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fallingformatt · 5 months ago

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SINCE WE’RE PLAYING GAMES M.S.

Matt x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you try to cheat your way to win a game of twister?

warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT! unprotected sex, slight bdsm.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: Yall are some freaky fucking fucks… over a thousand notes on my post? Yall are insane, im so thankful for yall dirty minded ass people. I truly did not expect that to happen on my second post ever. And thank you all for almost 300 followers yall are the GOATS!!!

Let me know if I should write a pt. 2 for FIRST GLANCE M.S. available here

post is not proofread

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I'm currently at the triplet's house. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful orange hue to the living room where we all are sitting, drinking some drinks, and just talking. The music in the background isn't loud but I can hear it clearly.

"I'm bored, let's do something fun," Matt says looking down into his half-empty cup. "Well I don't have any ideas," Chris shrugs his shoulders. "I have an amazing idea," Nick yells, startling me. "Nick, you scared me, I almost spilled my drink," I say out loudly slapping his shoulder. "Please ask me what my idea is, please, please, please," Nick tries to plead to make us ask him what his idea is.

"So what is ur 'amazing' idea?" I ask looking at him with a serious face. "We're all gonna play twister," Nick says ecstatically clapping his hands together like a kid. "No Nick, we are not playing twister, we're not five," Matt says annoyed. "Oh look I'm Matt, I'm so tuff and boring, I don't like to have fun," Nick mocks Matt, making me and Chris laugh.

"Well I don't know about y'all, but I'm tipsy, there's no way I could play twister right now," Matt says tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, his eyes from across the room to meet mine, sending butterflies to my stomach.

I've always had a little crush on Matt, but I never really did anything about it, because I didn't want to ruin the friendship between us. I mean yeah, sure I would sometimes tease him, wearing something revealing, making his eyes wander to places they shouldn't, for example, today, I was wearing short, low-waisted shorts and a small leopard print baby tee, but I knew that, me doing something with Matt would probably change the dynamics of the group as a whole, so I left it as is, hoping my crush on Matt would sooner or later die down.

"You're just scared that you'll lose, so I have a proposition, whoever loses takes a shot of vodka," Nick says proudly. "That's the dumbest thing I have heard in my life," Matt says crossing his arms. "Well, as far as I know, five-year-olds can't drink vodka, so who's the five-year-old now huh?" Nick defends his idea. "We all are a bit tipsy so the chances of you winning are fair, you're just a pussy," Nick says trying to provoke Matt. "Yeah Matt, don't be a pussy," Chris joins in. "Okay, that's it, we're playing, and I'm going to win," Matt says and smiles confidently. Nick claps his hands excitedly as he stands up and walks to the pile of board games that are stacked on a shelf above the TV.

"Found it! Y'all are going down, I hope y'all like the taste of losing, because y'all are gonna be licking the L's shortly," Nick says with a devious smile. "Okay, this one's clearly had more than enough to drink," Matt says as he facepalms.

Nick sets up the game, laying the playing pad down on the floor and placing the spinner next to the mat. "So, who wants to go first?" Nick says grinning. "I'll go," Chris answers and bends down to spin the indicator. "Right foot on red." He says out loud and steps on the playing mat. We all take our turns and the game is starting to get intense.

"Nick you are going to lose," Matt says his voice getting higher at the end of the sentence. The poses we are in are criminal. We are four, grown adults standing on this little mat, meant for children. At this point in the game, the slightest movement could make us all fall down. "Chris, you look like a deformed frog," I say as I'm laughing, almost snorting. Chris's right foot is still on red, his left foot is on blue, his right hand on blue, in front of his left leg, and his left hand is in front of his right leg. Nick is chilling in a comfortable position, meanwhile, I'm stretched out, so close to fall.

We all spin a few times. When all of a sudden Chris loses his balance and falls. "Hah, it wasn't even your turn, you're out, take a shot," Nick yells, happy that he's still in the game. "This is so annoying, 100 bucks on Nick falling next," Chris says as he takes a shot of vodka. I'm now in a compromising position, both of my hands are on red and my feet are on green and yellow, my position is leaving my ass high up in the air. Nick is now barely staying in the game.

"Nick it's your turn," Chris says out loudly, the alcohol he's had, making him unaware of the volume he's speaking in. Nick spins the spinner, "right hand green," Chris says. As Nick tried to move his hand, he lost his balance and fell. "Fuck," he yells out as he stands up. "Where my money at?" Chris says as he hands Nick a shot of vodka.

"Spin it," I say to Matt, and he does. "Left hand red," I say and Matt starts to move his left hand. Now both of his hands need to be on red and the only place in order for him not to fall is on either side of my hands. As he moves over me he brushes against my ass making me lose my balance slightly. Placing his hand next to mine, his head is now next to mine, "sorry," he says quietly, his hot breath brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

It's now my turn and if I don't think of something quickly, I'm going to lose. I look over my shoulder to see what Chris and Nick are doing, they are currently in the kitchen getting some drinks. My lips move making a small grin, this is perfect.

As I reach for the spinner, I pop up my ass, making it brush against Matt's crotch. "Right hand red, looks like I'm safe for now," I say as I turn to Matt, a smirk appearing on my lips.

After taking my turn, I move back, again brushing against his crotch, now feeling something hard. "Don't do that," Matt says in an almost moaning tone. "Do what?" I say looking at him. "Don't try to act all innocent," he says in a serious tone. "It's your turn," I say, a smile plastered on my face.

Matt takes his turn and spins the spinner, "left foot green," He says, looking at the spinner. As he tries to move, I once again pop up my ass, making him brush against it once again, the tension on his crotch getting too much for him, making him lose his balance and he falls. "Ha, I win," I say as I stand up clapping my hands together. Nick and Chris rush over to the living room.

"Did Matt lose?" Nick asks. "Yeah because she cheated," he says, anger and frustration can be heard in his voice. "What did I do, that counts as cheating?" I ask, raising one eyebrow, as a smirk creeps on my lips again, knowing he can't say anything without explaining him further. "Nothing," Matt murmurs. "What's that? I couldn't hear you," I tease him. "I said, nothing," Matt raises his voice, standing up and storming off to his room.

"I am too drunk for this," Chris says throwing up his hands as he turns around and heads to his room. "Can you help me clean this up?" I ask Nick, and he nods kneeling down.

We cleaned everything up and put the game back in its place. "You ready to head to bed?" Nick asks. "You go, I'm going to come later, I'm going to check on Matt," I say as I start walking to Matt's room. "Goodnight Nick," I say smiling. "Goodnight." He answers.

Without knocking I open the door to Matt's room. "Hey, you okay?" I ask as I look at him. He's sitting on the edge of his bed looking straight at me. "I was waiting for you to come in, want to play a game?" Matt says. "Sure, what game?" I ask unsure what game he had planned.

"Since we're playing games, let's play a game you can't cheat in," he says a smirk creeping on his lips. "Simon says, close the door," Matt says. Oh shit, we're already playing. I close the door not moving an inch. "Simon says turn around and lock the door," his voice getting deeper. I do as he says. "Simon says turn back around and stand in front of me," he says. As I turn around, about to walk in front of Matt, my eyes meet his, his eyes grow dark and his lips form a slight grin.

"Simon says strip," he says his tone getting even deeper, a hint of lust accompanying his voice. "What?" I ask, my voice slightly trembling. "You heard me, Simon says strip," he repeats. I start off by taking off my baby tee throwing it on the ground leaving my upper body fully naked. I slip out of my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles before stepping out of them. I pick up my head to look at Matt, he stares me up and down licking his lips.

He stands up and walks closer to me, his hands move my hair to one side of my shoulder, then proceeds to leave a wet kiss on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His hand reaches over my body, touching my neck as he stands behind me "Left hand red." He says as slides his hand down my neck stopping at my breast. He massages my boob, pulling on my nipple making me moan.

"You like that?" He whispers in my ear. I don't answer. "Simon says answer," Matt says as his other hand slides down into my panties, pressing his finger against my clit before rubbing circles, making me moan. "Yes Matt I like that," I say as I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder. He pulls out his hand, "Simon says turn around," Matt says and as soon as I do, he smashes his lips onto mine.

Matt wraps his hand around my waist taking small steps, leading us to his bed without breaking the kiss. I brush against his clothed cock, rubbing it slightly before I feel a slap on my hand making me break the kiss, I look up. "Nuh uh," Matt says shaking his finger, "Simon didn't say," he smirks and pulls his black t-shirt over his head throwing it to the ground next to my clothes.

He removes his belt, sliding it out of the belt loops of his oversized jean shorts, making them slide down a little, revealing the band of his boxers. He looks at me before moving his gaze to my hands.

"Simon says, extend your hands." His voice was demanding, I brought out my hands, and he grabbed them and put them together before wrapping and tying them together with his belt.

Matt puts his hand on my hips pushing them back, guiding me backward. As I take steps backward, I eventually fall on his bed. He crawls on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee, making space for himself.

He yanks up my hands by the tied belt, pinning them above my head, immediately, Matt attacks my neck with his lips, leaving a trail of kisses from my neck to my breasts, he kisses softly, slipping in a few bites. His hand slides up my thigh, stopping at my heat, his thumb starts to draw circles on my clit.

"Matt," I moan out. "Shhh, we don't want Nick or Chris hearing us do we?" He says looking up at me, taking his lips off of my breast. I shake my head in response and he smirks, "good girl," he says as he continues to rub circles on my clit his lips now moving back from my breast to my collarbone to my jaw before meeting my lips.

"Matt," I moan out as I try to pull my hands out of his grip. "Matt what?" He says as his hands push harder on mine, making sure I can't move. "Please, I need you," I whimper. He lets go of my hands and pulls away from my clit, making me let out a whimper from the loss of contact.

I immediately bring my hands down to my clit and start rubbing circles on my clit, pleasuring myself. As he unbuttons his jeans, he notices my hands, he grabs and pins them above my head again. "Are you gonna make me punish you?" He says his voice filthy and dark. "No," I say, shaking my head and looking at him. "Yeah, be a good girl for me," Matt says practically growling.

I move up and down my hips trying to get some relief as I watch him undo his jean shorts pulling them down, his boxers with them making his cock spring out, hitting his lower abdomen, precum glistening on his tip. Matt looks at me, "see what your little strategy to win did to me," he says raising his eyebrow.

"Please Matt, I can't take it anymore," I say as I scoot closer. Matt moves on top of me pinning my hands again, his other hand sliding my panties to the side before aligning himself with my heat. He pushes his cock in slowly before pulling it out almost completely, then pushing back in hard. "Oh- my- god- Matt-" I moan out between thrusts, his hand moving over my mouth to muffle my moans.

Matt fastens his thrusts, with each thrust going in deeper, making me moan out loud, he leans into my ear. "That's it, sweetheart, take my cock so good," Matt growls, pushing in me deeper than ever, his tip hitting my g-spot with every thrust. "Mmmm Matt you feel so good, I'm close," I moan out feeling my climax creeping up tension building in my stomach.

Matt moves his elbow next to my head, positioning himself so he's able to thrust even deeper. I arch my back as the pleasure takes over my body. His quiet moans landed in my ear, his hot breath sending me over the edge.

"Matt, I'm about to cum," I moan out. He smashes his lips onto mine in order to contain my moans as he plants a few more thrusts before I feel my walls tighten around his length, feeling the knot in my stomach releasing, my climax coming over me, I moan into the kiss. His hips continue to move as he thrusts in me a few more times before planting his cum inside me groaning, breaking the kiss.

He pulls out falling next to me, turning his head to look at me. "Who won?" He says smirking. "I did," I answer smiling, knowing this will piss him off. "Can you untie me?" I say as I shake my hands. "You didn't say Simon says," Matt answers teasing me back. "Simon says round two," I say as a devilish smirk appears on my lips.

I guess I won't be heading to Nick's room tonight.

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heathermason6060 · 3 months ago

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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Missing Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: Smut, degradation, minor alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, NO use of (Y/N)

Summary: You and Daryl distract each other from missing Merle.

Notes: Wanted to try the idea of Daryl thinking he wants super rough sex, but he finds out he doesn't really like it that much when you indulge in it. GIF found from Pinterest from user vallie

Taking a hot shower was something you used to take for granted. But after arriving at the CDC and having the chance to not only clean, but sanitize yourself, you made every second count. You even fucking shaved.

When you heard Jenner would also be serving dinner, you could've thrown up in excitement.

“C'mon, quit actin’ like a pussy and drink.”

You rolled your eyes at the redneck's words, but shrugged and waved him forward anyway. He grinned in success and filled a cup with red wine, nearly spilling it on your chest with the way he shoved it towards you.

The shift in the atmosphere the last few hours had been remarkable. Not too long ago you were in the first stages of accepting your possible demise, standing behind Shane and Daryl as they fought to get Rick away from the doors. Now here you sat between Carol and Daryl, drinking some of the best wine you'd ever tasted, enough food on your plate to fill your stomach the way it was meant to be.

You barely heard Daryl whisper beside you over the happy chatter of your group. “Watch, he's gonna turn all red, Koreans all got an allergy to alcohol.”

You couldn't help but break into a grin at that, shaking your head in amusement. He looked too excited for you to correct him so you just chuckled, and tried not to fall from your chair when he playfully elbowed you in your side.

The sight of Lori and Shane in the little library foiled your plans to read before bed. You only watched for a second, it looked like they were arguing, trying to keep their voices down despite their frustration.

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels, annoyed you'd have to settle on something in the rec room.

As soon as you turned the corner to walk down the hall, you bumped into a chest so hard you lost your balance. Their hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and when you heard that teasing southern accent you immediately felt your mood lifting.

“That wine make you blind? You Korean too?” He snickered as he helped you right yourself.

It was incredibly refreshing to see Daryl in that light. He was in a great mood, not drunk but buzzed enough to keep a grin on his face.

“Fucking Shane and Lori's in there.” You grumbled playfully, crossing your arms in exaggerated annoyance.

“Huh, what're they doin’?” His voice lowered to a nosey whisper and he nudged you back to peek around the corner. He immediately pulled back, bumping into you again, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuckin’ white trash. Actin’ like Rick ain't right down the hall.”

That had you turning into a nosey busybody and you went to see what he was talking about, but he had already nudged your shoulder in the other direction to the bedroom halls.

“C'mon, let's go do somethin’.” He didn't wait for an answer as he continued using his body to guide you down the hallway, reminding you of a sheepdog, which amused you to no end.

“Like what?” You smirked as he shouldered you into one of the rec rooms. There were a few loveseats, bean bag chairs, a long couch and endless shelves of things. Board games, card games, sketch books and those really expensive high quality colored pencils, markers, you name it. You could spend the rest of your life in this room and die happy.

“Hell, I don't know.” He shrugged and went to look through the shelves. You watched him in the doorway, your lip tightening at the side when you realized he was desperate to take his mind off Merle. Shit, you were too. You missed the fuck out of Merle Dixon. You'd grown extremely close to him, he wordlessly accepted your vulnerability of being the black sheep and Daryl related to it. They treated you like some weird adopted family member that one playfully flirted with and the other jerked off to.

“Wanna play uno? I'm suspiciously good at it.” You finally shut the door and walked over to him with crossed arms, aware of the way he tensed when you got closer.

“Uno? The fuck? Hell no.” He scoffed and aggressively flipped through the games on the shelf. “This is like some fucked up retirement center.”

“What'd you expect? An Xbox full of two player games?” You watched as he pretended to read the back of a card game box.

“Psh. I don't know. Let's go fuck with Glenn -”

You grabbed his wrist before he could rush past you and laughed. “Leave the poor kid alone. He's gonna be so fucking sick tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess. Threw up on my couch.” He muttered, remembering the way he'd had to drag Glenn to the couch in his temporary bedroom.

“Course he did. You kept pouring wine down the kids' throat.”

You had a few minutes of friendly banter, suggested uno again, he suggested strip poker, you suggested skipping the poker, and soon you were grinding against his knee behind some of the book shelves.

“I want it dirty. Want it raw.” He huffed as he feverishly unbuckled his belt. “F-fuck, you're so hot.”

You grinned and leaned in to bite his bottom lip, earning a delicious whimper from him. You dug your teeth down harder and pulled back, feeling his dick twitch obscenely against your hip.

“Want it dirty, yeah?” You drawled and kissed down his neck, switching between biting and biting hard.

“Yeah.” He breathed and fucked his hand, clutching onto your hair with his other. “You think,” he faltered as you bit down on his nipple, his words spilling into various curses and slang you couldn't understand. “Shhh-fuck” His voice cracked in a way that was absolutely fucking adorable to you. “Y’think, you could, on top-”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You made your way back up to his neck, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but he stopped you. You didn't question it, you just sat him down on one of the loveseats and climbed in his lap.

You looked over your shoulder at the door, even though it was shut anyone could just walk in, but Daryl grabbed your chin and forced you back against his mouth.

You fucking loved the way he kissed. It was so hot and sloppy, his tongue diving everywhere in your mouth, licking every spot he could reach. When you pulled back to breathe, the skin around your lips felt wet, just another thing to make your pussy wetter. Daryl Dixon being so messy and dirty drove you insane.

“I like the way you kiss me,” you slurred, your hands sliding up your pajama shirt to grope your own breasts. “Who would've thought you were such a needy whore.”

“Can you blame me, woman? Shit.” He thrusted up against you as he admired your form over him, your lips parted and your hair in your face, you looked hotter than every single pornstar he'd ever seen. He came harder to you than Sasha Grey.

You maneuvered out of your pajama pants and slipped back in his lap, sliding your pussy against his throbbing cock.

“Fuckin’ goddamnit.” He sputtered and grabbed hold of your hips for dear life. He rolled up in sync with you, nearly cumming when he saw the way his head would push through your folds each time your hips slid back.

It was easier to get him inside you with you on top, you didn't need to worry about him slamming into you like last time. You took your time, enjoying the way he curled his upper lip in frustration, his eyes locked on the way his dick disappeared up inside you.

“Fuck.” You drew your word out as you finally sat down on him, his dick sticking you like a skewer.

You opened your eyes when you felt him grabbing your right wrist. He brought it up to his throat with no hesitation, a new boldness filling him that you didn't expect.

You scoffed and laughed, the sound making his hips jerk roughly up into you. You obliged though, grabbing hold of his thick throat and squeezing.

The situation you found yourself in was something you could easily get used to. You leaned back, keeping yourself upright with your grip on his neck. You rolled your hips in a way that served you, using Daryl's dick to get off. The way you fucked him was completely foreign to him, he'd never seen anything like this in the tapes he'd steal from Merle.

You moaned when he bucked into you, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. You released his neck and grabbed his chin, your thumb slipping between his teeth, holding him like a hooked fish. He looked up at you through his lashes and bit down gently, his hips rolling slower now.

“You're a fucking mess.” You hissed with a smirk, looking down at your work proudly. Now he was the one who needed to be in a filthy magazine. His cheeks and lips red, his eyes half lidded and dark, his teeth bared and biting on your thumb. He was sweating like crazy and you were impressed he hadn't come yet, must've been the wine. “God I missed your dick.”

You weren't sure how it happened but soon you were pressed against the wall, your thighs wrapped around his back and his dick rearranging your insides. You couldn't moan even if you wanted, he was so rough and fast that all you could do was gasp in each breath, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open.

His thrusts slowed and he pulled back from biting your neck to nip the side of your jaw, making your eyes roll back to focus.

“Slap me.”

Your words didn't register to him for a second. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, although his rough thrusts didn't even budge.

“C'mon, you wanted it dirty, didn't you?” You sneered, and a book fell from the shelf next to you when your head thudded back against the wall after a deep thrust.

He went to speak, but he only let out a long breath, and that's when his thrusts started to slow. “The hell you want that for?”

You were caught off guard by the look on his face. He looked equally confused and almost… insulted? Hurt?

“Cause it feels really fucking good. Hey, you don't have to, alright?” Your breathing came back under your control when his thrusts stopped altogether.

You could tell you upset him. You slid your legs from his waist until your toes touched the floor, and his dick slipped out of you.

“Hey, it's okay, alright?” You reached to touch his chin but he tilted his head away, no longer looking confused, moreso disappointed.

You bit your bottom lip and thought. He was in no state to make any further moves so you made it for him. You pulled your clothes back on and took him to his bedroom, making sure to close and lock the door. You turned the lights off and laid him down on the bed before climbing on top of him.

“I just wanna make you feel good, can I do that?” You murmured softly, sitting on his lap and stroking his cheek.

That seemed to get to him and he gave in, nodding once without meeting your gaze.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” You promised and kissed down his cheek, deciding against being rough with him the way you were before.

“Never gonna hear me say that.” He snorted and intertwined his fingers in your hair, gentle, something you hadn't experienced with him. It was like a switch was flipped and he was a completely different man.

Daryl melted under you as you worked him over with soft touches and kisses. You took your bottoms back off and took his dick back out, giving him a few strokes to get him hard again. You wasted no time in slipping him inside you, thankful there was little resistance with how wet you had become.

You settled down on him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, your fingers pinching the buttons on his shirt as a way to ground yourself. His dick sent you to other places.

You fucked him slow, taking the time to feel and appreciate each time his tip rubbed against your sweet spot. He breathed noisily under you, giving the occasional grunt or quiet whine, his hands resting on your hips.

Flipping your hair to one side over your shoulder, you leaned down and kissed him. You led this time, just moving your lips against his, slow and deep and without the use of your teeth, no matter how badly you wished to hear him whimper.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around your back to turn you over, somehow managing to keep his lips on yours the entire time.

You felt your muscles sigh in relief when he laid you on your back in the soft bed. You let out a soft happy breath when he slid his hands up your sides, content in just stroking your skin. He wasn't fucking you then, it was something different. If you were stupid you'd call it making love. He thrusted deep and slow, his hips moving on their own accord. Each time he plunged back in he'd exhale deeply through his nose, tickling the skin of your upper lip.

Daryl was the one to break the kiss, he leaned back on his heels to look down at you.

“So damn pretty.” He mumbled, his eyelids struggling to stay open. If he wasn't drunk on the wine he was drunk on you and this new way of having you, a way he never even considered. This was it, he thought, this is how he wanted to have sex for the rest of his life. Swallowing each other whole, touching and caressing every inch of skin.

His eyelids didn't feel so heavy when he saw you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes closed and you grabbed at your hair and breast, your head lolling to the side, your mouth hanging open, your face all twisted up-

You came hard around him, shuddering and gasping and whimpering as you enjoyed your sweet orgasm. It was so different, so drastically different from the last one he gave you. You didn't feel like you were on fire, clawing at your skin with your throat raw, you felt like you were being slipped into the warm black lake that was Daryl Dixon.

“Daryl, oh my god Daryl.” Your words slurred in your mouth and he leaned down to kiss you. He wanted to swallow every little noise you made. Wanted to swallow your breaths, wanted to swallow you.

“Ss-shh-fuck.” He bubbled against your lips as he came, forgetting to pull out again. He didn't give a shit anymore. He moaned then, such a beautiful noise that it nearly shattered your heart. So shameless, he didn't hold back at all, letting you hear all of it, all that you earned from him.

He ground his hips into you well after you both finished, making sure every last drop of his cum filled you up. He buried his face in your neck and rolled his hips, his rough pubes grinding against your throbbing clit. You'd never come that way before, not without at least a little outside stimulation, the fact he made you cum from penetration alone changed your life for good.

It was hard to bite back any further words. You moaned softly at the feeling of his dick still dragging against your walls, nudging against you each time in a way that was nearly too much to bear.

You looked at him with admiration. He looked beautiful. You reached up and ran your hand over his short hair, wiping the sweat from his brows. He looked at you, something he needed great courage to do, and sighed.

He couldn't think of anything to say. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, he'd been so deeply vulnerable that it physically hurt him. He swore he'd blow his goddamn brains out if you laughed or made fun of him.

But you didn't, you just smiled up at him with that dangerous look on your face that had his heart racing. It should've relaxed him, but it didn't, it made the muscles in his shoulders tense.

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered as you stroked his cheek, fully prepared for him to go back to the same old Daryl Dixon you knew and tolerated.

“Do whatcha want.” He breathed, finally pulling his soft dick from you.

“Good. Then I'll stay.” You leaned up on your elbows and kissed his jaw before slipping into the bathroom.

When you climbed back in bed he was pretending to be asleep. You scoffed quietly in amusement and pulled a thin sheet over the two of you, curling up behind him. You decided that wouldn't suit you so you turned over and wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in the back of his neck.

You kissed the skin there once before pressing your forehead against the same spot, closing your eyes when you felt comfortable.

Daryl stared at the wall in front of him as he felt your fingers softly fidget with the buttons of his shirt. They soon stilled and your breathing slowed to a point where he could barely hear it anymore. Only then did he close his eyes, and secretly enjoy the way you held him.

The next morning was awkward when you woke up and saw Glenn still passed out on the couch.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

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lemonlover1110 · 11 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Family game night never ends well in your family, unless Toji wins (Spoiler alert: He rarely wins.)

Warnings: Fluff, Toji gets upset causing his kids to get upset.

*Little drabble from A Pearl and You, My Angel and My Saint, you don't have to read either to enjoy this cute little (yet chaotic) family!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Family game night is a complete nightmare in your household. It’s not because of your kids but because of your husband. You’re not surprised that Toji is competitive, if anything, you’d be shocked if he wasn’t. You’ve been with Toji for so long that you know what behaviors to expect from him, which is why you’re hesitant to have a family game night.

“Look what I found!” Eight-year-old Misumi brings an old board game to the living room where the family is at. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, looking at the old box of candy land. Immediately he shakes his head, speaking up,

“Throw that shit out!” Megumi says.

“Language!” Kenji and Kamiko call out their older brother, causing you to laugh. You wonder why Megumi has such a strong reaction to the game, but then he glances at his father and you have a single scenario in your head: Toji yelling at Megumi because he lost in candy land. You glance at Toji who looks away in shame, knowing that what you’re thinking is exactly right.

“I wanna play!” Misumi exclaims, and the three-year-old twins are the first ones to agree. They don’t really get games, leaving them teamed up with you and Toji. You look at Toji and a sigh leaves his lips.

“I guess… You in, Gumi?” Toji looks at his eldest son, and Megumi is about to say no, but he looks at Misumi, and she gives him puppy eyes. He guesses he can be a good big brother at least once a while, right? How bad can it be?

“Yeah. Whatever.” Megumi responds, making Misumi open the box and put the game down on the coffee table. Kenji runs to his father, hoping that they’ll play together, while Kamiko runs to play with you. You all pick your respective pieces and begin to play.

The game starts off great, everything goes smoothly until your husband has to go back one spot. You notice Toji’s eyebrows furrowing, and he takes a deep breath. But the team recovers, and the game continues smoothly. Megumi surpasses Toji, which again, causes Toji to clench his jaw; in the end, he bites his tongue so nothing happens. Toji surpasses Megumi again. The game continues just fine again.

Toji and Kenji are so close to winning– Until Misumi surpasses them and wins. You immediately understand Megumi’s reaction when Toji flips over the game and raises his voice, “Damn you, Mimi! Next time I won’t be paired up with some snot-nosed brat!”

“Toji!” You yell at him, and you watch as both Kenji and Misumi’s eyes well up with tears. Misumi begins to sniffle while Kenji fully screams crying. Toji realizes how badly he’s fucked up, and he begins to comfort his son, kissing the top of his head over and over again before he begins to apologize. Misumi runs up the stairs crying, and Megumi stands up to comfort his little sister.

“Mimi, wait! I’m sorry!” Toji stands up, holding his son as he runs up the stairs to comfort his daughter.

You look down at your three-year-old daughter who sits on your lap. She shrugs, asking, “What was that?”

You kiss the top of her head before telling her, “Your daddy is a sore loser, baby.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff #dad toji #toji imagine

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starzioo · 9 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓. 𝐈𝐂𝐘.

This is a AU Theo One-Shot! You’re a figure skater and he’s a hockey player. I mean come onnnn you’re telling me he wouldn’t play hockey in an AU?

NO WARNINGS JUST FLUFF! ^.^

As you and your friends enter the cold skating arena you see the hockey team. This wouldn't be a problem besides for the fact that the figure skating team had already scheduled the rink for today. You were the head of the figure skating team so naturally it was your duty to figure out why there was a ton of sweaty boys on the ice where your team was supposed to be practicing for the next comp. The boys still hadn't noticed your team coming inside. 'Oblivious as always' you think to yourself as you lace up your skates.

Once you were fit to be on the ice you entered the rink. "NOTT!" You yelled for the captain as the boys were all practicing drills. They were all yelling at each other rough housing while practicing, so regardless of your effort he still couldn't hear you. You skated closer. "NOTT!" One of the boys finally notice you and jabs Theo's arm to get him to turn around. You were fuming. Ofcourse, on the days leading up to the upcoming competition he would be the one to interrupt your scheduled practice. You and Theo didn't have the greatest of relationships. He would always make comments about how figure skating wasn't a real sport or invalidate your team. You couldn't stand him. Ohh and better yet whenever you two would rarely have the occasional interaction, he would every time, without fail, tease you enough to wear you would just have to walk away.

"Nott. What the hell do you think you're doing here?" You say nearly out raged as you skate up to him. "Why, what ever do you mean Y/n, and whatever happened to hello?" "You know exactly what I mean! Don't try to act so innocent. You knew that we were supposed to have the ice today!" You say crossing your arms looking up at the tall boy, brows furrowed. He towered over you, you weren't gonna lie here but Theo was practically eye candy. He was tall, broad shoulders, slim waist, his striking stormy eyes, and golden locks would be enough to make any girl fold. But not you. His personality and past actions to you and your team was enough to make you be repulsed by him. Or at least so you thought. "No we were scheduled to have the ice. Not like you would actually be doing anything useful on it." He slightly mumbled and snickered the last part. The rest of the hockey team shared laughs with eachother from the comment. "Check the schedule on the board dimwit! We are scheduled every sunday, wednesday, and friday, and guess what? It's friday." You say staring intently at the boy. He pauses. "Well coach told us we can take the ice whenever we please as long as we're practicing." He says shrugging. "I don't care what 'YoUr CoAch SaYs' we are scheduled to be here and I don't plan on leaving." You say with no intention of folding to wishes. His team 'oooo's at your remark. Theo looks around the rink then sighs. "We have an upcoming game-" "And we have an upcoming competition." You interrupt. He sighs, "How about we share the ice, but just for today. We'll take left and you guys can have the other half." His team erupts in groans and 'cmonn's. You consider his suggestion, "I'll have to discuss that." You say sighing.

You skate back to your team who are all waiting at the front of the arena. When they see you approaching they all start asking questions, 'are we gonna be able to practice today?' 'Are they gonna leave or what?' "So...Nott said that we can split the ice for today." The girls groan at the thought of sharing the arena with the sweaty boys. "They have an upcoming game and we have our competition...if you guys don't wanna practice today that's fine but that just means on sunday we're gonna have to be earlier and stay later." You say shrugging giving them their options. The girls chatter and formulate their thoughts together. The hockey team watches from the rink. "So?" You ask the girls. "We should just share the ice for today, none of us wanna stay late on sunday...I mean it's a school night. It's just not gonna fit." One of the girls speak up. "Mmok." You sigh. "Just lace up and get ready to run your routines okay? We'll try to make the best of the space we have." You say reassuring the girls, then skate back to Theo. "We'll share the ice for today.." They groan, you roll your eyes. "And Nott so help me, if I see one puck or player on our side of the arena it's not gonna be pretty." You say glaring up at Theo, he rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say Y/n...Pleasure doing business with you" He smirks extending his hand for you to shake it. "No thank you." You say turning around and skating back to the girls. You explain the conditions and what not. You lay out little orange cones down the middle of the arena to signify the 'border' between the two teams.

The girls ran their routines with limited space. As captain you were to make sure the girl's routines were as close to perfect as possible, all while trying to perfect yours. There was already enough stress not including the fact you had to share the arena. While most of the girls were taking a break, you decided to run your routine since you had more space. All of your routine was going smoothly, nearly perfect actually, until you failed to land your double axel. You would've landed it if it wasn't for the hockey puck that had slid underneath you skate. As the blade and the puck hit each other you fell to the ground. Flat on your ass. Your eyes shut and face scrunched from the sudden fall. You look for the reason you didn't land, your eyes lay on the hockey puck. You were furious. The girls had already rushed up to you to see if you were okay, they helped you up. The boys stood across the rink mouths agape preparing for the ass ripping you were about to give them. You grab the hockey puck and skate up to Theo who was already approaching you. "Nott what the fuck is this? I told you to no pucks on our side! Exactly for that reason!" You say gesturing towards where you fell. "Y/n, I'm sorry. It's not like we did it intentionally!" He tries to reason. "Keep it on your side." You say pressing the heavy puck into his chest, slightly pushing him back.

You skate back to outside the rink to catch a break and get some water. The rest of the girls stay on the ice glaring daggers at the boys while they resume practicing. The rest of the girls run through their routines again, you give them notes and help them perfect every small thing. The rest of practice went smoothly, the boys not daring to let a puck even get close to the cones. After about 2 hours the boys had all left the rink and went to the shower rooms or had just left entirely. You say goodbye to your team, giving them small hugs. You were then left alone on the ice.

Since your fall you decided you would stay late and run your routines until the janitors came. You cleared the cones and ran your routine from the top. Finally you were able to land your double axel without the worry of hockey pucks. Your routine included many tricks and techniques. You landed two more double axels after the first and after a couple more swift tricks your routine was done. As you finished you heard clapping coming from the front of the rink. You surprised, immediately all your attention was on the tall boy who was intently watching you. "Oh piss off Nott." You roll your eyes skating to your water. "What? I was being serious, ya know Y/n you might be changing my mind on if figure skating is a real sport." He teased leaning against the entrance of the rink. You scoff. "For starters it is. I would like to see you land those tricks." You take a sip of your water. "Oh really? I can't see how it could be that hard, all you're doing is twirling." He rolls his eyes. You set your water down and cross your arms. "Okay then, do it." You shrug. He gets on the ice and skates up to you. "Watch me." He says with his usual absolutely massive ego. You lean against the railing and gesture for him to go. He tries to imitate your routine and then tries to go for the double axel.

*BOOM*

He landed straight on his ass, just like you did, but twenty times harder. He groans laying flat on his back on the ice. You can't help but start laughing at the sight. Covering your mouth you lean forward absolutely consumed with laughter. "Oh shut it Y/n." He says sitting up. You continue laughing. "I'm really gonna need them to pull the camera footage of that." You say in between your fits of laughter. He's finally back on his feet. "I could've landed that if I really wanted to." He says acting nonchalant as he comes back to you. You raise an eye brow. "Oh really?" "Yup." He says shrugging. "God, and you say figure skating isn't a real sport?" "Well maybe my opinions might be in the route of changing..." He says lightly laughing. "As much as I would like to see you fall on your ass again, I need to run my routine a couple more times." You say folding your arms looking up at him. "Oh uhm, I actually wanted to apologize for earlier...with the whole, uh y'know..." He says scratching the back of his head. You sigh "It's whatever, not like I actually got injured or anything." You say looking anywhere but his eyes. "But what if?" He says softly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. His usual nonchalant teasing tone now completely washed away. His small remark made you pay your attention back to him, you tilt your head slightly. "I...uhm..." You say with a small voice. His icy eyes staring intently into yours. The tension is thick. The air between you going thin. "I don't know how I could've made it up to you if you got hurt...I just...I know we've had our differences, but I just wanna make things right." He says softly placing a reassuring hand on your arm, his thumb rubbing up and down gently. You glance down at his hand then back up at him. "Uhm...I...uh.." You say quietly. A dusty pink rising to your cheeks, maybe it was just from the cold atmosphere, or maybe not. You've never found yourself flustered around him before. Seeing this side of him was weird. He actually cared? Your mind was blank, you were unable to formulate any words.

You two stand in the middle of the rink. The lights from above shining down on you two. "I wanted to let you know I'm not some complete jerk I guess..." His eyes glancing all around your face. He towered over you, normally it wouldn't have mattered, but being in this position right now you felt completely vulnerable under his soft touch. You just looked up at him, your eyelashes fluttering. When you saw his eyes linger down to your lips your heart nearly stopped. As for when he began to slowly dip his head down to yours, you froze. His lips ghosted yours for a second. With his hand still lingering on your arm, he softly connected his lips with yours. His free hand gliding gently up to the side of your face. The second his soft lips touched yours, you immediately gave into the kiss. In an arena of cold ice, your body was anything but cold. Your hands snaked up to either side of his neck and face. His lips were like plush, tenderly moving against yours. He pulls away resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter open. His eyes fixated on yours. Your chest rising up and down with every flustered breath you take.

"HEY LOVE BIRDS WE'RE CLOSED!"

Almost in an instant you both rip away from each other to see the janitor standing at the entrance of the arena donut in hand. "Oh uhm!" You say completely embarrassed, your fingertips cover your lips. You and Theo both stand there just staring at him. "Well cmon, I gotta get to cleaning." The janitor says rushing you guys to get going. You both skate to the entrance not saying a word. You quickly change out of your skates and pack your bag. Theo doing the same. You both walk to the exit together still no words being said. "Well, uhm, goodnight Theo." You say trying to exit the building as fast as possible still completely unbelieving what just happened. As you try to walk away Theo's warm hand grasps your wrist pulling you back close to him. "Y/n...just...I've been wanting to do that for so long, please just give me one chance, one chance to show you I'm not who you think I am." He says tenderly looking down at you. "Okay..." You say eyes connecting with his. "Dinner? Tomorrow at 7?" "Yeah.." A small smile grows on your face. "Okay, i'll text you okay?" "Okay, goodnight Theo.." you say softly. Stand on your tippy toes planting a gentle but sweet kiss on his cheek.

=======

This is soooo cute rahhhh!

#hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #fandom #fanfic #slytherin boys #x reader #slytherin #slytherin fanfiction #y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott headcanons #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #AU oneshot

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wannaeatramyeon · 5 months ago

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The Crew Heads with Reader: Suits

G/N. Silly. You wonder about their outfits. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo). Non plot panel spoilers for 505 under cut!

"Why do you always wear suits to fight?" You ask the four men lounging in your living room.

You hold up their dry cleaning. "A. It's costing a fortune to clean and B. Aren't, I dunno, track pants comfier?"

"I don't." Johan pipes up and you get the urge to pat him on the head. His custom God Dog designs are frankly adorable.

It is utterly charming having him show you the latest outfit he has drawn. With a logo and everything. He never explicitly asks what you think, but you know he seeks your approval anyway.

"Not you," you agree, giving Johan a warm smile that makes him avert his eyes and his ears turn pink.

The rest of the guys, Samuel, Jake and Eli exchange shifty glances at your questions.

"And there's no way-" You hold up a rag. You assume it must have been a Big Deal jacket at some point before it was torn up, "-They said they can repair this. They said I was out of my mind."

Jake had surmised it was a long shot. It was technically missing the lapels. And sleeves. And had long gashes down the back so most of it was ripped off and in tatters.

You're not wrong that it's costing a lot and he thought he would chance a repair instead of having to get a new jacket for Lineman.

You're right, unfortunately. He's going to have to look into some tracksuits instead.

"Thanks for trying," he says with a shrug.

The thing is, the Big Deal uniform just looks cool. Men in suits, who doesn't like that?

Samuel pre-Workers and pre-Big Deal also favoured suits because of how it looked. Authoritative. Like he means business. He wasn't a huge fan of the Workers white but the status that came along with it more than compensated for the colour.

Eli was convinced during the Fifth Affiliates when he was provided made-to-measure Workers suits to represent the crew. Warren and Max and Derrick didn't need much convincing after the girls oohed and aahed over it.

Except the Hostel budget didn't stretch to nice tailored suits, so they had to settle for black shirts and pants.

Still. That was cool enough.

But they can't admit that.

It's embarrassing to let you know they base their whole outfit on what looks good because truth be told, they can barely stretch in those things.

The material isn't made for high kicks and full body slams and sudden movements. One lunge and they risk a split along the asscrack.

It's why their clothes end up torn off so often.

And yes, there has been awkward popped buttons or ripped seams during inopportune moments mid fight when even Gun Park's eyes momentarily flickered down to exposed underwear or an ass cheek hanging out.

But goddamn, the aesthetics.

"It's comfortable," Eli says unconvincingly, as you raise an eyebrow at his answer.

Somewhere to your right, you hear Johan mutter, "Liar."

#this is crack gone too far #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #jake kim #eli jang #johan seong #samuel seo #jake kim x reader #eli jang x reader #johan seong x reader #samuel seo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago

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Curtain Calls and Curveballs II

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: After high school graduation, you never expected to see Kenji Sato again. But fate reunites you both at the same university where your love/hate relationship continues to grow.

Word Count: 1,376

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author's Note: Oops, it became a short series 🫢 Part 3’s otw and I changed the title

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLIST

You were dead wrong when you thought that high school graduation would be the last time you’d ever have to interact with Kenji. You remember your last words then, saying, “Congrats, Sato! I hope this is the last time I ever have to deal with you again.”

To which he replied with, “I’m sure this isn’t the last, (y/n)—to me at least—if ever you really are going to be the actress you dream of being.”

You were hurrying across the busy campus of your university, juggling a stack of drama textbooks and a cup of coffee.

Just as you were about to approach the performing arts building, you noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board. Your curiosity built up as you got closer to see what the commotion was about.

“Did you hear? There's a big baseball game this weekend.” a familiar voice called out.

You turned, heart skipping a beat. You didn’t expect to see anyone from high school here, let alone Kenji Sato. He stood there, his signature confident grin in place, holding a baseball glove.

"Kenji?" you blurted out, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Kenji raised an eyebrow, looking equally taken aback. "I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I thought you were off to some fancy drama school."

“I am,” you rolled your eyes, recovering from the shock. “This university has one of the best drama programs in LA. What about you? I thought you were headed straight for the big leagues."

“Not yet,” Kenji chuckled, shaking his head. “I've got a scholarship to play baseball here while I get my degree.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. The familiar tension from high school crept back in, but it was tinged with the novelty of your new surroundings.

"So, you're still playing ball?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, and I'm still throwing strikes," Kenji replied with a smirk. "And you? Still pretending to be someone else on stage?"

“Ugh!” you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "It's called acting, Kenji. Something you'd know nothing about."

Kenji laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "Fair enough. So, are you coming to the game this weekend? It's against our biggest rival. Should be a good show."

"I might," you said, shrugging. "If I don't have rehearsals."

"Typical," Kenji said, shaking his head. "Always busy with your little plays."

"And you're always busy chasing a ball," you retorted.

The rivalry that had defined your high school years was still there, but it was different now but no less present.

"Well, I've got to get to practice," Kenji said finally, stepping back. "Try not to trip on stage, (y/n)."

"And you try not to get hit by a pitch, Sato," she shot back.

As you went your own way, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Being in college felt like being in an unknown and bigger territory with so much more people. It was nice to come across someone you know in a crowd of unfamiliar faces; even if that was Kenji.

So many things have changed since you got into college. The only thing that didn’t, of course, was your rivalry with Kenji but the competition was less intense since you were in different programs.

This shift allowed you to focus on your individual passions without the constant pressure of direct competition. Here, in college, people didn’t know about the rivalry you had.

But this anonymity disappeared quicker than you thought because, for every time you came across each other, you’d always be hurling sarcastic remarks; as you two always did.

One bustling afternoon in the cafeteria, you were with your new friends, laughing and discussing your upcoming production.

"Hey, (y/n), I heard your play's actually worth watching this time," Kenji called out, smirking as he approached with his tray.

“Kenji,” You looked up, a frown on your face. "I thought you'd be busy throwing balls around. What brings you to the world of real talent?"

Kenji chuckled, setting his tray down. "Just wanted to see if you're still pretending to be someone you're not."

One of your friends raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. "You two know each other?"

“Unfortunately,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sighed. "Kenji here thinks he's the king of everything just because he can throw a ball."

"Careful, (y/n). Your jealousy is showing," Kenji retorted, grinning.

Your friends exchanged looks, quickly picking up on the rivalry. "So, you two have a history?"

"You could say that," Kenji said. "She's been trying to keep up with me since high school."

You scoffed, "In your dreams, Sato."

On baseball games, you’d attend with a group of friends from your program more to support the school than to see Kenji, or so you told yourself.

As you settled in your seat, one of your guy friends nudged you. "Isn't that the guy you're always talking about? The baseball star?" He asked.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Yes, that's Kenji,” you said. “Try not to feed his ego."

Kenji was on the mound, winding up for a pitch. He glanced towards the stands where he spotted you and your friends. With a smirk, he nodded in your direction.

"Is he waving at us?" another friend asked.

“No,” you shook your head. "He's just trying to show off. Watch, he'll probably strike this guy out just to make a point."

Sure enough, Kenji delivered a fastball that struck the batter out, the crowd erupting in cheers. He turned back to you, giving a mock bow.

Your guy friend laughed. "You weren't kidding,” he said. He's got a flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," you muttered. "He's always been like this."

More than once, on your rehearsals, you’d find Kenji standing by the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Nice performance, (y/n)," he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Almost believed you were someone else."

You paused, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here, Kenji?” You asked. “Lost your way to the field?"

The director looked between the two of you, intrigued. "Friend of yours, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Hardly," you answered, crossing your arms. "Just someone who thinks he's more important than he actually is."

Kenji grinned, unfazed. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You know, your acting. Seems like everyone's talking about it."

"Well, I'm flattered," you said dryly. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have real work to do."

As Kenji left, one of your fellow actors whispered, "He really gets under your skin, doesn't he?"

You sighed, shaking her head. "He's been doing it for years."

During hell week, your exams season, you’d spend your time in the library a little longer. Of course, Kenji knew about this. He’s been keeping tabs on you since coming across you when you were freshmen.

You were studying in a quiet corner of the library when Kenji walked in. He made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Studying hard, I see," he said, grinning. "Trying to finally beat me at something?"

You looked up, exasperated. "Kenji, some of us actually have exams to prepare for,” you replied. “Don't you have a game to practice for?"

"Already did," he said. "Thought I'd see what the academic life is like. How's the memorizing going? More lines to learn?"

"At least I use my brain for something other than sports," you shot back.

A nearby student, overhearing the exchange, glanced over with curiosity. "Do you two always bicker like this?"

You nodded, not missing a beat, “Pretty much. It's our thing."

Kenji laughed, leaning back in his chair, "Can't let her get too comfortable, can I?"

As he left, the student shook his head, smiling, "You two have a strange relationship."

You didn’t even know that guy or from what program he’s in. It felt like it was high school all over again where everyone knew of your rivalry, and it’s the only thing they knew between you two.

And soon enough, it will be what the world knows about you two.

PART THREE

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@hismistresss @sweetangle8 @aerivina

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman: rising #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #slow burn #eventual romance #coming of age

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disaster-writer · 4 months ago

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Teenage Dirtbag (Part 2/3)

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Summary: You and Rodrick Heffley grew up right next door to each other. You’re best friends and nothing could ever change that… at least that’s what you’ve always thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I broke part 2 up into two so there will now be three parts to this fic

Part 1

“This is so weird,” Greg whispered to David and Rowley, both currently sitting on either side of him, all three of them crowded around the TV as Greg played Twisted Wizard “Are they still doing it?”

Rowley glanced behind him, “Yeah…” he answered uneasily, “Did something happen?”

"Not that I know of," David shrugged.

"Me neither."

All three of them turned around again, the sight sending a chill down their spines.

It should have been just like any other Saturday. Rodrick grounded as usual. You coming over to hang out with Rodrick despite his punishment. Greg and his friends playing video games. And both parents out with Manny.

Only it wasn't like any other Saturday. Because instead of choosing to hang out in Rodrick's room or torturing the kids (which tended to be your only hobbies you could think of when one of you was grounded), both you and Rodrick were sitting on either side of the couch, an entire cushion apart and stiff as a board. You guys weren't talking-- in fact Greg could have sworn you guys haven't even looked at each other since you showed up. All you two were doing was watching the video game as well. It was so out of character for you both that the boys were completely creeped out... they were starting to wish you two were all over each other like usual just to have that sense of normalcy... even if that meant hunting them down and beating on them or making fun of them.

It was your fault really. You thought you could just show up to the Heffley's and hang out with Rodrick, pretending that nothing happened last night.

Turns out a teenage boy can't just pretend that they didn't witness their best friend dancing around completely naked. And turns out you can't just pretend your best friend didn't see you in all your glory.

You played with the rings on your fingers, fidgeting to try and distract yourself from the elephant in the room. Should you bring it up and try to laugh it off? Try and carry on as if he saw nothing? Maybe a subtle joke about making sure your blinds were closed before getting changed?

Fuck-- nothing this mortifying has ever happened to you before.

You and your friends were practically known for being too stupid to be embarrassed about anything. There was nothing that you guys ever did that kept you from showing your faces around school. Not the time that Rodrick made a complete fool of himself at Heather's Sweet 16 and still having the audacity to ask her out right after, not the time you and the rest of Löded Diper were hanging out backstage during an assembly and you told the guys you thought Mr. Andrews was hot without knowing that the overhead mic's were on and the entire assembly heard you, and not even the time you and the guys delivered a presentation high out of your fucking minds.

But for some reason, even though Rodrick was the only other person involved, you felt liked you'd never be able to live this down.

"Cool!" David exclaimed, "My mom just texted me that she can take all of us out for ice cream right now!"

"Really!?" Rowley shouted excitedly.

"Awesome! Let's go!" Greg said, pausing the game and throwing the controller on the ground as the boys then ran for the door and got their shoes on before running outside to meet your mom.

And now... that makes two.

You both continued to sit awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs and shifting in your seats.

You don't know how much time passed before Rodrick was the one to break the silence.

"So..." you pursed your lips, waiting for the bomb, "You never told me you had a tattoo on your hip."

At that you folded in on yourself, burying your face in your hands, "Let's not do this," you groaned out, words muffled by your hands. "It's too embarrassing."

"It wasn't that bad," Rodrick tried to offer.

"Yes it was. That was completely humiliating last night."

“It could’ve been worse.”

”Yeah? How?” You grumbled into your hands.

”I mean…” he trailed off, picking at a pink thread from his jeans, “You could… have the body of a sixty year old…”

You paused, “How would I— y’know what? Nevermind,” you stood up, “I’m gonna go. It’s too weird, maybe when we’ve both had some space—“

”No!” Rodrick grasped your wrist, stopping you short, “You don’t need to leave— I’m telling you it wasn’t that bad!”

You set your jaw, looking down at him. The sudden nervousness that radiated from him was palpable as he broke eye contact, glanced down at where his hand wrapped around your wrist and quickly let go.

”See! Right there!”

”Right there what!?” He yelled back, staring at his lap with a growing blush.

”This is weird and I’m going—“

Just as you took another step Rodrick shot up from his seat, “No it’s not! We just need to do something normal—once we hang out like normal we’ll forget all about it!”

”Like what?” You crossed your arms, looking at him skeptically.

”Like- like,” you watched as Rodrick frantically searched his brain for an idea, “We can go to the arcade!”

”You’re grounded dumbass,” you rolled your eyes.

”Susan’s not gonna be home for at least another three hours. We can go for two and be back and she’ll never know!”

You shifted on your feet, weighing your options. You could both get in trouble yes, but it did beat being bored at home or spending the next three hours in uncomfortable silence.

And you suppose he had a point. The event was still fresh and was just weighing heavily on your minds. Time would heal the awkward air and getting back into the swing of things would hopefully ease the awkwardness.

Pretty soon you’d both forget the entire thing even happened.

——

”What are you doing?”

Rodrick had pulled away so quickly from his blinds you would have thought they had burned him.

”Nothing you little shit— what are you doing in my room!” He had spat at Greg who stood awkwardly by his steps.

”Mom says dinner is ready— are you spying on (Y/N) or something?”

”No,” his voice cracked to which he quickly cleared, “Get out!” He scrambled to yank his shoe off which he had then chucked at his younger brother.

”Okay!” Greg yelled before stumbling down the stairs.

Rodrick Heffley was convinced that he was losing his mind.

It had been five nights since he had witnessed you dancing around naked in your bedroom.

In other words, it had been five nights checking to see if he could catch you dancing around naked again.

He couldn’t help it. He was a teenage boy that had never seen a girl naked that wasn’t in a magazine or online.

And until recently he didn’t even believe you had all those same… parts as the girls he stared at.

But you did. And he saw them. And he came to the fast realization that he wanted to see them again.

And gingerly, for the umpteenth time that night, he had stuck his fingers into his blinds and pulled it down to peak through them.

You were still sitting in bed in your Löded Diper t-shirt, trying to catch up on what he assumed to be late homework.

He had truly fooled himself into thinking things could go back to normal. You had always been one of the guys— an honorable member of Löded Diper, you were practically the manager at this point. You had both grown up together and probably spent more time with each other than with your own respective siblings.

It’s been five days, he should be past this by now.

But he wasn’t.

Instead he started to notice all the things that made you a girl— an actual breathing girl that wanted to talk to him.

He had never noticed just how girlish your laugh was, it typically ended with a snort to which he would always scrunch his nose at but as it turned out the melodic laughter that preceded those snorts was actually quite… cute— in a way.

Even the simple gesture of you brushing your hair back behind your ear had made— what was the saying? Well, whatever it was it made him feel like moths were chewing at his stomach lining.

Or even—

“Rodrick!”

His blinds snapped shut upon removing his fingers, “I’m coming!” He called back in annoyance before stomping downstairs.

Making his way into the dining room, he found his family had already started eating without him— not that he really gave a shit. He wordlessly plopped down in his seat and picked up his fork.

He stabbed the meat on his plate and took a bite out of it, not bothering to cut it, instead opting to let the rest hang off the fork.

His mom had served chicken francese tonight.

Chicken francese was your favorite.

Rodrick grimaced— even chicken was making him think of you.

”What? You don’t like it?” Susan asked with a huff at Rodrick’s reaction.

”What? No—“

”No I don’t want to hear it. If you don’t like it that much then you might as well take it to (Y/N). At least she appreciates my cooking.”

“I can go over to (Y/N)’s? Even though I’m grounded?” He suddenly asked with a mouth full of food and an eagerness that was making Frank raise his eyebrow. He looked about ready to jump out of his seat and run out the front door.

“No!” Susan snapped, affronted, “Eat your dinner. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Rodrick seemed to deflate, picking up the fork he had dropped onto his plate and taking another bite.

A silence fell over the family, the sounds of metal scratching against ceramic and chewing filling the space.

That was until Frank cleared his throat, “So, uh, speaking of (Y/N)…” Rodrick’s head snapped up towards his father in terror, and he shifted nervously… there was no way he actually knew what had happened right? “You two seem closer…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Rodrick glanced at Greg who started snickering— did he know something? Did he tell their dad he had seen you naked? Or maybe that he caught him peeping on you through his blinds before?

He kicked him hard under the table, making the plates and cutlery rattle atop the table.

“Ow!” Greg cried.

”Rodrick!” Susan reprimanded.

”We’ve always been close,” Rodrick answered, ignoring his mom, “Everyone knows that,” he said with an awkward laugh.

”Yeah, but l mean recently—“

”Recently what? Nothing’s changed recently, everything’s the same,” he rambled, scratching the back of his ear with a blush he prayed no one saw.

”Okay, look,” Frank lowered his voice, leaning towards his son, “I wanted to have this conversation in private but your mother—“

”(Y/N) is like family so I think this should be discussed as a family.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, he glanced at Greg who looked like it was Christmas morning.

”Are you and (Y/N) dating?” Susan asked.

Greg immediately started laughing.

”What? No—“ he looked back and forth between his parents, “It’s (Y/N)— that would be gross, y’know, ew—“ he spluttered, though not as convincingly as he would have a week ago.

”Are you sure?” Frank asked— he clearly wasn’t buying it. “Because your mother brought up a good point the other day. Did something happen between you two over the summer when you went on vacation with your friends?”

Okay, now he was confused.

”Huh?”

“Because it’s okay if it did,” Susan interjected, “We all love (Y/N), right Greg?”

”Yeah, I guess,” he grumbled with a shrug, stabbing his own chicken.

”Nothing happened on vacation,” Rodrick answered honestly— why would they even think that?

”You’re sure?” Frank asked, “Because you two seem to be a lot closer since that trip.”

Rodrick had to disagree. Nothing happened on that trip. It was mainly spent at Ben’s family’s lake house where you all spent every night getting drunk and every morning hungover. And sure maybe he learned a lot about you and his other friends during that trip as everyone had loose lips due to the alcohol— and okay maybe there was that one really drunken night you and Rodrick ended up getting stuck in the bathroom because the door got jammed but neither of you could remember that night anyway, it was mostly the morning when you both woke up cuddling in the bathtub that—

Rodrick’s face flushed with the memory.

And that had never happened before, but now the thought of you cuddled up to him with nothing more than a few layers of clothing separating the two of you…— and now he was thinking about you naked again.

Frank looked to Susan at his reaction. It seemed he was getting somewhere.

”Rodrick?” He questioned, trying to get his son to look at him.

His eyes snapped to his father’s as his mouth gaped like a fish, he suddenly shot out of his chair.

”God— what’s with the third degree! We’re just friends” He exclaimed, shrilly, grabbing his dinner and fork, “I plead the fifth!” He was then running back upstairs to his room, leaving his family in stunned silence.

Susan nodded, sure of herself now, “Frank, I think it’s time you had the talk with him—“

”Uh, can I go?” Greg asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

”No, finish your dinner.”

”But Rodrick left—“

”He’s going through a lot of emotions right now, you’ll understand when you’re his age,” she turned back to her husband.

”I’m pretty sure the school gives those talks now, honey,” Frank said uncomfortably.

”Yes, but it’s different when it’s coming from the parents. It might actually be best if we talked to her parents as well and sat the two of them down all together.”

Frank stared at his wife in utter shock… the ideas this woman comes up with…

* * * *

Rodrick ran upstairs, slamming his door shut before landing on his bed and shoveling the food on his plate into his mouth with a sneer as his parents words chirped endlessly in his head.

You and him have always been close, there was zero change in that after that trip. They were just delusional.

Just like there was zero change in your relationship after he saw you naked. Like yeah, maybe he did want to see you naked again but that wasn’t any indication that your relationship changed—

There was a tap at his window.

He dropped his plate on top of his bed, getting green beans and sauce all over his blankets, before practically stumbling over his own two feet to get the blinds up.

There you were, sitting on your roof with a handful of thumbs tacks that you used to throw at his window.

You jumped at his abruptness, hand already poised to throw another thumb tack.

He opened his window, “What?”

You ignored his odd behavior, he was always a weirdo anyways.

“Bill invited us to go hang in his basement.”

”But I’m grounded.”

”So?” You scoffed.

”Right now? My family’s still up.”

”We can sneak out in like an hour then,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m going whether or not you’re coming.”

”Alright fine,” he hissed, “We can go in an hour.”

”Nice.”

After an hour of waiting and listening to his family get ready for bed from downstairs, Rodrick threw on a hoodie and slipped his sneakers on, and found himself climbing out of his window and onto the roof.

You hadn’t been far behind, not bothering to change out of your pajama shorts and Löded Diper t-shirt, instead adding your own sneakers and a zip up.

Rodrick climbed down the tree between your windows before you did, grabbing onto your waist and helping you down the rest of the way like he has many times before.

But his hands had never burned at the touch before.

”Okay, let’s go,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging him towards your car.

He stared at your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Have you two always touched this much?

His cheeks felt like they were on fire from all the blood rushing to his head.

Rushing into the car you slammed your doors shut and turned it on, before peeling out of the spot you were parked in in front of your house and down the street.

On the way to Bill’s you almost crashed twice, which was less than usual so you considered it a pretty decent drive.

Parking in front of Bill’s you went to the side door that led straight into the basement he lived in.

His parents must have been out because they always hated when he invited you guys over— something about Bill hanging out with high schoolers not being appropriate.

You skipped down the steps with Rodrick in tow.

”Hello losers!” You greeted, making the others say their own hello’s.

Ben lit up, “Hello, legs,” he said in awe, seeing your bare legs descend the steps before seeing the rest of you.

”Ew,” you rolled your eyes, jumping on Bill’s couch, kicking your feet up on the coffee table, reaching over for the open bag of chips by your feet.

Bill had been laying in his bed while Ben and Chris sat on the floor playing some card game.

Rodrick sat beside you, reaching a hand into the chip bag you offered him.

”So what are we doing?” Rodrick asked.

Bill shrugged, “Dunno. I was bored and my family’s out.”

”So you invited us to be bored with you?” You asked, raising a brow.

”Nooo,” he dragged out, “I invited you to entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes, standing back up and making your way to his mini fridge, “Got any beers?” You asked, pulling the door open. Your eyes lit up as they landed on his stash.

Turns out he only had beer.

You took one out and cracked it open, you grabbed another and tossed it to Rodrick to which he fumbled with a couple times before catching it.

”You didn’t tell us you had beer,” Ben said excitedly, scrambling from his spot on the ground and grabbing the two beers for him and Chris you handed him.

”You saw me drinking for the last hour,” Bill furrowed his eyebrows.

”So how’s the grounding going?” Chris called over his shoulder, taking his drink from Ben as he sat back down.

You took a swig of your own, plopping back down besides Rodrick.

”Well I’m here right now so I’d say it’s going pretty great,” he muttered.

”Susan’s been micromanaging him all week,” you also answered, “So we probably only have about an hour before she goes to check on him.”

”That blows,” Bill said, “Hey,” he suddenly said, getting an idea, “Maybe you should try getting grounded less.”

”Yeah, I’ll work right on that.”

The next fifteen minutes were filled with idle chit chat about the band and a couple parties that were coming up.

“Again?” Ben scoffed, throwing his cards down. “This is rigged,” He got up from his game.

”Or maybe you just suck,” Chris laughed, grinning as he won yet again, sprawling out on the floor as it seemed they were done for the night, but not before taking a drink of his beer.

Ben made his way over to you, squeezing himself in the tight space between you and the arm rest of the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, scooching over towards Rodrick a bit.

”Soooo,” Ben said, dragging the word out.

”Yesss,” you mimicked.

”I saw you talking to Heather Hills today, what was that about?”

”Oh that?” You scoffed, “I have to work with her on some stupid project. She was telling me I have to pull my own weight on it because she’s not risking a bad grade because ‘I don’t take shit seriously’ or whatever she said— but I don’t exactly see that Princess studying and working hard either so I don’t think she has any right talking to me like that. Glass stones, y’know.”

”Uh-huh,” Ben said, clearly ignoring your rant, “So you’ll be seeing and talking to her regularly?”

”I guess so, we’re working on it in class.”

”Any chance my name can come up in these talks?”

Oh right, that’s where this was going, cause every fucking male in this goddamn school had a hard on for the brat.

“Slim to none,” you answered, “Besides, I promised Rodrick here,” you slapped his knee, making him jump at the touch to which you ignored, “That I’d wingman for him if the opportunity ever came up.”

”He doesn’t mind! Right Rodrick!” He leaned over you to look at his best friend. He didn’t respond, “Rodrick?” He followed Rodrick’s gaze right to your legs, “Hey! Are you staring at my girl!?”

You scoffed, pushing his head back, and moving away from him and towards Rodrick, “How are you already drunk? Knock it off with that ‘my girl’ crap.”

”He was staring at you! Why am I getting yelled at!?”

”I wasn’t staring!” Rodrick yelped, voice cracking a red blush covering his face.

You looked back and forth between the two boys before standing up, your mood souring, “I’m gonna go pee, both of you cool it with the testosterone or I’m leaving.” You grumbled, marching out of the basement and to the bathroom upstairs. The one in Bill’s room was disgusting.

“What’s up with you,” Ben asked, looking at Rodrick peculiarly, “Why the fuck are you so red?”

”God— it’s nothing,” he grunted, “It’s a sunburn.”

”Bullshit,” Chris called out, “You’re blushing!”

“Oh I see,” Bill said with a laugh, “He’s finally coming around to (Y/N). Don’t see her as one of the boys anymore, do ya?”

”Will all of you just shut up,” Rodrick snapped, “I don’t like her like that.”

”No one said anything about liking anybody.”

“But now we’re all thinking you do,” Ben said, raising a brow before an idea popped in his head, shooting up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at him, “Something happened between you two!” A wide grin stretched across his face.

Bill and Chris were sitting up now.

”I knew it!” Bill laughed, “You two follow each other around like dogs.”

”What happened?” Chris pressed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck— he knows he shouldn’t say anything—

“I saw her naked,” he blurted, his own mouth out of his control.

Well fuck—

Chris and Bill shot to their feet as well, with exclamations on all three of his friends lips.

“How!?”

”When!?”

”Did you have sex!?”

”She forgot to close her blinds a few nights ago.”

Why won’t he shut up.

He guessed it was only a matter of time he’d eventually explode with this information as it was getting harder and harder each day to put it behind him.

”Is she hot!?” Chris exclaimed.

All Rodrick could do was nod guiltily as he continued to divulge more and more information.

All of them cheered again, Ben and Chris practically tackling him as they clapped his back and ruffled his hair in praise.

”What was she doing? Getting changed?”

“She came out of the shower and was dancing to whatever music she was listening to while looking for her pajamas.” Starting to grin slightly at the praise he was receiving.

Ben fell to his knees at that, “So you saw,” he swallowed, “Her,” he gestured to his chest area, “Jiggling?”

”Yeah,” he said breathlessly at the memory.

”Does she know?” Bill asked.

”We made direct eye contact.”

”What’d she do?” Chris now asked.

”As soon as our eyes met we both kinda screamed and I ran out of my room. But we talked it over the next day and everything’s all good.”

”Everything was all good.”

All four guys snapped their sights towards the staircase where you stood with your arms crossed.

”Really Rodrick?” You scoffed, clearly hurt. “What the fuck?”

”(Y/N)!” He stood up now. “I— uh,” he struggled to find the words.

You looked to each of your ‘friends’. “You’re all fucking assholes. Especially you Rodrick, have fun walking home.”

With that all four watched you climb the rest of the stairs before slamming the door shut behind you.

Rodrick groaned.

”Shit.”

————————————————————————

Part 3 Coming Soon…

Taglist: @maggiecc @corpsebridenightamare @simpingforthe80s @werewolf-witchboy @brunnetteiwik @athenalive @exploringalaxiesfarfaraway @momokosthings

#Rodrick Heffley #rodrick #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #devon bostick #Devon bositck x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid fanfic

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selineram3421 · 3 months ago

Text

⯅ or 🔼 or ⚠️

You're Off-key

Part 2

Part 1

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ some book of bill spoils, swearing, blood, mentions of dead body, everyone is aged up, haha boy bands, mention of board games ⚠

Ohmyglobohmyglobohmyglobohmyglob! You thought as the golf cart got closer to the roadside attraction.

Then you saw a familiar goat eating a tin can, and then it turns to look at you.

Very on brand Gompers. You thought before going back to panicking again. OK BUT WHAT DO I DO NOW!?

As you continued to think of answers to multiple questions they might ask, the golf cart stopped and the two brown haired twins hopped out and stood next to you to help you out.

"Careful, we don't want you passing out again.", Dipper says and picks up your backpack, then holds a hand out for you.

"Pshh! Move over!", Mabel pushes her brother to the side. "I'm helping them! I wanna know more about our new mysterious friend!"

"Mabel! They are hurt, we have to help them down carefully!"

"Well, we need to get them into the shack quickly to bandage their still bleeding head! Have you seen the golf cart seat!? The top is all bloody!"

"Wait, what?", you say as the two continue arguing and turn around to see the top of the seat that was behind your head.

Sure enough, there is blood.

"Oh, ew.", you say and get off the cart yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I can walk on my own."

After you take a step, you immediately almost fall and the two react fast, holding you up by your arm, one on each.

Weak.

"Ok, maybe I'm not as fine as I thought.", you laugh.

"What do you mean? We thought-", Mabel began.

"HEY MABEL! Didn't you have some juice in the freezer? If you don't get it out now you'll have to wait for it to unfreeze!", Dipper says quickly.

"OH MY GOSH YOU'RE RIGHT!", his sister says and pushes your weight onto her brother before rushing inside. "I'M COMING MABEL JUICE!"

Ow, my ears...

"Sorry about that.", he apologizes and walks you into the shack. "Mabel can say some random things and I didn't want her talking your ear off haha."

You are led into the kitchen and are seated on one of the yellow chairs near the table. After he walks off, you take in the cool air conditioning inside the house and sigh.

Maybe this isn't as bad as I thought? You leaned forward and rest your arms on the table before resting your head on your arms.

"DIPPER! WHY DO I SEE YOU DRAGGING A DEAD BODY ON THE SECURITY CAMERAS!?"

Did you really look that bad?

"They aren't dead Grunkle Stan!", the twin says back to the older generation twin.

"Do I have blood on my face?", you mumble to yourself.

Dipper turns back to you with gauze. "Uh, yeah? It's not that bad though.", he says smiling nervously.

I look like a dead body for sure. You sigh but don't call him out on his bluff.

"Ok Dipper.", you smile back.

As he starts to clean off some blood, Mabel then comes back from...you don't know where with an empty pitcher that has left over glitter and plastic dinosaurs in the bottom.

"I forgot to offer.", she says.

"That's fine. I still have water in my backpack.", you say.

Gauze is now starting to be wrapped around your head, then you hear someone else walk into the kitchen.

"Ok dudes, who bled on the golf cart? Cuz the cops are outside wondering if it's hot sauce.", the man, the legend, Soos asks wearing the Mr. Mystery suit.

"Soos!", Mabel says and goes over to the man after putting the pitcher in the sink. "We picked up a bleeding person that we found in the woods! AND LOOK!", she then gestures to you as Dipper finishes tying the bandage off. "They are wearing a cool sweater!"

A sweater? You look down and indeed find yourself in a zip up sweater. Ugh..no wonder it was so damn hot outside. Taking off your sweater to tie around your waist, you keep an ear perked to hear their conversation.

"Whoa, are they like a magical person?", Soos asks.

"MmMhm.", Mabel shrugs her shoulders. "We could always find out."

Nope! You stand up and then wobbly sit back down. Maybe I shouldn't get up yet.

"You ok?", Dipper asks.

"Yeah, I just wanted to get my water bottle from my backpack.", you come up with quickly.

"Oh, let me.", he says and picks up your pack and sets it on the table.

"So...", Mabel says sliding over. "Do you like boy bands?"

"Not the time-"

"Actually I do.", you respond. "I like the Front-road Guys."

"Well, do I have a story to tell!", she smiles widely.

"Oh boy..", her twin sighs.

You don't know what you started.

⯅

"Sometimes we'll still see them scampering around the woods and eating out our trash.", Mabel says as she finishes telling you about the boy band clone story.

"Wow, ok.", you say, shocked because she told you more details than what the show revealed. "That's crazy."

"Yeah, that was fun.", she smiles.

You've been introduced to Soos, and then you were given a small tour after the twins made sure you wouldn't wobble like a baby deer anymore. Now you were walking to meet the Grunkle.

I was sure the older twins were on a boat. Did they come back for the summer? That's nice. You thought and found Stan sitting in front of the t.v. wearing his house clothes.

Which is just an undershirt, boxers, and slippers.

The old man turns after Mabel says. "HI GRUNKLE STAN!"

"Who's the mummy?", he points at you and drinks from the pitt-cola can in his hand.

"The one who you thought was a dead body.", you say before the twins next to you can speak.

"Ha! Good to see you're not dead.", Stan says before turning back to watch a rerun episode of Ducktective.

Then they have you wait for something..

You're not quite sure and they sit you down at the table where the card games and some family meetings were held from what you saw in the episodes, still in the living room.

The back of your head still hurt, not bleeding from the recent check ups Mabel has been giving you but it still felt like your head was stuffed with cotton and your hearing was kinda going to shit too. You don't know how many times you've asked either twin to repeat themselves.

Maybe a nap would be good.

"And we brought them back here!", you hear Mabel say, probably going to introduce you to some other character person.

"Exactly where in the woods did you find them?", a familiar voice says.

Oh shit! It's Ford! FUCK!

You do your best to keep a straight face as you see them enter the room.

Shit. Fuck. Shit shit FUCK!

Then the author of the journals is standing in front of you with a small flashlight.

"Hello, I'm Ford. My niece and nephew probably already told you about me.", he says and kneels slightly to get to your eye level. "I'm going to run a series of tests to see how severe your concussion is."

"Oh, ok.", you reply as calmly as you could.

"Follow this flashlight with your eyes.", he says and moves it left to right.

You do so, this scenario reminding you of doctor tests that you've done once after getting hit in the head with a soccer ball during P.E.

Then the six fingered man turns the flashlight on to see how your pupils react.

Woop! Woooo.. Woop! Woooo...

You make sound effects in your head as you dilate and constrict your pupils.

Maybe I do need to take that nap...

"Sorry.", you blink and look at Ford. "I think I'm just super tired."

"Hmm..", the old twin hums and puts the flashlight away. "It's too late to go to the clinic now, why don't you stay in a spare room?", he says as he stands up.

Huh?

"Oh my gosh!", Mabel smiles wide and places her hands on her cheeks. "It's a sleepover!!"

HUH?

"It's not a sleepover Mabel, they are just staying here until the clinic opens.", Dipper sighs.

HUH!?

"Please no loud music that'll burst eardrums. I don't think it would help.", Ford says and begins to walk away towards the gift shop door.

WHAT THE FUCK!?

"WAIT!", you stand up quickly and lean on the table with your hand for support. "Why let me stay?", you ask, specifically to Ford.

The man looks over his shoulder, glasses glinting from a light coming from the t.v.

"I'm a random person they-", you gesture to the younger twins. "found in the woods and know nothing about me! Frankly, if it were me, I would watch that random person like a hawk!"

You're honestly afraid. You don't know how things will turn out. Ford will do anything to protect the twins, same with Stan.

"If you were dangerous, you wouldn't be able to get too far with that head injury.", Ford replies. "You'll need to change your bandages in the morning.", he finishes and leaves the room.

He..has a point.

All you do is slowly sit back down and sigh.

I'm so tired.

"Sooo...", Mabel says as she walks over to you. "Wanna play board games?"

Well, at least the family doesn't find me as a threat. Which is good.

"Got anything stress inducing?", you smile.

You're pretty sure they still have that board game that's like Jumanji.

01000111 01101111 01101101 01110000 01100101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110100 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @gxstiess @lynkolnevans @fries11 @+?

👁️

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

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jetii · 4 months ago

Text

Infinite Possibilities of the Universe

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader

Words: 9,466

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, grief/death/mourning, brief description of anxiety attack/autistic meltdown, reader is referred to as Sarad

Summary: You fell on Kaller, and Tech is the only one who can't let you go. But he knows what the others don't: you're alive, and you're coming back to him. All he has to do is be patient.

A/N: This is sad right up until the end I'm sorry. Thank you @baddest-batchers for the prompt!

Dantooine’s sun shone down on the fields, glinting off of the armor and helmets of the Batch as they relaxed in the afternoon rays. Wrecker and Omega had run off a few hours ago to go find some animal or another, so it was just the boys and a few crates of spare parts that needed to be sorted and put away.

They were in no hurry, and so Hunter and Echo took up a spot by one of the few Blba trees around for miles and started going through the boxes, pulling out pieces that they could repair and reuse, setting aside what needed to be scrapped. It was mindless work, and so it wasn't long before they started up a game of saigok to pass the time.

Tech, as always, was holed up inside the Marauder. The rest of the squad could hear him tinkering around in there, and had learned to tune out the quiet sounds of clinking and clicking from inside.

This time, though, Echo heard the quiet murmur of his voice, and glanced over at Hunter.

The Sergeant was leaning back against the tree, arms folded and legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed as he basked in the sunlight. He looked perfectly at peace, but Echo knew that he was very much aware of everything that was going on around him.

And yet he hadn’t said anything.

Echo frowned and turned to look over his shoulder, but all he could see was the open ramp of the Marauder, the top of which was hidden by a row of tall, green plants.

He turned back to his game with Hunter, trying to concentrate on the board and the pieces, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was amiss.

It didn't take him long to lose his second piece. Hunter, ever the tactician, didn't comment on it, and so the two played on, both lost in their own thoughts until Echo couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

"Do you think Tech's alright?"

Hunter opened his eyes, looking at Echo. His expression didn't change, but he sat up straighter. “I'm sure he's fine."

Echo wasn't convinced. "He's been up there for a while. I don't think I've ever seen him this quiet."

Hunter shrugged. "He's probably tinkering with his new project, the one he keeps in his bunk."

"But—“

"I can hear him talking," Hunter interrupted, closing his eyes again. "He's just not talking to us. You know he does that sometimes."

“That's not the point." Echo looked back over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of whatever Tech was doing. "Something doesn't feel right."

Hunter was quiet for a moment, and then let out a sigh. “He’s talking to her.”

"Who? Omega?"

"No."

Echo thought back over the past months. He'd overheard Tech muttering to himself several times, but it was never about a her, as far as he could tell. Then it hit him.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But she's—“

"I know," Hunter said. He sighed again and shifted, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back against the trunk. “But that's how Tech copes. He talks to her. She's not gone, not for him."

Echo wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and so he didn't. Instead, he got to his feet and headed over to the Marauder.

Inside the cockpit, he could see the back of Tech's head as he sat in the pilot's seat. The door was open, and so Echo didn't feel the need to announce his presence. He walked down the hall, listening closely.

"—and the power converters in the shield generators have been giving me trouble lately. I'll need to do a more thorough investigation soon."

Echo ducked next to the wall of the cockpit, listening. Tech was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little softer.

"You would love this planet, Sarad. There are hundreds of new species of creatures and flora to document. It's very beautiful here. You would enjoy the sunshine."

Echo felt a sharp pain in his chest. It wasn't just his mechanical parts, though those often ached with phantom pains, especially when it rained. This pain was different, and it made him pause. Your loss had hit them all hard, and even now, months later, he could feel the lingering effects.

Tech had taken it the hardest. Your relationship hadn't been a secret, and he'd spent nearly every waking hour with you when he could. And then...

Don't, he told himself, pushing the memories away. Just don't.

But he couldn't stop himself from looking up, his gaze landing on the little shelf that hung above Tech's bunk. On it among the scattered parts and tools sat a little model ship, a small clay flower, and a holo-pic.

It was a photo of the six of them, back on Coruscant, when things had been simpler. You were sitting on a crate, legs crossed, hands on your knees, a grin on your face. The others were gathered around you, and you couldn't tell by their smiles how much you had begged and pleaded with them to sit still for five minutes.

"What's the point of taking a holo-pic if we aren't going to smile?"

"A holo-pic isn't worth the hassle."

"Come on, it'll be fun! Tech, come here. I want you to be in it, too."

"But I'm busy."

"Please? For me?"

"...Very well."

Tech wasn't even looking at the camera, he was too busy watching you.

You had noticed, and you had reached over and gently nudged his arm, and the holo-pic captured the moment perfectly.

After the click of the camera you had jumped to your feet, excitedly showing off your own copy. Tech had tried to act indifferent, but Echo had noticed him looking at it often, and more than once had caught him smiling softly as he did so.

It had been Omega who suggested that the photo be added to the little shelf, despite never knowing you. And after a little persuasion from the rest of the crew, Tech had finally relented.

And now the picture was tucked into a frame next to the little clay flower you had made, the ship hanging above it. They were the only two things on the shelf that didn't belong to Tech, and they were the two things that Echo had never seen him without.

Echo hadn't thought much about it, but the memory was suddenly crystal clear. Tech, his arm around your waist, a soft smile on his face. The look in his gaze was unmistakable.

He loved you.

And now he was never going to see you again.

Echo looked away, swallowing the lump that rose in his throat. He didn't want to intrude any more than he already was, and so he retreated back down the ramp.

When he got back to the tree, Hunter had abandoned their game and was now sitting cross legged, elbows resting on his knees. He watched Echo approach and raised his eyebrows.

"Well?"

Echo sighed and sat down. "You were right."

"What did he say?"

Echo looked down, picking up a loose twig and turning it over in his hands. "Just...talking to her. About what they would do, if she was here."

Hunter didn't reply, and so Echo continued, "She'd like it here. It's peaceful. No wars."

He could feel Hunter's eyes on him, but kept his own eyes on the twig, running his thumb over the smooth bark.

"He's still waiting for her."

"I know."

Echo sighed. He hated not knowing what to do, especially when it came to Tech. "I wish he would talk to us about it. She's been gone for nearly four months. You'd think he would have let her go by now."

Hunter shook his head. "You and I both know that he's not going to let her go. Not as long as there's a chance she's still out there."

"But there isn't a chance," Echo pointed out, "He saw her fall, didn't he?"

"That's not what he believes."

"Why not?"

"You know why not," Hunter replied. "She was the only person who saw the galaxy the same way he did. They understood each other, and not in the way that we do."

"So what, we just let him go on thinking that she might still be out there? It's not good for him, you have to know that."

Hunter didn't respond right away.

"Tech knows what he's doing," he said finally. "If he wants our help, he'll ask for it. For now, we have to respect his boundaries. And that means no talking about her, not even in passing. If Tech wants to think that she's still out there, then that's what we have to let him believe. That's how he copes."

Echo wasn't thrilled, but he didn't want to go against Hunter's wishes, and so he stayed silent. He turned his attention back to the box of spare parts, and for a while the two of them worked in silence. But every once in a while, Echo would glance up at the Marauder and the tiny figure that was hunched over the navicomputer.

He knew that Hunter was right. There wasn't much that he could do to help. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Tech stared at the datapad in his hand, but his mind wasn't really on the screen. Instead, his thoughts were turned towards the planet outside and the sun-soaked fields that he had left his brothers in. He knew that it was a beautiful day, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and go out there.

Not while Sarad wasn't with him.

His fingers tightened around the edges of the datapad, knuckles turning white. A sudden surge of anger coursed through him, and he wanted nothing more than to hurl the datapad across the cockpit, but he managed to reign it in and set the device down on the console, his grip still tight.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much, having to spend this day alone. The anniversary of your first meeting had never seemed like a big deal to him before. Of course, that was because you had been there. Now, though, with nothing but empty space between him and the rest of the galaxy, he had never felt so isolated.

He had been trying to distract himself, but none of his usual tinkering projects could hold his attention. Nothing seemed to be able to block out the emptiness, and his anger.

Tech had never liked anger. It was messy, unorganized, and dangerous. It had been a long time since he had last felt the full force of his anger, but now it was back, and it was worse than before.

Because, unlike before, his anger was mixed with grief.

You had talked about it once, when you were lying in his bunk, curled up against each other, your head tucked against his neck, fingers tracing absent patterns over his chest.

"What would you do, if something happened to me?"

He had frowned, not understanding why you would ask him such a thing. "Nothing will happen to you."

"Just pretend," you'd insisted. "If I were gone, what would you do?"

He had tried to imagine it, and the thought had sent a chill down his spine. He had never felt that way about someone before, and the thought of losing you was too terrible to even consider.

"I'd find you," he'd said.

"But what if you couldn't?"

"That is not possible. There is no place that you could go that I would not follow. Even if we were separated by the entire galaxy, I would still find a way."

"Tech, come on. Pretend with me. If you couldn't find me, and you thought I was gone, what would you do?"

He had considered your words for a moment, then answered, "I would keep looking. You wouldn't leave me. Not without telling me first."

You had lifted your head, a small, sad smile on your lips. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

The look in your eyes was indecipherable. "You can't know that. There are no guarantees, Tech. If I'm gone, then I'm gone. I'm part of the living Force, and eventually I'll return. You can't stay stuck on me. You'll have to move on, one way or another."

He hadn't liked that idea. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of her being gone.

"No."

"Tech..."

"No," he'd said, more firmly this time. "You wouldn't leave. You wouldn't. And I will always find you."

Your eyes were shining, and he didn't understand.

"Why are you talking about this?" he'd asked. "There's no reason for you to leave. You'll stay with us."

"You don't know that. There's a war, Tech, anything could happen."

"No."

"But—"

"We are not talking about this anymore." He'd said, cutting you off. He couldn't bear to think about it, and he was beginning to feel uneasy. You were the first person who had ever cared about him, and the idea of losing you was unfathomable.

"But—"

"Stop," he'd said, more harshly than he'd meant to.

You'd stopped, staring at him. Then, slowly, your head had lowered, and you'd pressed your face against his neck again.

"I'm sorry," you'd said quietly.

"It's alright," he'd replied, feeling bad about the way he had snapped at you. He hadn't meant to get angry, but the thought of losing you was terrifying. He needed you.

You'd pulled yourself closer, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as tightly as you could. He'd hugged you back, and the two of you had laid there together, and eventually, you had fallen asleep.

Tech lied awake that night, staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine what it would be like if you were gone.

He hadn't been able to do it.

And yet, here he was, barely keeping a tight grip on his emotions, the ache in his chest threatening to consume him.

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

Tech had always tried to accept things as they were. It was easier, and he had never found it worth the effort to question his reality. Sarad, though, had been different.

Sarad had never accepted the world as it was. You had never allowed yourself to settle for things that were. And so you had changed everything, just by being there. But now you were gone. And so the galaxy, and his life, had returned to its previous state.

Tech's eyes burned, but he was able to keep the tears at bay. It was the same way that he had done every day since you fall.

It isn't fair, he thought again. It isn't fair.

If only you were here, Sarad. You could fix this. You could fix anything.

His thoughts drifted back to his brothers, who were undoubtedly wondering what was wrong with him. He knew that they had questions, but they would never ask him. They had an unspoken agreement to never talk about you, and while he appreciated their respect, he couldn't help but wish that they would break it, just this once.

Then maybe he wouldn't have to sit here alone, the cockpit cold and dark around him, as he tried to keep his anger under control.

Sarad would have known what to do.

A memory surfaced, and for the first time in months, he let it come.

It had been early in the morning, and they had been on an unknown planet, waiting for a storm to pass before they could leave. They had all been asleep, except for Sarad, who had decided to go outside to get some air. You had asked him if he wanted to come with you, and so the two of you had stepped outside into the cool darkness.

The storm clouds had blocked out the stars and the moonlight, and it was pitch black outside. You had held onto his arm, and he had kept a hand on the blaster at his hip, as neither of them could see more than a few feet in front of them. And when you were far enough away from camp, you stopped.

"Isn't it amazing?"

Tech had looked at you. "What is?"

"The universe," you said, staring up at the sky. "All the planets, and the stars, and the endless possibilities."

"It's certainly a vast place," Tech had replied, "but what exactly makes it amazing?"

"The fact that it exists."

"Many things exist. Most people wouldn't find that particularly exciting."

"True," you had said. "But it's different when it comes to the universe."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I suppose I could compare it to an individual," you had mused, "If you had lived your whole life knowing only the inside of one small house, and then suddenly you found out that there was a whole galaxy beyond it, wouldn't you be excited to see the stars?"

"I would be curious, yes."

"I feel the same way, but with the universe. Every time I look up at the stars, I know that there are millions of other planets, with thousands of other species. The sheer chance of a person like me existing in a place like this is astounding. So many things have had to go just right, and even then, the probability of my being here, now, is almost infinitesimal."

"The chances of a life such as ours are incredibly slim," Tech had agreed.

"I think that's what makes it special."

"What do you mean?"

"The universe is infinite," you had explained, "So the chances of my ever meeting someone from another part of the galaxy are infinitesimally small. But because the universe is infinite, that means that there are an infinite number of possibilities. And so there's a possibility that we could meet, that we could work together. The chances are so slim that they're practically nonexistent, but the possibilities are infinite."

"I don't know that I would have ever thought about it that way."

"Well, then, maybe we could explore the infinite possibilities of the universe together," you had suggested with a shrug of your shoulder. "It'll be fun. Just the two of us."

"And what if our infinite possibilities are limited to the confines of a single ship?"

"That would be fine," you had told him, smiling. "As long as we're together, then it doesn't matter where we go."

The memory ended there, and Tech blinked, realizing that his vision was blurry. A single tear had escaped his control, and he reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

He missed you.

There were so many things that he wanted to say, so many words that had never been said. There was so much that you had left unfinished, so many plans and ideas that you had yet to accomplish, and now he feared it was too late.

Tech turned his focus back to his datapad, scrolling through the files. He stopped on one in particular, and for a moment, just looked at it.

Then he hit play.

It was a video, recorded shortly after his brothers had left you alone for the night. He hadn't been sure why he had made it at the time, but looking back now, he could see the reason. He had wanted to remember you.

The video began to play, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched you, bathed in the pale light of the computer, eyes shining as you spoke. You looked at the camera, and for a moment, Tech felt as though you were looking straight at him.

He couldn't hear the words, not anymore. But he knew them by heart, and so his mouth moved silently as he watched the recording, committing every moment, every gesture, every expression to memory.

“What are you doing?” Sarad asked, looking at the camera.

Tech had shifted, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.

"Just...recording."

"Recording what?"

"This," he had answered, gesturing around him. It hadn’t been a very good answer, and you had laughed.

"Why?"

"To...to document our trip."

"That sounds very scientific."

"It is."

"Well, I don't really understand," you had replied, "But I suppose you could always explain it to me later."

"I'll have to. I'm sure you'll have plenty of questions."

"Then you'll have to tell me everything," you had said. "And don't leave anything out. I want to know every detail."

"That will take quite a while."

"Then we'll just have to spend a lot of time together."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Perhaps," you had replied. Then, smiling, "Yes, I suppose it is. I would like to spend a lot of time with you, Tech."

"Then perhaps I will tell you," he had said.

You had smiled, and he had smiled back.

"I look forward to it."

When the video ended, he started it again, watching the familiar image, memorizing the way your hands moved and the curve of your smile and the brightness of your eyes. He watched it until his eyes burned, and then he watched it once more.

And when the pain became too much, and the anger rose up and threatened to overwhelm him, he played it again, and again, and again.

And eventually, the pain subsided, and the anger was pushed aside, and all he felt was you.

"I look forward to it," the recording said.

"I do, too," Tech murmured.

“You’ll have to tell me everything.”

"Then we'll just have to spend a lot of time together."

He could see the love in your eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t even considered the possibility. But looking back now, the memory of your love was so clear, and it took his breath away.

"Yes, I suppose it is. I would like to spend a lot of time with you, Tech."

He watched the video once more, and when it was over, he closed the tab and stared at his reflection in the blank screen.

He could still feel the anger, but it had lessened, and was no longer directed at the universe. It was, instead, aimed at himself.

You should have known, he thought, his fingers tightening around the edges of the datapad. You should have seen the signs. You should have said something.

It isn’t a logical thought. He couldn’t have known what would happen on Kaller and everything that followed, and he had had no reason to believe that anything would change.

And yet, his mind was convinced that he had missed something, that he could have prevented you from ever leaving his side.

It isn't logical, but he still feels it.

Slowly, his grip on the datapad eased, and he turned his attention back to his reflection. He saw his eyes were rimmed with red, and his hair was tousled from where he had run his hands through it.

Sarad would have liked that.

You would have teased him for his messy hair, and then you would have smoothed it out and laughed. You would have been the only person he would have let do something like that.

His hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax.

It will pass, he told himself. It will pass. I will see her again. It will pass.

He repeated the phrase over and over in his mind, letting the words fill him and block out the anger. He had lost you, but you weren't gone. Not forever.

There, buried in the scores of data files and programs that made up his datapad, was the last message he received from you. Dated nearly three months ago, it was heavily encrypted, and he’d required a cypher to unlock it.

Inside, there was a simple message:

"I'm safe, and I'm alive. I'll find you again. No matter what happens, I love you. Sarad."

Tech had spent the first month after Kaller trying to decipher the message. It had taken him days, but when he finally figured it out, the words had been like a lifeline. There were no coordinates, and no indication of where you had gone. All Tech had was your promise, and his belief that you would always keep your word. He knew that the message was a risk, but you had known that he would never stop looking, and so you had sent him something to hold on to, and it had been enough.

He had held onto your words since, keeping them close to his heart. He had read the message hundreds of times, and had never gotten tired of it. And whenever he felt lost, or alone, or angry, he would read it once more, and allow the words to guide him back.

They were a promise, and so he would wait.

He would wait, and when you came back to him, he would be ready. He would never let you go.

Then, as the sun began to set outside, he put the datapad aside and looked up. Outside the window, the stars were beginning to appear. And, he thought, if his infinite possibilities were limited to the confines of a single ship, then he would spend the rest of his life traveling with you.

And so he turned the lights off and sat in the dark, the stars reflecting in his goggles as he gazed out at the galaxy.

And he waited.

Tech waited until the others had fallen asleep before settling into the cockpit. He didn't want any distractions, just as he didn’t want his brothers to worry. They would, though, even without him saying a word. They were good at that.

He didn’t mind, though. He only wished he could tell them the truth. But it wasn’t his secret to share. They wouldn’t believe him anyway, he knew, and so it was better this way.

So, when the lights were out and the engines had quieted, he slipped away from the bunks and down the hall, taking his place at the pilot's seat.

He sat down and leaned back, getting comfortable before he took out his datapad and typed in the code. A single message appeared on the screen, and Tech read it one more time, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

"I'm safe, and I'm alive. I'll find you again. No matter what happens, I love you. Sarad."

Satisfied, he closed the message and lifted his hand to the recording device on his goggles, and started a new file.

"Hello Sarad. Today, we logged a total of 17 hours in hyperspace, which brings our total log to 18,802 hours. The others have grown tired of counting, but I have continued the process. In fact, I believe we will be able to exceed 20,000 hours by the end of the year."

Tech paused, and then took a deep breath.

"There isn't much to report today, and so I have decided to share a few memories. First, I would like to remind you of the time we were stranded on Mygeeto, when we got lost in the mountains and spent three days trying to find our way back to the others."

Tech smiled, remembering the snow and the cold and the laughter. It was the first time the two of them had ever argued, but by the end of it, they were laughing so hard she could barely walk.

"I recall that I had told you several times to wear warmer clothing," he went on, "but you had insisted that the extra layers would hinder your movement. I am pleased to report that you eventually listened, although not until the second day, and the result was that you had to wear half of my gear and could hardly move without assistance."

He smiled at the memory, and then continued, detailing the various mishaps and misadventures of that mission. “You didn't mind, though, and you even thanked me. I have never heard anyone thank me for being right before, but I suppose there's a first time for everything."

He paused, and his voice grew quiet.

"You were the first to admit that you had been wrong, and the first to apologize. That was something else that I hadn't experienced before. Your apology was accepted, of course. I never held the incident against you, and I have never been able to be mad at you for more than a few minutes. That hasn't changed, either."

Tech sighed and adjusted his glasses.

"We're almost to our destination. The others are asleep, and the ship is quiet. I know you would enjoy the peace and quiet. There's no sound quite like the hum of the engines, and the silence of space."

He fell silent, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He took another breath, and his next words were spoken almost reverently.

"I miss you, Sarad. I hope you are well. I know that you will contact me when you are ready, and I am confident that it will be soon. But until then, I will keep the record, and I will share it with you when you return. For now, though, I will wait.

"I love you, Sarad. And I will see you soon."

And, his eyes fixed on the stars outside, he reached up and switched off the recording.

For a while, he just sat there, staring out the window at the stars. They blurred, and he blinked, the tears gathering on his eyelashes. He wiped them away, and then looked down at his hands. They were still shaking, and he curled them into fists, trying to stop the tremors.

Eventually, the shaking stopped, and Tech looked up at the stars again. He didn't know why he was shaking, or why his hands were sweating, or why his throat felt so tight.

Perhaps it is because I am afraid, he thought.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it was true.

He was afraid, because he didn't know when, or even if, you would contact him again. He didn't know if he would see you again. And even if he did, he didn't know what would happen.

So many questions, and so few answers.

He was used to working with facts, but he was finding that this situation was lacking. And that meant that he didn't know what would happen.

It was frightening, the not knowing.

Tech was used to being in control. It was his job, as the technician and navigator of the team. He had to know how to fix things, and when to do it, and where. But he had no control over you, and no control over the galaxy, and no control over the future.

And that scared him.

But then, suddenly, he remembered something you had said to him, long ago, on a different planet and a different day.

You'd asked him about a strange phenomena occurring on the horizon, and he had floundered in his answer. The best he could ascertain, it was some sort of magnetic field, caused by a large mass of rock below the surface. He hadn’t been certain, and it had bothered him.

He had been frustrated, but you had only smiled and placed a hand on his arm.

"That's okay," you'd told him. "It doesn't have to have an explanation. It can just be. If we try to figure out the cause of everything, we won't have time to enjoy it.”

He had tried to argue, but had eventually given in.

"Besides," you'd added, "I'd rather spend time with you, and not on finding the answer.”

Your words had surprised him, and for a moment, he hadn’t been able to respond.

"You...want to spend time with me?"

"Of course I do," you had replied.

"But...why?"

"Because I love you."

He'd been speechless.

"Oh," he'd said.

You'd laughed, and he had been able to do nothing but stand there and stare at you.

"I'm sorry," you had said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no," he had managed. "It's...I'm fine. Just...you..."

"Love you?"

"Yes."

"I do."

"Oh."

Tech had had no idea how to respond. The words didn't seem real. But when you had smiled, and reached for his hand, he had finally begun to understand.

"I'm sorry," you had apologized again. "I've wanted to say that for a while, but I wasn't sure how. I thought that you would find it odd."

“You are odd, yes," he had agreed, "but not in the way you think."

"What do you mean?"

"I find you to be odd in a pleasant way," he had explained. "You're...different. In a good way."

"That's very poetic, coming from you."

"I was not being poetic," he had corrected you. "I was simply stating the truth."

Sarad had laughed again. "So what is it, then?"

"You are unique," he had told you. "There is no one else like you. You are an anomaly, and a rare one at that. I am glad to have met you."

You had been quiet for a moment.

"I'm glad, too," you had said.

And then you had kissed him, and he had felt something new and exciting and wonderful.

"I love you," you had murmured.

He had been unable to say the words back, but he had known that he would say them one day. And, after that, every day.

And so he had kissed you, and the two of you had watched the lightshow together, and it had been perfect.

Tech looked up at the stars now, remembering the way the sky had glowed, and the warmth of your hand on his arm.

That was where his memory ended. But the words came back to him, and he found himself repeating them.

"I love you," he whispered.

The words seemed small and insignificant compared to the vastness of space, and the galaxy, and all the planets and stars beyond. But they were real, and they were true, and that was all that mattered.

They were real, and so were you.

And the not knowing was terrifying, but Tech was patient. He would wait, and he would see you again. And the words would mean more then, because he would be able to say them, and you would hear them, and everything would be alright.

Tech believed in the infinite possibilities of the universe, and this was his.

This was his, and so he would wait, and he would remember, and he would know that the words were true, and someday, he would say them to you again.

Every day, Tech waited for a signal.

And every day, there was nothing.

His patience began to wane, and every time the Marauder made a stop, he would search the area for a sign, a clue, anything that would lead him to you. But he never found anything, and he would have to go back to the ship empty-handed.

His recordings to you were becoming short, and less frequent. He couldn't hide the bitterness and disappointment from his voice, and so he recorded fewer messages.

He didn't know why you hadn't contacted him. Maybe it was because you didn't want to.

But no. You loved him.

He didn't want to consider the alternative.

You loved him. You wouldn't have left him.

Would you?

He didn't know, and that scared him.

What if you didn't want to see him? What if you had found someone else?

What if you had realized that you were better off without him?

No.

You loved him. You would never leave him. Not forever.

And yet, he was beginning to wonder.

What if it had been a mistake? What if he had been wrong, and you weren't safe, or alive?

No.

You were alive. You had to be.

And yet, as the days wore on, he found himself doubting.

The distance between them was supposed to keep her safe, but maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe something had happened. Maybe you had changed your mind.

He tried to reassure himself. You were a capable Jedi, and if anyone could handle themselves in the face of danger, it was you.

But the longer you were gone, the harder it was to convince himself that you were still alive.

It didn't help that he hadn't received a single message since that first one. He'd had no word, no hint of your location, or condition, or state of mind.

It was frustrating, and he hated it.

He hated the waiting, and the uncertainty.

And so, as the months went by, and the number of his messages began to dwindle, his doubt grew. Much had changed in his life in the last months. They’d stopped fighting, stopped running, and had moved on to a new place to call home.

They had moved on, and so had he.

Well, most of him.

Some part of him was still waiting, and some part of him was still looking for a sign, for a message, for anything that would let him know that you were alive.

And, as the months went by, he realized that this wasn't going to change.

So he recorded one final message.

"Hello, Sarad. I know that this will be the last recording I make, as I am unsure when, or if, you will ever return. But I want to assure you that I am doing well, and so are my brothers.

"We are settled on a planet called Pabu, and we are all enjoying the peace and quiet. I know that you would enjoy the atmosphere here, as well. The sunsets are particularly beautiful, and I can't help but wonder if you have seen any yourself."

He paused, his throat constricting slightly.

"I miss you," he said quietly. "But I hope that you are happy, wherever you are. I know that it isn't fair of me to ask, and I don't expect an answer, but I do wish you would tell me.

"Tell me if you are safe. Tell me if you are well. Tell me if you have forgotten me. Please, Sarad, just tell me something. Anything."

He was quiet for a moment, and then shook his head.

"But you won't answer, will you? And you won't tell me. And so I will have to move on. It is the logical thing to do, and I am certain that it will benefit me greatly."

Tech fell silent again. His throat felt dry, and his eyes were burning. He didn't know why, but it was getting hard to breathe.

"I want to apologize," he continued, "for being so impatient. And I want to tell you that I don't blame you, and that I still care for you, and that I understand if you have chosen to forget me. But I want to thank you for the time we spent together. It was an experience unlike any other, and I am grateful for it. I will not forget you, Sarad. I hope that you will not forget me."

Tech's hands were trembling, and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"I hope you are well. And, if we never meet again, I wish you luck. I wish you happiness. And, most of all, I wish you peace."

Tech paused, and then, in a small voice, added:

"I love you."

The last message uploaded to his datapad, and Tech stared down at the file, his heart aching. He could feel the tears beginning to fall, and he wiped them away angrily.

Why was he crying? There was no reason to.

But still, the tears continued, and Tech let them come. He would cry for Sarad, and for the life that he would never have with you. He would cry for the love that he had lost, and the pain that he had endured, and the hope that had slowly died inside him.

And, when his tears were spent, he would close the file, and he would put his emotions aside, and he would move on.

He would have to.

Because that was the logical thing to do.

Tech looked up, and the stars were blurred by the tears. He blinked, and the image cleared.

He would have to move on.

He would have to, but not yet.

His finger hovered over the message, and then he pressed delete.

The file disappeared, and Tech watched the screen for a moment, the only sound the beating of his own heart.

He would have to move on, but not yet.

Not tonight.

Not while the sky was so full of stars. Not while the night was so quiet, and the wind so gentle, and the grass so soft beneath his feet.

Not while the memories were so clear.

Tech leaned back against the cool metal of the ship, his eyes fixed on the stars, and he let his thoughts drift.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, and the way you had touched him, and the way you had loved him. He remembered the way your hair had shone in the starlight, and the way your hands had felt against his skin. He remembered the way your lips had tasted, and the way your arms had held him, and the way your laughter had sounded, so sweet and joyful and free.

And he remembered the way the moonlight had danced across your features, and the way the breeze had ruffled your hair, and the way your smile had made him feel alive.

Tech closed his eyes, and let the memories wash over him.

And for a moment, just one brief, shining moment, the darkness was filled with starlight.

The day started like any other.

Tech woke up at the same time, dressed, and made his way to the kitchen, where Hunter was already making breakfast. He sat down at the table, and began scrolling through the daily news on his datapad, searching for anything of interest.

"Anything interesting happen yesterday?" Hunter asked, placing a plate of food in front of him.

"Not much," Tech replied, taking a bite of his breakfast. "A few minor scuffles, and a large cargo transport crash. It seems that the pilot was intoxicated, and he managed to take out half a block."

"Sounds fun," Hunter replied dryly. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual," Tech replied.

Hunter hummed in acknowledgement, and then asked, "How about last night? Did you stay up late recording more of those messages?"

Tech hesitated. He hadn't told Hunter about the messages, or any of his brothers. He assumed they knew, but they couldn’t know their purpose, and so he had kept the messages private.

"Yes," he finally answered. "I did."

"How many do you have now?"

"A few," Tech answered, his tone noncommittal.

"How many is a few?"

"Several."

"Dozens?"

"Yes." He twisted his mouth. “Hundreds.”

"Have you ever thought about sharing them?"

"No," Tech answered immediately.

"Why not?"

"Because they're private," Tech replied, his voice a little sharper than intended. “Because they're for her, and only her."

Hunter sighed, and Tech could feel the disappointment in the sound. He knew that his brother didn't understand his actions, but Tech didn't need him to. He knew what he was doing.

"You're still waiting, then."

"Yes."

"Tech, it's been over a year," Hunter said quietly. "She's gone."

"She's not gone," Tech replied, his grip on his fork tightening.

"Tech," Hunter repeated, his voice firmer.

His fork clattered against the plate, and Tech pushed his chair back, standing up.

"She's not dead," he snapped, his hand curling into a fist. "She's alive. She has to be."

"Tech, please," Hunter pleaded. "Don't go. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," Tech shot back. "And I don't need you to tell me what to do. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a message to record."

He rounded the table, brushing past his brother. But as he did, Hunter reached out and caught his arm. Tech glared at him, but Hunter didn't flinch. He just looked at him, and Tech felt his anger falter.

"Vod," Hunter said, his voice low. "Please. She's not coming back. And these recordings are just going to make things worse. "I know it's hard, but you have to let her go."

"I will," Tech replied. "But not today."

"Tech..."

"No," Tech cut him off. He pulled his arm from Hunter's grip and straightened his shoulders. "I won't do it."

"Tech, please," Hunter said. "I just want you to be happy."

"I will," Tech replied, his voice tight. "But not today."

"Alright, Tech." Hunter sighed and stepped back, his hand falling to his side. "Alright. Not today."

"Thank you," he managed. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I will see you at dinner, I assume."

"Of course," Hunter replied, his voice equally quiet.

Tech left the kitchen and made his way back to his room, ignoring the stares of Wrecker and Omega as he passed. He was sure they would ask Hunter about his outburst, and he was sure that Hunter would tell them. He didn't care. Let them talk. They didn't know anything.

He knew that they thought he was delusional. That he was clinging to false hope. That he was denying reality. And maybe they were right. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't just give up. Not when there was a chance, no matter how small, that he would see you again. And until that chance was gone, he would continue to wait.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Tech dropped onto his bed, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His leg bounced restlessly at his side, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.

It was too loud, too bright, too much.

He needed to calm down. He needed to focus.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, on the sound of his heartbeat, on the feeling of the sheets beneath his fingers. You had helped him practice this exercise before, and he could remember the way you had guided him, your voice soft and gentle as you sat next to him on the floor of the cockpit.

Tech inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, slowly, letting his breath out in a long, steady stream. The sound of his breathing filled the room, and he felt himself relax. He continued the exercise, repeating the motions until his heart rate had slowed, and his breathing had evened out

He could still feel the anger, but it was lessening. He could still hear the voices of his brothers, but they were becoming muffled. He could still see the sunlight filtering through the window, but the glare was beginning to fade.

He breathed, and the world around him settled. He felt drained, and he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He was supposed to see you again. You were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to be safe.

You weren't supposed to be gone.

Tech didn't move for a long time, and when he finally did, it was only to get up and check his datapad. He had no new messages, and so he placed it on the nightstand and turned away.

The day dragged on, and Tech did his best to keep himself occupied. He tinkered with his new projects, cleaned the kitchen, and reorganized his storage of supplies. He didn’t speak at dinner, and no one commented. By the time evening rolled around, he was exhausted, and he found himself back in his room, alone with his thoughts.

He didn't know what to do, and so he sat on his bed, the datapad in his hands, and waited.

The day had been uneventful, and the hours had passed slowly. The sun had set, and the stars had come out, and still, he had no answers.

It was late now, and he was tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. Not with the anger and frustration and hurt gnawing at his heart.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way, and it only made him angrier.

He wanted answers, but there were none.

There were no messages, no clues, no sign of you.

Just the stars, and the darkness, and the silence.

Tech sighed, and placed the datapad on the nightstand once more. He resigned himself to another sleepless night, and was about to turn out his light when a hard knock pounded on his door.

Tech jolted upright, his heart leaping in his chest. He hadn't expected anyone, and for a moment, he could only sit there, his mind racing.

The door swung open, and Wrecker came barreling in. The force of the door hitting the wall sent a shower of dust raining down from the ceiling, and Tech held his breath as he saw Sarad's clay flower teeter on its perch.

"Tech!" Wrecker bellowed.

"Wrecker, keep it down," Tech hissed, leaping forward to steady the flower. "The others are asleep."

“You need to come outside. Now."

"What?" Tech turned, the flower in his hands. "Why?"

"Just come," Wrecker replied.

"Fine," Tech sighed, carefully placing the flower back on the shelf. As soon as it was back in its place, Wrecker wrapped a hand around his arm and dragged him from the room.

"Wrecker," Tech protested. "Let me go."

"Sorry, can't do that," Wrecker replied, practically shoving him down the hall.

They were nearly at the front door when Hunter and Omega appeared, their eyes wide and hair messy.

"What's going on?" Tech asked, trying and failing to pry his brother's hand off his arm.

"Echo just landed," Hunter replied. "He says there's something we need to see."

Tech’s brow furrowed in confusion. They hadn’t been expecting Echo to return for several weeks, and he had no idea what could be so urgent.

"What is it?"

"He wouldn't say," Hunter replied. "But he sounded pretty shaken."

Tech felt a twinge of worry. Echo wasn't the type to overreact, and if he was acting strangely, there was probably a good reason.

"Then we should hurry," Tech said, his voice tense.

"Right," Hunter replied. "Come on."

They followed Hunter out the door, and up the path that led to the landing pad. They didn't speak, and Tech was glad. He didn't think he would be able to carry a conversation right now. The village was dark, and the streets were empty. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps as they hurried along.

Finally, they reached the landing pad, and Tech saw the outline of the Remora in the distance, its lights glowing softly.

As they approached, Echo strode down the ramp, his face drawn and pale.

"Hey," Hunter said, his voice worried. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Echo replied, his voice shaky. "I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Echo said, his voice trembling slightly. "But I think you should see this."

He gestured to the ship, and Tech and his brothers stepped forward, following Echo up the ramp.

The inside of the Remora was dimly lit, and Tech squinted, trying to make out the details. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that there was someone sitting in the navigator's chair.

"Echo, what—“

His question died in his throat as the figure turned around, and Tech felt the world tilt beneath his feet.

It was you.

You were here.

You were alive.

Your name came out as a strangled cry, and he stumbled towards you, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear his brothers calling out behind him, their voices distant and muted. He barely registered their words, or their presence, or anything other than the sight of you in front of him.

You were real.

"Sarad," he breathed.

Your lips curled into a smile, and you reached out, your hand resting gently on his cheek. Your touch was warm, and soft, and familiar, and he felt the tears spring to his eyes.

"My love," you whispered, and he closed his eyes, allowing the sound of your voice to wash over him. It was music, and joy, and home, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

"Sarad," he murmured, leaning into your touch.

"I'm here," you replied softly. He felt the tears spilling over, and you wiped them away gently.

"You're here," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

"Tech." You said his name like a prayer, and he opened his eyes, gazing at you. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He didn't reply. Instead, he closed the distance between you, and his arms were around you before he even realized what he was doing. He pulled you to him, his grip tightening as he felt the solid warmth of your body. You were here. You were real.

"You're here," he breathed, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "You're alive."

"Yes." Your voice shook, and your arms tightened around him. "I'm here. I'm alive."

He held you for a moment longer, and then drew back, his hands cupping your face. He studied your features, taking in the sight of you. You looked tired, but there was no mistaking the warmth and affection in your gaze.

“You changed your hair," he said, running a hand through the short strands. The words came out hoarse and broken, and he swallowed thickly, trying to regain control.

"Yeah," you murmured, your fingers curling around his wrist.

"It suits you," he said. He was having a hard time forming complete sentences. He wanted to say so many things, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You laughed, the sound weak and breathless, but it was a laugh, and Tech found himself smiling.

"Tech, I'm sorry," you said, your voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to contact you. I couldn't—“

"It's alright," Tech said, his voice quiet. "It's okay. You're here now."

"I missed you," you said, tears welling in your eyes.

"I missed you too," he replied, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “I can't believe you're here. I didn't think—"

He broke off, his voice faltering.

"You're really here," he whispered.

"Yes," you replied, your hand curling around his.

"I was so afraid," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought...I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm sorry," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't care," Tech said, his voice steadying. "I don't care about the past. All that matters is that you're here. You're alive. You're home."

"Home," you repeated, your eyes meeting his. "That sounds nice."

He kissed you then, and he felt your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He poured every ounce of love and longing and joy into the kiss, and when you finally drew back, both of you were breathless.

"I love you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

"I didn't say it enough." Tech's voice was thick with emotion.

"That's okay," you said, a smile spreading across your lips. "I knew."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I should have said it. Every day."

"You can start now," you said, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

"I love you," he breathed. "So much."

"I love you, too," you said, tears welling in your eyes.

Tech drew you into another kiss, and this one was softer, more tender. It was a promise, and a vow, and a declaration of love, and when he pulled back, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Your eyes were bright with tears, and your lips were trembling, but you were alive. You were here, and you were safe. And he loved you so much, it was like a physical ache.

"Don't cry," he murmured, brushing them away.

"I'm sorry," you laughed weakly. "I just can't believe it. I never thought...I'm just so happy. So, so happy."

"I am too," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "So happy. And I have so much to tell you. So much has happened. But...there is time for that later. For now, I just want to be here. With you."

"Yes," you whispered. "I'd like that."

You leaned in, resting your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. And, as you clung to him, and the tears began to fall, Tech couldn’t help but be grateful for the infinite possibilities of the universe, and the chance it had given him to be with you again.

Taglist: @covert1ntrovert @bruh-myguy-what @spicy-clones @arctrooper69 @qvnthesia @heidnspeak @Kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @baddest-batchers @cw80831 @lovelytech9902

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #roy writes #i think i got everyone on the taglist this time #but if i didnt pls fill out my new form on my masterlist #i wasnt sure if some of you only wanted to be tagged for the cross fic or all of them

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harrysfolklore · 8 months ago

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Harry Styles Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED

this was posted on my patreon a few months ago, enjoy ! MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hi I'm Harry Styles and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview."

Harry introduced himself to the camera and you smiled, you were currently at WIRED Studios for Harry's long awaited autocomplete interview that he finally agreed to do thanks to yours and his fans persistence.

You were sitting behind the camera with the rest of the crew, watching him with a small smile.

A crew member passed the first board to him, he looked at it confusedly for a minute before speaking.

"Okay so. I'm answering what I think or what?"

Everyone in the studio laughed and the director quickly explained to him how the game worked once again, you rolled your eyes with affection and he sent a wink your way.

"Alright, how is Harry Styles?" he said after taking the little piece of paper off the board, "I'm good, I'm really enjoying being home in London, I was away for a while on tour and I'm going to stay here for a bit so that's exciting."

"How did Harry Styles," he paused to rip the next paper and reveal the rest of the question, "Become famous? Well, when I was sixteen years old I auditioned for a singing show called The X Factor, I got put in a band with four lads and we didn't win but we put out a song called What Makes You Beautiful," he smiled for a second, "that one put us on the map, we released a bunch of albums and now I'm here."

"How did Harry Styles meet his wife?" at this, he turned his gaze to you to give you a big smile, you immediately mirrored his and nodded your head, signaling that you were okay with him talking about it.

"We could say that it was basically a blind date, we had a friend in common who thought we would be a good match and set us up, we had an amazing first date but then I had to travel to Los Angeles for work so we couldn't really see each other after that but once I was back in London we hung out all the time, and now we're married."

He smiled at you again and you couldn't help but feel your heart melt, you had been married for 6 months now but the married life was still new for the both of you, and everything he called you his wife butterflies made its way to your stomach.

"How is Harry Styles still alive?" his eyes widened in surprise and he looked around the room, making a few present laugh, "Um, that's a weird thing to search on the internet, but I guess, I don't know if I can answer that, I don't think anyone can answer that we're just lucky to still be around and enjoy life."

He gave the camera one of his infamous "frog smiles" and handed the board to a crew member who was ready with the next one.

"Does Harry Styles have tattoos?" he revealed the first question of the new board, "Yes, he does. I have a lot of tattoos actually, they're basically all over my body. The most recent one is right here," he pointed at the back of his right arm, "It's my wedding date, actually, everyone might call me a sap but I was reserving this arm for tattoos about my wife a and future kids, so I guess it's finally time to fill it."

It was safe to say that fans watching at home and everyone in the studio absolutely melted, especially you.

"Does Harry Styles have siblings? I do I have a sister, she's older than me and her name is Gemma. A lot of people claim she's cooler than me for some reason but I don't thing that's true," he shrugged and revealed the next question, "Does Harry Styles speak Italian? I would like to think that I do, I spend a lot of time there and I've learned how to communicate pretty decently."

"Is Harry Styles an actor?" he said after peeling the first sticker of the new board, "He tries to be an actor that's for sure," he laughed and everyone in the room did as well, "I mean, I've been in a couple of movies, I've auditioned for a bunch of roles and my agent has sent me scripts to go through," he shrugged "So I can say that makes me an actor."

"Is Harry Styles american?" he shook his head at that one, "He is not! He's Britain, born and raised okay? He's very proud of it."

"What's Harry Styles BeReal? I don't have a BeReal, but if I did I wouldn't tell you," he pointed to the camera jokingly, "What are Harry Styles fans called? I think they are referred to as Harries, but I don't like to speak on behalf of them, you should ask them."

"What was Harry Styles first song? My first song was Sign Of The Times, I wrote it with friends that I love, and that is my wife's favorite song I've ever written, right love?"

"That's correct." you said from your spot, pretty audible so you know it would make it to the final cut of the interview.

"What are Harry Styles songs about?" he peeled the last sticker of the board, "They're about a lot of things, life, friends, love, my wife," he shrugged, "I even have one about the female orgasm."

You quietly giggled, knowing that his fans would go crazy over that last sentence.

"Did Harry Styles go to college? He did not, he became a singer."

"Did Harry Styles win a Grammy? He somehow won Album Of The Year last year, which is absolutely insane if you ask him."

"Did Harry Styles finish high school? Oh I'm glad the internet asks," he laughed, "Contrary to popular belief I did finish high school, I completed my GCES and I graduated, I don't know why there's a rumor there that I didn't finish high school tho."

"Anyway, last one!" he comically threw the board to the floor and grabbed the final board a crew member was handling him, "Who is Harry Styles best friend? Um, I have a ton of best friends. Jeff who's also my manager, Mitch who plays in my band, my childhood best friend's name is Johnny, so yeah, I'm very lucky in the friends department, I love my friends."

"Who does Harry Styles look like? My mom, I would say. A lot of people point out that we have the same smile," he shrugged, "My mom is a beautiful woman so I'm flattered."

"Who did Harry Styles write Love Of My Life about? My wife and London."

"And final question," he slowly peeled off the sticker for dramatic effect, "Who does Harry Styles love? Okay, that's cute that people search for that on the internet, um, I love my family and friends, I love my wife that's for sure, I love making music and performing," he listed with his fingers, "And love love, yeah, love is great."

He smiled to the camera and put the board aside to say his goodbyes.

"I thought my Google searches were much more appropriate that I expected. I was fun to see what people wonder about me, so yeah thank you WIRED for having me."

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ynnova · 2 months ago

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( KISS KISS. ) wooyoung x ninth member!f!reader ✶ poly!ateez

──── you and wooyoung spend time together on the way to paris.

september 2024 ୨୧ word count : 989 ୨୧ warnings : making out ୨୧ mdni

"you look so pretty," wooyoung's voice is hot against your ear as he whispers the words to you. you can't help but smile, a shy laugh leaving your lips as wooyoung links his fingers with yours.

the two of you are hidden away from the prying eyes of the public and wooyoung takes full advantage of it. wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest as he presses a kiss to your neck. "you dress up just for me?"

"these are just my normal clothes, woo," you tell him, swatting his wandering hands away from straying too far south.

"could have fooled me, baby. when did you get these jeans?" he asked, tracing a finger along the pattern of your pants.

"i got them back in japan, cute aren't they?" you tell him and he lets out a 'hm' sound as his finger continues to run down your leg before coming back up again.

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. wooyoung uses his free hand to pull out his phone and you watch him pull his camera up before he's holding it out in front of the two of you. you immediately smile with him as he takes a few selfies of the two of you. for his last picture, wooyoung presses his cheek right up against yours (something you and the others are not unfamiliar with) and so you just give him a tight smile as he takes his pictures.

wooyoung of course makes sure to press a wet kiss to your cheek and you let out an 'ugh!' before lightly pushing him away from you. your boyfriend lets out a laugh at your reaction before he's putting his phone away.

"i hate when you do that," you tell him, wiping away the remainder of the kiss as you let him pull you back to him. "so gross."

"don't call my love gross," he says as you rest your head on his shoulder. the two of you once again sit in silence, you listening to the sounds of the other people in the airport as wooyoung gets out his phone once more to play a game. you both still had some time before you had to board the plane for paris.

"do you know what you're wearing yet?" wooyoung asked, breaking the silence.

"not completely, they told unnie they would have options for me to pick from when i get to my hotel," you tell him.

"is hongjoong going to that show too?"

"i'm not sure. i know he told me he would love to go with me, telling me that i've corrupted him with all the vivienne westwood i've been buying and wearing," you say with a small laugh as you think about your older boyfriend and captain.

“are you guys going to hangout together before you come home?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“if he wants to, he hasn’t said anything to me, so only time will tell i guess,” you say before closing your eyes. you know you should probably not fall asleep now or else trying to do so later on the plane will be a nightmare. but you can’t help it. not when wooyoung is so comfortable.

by the time the plane took off, you were about ready to doze off as you rested against wooyoung. your boyfriend held you close to him, his hand moving softly down your back and relaxing you.

"your hair's gotten so long, woo," you mumble softly as you reach over and play with his hair that he's been growing out for the past few months.

"do you like it more than hyung's?" he asks, referring to seonghwa and his own hair that he's been growing out. you can't help but laugh at how jealous wooyoung seems to be over whose hair you like more.

"i like both yours and hwa's hair evenly," you tell him and wooyoung lets out an annoyed huff at your answer.

"that was a safe answer, babe," he mumbles before his hands grab at your hips playfully. you let out a small gasp at the ticklish feeling, pulling away from wooyoung who is wearing a mischievous grin on his lips. you can't help but pout at him before watching him cup your face with both his hands. "don't pout, babe, you're too pretty for that."

"whatever," you say as he pulls you closer to him, his forehead against yours. you see wooyoung's eyes dart down to your lips before moving back up to your eyes. "just kiss me if you're going to," you tell him and wooyoung wastes no time in crashing his lips against yours. noses bumping against each other, but neither of you really care.

you're honestly thankful for the privacy that first-class gets because any other time and you would have had to wait till you got to the hotel. you rest your hands on wooyoung's shoulders as one of his goes to cradle the back of your head, slightly messing up the bun you had work so hard to put it in this morning.

oh well, guess you can try to fix it later.

when wooyoung pulls away from the kiss he makes sure to press another one to the corner of your lips.

“you should stay at my hotel tonight,” he says against your lips, as if ready to kiss them again, while one of his hands finds yours. his fingers fiddle with your team ring that rests on your ring finger. “we can order food and watch a movie, take a bath — i heard my hotel has a big bathtub we can use.”

“that's sounds nice. it’s been awhile since we took a bath together,” you say and wooyoung agrees softly. he kisses you one last time before the two of you fall asleep for the rest of the plane ride to paris.

note: sorry if this was a little rushed, i haven't wrote anything in months so i'm trying to get back in the grove. i also wrote this one before the hongjoong one lol so that's why this is shorter than that one! thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

#✶ 𓂃 ⋆* 𝓎𝓃. ୨୧ writing.#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez added member #ateez addition #ateez blurbs #poly ateez x reader #ateez extra member #ateez 9th member #ateez ninth member #idol!reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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Don't Say I Didn't Warn You | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Overstimulation

Chapter Summary | Another day, another thing to tick off your list. This time, Joel issues a challenge, which of of you will break first? Him, or you at the mercy of his hands and mouth?

Chapter Warnings | Again and as usual, this is porn without much plot, oral sex (f), fingering, sex toys, squirting, unprotected PiV sex, overstimulation (clearly), crying after sex, dirty talking, pet names (baby), aftercare, no outbreak au, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.1K

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | We are officially halfway through the checklist - this one was a bit of a challenge, but I hope you love it as much as I do. If you do enjoy this, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“How many times d’ya think I could make you come before you couldn’t take it anymore?”

The question makes you splutter out your morning coffee, coughing a little to clear your throat.

“Joel, it's nine in the morning, can you let me at least drink some caffeine first?”

He’s laughing, in that deep way, straight from his chest that makes your heart swell, leaning up against his kitchen counter with his own coffee mug moving to his lips.

“Just curious, is all.” He smiles, head tilting to the little cork board on the kitchen wall, where he’s pinned the checklist.

“How many times do you think you can make me come before you get bored and want to fuck me?” You counter with a shrug.

He raises an eyebrow as he sips loudly from him mug, “You’ll be beggin’ me to stop before I break, baby, and you know it.”

He’s not wrong. You know what you’re like, even if you like to think you can talk a big game. Joel has never been anything other than focused on your pleasure, and normally, he can give you two or three, with some breaks in between, before you’re trying to crawl away from him, so you know he’s right.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out then, won’t we?”

It’s late and you’re perched in bed, book resting on your knees, when Joel comes in from the bathroom. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, his back to you so you can admire the way his back muscles ripple as he moves. You turn your eyes back to the pages in front of you before he can catch you watching him. He lets out a little groan when he gets into bed, shuffling a little under the sheets to get himself comfortable.

You’re turning the page when you feel his wide palm slip over your abdomen over the sheer fabric of the nightdress you’re wearing, his body turning to rest on his side. He leans up, pressing his lips just behind your ear, his thumb running softly over the fabric, hitching the material a little further up your thighs as he goes.

“Can I help you?” You murmur, thumb folding the corner of your page so you can shut the book and put it on your nightstand.

“You wear this on purpose?” He asks, hand moving from your tummy to play with the thin spaghetti straps resting on your shoulder, “You know this little thing drives me wild.”

In all honesty, it had been the first thing you’d pulled from your drawer after your shower, but he didn’t need to know that, “Maybe I did.” You speak softly, moving your head to look at him, his own eyes fixated on his hand moving from the strap, down the neckline, fingers tracing softly over your skin.

Joel’s mouth moves softly from your ear, pressing feather-light kisses across the skin of your jaw and across the expanse of your throat, “I think we should challenge you tonight, baby.”

His hand moves down the front of your nightdress, cupping one of your tits in his palm as he thumbs over your nipple through the material. The soft and gentle movements of his hand makes your breath catch in your throat and an ache settle between your thighs. You can feel him pressing his hips into your side, already half-hard in his boxers, the scruff on his face scratching deliciously over the soft skin of your jaw.

“I’m going to make you come so many times you won’t even know your own name, baby.”

His promise makes you gasp, spoken right into the shell of your ear, as he trails his hand down, further down your body, until his hand is resting on the inside of your thigh, gently prising your legs open under the sheets. Joel shuffles down under the sheets a little, leant up on one elbow, casual as anything, when he looks up at you, fingers moving slowly across the skin of your thighs until they dip under the hem of your nightdress.

Joel is cupping your sex in his palm, your body sinking further down into the bed, his body pressed flushed to your side as he quickly brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his middle finger into his mouth to wet it, before he’s putting his hand back between your thighs, that slick finger now moving slowly over your clit.

His touch is so light that you can barely feel it, but it’s there, slow, languid circles moving over you. You know now that you’re in this for the long haul, Joel’s patience is going to win out time and time again tonight. He presses his finger just a touch harder to your clit as he continues his circles, your hips bucking up into his hand at the added pressure, a whine falling from your mouth as his own moves back to your ear.

“I want you to keep count,” He breathes out, goosebumps rising across your skin, “Whenever you come, you keep count, okay?”

“I s-still think y-you’re going to b-break first.”

Your voice comes out choked and pathetic as his finger slips from your clit to your entrance to gather the slick he’s caused, dragging it back up to use to circle your clit once more.

“I think you’re wrong, baby,” He coos into your ear, hot breath skittering across your skin, “Look how close you are already.”

It’s infuriating because he’s right. You’ve spent the whole day working yourself up about the conversation this morning, dreaming of all the different ways he’s going to take you apart to prove his point. His finger is speeding up between your legs, adding more pressure as you arch your back up off the bed, pushing yourself further into his hand. Joel’s lips are pressing against your ear, the skin behind it, wherever he can put it as your body starts to shake under his touch.

Thighs trembling, pleasure blooming across your lower abdomen as the coil starts to tighten. It pulls tighter and tighter until it’s teetering on the edge of snapping.

“Please don’t stop,” You whine, “Right there, Joel, oh my god, right there, please.”

It snaps all at once, washing over every inch of your body as your hands grip onto his arm, fingernails digging into his skin, his name dropping from your mouth every few seconds whilst that perfect hand of his works you through the shaking of your body as you start to come down.

You’re vaguely aware of him pulling his hand from between your thighs and the duvet being torn from your body as he moves to settle himself between your thighs, giving you barely any time to register what’s happening before he tongue is licking, warm and wet, up the length of your pussy.

He uses his thumbs to spread you open to him, baring your glistening cunt to his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking gently against your clit. You’ve barely recovered from the first orgasm, his mouth working just like he knows you like it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, before letting it go with a lewd smack. It’s already a little too much for you. You can already feel the tightening of the coil again. It’s always easier for you to come the second time, but it never happens this quickly.

Joel pulls off you just enough to speak, “Come on, baby, come on.” He coaxes, tongue working flat across your clit, the sound of him literally slurping at your pussy the only thing you can focus on.

This one falls over you slowly, gradually, legs shaking around his shoulders, arching into him, fingers curling into his hair to hold him where he is as that feeling blooms and prickles across your skin.

“Fucking hell, Joel.” You manage to breathe out, chest heaving.

“How many?” He asks, mouth still so close to your cunt.

“T-two.”

“Too much?” He’s smirking when you look down at him between your legs.

“Not a chance, Miller.”

“Good girl.”

And then not only his mouth back over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, but two of his fingers are slipping inside you at the same time. As you cry out, you realise how empty you’d felt before, walls of your cunt clenching around nothing as he brought you to the edge and over it. You’re whining, trying to scrabble away a little, but Joel’s free hand comes to splay across your lower tummy, pressing you down into the mattress, keeping you still as his fingers curl up into you, pressing against that spot inside you as he suckles your clit into his mouth, letting it pop from between his lips, worshipping it with his tongue, before sucking it right back into his mouth again.

The clue is in the name, but it’s all so overwhelming, overstimulating. The stretch of his shoulders widening your legs, the way his mouth is just on the right side of pleasure, the short clip of pain that comes with being worked too much not yet there, and when you tip your head forward, look down over the expanse of his back, you can see his hips moving, it’s subtle, but it’s there, Joel, rutting himself into the mattress as he works you toward the edge again.

“Joel,” You whimper out, fingers still tangled in his hair, “Please, please don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare. Not when you’re so close, not when he knows it, that telltale clenching of you around his fingers, your head thrown back, mouth open, panting as you start to move your hips, meeting the upwards movements of his fingers.

You’re gritting your teeth, pulling hard on his hair as your entire body convulses the third time. You’re jerking in a way you’re not used to, just like you aren’t used to being made to come this many times in quick succession. It’s overwhelming, you can’t even bring yourself to moan, your mouth just dropped open wide, silently crying out into the air of the room as Joel finally drags his fingers and mouth from your cunt.

You bring an arm up, covering your face, sucking in heavy breaths as you feel his body moving, thinking smugly to yourself that you might have won this time, that he’s so desperate to bury himself inside you that he’s going to give up and do just that. You can feel him settle over your body, only for a moment, the bulge in his underwear brushing against your sensitive cunt. You haven’t won though because there’s the telltale sound of your bedside table opening. You drag your arm from over your eyes, watching as he reaches in, dragging out the small wand you keep in there.

He’s grinning at you, pushing himself to rest on his knees, bringing the vibrator to rest against your pussy, soaking wet and aching, but he doesn’t switch it on, mercifully.

“Are you going to give up yet?” He asks, eyebrow arched.

It would be so easy to say yes, to yield to him, to finally feel him heavy and throbbing inside you, but there’s the element of pride to it that you have to think about. Forgetting about the fire you feel settling across every inch of skin, the way there is sweat pooling across every inch of your body, and the way that even the gentle press of the silicon against the swollen folds of your pussy is proving a little difficult.

“N-no?” It comes out as a question more than anything, so you clear your throat, trying again, “No.”

He lets out a snort of breath from his nose, like he knows he’s pushing you, right to your limits and you both know it, but you’ve always been stubborn. It’s one of the reasons he loves you so much. But he’s not going to stop, not until you’re begging for it. So he presses the button, thankfully on the lowest setting, but it still causes you to jolt, to cry out in surprise as the vibrating pulses through you, centred right on your clit that is screaming at you for a break, screaming at you to stop, for him to stop.

“T-too much.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asks, smirk across his lips as he presses the button again, shifting it up a setting.

“Ohmygod,” You squeal, body thrashing about on the bed, but as usual, Joel has a hand pressed on your lower tummy, keeping you in place, “Don’t stop.”

You can’t believe it’s coming out of your mouth, but you’re teetering just on the right side of pleasure mixed with pain. Your hips are chasing the soft vibrations pulsing over your clit, revelling in the weight of Joel’s palm pressing onto your lower tummy. Your teeth are digging so hard into your bottom lip that you can taste blood, but you can feel it, that hot furl of pleasure, and you’re chasing it, running towards it, but finding it always just out of reach, no matter how much you hold your breath, pinch your eyes shut and focus on finding it.

“Faster.”

“What’s that?” Joel teases, leaning forward, his body over yours, lips pressed to your damp forehand, “Say it louder for me.”

“Faster!” You shriek, “God damn it Joel, faster.”

His fingers presses the button once more, speeding up the pulsing against your pussy, and it’s all over. You’re entire body shakes in anticipation, the actual collapse into pleasure following just behind. You can feel your cunt clenching around nothing, fluttering desperately, almost making you open your mouth to beg him to fuck you, but all that comes out when you do open your mouth is a pathetic whine, a murmur of his name over and over again, until the vibrator is pulled from your body, turned off and discarded to the side.

Joel collapses his body over yours, pressing his weight into you as he drags your arms up over your head, his fingers entwined with yours as he kisses across your face, kissing away the tears that are falling from the corners of your eyes, softly pressing his lips to the tip of your nose until he reaches your mouth, pressing his mouth to yours, once, twice, three times.

You can feel him moving his hips into your own, his cock hard and heavy behind the material of his underwear as it brushing against your swollen folds, catch ever-so-slightly on your clit as he moves. It makes you gasp against his mouth, makes you shift your hips against him.

“I know you want it baby,” He whispers against your mouth, “You want my cock, don’t you?”

His voice sounds just as desperate as the whines and whimpers coming from your mouth, his hips pressing against you, cock dragging against the wet of your pussy, finding just an ounce of friction as he presses his mouth to yours again.

“I know you want it,” He teases, “All you gotta do is say the words baby, say the words and I’ll give it to you.”

Now you’re at a crossroads. You could stand your ground, tell him to carry on, dare him to take it as far as his patience will let him, but you know you’ll be here all night if that’s the case, you’ve never met someone with the patience of Joel Miller before. Given half the chance he’d spend all night between your thighs, using his mouth or fingers to bring you over the edge until your bones were jelly and you didn’t know whether it was pleasure or pain you could feel. Or, you could tell him to do it, beg him to fuck you, get what you really want, what you always want, which is him buried impossibly deep inside you, filling you up with his cum, whispering into your ear what a good girl you are for him, and lose this self-imposed contest you’ve given yourself to outlast him.

Judging by the way that you feel like you might scream if the bulge of his cock brushes against you again, you opt to swallow your pride.

“Please,” You beg, “Please Joel, I want you inside me.”

“Good girl.”

He’s pulling back from you, pushing his boxers down just enough to free his cock, before the entire weight of him is pressing against you and he’s buried inside your cunt to the hilt. The tip of his cock is pressed so deep inside you, but he’s still, his hands squeezing your own where he’s gone back to entwining your fingers together above your head.

God, he’s so overwhelming like this. Every sense is just Joel, you can smell him, his body is under your touch, you can hear him panting into your ear as he starts sliding himself in and out of you, you can taste his mouth when he opens it against yours. Everything right now is Joel and pleasure & pain all mixed into one.

“You okay?” He asks, nose nuzzling against your ear, his thrusts shallow, so he’s slowly punching that spot deep inside you.

You squeeze his hands, in your own, leaning the side of your head into his face, so unbearably hot underneath him, but so unbearably needy too. You need more, you need him to fuck you properly.

“More,” You mumble, lifting your hips into his as he pushes back into you, “Please baby, harder.”

“You think you can take it?” He asks quietly into your ear.

“Don’t care, just want you.”

Joel’s hands let go of yours, pushing himself onto his palms, resting either side of your head. He pulls his cock all the way out of you, tip of his cock resting just inside you, then he snaps his hips back into yours, the force shifting your body up the bed a little, a cry pulled from your throat as he does the same, over and over again. Your eyes rolling back into your skull, fingers gripping at his sides, slipping round to rest against his ass, pulling him into you even more.

When you look at his face, he looks just a wrecked as you feel, sweat pooling in the dips of his collarbones, falling from the ends of the curls at the back of his neck. He hooks the backs of your knees around his arms, pushes you forward, pressing you even further into the mattress as he really pounds into you, cock stretching you so perfectly, as your name falls from his lips like a string of hail Mary’s.

“One more,” He pants out above you, “Put your hand on yourself and give yourself one more.”

“I can’t,” You cry out, feeling completely boneless and at his mercy, unable to move unless he’s manipulating your limbs, “Can’t Joel.”

“Yeah you can, baby,” He speaks, “Can feel you, gettin’ all tight around me, you can give me one more,” Then he leans forward, as much as he can with your legs hooked around his arms, pressing his mouth to the skin of your skin, “Just for me baby, one more, just for me.”

Your arm is heavy when you let it fall between the two of you. You run a gentle finger over your clit, so impossibly swollen and spent under your touch, the slick he’s pulled from you making it easier to move, but you still don’t think you can, you still think it’s too much.

“Keep goin’ baby,” Joel praises, “Just like that.”

You can feel your walls around him, sucking him in as deep as he can possibly get on each thrust of his hips, fluttering, clenching around him when your finger swipes across your clit, “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, look at you.”

And he is doing just that, when you meet his eyes, those dark brown orbs, reminiscent of coffee and chocolate, he’s looking right into yours, right into your depths, admiring the way your sweat slicked hair sticks to your forehead, the way your eyes are glassed over, the way your body has folded so perfectly at his hand as you let him take what he wants. He’s looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world. That, mixed with the praise, and the way he’s hitting you just right with his cock as you falling over the edge, screaming his name into the room as you feel yourself gush all over his cock, all over the sheets underneath you.

“Yeah baby, fuck yeah,” His voice is deep, desperate, “Look at what you did,” He drops one of your legs, puts his hand on the back of your head and tilts your neck so you’re watching as his cock spear itself into your cunt, covered in wetness, “Made such a perfect mess for me, didn’t you?”

You can’t talk, you can’t think, you can do nothing but lie there as his hips start to falter, until he’s letting go of your other leg, dragging his cock from your tight heat, furiously fisting himself until he comes across the skin of your tummy, cursing, groaning your name until every single drop of him is mixed with every drop of you.

He collapses onto the bed next to you, led on his back trying to catch your breath, in much the same way as you are, until you start crying. It starts with a wobble of your lip which you try and bite away, then, they fall from your waterline, followed by choked sobs that you can’t keep under control.

“Woah, hey, hey,” Joel is on you in seconds, pressing his warm body to your side, hand on the cheek furthest from him, pulling your face to his, thumb rubbing the tears away as they fall, “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to calm yourself down, but now his kindness is making it worse.

“Baby, you gotta talk to me,” He urges, “Was I too rough?” You shake your head, “Was it too much?” To that you nod, because it was, too much all at once.

He drags your body further into yours, pulling you into a hug, rocking you back and forth, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispers, lips kissing your cheek, “You know to use your word if its too much.”

You take another deep breath and mumble against his skin, realising he can’t hear you, “I’m just overwhelmed,” You explain, “Was fine at the time, but I’m overwhelmed now.”

The cool air of the room is prickling goosebumps against your skin, causing you to shiver, “Will you be okay here for a minute?” He asks, lips pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You nod, curling into a ball as he pads from the room, coming back moments later with a wet cloth. He turns you onto your back, uses the cloth to clean the his cum from your skin, then gently brings it down between your legs, letting it rest against your swollen pussy, the warmth soothing you a little as he cleans between your legs too.

You lie there as he puts the used cloth in the wash basket, pulling back the sheets on his side of the bed, dragging you gently over to his side, tucking you in as he rounds the bed, gets in on your side. It takes you a while to realise it’s so he’s led in the wet patch you made.

Joel runs those warm hands up and down your skin, warming you up, helping to dissipate the goosebumps, soft, open-mouth kisses pressed to every part of your skin that he can reach as he soothes you. Your eyes are heavy, you’re tired, warm, and completely spent, but most importantly, as he moves to press his front to your back, his arm over your waist, dragging you as close as you can be, you’re safe.

And the next morning, when you wake, take the pencil to written words of overstimulation on the checklist, you think perhaps that one isn’t quite for you, and that’s completely fine.

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chrissgirl4ever · 4 months ago

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GAMES - MATT x READER

Warning: SMUTT!!

Play song for the vibeee!!

Have fun!~ ;)

As I reach for the spinner, I pop up my ass, making it brush against Matt's crotch. "Right hand red, looks like I'm safe for now," I say as I turn to Matt, a smirk appearing on my lips.

"I am too drunk for this," Chris says throwing up his hands as he turns around and heads to his room. "Can you help me clean this up?" I ask Nick, and he nods kneeling down.

"Simon says, extend your hands." His voice was demanding, I brought out my hands, and he grabbed them and put them together before wrapping and tying them together with his belt.

I guess I won't be heading to Nick's room tonight.

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #Spotify

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