#i wanted to know how much i’d listened to it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

2cool4ghoul · 11 hours ago

Text

I'm on Fire

Long time no see, eh?

sorry for my prolonged period of absence, I got shit going on!!!!

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, I hope everyone enjoys, maybe it could be a two parter if people r feeling it! I haven't edited this because honestly who has time for that?

Summary: Reader asks for help with being taught hunting, gets stuck with Joel, who she thinks hates her, but we all know how that ends? Reader grew up in a cult situation where girls r taught they need to repopulate the earth after the outbreak and thinks sex is just for baby making, Joel wants to show her it could be more. I been listening to I'm on fire by bruce Springsteen and that song inspired this.

Warning: under 18 DNI! age gap not specified but allusion to it being gargantuan and ludicrously capacious, Smut, unprotected p in v (do I need to say it? WRAP IT), fingering, oral f receiving, slight daddy kink, doing it from behind, Joel is kinda mean, perv Joel, allusions to masturbation, innocence kink, religious imagery?, mentions of pregnancy, kinda public I guess, post outbreak, can be game Joel or Pedro Joel, any Joels a goal, no use of y/n, reader is female gendered, pussy pronouns, size kink if you squint, Praise kink, yearning, Joel feeling guilty and sorry for himself , boohoo, if I miss anything please tell me!!!! I love feedback!!

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

You had been walking for hours.What was meant to be a simple hunt had now turned into aimlessly walking through the forest, staring at Joels back as he stalked in front of you. He refused to admit that he had gotten the two of you lost in the midst of chasing a rabbit, or a deer, or whatever it was he says he saw. When you did suggest heading a different direction, you were met with a sharp rejection, or a grunt telling you to keep your mouth shut. You knew he was angry before you’d even left, saddled with the burden of dragging you along with him.

You didn’t particularly know Joel and you didn’t particularly like him either. His stand-offish demeanour and deep glare whenever you were around made you feel small in his presence. You had given up on the smiling and politeness that you gave everyone else in an attempt at self preservation, yet deep down you so badly wanted him to like you. You weren’t sure what you did and at what point you did it, but Joel made it very evident that he’d much rather be torn to shreds by infected, than teach you the basics of hunting. Which, with the sun becoming low and darkness threatening to spill over into the sky, you thought maybe he didn’t know the basics of hunting either.

Frustrated, you huffed whilst adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, rolling your eyes slightly as he stopped to try and grasp any familiarities in your surroundings. “What’s got you all huffy and puffy?” He quipped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at you.

“I am tired, Joel, we’ve been walking for hours now, I want to go home.” Sighing, your head fell back on your shoulders and he carried on walking.

“If I remember correctly, this was your bright idea, was it not?” His fists clenched at his side and you furrowed your brows.

“It was, when I thought I’d actually be able to learn something, I thought you were meant to be good at this-“

“I am good at this, you’re scaring ‘em all away, with your bitchin’ and moanin’” You’d obviously bruised his ego a bit there, yet the reaction you’d gotten was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

Well, that and being able to watch him closely whilst he furrowed his brow, focusing down the barrel of a gun. Laying on the ground next to him, so close that you could nearly smell the musk that seemed to radiate off of him. Yes, you didn’t particularly like him, but looking at him? You liked that very much. You liked the way his arms looked when he rolled up the sleeves of his flannels. The way he looked when he started the day, fresh out the shower with his greying hair slicked back and slightly damp. The way his voice was low when he was trying to teach you a lesson. The way he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes when you made a joke, a suggestion, or even just breathed. Seeing all of this things was enough to put a pit in your stomach, a pit that you’d been carrying around all day with little idea what to do about it. It ached and it throbbed.

“Well maybe in your old age, your losing your touch.” You said it quiet, thinking that he wouldn’t hear you. But he did. He responded with a scoff, clenching his fists again. He wasn’t even going to dignify it with a insult back, his reaction alone was enough to make you feel insufficient. You both retreated to the silence and you kept yourself to your thoughts on how you were going to deal with the ache between your thighs.

______________________________________________________________

Night had fallen and Joel had still not managed to find your way home. Instead you’d found an old shack, barely together but good enough shelter to sleep for the night. Joel figured it was tomorrow’s problem, that and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to your complaints about how tired you were.

The dim glow of the campfire lamp created a yellow cast over Joels features and you couldn’t help but stare as he sat opposite you, eating a sandwich you’d given him earlier in an attempt to lift his spirits. His features were rough and frown lines had been permanently etched into his skin. This life had worn him down, toughed him up like leather. Maybe that was why he was mean to you. Maybe he’d ran clean out of kindness. His large hands made whatever he was holding look small, they were calloused and scarred across his knuckles. You didn’t want to imagine what things those hands had done. But you did want to imagine what they could do. Running over your skin, fingertips grazing your lips, leaving goosebumps and a shiver down your spine. Grabbing at your skin, creating bruises and marks, his fingers, thick and strong, spreading you open and filling you-

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Gruff and fed up, Joels voice snapped you right out of the darkest corners of your mind, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you had obviously been staring, eyes hazed over.

“I, uh, I was looking at my sandwich, I don’t think you deserve it.” Nice save, you praised your self internally and he raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were some stupid insignificant thing.

“How come I don’t deserve it?”

“We caught nothing today, you didn’t teach me shit.” You tried your best to mimic the facial expression he was pulling, hoping that just maybe you could make him feel how he did.

“Hmm.” He grumbled after putting the last bite in his mouth. “’s'all gone now.” There was almost a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together. What was happening to you? It felt like every fibre of your being was betraying you, begging for you to climb over to him and beg him to take you whatever way he wanted. “What’s the deal with you anyway?”

“With me?” Taken aback, you went slightly rigid, why would he want to know anything about you? He hated you, he made it perfectly clear. He nodded, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to work you out. “What do you mean?”

“Well, why do you want to learn to hunt? And don’t you have some boyfriend around to teach you?” This was the most he’d spoken to you all day, and he had you spluttering on the sip of whatever you’d just taken.

“I want to hunt so I can be useful,” you coughed out, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to look casual, “and no I don’t have a boyfriend to teach me, so I suppose you’re just gonna have to put up with me for now.” Shaking your head, you tried at being playful, but it still didn’t crack his prying exterior.

“Pretty young thing like you, ‘bound to have ‘em falling at your feet.” It was said as almost a passing comment, but your shock was visible on your face, blinking and biting your lip trying to make up a response that was witting and defensive but you couldn’t.

Before you’d scrambled your way to Jackson, alone and bewildered, you had grown up in a cult, whose goal was primarily to restart civilisation. They’d taught how it worked, making babies and all that, and for a while you were happy playing the part, letting your father chose a man, who would be forced with the task of putting as many babies as he could inside you. You endured, what felt like a chore, with your partner, watching your friends fall pregnant. Your inability to fall pregnant was what made you run in the first place, hearing of what they did to the girls who could birth a child had frightened you, fearful that you’d be reduced to another mouth to feed. A drain on resources. So with all of that in mind, finding a boyfriend was never something that crossed your mind, nor was it something you greatly desired. But with Joel sat in front of you, legs spread with his thick thighs in your direction, you felt strings inside you being pulled that had previously been untouched.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him for a moment, trying to catch a hint of softness.

“I think you’d be doin’ better tryin’ to find a nice young man,” He adjusted his position and met your gaze, “rather than spendin’ the night in and old shack with’an old man like me.” This was him trying to be nice you thought, but it was having the opposite effect. It made you defensive and you narrowed your eyes.

“Oh because I’d be better off finding a man-”

“You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” His interruption was calm, yet stern, shaking his head at you and rubbing his face with his hands. He’d succeeded in silencing you as you looked down at the ground in front of you, slightly embarrassed.

“I’ve had a boyfriend, or a lover, I don’t know what to call him,” You avoided him, you had no idea why you felt the need to be vulnerable, “and I don’t know what the whole big deal is, y’know?” You sighed, cheeks flushing a bit pink. “I don’t understand why someone would put themselves through that.”

“Through what?” He leaned forward slightly, curiosity shadowing his face in the dim light. Finally you lifted your head, showing him your red cheeks.

“That.” You hoped he understood your insinuation. And due to the sudden rigidness of his body recognised that he understood. He pursed his lips for a moment and then opened them as if to speak, yet nothing came out. Embarrassment was flooding your body, you regretted even bringing it up due to the sudden tension in the air. And there was that pit in your stomach again, aching and throbbing as you watched him stumble over words to say.

“Because it feels good.” Was all he could stifle out, watching your reaction carefully as your knitted your brows, screwing your face up in confusion slightly.

“Maybe for the men,” You scooted up onto your knees, looking up at him as he sat taller than you, “but for me, as a woman, its just so much pressure.” He was now looking confused, squinting his eyes, trying to understand.

“Pressure to what?”

“To make a baby.” He was beginning to patronise you, making you explain the obvious like it was some sick game. It got you all defensive again. “It doesn’t feel that great when all you can think about is if you’re going to be able to make-“

“It’s not just about that.” Adamantly he shook his head, eye scanning over your body watching as frustration overtook you. “It’s not just about making a baby.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Miller, I’ve had sex, I know what its about.” You bit sharp, heart thumping in your chest, moving closer to him to try and assert some dominance.

“I don’t think you do.” You could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smirk hiding behind his beard. “Christ, I should not be the one telling you this.”

“Telling me what? What Joel?” You were now practically between his legs, kneeling, begging to understand what he could possibly be talking about. “Please, tell me, I don’t understand.” His eye were trying frantically, to look everywhere except for you.

“Darlin’, I cant be tellin’ you this, s’wrong.” His voice was lower, speaking to you quietly and firmly, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You felt hot under his touch, his rough hand wrapping around your wrists, staring into your eyes. “M’old enough to be your daddy.”

“Whats that got to do with it?” Your voice lowered to the same volume as his, you were searching for the answers in his eyes, and he looked conflicted. Like he was balancing options.

Your body was betraying you again, it wanted to reach forward, wrap itself around him, be as close to him as possible, as if the proximity now was not enough. As if the feeling of his fingers and palms on your now hot skin, was not enough.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re always starin’ at me? Hmm, sweet girl?” God, if you were red before, now you were purple. Your skin was prickling, not just at the acknowledgment of your behaviour but at his sudden use of pet names. You couldn’t force words out even if you tried. “Why’d’you think I avoid you like you’re the plague?” With his face inches from yours, it was now easy to see that there was almost desperation in his eyes, like he was losing a battle, unable to let go of his grip still.

“B…Because, you, you hate me.” You finally stuttered out, your throat dry from the heaving breathing.

“Christ, no, I don’t hate you, darlin’, I just can’t stop myself when you’re in front of me, staring at me with those big o’eyes, looking like you’re just about ready to drop to your knees.” There was still no answer to your question, you still didn’t understand, you so desperately wanted to understand. Especially after watching the way he licked his lips, his burning stare taking in every inch of you, “And to think, you’ve been sat there, squeezin’ your legs together, and you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I, I, I don’t understand, what you’re saying, Joel.” Your chest was rising and falling, a sweat blanketing the both of you, his grip loosening but letting his hands travel further up your arms until they were at your back.

“Let me show you.” Was all he could muster out until his lips were on yours. He crashed against you, pulling you into him by your back. You fought for a moment at first, out of shock at his abruptness, but it did not take you long to be pressing your body against his, your fingers getting lost in his hair, gripping and tugging whilst he groaned into your mouth. His tongue found its way against yours, tasting every part of you, savouring the moment as you whimpered. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and he rested his forehead against your, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” The ache was taking over your body now, like it was all for him, making you force your lips on him again.

“Please, Joel, please,” You purred into him, his hand reaching down to your ass, gripping it hard, “please, I’m aching.”

“Baby, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to your neck, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Please show me, I need you.” Begging, you ignored how right he was, you were sure what you needed but you needed it fast. The tension was becoming unbearable, you needed release.

He held you close by the small of your back, gently lowering you down until your back touched the ground and he was on top of you. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were ready to do anything he asked of you, your entire body feeling like it was electric. He continued kissing you, moving his lips down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and unbuttoning your shirt with an experienced hand. There was still a little bit of disbelief inside you, a failure to believe that Joel Miller, who 2 minutes prior you believed hated you, was on top of you undressing you. The anticipation for his next move was unlike anything you’d experienced before. “God, I’ve thought about this,” His voice vibrated across your chest, your body lifting to meet his lips, your bra exposing your cleavage, “now look at you, angel, whimperin’ for me like a bitch in heat.” He was grinding his hips, pressing his hard bulge into where you needed him most.

“Please, it hurts, Joel.” There was nothing you needed more than what he was giving you, the friction of denim rubbing together was nothing cooling the burning sensation between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know.” He grumbled, “m’gonna show you, jus’ takin’ my time.”

Kisses were descending south down your body, soft red marks left in their wake. He was taking his time, occasionally glancing up at your wide, blown out eyes. He wanted to show you exactly what he’d meant. Exactly what he’d meant. When he finally reached the waistline of your jeans, he tapped your thighs, signalling for you to lifts your hips so he could begin to pull them down your legs and then off your body entirely, taking your white cotton panties with them. You instinctively pressed your knees together, immediately feeling exposed in front of Joels large frame.

He tutted, “Ain’t no use bein’ shy now, sweet girl, you gotta show me where you need me.”

You did as you were told, spreading your legs, whilst he knelt back, palming the growing tent in his jeans. “that’s it, good girl.” groaning, he leant forward, lowering his body to meet yours, “Look at how wet she’s got f’me, you might not know what I mean, but she definitely does.” A sadistic chuckle left his throat, watching you squirm under his intense gaze.

Your body jolted when one of his fingers gently slid up your folds, collecting the wetness and slick, leaving you unable to breathe. No one had ever touched you there, not even yourself, and here was Joel Miller, slack jawed, toying with your hole however he pleased. He did slow motions up and down, watching as you glistened in the dim light. You had no idea you were capable kf feeling this feeling, a tingling sensation rippling in waves along with his touch. You were absentmindedly grinding your dripping cunt in motion with him, your eyes flickering shut whilst your head rolled back. “that’s right, baby girl, feels good don’t it?” Joel cooed through a smirk, watching intently as you rubbed against him.

“mmhmm,” You hummed in a daze, this must’ve been what he was talking about, “so good.” And with your admission of pleasure, a small smile dancing over your lips, he took his hand away. Your head snapped up and you propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him with pouted wet lips. He took little notice of your reaction, instead he wrapped his arm around your thighs positioning his face opposite your throbbing pussy.

Before you had time to question why he was so close, he showed you. He dove into like a you were water and he was in a drought. Gasping, you watched with your jaw wide, panting whilst he licked and sucked at you, his tongue exploring every inch of you. “Joel, fuck, my god, what are you doing?” you panted, your chest rising and falling heavily.

“Well,” he spoke between breaths, “I’m tasting you, darlin’ and boy, don’t you taste sweet.” he continued on, watching your breathing growing erratic, the torment his tongue was bestowing on you causing your eyes to roll back into your head, a hand holding onto his forearm. “your old boyfriend never came down for a taste?”

“No” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, he brought you to a new high. One which made you sure that this was what he was talking about surely it didn’t get better than this. Feeling his beard scratching against your thighs, seeing the absolute sheer pleasure in his eyes as his tongue fucked itself into your hole.

“He was missing’ out, I’ll tell you that much, sweetheart.” It was a smug scoff. He was immensely enjoying the effect he was having on you. See you wriggle, unable to keep still, holding your hips firmly down to the ground so he could have his way with the sweet pussy in his mouth. Knowing that his mouth was the only one to taste you, to savour and relish in the taste of you, god he felt like one lucky man.

The pit that started in your stomach had now grown and blossomed to take over your entire body, it was consuming and controlling you. Your back arched off the ground, only remaining anchored by Joel firm hands, you let one of your hands grab fistfuls of Joel’s hair, pushing him closer against you, whilst your other hand took to your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple underneath the restrictions of the bra. You cared not for the noises you made, filling the otherwise silent forest with salacious moans and Joel’s name. If a search party had been sent out for you, they’d definitely find you. They’d find you laying half naked, fucking yourself on Joel tongue. It was nearly shameful how much you were at his expense. The grip was gone from one of your thighs, your weak leg dropping to the ground giving him a wide access as you planted your foot on his back. He leant back for a moment before pursing his lips and spitting directly onto your already drooling cunt, making you flinch.

“look at me, pretty girl.” He took a breath, your eyes meeting his, “god, what a sight for sore eyes, so pretty, look at me.” babbling his took your moment of distraction as a invite to insert two of his thick fingers into your hole, smiling again with wet lips, the juices from your pussy dampening his beard and shinning off of his prominent nose. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to make eye contact with him, your lip between your teeth to hard you were sure it was going to draw blood. at first he made sure to slowly let you adjust to the stretch of his fingers, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. “mmm, thatta girl, taking my fingers so well, is that nice?” His praise made you fumble, unable to form sentences, only being able to respond with a over ambitious nod of your head, pouting with beads of sweat dribbling down your temples. “I bet it’s nice, no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? My needy girl, following me around, so full of desire with no where to go.” You continued nodding, hypnotised by his words, his fingers curling to reach a spot, overwhelming you, tears prickling in your eyes. Your stomach was tight, the pressure building and building, your knees growing weak. “My girl.” He repeated to himself, looking your up down as if he was admiring his handiwork.

“M’all yours.” It left your throat involuntarily, strangled and choked, pathetic.

“All mine?” He huffed incredulously, “Yes you are, all mine, christ girl.” His mouth returned to the mess he had made made, lips wrapping around and pulling at your clip, releasing with a wet pop. You hissed and tugged at his hair, his nose smushed against your skin, sniffing and smelling as much of your natural scent as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a pussy this intoxicating, or if he ever even had.

Something was about to rupture in you, it panicked you, washing over your body. You were unable to breathe, unable to release the grip you had on him, your eyes widening as you trembled against joel’s mouth. “Joel.” you squeaked out and he looked up at you with dark eyes, “what’s, fuck, I’m…” Your heart pounded in your chest and in your ears, you could barely focus, unable to form a sentence, or even get a word out.

“that’s right, go on, let it out,” his warm breath fanned against your sensitive area, “make a mess, let go f’me, soak my finger.” He was rattling you and egging you on, seeing your pathetic, writhing, sweating body in front of him.

Once more, you did as you were told. And holy shit.

It was like your entire body was on vibrate, toes curling, unable to even make noise. Stars were bursting behind your squeezed shut eyes, body lifted forward off the ground. “That’s my girl, there she is, fucking hell, give it to me, darlin’” He groaned, digging his hips into the ground, watching you come undone. The tension was being released in constricting waves, your walls clenching and squeezing around his fingers, which remained still, but still putting pressure on the spot they had previous being stroking relentlessly.

“oh my god, Joel, fuck me, oh my god, fuck, fuck.” When you could finally breathe again, you whined his name, cursing and crying a stream of profanities, his fingers leaving you empty whilst his tongue lapped up every precious drop of your high. It took a couple blinks for your vision to come back at when it did, you were met by the proud grin plastered on his face.

“what was it you said earlier? somethin’ ‘bout me losin’ m’touch in m’old age?” He teased, before putting the fingers that had been in you, into his mouth. He sucked them dry, letting his eyes roll back into his head for a second. “Sure didn’t seem to mind my touch when you were choking my fingers.”

“what was that?” You almost lost your voice, your throat dry. Joel was working his way up your body, kissing you and nibbling at your salty skin.

“That, my darlin’, was what I meant.” His teeth pulled at your earlobe and you took deep breaths before letting your fingers nimbly start to unbutton his own flannel.

“Do it again.” You pleaded, staring into his brown eyes, trying to rid him of his shirt as quickly as possible.

“Christ, you are needy,” He stopped his kisses, “she’s already wanting more? it feel that good?”

“Please, do it again, I want more.” You were completely possessed by the pleasure you had felt, gagging to feel more, you wanted him carnally, to have as much of him as possible.

“Use your words, what do you want?” He was enjoying this too much for someone who had previously stated how wrong it was. He was going to give in, there was no way he couldn’t with his cock so painfully hard in his pants, he just wanted to relish in having you beg for him some more.

The truth is that he’d spent plenty of time watching you. When you first came to town and Maria set you in the cabin next door, Joel had watched you. In fact, his bedroom window had been so perfectly placed so that at the right time of night, when you stepped out the shower he could make out your outline behind your curtains. In these moments, Joel would let himself indulge in all the dirty, perverted thoughts he’d kept locked up. He take his manhood in his hand and pleasure himself at the thought of feeling your skin against his, the thought of you whimpering and offering yourself, spread apart, for him. He’d thought many times about bounding through the door, ruining whatever was left of your innocence. He hadn’t, however, imagined that you had this much innocence left. And he would’ve never imagined in his wildest dreams that you’d be begging him for more, for him ruin you.

“I want you, I want you to fill me up, to stretch me.” You were speaking whatever came to mind, no thinking, just action, tumbling over your words with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, your eyes fucked out, hair matted and wild. This was enough for him to give in, allowing you to push his shirt down his arms, revealing his tanned skin and soft belly. Hair scattered below his waistline and you were eager to find where it lead to.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.” He cursed, watching your small hands struggled with his belt buckle. When he’d agreed to help teach you hunting, this is the last place he thought he’d be.

He ended up undoing his belt himself, your frantic hands proving useless, but this meant you got to watch with wide, hungry eyes as his cock slapped his lower stomach, red and swollen with pre-cum beading at the tip. You were speechless, gulping, unsure of whether it would even fit. After he’d discarded of his jeans, reaching round and pumping his shaft in his fist. You were starving for him, the way he looked in this light, completely bare in front of you. He came down to your height, lips against yours, tongue in your mouth. “Can you taste yourself? Taste how sweet you are?” You purred a yes into the kiss and he pulled away, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger. “taste good don’t you?” His half-lidded eyes remained fixed on the way you licked your lips and smiled sweetly at him, as if you were completely angelic. “yeah, you like it? ‘Course you do, jesus.” He shook, he wasn’t gonna last long with you looking the way you did, feeling the way you did. “how do you want it?” He was buying himself time, his cock already twitching just at the thought of being inside you.

“I’ve never done it, from behind.” Your voice was quiet and unsure, you’d clearly never been asked how you wanted it and now you felt like there was a right and wrong answer. However with the way Joel immediately grabbed you, flipping you over with a squeeze so that you laid on your stomach, you realised that maybe you picked right.

“Now,” he straddled your thighs, grabbing and kneading at your bare ass, spreading your cheeks and planting his cock between them, “it’s been a while,” he rocked his hips gently, watching the way his cock pushed through your plush cheeks, getting lost, “I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses-”

“Please, please, I’m begging you,” you pleaded, arching your back and pushing against him, his balls dragging against your pussy causing him to shiver, all the hairs on his body standing on end, “I want you to give it to me again, Joel, it’s aching again, I’m aching for you.” You tried your best to crane your neck, so that you could make eye contact with him and he took it as an opportunity to grab you by the neck.

“M’gonna give it to you, baby girl, you ready?” His lips brushed against your forehead before resting there, so you whimpered in response before he plunged into you.

He stretched you out in a way that burned. It felt like you were being torn and you evidently winced and hissed and the intrusion of his cock. He, on the other hand, had just entered into heaven. The way you wrapped around him so tight and perfectly had him choking on his low groans, basking in watching your pussy so delightfully swallow every inch he had to give you before stopping at the base. You needed a moment, clenching your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, you needed to adjust to having something of his sheer size inside you. He needed a moment because he was sure if he made any sudden movements, he was going to spill inside you immediately, before he had even had a chance to get you remotely close to your climax. “god, you’re so fucking tight, she’s takin’ me real good.” He kissed at your forehead again, trying to distract himself from the way you were squirming. You knot in your stomach was growing again and the pain was soon numbed out, awaiting his movement.

“you’re so big.” whining, you fluttered your lashes, splaying your hands out in front of you, preparing yourself.

“I know, baby, you ready for it?”

“Yes,” You were practically gasping for air, making puppy dog eyes at him through your eyelashes, watching him twitch, “please, Joel, please.”

Against his better judgement, Joel began thrusting his hips slowly into you, watching your expression twist, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open. You mewled and whimpered, knuckles turning white as you gripped at nothing. You looked pathetic beneath him, surrendering yourself entirely. And he ate it all up. He was enthralled, blinking down at you, watching tears form at the corners of your eyes, your freckles hiding beneath a red flush. This was heaven.

He rocked into you fervently, pushing in and pulling out moans. His grip around your neck kept your face in constant view, his breath fanning over your skin. “You look so beautiful, baby, taking this cock.” He grunted out between the snap of his hips, reaching deeper inside you than anyone had before, your soft velvet walls wrapping around him, clenching and contracting to accommodate his girth. Your lips couldn’t form words, stuck open wide, panting, your tongue resting on your bottom lip.

You felt so full, feeling him in your belly, grazing your cervix with ease. His free hand traveled from your hips, holding you safe and firm, to squeeze a handful of your ass, painfully hard. It caused you to yelp, pushing your hips into him, making his thrust halt for a moment as he shuddered. He was trying desperately hard to not cum embarrassingly fast. He felt like a teenager again, trying to divert his thoughts to anything other than the writhing body he was currently impaling with his throbbing cock. But the way you were pushing back on him, begging him constantly with that drunken look in your eyes, like he was the only other person on the planet. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he though about what needed fixing at home, all his thoughts returned to you.

“More.” You choked out. And he raised an eyebrow.

“More? More what, sweetheart?” He punctuated by giving a hard thrust that left you shaking.

“Harder, I want it- Oh fuck!” Interrupting you, he took advantage and began ramming into you mid sentence, taking immense pleasure in watching you become undone around his relentless torment.

He let go of your ass and your neck, picking you up by your hips so you were on your knees, check pressed against the ground. There was an excited smile on your face, cheeks aching and hot. “You smilin’ girl? Yeah? You like it like this, feel good don’t it?” Whilst you couldn’t see his face, you could hear he was groaning through a grin too, keeping your legs steady so he could quicken his already brutal pace.

There it was again, that growing pit, the flush of electricity that erupted into your body. Your grin only grew, whining and spreading your legs out further for him, allowing him to go deeper and deeper with each groundbreaking thrust. Your legs were trembling, your knees aching and surely bruised up. But it was the last thing on your mind, all you could think about was the impending surge of pleasure. “Hell, look at you,” Joel growled, swallowing hard, “You fuckin’ love it.”

“I… Do, don’t stop!” You spread your legs further, thighs falling downwards, ignoring the burning sensation at the slightly uncomfortable position that you knew you’d regret tomorrow.

“Oh darlin, I ain’t gonna be able t’hold on much longer, not wit’you spreading your fuckin’ legs like this f’me.” Joel was holding on for dear life, becoming desperate. He knew you were close, he could feel it in the way your cunt was becoming tighter and tighter, dripping with arousal, slick running down his thighs getting lost in the hair.

“Mmmhmm, I want it daddy, fill me up.” Your words were slurred and he tensed at what you’d called him.

“Yeah, baby girl, you want daddy deep in you?” He leant over you, palm pressing against the side of your head, pushing you further against the wooden floorboards. His thumb fell just above your mouth, sitting on your lips until you wrapped them around it, sucking gently. You nodded, your body beginning to tense and tremble.

This was shameful stuff, Joel thought, stuff people go to confession and repent for. Here you were, on your hands and knees, offering yourself up, sucking his thumb, fluttering your lashes. You were either the most beautiful angel or a demon sent to lead him astray. Either way, he was relishing in it.

“Come on baby, I know it’s-”

“Oh, Daddy, I'm gonna- it’s coming, I’m-” Your frantic moans came out tumbling over his, interrupting him, arching your back up, your entire body clenching at you were engulfed in pleasure again. “Oh, Joel, Oh my god, you, f, f, feel, so good!” You didn’t care about your volume, you just cared about how amazing it felt to have Joels cock deep inside you as you twitched and writhed around him. You pushed your ass against him, trying to get him as far in you as possible.

Joel couldn’t stop himself, spilling into you will a prolonged broken groan, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, the other grasping on your hip, his head snapped back. He could’ve been having a heart attack, the way his heart was pounding in his ears. You could feel him pumping inside of you, each twitch and rope painting your insides.

“Oh, sweet girl, Christ!” He panted out of breath, riding out his high, jutting his hips forward into you as you breathed heavily beneath him, sensitive to every one of his movements. “You’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” He fell over you, his weight pinning you down, pulling his softening cock out of you.

He rolled to the side of you, you remained laying on your front, thighs trembling, aching too much to move positions. “You still in there?” He raised his eyebrows, brushing hair behind your ear as you look up at him in adoration, big eyes filled with want. A giggle left your lips as his chest rose and fell in deep loud breaths. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“Is it like that every time?” Coarse, your voice creeped out, wiggling closer to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his calloused hand.

“No,” sighing, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling your tired frame into his, immediately soaking in the warmth, “that was… somethin' else.”

You were quick to fall asleep in his arms. You knew you were safe, your body aching and weak. You were engulfed in his scent, head resting nestled into his armpit, soaking it all in.

He’d opened a can of worms, swarmed by thoughts he’d tried to suppress, watching you curl up next to him. He could not shake the image of you coming undone around him, surrendering so easily to him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined, but now he’d acted on these thoughts, he could no longer suppress them. He couldn’t avoid you, the only act of indulgence he’d allowed himself was watching you through your window. Now he hadn’t just indulged himself, he’d submerged himself in you. He was ashamed. He should’ve known better.

______________________________________________________________

“Get up, gotta head back.”

You were awoken, your shirt being thrown at you, crumpled over your chest. Your eyes took a moment to adjust, sunlight seeping into the cabin. You blinked a few times, a shadow breaking up the sunlight. Your body ached like you’d ran a marathon. “Hey, Kid, wake up.” His stern abrupt voice, causing you to pout, instinctively bringing your shirt up to cover your breasts.

Joel was standing opposite you, fully dressed, bag on his shoulders, towering over you with a fed up expression painting his features. You blinked up at him a few times, frowning, confused. “Do I gotta say it a third time? Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, turning his back on you to walk out the cabin.

A tsunami wave of embarrassment and shame flooded through you. Feeling your cheeks turning hot and purple, scrambling to get your bra and clothes on, eyes scanning the floor for your belongings. You pulled your socks on, searching for your panties. They’d seemingly disappeared. But due to Joels passive aggressive sighs outside, you decided they were a lost cause. Pulling your jeans up your legs without them. You felt dirty, your inner thighs still sticky and wet, his cum smeared across them. His coldness was causing you to do flips in your tummy. When you finally met him outside the cabin, he muttered something else under his breath and then began walking without a word.

You kept your eyes down to the ground, tail between your legs, walking in silence. You felt the tension in between you two. Like you’d upset him. Like you’d done something wrong. He didn’t dare look back at you, ignoring every noise you made, cursing every twig you stepped on reminding him you were there. And reminding him where he’d been. Reminding him of the touch of your soft skin, how small you felt in his arms, the way you were whimpering his name begging for him. He couldn’t bare it, knowing you were behind him, eyes distraught, the carpet swept from beneath you.

Your mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out where you’d messed up, what it was that was wrong. Everything had felt so right, so so good. What was it that you did that had angered him so much. You didn’t notice the branch within the leaves in front of you and you tripped slightly, falling forward, only to be caught by Joels strong hands. “Would you just watch what you’re doin’?” He bit, lip twitching, staring you directly in the eye, hands gripping onto your arms for a moment too long.

“Did I do something wrong?” You swallowed, watching him turn around on his heel, shaking his head again, like you were asking something outlandish, “I mean.. was I… was I not very good? I know I don’t have much experience but-” You were fumbling over your words again, insecurity threatening to spill from your eyes, Joel freezing in front of you.

“What we did was wrong, no matter how good it felt, for both of us.” He spoke stiff, refusing to look you in the eye when he turned around, refusing to acknowledge that you were holding back tears. “It was wrong.” He lifted his hands in front of him, as if to signal “enough”.

“But-”

“No, no, thats it end of.”

“You’re not even letting me-”

“Listen to me,” he stepped forward, now staring too directly in the eyes, inches from your face, steadying his breathing, “Last night should not have happened, It will not happen again and I’d appreciate you keepin’ it to yourself, it was a mistake, a lapse in judgment.”

His words stung. Like falling on your palms on gravel as a kid. Quick and lingering. You tried your best to hid your quivering bottom lip. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if he’d even let you. You decided against it. He’d humiliated you enough, you weren’t about to cry in front of him too.

You carried on the rest of the walk in silence. Like nothing had changed. Like you couldn’t still feel him dripping out of you. Like the ghost of your taste wasn’t still dancing on his tongue, on his lips. He could smell you all over him.

When you finally got back to town, you parted ways, the awkwardness radiating off of the both of you as you were welcomed back. He made you feel sick. It was all so embarrassing. The way he wouldn’t even look at you. But why would he? You were just one great big lapse in judgment. The return to your small cabin was lonely and you had barely gotten to your front door when you finally allowed yourself to cry. You allowed yourself one glance back at Joel, who was entering his own home, already staring you down. You sobbed a little, shooting him a cold glare before slamming you door shut behind you, sliding down it with your hands in your hair.

Joel felt guilt rotting inside him.

He entered his home alone, it was cold and he could still smell you all over him.

He took one hard step at a time, ascending his stairs, his bed creaking beneath his weight as he sat down, sighing.

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the white cotton panties, the little satin ribbon on the front crumbled and slightly undone. Lifting them to his nose, he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils and his brain. The image of you playing on repeat behind his eyelids, like an old movie on a projector.

And with one hand holding your panties to his nose and mouth, eyes fixated on your bathroom window, he let his other one fist his cock out of his jeans, stroking it slowly.

Back to square one.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #last of us #the last of us

127 notes · View notes

xxcallmemaryxx · 3 days ago

Note

hi!!! i love your works<3

could you maybe write vessel x reader first date?

A sappy first date with the big guy. He’s a bit nervous. But so are you.

Vessel x GN reader.

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s a nice place. It’s quiet, the lights are dim, the booths are made in such a way that it’s like you’re on a whole other planet when you sit in them. Which normally, would be phenomenal. Having such a level of privacy while enjoying your dinner, it’s perfect. But this time it feels like a curse. Like the world is working against you. Because sat across from you is Vessel. He’s in a freshly ironed button up, a dark blue that looks almost black under these lights. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks at you like you hung the stars. It’s awful.

It’s your first date.

And he’s doing absolutely everything right.

The problem is, every time your eyes meet you’ve half a mind to tell him you love him.

You’ve known each other a while, and he’s always had that effect. But here, on your first date, when the tension between you two is burning up the room and the feelings you kept hidden for so long are pretty much sitting on the table in front of him? Yeah long story short you’re both clearly nervous as all hell and neither of you know how to approach it. Telling him you love him in a panic attempt at easing into the night probably isn’t the way to go. But this date is just so different and it feels so real, your panic stems from more than just wanting to break the ice, it’s coming from the little voice in your head that’s telling you if this date goes the way you want it to… he’s it for you.

You can only hope to the god he spends so much time worshiping that he feels somewhat the same way.

You like Vessel.

You want him to like you back.

“Look, uh… we don’t have to do this. I’d never want to push you.”

His voice, which you’re sure is proof of heaven alone, snaps you right out of your panic. Then, gives you even worse panic.

“Huh? Why?”

There’s obvious worry in your tone, you know it. He picks up on it, because of course he does.

“I just worry you’re not really present. I’d hate for this to be something you’re just trying to get through, sometimes two people just aren’t supposed to go there… you know?”

His eyes are cast down. He doesn’t want to watch you agree with him. He can’t do it. He can’t make himself watch you sigh in relief. He can’t make himself watch you realise this was indeed a mistake. He can’t make himself smile at you as you tell him you’re sorry but he’s right.

“Oh god… Vessel I’m so sorry.”

Hm. If you listen close enough… you might just be able to hear the sound of his heart shattering in his chest over the clinking of the cutlery throughout the restaurant.

“No, please it’s okay. It happens. You’re still my-“

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been this excited about a date, got a bit lost in my own head there for a moment. I’m sorry. I’m here I promise.”

Oh fucking Christ thank Sleep one hundred times to the moon and back again. His heart thumps wildly against his ribcage, he’s almost positive you can hear it. And he doesn’t even attempt to hide the sigh of relief that escapes him and the happy smile that graces his lips.

“That is… yeah that’s a relief. I won’t lie to you.”

He huffs a nervous laugh as he fiddles with the tablecloth hanging over the side of the table between you.

“I mean, there wouldn’t have been any hard feelings of course… but I’m really happy you still want to be here.”

You’re silent for a moment while you decide whether or not what you’re about to do is a bad idea or not. But you want to show him you’re serious about this date, you want him to see you enjoying his presence. You need to snap yourself out of it and make some moves.

So you get up.

His head snaps up and he watches you slide out of the booth with a look of complete dread. He straightens up. His hands fall to his sides and his face turns beet red. His jaw opens and closes as he tries to force words out but no sounds escape him. That is until you round the table and slide in next to him.

You offer him a little smile as your side presses against his. Your knees bump together under the table and your hands brush as you situate yourself. He uses his other hand to press his face into it. His voice muffled slightly as he groans quietly into it.

“Fucking Christ… you’re going to send me into an early grave.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. You purposely bump his knees with your own this time, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“I’m sorry… did I scare you?”

“Yes. Yes you did. I thought I’d ruined it all.”

He laughs a little, and he looks down at where you’re pressed up against him. His cheeks are flushed but he looks happy. His eyes sparkle and when he grins down at you, all his teeth are on full display. It’s the kind of smile that would make your cheeks hurt a little bit. The kind that’s a bit awkward and feels too big for your face.

It suits him.

“I’m sorry, Vess. I really like you, I was worried about it not working and kind of got too deep into worrying about it.”

He blinks down at you, it’s a slow blink, his cheeks are still tinted red from your close proximity and you swear for one moment it looks like he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“Don’t panic, love. It’s definitely working.”

His voice is low, it changes the mood almost immediately and all of a sudden it’s too warm in this booth. Who’s idea was it to cozy up to him like this. It feels like you’re suffocating again, he’s so overwhelming when all he’s doing is speaking to you.

He was right before, the tablecloth that hangs over the side of the table really is that interesting. You can’t stop yourself from fiddling with it, you’re starting to feel awkward again. You hear him force a deep breath into his lungs above you before his very large very beautiful hand encompasses your much smaller one, and intertwines his fingers between yours. There’s a slight tremble, you can feel it when you squeeze his hand tight enough. You’re positive doing that made it worse but it’s so endearing that you can’t even feel guilty.

Everything about Vessel is so endearing.

“Thank you for saying yes to me.”

If you weren’t sitting so close you probably wouldn’t have heard him. He gazes down at you, eyes so full of hope. It makes your throat close up and need prickle through your chest.

“Of course, Vess. You thought I would have said no to you?”

“No. I didn’t think you would…”

Cheeky fucker.

“… but I’m just so happy you said yes. I’m excited to be here, like this, with you. I’m sure it’s obvious.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek, this causes a chain reaction, starting with his furiously blushing cheeks (yet again), then he smiles so wide he has to look at the ceiling just to calm himself down, his breathing picks up and his hand squeezes yours where he’s holding it in his lap. He looks back down at you with a smile that says a lot. It’s a wobbly smile, his chin wrinkles up and his eyes squint a little. It screams hope. Like most of his body language does tonight. But this smile is the epitome of ‘I know you know exactly how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way.’

Nerves and excitement crackle in the air between you.

“I’m excited too. For tonight. And for our next date. And the ones after that. I’m sure that’s obvious.”

He nods at you, his wobbly smile grows. Somehow, you didn’t think it could get any bigger but it does. He’s gotta cast his eyes down, he looks at your intertwined hands and nods again, at them… to himself… to you? You’re not sure, but he’s sure of whatever he’s nodding about. And that feels good.

<3 <3 <3

Thank you for reading.

#hehehehehee nervous first date with vessel #he’s so sweet on you #wants it to work so bad #sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token x reader #vessel #sleep token vessel #vessel sleep token #vessel x reader #vessel sleep token x reader #sleep token vessel x reader #wine spilt #marys musings

102 notes · View notes

messyoungie · 2 days ago

Text

HABITS TO DROP WHEN GETTING YOUR LIFE TOGETHER

➝ CREATING UNAUTHENTIC & UNINTENTIONAL GOALS

the biggest mistakes you can make when creating goals is making goals that aren’t true to you and making goals for the sake of making goals.

it can be so exciting when you decide to get your life together. I mean, of course it is! there are so many possibilities! but when you start planning, don’t just write down the goals you see circulating on social media. what works for someone else may not be what works for you. don’t make your goals and habits based on what’s trending or popular in the self improvement community.

think about what you actually need for a minute. what is actually necessary? your goals and habits aren’t here to be glamorous, they’re here to help regardless of how simple or small they are. the point of thinking up new habits is to improve your life, so be intentional with your goals. what will practicing this habit or achieving this goal give you?

when you’re first starting out, your goals don’t have to be anything too crazy or intense. for example, let’s say you want to become a pink pilates girl and get into fitness. you shouldn’t jump right into it and say your goal is to work out for 2 hours 5 times a week. let’s consider some factors first. have you been living a completely sedentary kind of lifestyle? then try looking for exercises that’ll wake up dormant muscles. your goal should then be to repeat those exercises for how ever many times a week. then you’ll work your way up from there. (it’s important we don’t harm the body, so be mindful with your fitness goals.) what about your schedule? how much time can you actually give to working out? can your body even endure working out for that long?

anyways, hopefully you see what I mean. when creating goals, it’s not about having the “aesthetic” habits and goals that you may see on tiktok or tumblr. it’s about doing what is actually good for you and what’ll help you the most with where you are now in your journey. so please put some thought into your goals and where they’ll take you. creating unauthentic and unintentional habits will also mean you’ll be less likely to keep practicing them after a few times. at the end of the day, that doesn’t help you achieve anything and you’re left with a broken promise you’ve made to yourself. which leads me to my next point…

➝ NOT KEEPING YOUR WORD WHEN IT COMES TO YOU

let me start off by saying this— if you don’t even listen to yourself, why should anyone else? (harsh, ik)

a HUGE reason as to why people have no self confidence is because they don’t listen to themselves or keep the promises they’ve made to themselves. if you have no self trust, how could you have any self confidence?

now, building discipline can definitely be a challenge so if you want to start somewhere easy, nip your false promises in the bud and stop yourself from making them. that’s what I did when I was first trying to stop this habit. when my addiction to tiktok was at its peak I would always tell myself the usual “ten more minutes and then I’ll stop scrolling.” when I wanted to stop making false promises, I knew I had no control or discipline so the only thing I could do is be real with myself. I’d cut myself off when I heard myself say “five more minutes” because I knew it wasn’t going to happen. if I wasn’t going to quit my bad habit, then the least I could do is be honest with myself.

the things that you are constantly telling yourself, whether they’re mindless or intentional, matter.

so, stop telling yourself seemingly harmless lies. unnecessary false promises that you know are false will only fill you with tension.

➝ SEEING FAILURE AS AN INVITATION TO GIVE UP

this applies to so many things.

you wanted to be consistent with your reading goals but haven’t read a chapter in a week? dont give up. don’t tell yourself that being consistent is too hard for you, that since you missed a week this habit isn’t for you. make your goal a bit easier or give yourself another chance.

you wanted to spend more time doing art but it’s not turning out how you expected? dont give up. dont give yourself the title of a “bad artist” and never pick up a pencil again. move forward, give yourself another chance.

you wanted to quit your Instagram addiction but after a couple days you went back to scrolling for hours on ig reels? Don’t give up. dont tell yourself that this addiction isn’t gonna go away, don’t go back to the bad habit because you slipped up. give yourself another chance.

I think a lot of us (myself included) tend to give up at the first sign of failure, instead of reminding ourselves to keep going. it’d be wonderful if you could get it right on the first try. if you could read ten books a month right away after not reading a book in three years. if you could watch hours worth of tutorials and sketch the perfect portrait on the first attempt. if you could uninstall instagram for good and never feel the urge to go back. that would all be so amazing, but it’s not always the reality. expect the best from yourself and do the best you can, but also give yourself some compassion. keep in mind that you won’t always do things perfectly right away and that’s one thousand percent okay. when you feel yourself slipping up on your brand new goal, don’t end it there at the first failure. allow yourself to move forward, because the only other direction to move is backwards.

133 notes · View notes

mrpenguinpants · 3 days ago

Text

Me, rattling the bars of my enclosure, dying and in pain. I'M DONE. I usually try to get commissions done within 3 days but I got violently sick out of nowhere.

More writer's notes under the cut:

I feel like most of my single-character one-shots are quite different from my headcanon fics. But this one especially feels way out there. Magnolia (my previous Dottore-only fic) has a somewhat similar vibe, but this one feels like I doubled the existential crisis.

Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about it—which is bad since this is a commission. Thankfully, the commissioner liked it, so we’re safe. Or maybe they were just being really nice to me lol. Either way, I hope they did. I initially planned to use the Ayato fic as a guideline, and I kind of did since this fic follows the same structure. But somewhere in the middle, that plan went out the window.

I think I’m physically incapable of writing Dottore without the relationship dynamic feeling completely doomed. Quite literally, it’s an “I’d follow him into Hell, but I sure wish he’d stop going there” vibe. Plus, my interpretation of Dottore is so different from any other character that I was genuinely worried when the same commissioner came back to me. I was like—do you know what you’re asking for? Because I’m about to crack open a philosophy book for this guy. I even took a German word for the title just to satisfy the pretentious bullshit I associate with when writing Dottore. Even with 4,000 words, I feel like I didn’t explore the relationship dynamic enough to fully convey the serene yet doomed tone I was aiming for. But I’m glad most readers, being the smart people they are, picked up on it.

I think my downfall was the music I was listening to—real bittersweet tracks that probably seeped into the writing. I’ve also taken a lot of liberties with his characterization since we don’t know much about the original Dottore. Personally, I imagine he’d be calm and patient. In the Genshin manga, Dottore (Beta) comes off as much more unhinged, while in the Sumeru Archon quest, Omega seems calmer and more composed. So, I assume the original, technically the oldest, would be the most mellow yet hollow of them all.

Oh, and I have to mention this: the (possible) shade of Dottore’s hair is literally called Air Superiority Blue. That’s way too funny not to bring up. I was going to go with Light Blue Slumber (since I’m trying to build a theme around characters’ hair colors), but it felt a bit lame. So, I looked up Dottore’s hair color and found Air Superiority Blue, but that sounded lame too. Then I changed it to Bitter Blue Slumber, which I didn’t like either, so it became Bitter Slumber. Finally, while writing this, I went looking for a word that captures "bittersweet nostalgia," since that’s sort of the relationship dynamic I wanted to convey (not entirely, but close). And wow, Reddit came through. Someone had already asked the same question, and someone else suggested the word Torschlusspanik. I explained its meaning in the fic, but it’s such a perfect word. So yeah, that’s why the title ended up being what it is. Rip the slumber-title continuity.

Ttorschlusspanik [ Commissioned ]

[ Hcs for Dottore where the reader is very sleepy/sleep-deprived and is constantly falling asleep in battle, on dates, or maybe during research and experiments! ]

Word Count: 4k

Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Semi Part 1: Low Battery Warning [Masterlist]

Thank you so much for commissioning me! You’re so sweet, and I truly appreciate the tip, but I can’t accept this level of generosity. Please let me know if I went under the word count. Also, thank you for your patience—I got really sick this week and am still recovering.

Torshlosspanik. noun. 1. A desperate feeling that something desired is fading, missing, or being taken away. 2. A feeling of frustration when something one has is departing.

A slumbering figure, a nearly empty desk, and foreboding fabric are the greeting signs to the infamous lab. It’s ironic, really. The concept that the Doctor’s domain comes with a “receptionist” setup stationed in front of imposing steel doors, giving the illusion that this place is as normal—and as morally sound—as any other doctor’s office. At best, it’s laughable to think anyone would believe this place accepts patients willingly, let alone frequently enough to require check-ins. Yet, a shabby but sturdy wooden desk stands innocently in the corner of the entrance, its chipping edges lined with plastic chrysanthemums and white lilies. The artificial flowers are faded, their colors dull from years of neglect, as if mocking the very notion of hospitality. Behind the desk sits an equally worn-down office chair, large enough for someone to curl up in. Its fabric is stained and frayed from years of misuse, the cushion lumpy and barely holding its shape but still useable. All for a receptionist, if you can call them that, who spends more time asleep than actually working as an employee in this most unlikely place. Legs curled up on the seat, arms crisscrossed over the knees in a fetal position. A chin tucked towards the chest, hidden from the view of passersby. Back facing toward prying eyes, leaving only the pronounced slouch of their spine visible, an angle practically begging to develop scoliosis. But the most harrowing detail isn’t the position. It’s the unmistakable black-and-white fur coat draped over them like a blanket, the fabric’s presence carrying an air of authority and fear. A coat only gifted to the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. The desk itself is of no help either. There’s no clipboard, no pens, no paper-nothing that could even remotely resemble the tools of an actual receptionist. It’s an empty stage prop, barely held together by the weight of its own absurdity. And yet, for all its flaws, it stands as the gateway to a place no one in their right mind would willingly step into.

No one dares attempt to wake you. Successfully doing so is practically a death sentence, especially if you go whining to Dottore about the unprompted “alarm clock.” He has a reputation for ensuring the offender never makes a sound again. The only ones bold enough to try and emerge unscathed are his fellow Harbingers, though even they tread lightly when it comes to disturbing your slumber. It’s both impressive and deeply concerning how much of a deep sleeper you are. The bustling footsteps of agents pacing outside the lab, their sharp voices discussing assignments, don’t stir you. The deafening clangs of machinery, coupled with the revolting squelches of severed monster parts being dissected, fail to trigger even a flicker of awareness. Not even Tartaglia’s incessant yammering, loud enough to make glass shudder, elicits so much as an irritated swat from you. Instead, you remain in a state of unyielding sleep, utterly detached from the chaos around you. Your peculiar habit has become such a fixture in the lab that the staff barely remember you exist. You sit perched at their entrance and exit, as still and silent as a gargoyle guarding a forgotten ruin. To them, you are little more than part of the backdrop. A slumbering figure whose presence is a curious mix of ominous and benign.

While it's obvious that the answer to rousing you is to find Dottore himself, or one of his segments if he isn’t around, the interesting part is how you wake up. You're not immune to the initial dizziness that comes with awakening. When you finally open your eyes, blinking the sleep away from your eyelashes, you’re always disoriented. Your eyes feel glazed over, as though you’ve gone blind from keeping them closed too long. Yet, there’s always a common theme: you always reach out toward the nearest blue object. Whether it's an odd trinket or a test tube of acidic liquid, your hand automatically tries to grab it and pull it close to you. It’s part of the reason your desk is stationed outside the lab, away from anything potentially dangerous hidden behind heavy steel doors. Artificial blue has been on the rise lately. Luckily, in nature, blue is very rare. Less than one in ten plants has blue flowers, and even fewer animals are blue. Unfortunately, the biggest nuisance has blue eyes—dead as they are. Tartaglia may not like the doctor, but he does like you. Maybe it’s because your sleep demeanor can be categorized as cute, or maybe you remind him of the simple life in an organization that’s so uptight. Regardless, that little fox has been clawing at the wooden legs yapping for attention. It's only made worse you don't bother to dissuade him, only indulging in his playful antics. It's led to many, many, lectures from one particular segment.

It's fascinating watching how each segment interacts with your sleepy demeanor. While each segment has varying features and appearances, under the same clothes and mask, they would be indistinguishable if they stood still and never spoke. The only true way to discern them is through their actions and mental processes. Hence, it's easy to tell who is who by the way they go about holding you.

Omega is by far the least attentive or affectionate toward you. Perhaps it’s because he’s the most selfish of them all. There’s still an ongoing debate over whether his dislike for you stems from the fact that you stand in the way of fulfilling his desires or if his ambitions extend beyond simply overtaking the divine gaze. Or perhaps the divine gaze isn't actually his goal in the first place. Either way, it’s two sides of the same coin. When it’s Omega’s turn to fetch you, he does so as if you were any other patient. Completely beneath him. One arm rests behind his back, while the other holds a piece of paper clenched tightly in his hand. His mouth is set in a firm line as he gazes down at your slumped form. Although the air around him is calm and silent, it doesn’t take a genius to know that if he could get away with it, he’d drag you through the halls by your hair. Alas, that kind of act would get him permanently disassembled, so he settles for unceremoniously flipping you upright. The arm resting on the small of his back is removed and curls under your stomach. With one swift motion, you’re treated like one of Signora’s shopping bags. The sight of a limp body folded in half under an arm that surely digs into the stomach is the best way to know if it’s the Omega segment or not.

Beta, on the other hand. Beta. That maniacal and neurotic freak adores you but couldn’t care less about you. His research typically focuses on fusing humans with machinery to create “better versions” of themselves, and he fully believes in that philosophy. You would look so much better if he were allowed to be your sole care provider. If your drowsiness were caused by a medical condition like heart disease, asthma, pain, or a nerve condition, he could simply replace them, and you’d be perfect. If it were a mental issue, well, he’d love you no matter how unresponsive you might be. It wouldn’t be much different from you being asleep anyway. When it’s Beta’s turn to fetch you, he does so with a waltz. He walks purposefully toward your desk. Loud and firm, his hands fisted at his sides with unrestrained glee, swinging in time with each step. Even with a mask that obscures most of his face, it’s clear to see the overexcited grin stretching across his lips. It’s almost like there’s static buzzing in time with his artificial heart, fuzzy yet electrically sharp. There’s no fanfare, as soon as he’s within arm’s reach, he grabs the nearest piece of skin and hauls you out of the chair. By some miracle, you’re always still asleep from the rough handling, which is more than enough for Beta to wrap his other arm around your waist. Your chests press together, and he swings your body to and fro in his mad dance. The sight of a limp body dragged into a dancing plague that’s surely pulling your stiff joints out of place is the best way to know if it’s Beta or not. Beta has been recently banned from coming within a six-foot radius around you.

The original Dottore, Zandik, is a unique case. All of the segments originated from him but at different points in time. However, they are still parts of his thoughts and mannerisms. There really is no order in which the segments are ranked, as they can’t compete with each other. What’s more pointless than trying to beat yourself? You’ll still lose in the end. Zandik is a strange mix of every segment yet none at all. When he wants to see you, he does so slowly, with all the time in the world. His methodical steps echo lightly on the concrete floors of the lab, his arms still at his sides yet loose enough that the slightest wind could blow them away. It’s as eerie as it is tranquil. Everything about the original whispers of restrained patience—that when he arrives at the front of your desk, he simply waits. Usually, it takes you hours or even days to wake up on your own, but when it’s Zandik standing at the edge of your daydream, your eyes slide open. Small ripples in the pond. You’re still lethargic, blindly feeling your way back into your body as your eyes ricochet off the walls until they land on blue. A weighted hand reaches out to grab that ashy blue, and another hand meets your fingertips.

It would be cute if it were anyone else. The sight of a man with curly light blue hair, carrying a bundled-up figure dressed in a white coat with a fluffy black collar, legs dangling from either side of his waist while his hands rest on the lump’s presumed back and thighs. It would be so cute indeed, if it were anyone else but Zandik. But for him, it only looks lonely, despite the two of you pressed together.

The moments when you're awake only happen on two occasions: either you just happened to wake up at that time, or it’s check-up day. What kind of doctor would Dottore be if he didn’t conduct physicals for his only patient who manages to live long enough each year? The check-ups happen twice a week, always two days apart. Never past two days of separation. Ever. Your exact relationship dynamic with Dottore remains as obscure as ever as to why he cares so much. Whether you’re old friends who knew each other before Dottore set foot in Snezhnaya or even when Dottore was called a different name. Or maybe a dead lover resurrected as a zombie in the pursuit of selfish greed and glorious progress; both are possible options. The zombie theory at least explains why you’re constantly drowsy. The staff have never seen you eat anything before, and with the abundance of... zombie food, it's not outlandish as much as it is disgusting. The old friend theory would explain why you can stomach being around someone who can fly off the handle at any moment. The most willing yet unwilling patient. No matter how often Dottore has to wrestle you upright, only for you to slump back asleep the next second, he never loses his temper. If he has to strap you into a straitjacket and hang you from the goddamn ceiling to keep you sitting with a straight back, he will. But by no means will he get anything more than slightly miffed. If he has to force-feed you your medicine because you’re too loopy to remember how to swallow, he’ll shove his fingers into the back of your throat with nothing but a blank smile. The only good thing about your sleep-deprived state is that you’re probably so out of it that you can’t feel discomfort. It saves on using the limited supply of anesthesia the lab carries.

Dottore, for lack of a better word, is displeased with your constant need for sleep. He is deeply frustrated with each check-in and the stagnation of your results. For him, bad results are no different from good ones—they’re still a means of moving forward. Something that will tell him which direction to take rather than wandering around aimlessly in the dark. But in your case, there are no significant changes, as if everything he’s done has been for nothing. He could have closed his eyes and spun a wheel for the same results. The day before your check-in is always the calm before the storm because the staff knows that when the next day comes, they’d better keep their heads down or risk losing them. No one is quite sure if your sleepiness stems from mutated genetics or if it’s a side effect of being around Dottore for too long. Stir-craziness and breakdowns are common in the lab, whether among "patients" or "employees." Everyone eventually goes mad, cooped up within the same cell-shaded walls and working under possibly the worst boss imaginable. Add to that the fact that the Fatui don’t believe in “mental health” days, and with no coping mechanisms in sight, it’s unfair to expect anyone to function effectively. Most people eventually devolve into screaming or manic episodes. Perhaps your escape is more literal. A peaceful retreat from reality through sleep. You’re not even sure why you’re constantly sleep-deprived, especially when you spend more time slumbering than awake. At first, you thought you might be narcoleptic or taking the wrong pills; a diagnosis from scratch must take a long time, right? That was until Dottore bluntly called you an idiot. He told you it’s a bad habit to self-diagnose every minor inconvenience. You should let him do all the thinking and simply listen to him. And truthfully, with the haze clouding your mind, it’s too difficult to think clearly anyway. So, you nod and do as you’re told. It’s easier that way.

It doesn’t happen often, but it occurs more than it should, considering who Dottore is and the reputation he holds. If you wish to cross him, you’d better make it count—because it’ll be your last. He’s in the middle of a meeting with Pantalone, arguing over the lab’s finances when a frantic knock interrupts. Apparently, there’s been a scuffle at the entrance of the lab. To Pantalone's knowledge, there aren't any guards or any agents stationed at the doors except for that sleepy receptionist. Perhaps the doctor's staff finally had enough and decided to take their anger on someone who couldn't fight back? Pantalone's not a good enough person to not find amusement in the situation, infinitely curious as to what Dottore's reaction will be to all of this. Whatever the banker decided to gamble on, his expression doesn't twitch as he follows behind his fellow Harbinger as they walk leisurely through the halls, as if the world has come to a standstill. It’s almost amusing that when your life is potentially on the line, he suddenly decides to take a midday stroll. The only indication of his amusement is the slight shake in his shoulders, hinting at a silent laugh. Dottore punches in the lock code and throws open the steel doors before the automatic switch can activate, slipping through as soon as the gap is wide enough. He stops at the shabby wooden desk that’s now gained a few new dents.

This time, you’re curled up on top of the table, your office chair thrown across the room. Broken. It’s no matter, he’s been meaning to replace it anyway. The chair is just another expense to add to his name. He collects you into his arms effortlessly, and you instinctively sink into the familiar hold. A quick scan from head to toe confirms that you’re unharmed, save for a few strands of hair out of place. Behind him, Pantalone lets out a noise of approval as he surveys the scene. In the center of the room stands a robot with a striking design. A star-shaped frame with six triangular segments forms a perfect symmetry. Glowing cyan cores illuminate the metallic structure, positioned at its center and edges. The intricate details combine sharp, crystalline elements with mechanical precision, radiating an aura of both elegance and menace. As expected of the Doctor. Pantalone can’t help but wonder where this machine was hiding when Signora ventured to Inazuma. Perhaps if it had been deployed then, she might have returned in one piece.

Although Dottore no longer needs to sleep to survive, there are times when, as he passes by your sleeping form, he’ll pause. He stands still, staring for what feels like an absurd amount of time, meticulously detailing and recording every breath you take within a single minute. It’s always 17. Sleep occupies about one-third of a person’s life, a significant portion of time that, in Dottore's mind, could be devoted to something useful. Something productive, instead of wasting it frolicking in dreams that neither matter nor will change anything. Yet, even he can’t deny that, occasionally, a break from reality can serve as a fragile bandage over a wound that refuses to heal. A fleeting comfort in an otherwise relentless existence.

It’s as awkward as it is unnatural. Despite his title as "The Doctor", his hands weren’t designed for gentle touches of flesh and bone. Yet he tries. His fingers twitch involuntarily as he tilts your body to the side, just enough for him to slide in beside you. Carefully, he rests your body against his shoulder. He expects you to jolt awake, his shoulder is bony and hardly a suitable place to rest your head, even when compared to the flaky cushion of the office chair you’ve somehow grown fond of. But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. You simply lay there, your head nestled against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. No protests, no shifting away, just stillness. The transfer of heat begins, as described by the laws of thermodynamics. Hotter, faster-moving molecules collide with cooler, slower ones, transferring energy in a quiet exchange. No fireworks, no blaring alarms, just the science of touch, as mundane and profound as ever. Zandik dares to lower his chin, letting it rest lightly against your head. His mask doesn’t obscure the quiet moment, though he can feel the unnatural curve of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly. Down here, in the deepest layers of the lab, not even the howling winds of Tsaritsa’s snowstorm can reach. It’s eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your breathing. For a moment, he wonders what it would be like if you woke up now. If your half-lidded eyes would squint at him in confusion, or if you’d simply close them again, surrendering to the haze of sleep. But you don’t stir. Instead, he lets himself linger, suspended between an unusual warmth and the cold detachment of his own thoughts

"Breaks" are not something you can indulge in down in the labs. The closest the staff ever got was when one of the Harbingers passed away, and even then, it lasted only half a day before they were right back to work. Still, if you ask nicely, Dottore will nod toward an empty seat, silently giving you permission to make yourself comfortable. You take the opportunity to describe the dreams you’ve had while Dottore tinkers away in the background. You talk about a train whose tracks stretch far into the stars, far beyond the snow-obscured sky you glimpse through the scarce, frosted windows scattered about the lab. Sometimes, you dream of a whimsical city filled with cute shops and tiny bunny-like robots waddling through fissures in space. You’re certain he isn’t really paying attention, his hands busy with instruments, and his focus locked on his latest project. Sometimes, you suspect he forgets you’re even in the room despite your rambling. A small part of you wants to stamp your feet and pout like a child. After all, you’re only awake for a few fleeting hours each week, and even then, all he can think about is his experiments. His endless, obsessive tinkering. The man’s only "hobby" is experimentation, and you wonder if he’s even capable of entertaining anything else. At least Omega and Beta would give you some attention. Omega might tell you to be quiet with that dismissive tone of his, while Beta would enthusiastically scribble down every word you say, his excitement unnerving yet oddly gratifying. Still… your gaze drifts toward Zandik’s back as he works, the muscles beneath his coat shifting subtly with each precise movement. You pull your knees up against your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your cheek against your folded arms. For a moment, you simply watch him in silence, the quiet hum of the lab filling the space between you. Eventually, your eyes grow heavy, and you let them slip shut. A faint smile tugs at your lips as you wonder where your dreams will take you this time. You wonder if Zandik would come with you.

On the rare occasion that Dottore chooses to sleep of his own will, most likely due to substances that induce drowsiness and force his body into a state of rest, it’s always a remarkably uneventful night. He doesn’t dream anymore, nor does he wish to. Dreams, like the past, serve no purpose to him now. On certain days, if he concentrates hard enough, he can faintly discern whispers from the other segments he's created. However, they are nothing more than distractions, a cacophony that only aggravates his already meticulous mind. When he wakes, it’s as though he hasn’t truly slept at all. His eyelids parted smoothly, his pupils sharp and alert as if no time had passed. Yet there is an unusual sensation, warmth. Dottore does not run warm, and the lab, built for functionality rather than comfort, certainly doesn’t harbor it either. He turns his head, curiosity fleeting, and finds you huddled against his side. Your arms are wrapped around his waist in a loose embrace, and your face is pressed against his chest, seeking solace in his stillness. The white coat with its black feathered collar, the one you wear more often than he does, is draped across your body, serving as a makeshift blanket. His hands remain clasped on his stomach, and he realizes with mild irritation that he can’t move without risking the possibility of waking you. For a moment, he lingers. The seconds on, and his mind races ahead to the tasks awaiting him. The pursuit of progress waits for no one, not even himself. Every moment spent lying in this bed feels like a year’s worth of lost discovery.

With calculated precision, he shifts. His movements are methodical, almost robotic, as he carefully bundles you in the coat, ensuring the hood doesn’t cover your face and obstruct your breathing. In a single fluid motion, he lifts you into his arms as he rises from the bed. He spares a brief glance at your sleeping form, red eyes devoid of emotion. Your breathing is steady at 17 breaths per minute—a rhythm he has memorized and measured countless times before. Still as serene as ever. But then, for just the faintest of moments, his gaze softens, almost imperceptibly, before he turns his attention back to the work that never ceases to call for him. What a peaceful way to escape the world, the thought as cold and clinical as his expression.

---

Hi, thank you for reading! I'll reblog this with further writer notes but I wanted to include the research bits in order of appearance. I can't guarantee the full accuracy but I hope I didn't get anything wrong.

Chrysanthemum & Lily

In many Asian cultures, especially in China and Japan, chrysanthemums are symbolic of death and mourning. In China, the flower is closely linked to the Day of the Dead, and in Japan, it is used in funeral rites. While in some contexts chrysanthemums can symbolize longevity or fidelity, their association with death makes them unlucky in certain circumstances, especially when given as gifts or during celebrations.

Lilies, especially white lilies, are often associated with death and mourning, particularly in Christian symbolism, where they are linked to funerals and burials. While lilies also symbolize purity and rebirth in other contexts, their frequent appearance in funeral arrangements.

Head-Down Position

The sleep position reader takes is a parody of the Head-Down position of babies in their third trimester. The head-down position (cephalic presentation) is the most common and ideal position for birth, where the baby’s head is facing downward, towards the birth canal. This allows the baby to navigate the birth process more easily.

Dancing Plague

Also called the Dancing Mania, this refers to a series of events in the 16th century where groups of people, primarily in Europe, suddenly and uncontrollably began dancing for extended periods, sometimes for days or weeks, often to the point of exhaustion, injury, or even death. The most infamous and well-documented outbreak of the Dancing Plague occurred in 1518 in Strasbourg, then part of the Holy Roman Empire (modern-day France).

Algorithm of Semi-Intransient Matrix of Overseer Network

The robot Pantalone sees is the early concept art for ^ but also known as the "Tomb Guard of the Desert King.".

The number 17 is considered unlucky in Italy because of its association with the Latin word for 17, which is "XVII". Rearranging these Roman numerals gives the word "VIXI", which means "I have lived" or "I am dead" in Latin. This gives the number an ominous connotation, as it can be seen as a symbol of death or misfortune.

Honkai Star Rail & Zenless Zone Zero

Yes, reader was describing these two games as their dreams lol.

#for those who haven't seen it #reblog #reblog on main #to the 2 people that read my writer note tags #i had too much to say so under the cut instead #but im super happy people could feel the vibe I was going for #i don't think readers are stupid #you're not. you're human beings with the ability to draw connections without someone shoving it down your throat #but i feel like my writing doesn't explain things properly or leave enough clues for people to pick up on it #because in my head it makes sense since im the one writing it #but regardless that doesn't matter now #love all of you #bro when I tell you the dichotomy of writing for windbreaker and genshin #my previous fic was so nice and fluffy #then bam existential crisis #and then my next fic for windbreaker is literally so sugar sweet its sickening #then ill go back to hsr to write a fic for sunday because i want him to come home and that fic will be my offering #THAT SUNDAY FIC WILL ALSO BE SAD #maybe i don't know yet I haven't exactly started #but the flip flop is crazy

138 notes · View notes

jamesdaycare · 2 days ago

Text

A Wet Service, Part 2

"Oh but maybe you´re more of an ass guy... I also have a good behind! Do you want to see it?"

"Well, judging by the throbbing on your pee pee and the little drop I see forming on its tip, I think that´s a ´yes´. But are you sure you can handle it? Say ´yes miss´. Come on, use your big boy words."

"Hahaha you´re such a good boy! Well, a deal is a deal!"

"Ohhh, someone also likes big butts I see! You´d need a ladder to put your pee pee on my cheeks hahaha. Wanna touch? Oh yes, Miss Denise has very soft skin doesn’t she?".

"Now that you´ve seen everything you need, why don´t you start stroking your little fella? Oh you want me to stroke it for you? But you have to ask very nicely sweetie. Why don’t you use your baby voice and tell me: ‘Miss Denise, I weally am a widdle boy and I don’t know what to do with my pee pee. I need your hewp! I’m not a big boy yet and I’m afraid of doing this. Can you pwetty pwease hewp me?’”

“Awww sure sweetheart, Miss Denise can help you. And it’s really brave of you to admit you’re not a big boy yet! In general, Denise treats his big boys with a full night of wild sex. But I think a little handjob is more of your speed, don’t you think?”

“Now let me get on my knees so you can have my titties on full display. Another think I like to do with big boys is putting their penises in between them and stroke them. But I’m sure your little fella would get so lost in there he’ll start calling his own mommy to come and get him.” *giggle*

“I only grabbed it and I’m already feeling it throbbing! This is going to be fast! I bet all you need is just a few strokes to make your cum cums. Oh what’s that? You feel like peeing? Oh no, don’t worry, it’s the feeling you get when you’re about to cum. Why don’t you suck your thumb so you don’t worry about this? That’s a good boy!”

“Now do you wanna make your cummies? Do you wanna make your cummies for Miss Denise? Awww yes you do! Miss Denise will give your little pee pee a big kiss on its tip so you can blow your little load, okay baby? Now get ready!”

*MUAAAAAAAK*

*SPURT SPURT SPURT*

“Ohhh what a big boy! You made your cummies for Miss Denise! And look how much you’re cumming!”

*SPURT SPURT HISSSSSSSSSSS*

“Oh my, speaking of water!”

*HISSSSSSSSSSS*

“I think someone made an “uh-oh”, didn’t he? Awww baby yes, you were right! You really needed to go pee pee back then! And your little nub relaxed so much after his big boy accident that he couldn’t hold the babyish one. I’m really sorry cutie, I should have let you go potty. Next time I promise I’ll help you. We can even use the plastic potty you have next to your crib!”

“Damn, that’s a big mess you made on the carpet… Mommy’s not going to be happy about it! Uh-oh, I know that face… Is someone about to cry? Listen, I’d love to stay and help you with this, but I have to go visit another client. Just tell your mommy you couldn’t hold it, and suck your thumb so you don’t cry that much. Now give Miss Denise a big kiss on her cheek! *MUAK* That’s a good boy! Make sure to call me again! See you!”

38 notes · View notes

insidekatmind · 22 hours ago

Text

Best friends- Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18, smut, cheating,english is not my first language

The soft lights of the sunset paint the horizon in shades of orange and pink as you sit on your porch, a book open in your hands. The air is crisp, with a light breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. You're engrossed in your reading when you hear the familiar sound of hurried footsteps on the path leading to your house. You look up and see Pope, his expression troubled and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Can I come in?” he asks without preamble, his voice rougher than usual.

You set the book down next to you, concerned. “Of course, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He climbs the porch steps, his movements quick and jittery. When he stops in front of you, you notice the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremor in his hands.

“It’s Cleo,” he says finally, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to contain something too heavy to hold. “We had a fight. A bad one.”

You stand up, gesturing toward the door. “Come inside, let’s talk about it.”

He nods and follows you in, collapsing onto the couch in your living room. You bring him a glass of water, which he accepts with a small nod of thanks. He takes a sip in silence, then runs a hand through his hair—a gesture you know well. It’s his way of trying to calm himself down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you ask, sitting next to him, close enough to let him know you’re there for him but not so close as to invade his space.

He sighs, a deep and tired sound. “It started as something stupid, at least at first. We were talking about plans for the weekend, and I said I wanted to spend it with you guys, with the Pogues. She started saying we spend too much time together and that I should dedicate more time to just the two of us.”

You nod, trying to see both sides. “And what did you say?”

“That there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with my friends. But then she got upset and said I never put her first.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s not true, but… I don’t know, maybe I messed up somewhere.”

You look at him with gentle understanding, seeing the weight he carries on his shoulders. “Pope, you know how much Cleo cares about you. But maybe she needs to feel more secure in your affection. Maybe your words made her think you don’t care enough.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes filled with frustration and pain. “But that’s not true. I do care, so much. I just… sometimes I don’t know how to show it.”

You place a hand on his arm, your touch light but reassuring. “You don’t have to have all the answers right away. Sometimes it’s just about listening to the other person and trying to understand them.”

He leans back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? I thought being with someone was supposed to be easier.”

You shake your head with a wistful smile. “Relationships are never easy, Pope. But if they’re worth it, you work to make them work.”

For a moment, silence fills the room, broken only by the sound of the waves in the distance. Then he leans slightly toward you, his gaze now softer but also more intense. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know? You’re always here for me, even when I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

Your heart beats a little faster at his words, but you try to stay calm. “That’s what friends are for, Pope.”

He offers a faint smile, a tired but genuine one. “You’re more than a friend to me, you know that?”

Your breath catches for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He moves closer, his face now only inches from yours. “I mean… I don’t know when it started, but lately, I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I’m with Cleo, part of me just wants to be here, with you.”

His words leave you speechless. You search his eyes, trying to discern whether he’s confused or sincere. But there’s no doubt in his gaze, only honesty.

“Pope…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you to get over Cleo. It’s not that. But tonight, when we fought, all I wanted was to come here. To be with you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. It’s a kiss that starts tentative, almost unsure, but as you respond, it deepens into something more intense, more passionate. His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the world around you fades away.

When you finally pull apart, both of you breathless, he looks at you with a kind of reverence tinged with uncertainty. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

You did not let him finish because you have re-cut your lips with his. You sucked his lip whining moaning.

Pope lies you on the couch while he takes off your clothes and then takes off his.

Pope looks at you for a moment to confirm that you want to do it, and you nod.

You moaned at how big and long Pope’s dick was. He smiled and kissed you softly, then came in with a quick blow, making both of them groan.

"You’re tighter than I imagined," Pope muttered as he began to move.

You groaned and then caught your lips with him

As the impulses of Pope increased fucking you with force venting all his anger and all his passion that had at that moment.

You could only groan with force while your pussy held Pope’s cock tightly making him moan while he fucked you harder while he chewed your neck leaving spots and bruises but you didn’t care, you were enjoying and getting even more excited at the same time.

You scratched his back feeling how it was destroying your pussy and left big scratches behind his back but neither of them cared, too taken by the moment and how you were fucking so well.

"you’re fucking me so well" You whimpered and he growled as he felt your pussy tighten even more around his cock two more shots and made you come then follow you by wheel cumming inside.

"the best sex of my life" he murmured as he joined your lips with hers again.

Pope still had his dick inside you and you felt it was getting hard again and you moaned as you were watching and stroked his hair.

"Round two?" He whispered and you smiled nodding

36 notes · View notes

cakepoppresent · 15 hours ago

Text

I Don't Stress About Losers

Poor Luna. Malcolm is a bitch her dad is a bitch now she has this weirdo hoe trying to mess with her bag

Transcript under the cut ~

Luna: So you’re telling me a few of my contracts have been cancelled?

Destiny: Just small ones like commercials and billboards, but they all called and said they would pay the termination fee. Apparently, they don’t want to work with you because of the news

Luna: Is that so?

Destiny: There’s more...

Luna: I’m listening...

Destiny: Chantel still wouldn’t share who gave her the information about your family but some of the people who cancelled said they were “persuaded” to replace you with that Akito girl. I pressed a little harder and they said her assistant was working real hard to take your resources by any means necessary

Luna: I beg your pardon?

Destiny: They’re purposely targeting you Luna! and I don’t understand why!!

Destiny: This is crazy! Do you even know who she is?? Why is she attacking you? Luna this is serious!! She’s trying to take your resources! She’s most likely the one who exposed your brother! and spread those lies all over SMZ!

Luna: Hmm...No need to freak out. Just a small time loser eating more than she can chew

Destiny: Luna!! We can’t just ignore this! We have to do something

Luna: Why do I need to stress about a loser?

Destiny: Yea Yea Yea you're THE Luna Villereal, you don’t need to worry about anything but this is about the principle! If she starts attacking you, others will think they can do it too! We have to nip this in the bud right now!

Luna: This is more funny than anything. All she did was spread some rumours and take a few low-level jobs. I still have the Vogue spread right?

Destiny: Yea...They said we don’t need to worry about it

Luna: Great. Ignoring the fact she’s spreading lies about my family, her trying to steal my work is much funnier don’t you think?

Destiny: Funny???! Wheres the joke!!? Im fighting for my LIFE trying to make sure SMZ stops reporting LIES on your name. And you think this is funny?

Luna: And I love you for that. Expect a big winter bonus.

Destiny: Luna!!

Luna: Its been so boring. Why don’t we have some fun yeah?

Destiny: Fun?

Destiny: Oh...How could I forget she tried to switch your name card with hers so she could sit next to Thorne Bailey. What about her?

Luna: Just a little. Remeber a few years back that simstagram influncer tried to take my seat at the starlight awards?

Destiny: Hmm...What do you need me to do?

Luna: Akito is just like her. A small time loser who doesn’t know her place. Lets use the Vogue Spread to show her where she belongs!

Luna: Just get her a spot, she can be on the full spread but not the actual cover. Let me know when that's done, then I’ll figure out the rest

Destiny: Other than that. Do you need me to do anything for you?

Luna: Yes actually. If you could clear up all the work I have lined up for the rest of the year that would be great. I’d like to put my focus on other things right now

Destiny: Already done. Are you...okay?

Luna: I’m okay...I have some family things I need to deal with. You don’t mind do you?

Destiny: Of course not. I’m just worried

Luna: Don’t worry Destiny I’m fine.

Destiny: Is Malcolm still being a bitch....

Luna: Yeah. He is but don’t worry I can handle his piss ass attitude...

Destiny: I know its not my place but don’t let him punish you or make you feel bad about wanting to get in touch with your older brother okay? He’ll come around once he sets some sense

Luna: I know. Just keep me updated on the Vogue spread and ignore SMZ they’ll get bored eventually

Destiny: Alright. I’ll call you later

#sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 gameplay #thereevesfamily #ts4 screenshots #ts4 simblr #ts4 screenies #ts4 simbrl #ts4 stories #ts4 story #i may change the image sized again cuz i make my sims talk a lot omg

40 notes · View notes

levandright · 5 hours ago

Note

Hello levv! Okay so if I had to describe myself, I see myself as a very talkative person. Like not going around and talking to everyone but talkative and extroverted in general. I have been called funny and comforting by friends. My sign is leo. Ideal type would be someone understanding and patient. Someone who’d be open to communicate and care. Favorite trope(s) might have to be rivals to lovers or grumpy x sunshine. And favorite season is winter! Hobbies are: sketching and baking. Group I’d like to be matched w is enhypen nd can I get a song as well?😁🙏🏻 thank youuu!🩷

FINDING YOUR MATCH...

MATCH FOUND! your match is... NISHIMURA RIKI

NI-KIlikes listening to you talk, it could be just you ranting about how your day went and he'd just be silently nodding along to what you say. he thinks your voice is really nice.

NI-KIthinks your presence is so comforting. when he's tired he would just lay down next to you, and he will immediately feel 5x better.

NI-KIwants to help you in the kitchen when you're baking, but would inevitably turn it into a chaotic (yet adorable) mess. flour fights? check! dropping ingredients? double check. in the end, he’d mostly just hang around to sneak hugs and make you laugh. whenever ni-ki feels stressed or tired, just the smell of your baked goods would instantly make him feel better. he’d hug you from behind while you work and say, “you’re my happy place, you know that?”

NI-KIis a sneaky snacker. he will constantly steal and eat the dough, chocolate or frosting laying around the counter when you're not looking. ends with him getting scolded when he's caught cause now you have to measure the ingredients out again to cover for the one's he ate.

NI-KIis your official taste tester! his critiques are not very dependable though, "needs 0.5% more sugar and 10x more chocolate."

NI-KIshows off the food you bake for him to the other members, "my girlfriend made this for me!" he says it so proudly, and ends up getting teased by the other members for that. "wow, didn't know our maknae can be like this~"

your custom playlist ʚɞ

ʚɞ lev notes : i had a blast writing the baking hc's so much, hope you like this <3 ʚɞ want to find your own match? apply here! ʚɞ curious about other matches?

#— ✮⋆˙ levandright 200 follower matchup ۶ৎ #۶ৎ LEV PLAYS MATCHMAKER 🎀#── .✦ matchup record ; entry 006 #matchup event #enhypen #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #nishimura riki #niki x reader #niki imagines #ni ki headcanons #riki headcanons #ni ki fluff #ni ki x reader #riki x reader

22 notes · View notes

lichpoweredbyfandoms · 2 days ago

Text

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF ARCANE SEASON 2

So uh…. the end of Arcane tore my heart out and shattered it into a million pieces. I may have blacked out and written a short, post-canon fic of Vi mourning for Jinx. Fic under the cut, or you can read it on ao3 here:

The dust from the war on Piltover had settled. Fires were extinguished, and bodies were buried. A worn hopefulness had spread over the city, broken bones held perfectly still with the slim chance they might mend. Everyone had lost something, and now only the question of what came next remained.

It was late at night, but Vi couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t been able to rest for more than a few hours at a time in the past few days. Most nights, she laid in bed besides Caitlyn, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, clinging to the reassurance that at least one person she loved was still here.

Silent feet hit carpet as Vi slipped out of bed. She let herself wander the Kiramman estate in silence. A ghost echoing through the hallway, haunted by the weight of all she’d lost.

At some point she found herself in the garden. The moonlight illuminated the array of flowers and trees that surrounded a marble water fountain. Vi settled herself at its edge, staring into the water. It shimmered blue, like the hextech crystals her sister had loved. Gentle ripples fanned out from its center with soft splashes, a mimicry of Jinx’s hair, loose and wild as it had been in the cell.

You’re never going to give up on me, are you? Another broken promise, another betrayal, another failure. It wasn’t fair. Vi had only ever asked for one thing. For her little sister to be safe right beside her. She wanted to cry and scream and throw things and rage against the entire fucking world until there was nothing left but ashes, because what was even the point if her sister wasn't-

“Vi?” A soft voice broke her from her thoughts. Caitlyn crouched down next to her, wearing a blue robe and a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

Vi looked away. “I just needed to think.”

“You miss your sister, don’t you?” she asked as she sat beside Vi.

“She can’t just be gone, Cait.” Her voice cracked around the plea. “Not after all this.”

“What happened to her… I know it was unfair,” Caitlyn said softly, “but you can’t blame yourself. Jinx made her choice.”

“Well she chose wrong!” Vi snapped.

“Maybe. But it was still her choice. Don’t take that away from her.”

“She never really listened to me,” Vi said with a wet laugh, “not when it really mattered. No one could tell her what to do.”

Caitlyn smiled sadly. “Your sister had so much spirit. So much energy.”

“You don’t have to…” Vi sighed. “She killed your mom. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

“I think we’re all more than our worst actions. Your sister included.” Caitlyn reached down and took her hand. “I only wish I’d had the chance to know the side of her you saw.”

“She was so smart. Even when we were little kids. She was always screwing around with some gadget or other.” Vi shook her head with a fond smile. “It drove Milo crazy sometimes. And she was so… good. I know how that sounds now, with everything she did, but…”

“I understand. I saw how much she loved you, Vi,” Caitlyn murmured.

“She just wanted to help,” Vi said despairingly, “even when everything was falling apart, even after I abandoned her… all she wanted was family. That’s why Silco got to her. That's why she died. Because I failed.”

“You were just a child,” Caitlyn reminded her gently.

“So was she!” Vi’s shouting gave way to sobs. “She was just a kid. And now she- she won’t get the chance to be anything else.”

Caitlyn pulled her into a tight hug, and she collapsed into her girlfriend’s arms. Vi wept bitter tears for her parents, their broken dreams for a better world, for Mylo and Claggor, two street kids who could have been so much more than were allowed to be, for Vander, his undying devotion to them all. She wept for Powder, that earnest little girl, and for Jinx, that wild fighter, and for every person her sister ever had been and would never be. And Vi cried for herself- for a family that had gone up in flames twice, for the miserable years she’d spent alone, for the hope she’d stubbornly hung onto all these years that had plummeted into the abyss with her sister. Vi wept and shook and sobbed, letting out all her anguish, all her pain, until she finally reached a point where she had no tears left inside her. Nothing left to give.

“I’m sorry for making you deal with this,” she whispered into Caitlyn’s chest.

“It’s alright.” Her girlfriend pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got you. Always.”

#arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane season two spoilers #arcane #arcane season 2 #vi #jinx #vi arcane #jinx arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #caitlyn arcane #vi x caitlyn #my writing #lich saves this #for later

21 notes · View notes

03junkie · 22 hours ago

Text

prompt: headline || i fucking hate this it’s so meta😭 || wc: 463 || @rosekillermicrofic || listen to ‘c’est la vie (lip filler)

News channels hardly had anything worthwhile to post anymore. Makes sense why Evan was headlining the morning news for ‘going viral’ for doing the bare minimum online. Evan knew he was somewhat famous on TikTok, but he could hardly care about that. He’d seen that account as a way to let off steam from his less-than-ideal tattoo apprenticeship. Slowly though, he’d started to see it as a business opportunity, so that he could have some disposable income in his pocket.

He hadn’t ever expected for his face to be plastered on local news alongside with an image of an objectively awful rapper. Evan was sure this man got lucky with his music, because there was no bleeding way anyone would unironically listen to what he put out. Evan had to admit though, the man was good-looking, and exactly his type. He had a rather goofy name too; Barty Crouch Jr. Evan would’ve ended his life if he was called Barty.

Anyway, Evan’s video played on loop as posh British accents narrated his “overnight success”. The video finally ceased, and he was met with the anchors’ faces. They were saying something about how they’ve got a special guest in the studio, and Evan was less than surprised with the fact that it was Barty Crouch Jr in the flesh. Evan was weirdly transfixed onto the screen.

‘So, Barty, we heard that this video did numbers for your song. Is that right?’ The woman to Barty’s right said.

‘Oh yeah, man. It’s crazy, really.’ The anchors looked less than pleased with this answer.

‘And what does your family have to say about it?’

‘As if I’d tell ‘em. They still think I’m rutting about at med school.’ At this, he laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

‘Well, do you plan to let them know?’ The anchors look uncomfortable now.

‘Yeah, for sure, if I want to lose my inheritance.’ Barty scrutinised the pair in front of him, almost watching them squirm in discomfort.

‘Er, what did you think of Evan Rosier’s video, seeing as it brought you so much fame?’ Barty had a grin on his face.

‘Fine shit. If you’re watching this, Rosier, hit me up, yeah? Maybe you can give me another hit. I’ve got a feelin’ we’d work well together.’ Evan was smiling too, subconsciously pulling his phone out his pocket. There were already a few comments on the video in question, all targeted towards this particular interview.

Evan opened Barty’s account, first following him, and then opening his newest post. Without thinking he commented, ‘hate ur song xx’.

#AUGHHHH I HATE IT #writers block can SUCK BALLS #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #barty x evan #evan x barty #slytherin skittles #dead gay wizards

23 notes · View notes

justwhisperingfantasies · 1 day ago

Text

The One That Got Away

Part 2

Characters: Reader, (Y/N), and nicknames babe(s). Jensen Ackles. Jared Padalecki. Misha Collins. Ruthie Connell. Rob Benedict. Osric Chau. Alexander Calvert. Briana Buckmaster. Eric Kripke. Lily (o.c) Abby (o.c) Brett (o.c)

Warnings: Drinking. Language. Angst. A smidgen of smut(not too graphic) Talk of blackmail, Talk of pregnancy loss, Cheating. Talks of past cheating.

Summary: You get pulled back into the magic of supernatural conventions and realize the love you once had is still there.

Word count: 6,275

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Hope y'all enjoy it. 💗

If you would like to be added to Tag List click here

Please don't copy my work

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗

Part 1

Jensen’s P.o.V

Jensen watched you walk away in Ruthie’s arms. He turned to Jared and sighed. “Exactly how much of that did you hear?”

“Well, I came in around blackmail. What the fuck is going on Ackles?” Jensen explained everything to him. Jared stood there in shock. “That’s pretty much the same look (y/n) had on her face too.”

“So, when you two told me you ended it because you were better as friends...”

“Yes Jared. We lied to you. Hell, we lied to everyone. I didn’t want to be painted fuckboy Ackles, and she didn’t want everyone feeling sorry for her. So, we lied.” He said again. “I’m sorry Jared.”

Jared took a second to process everything. “We tell each other everything. Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?”

“I. I don’t know man. I think I was just too ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Where and when did this happen?”

“You remember that party we went to right before the hiatus between season 7 and 8?”

“Yeah… That was 2012, right?” Jared asked, trying to remember.

Jensen nodded. “(y/n) had to leave early because the wreck, remember?”

“That’s right. But to be honest I was really drunk, and it was a long time ago.” Jared shook his head. “What I don’t get Jay. You were going to ask her to marry you the next day. I went with you to buy the ring. I don’t see you throwing away everything you guys had drunk or not.”

“Jared, I don’t remember anything from that night. I remember dropping off at the airport. Next thing I know is I’m waking up in a stranger’s bed naked.

“You don’t remember it at all?”

“Nope.” Jensen gestured for them to go inside. “I tried Jared. I tried to find her during hiatus. She wouldn’t return my phone calls. No one would tell me where she was. Then Kelsey called me telling me she was pregnant and started with the blackmail.

“Dude again why didn’t you tell me?”

Jensen sighed. “I didn’t want her to have any more power than she already had. If she knew that you knew she could use me to get you to do whatever she wanted.”

“How did she do it? Like what did she threaten you with?” Jared asked as they made their way to the elevator

“Media mainly. Before she lost the baby, she threatened to go to everyone and anyone that would listen about how I knocked her up and left her and the baby. Then after, I’d be the asshole that left the mother after just losing the baby. I was young and just starting out. I believed everything she said. You know how one dumb rumor can ruin someone’s life or career. I just wish I would of went to my dad sooner.”

“I wish you would have told me, but I understand why you felt like you couldn’t. I’m sorry I should have known something was wrong.” He hit the call button

“J.P Don’t do that; you have nothing to be sorry for. You wouldn’t of had a reason to doubt anything, from what I hear I’m a pretty good actor.” He smiled. Jared let out a soft chuckle “besides we can’t change the past. We can only learn from it, move on, and try to repair the damage.”

“Yea... At least she knows the truth now. Maybe you guys could get back”

“I’m not.”

“Jensen. I was going to say get back to being friends.

“I don’t know Jared she’s pretty hurt and didn’t say much even after I told her.”

“Give her time to process everything. You might be surprised.” The doors opened and they walked through, hitting the button with their floor number.

“I’m not getting my hopes up.” Just then Jensen’s phone went off. It was a text from a number he didn’t recognize. He raised his eyebrows as he read.

“What?!” Jared asked.

“Jensen don’t call Eric. Just think about it.”

“Well told ya you might be surprised.”

Reader’s P.o.V

You woke to a knock on your hotel door. “Go away!” you yelled.

“I have coffee.” You heard someone yell back.

“Ok hold on.” You rubbed your temples trying to get the slight headache to stop as you sat up. You got up and looked in the mirror. You quickly ran a brush through your hair and splashed some cold water on your puffy eyes.

There was another knock. “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

“Keep your panties on.” you yelled as you walked to the door. “Lily? What are you doing here? How’s your dad?” you opened the door wider and stepped out of the way.

“My dad is fine. Just a broken wrist.” She handed you a cup of coffee stepping through the doorway. You closed the door behind her. “The truck not so much, but it could have been way worse.”

“Well, that’s good. But what are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you.” she said sitting down on the sofa.

“For real?”

“Yep, you’re off the hook babes. You can go home.” She looked up from her coffee. “What’s that look?”

“What look?”

“That look. He got to you.”

“Lily. It’s not like that.”

“Ugh I knew you coming here was a bad idea. I swear I’m to kick.”

“Lil. I have to tell you something.” You sat beside her and told her everything.

“Oh my god.”

“I know”

“Oh my god!”

“Can you say anything else?”

“So, he didn’t love her.”

“Apparently not.”

“I thought something felt off, but I just thought it was the energy from whatever happened between you two.”

“Lily you’re not psychic”

“But I am psychic adjacent.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not a thing.”

“Wait. Not trying to be a Debbie downer here, but how do you know he wasn’t lying?”

“He wasn’t lying.” you assured her.

“How do.”

“Because I know Lil.” She looked at you. “Trust me I know.”

“Oh my god. So does this mean y’all are gonna get back together?”

You sighed. “Lily, I can’t.” she gave you a puzzled look. “don’t look at me like that you know why.”

“Right.” She took a drink of her coffee

“You still love him...”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Jensen’s P.o.V

As he waited to go through the curtain for the morning gold panel, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would be sitting in her seat. He smiled at the thought.

“You ready man?” Jared asked. He nodded. “Let’s go.”

They walked out on-stage waving and blowing kisses at the crowd. His eyes glanced down hoping to see her face. Nope damnit. The women sitting her sitting in (y/n)’s seat waved. He furrowed his brows but waved back. What the hell was Lily doing here. Did (y/n) leave?

“Jensen you ready for questions?”

“Yes, sorry. Need more coffee.” He said the cup in his hand with a smile, the audience laughed. “Alright, your blue hoodie.”

. She left and the only relationship you would have at this point would be professional. Come on Jensen head in the panel he thought

“Jensen? You ok man? “Jared asked nudging his arm

“Yep. What was the question?”

Jared repeated it to him, and he did his best to answer it. As the minutes ticked by and the questions kept coming, he tried his best to stay focused. He managed it for most of the panel except when Jared got a question and his mind started to wander, but Jared knew what was going on, so he tried to keep Jensen engaged in conversation with his answers.

“Alright. Thank you, guys. We love you all. Take care.” They walked to the opening of the curtain. “Ok how bad was it?”

“The beginning was rocky, after you got out of your head it was bad at all.” Jared promised him. “You gonna be, ok?”

“Gonna have to be.”

Jared sighed. “Is there anything I can do?”

Jensen smiled. “Unless you got a Jennie, not really”

“So, you boys have some time before your meet and greet. Y’all hungry?”

His whole body froze. She didn’t leave.

Reader’s P.o.V

Jared spun around, “(y/n) we thought you left.”

You took a step back and raised your hands. “Do not pick me up Padalecki!”

He laughed. Jensen finally turned around.

Jared could feel the tension between the two of you. “let’s go get some grub.” He turned around and started walking. You and Jensen followed.

You and Jensen followed in awkward silence.

“So have you thought about the part?” you asked Jensen

“Yea. I think it would be fun. He is a complete dickhead though.”

“Oh, a total scumbag, but.”

“You’re really going to defend him?”

“I agreed with you.”

“With a but.”

“Ben is the character you love to hate. You know he’s fucked up and yet you find your self hoping he will do the right thing. Who knows maybe this whole asshole thing is just a front.” Jensen raised his eyebrows at you. “The guy has ptsd, been tortured by the Russians for years, screwed over and used by Vought, screwed over by his own team and the woman that supposed loved him. I think if we got the right guy to play him, he could be a real fan favorite” You nudged into him.

“Why do you have such a hard on for this character?” he asked as he opened the green room door for you.

You took a step, then turned to him “I guess I just have a thing for assholes.” You teased.

Jensen’s jaw dropped. “Wow! That was a cheap shot.”

You walked to the fridge and pulled out 2 bottles of water, tossing one at Jensen. He caught it and took a drink.

“Plus, you’d look good super suit, Ackles.” You said laughing as you sat on the couch.

He chuckled and sat beside you laying his arm across the back of the couch behind you.

You heard the door open and looked up when you heard your nickname. “Babes! You’re still here?!” Misha sat down on the other side of you. “And still wearing that Cowboys hat I see.” He flicked the bill of your baseball cap.

“Be careful Collins. If you hurt this hat I will hurt, you.” You pulled the bill back down and stroked it. “And yes, every game day.”

“Is that the one you stole?” Jensen chimed it.

“I did not steal it.”

“Yes, you did. You came to grab me for a scene.” He winked at you “You asked to borrow it because you didn’t have a scrunchy.”

“I’m still borrowing it.”

“10 years later?” Jensen raised his eyebrows.

“Yep.”

He smiled and shook his head.

Before you could stop it, the memory was already replaying in your head.

Year 2008:

“We gotta get back babe, Sgriccia said 25 minutes.”

“I don’t want to.” You protested.

“Trust me. I’d rather lay here with you like this.” He lifted the sheet for a peek “Come on just a couple of scenes and we will be right back here. Exactly like this.” He waggled his eyebrows making you smile.

“Promise?”

He smiled. “I promise.” He kissed you. He got up and picked your clothes up and laid them on the bed.

You got dressed and looked in the mirror. Your hair was a wreck. “Can I borrow a hat?”

“A hat?”

“Yes, someone made my hair all messy.” You pointed at him and mouthed the word you, making him laugh. “I don’t have a brush or scrunchy to fix it and I know your ass has a million hats around here.” He handed you his new Dallas cowboy’s hat. “Thank ya love.” He nodded with a smile.

“You ready?” he asked holding out your coat for you.

“Yep.” You put your arms in and turned to face him. He gave you one more kiss. “I love you, Ross.”

“I love you too baby.”

Jensen cleared his throat bringing you back. You looked at him, his eyes told you he was reminiscing as well. You shot up off the couch and awkwardly walked over to the fridge. You opened it and pretended to look for something.

“Look who I found.” Abby said walking through the door with Lily following her. “Did we plan a reunion this weekend?”

You smiled. “Don’t even try to pretend like you don’t love seeing our faces, Abigail.” She narrowed her eyes as you said her full name. you blew her a kiss with a dramatic mwah sound.

“Hey, are you guys going to Rob’s thing tonight?” Jared asked you walk

“What thing?”

“I guess Louden Swain is having a pop-up at the bar across the street tonight.”

“I don’t know.” You looked over to Lily who was attempting puppy dog eyes with her bottom lip pouted. You sighed. “You guys and you’re damn puppy eyes.”

Lily’s face perked up. “Is that a, yes?”;

“Yes.” You said walking toward the door “Come on boys. Meet and greet time. Jensen and Jared followed you. “You too Lily?” you held your elbow out to her. She linked her arm in yours and you walked out the door.

You watch Jensen and Jared interact with their fans with a smile on your face. You felt someone nudge your arm. “Hey there.” Osric said.

You smiled at him “What’s up Oz?”

“Nothin. Hanging out.

“Sounds fun.”

You look back at Jensen. He was watching you. His face was hard, and his brows scrunched together. You raised your hands and eyebrows in a what gesture.

“He’s jealous.” Osric said.

“Oh, shut up. He is not.”

“You want me to prove it?” you rolled your eyes and Osric put his arm around you. You watched Jensen’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

“Don’t piss him off. You shook off Osric’s arm. “But why would he be jealous of you?”

“He knows I had a thing for you back in the day.”

“Speaking of things from back in the day.” You nodded your head towards Lily who was walking up carrying 2 carriers full of coffee cups. Osric smiled.

She sat down the 2 cup carriers she had in her arms and pulled out your coffee. “Here you go.” She said holding it out to you.

“Lily you could ask for help ya know.”

“Eh I’m used to it, Oh, hey Osric. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, good.” The awkward tension made you cringe. He said, “Here, let me help you” he picked up one of the carriers.

“See ya around Babes.” He winked at you, and you nodded as they walked away.

Jensen’s face relaxed and you shook your head at him. His attention went back to his face, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched. He was so good to his fans. He smiled at you and your heart fluttered. Man, why did he have to go and fuck everything up? You stood there pondering how much different you life would be with him.

“So, can I ask how the whole babe/babes thing started?” An unfamiliar voice made you jump. You looked over to find Alexander standing next to you.

“Really?! Nobody’s told you the story?”

“No. Everyone just says that’s what we’ve always called her.”

“Hmm. Ok. So back in season 3 Jensen and I started dating, everyone kind of new, but nobody really pressed us about it. We wanted to stay professional on set and around our co-workers. One day Jensen let babe slip out on set. Padalecki and Beaver started calling me babe to mock him and it just kind of stuck. Next thing you know everyone was doing it.”

“How long did you guys’ date?”

“Almost 4 years.”

“So, what happened?”

“We were just better off as friends. I guess,”

“I call bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“It seriously took you almost 4 years to realize you were better off as friends?”

“Babes.” Abby walked over to you “Can you take the boys out to lunch for me? I got something I have to take care of.” Abby grabbed you, you waved and Alex nodded as she drug you away.

“Am I gonna get paid for today?”

“Put it on my tab.” She smiled at you.

You made your way over to the table as the event ended. “Y’all hungry?”

“Starving.” Jensen said and Jared nodded.

“Well come on. We are going out for lunch.”

“Who’s we?” Jensen asked.

“You, Jared, Lily, and me?”

“Ok I’ll go.”

“I mean if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t wanna be the third wheel to you and Osric.”

“Really Jensen?”

“Well, you looked pretty cozy a minute ago.”

You rolled your eyes. You motioned Lily and started walking toward the elevators. She met you on your way. “You, ok?”

“Jensen being Jensen.” you looked over your shoulder, the boys were a way back but following.

“So, Lily, You’re a cast p.a now?” Jared said trying to relieve the awkward tension in the air that lingered around the table.

“Yeah, It’s a lot of fun. So much better than a grip assistant.”

“You gonna follow in (y/n)’s footsteps and become a writer?”

You smiled at her. “No. I could never. I really don’t know how she does it. It’s amazing. I wish you could read her work right now. What she did with Soldier Boy was awesome.”

Jensen’s eyes snapped up to you and your smile faded. “You wrote Soldier Boy?” he asked.

“I helped develop him for television.” His green eyes leered at you. “I did not create him myself.”

“Helped?” Lily continued “Eric loved everything you suggested for him. She made him so good. He’s a dick, but you got to love him.”

You sighed and went back to your plate. “Hey Eric.” Your eyebrows raised when you heard Jensen say Eric’s name. “I’m good bud. How are you?” He laughed. You looked back up at him. Shit he was probably going to say no. You didn’t think Eric would fire you over it, but it wasn’t out of the question. “Well, you know I had to get woo-ed first.” He laughed again. “Yeah, she is good at getting what she wants huh.” More laughter. “Yes sir. Write me up a contract. Me and Frank will meet up with y’all” He listened. “Alright man I’ll talk to you later… bye” he hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. Your phone buzzed. You looked it and read the message.

Eric: Thank you!

You smiled as you turned the screen off and put your phone back on the table. The waitress came back over “Can I get you guys anything else?” she batted her eyes at Jensen, he flashed a smile at her. “No darlin’ just the check.” You rolled your eyes as he winked at you.

You stepped up to the elevator’s call button and pressed it. Jared and Jensen walked up as you waited. Jensen stood beside so close your arms were touching. The doors open and you start to walk but Jensen stopped you. “We’ll meet y’all up there. I have to talk to (y/n).” Lily looked at you and you nodded. The doors shut.

“What?” You asked but he stayed silent and then pressed the call button once Jared and Lily started going up. “’Jensen. What do you want?”

The second set of doors opened, and He gestured you to go first. You got in and leaned against the back wall.

“Ya know babes, You’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” He pushed the button for your floor and turned around.

“What?��

“The waitress at lunch. I noticed your eye rolls and dirty looks.”

You sighed. “Have you ever heard the story about the kettle and pot?”

He gave you a flirty smile. “So, what if I was?” He closed the space between you and slid his hands on your face, bringing his lips just inches away from yours. His eyes searching yours for a refusal, but you didn’t give one. His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. Electricity coursed through your veins. Before you could stop them, your arms wrapped around his neck deepen the kiss further. His arms found their way around your waist pulling you into him. The elevator dinged and reality set back in ending the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours.

“Jensen.” you whimpered between pants.

“Please don’t ruin this.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Just tell me why and it will never come up again.

“I’m getting married.

“Bullshit. Padalecki would have told me.” He tilted his head to kiss you again

You pulled back. “Jared doesn’t know.” His eyes shot open.

“When?”

“5 weeks.”

“You’re getting married in 5 weeks and you didn’t invite Jared?” He asked, bringing his forehead back down to yours.

“Family only. You know I never wanted a big wedding.”

His face scrunched in pain. “Do you still love me?”

“Jensen...” you blinked back tears.

Your breath hitched as his hands smacked his palms against the wall. “Just answer the question!” He demanded.

You couldn’t stop the tears any longer. You nudged him. He didn’t move. “Jensen Please.”

He stepped out of the way, and you walked off the elevator. Your phone started to ring on the way back to your room. Your phone started to ring. Fucking fantastic you thought as you saw the name.

“Hey,” your voice cracked as you answered your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Brett asked.

“Nothing.”

“Eric just told me the news.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Congrats. I didn’t think you’d be able to actually pull it off babe.”

You hmphed. “Well thanks.”

“Don’t take it like that. Hey gotta go Angela needs me.”

“Oh of course.” The tears started again.

“Don’t be like that. She’s, my boss.”

“And she totally has a thing for you.”

“You’re Being crazy.”

“Yep. I’m the problem.”

“Seriously? I gotta go. Can we finish this later?”

“Yep.” You hung up

“Hey, what happened?” Lily asked as you opened the door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You threw his hat on your bed and headed for the bathroom.

Jensen’s P.o.V.

“The answer was always going to be yes, J.p” he said as they walked off the elevator. “I just wanted more time with her.” “And did it help?” “Kind of yea.” Jared rolled his eyes. “I guess in a fucked-up way. At least the truth is out now. Maybe y’all can work on being friends now.” “I don’t think it will ever be the way it was. He said as they started across the street. “Well maybe you should try to find a new way to be friends with her.” They walked through the doors and the bar was packed. “I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Jensen pointed at the bar and Jared nodded. Jensen’s eyes scanned the room for her, but she was nowhere to be found. “She’s not here yet.” He sat down on the barstool next to Ruthie. “But she told me she was coming and she’s not one to break her word.” She took a drink. “You guys ok now?” “Honestly Ruthie. I have no idea. I did something stupid.” “Well, that doesn’t surprise me.” she teased. “Oh, gee thanks.” He smiled. “I was being malicious dear, just trying to say you do dumb shit when you’re in love.” “Do you know?” Ruthie’s eyebrows creased, “In 5 weeks.” “Yes, I know.” She sighed. “He’s an arsehole. I wish she would see it.” “Really?” “I shouldn’t be telling you this.” She took another drink. “We’ll blame it on the whiskey.” She winked at him. “I know you would treat her a million times better. Hell, she probably knows it. She’s just letting the past scare her.” He opened his mouth, but she put her hand up. “I know Jensen. But you will have o prove it to her.” He nodded. Jared walked back up and their phones went off at the same time “The cowboys won!!” Jared yelled, turning around. And leaning his back on the bar. “Finally stopped that losing streak.” Jensen said as they bumped fists. “You want a beer?” Jared nodded. Jensen go the bartender’s attention “3 Coronas Please.” Jared gave him a puzzled look. “She’ll be here.” The bartender sat down the beers and Jensen handed him his card. “Start a tab.” The bartender nodded. “Thank you.” “Dude.” “You can send me your half later.” “There she is.” Jared yelled and Jensen turned around on the stool. Damn she looked good. Tight jeans, white tee, He smiled when he saw she still had his hat on, but even with the makeup he could tell she’d been crying. “How bout dem boys? Huh?” She smiled. “What are we drinking?” “Whatever you want princess.” Jared teased. “Tequila.” She turned around. “Bri. Come do a shot with me.” “Hell yea.” “Ruthie. You want one?” “Not tonight boys. We have an early flight tomorrow.” She told them. “I’ll take Ruthie’s” (y/n) said. “I’ll do a second one with her.” Bri said Jensen raised his eyebrows. “You’re gettin drink tonight huh?” “I’m having fun tonight.” She smiled again “Alright.” Jared counted. “6 shots of tequila please.” The bartender brought over the shots with lime slices and a saltshaker. Jared picked up the saltshaker “Hands.” Jared said and licked his own hand. The three of them licked between their thumb and index finger, then held them up to Jared. He poured salt where they licked. “Limes” he said as he handed them each a lime. “Shots.” He handed each of them a glass and brought his into the center of them. They clinked their shot glasses together as they licked the salt and then took the shot. “Ready for another one?” Bri asked you “Yes ma’am.” Jared held out the saltshaker and the girls repeated the process. Jensen couldn’t help but smile at the face she made when she took the lime out of her mouth. “Still not a fan of limes I see.” “No not really.” She confirmed. “I gotta pee.” Bri grabbed (y/n)’s hand and drug her to the bathroom. Jared turned to Jensen. “She’s been crying.” “I know Jared.” Jensen cleared his throat. “My fault.” “Maybe we should just lock you two in a room and let you scream it out.” Jensen chuckled. “Keep buying Tequila shots and it will probably happen.” “I don’t know Ackles. She’s the happiest drunk I’ve ever seen. Might make the situation better.” Jared smiled deviously. “Well judging by that smile, I guess we will find out.”

Reader’s P.o.V

“Ok spill.” Bri said as the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “the way you guys are looking at each other, ya know like you used to.”

“Bri. I’m supposed to be getting married in 5 weeks.”

“What?! You and Jensen. Oh my god final.”

“No not Jensen. His name is Brett. He works with me on the boys.”

“Oh. Why the supposed to be.”

“I don't know.” You told her about the conversation you had earlier today and the big fight you had before you came out. “When I told him I was going out with my supernatural friends, he lost his shit.”

“If he doesn’t make you happy. You need to call it off.”

“But everything has already been paid for and its not bad all the time.”

“Do you really want to get married because everything has been paid for?”

“You have a point.”

“Look just have fun with us tonight. Really let your hair down. You deserve fun. Tomorrow go home and hash it out with him. If you guys can’t come to an understanding, I’d say kick him to the curb. Deal?”

“Deal. Now go pee so we can go back to drinking.” She chuckled with you.

“Another round of shots?” Jared asked as you walked up to them.

“Maybe we should slow down a bit J.p.” Jensen suggested.

“Aw what’s wrong cowboy? Can’t handle your liquor anymore.”

He raised his eyebrow and gestured for another round. “Add another one.” Jensen told Jared as Lily walked up.

“Lily!!” You and Bri yelled together.

She smiled. “Really boys? I leave her alone with you for 5 minutes and she’s taking tequila shots?”

“I am a grown up. and I’ve only had 2.

“Bout to be 3.” Jared said turning around with the saltshaker. “Hands.”

“Can we get a lemon slice please?” Jensen asked the bartender. He sat the shots down and got in the fridge.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

The 5 of you repeated the took the shots and slammed the glasses on the bar.

“Bri!” you heard someone yell.

“I’ll be back.” Bri said and walked away.

You sat the deflated lemon slice on the counter. Leaning on the bar closer to him than you probably should have. “Is this for me?” You asked, pointing to the extra beer sitting by Jensen’s.

“Yep.” He said and picked his up.

“Well thank you.”

“No problem princess.” He teased and you squinted at him.

“How much time before they come on?” Lily asked.

Jared looked at his watch. “About 45 minutes.”

“(y/n), let’s go play a song” Lily said pointing at the fancy jukebox. You grabbed your beer and followed her.

“Really babe, Tequila shots?” she questioned you.

“Yes, Tequila shots. Lily, I have had a rough week. I want to have a fun night with my friends. So quit being a buzzkill and have fun with me, please.”

“Alright.” She walked up to the bar. You started scrolling through the songs. Lily came back over holding 2 shots. Your jaw dropped. “Let’s have fun then.” You clicked the glasses and took the shot. You turned back to the jukebox as she took your glass and returned it back to the bar.

“Yes!” you slid your card and tapped the song you wanted. You looked over at Jensen who smiled as soon as the music started. “His eyes are cold and rest” You sang “And his wounds have almost healed.” His smile got bigger.

“And she’d give half of Texas, just to change the way he feels.” Jared belted out making you laugh.

“She knows his loves in Tulsa.” You yelled back at him. Making your way back over to the boys.

“And she knows he’s gonna go.” Jared said turning to you

“But it ain’t no women flesh and blood, it’s that damned old rodeo.” You and Jared sang loudly. Everybody laughed.

You turned to Jensen who was shaking his head. “What’s wrong Ackles, did you forget the words?” you teased him.

“No, just not 4 shots deep yet, darlin.”

“4?”

“Her and Lily snuck one without us.”

Jared shook his head at you.

You smiled. “Better catch up Padalecki.”

He looked over to Jensen. “2 more Jay.?”

“Come on Ross. Live a little.” You gave him a cheeky grin.

He chuckled “Alright let’s go.” He got the bartender’s attention and held up 4 fingers.

“Hello?” lily answered her phone. “Yes, Brett she’s right here hold on.” You rolled your eyes as she held her phone out to you.

You took it and put it to your ear. “Hey. Hold on.” You turned and walked toward the door.

Jensen’s P.o.V

“Who’s Brett?” Jared asked as he and Jensen sat their empty glasses down. Thank you for asking Jared. Jensen thought to himself.

“Another writer on the show.” Lily said as she stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink.

“Why is he calling your phone looking for (y/n)?” Jared asked clinking glasses with Jensen before they took the second shot.

“He asked if she was ok. She wasn’t answering her phone. She probably forgot it and didn’t want to go back up.”

“My tab.” Jensen told the bartender as he took Lily’s drink and held it out to her.

“Thanks Jay.” She said as she took it from him.

“No problem.” He grabbed his beer.

“Come on Ackles. Let’s go play some music.”

Jensen nodded and followed Jared over to the jukebox.

“Did she mention this Brett guy to you?” he asked Jared as he slid his card in the card reader. He picked a song “You’re up.”

“No. Why would she?” Jared asked searching for the song he wanted. “Now You.” They switched spots.

“I don’t know. It just seems odd.” He searched for her favorite. Jared rolled his eyes.

“You’re over thinking it. you need to get out of that jealous ex-boyfriend headspace bro.”

“I know its just hard with her.” He makes the final choice. “Done.”

“Jared!!” Mark yelled from one of the tables.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be at the bar.”

Jensen started back to his seat to find (y/n) sitting in it. “I think you’re in my seat little lady.”

She spun around to face him. “Well, ya know what they say about moving your feet.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky.” He stood beside her leaning on the bar.

She smiled. “Or you’re just yellow bellied.”

He laughed. “I’d watch that mouth.”

“Oh, or what?”

“You really don’t wanna go there.”

She giggled. “So tough.” He smirked and shook his head.

He leaned against the bar and took a drink of his beer. “So, is everything alright? Lily said that Brett guy was worried about you.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Just that he’s another write for The Boys, you weren’t answering your phone, so he got worried and called Lily’s phone. Where is Lily anyway?”

“Bathroom.” She took a drink. “Everything is fine.”

“You know I know when you’re lying right?” Jensen asked and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m not lying we got into an argument, but everything is fine now.”

“An argument about what?” She stayed silent. “Ohh that’s him. huh. The guy you are supposed to marry?”

“Yea.” She sighed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Thought we were trying this whole friend thing out?”

“So be my friend and drink with me. I wanna have fun. Make me forget my problems.”

“They’ll still be there in the morning.”

“Then I’ll deal with them then.” She took the last drink of her beer. “Or I can just got get Bri.” She got the bartender’s attention and pointed at her beer.

“Another for you sir?” the bartender asked as he sat down (y/n)’s beer.

“Yes, please and 2 more shots.” She smiled.

“Oh of course you’d play this song.”

He smiled. “Mama told me, When I was young.” Her face lit up when he started singing, making his heart do a little flutter. "Come sit beside me, my only son, and listen closely to what I say, and if you do this it'll help you Some sunny day"

“Still got that pretty voice huh?”

“Guess so.”

The bartender sat the shots on the bar. “Uh what’s this?” Lily asked as she walked back up to you and Jensen. Jared was right behind her.

“Thought y’all were going do one without us?”

She looked at him and giggled.

“Add 2 more"

Reader’s P.o.V.

“Come on I wanna get a good spot.” Lily yelled.

Jensen grabbed your hand “follow me.” you grabbed Lily’s hand, and she grabbed Jared’s arm. Jensen led you guys almost to the front. You stood next to him looking down at his hand still holding yours. “Sorry.” He let it go.

You didn’t know if it was your feelings or the 6 shots of tequila you had, but you felt kind of disappointed. You shook it off. The band came out and the crowd went crazy. You couldn’t help but smile at Jensen as he cheered. Just as Rob started to sing some big muscle bond guy stepped in front of you. Blocking your view.

Then you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in front of him so you could see. He dropped his hands, but you could feel him behind you. Lily came over wiggling her hips and singing along with the band. You downed the rest of your beer and started to do the same.

“Lily!!” you heard someone yell. You look over and Lily is dancing her way to Osric. You leaned back and found Jensen’s neck pulling his ear down to you. “Is your jealousy cured now?” you pointed over to them, they were dancing together now.

He brought his lips to your ear. “Almost.”

“What does that mean?”

"Still got one more to get rid of." He licked his lips keeping his bottom lip in his teeth.

Shit maybe the tequila was a bad idea. You couldn’t stop yourself. You had to fill his lips again. You pulled him down, smashing your lips together in needy desire. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Pulling you to him, you parted your lips and shivers ran up your spine when he slides his tongue on yours making you roll your hips. He let out a small growl and thrusted his hips. letting you feel his hardening shaft on your ass. Making you moan softly. He pulled back and spun you around. His hands found your ass and pulled you close again. And his lips were back on yours. Your arms slid around his neck. Pulling him into you just as hard as he was pulling you into him. He double tapped your right thigh, and you brought your knee up to his hip. Flames shot from your core as he hooked his hand under your ass and pushed his hardness into you. You trailed kisses up to her ear.

“You wanna get out of here Cowboy?

TAG LIST

@deansgirl010101

@mariahoedt

@nightxcreature

@quietgirll75

#jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen fanfic #spnfandom #jensen and jared #jared and jensen #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #spn #female reader #x reader #reader insert #angst

23 notes · View notes

nausicaamusiclover20 · 1 day ago

Note

Heyy Nausicaa!!

I love all of your fics, you're an amazing writer!

So, could you do a fic about mop era James hetfield and the reader? They r best friends and the reader gets a bf and James doesn't like him bc he's toxic but the reader doens't see him as toxic. They get in a fight outside the bar she told James about her bf and James is drunk telling the reader how he could be a better bf than her current bf is. The fight ends when the reader starts walking to her bf's house and James runs to her bc he doens't want her to go there. Soo they walk to james' apartment. At the apartment James agrees to sleep on the couch so the reader coul sleep in his room. They go to sleep but James can't sleep so he sneaks in his bedroom where the reader is sleeping and lays next to her and cuddles her. The next morning they wake up in each others arms and the reader finally comes to her senses about her current bf that he's toxic. Then she breaks up with him over the phone. James is real happy and then they cuddle some more and then... Suprise suprise they get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 😏🤭

Thank you so much, I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mature themes, sexual content, emotional intensity, toxic relationship,

Breaking Through

James Hetfield had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We’d been through it all together—the wild nights, the heavy conversations, the laughter, and even the silence that spoke louder than words. Our friendship had always been easy, natural, and unspoken in a way that felt comfortable. We didn’t need to say it, but we both knew we’d always have each other’s backs.

And then there was him. My boyfriend.

It started innocently enough, just a guy who caught my attention. At first, he seemed perfect—charming, funny, easygoing. We fit together, or so I thought. But James hated him. And that wasn’t something I was used to. James wasn’t a guy who hated easily. If anything, he gave people the benefit of the doubt. But not this guy. And at first, I didn’t get it. I thought he was just being overprotective. But the more I ignored his warnings, the more I started to feel it in my gut—something wasn’t right.

I should’ve listened to him.

Tonight, the tension had reached a breaking point. I found myself outside a bar, feeling a little too buzzed from the drinks I’d had, standing in front of James, ready to tell him everything about the latest drama in my relationship. I thought I could keep it casual, tell him I was fine, but James had other plans.

We stood under the glow of the streetlight, the night air crisp against my skin. James leaned against the brick wall of the bar, cigarette in hand, but he wasn’t smoking. He was just looking at me with those blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

“Hey,” I said, trying to break the silence.

“Hey,” he replied, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. His gaze didn’t leave me. “What’s going on? You look... off.”

I shrugged, playing it off. “Just the usual stuff. My boyfriend’s being weird, but you know, it’s fine.”

James pushed off the wall, stepping closer. “You’re not fine, Y/N. I can see it. You’re not fine.”

I froze. There it was again—his ability to see straight through me. He always had it, but tonight, it hit differently.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to mask the nerves in my voice.

“Don’t lie to me,” James said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m your friend. I know when something’s wrong.” He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re with him, but you’re not happy. Why are you staying in something that’s pulling you down?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. How could I explain it to him? How could I tell him that I didn’t want to face the truth? That maybe, just maybe, he was right?

“Y/N,” James continued, stepping closer again, his voice lower now, “You deserve better than this guy. He doesn’t care about you the way you think he does. I can see it, and you can too, if you’d just let yourself.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “You don’t know him like I do, James. He’s not perfect, but he’s mine.”

James took a sharp breath. His expression was tight now, frustrated. “That’s the problem, Y/N. He’s dragging you down. And you deserve better than this. I care about you more than he ever will, and I’m not gonna sit here and watch you get hurt.”

His words landed like a slap, but they weren’t angry—just raw. And for the first time, I realized just how much he really meant it. This wasn’t about him wanting me for himself—this was about him wanting me to be happy, wanting me to be free from something that was suffocating me.

I stepped back, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. My heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

“You know I’m right,” James said quietly. “I could be a better boyfriend to you than he ever could.”

My breath caught. Was he serious? He had always been there for me—sure, he’d always been my friend—but this was different. This was… something else.

“James…” My voice faltered. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But James shook his head, a frustrated, pained expression crossing his face. “I’m not drunk, Y/N. I’m not. I’m just telling you what I see. And what I see is you settling for someone who doesn’t care about you the way I do.”

I felt a sharp sting in my chest, my mind reeling. I had no idea how to respond, so instead of saying anything, I just turned away. The cold night air hit my face as I started walking, desperate to get away from the conversation, away from everything.

But James wasn’t having it. “Where are you going?” he called after me, his voice urgent.

I didn’t answer, just kept walking in the direction of my boyfriend’s house.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he said, his footsteps loud behind me. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I felt my frustration rise. “I’m fine, James. I’m going to him. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he said, voice firm. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anything, and I won’t just stand by and watch you walk into a situation that’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go there.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to process the weight of his words. Everything inside me wanted to keep going, to ignore what he was saying, but a part of me was scared. Scared of what I was doing, scared of what James was saying.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking a little. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I stopped walking, my body trembling with the weight of everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared. Scared of the relationship I was in, scared of how tangled I had gotten in something that wasn’t good for me.

I turned around slowly, looking at James. He was standing a few feet behind me, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression softening. For the first time in a long time, I saw it. The care, the love, the pure concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I won’t go.”

James exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. Without a word, he started walking toward me. “I’ll take you back to my place. We’ll talk it through. I won’t let you go through this alone.”

When we reached his apartment, James didn’t push. He just opened the door and let me step inside. The familiarity of the space, the comfort of it, felt strange in the best way. I was used to this place, but tonight, it felt different.

“You can sleep in my room,” James said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll take the couch. I won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to.”

I nodded, too emotionally drained to protest. I needed space, but I also needed comfort. I slipped into his room, wrapping myself in the warmth of his bed, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Eventually, I felt the bed shift. A warmth spread beside me, and I froze. I looked over my shoulder, and there he was—James, his face relaxed as he laid down beside me, his arm gently around my waist.

I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to. It felt right. It felt safe. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.

I closed my eyes and let myself rest, my mind swirling with everything that had happened, but somehow feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the window. I turned over slowly, and there he was—James, still holding me close, his arm wrapped around me protectively. For a moment, I just lay there, taking in the peacefulness of the moment.

I didn’t know how to put it into words, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. My relationship had been toxic. I had known about it for a while, but I hadn’t wanted to face it. Now, with James here, so close, so real, I finally understood.

I reached for the phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number.

When he answered, I didn’t hesitate. “It’s over,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m done.”

The phone call had ended, but the weight of my past relationship still hung in the air like a fog. I felt lighter, yes, but also raw—exposed in a way I hadn’t been before. And there James was, standing close, his gaze never leaving mine. The intensity in his eyes seemed to say everything, everything I hadn’t been able to put into words. At that moment, I didn’t need words.

His arms pulled me close, his chest rising and falling against mine as he held me tightly. His warmth was intoxicating, grounding me. And with every breath I took, I felt a part of me slip away—the burdens, the doubts. But what remained? That unmistakable pull between us.

“You don’t have to carry that anymore, Y/N,” James murmured into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers trailed gently down my back, soothing and steady.

I nodded, the words a comfort, even though they didn’t fully capture everything I was feeling. The relief was there, but there was also something else—a deep, almost dizzying awareness of him. The way his body felt against mine, the heat that seemed to radiate from him, pulling me in closer with every passing second.

And then, without thinking, I tilted my head up, closing the distance between us, and kissed him.

It started slow, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters. His lips were soft, but there was an urgency behind them, a hunger that matched mine. I felt myself melting into him, responding with equal intensity. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My body pressed flush against his, and I could feel every inch of him, the warmth of his skin, the solidness of his muscles. It sent a shock of electricity through me.

When we pulled back, James stood before me, his eyes locked on mine, a question lingering in his gaze.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if he’s giving me room to decide.

I smile, my heart racing a little faster with the closeness between us. “You’re not,” I reply softly, taking a step toward him. My fingers hover over the collar of his shirt, and I slowly unbutton the first one, the motion deliberate. Each button undone feels like the quiet shedding of a barrier between us, a promise that we’re both ready for this.

His eyes follow my hands as I slowly remove his shirt, the fabric sliding off his shoulders and falling to the floor. There’s a moment where we just stand there, looking at each other, as if taking in the enormity of what’s happening.

I reach for the hem of my own shirt, pulling it off slowly, the cool air against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his gaze on me, warm and searching, but there’s no judgment. Just a deep, unspoken understanding between us.

James steps closer, his hand brushing against my bare skin as he tugs gently at the waistband of my jeans. He pauses for a moment, looking at me, asking for permission with just the look in his eyes. I nod, my hands moving to help him, pushing the jeans down over my hips.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor fills the room, and for a moment, there’s nothing else but the warmth of his body just inches away, the air heavy with anticipation. His hands move to my back, slowly undoing the clasp of my bra, his fingers light but sure. I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach, but they quickly settle as he brushes the straps off my shoulders. We’re moving slowly, methodically, as if neither of us wants to rush this moment.

I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart under my fingertips as I trace the lines of his body. I can feel the heat between us, the way our bodies naturally gravitate toward one another. The last of his clothes fall to the floor, and we’re both standing there, exposed to one another, the air thick with something deeper than just desire.

He pulls me close, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss, a slow exploration that speaks more than words ever could. I press closer, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles shift as he moves.

Slowly, I guide him toward the bed, crawling beneath the soft covers, my heart racing as I feel the weight of him beside me. He follows, his body pressing against mine in the most comforting way. The warmth of his skin against mine feels like the world stopping, like everything has led to this moment.

The room is warm, the air thick with the heat of our bodies pressed together. James hovers just above me, his chest rising and falling quickly, and I can feel his presence in every part of me. His body against mine is a perfect weight, pressing me into the soft sheets, and I can’t help but respond to every tiny shift of his.

His gaze locks with mine, dark and intense, and his lips are just inches from my neck. There’s a brief pause as he takes in the moment, making sure I’m comfortable, his fingers brushing over my skin as he adjusts himself, moving just a little closer. His breath falters, and I feel the subtle tension in him.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he shifts—his body fitting against mine, his breath hot against my skin as he thrusts, just enough to send a wave of heat through me. The feeling is intense, unexpected, and before I can even catch my breath, a soft moan escapes my lips, my body reacting to him instinctively.

James freezes for a split second, his breath shaky, eyes searching mine. His hands move to my waist, guiding me gently as he shifts again, adjusting himself to settle into a rhythm that feels even better, deeper. He looks down at me, and I can see the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way he’s trying to hold back, but can’t help but let his body respond to mine.

“You okay?” His voice is strained, barely above a whisper, and I feel the weight of his concern, the tenderness in his touch.

I nod, my voice barely audible, “Yes…” My fingers dig into his shoulders as I pull him closer, urging him to keep going, to keep moving.

James moves again, this time just a little deeper, his breath coming quicker as he adjusts, finding that perfect place where we’re both completely connected. My body reacts, my muscles tightening as I gasp softly, a quiet moan escaping my lips at the sensation.

His breathing becomes faster, more ragged, and I can feel him trembling slightly as he moves again, his hips shifting in perfect rhythm with mine. Every motion, every touch feels like it’s pulling us deeper, and I feel every inch of him, the way his body presses into mine, the way his hands hold me gently yet firmly.

I let out another soft moan, louder this time, unable to hold it back. My body arches up to meet him, my fingers digging into his back as he moves in a slow, deliberate rhythm, deepening the connection between us with each shift. His breath is hot against my neck, his chest pressing against mine, and the sensation is overwhelming, making my heart race even faster.

His voice is low, strained as he leans in, brushing his lips across my jawline. “You feel so good,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire, and I feel a jolt of warmth race through me at the sound of it.

I pull him closer, my hands tangling in his hair, as my body responds to him with every slow, deep thrust. The pressure inside me builds, every shift of his body sending waves of pleasure through me. And with each movement, I can hear the soft gasps and moans slipping from my lips, the sound of our breathing quickening as we move together in perfect sync.

I can feel him tremble slightly as he adjusts again, his movements becoming more deliberate, more urgent. He shifts again, deeper, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me, my voice breaking slightly as my body reacts to him, the intensity building between us.

“James…” I gasp, barely able to get his name out, and my hands tighten around him as the tension inside me becomes almost unbearable. The way he moves, the way he adjusts to match me, brings us closer, and I feel myself getting closer to the edge with each thrust, each movement.

And then, as the pressure inside me reaches its peak, I let out a soft cry, my body shuddering as I reach that moment, that release. James follows closely behind, his breath shaky as he moves with me, his hands gentle on my skin, holding me close as we both come undone.

We stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily, our bodies still connected, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. His forehead rests against mine, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, a steady reminder that we’re both here, together.

He brushes his lips over my forehead, a tender, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?” he asks again, his voice soft, almost a whisper now.

I smile softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his back as I nod, my voice breathless. “Perfect.”

James pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me as we lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath. The world outside seems so far away now, and all that matters is the gentle rise and fall of our chests, the warmth of his body next to mine, and the quiet peace we’ve found in each other.

But then, just as the last remnants of the moment linger between us, James lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine with a new intensity. His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and his voice drops to a hushed whisper.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” he says softly, the words full of promise, raw with emotion. “And I won’t ever let anyone harm you. Not now, not ever. You’re safe with me.”

His lips meet mine in a slow, lingering kiss—full of tenderness, full of everything he’s just spoken. And in that kiss, I feel the truth of his words, the depth of his emotions, and a quiet certainty that nothing could ever take this from us.

As the kiss ends, I whisper softly, my voice full of gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie…”

He smiles against my lips, the warmth of it reaching all the way to my heart. His hand rests on my cheek for a moment, then moves to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Slowly, he lowers his head, resting it on my chest, his body curling into mine.

I run my fingers through his hair, gently stroking it, savoring the quiet peace between us. The sound of his breathing slows, becoming steady and calm as I hold him close, and for a moment, the world feels perfectly still, just us—together.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #metallica smut #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x you #metallica x you

29 notes · View notes

do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 19 hours ago

Text

„Really,“ Tommy scoffs, „you’re my trainee pilot? Zorii Bliss?“

He frowns, as if he’s reading the name on his clipboard for the first time.

„You wouldn’t have accepted my request if I’d gone by my real name, would you,“ Buck goes, somewhat defiant. „I did the prepayment, so don’t waste the money, give me my flying lesson. By the way, your fees really are competitive.“

„You looked up the fees of other pilots?“

There’s something in the air, a special kind of tension. Every word seems ambiguous, just like this whole situation. Buck's intention is clear. It's just difficult to convey it. The hangar with the helicopter seems to have shrunk, reduced to a pair of steel-blue eyes that once looked so lovingly at him and now seem so stern.

“Listen,” says Tommy, ”if you have something to tell me, you didn't have to book a lesson under a false name. I…“

„Yeah, but believe me, this was the only way,“ Buck blurts out.

Tommy looks at him, confused. But there's more to his gaze, isn't there? Buck, whose mind was filled with TommyTommyTommy for weeks, would read something into every little wrinkle next to his eyes, every vague movement of his lips. He realizes that, but he doesn't care.

“You really want a flying lesson?”

“I do.”

Maybe it's not right to pressure Tommy into a debate in this way. Does he give in because he knows how stubborn Buck can be, or because it means something to him too? There are so many questions, so many unresolved issues.

As they board the helicopter, Buck can’t help but feel like this might just be a dream. Maybe it is, he's had a lot of dreams in the past few weeks, and Tommy has been in every one of them. But if it is, it’s the most genuine of dreams, and it’s not a nightmare. There’s not only tension in the air, there’s also Tommy’s aftershave. His presence makes him dizzy, he hardly listens as the man starts his spiel about how a helicopter works. Tommy’s talking about the cyclic and about autorotation, and he just feels like planet Buck, rotating around his sun again.

“You won't learn how to take off or land in the first lesson,” says Tommy sternly. “But the sensation of flying, of keeping the machine under control in the air, that's what I'll show you. You got that?”

Flying, Buck thinks. Exactly what I’m craving.

They ascend, and with every altitude, Buck’s fear shrinks. The fear of being rejected. The fear of not being able to say what he actually wants to say. But also the fear that he's only doing this because he's actually addicted to Tommy. Addicted to the feeling this man conveyed and that he’s missed so much.

But as they rise into the deep blue sky, he realizes it’s something else. Addiction is dependency, and Buck is coping alone; he has learned to endure loneliness long before Tommy. What he can't cope with is ignorance. And…

“The silence,” he muses aloud, and Tommy gives him a questioning look.

“It's not exactly quiet in a helicopter,” he says, tapping his headphones.

It's not the ideal conditions for a conversation like this. But none of them can run away at this moment, and besides, this is Tommy's territory. His domain, which he controls; something from which he draws self-confidence. Buck didn't book this flying lesson because it really was a last resort to talk to Tommy again.

“I was talking about you,” Buck returns. „You bubbled me, but you never sent a message.“

„I… bubbled you?“

Tommy's furrowed brows are a question mark. Buck shrugs, “I saw you were about to text me several times, but then you didn't. I've been staring at my phone for days, so close to calling you. L.A.'s having a flour crisis because of me.”

“Flour,” Tommy repeats uncomprehendingly. “What altitude are we flying at?”

This is either a test or a distraction, but Buck has done his homework, and his eyes find the information immediately.

„Nearly 11,500 feet. Still not very close to our maximum altitude.“

“High enough for you to explain to me what this is all about,“ Tommy says.

Buck heaves a sigh. It’s not easy to find the right words.

„Zorii Bliss is actually a woman’s name,“ he begins, although he can see that’s not what Tommy expected. „There’s only so many queer characters in the Star Wars universe, and she’s not one of them; but she’s a past love interest of one main character.“

„That makes me Poe Dameron?“

Oh, he’s quick. And he’s almost smiling. That’s a start, right? But then he says, “You're giving me a little too much credit, I think.”

“You think you're not a main character? To me, you always were.”

Tommy's sideways glance is wistful, the look of a man who’s been trying to come to terms with his past for a long time.

“We talked about this,” he says, though his white knuckles gripping the cyclic tell the opposite.

„No, we didn’t. Which is why we’re here now.“

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to sigh, it sounds like a breath he held weeks ago.

“I actually wanted to text you,” he admits as he stares out the pane, avoiding Buck's gaze. „Because… I’m really sorry how that went. Not my best move.“

„Breaking up with me? Definitely,“ says Buck with a hoarse laugh.

“To leave without explaining myself,” Tommy emphasizes. „You did nothing wrong.“

„Oh, but I did. I asked you to move in with me at a point of our relationship that just wasn’t the right one.“

Only now does Tommy turn to him, a questioning expression on his face.

„You think this is all about timing?“

„Of course not,“ Buck says softly. „It’s about us, stumbling through half a year of…“

„Fun,“ Tommy interjects.

„Yeah, but it was more than that, right? You weren’t with me only because I was a sexy himbo you had fun with.“

Tommy’s jaw drops.

„You’re twisting…“

This time, Buck doesn’t let him finish.

„No. You made assumptions about me, figuring out who I was and what I actually wanted. That hurt, because everything I wanted was you. I realize, though, that I didn’t really show you. But in the end, Tommy…“

He stops to put his hand on Tommy's arm, just for a moment. His muscles are tense and hard, and his jaw is working as if he’s chewing on Buck’s words, but he’s still listening.

„In the end,“ he continues, „it was never about me not knowing who I am, but who you actually are. I missed out on you. That was never as clear as the moment you left.“

“Do you realize that one possible conclusion of this is that we just don't fit together?” Tommy says, but his eyes say, convince me otherwise. Buck wants to believe that.

“I can think of at least half a dozen other conclusions,” he replies. „And I want to try and see if I’m right. Because there’s something else I realized.“

Maybe he’s deliberately making a dramatic pause, staring at the horizon from nearly 11,800 feet altitude.

“And that would be?” Tommy asks, his eyes now on Buck's lips.

“I've been abandoned so many times in my life that I assumed that's how it had to be. Fate or something. True, people told me that’s wrong, that I deserve to be happy, yada yada.“

His fingers draw exclamation marks in the air, but Tommy still only has eyes for his face. Does he look at his blue eyes and thinks, just like Buck, that the horizon is reflected in them, and with it infinite possibilities?

“But that made me passive, and I'm not. I don't want to be like that. Not when something is so important. Hey, I'm the guy who sued the department to get his job back. Who found his sister after her crazy first husband left her half-dead. Who would have dug up his best friend with his bare hands if he could have. But I’m also the guy who never fought for his relationships. Look, Tommy, is that me? Is that who I want to be, the guy who fights for his loved ones but not for his actual love?“

„What?“ Tommy blinks, then his eyes widen.

Buck laughs. It’s a liberating sound, this time.

„Yeah, like in one of those hallmark rom-coms, you like those. Something, somebody is taken away from you, and only then do you realize how important he was. That hurts, and at first you're angry, especially because he said that you don't know what you want anyway and that he's just a stopover.”

Tommy raises his hands defensively, “I'm sorry. I really am.“ „You better be. Because I want us to be together again. I can’t actually promise I won’t break your heart, because that little thing seems a bit fragile to me.“

Out of the blue, he pokes Tommy in the chest with his index finger, but he doesn't even flinch. The corners of his mouth lift a little, at least.

“But we can work on that. Together. We're a bunch of problems, but we can also be the solution.”

“What you said earlier…” Tommy begins, his gaze searching Buck’s, and he nods.

„I love you. I want a second chance, Tommy. If you don’t want me, you can just land this helicopter and I’ll walk away.“

There’s a pause, but the silence is not unpleasant, not awkward.

„Put your hand on the cyclic,“ Tommy finally says.

Buck looks at him, confused. Not the answer he had hoped for, but not a flippant rebuff either. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then, ever so gently, Tommy takes his hand and places it on the stick.

„You wanted to know what it’s like, flying,“ he remarks with a smile.

(Thank you so much for letting me use that idea!) AO3 version | All my BuckTommy on AO3

tommy's radio silence goes on for too long so buck does the only reasonable thing—

he books a flying lesson with tommy

#writing #fanfiction #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #break up make up #buck x tommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #kinley #tevan #my fics

110 notes · View notes