
With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.
You havenât turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like youâre hyper aware of being watched.
âDid you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.â One of them whispers.
âSheâs not even that pretty.â Another one giggles.
âOh then you know heâs maybe just using her then! And if thatâs the case then good for Joel.â The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.
Joel returns, keys in his hand. âReady to go?â
You weakly grin back.
You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.
You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.
Joel however is surprisingly talkative.
âSo youâll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.â His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like heâs happy being here.
And it kills you.
âYâseem quiet, you okay?â He notices it of course, ever aware.
âYeah, just a bit tired. Didnât know the game would take that much outta me.â You lie.
Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.
âYour place is nice.â Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.
You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.
âYou sure youâre okay?â He asks again.
You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.
You refuse to cry about this, donât want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.
âJoelâŠâ you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.
âYeah?â His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.
âWhatâŠwhat is this? What are we?â You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.
Joelâs eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.
âJustâŠgood friends.â He replies simply, almost cold. âJust showing my palâs daughter a nice night.â
There it is.
Your soul deflates. So all the times youâve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.
So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.
âThanks again, Joel.â You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.
He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.
âWhy? Why dâya ask that?â He asks, pressing firm and hard.
You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.
âIt doesnât matter.â You answer.
âThe fuck does that mean?â He snaps a bit sharp.
âIt means what it means.â You fire back.
âBullshit. Why did you ask that?â Joel growls out firmer.
âEven if I told you, it doesnât matter.â You repeat.
âStop sounding like a fuckinâ owl.â His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.
It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.
You blink back tears, and immediately Joelâs face falls.
âHoney, Iâm sorry-â
Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.
Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.
âNot when youâre this upset.â He urges.
Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joelâs eyes go cloudy.
âIâm realizingâŠIâll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?â Your voice is waterlogged and you canât fight it.
âYou are.â He states simple and straightforward.
You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.
âCanât be anythinâ more than that.â Joel adds through mutter.
âWhy?â You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartmentâs hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.
His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you
âDonât act dumb, sweetheart.â His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.
Youâre not and you tell him that.
âIâŠâ the words youâve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.
âIâd give anything to be yours, Joel.â You croak barely realizing you even said that.
He inhales, and his face goes taunt.
You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.
Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.
Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.
The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.
âMy roommateâs visiting familyâŠâ you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.
âJust you and me.â You whisper soft.
Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.
âThought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.â He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.
âFucked my fist that first night you went swimminâ at mâhouse.â Joelâs words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.
âMe too.â You admit through a whimper. âTouched myself thinking of you.â
Joel freezes.
âTell me,â he says rather calmly, deadly almost.
Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.
Your lips and eyes shut close.
Then Joelâs warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.
âCome on, honey,â his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. âTell me, please.â
You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.
He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.
âPromise, Iâll be okay.â Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.
So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.
He groans.
âBaby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.â Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and youâre worried until his lips smash into yours.
He devours you.
Youâre swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joelâs while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.
âThatâs my girl. Knew youâd be mâgood girl.â He says almost drunk and youâre done for.
You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you donât want to.
Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.
In the aftermath, youâre left basking in Joelâs warmth and never want to leave.
Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.
Youâre thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.
âJoel.â
He hums a gruff gentle noise that says heâs listening.
âI donâtâŠâ you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You donât want him to think youâre simply using him for his status or money.
âJoel⊠you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and Iâd still always want you the way I want you.â Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.
You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.
You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.
Joel sighs.
âYâshouldnât.â His voice is a hollow rumble. âIâm old, friends with your dad. We shouldnât be doinâ this.â
Now a bitter venom spills in you.
You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up
âI'm an adult, Joel. And if thatâs all youâre worried about then sorry itâs a shit reason.â You launch back.
Over his shoulder he glares at you.
âIfâŠâ you swallow hard. âIf youâre the one who wants to leave, because iâm that young, or you really don't want this or donât feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.â
âBut I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.â You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.
Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.
âDidnât wanna want you the way I do. Youâre so bright, fuckingâ smart and so gâdamn gorgeous.â He softly admits.
A pause settles between him and you.
âYâcould be with someone younger, less complicated.â Joel admits low.
âDonât want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.â You reassure with a soft steady mutter.
He goes quiet again.
âUsed to not get bothered when I started leavinâ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startinâ to have their own livesâŠI didnât mind doing this alone.â
Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.
âBut thenâŠthese past few monthsâŠand now today seeing ya waitinâ for meâŠâ he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he canât free them yet
Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.
The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.
He doesnât need to say anything else. You donât think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, itâs effortless moving towards him. Joelâs warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.
Even after spending the night, youâre surprised Joel hasnât left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.
âYou have another game today, Cowboy.â You comment.
The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.
âGot today off to rest, ya little shit.â Itâs affectionate. âBesides my back ainât what it use to be and after goinâ more rounds with ya this morning-â
In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.
The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy youâve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isnât MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.
Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.
When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and donât care. Youâre here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.
But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.
While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joelâs back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.
Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.
Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.
He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.
âHm?â You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.
âDonât want ya to think iâm ever using you, honey. Youâre not just some young thing keepinâ me company.â
His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.
Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.
But the next morning arrives.
âGonna come to our last game here?â Joel asks while he packs up.
âDonât know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.â You say with a shrug.
His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.
You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesnât play, but you donât mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.
âText ya when we get to the airport.â Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.
That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.
#again I blame baseball season and the recent dodgers game so here we are lol#but seriously thank you so much if you take the time to read me and pitcher Joel think youâre a home run#pitcher!Joel Miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#baseball player!joel#joel miller fic#pedrostories#Joel ð€
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whole new can of worms
joel miller x f!reader
rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. iâm working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut Iâve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.
âPlay that one I like.â
Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.
He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.
âGet your feet off the table,â Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. âAnimal.â
Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didnât really mind. Â Â
Both of you had endured a long fucking day.
Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you werenât complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyoneâs plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.
Theyâd scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you werenât afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldnât duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.
When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadnât been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that youâd stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. Youâd had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.
When all was said and done, youâd trudged through the downpour to Joelâs house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that heâd spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.
Heâd opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.
âWhiskey?â heâd asked.
You nodded. âWhiskey.â
And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.
As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.
âSo beautiful,â you murmured. âWish I could play.â
âAnd then what use would I be?â he chuckled. âCanât have you learning guitar; Iâd have no one to play for anymore.â
You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadnât wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. Heâd always loved playing for her.
âGood thing Iâm lazy then,â you mused softly. âSwear I couldnât play an instrument with a gun to my head. Iâll need to keep you around.â
âWorks for me,â he said, refilling both your glasses. âYou on the patrol roster tomorrow?â
You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. âNope, Iâm a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.â
âGod damn,â he rolled his eyes. âGonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.â
âDevastating,â you grinned. âIâm way better company.â
âToo right,â Joel agreed. âWhatâs your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?â
Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.
âYeah,â you replied. âProbably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?â
You hoped he didnât see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before youâd been struck by the realisation that you hadnât had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately youâd found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.
Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.
Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?
With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it wouldâve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.
âItâs the cold,â he noticed your stare. âMakes my knee ache.â
You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.
âWhatâs up your ass?â Joel asked.
âHuh?â your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.
âYouâre frowninâ,â he said. âGone all quiet suddenly.â
âSo are you,â you huffed defensively, face warming. âYou always fucking frown, I canât do it one time?â
âNo,â he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. âI frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethinâ else out.â Â
You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.
âSeriously,â he pushed. âWhatâs wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.â
âNo,â you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. âItâs good out here, I like it. Iâm just⊠distracted, I donât know.â
âWhatâs on your mind?â he sipped his whiskey.
Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. âWhenâs the last time you had sex?â
A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. âChrist, what?â
âIâm not,â your cheeks were on fire. âIâm not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.â
He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.
You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, youâd fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didnât impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.
âI almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,â you continued plainly. âShe was late for patrol, so I went over to see if sheâd slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.â
Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure âYou⊠listened?â
âDonât look at me like that,â you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. âJust for a fucking second. Hadnât realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldnât move.â
âI see.â
âYou better not tell a soul about this,â you pointed at him threateningly. âIâll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.â
âI believe you,â he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. âMy lips are sealed.â
You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasnât going to be as awkward about it as youâd first feared.
âHow long has it been?â
Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. âLike, six months or something.â
Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. âYou poor soul.â
âOh, come off it,â you scoffed in disbelief. âDonât tell me youâre having sex and Iâm not? This just keeps getting worse.â
âFuck you,â he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. âWould it be such a surprise if I was?â
âSâjust bullshit,â you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them. Â
âIâm not,â is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. âHavinâ sex,â he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."
You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. âWell thank god Iâm not the only one.â
âDonât know when I would,â he shrugged simply. âAnd who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckinâ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or Iâm sleepinâ, or Iâm with you.â
The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Donât think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.
Admittedly, it was something youâd thought about once or twice when youâd first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But youâd fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.
You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that youâd never realised looked quite so⊠plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldnât stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.
âFuck,â you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.
âHey,â he said softly, assuming you were upset. âSomeoneâll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethinâ.â
You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. âWhatâs that look?â he asked, eyebrows pinching together.
Jesus, here goes nothing.
âWhat if we fucked?â
Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.
âWhat?â he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.
âI mean,â you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. âYou said it yourself, weâre so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or weâre hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just⊠blew off a little steam together?â
His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasnât often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face. Â
âYou want to blow off steam⊠with me?â he pointed lamely at his chest.
âDonât sound so incredulous,â you joked. âYouâre a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.â
âShut up,â he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. âDonât want to hear that shit.â
âIt wouldnât mean anything, Joel,â you reassured, veering back on topic. âWe could just⊠help each other wind down after a long day.â
You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that youâd upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.
As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.
âIt wouldnât mean anything?â he clarified. âThis wonât affect our friendship.â
You shook your head quickly. âNothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.â
With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. âAlright then.â Â Â
Youâd been in Joelâs room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after heâd accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.
Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.
âIf you donât want to, we can just forget I ever sai-â
âJust taking your fuckinâ clothes off,â he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.
âJesus,â you breathed. âRomance isnât dead.â
He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.
You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasnât a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.
Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.
âHey,â you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. âItâs just me. Let me help you relax, okay?â
His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didnât dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.
With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldnât see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.
You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didnât. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joelâs cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.
A shaky breath escaped from his nose.
âIs this okay?â you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. âWhy donât you sit on the bed?â
Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.
âYouâre so handsome,â you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. âIâve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.â
He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another momentâs hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.
Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.
âStop teasinâ,â he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.
âSorry,â you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone youâd been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.
And finally, finally, he made a sound.
âFuuuck,â he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath heâd been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. âChrist, feels so fuckinâ good.â
Seemingly against his will, Joelâs hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.
âYouâre drivinâ me insane,â he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. âSo fuckinâ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckinâ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. Iâm a fuckinâ idiot.â
Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, youâd never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didnât stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.
âTakinâ me so well,â his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. âGod, Iâm in your fuckinâ throat, baby.â The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers. Â
âShit,â he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. âAre you fucki-â
You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.
âStop,â he ordered, saying your name firmly. âI- Stop, Iâm gonna come.â You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.
You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.
âJesus, donât fuckinâ look at me like that,â he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. âGet up.â
Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than youâd anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, youâd never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.
And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.
âSo fuckinâ wet already,â he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. âDid you get this turned on just from havinâ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?â Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.
âYes,â you breathed. âWanted you to finish in my mouth.â
He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.
âMaybe later,â his voice was strained. âNeed to see you come first.â
He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. Youâd forgotten how good it felt to have someone elseâs hands on you.
Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didnât go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.
Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, âI want to taste you.â
You didnât say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.
âNeed to hear you say it,â he encouraged. âTell me what you want.â
âPlease,â you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. âI want you to taste me.â A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.
âLike this?â he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.
âPlease,â you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. âNeed your mouth on me, your tongue, I-â
âOkay,â he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. âThatâs all I wanted to hear.â
He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.
His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.
It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.
âTaste so fuckinâ good,â he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.
You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if youâd forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.
He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.
âJoel,â you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. âOh fuck, Joel, Iâm gonna come.â
His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.
âFuck,â he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.
âSo good,â you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath. Â
âAlmost came all over the sheets,â he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you. Â
âShit,â he groused. âSorry, bad fuckinâ knee. Youâve got me all bent out of shape.â
You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. âLetâs not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?â He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.
His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.
âYou want it like this?â he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.
You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldnât see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.
Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.
âYou ready?â he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.
âJoel,â you said in a dangerously low tone. âIf youâve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.â Â
He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. âYes, maâam.â
He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.
âFuck,â you choked out. âJoel, youâre huge.â Â
He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. âYouâre takinâ it so well though,â he gritted out. âSo tight around me, grippinâ me so good.â Â Â
He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.
Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.
âFuckinâ,â he moaned. âYouâre so good, beinâ so fuckinâ good for me, arenât you darlinâ?â
You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace heâd set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.
âJ-Joel,â you sobbed. âOh my fucking god, I-â He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didnât even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didnât let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each otherâs lips. Â
âCâmon,â he grunted into your mouth. âGive me another one.â His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.
âShit,â you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.
âSay my name,â his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.
âSorry,â he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.
âFor what?â you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. âWhatâs wrong?â
âCame on you,â he clarified. âShouldâve asked first.â
A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. âEver the gentleman,â you chuckled. âItâs fine Joel, it was hot.â
His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. âIt was,â he agreed quietly.
For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joelâs eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.
âIâm gonna shower, and then hit the road,â you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. âIâll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommyâs?â
He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. âYeah,â he drawled. âDinner at Maria and Tommyâs.â His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.
âKeep them big guy,â you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.
You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.
âHey Joel,â you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. âBetween us, right? Probably best if we donât tell anyone else this happened.â
He nodded once, smiling lazily. âBetween us.â
part two
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fwb joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#my writing#cat's outta the bag#don't cry over spilt milk#whole new can of worms
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Hii I was wondering if you would write for TASM peter. Also would you write the smut ABC's for any characters because I haven't seen one for him and I'd love to see it (specifically from nwh for this)
PETER PARKER X MALE READER
This is my first time ever writing one of these!! Uhm so Iâm still struggling with my mental health and stuff but I promised that Iâll be back before the 23rd so here I am!
A = Aftercare (what theyâre like after sex)
Very shocked but like in the goofy awkward way. He likes to cuddle and hold you close while smiling ear to ear. He likes to tell you his favorite things you did.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partnerâs)
He likes his hands, to hold and grip you close and close with him. He likes your arms the way you hold him tightly and he likes seeing your arms flex, also your back.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes facials, both receiving and giving them. Heâs let you shoot your cum on his face and especially when he wears his glasses.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wouldnât mind doing it somewhere publicly but safe. Like in the bathroom stall during school or alone at night in the park.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what theyâre doing?)
None, the only experience he has was watching porn. Lmao.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary or mating press, anything that you two are close enough to make eye contact and to kiss.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
At first when you two just start out having sex heâll let out nervous chuckles. But as you two get closer heâll crack a joke here and there while moaning.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Heâs not that wildly bushy but he is hairy, but itâs neat and sometimes trimmed. But on some occasion yes he is bushy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Completely focused on you like heâs in a trance, nothing else crosses his mind only you. He wants to see you and be close with you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He jerks off pretty often, whenever you two are alone but too tired to have sex youâll two will jerk one another off, maybe edging to.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He loves roleplaying, you or him could wear his Spider-Man suit while the other would be a fan or villain. Or other roleplays like jock and nerd.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His or your room, or the living room on the couch. He can get off doing literally anywhere so
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Hearing you say his name, hearing his name roll off your tongue, heâll already be ready for the next round it doesnât matter whoâs the top.
N = No (something they wouldnât do, turn offs)
Someone watching or like being cucked. He would literally crash out because he thinks the thought of s someone watching is embarrassing but someone actually wanting to have sex with you makes him wanna commit.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves giving head, heâll be under the table or blanket sucking you off until your dick literally canât cum anynore.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the moment, when you two both are okay and happy he would fuck you or take it in a fast but deep pace but when you two arenât okay he likes to take it slow as deep but very gentle.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He actually likes quickies, he would try to get off as fast as he could. You two probably do it moe often then most would.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Heâs willingly to take risk and try out new things no matter how confusing or scary itâll be. He has an âYou only live onceâ type of mindset.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Four maybe six, he can take a lot even if your extremely rough with him. But after a long and hard rough day of hero work maybe only one round.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He owns rope and such, itâs for either of you two be tied up he doesnât really care. Sometimes heâd use his web slinger to tie you up onto something so itâs sturdy.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to tease, heâll give you flirty signals and winks and make innocent things like drinking water seem dirty.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Heâs pretty loud, he whines and moans while he gasps a lot.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Whenever heâs super exhausted he would cockwarm you, you could softly thrust into him or not and just hold and cuddle him.
X = X-ray (letâs see whatâs going on under those clothes)
Heâs one of those skinny guys with a expressive dick. Heâs about 5â4 inches when heâs soft and an solid 8 in when heâs hard. Heâs an real grower.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Heâs very horny, heâs not a pervert or anything but when your in the mood heâll be in the mood to. Heâs buzzing with easy arousal.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It takes him a while to fall asleep because heâs just yapping about how much he likes having sex with you and such but when you two are finally getting quiet heâll drift to sleep in your arms.
THE END
#x male reader#male reader#male reader insert#x male y/n#amab reader#x top male reader#x gn reader#x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter Parker x male reader#spiderman x male reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman#tasm!peter x reader#tasm peter parker#marvel x male reader#marvel x reader#the bear club
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e.9 w/ regulus pls, i'm on my knees ð
this is technically a steamy prompt, but gosh this grew real sugary sweet really fast lmao. hope you enjoy the drabble, love<3
Prompt: E.9 "Use your words, sweetheart"
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: implied smut (mdni), not proofread, loads of cursing, talks of sex, background dorlene and rosekiller, established relationship, slight implied d/s dynamic where reader is d, regulus is a Quidditch Player⢠but also easy to fluster, marlene is not a quidditch player in this (blasphemy, i know), gn!reader
Note: i could make a part 2 with actual smut, but this is what came to me rn
Perhaps your favourite part of your boyfriend is how multifaceted he is.
Because when you first met him, in all his moody brooding, repressed emotions, dry sarcasm and school-orientation, you never could have imagined how fervent Regulus Black could get about quidditch. The same Regulus who rolled his eyes painfully hard at his brother and friends's jock habits, as he referred to them as, the same Regulus who polished his Head Boy pin multiple times a day. Somehow, it was the same Regulus you saw run into a slam-hug with Barty on the field once they landed, with wild eyes and tousled hair after catching the snitch that just barely secured Slytherinâs victory against Gryffindor.
âBloody fucking yes!â You could hear the boysâ exclamations clutter against each other in the air as they hollered their celebrations.Â
A wide grin was glued onto your lips as you cheered and clapped with the crowds surrounding you in the stands. Marleneâs voice was bursting your eardrums as she cheered specifically only for Dorcas while grumbling over Gryffindorâs defeat â a complicated day for the blonde.
On the field, Regulus turned from his friends to scour through the stands before his eyes found yours and somehow he smiled wider. Your heart soared every time you saw his carefully crafted mask slip to reveal true enjoyment. His smile grew cheeky as he blew you a kiss with a flourish you knew he would never let fly so publicly had it not been for the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
âBreaking from Slytherinâs passionate celebrations, Regulus Black is taking the opportunity to show his wonderful partner some love.â Pandoraâs soft voice booms through the amplification spell as she wraps up her commentary for the game. You grow bashful in your cheering, especially when Marlene elbows you with her wolfish grin, but you donât cease your clapping â and you donât break eye contact with Regulus as he walks backwards towards the locker rooms, only tearing away when he has to.
The team are some of the last people to enter the Slytherin common room for the rager that always follows matches with Gryffindor. This time, it was put together by a few fifth years who seemed to consider them their personal heroes â you had overseen some of the decorations just to ensure there were no pictures of Evan with hearts drawn around them, lest Barty get murderous in his partying.Â
They were a sight as they walked in with their wet hair from showering and still that crackling atmosphere of sheer joy and perhaps a twinge of earned arrogance.
Dorcas is the one who announces their entrance. âWe won, bitches!â
The room erupts into cheers as Marlene runs to lift her girl up, twirling her around as they giggle through kisses. You would have smiled at them in admiration for longer, had your own attention not been reserved for a certain set of black curls.
Regulus is at the very back of the group, just behind Evan who had Barty all but draped over his shoulders, a small smile seemingly etched onto his lips. You were torn between petrifying his face so it could never move from that beautiful expression, and hiding it from the world with an array of kisses. You had a feeling he was partial towards the latter.Â
âNice of you to finally show up at your own party, love,â you say cheekily, as he greets you with a murmured amour before pulling you into his arms for a tight hug.
He smells like his soap and cologne, having cleaned himself up as attentively as he always did. Maybe someday you could convince him to sit in the sweat for a bit, reeling in the victory.
âThe hero who caught the snitch.â Your voice is low and teasing, only really intended for Regulus as your arms around his neck.
Barty is never one to miss something though, head picking up from his huddle with a maniacal grin. âHells yeah,â he yells, cutting through the lively chatter of the room. âReggie, our hero!â
Everyone erupts into cheers, hoots and whistles â definitely not for the last time of the evening â as Regulus bashfully hides his face in your neck, still not broken away from your embrace. You giggle into his ear, clearly pleased with the teasing attention he receives, to which he pinches your side. When you yelp and swat at him, he comes out of his hiding with a smile that he finally presses to yours.
His kiss receives some more hollers, but they are nothing but murmurs to you as his soft lips mould to your own. You deepen the kiss, trying to get impossibly closer as your blood warms. Youâre sure he can feel it emanate through your clothes pressed to his or your palms in his hair.
âHi,â he whispers when you pull back, foreheads pressed against each other.
âHi there, seeker. Ready to go celebrate your acts of valour?â
His eyes remain trained on your lips as you speak, which only makes your smile more teasing. He doesnât answer you right away, holding you close by the small of your back as the party picks up around you.Â
âOr did you have something else in mind, player?â You cock an eyebrow at him.
He realises you have read him like the books you bond over, and gives you a few rapid pecks to make up for it. âYou know me too well,â he laughs.
âI think I know you the perfect amount.â
âThen you know the only one I want to celebrate with right now is you.â Regulusâs eyes are a beautiful mix of dark and soft as he stare at you, adrenaline seemingly ebbing out of him as he just melts into you and his prescribed lovesickness.
âSilly boy,â you whisper against his lips before giving him a slow, open-mouthed kiss where you tug his bottom lips between your own. âYou already have me.â
âYou know what I mean,â he all but whines back between kisses as you move to his upper lip.Â
âHm, maybe.â He recognises the glint in your eyes as you pull back to look at him. âUse your words, sweetheart.â
Almost all softness seep from his face as it takes on a hungry quality that his reserved for only when you use that tone.
âMinx,â is all he whispers before his hands slide to find yours, squeezing them as he begins to pull you through the crowd.
âOi, Black!â Dorcas yells as she sees your figures sneak your way between people with apparent haste. âThe fuck you think youâre goinâ?â Just from her voice you know Dorcas has had a drink, as her accent has thickened.Â
Before either of you can respond, Evan drags her down by the elbow to the sofa heâs sprawled across as he drawls, âTheyâre going to celebrate dearest Dorc.â
A spat ensues between the two at the use of her least favourite nickname. Regulus has the decency to grow slightly pinkish at that, but his hold on you remains close and you can all but feel his jitters through his touch.
Barty looks at you two upside down from where he lays balancing on top of the sofa. âYou nasty fucking pigs,â he grins. âEnjoy yourselves heartily, but get your butts down here to have fun with us too when the adrenaline wears off.â
You snort as Regulus only grows more red. You give Barty a wink as you begin leading the way, dragging your boy dumbly behind you. âWe will, Junior, donât you worry.â
âBye, Treasure!â Barty calls behind you as you run up the stairs towards the boys dormitory. Regulusâs hand is hot in yours and your stomach tingles in anticipation â but more importantly, your heart aches with pride and love for your hero seeker.
#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black smut#regulus black fluff#regulus black x reader smut#regulus black x reader fluff#regulus#regulus x reader#regulus x you#regulus x y/n#regulus fluff#regulus smut#regulus black self-insert#regulus black reader insert#marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#slytherin skittÞes#the slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles x y/n#slytherin skittles x you#slytherin skittles x reader#dorlene#bartylus#rosekiller
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Dates with Ateez
Pairing: Ot8!Ateez à Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reactions
Request: ateez and how/where they'd take you on a date
Warnings: mentions of food at Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Mingi's, Yeosang is an idol, some skinship at Mingi and Yunho's
A/n: idk why but for some reason I read the request as "first dates" instead of just "dates", so there are some mentions of first dates here and there lmao | daily click
Seonghwa - farmer's market
âhear me out!!
âthis one would be very spontaneous
âfirst of all he just wanted to cook something for you
âbut there are missing ingredients
âand yes, he could go to the supermarket but that's boring
âso!!
âhe calls you and you both go to your local farmer's market
âone thing that you thought was gonna be quick and mundane just became a whole activity
âmostly because of the cozy ambient and nice sellers, but especially because there was something so familiar and nice to have you by his side like that
âit was so domestic
âmade him feel like a happily married man
âso he makes a mental note to have more dates with you like this
âand he also takes you home to make the most delicious dish ever known to mankind
â(buys you fresh flowers from there)
Hongjoong - a walk around the city
âi think this one would be totally unplanned
âaccidental even
âlike, you guys were supposed to only have lunch and go back to your jobs
âbut no one actually wants to do that right
âso what starts with just a brunch turns into visiting every single store in the city very soon
âand it's always so nice every single time
âyou guys constantly discover new spots on town because of this random walks you go to
âand Hongjoong secretly loves it because even when he's alone, every single spot becomes a memory of you
âsoon enough the entire city is just something that is connected to you in every single way
âand he obviously wouldn't complain about that
âso it becomes a routine for him to just pick you up and adventure yourselves into new parts of the neighbourhood
Yunho - amusement park
âyou can't convince me that this isn't the most "yunho" thing ever
âhe would 100% take you on an amusement park
âit provides you both a lot of time together and it's fun
âand he's your laugh's biggest fan ever, so of course he needs you to smile
âcall it cliche but he would want to do the Ferris wheel kiss
ânot on your first date tho because he thought it'd be too much
âbut when you guys are already dating, he'd definitely do that
âit almost becomes a tradition
âat some point it's even funny because you'd look at a Ferris wheel and give each other knowing looks
âand you know when there are those roller coasters and you can take a picture during the rides?
âhe always keeps those
ânot matter how blurry, how ugly or how weird it came out
âhe has a whole album with pictures like that
Yeosang - picnic
âi feel like this would be more of a first date idea with him
âthat occasionally comes along every once in a while
âbut it's mostly about the first encounter
âa low-key secluded part in the park, preferably close to a river
âjust something very calm and peaceful
âwhere you could talk about everything and anything at once
âmaybe even play a game only the two of you
âidk it feels so ideal
âit's the peace he's been longing for and, considering his busy and hectic life as an idol, that's precisely what he needed
âoverall I think he would love dates that could provide him a bit of comfort
San - arcade
âthis would be so fun hear me out
âit doesn't matter if it's your first or 639274th date, he will try to impress you
âand he would probably succeed because he seems like the type of guy who can do everything
âwould win you plushies
âor any other type of prize you can possibly win at arcades
âand even though he's trying to impress you, there's still this playful competition between the two of you
âeven after years of dating it still feels like you both are just teenagers in love honestly
âeven a complete stranger would smile by seeing you both interacting in the arcade
âafter so many times going there, you guys must win some type of discount honestly
Mingi - movie night
âhere we're talking about a whole marathon of movies
âwith snacks and blankets for the two of you
âin the dorms (he would kick the boys out of there)
âand he would plan everything
âhe's actually quite proud of himself because he really thought of every single detail
âand the atmosphere is just so cozy
âbesides the movies are your favourites with his favourites and some that you both planned on watching together
âhe realised that one could figure out a lot about somebody by just watching their favourite movies
âanyways
âthe mood is super cool, you guys laughed a lot with your few comments in between scenes and you even cried together at some point
âand if you do end up sleeping on each other's shoulders, it's not like he'd complain about that
Wooyoung - escape room
âthis right here is the perfect formula for chaos
âjust the two of you running, screaming and laughing uncontrollably
âI can't think of something better than this
âand considering you are in a relationship with Wooyoung, chaos is much needed
âbesides you never know how it works with him
âsometimes he's working with you and then he's working against you
âwhatever the case is, you can bet it's gonna be fun
âand you are always 1000% sure this will be a day you'll remember fondly after a while
âeven if all he remembers is how you fell when trying to escape from one of the actors
Jongho - karaoke
âi'm almost sure I already wrote something like this
âand I'm so right for that ngl
âfirst, this is a fun date and not too cliche, but also not that odd
âsecondly, between songs you guys would be able to talk to each other and still have a nice activity to do afterwards
âand lastly, he could showcase his vocals and hopefully woo you over with his abilities
âso literally every single bit of it would be perfect
âmaybe just maybe, if he's feeling a bit too bold by the end of the session, he would serenade directly to you
âwith your favourite song perhaps
âor maybe that would need to wait until your next date
âbecause he is certainly hoping this will only be the first of many
Masterlist | you'll probably like: when they have a crush
Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | images 1, 2 and 3
#celi headcanons#ateez fluff#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez soft hours#ateez soft thoughts#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez#seonghwa#seonghwa fluff#hongjoong#hongjoong fluff#yunho#yunho fluff#yeosang#yeosang fluff#san#san fluff#mingi#mingi fluff#wooyoung#wooyoung fluff#jongho#jongho fluff
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sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.
and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...
SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*
Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO
Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK
Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("
SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-
Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao
Edit Update 4/6/23:
Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol
I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-
Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first
WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3
Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???
Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,Â
but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-
Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, sheâs beaming with a giddy little smile (ð)
Itâs⊠so much more than what her game model could manage.
I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-
It was justâŠwow. ð¥º
You canât help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway
She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.
After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,
Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,
âHzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!â *
âŠNahida begins to look a little concerned⊠her eyes get impossibly bigger.
âŠOh no.
â§
Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you canât understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!
Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya⊠but that knowledge still didnât prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. ð
Then heâd tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.
Then he would scribble for hours.
Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You canât even tell if there are multiple languages, thatâs how unrecognizable this language is, damn)
The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou
At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language
They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol
Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)
But even then not immediately,Â
Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform weâre still translating?
Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. Itâll appear on walls or structures, so like Andriusâ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)
Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!
Itâs like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today
âŠso of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because theyâre so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterpartsâŠ
â
Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,
or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,
your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue
So they know what you sound like, but that doesnât mean they understood your language :/
Nahida had been hoping that youâre actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier
But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats
âŠso needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.
You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldnât stick around
You figured they knew you werenât nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didnât have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps
You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when theyâre walking around with you⊠maybe youâre just imagining itâŠ)
And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnariâs face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city
âŠso why not go?
Itâs not like theyâre going to get it anytime soon, and itâs still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you canât even hear their guesses ð
You can totally handle being like the traveler too,Â
You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!
So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the travelerâs pack, the things like Primogems
(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)âšïž
And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you
So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurerâs Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with
Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, youâre off!
...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!
â
When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all ââšïžðâºïžâšïžâ on Tighnariâs doorstep-
He chokes on the tea heâd been sipping on before he opened the door lol
He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with âcalm yourself small animalâ energy with your hands
âTivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvobâŠâ he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants⊠ooooâŠso pretty...)Â
But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol
Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?
Sheâs quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,
His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, âGrtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-âÂ
Cyno stops and blinks.
Colleiâs mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.
You blink.Â
Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like heâd rather be done for the day, you think.
The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.
â
Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and theyâre so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,Â
As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch
But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.
Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnariâs face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face
The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same âchillll boyâ gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic
Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,
â...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?
Cynoâs voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine
âZiv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!â Colleiâs sweet voice is also hushed like sheâs witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,
âNzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvooâŠâ
Though heâs replying, Tighnariâs eyes havenât once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,
and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too
With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasnât attached to thatâŠ
Oh well, heâll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!
With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an âXâ button, and it retreats like a classic TV setðº turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands
You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ã)_/¯
And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after
You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesnât take long to summon his bow
He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away
You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)
The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-
and it fucking explodes.
Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.
The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-
You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)
Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno
Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Colleiâs jaw has dropped and sheâs just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow
âŠTighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You donât know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,
and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/
Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-
âBlf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."
⊠and you just ð? Cool!
And give a thumbs upðLMAO
â
Bonus:
Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didnât have time to translate that because you were gone.
Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-
Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol
Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao
(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc heâs never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)
â¡
ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!
Bro has anyone else had this problem???
I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!
FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- ð¹ð¹ UGH
ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVEDÂ
And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvatâs language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasnât sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if youâre interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) hereâs a hint:
*hint = Atbash
:> good luck!
Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then Iâll be homefreeeee ð
Safe Travels,
ðâ
â¡ the beloveds â¡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist
#fucking tumblr#ok its official we got beef#welp .-. watch out if i ever need to post a fic or smth Ill just link my ao3#on the masterpost pinned most likely#sorry btw this got AWAY from me ð#like idk? if i even?? answered ur question???#genshin impact#genshin sagau#ask box open#sagau#my asks#genshin imagines#gender neutral reader#genshin isekai#genshin impact self aware#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau language barrier au#genshin language barrier au#i should proobbaabbllyyy start tagging that huh#ugh i dont wanna go back to all my old asks/posts and tag it tho ð«#cipher encoded#encoded#language cipher
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Streamer Luck ð
Pairing: Wanderer x GN!Reader
Featuring: Wanderer (Genshin Impact)
Genre: Fluff, Modern AU
Summary: Streamer Wander drabbles lmao enjoy <33
Readerâs Pronouns: They/Them
Warning: wanderer (just brace yourself) bro is actually astronomically down bad, sorry id thereâs any spelling or grammar mistakes i am delirious rn
Disclaimer: â ïž ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!
i. âwym youâre not single and rotting in a basement?â
Wanderer has been playing for hours on end, you could barely keep up with it.
He hasnât come out of his room for hours and you were starting to get worried about his appetite, and his emotional well being.
Because you were such a good and doting partner, you decided to make Wandererâs fave dish, and deliver it to his room.
Knocking on his door, he lets out a brief hum, signaling that it was good to come in. Careful not to get to close to the camera, not wanting to reveal yourself to his audience just yet.
Chat noticed the presence of another person in the room, and immediately bombarding Wanderer with questions like âwho tf is that???â and âwhere did they spawn from???â
âDarling youâve been streaming for 6 hours, take a break and eat first okay? Just call me when you need anything else.â You state, trying to resist giving him a peck on the lips.
Your boyfriend pauses his game, looks at you, then chat, and decides to pull your waist to his level to give you not one peck, but multiple.
Taken aback but not at all surprised from your boyfriendâs sudden show of affection, you lean into the kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.
Chat absolutely EXPLODES when they saw that, but Wanderer did not give two shits, and decided to kiss your hand, while deeply looking into your eyes
âThanks Honey, Iâll take a break and eat this, thank you so much for looking out for me :)â
âNo problem darl, just come out when I call you for dinner okay?â âYes honeyâ And with that you leave the room, leaving Wanderer with him and his chat
He scans the messages, multiple times he sees âSO DOWN BAD LMAOOâ and âdid u kidnap them or something to take are of youâ
A little irked at chat, he angrily replies âNo I am NOT down bad (he is) and NO I did not kidnap them. Theyâre my partner. Why is that so hard to believe?â
ii. honey face reveal when?
Ever since youâve made your existence known to Wandererâs fan base theyâve been calling you Honey, mostly mocking him about the nickname he has for you. (they do find it cute tho fr)
They tell him to bring you into the stream more, saying that they missed your voice and your sweet personality, honestly they donât give a fuck about him no more they just wanna see you
Wanderer gets annoyed (again, this man is always mad at his chat somehow), and says that he canât force you to show yourself to them, which his chat respects.
âAlso their sweetness and cuteness is for me only, not my fault that you guys are lonely and donât have a partner. Imagine that, what a massive Lâ he says to his chat, and they start arguing with him again. (someone save his fan base)
iii. HONEY REVEALLL !!!!!
Seeing that your boyfriendâs fans really liked you, you decided to tell Wanderer that youâre finally comfortable with sharing your face to the internet, which he was really happy with. Because god he really wanted to show of the love of his life to the world, and smash it in their faces that only he could have you.
You suggest to him that you do a cute little baking stream together as your face reveal, and he couldnât deny the adorable smile on your face while suggesting it to him, so of course he obliged.
While he was setting up the cameras and you were setting up the ingredients you felt really nervous, thoughts of âwhat if they donât like me?â plagued your mind, and Wanderer sensed your uneasy demeanor. He came up to you and gave you a kiss that meant âdonât be nervous honey, iâll always be here for you.â
He turns the stream on and immediately people start to come in, surprised at the change of scenery.
âWanderer doesnât live in his basement confirmed?!?!â a TTS message read, and he gave the camera a glare
Chat immediately noticed you and started chanting âHONEY!â âOH MY GOD ITS HONEY FINALLYâ
You gave a meek wave to the camera, still a bit nervous, but with Wandererâs hand on your waist you knew you had nothing to worry about.
âHello everyone,,,,Iâm y/n, you probably know me as âhoneyâ and iâmâŠ..wandererâs partnerâ you say with small smile on your face, eyes turning into small slits
In conclusion, the stream was a success and chat was absolutely smitten with you.
bonus: iv. Honey takes over the channel ð±
Now that youâve gotten more comfortable showing yourself on stream, you sometimes played games with Wanderer too, like co-op in this game called Genshin or other games that allowed two person players.
Sometimes, you even started streams yourself whenever you wanted to share something to his audience, or get advice from them when you start a new game.
Wanderer of course sees these streams and he just has the lovey dovey-est smile in the world, you swear you saw his eyes turn into hearts.
Damn, his streamer luck is insane.
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin crack#genshin fluff#genshin modern au#scaramouche#wanderer#kunikuzushi#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin drabbles#genshin x you#genshin scenarios#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#genshin angst#genshin imagines
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cowboy like me â coriolanus snow
summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 2k
tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything
notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao
i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.
masterlists | read on ao3
A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.
He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own goodâ the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.
Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.
You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.
Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.
In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.
But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.
Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.
And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?
Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always cravedâ undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.
You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.
Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?
No, the past is gone. It already happened. Thereâs no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.
He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.
Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands youâ understands you like no one else has in your entire life.
It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.
If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.
It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...
Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.
He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?
The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because heâs a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people youâve ever met in your life. Heâs good, and brave, and passionateâŠenough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.
"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"
He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away.Â
"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?
In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.
The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.
When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do?Â
A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.
You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.
After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?
But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive.Â
With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew heâd be the guy youâd spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the worldâ he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.
The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.
He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.
There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracyâ a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken âthank youâ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.
He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes
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