#then come into work the next day like fuck
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Just some more thoughts on König with a clingy girl.
He’s not used to physical intimacy by any means. He’s paid for girls plenty of times, have a few flings during different leaves, but never anything sweet. Never a girlfriend.
Before you even get together, you’re clingy. You like hugs. You like leaning on him when you’re sat next to each other, falling asleep on him. Which makes him fall in love so quickly, by the way. He’s addicted to feeling you warm on his skin.
And when he does manage to sweet talk his way into the boyfriend position? He melts under every crumb of affection. Every kiss to the cheek, every nuzzle, every time you park yourself in his lap.
Man is a death grip hand-holder. His height makes him hard to lose in crowds, but he still doesn’t want to be separated. Letting go of your hand is literally like his last resort.
And let it be said. This man wants to fuck you with as much skin to skin contact as possible. Sure, he’ll never say no to a quickie, but his favorite type of sex is when you’re both completely bare and have space to get in every position imaginable. He likes you pressed completely against him— chest to chest if possible, maybe back to chest (especially if a full length mirror is involved).
And then there’s the emotional clinging. He’s very insecure about the idea of wanting you more than you want him, so it always makes him so happy when you’re the one texting, calling, or just coming into the same room as him to hang out. He loves when you contact him for no reason at all— just to check on him. One time when he asked why you called, you said “I just wanted to hear your voice,” and he almost fainted from how giddy it made him. And he doesn’t have so much going on besides work, so he really doesn’t mind if you’re the type to want to spend every hour of every day with him.
The hardest fucking you ever got from König was a few weeks after you first moved in together. He had to be on base for the day, and you had a day off. You meet him at the door— you headed there as soon as you heard the car— and wrap him up in an embrace that he gladly returns.
“So, leibling, what did you do all day today?”
“I waited for you to come home,” you say absentmindedly, just rubbing his back and pressing your cheek to his chest. You don’t notice how he almost starts trembling from your words, his heart feeling like it’s about to burst.
He needs to be inside you— can barely hold it together enough to carry you to bed like a fucking caveman. Starts thinking you need something else to cling to when he’s away… something that can cling to him when he comes home. A baby would suit you both very nicely, yeah?
661 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing this post always immediately reminds me of a fun story from early on in my relationship that my partner and I affectionately refer to as
The Can Opener Incident
This was back in my college days. That semester I was living in a dorm that was more like a collection of small apartments on the very fringes of campus territory. My partner had come over to spend the night at my dormroom, and we were going about making some pasta in the little kitchenette. The pasta was already fully cooked and strained when we suddenly encountered a problem:
The canned pasta sauce I had bought was not a pop top, and rummaging around the kitchen for a can opener revealed that I had neglected to bring one.
Not one to settle for miserable, dry pasta on a cozy home date, I ran over to the dorm room next door and asked to borrow a can opener. They're a little startled to find someone knocking on their door at 9 PM, but they let me borrow it with no resistance. Upon bringing it back is when the problems truly began.
You see, all of my life I had used a can opener which you latched to the side of the can and twisted the knob to make the sharp ring cut into the top of the can vertically, parallel to the side of the can. This one looked similar, all the right parts were in the right places, so I gave it a shot... but nothing happened. My partner comes up and tells me I'm using it wrong, and I think to myself "oh, okay, so maybe he's used this kind of can opener before, I'll let him at it," and I hand it off to him.
The can opener my partner has used his whole life is the kind that you latch on to the TOP of the can, so instead of holding the handle at the side, you're holding it horizontally over the top of the can. I didn't know that kind of can opener even existed, so when he tried using this one his way, I looked at him like he was insane. This look quickly intensified as this method also didn't work. Things rapidly went downhill from there. He defensively explained the way his can opener at home worked, and I started pointing to the structure of the can opener and arguing why this one wouldn't work that way. We're a little frustrated, but it's nothing some pasta can't fix, so I propose I simply go over next door to the people who I borrowed the can opener from and ask them how to use it.
As I reached over to take it from him, he held it out of my reach.
"No! I'll figure it out myself!" He announced.
"What? Why? It's easier to just ask the owner," I argue, jumping around trying to get at the items.
"Because I can figure it out!"
Okay. Fine. I guess he wants to solve this like some kind of puzzle for enrichment. I give up and I wait. The fiddling begins. I'm standing there watching him try increasingly improbable methods of getting that thing to work over and over. The pasta is getting cold. He's testing methods that have already proven not to work, trying new methods that physically couldn't work, then trying the ones that have already failed us all over again. My stomach growls.
"We should really just ask," I grumble, hungry and frustrated.
"No, I've got this."
He does not fucking got this. I want my goddamn food and I do not have time for this puzzle solving.
"Give it here."
"No."
"I'm just gonna take it to the owners and ask them to show us how to use it, you can come with."
"No! I want to figure out out myself!!"
"And I want my food god fucking damn it!!"
This went on for a bit. The pasta was drying to the side of the pot and getting crusty. At some point during this yelling match I got so pissed off that I stormed out of my own apartment into the cold with no coat on.
'I need to make him see reason!' I thought to myself, making my way through the snow. One building over was where two of his friends were rooming together. I knock on their door, boiling with rage. It is 10 PM.
"Hey, can you come over? [Partner] is being completely unreasonable and obstinate over figuring out how a can opener we borrowed works and won't let me take it to the owner to ask. Please help me convince him to hand it over, I'm literally too short to wrestle it from him."
"Alright, let me grab my coat."
We head back over to my place to find my partner Still Messing Around with that godforsaken can opener.
"Let me see that for a second," says his friend, taking his coat off. I experienced a moment of relief, thinking to myself, 'Finally!' as my partner pouted for a second, but relinquished the can opener.
This peaceful glorious relief fizzled out into horror as his friend began to try to open the can the same way I had.
"That's weird. It really looks like it should work this way..." he mutters.
"Try it from the top, that's how my parents' works," my partner suggests.
"No no, that won't work, just give me a second to figure it out."
Oh my fucking god.
I stared blankly, watching them study the can opener and turn the can this way and that, both completely absorbed in finding the solution to this hour long problem. I was going to lose my fucking mind. Perhaps in that moment I really did. Shellshocked, I stood, wondering how it had come to this. I just wanted some fucking pasta and a relaxed night in, and instead I've gotten these goddamn STEM majors milling around in my kitchen at 10:25 PM arguing over how to use a can opener that isn't even mine. So I went and did what, in retrospect, I should have done ages ago: I went next door for help.
I can't imagine what my neighbor must have thought of me, showing up over an hour after borrowing their can opener, looking as if something inside of me had died, and, with a hint of desperation in my eyes, begging them tearfully to come next door and show us all how to use their can opener. Over an hour after borrowing it.
Well, whatever they thought of it all, they did oblige my pleas. Their arrival thankfully broke up the debate, and as all three of us watched intently as hawks over their shoulder, they cracked open that can of pasta for us.
Using it the exact same way I had tried at the start of it all.
It was just dull.
"I don't need a shopping list; with effort, I will remember that I need this item"
Okay but will you be able to remember that you already bought it? Because apparently I can't.
#to this day my partner and I still can't agree on who was right in this situation when it gets brought up#“would have figured it out eventually!”#“my method was correct in the first place and asking the owner got us the answer faster!”#“i would have gotten it faster if you hadn't been preventing me by trying to take it!”#“the pasta was getting nasty we didn't have time for that!”#The Can Opener Incident#truly is the only thing to call that clusterfuck#i suppose it's only tangentially related to the post#but this post does always give me war flashbacks to this event#still can't believe his friend came over to help only to become a part of the problem immediately#should have just gone straight to the owner
31K notes
·
View notes
Text
pick a card 3 - something you need to hear right now.
Last day where the Sun is in Scorpio. First day where the Sun enters Sagittarius.
The month of November is always a tough month for everyone. This pick a card is aimed to give some guidance through these dark times. Scorpio energy can be sometimes overwhelmingly intense and gloomy, but it holds great power. Use this energy to die peacefully, and shed your old skin. Like a phoenix, we will all rise from our ashes.
Words of encouragement, healing messages and a tiny bit of reality checks are what this reading will bring you. Hope it resonates.
Pile 1
The World, 2 of Wands, Knight of Wands, Page of Swords, 10 of Swords (Rx), Queen of Pentacles (Rx?)
Top of the deck : 8 of Cups
Bottom of the deck : 2 of Swords
Life path 7 / Life path 11
“You don’t drown by falling in the water, you drown by staying there.”
“Do what makes you fucking happy”
additional quote : “Do what makes your soul shine <3”
Right off the bat, there is a sense of urgency in walking away from something and making a firm decision. I think you have been in denial about something in your life, avoiding it by trying to live a “normal life”. You’ve been focusing on your day to day tasks as a distraction but something has been at the back of your mind for a while now. And when I say for a while, I mean at least two years, or one year. It is something that you have, overtime, subconsciously suppressed because at the time this thing, career, job, creative endeavor,.. was important to you, but you did not have (or thought you didn’t have) enough knowledge and resources to take methodical practical steps towards it. I am picking up that this might have been something that happened slightly before or during the pandemic (2019/2020). The World fell out of the deck, and this card indicates the completion of a cycle, an ending. After it, the 2 of Wands fell, which indicates future planning, progress, decision and discovery. I feel like the message you need to hear is that now is the perfect time to start this project of yours, or at least plan the practical actions you need to take over the course of the next few months to accomplish it. Don’t overthink over certain details and possible technical issues. There is a fire inside of you that you consistently turned off, thinking and hoping that the embers would eventually die out. The problem you are currently facing is that they never did. You might have an Aries North node. Being assertive and independent doesn’t come easy to you. Starting projects and following your instincts without second guessing yourself is hard. You tried to manage your truest and deepest desires but I feel like this past year, the desire to let it all out, probably influenced by the Lunar nodes being in the sign of Aries and Libra, urging you to just go for it, intensified to the point of suffocation.
Your spirit guides are urging you to take this leap of faith, to walk confidently towards that goal like The Fool, without worrying if you run the risk of falling from a ravine in the process.
They’re telling you to start slow, to take a step by step approach while still keeping a strong mindset. You will come out victorious only if you’re able to keep pushing through the obstacles. What awaits you is a slow and steady marathon and growth. You can do it !
Oracle cards from the Green With Oracle pulled for you :
16 - Memory / Rosemary => Leo energy
“Deeper levels of connection with people, concepts and plans are all areas that Rosemary works with. You are reminded to ensure you are in touch with your inner wisdom, paying heed to the past, and have cleared what needs to be released. Listen to your intuition as it is calling to you at present, but be wary of gossip or becoming tactless or too forceful.”
5 - Grounding / Potato => Virgo energy
“Explore the deepest, innermost areas of yourself and situations, as potatoes indicate energies that are calling you to look again at what you may have once missed and will help to bring stability. If you are looking for an answer, try pulling back a little to let things settle on their own first. Challenges at the moment may include ignorance, self-centeredness and forgetfulness, so make sure you are compassionate and focused.
You are called to use all the knowledge you acquired overtime to finally take action. You’re currently ending a cycle. You have enough wisdom to make a plan that will lead you closer and closer to tangible success. Trust your intuition and inner guidance. Don’t make rash decisions, but be decisive.
Just realized these two cards have the same message in the guide book ! This is a crazy coincidence. I used it many times and never paid attention. I didn’t even know two cards could have the same message. This is crazy lol. Let me share the quote with you :
“When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden”
Pile 2
2 of cups, 3 of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, Ace of Wands, The Star, 2 of Swords, Page of Pentacles 10 of Pentacles
“The same light you see in others is shining within you too.”
(there are a lot of references to light, stars,shining,;. throughout the reading. Are you drawn to space ? or the galaxy ? You’re probably a huge astrology, and/or astronomy nerd. You are probably also a huge dreamer. Maybe drawn to the idea of being a starseed. You might have strong aquarius placements, or a populated 11th house. Pluto finally going in Aquarius this week is going to grant you so much luck and recognition ! You are about to step into your power for the next 20 years. Like a rocket, you are about to fly towards the stars. Are you ready for the take off ?
“Don’t let the ugliness of others kill the beauty in you”
Something you need to hear is that you are about to be blessed by the universe ! Shooting Star by XG just started playing !
“Babe, if I give it my all, will it pay off?
Workin' overtime, no days off
All these shootin' stars in the dark (Yeah)
All these shootin' stars in the dark, make a wish (Yeah)
Takin' off from the ground, it's amazin'
So outta this world, I'm in space
Now I'm goin' up, headin' to the stars
Wouldn't trade it out for another life, no
Yeah, we ridin', ridin', ridin' on up (Woo)
So shinin', shinin', shinin' for sure
Ooh, ah, I'm lookin' so lavish (Shinin', shinin', yeah)
Ooh, ah, put in work like it's a habit (I'm lookin' so lavish)
It's a big move, every day's like a dream
Makin' big moves as I should 'cause I'm a queen (Ooh)
Ooh, ah, I'm lookin' so lavish
Ooh, ah, yeah, I bet you can't imagine (Oh yeah)”
You are shining on your way towards the stars. You are currently in your Queen of Wands and Ace of Wands energy, (Million Dollar Baby just started playing, you’re really sure of yourself and goal oriented right now).
You are bursting with confidence and assertiveness. You are determined towards your goals. You are in a “work hard, play hard” type of energy. If it’s not currently happening, you are about to have a huge burst of popularity on whatever you’re currently working on. Could be any project, a youtube channel, a business : there are a few people that are well respected in the industry you're aiming for that are eyeing you right now and that are about to offer you a contract/ a deal/ a collaboration. They have been probably on a hunt for someone like you for a while now and they were probably starting to lose hope until they came across your page/work/profile. They see you as a Star, you’re unique and like The Star in the tarot, you represent hope and faith to them/to their business/ association/school/company. They see your raw potential and they are going to help you refine it.
Right now, you’re probably more focused on your work/ career/ school and nurturing your friendships, going out. You’re basically active in your social circles and this is benefiting you a lot !
An additional message you need to know is that you’re attracting a soulmate! It’s not necessarily a romantic soulmate, could be a friendship, a mentor.. Whatever the nature of this relationship is, it is going to fill you up with even more joy and hope! Your spirit guides are so proud of you and of all the work you have been putting in lately. Even though it was hard, you stayed patient and worked diligently towards your goals and desired reality. You did a lot of shadow work, tried your best to let go of the limiting beliefs that were holding you back. The Universe wants to tell you they are about to reward you.
Oracle card from the Green With Oracle pulled for you :
40 - Positivity / Marigold : Leo energy (again you are shining and radiating confidence! Your solar plexus chakra and sacral chakra might be in overdrive currently! You are the main character in the play that is your life.)
“A better understanding is indicated and a reason to be more optimistic about outcomes and the roads to get there. There are opportunities for nurturing encounters and a general aura of happiness pervades. Marigolds help us focus on the positive aspects of even the most difficult events. Your inner child may need to come out for a play, and be sure to take creative invitations. Be wary of not having all the facts and of emotional blockages.”
Pile 3
TW : this pile is a bit sad and angsty.
Before I pulled any cards for you, I already felt your energy overlapping in Pile 2’s reading. Your energy was really intense, deep and melancholic. Sad songs started playing, which completely contradicted pile 2’s energy (which was overwhelmingly positive). You are probably going through a really tough period right now and your soul is desperately crying for help, praying for a hand to come and save you. You have been having really painful realizations regarding your past, especially your childhood. You’ve recently realized that the child inside of you was buried alive. You’ve recently realized that you lost your essence. While growing up, you accommodated to the world around you, what people expected of you, what was “normal”, what was acceptable. By bowing down to other people’s expectations, you let your true self die slowly. You’ve been on autopilot for a while now, completely numb and empty. There is a bit of mirroring between this pile and pile 1 of suppressing one's authentic self and desires.
Right now, you feel that your heart has been almost rotting inside. You lost all of your passion and your spark of life. But, don’t worry, what you need to hear now is that this painful realization is what is going to set you free. It is the first step towards a really deeply healing period where you are going to reconnect with your inner child. I heard : “The truth will set you free, but first, it will piss you off”. Did you read my last reading by any chance ? I am getting the energy that you chose pile 2 and 3, both or just one, or that you would resonate with those two piles for some reason. Don’t hesitate to check it out, you might find some comforting messages I heard !
Now, let me pull some cards for you. I don’t know why, but I felt drawn to use different decks than the ones I used for the first two piles. So, your pile will have different messages (no message from the Green Witch oracle for you)
[took a little break before going to your pile. You probably need to slow down on your day to day tasks. I know it’s really hard in the productivity obsessed capitalist world we live in, and it is a huge privilege to be able to have enough time and energy to spiritually reconnect with ourselves, but this is what your spirit guides are urging you to do. You’ve got this.]
For you, I used the Occult Tarot and the Heavenly Bodies Astrology deck.
I only pulled 2 cards, one per deck (it was supposed to be like that but more cards sneaked in while shuffling haha) I feel like you need just a simple check up.
Cardinal - Instigation, Bravery and A pioneering spirit => your lost spark and childlike innocence will soon be reignited by a deep healing period. A new beginning is coming for you, but it will take some hibernating time before it comes.
Sagittarius - Optimism, Exploration and Freedom
Trine - Angelic Support, Harmony and Perfect Flow
Reconnect to your higher self and spiritual side. Disconnect from the direct, yet understandable, dissatisfaction you feel towards life. Your embers that were slowly dying will relive, just trust the process, enter the deepest parts of yourself and keep exploring with positivity : your angels will guide you. There is a team of spirit guides and angels that are proud of your progress. Even if you don’t see it, they do and they want to tell you : There is light at the end of the tunnel, keep on walking.
The Hermit and the Ace of Swords : The truth about your past came out, now is the time to meditate on those realizations and integrate them. Alchemize the pain in wisdom. You are about to come out stronger than ever. Isolate yourself, or at least try to keep your peace and have a lot of alone time (without completely stopping socializing altogether, humans are social creatures: connecting with people is important for our wellbeing) to ponder, analyze, decrypt, all the patterns that you’ve been repeating. Reconnect with your inner child, look at photos of yourself when you were younger, delve deep into your childhood and childhood wounds. Maybe try to find what your attachment style is, anything that stems from your childhood that has been making you stuck in a rut these past years. Maybe, if you can, try to heal the relationship you had with your parents/parent or primary caregiver. Try to understand the nature of you guys’ relationship to see how it affects your self worth now. You've got this, trust me.
here is a link to my ko-fi !
#pick a card#pick a card reading#pick a pile#pick a picture#divination#tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards
371 notes
·
View notes
Note
HI!! how are you??
do you mind doing a poly seventeen relationship with vernon and chan and they spoil her alot?? (smut tho)
thank you!! i love you and your blog <3
18+ / mdi
content: bf!vernon and bf!chan, smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), handjob, mentions of m receiving oral, mentions of shower sex, etc.
wc: 886
a/n: i couldn't help but write them bickering bc i i just know they totally would in real life.
masterlist
"dude, what the fuck? i thought you guys were going to work today. hyung, you literally have a solo song coming up!"
chan's whines were not enough to get you to stop kissing vernon's neck as you cuddled into him on the couch, nor where they enough for vernon, apparently. his hands were very intent on feeling every inch of your tits, something which you did not want chan to take away from you.
"just did some recording from the home studio," was all vernon said in reply, hands now reaching your ass to pull you on top of him, lips finding yours in a kiss.
"i will not be a third wheel in my own home," he grumbled, "move over, you've had her all day."
he made his way to the couch, sitting on the other side of you as he fought vernon for your attention. after a bit of back and forth, vernon gave you one last kiss before leaving you in chan's arms, pleased enough to have had you to himself all day.
it's not like chan and vernon never shared you at the same time, but they just so happened to both be a little possessive. they preferred to take turns to ensure they could each be fully satisfied. and you? you had no complaints.
"i'm gonna go make some hoco. want some, baby?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen.
"mm, yes, nonnie," you interrupted a heady kiss from chan to respond.
"for me too!," said the aforementioned boy before kissing you again.
vernon chuckled and shook his head as he left, taking note that he should probably ask you to shower with him later. he wanted the last word after chan had his way with you.
~
"oh, but this is fine? weren't you complaining we took a day off without you literally yesterday?"
now it was vernon's turn to walk in on you and chan. however, this time you were located in the bedroom, with chan deep between your legs as you sat at the edge of the bed.
"sorry, baby. i might've convinced him to stay home since you'd be gone today," you mumbled in between gasps.
"c'mere, baby. my hand is all yours," you gestured him to sit next to you as your other hand held onto chan's head, leading his movements against your cunt.
vernon needed no further encouragement, undoing his pants as he walked over to bed and took a seat next to you, kissing you and letting his hands feel up your tits as you began working him with your own hand — god, he really was a boob guy.
"mmm, missed you today," he hummed between kisses.
"me more, nonn- ah! sorry, channie, fuck, you're being so good for me, baby."
wordlessly, he had demanded for attention while his tongue was deep in you. it was the classic competition for your affection.
"fuck, baby, keep doing that. gonna fuck you later, okay? fuck you to sleep, shit, yeah?", mumbled vernon against your lips. his orgasm was close, you could hear it in his voice. he must've been tired from practicing all day.
"mhm, shit. please," you pleaded before turning your attention to the other boy, "channie, shit, 'm gonna cum soon."
he murmured incoherent words into your folds, nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot as he sped up. you were so into your own pleasure you hadn't realized the poor boy had been using your shoe to hump in order to release his own tension.
you hoped he wouldn't cum from it. you had way better plans for him as soon as you got vernon off with your hand.
a high pitched cry was the last thing you voiced against vernon's lips, soon followed by his own grunts of pleasure as he dirtied your hand with his spunk. he was insistent in kissing you throughout both your orgasms, sometimes not even landing on your lips, but still within the ballpark. it was a disorganized mess, as it usually was with vernon.
chan waited patiently until the two of you got a fill of each other. he'd been enjoying the show you and vernon gave him, lip caught in his teeth up until he reached up to you and stole you away from vernon, instead giving you a taste of yourself through the remnants of his lips.
"stop, i'm the one you should be kissing right now," he complained as vernon chuckled beside you, getting up to get a rag to clean himself with.
"i know, channie," you coo'd, "i'll make it up to you, okay, baby?"
getting up, you held out your hand for him with a smile, leading him to the restroom connected to your room. before entering, you turned back to vernon, nodding at him to follow along and giggling when he lit up at the invitation.
"i'll suck off whoever washes my hair," you proposed once in the bathroom.
you were met with a whiny back and forth between both men, insisting they were the best at washing your hair and that the other had already gotten more than enough attention from you.
in the end, it didn't really matter. you had more than enough in you to satisfy both of them. you just liked to see them bicker over you.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt oneshot#vernon imagines#vernon fanfic#vernon x reader#vernon smut#dino oneshot#dino x reader#dino fanfic#dino smut#dino imagines
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
Logan panicking when he realizes it is Christmas in a week, and he hasn't gotten Wade anything. He doesn't know what the fuck to get him- mainly because he hasn't given anyone a gift in years- but also because Wade is awkward to shop for somehow? He loves so many different things, but for some reason, it's all really hard shit to get merch of and he has so much of it already.
So instead, he doesn't buy Wade anything and sets out to make something.
Christmas Day comes, and after everyone has left for the evening, Logan pulls out a really badly wrapped present and shoves it into Wade's hands. "Peanut! Your so sweet! You didn't need to get Mr anything!! What is it?" which is quickly met with a mumbled "just open it already".
And when Wade does, he doesn't know what to say. It's a small carved wooden figure of Hello Kitty. A very very beautiful carved wooden figure of Hello Kitty. "Wow....where did you get this? I haven't seen this one before.." He mutters, looking at the detail and gently spinning it in his hand. Logan just sheepishly says "I made it myself" before spinning around and rushing off to the kitchen to grab a drink, and to hide from Wade because- why was this so fucking awkward?
The plan doesn't work though because Wade is quickly following Logan and wrapping his arms around him tightly. "That's so fucking amazing! You made it? I have the only one like that? And it's Hello Kitty! And it's my favourite pose from the calender I have! Your so amazing and I love it and I love you and I loved it so much-" and Wade continued to ramble on about the little figure for hours. Logan was just glad he liked it- and was already planning on making some more for the next gift giving event.
#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#wade wilson#deadpool 3#deadclaws#deadpool#logan howlett#wade x logan#logan#wade winston wilson
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
And I'm SO happy you're back, my lovely Wayne!! Of course, you decide to spoil me with this review the minute you dip back into this hellsite. 😘
(yesss, and don't think I didn't see that chapter you dropped of Polaris! When I get back from my vacay I will be diving into that. I need to know what happens next with our favorite cowboy sheriff 🤠)
I'm very glad and grateful you made the time to start ESC! I had so much fun figuring out Russell Shaw and the Tracker cast -- especially with all them Deanisms. 😏
Diving into the rest of your awesome comments below!! 💕
First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂
Oh he's a piece of something, all right. 🙄 She could def pull a Rachel on his ass. And Russell...lmao, you already saw where he's heading with this. 😂
Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪
LOLL the way it didn't even occur to me when I was writing this (at first) that I was writing another professor paired with a law enforcement (sort of, in Russell's case), man of action type, like in Take Me Home with Beau Arlen. 😝 I came at it with the thought of, "what if she was Dory's best friend, and they worked together at the university?" I must have a thing for writing nerds who get the rugged, sexy Mountain Man. Not at all fulfilling a personal fantasy.
UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro... And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂
Fuck YES, I'd be high-stepping up and down his spine fr. 🤣 Ignorance is bliss, I guess? 🤷🏽♀️
Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅
Oooh my God, now THAT's crazy! A whole subway ride(s)?? I've worked/gone to school on some big campuses, but that takes the cake. I guess you get your daily workout one way or another lol!
Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞
Big YEP lmfaoo, and he likes her already because of it. 😂
Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅
No it would not, lmfao! But that is something that will be explored (how much she knows) in the chapters to come, for sure!
Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘
Ahaha I had to do the little callback to sriracha fries (and figure out how tf to spell sriracha, first of all. 😂)
I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)
Ooh that's SUCH a good point (and yumm). It's making me hope that we get a flashback of Russell in his military days someday in Tracker.
Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆
Oh, very much a toss up/personal preference there lmao. I've loved Justin Hartley since his Smallville days as Green Arrow. 😆 But in this case, I felt like Russell would try to claim top billing there loll.
In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂 If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣
Honestly, it's amazing how many red flags you ignore when someone's charming and handsome. 🤣🤣🤣
Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷♀️
Ha!! True, it's beating out Russell's crusty motel of the week by far, I'd say.
He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...
Oh don't worry, we're getting to that callback. 😏
Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰) PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓
In fact, he does not! lmfao That was what I loved about it too -- like maybe half of him is serious, and the other half just wants to needle Colter. 🤣
Aw I'm glad you caught that! lol I'm not Jewish, but for some reason it just felt right for these characters. 💜
STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣
He absolutely did!! And this time, it actually worked! 🤣🤣
I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏 Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life?
Ooh my goodness, I'm so glad to hear that, friend! You're right. I don't think I full on state it, but "casual" is typically not her style. Also, Russell is Dory's brother, so she doesn't want there to be any weirdness or awkwardness between them if something happened or fell out between the reader and Russell.
She already knows his relationship with Dory is kind of fragile, in that they're still in that "reconnecting" phase. You'll see more of that dynamic and her thoughts in Part 2, but the rest of your questions will most definitely be explored throughout this little series. 😏
And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂
There's a lot to unpack there, right? There's a great deal that she already knows through Dory, and some things that are going to be revealed along the way...
Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏
You make me blush!! Thank you so much. 😭🥰 If you like this chapter, then I think you're going to enjoy the rest of the series. I hope it's as fun for you to read as it was for me to write!! 💕💕
A Line and a Half
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.
AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…
You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.
Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk.
“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”
As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.
Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.
“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor.
Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.
“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.
“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”
You quirked a brow. “Do they?”
You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.
Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.
“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.
You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.
Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.
Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.
Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.
Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.
You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.
Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?
It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.
It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.
She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)
That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.
And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.
“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.
When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.
He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.
“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”
You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.
Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.
“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.
“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.
You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.
“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.
“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.
“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.
“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.
You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”
“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.
You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”
Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.
“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”
You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.
The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.
“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.
“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”
Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).
“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.
“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”
Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.
“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”
A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”
“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”
You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.
It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.
When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.
Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.
“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.
Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.
“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.
You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.
“I’m sure,” you replied.
Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”
He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.
“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”
You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”
“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”
You shared a telling look with Dory.
“Next time, huh?” you asked.
“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.”
He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.
She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.
“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.
“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”
That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”
“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”
“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.
“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”
“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.
Unstable…and lonely.
“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.
He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?
Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.
For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.
After a moment, Russell shook his head.
“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.
“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.
You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad.
“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.
“It’s all right,” you replied.
“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."
You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.
“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”
“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.
“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.
“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.
And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.
This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.
You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.
As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.
“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”
Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”
“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”
“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.
It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.
“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.
When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.
“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.
“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.
“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.
It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.
“Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.
You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.
If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.
He wanted to see more of you before he left town.
“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.
“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.
You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.
However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.
Which only left the alternative: something…casual.
You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.
“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”
Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.
“Sometime, huh?” you asked.
He smiled back. “Tonight?”
You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.
“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”
“Well, all right,” Russell said.
He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.
He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.
Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.
But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.
“See you tonight,” he said.
AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆
Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.
Next Time in Part 1:
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Russell S. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
#reader appreciation#lovely mutuals#lovely review!! 💖💖 (always with you)#a line and a half feedback#ESC-verse
617 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stop Falling for “New Techniques” And Just Use Your Mind. It's Not Hard.
Stop listening to people who are coming up with new techniques for you to get into the state of having what you want every thirty fucking seconds and use your damn mind. No matter what new techniques start trending on TikTok or YouTube, you either have your desire now or you “don’t”.
How many times are you gonna fall for the “oh try this out to help you get your desires” bs that people come up with every few seconds. Stop being a b*tch and just decide you have what you want now. Regardless of whatever technique you use, it doesn't matter because the technique isn’t what “works”, YOU ARE. Reality is a mirror. Do I need to explain how mirrors work?
If you decide to sit there and have a conversation with the ai version of your sp or you want a search engine to make you feel better about whether or not you have something, those things won’t help you. No matter what anybody says. No matter what long ass post or 30 minute video someone on YouTube makes about how to use the next best technique to get what you want. They don’t have the power. You are the power. You are the damn search engine.
You are born with your desires. You are born with everything you “need” to manifest so why aren’t you acting like it? Why do you still need the 3d to prove to yourself you can manifest something???
You don’t find funny that people will constantly tell you to go to the “next best thing” rather than to just go within yourself to get the answer you are looking for? Using outside sources for motivation rather than giving it to yourself…. You don’t feel the least bit pathetic? You don’t feel the least bit ashamed handing your power away to something that wouldn’t even exist without you being aware of it??
Stop creating excuses everyday for yourself as to “why” you don’t have what you want when you are the reason. You are the reason the sun shines in the morning yet you didn’t have to the 369 method or ask chatpgt if the sun will shine for you to know you’ll see it.
At the end of the day it’s just you and it’s only ever been you. Those things can work because you say they do but not because they have any inherent power. You are the power. You are the light. Fucking act like it.
#some of y'all have really been pissing me off#itsrlymine#loa success#success story#law of assumption#manifest#manifesting#manifestation#loassumption#loassblog#loassblr#lawofassumption#reality shift#loa tumblr#imagination is reality#shifting#shiftblr#shifting blog#pure consciousness#desired reality#desired life#living in the end#instant manifestation#black shifter#black manifestor
194 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiii the breastfeeding question that can be used as a question or to a fic I was just curious because I love the sexual ones but I was like would u do one just a sweet one Joel had stressful day at work or Joel can’t sleep and needs the boob to help him and then it comes into a routine every night before and when he wakes up has milk and I’m also loving the mommy fics too. But don’t worry on the response time 💓
Routine
Joel Miller x F!Reader
warnings: breastfeeding, somewhat sub!Joel, not sexual but still mature content
`18+ ONLY
- - - -
He doesn’t even have the energy to slam his truck door. The frame is bent at the top, making it close unevenly. Two, three, sometimes four or five tries before it actually clicks close. He’s been meaning to get it fixed, hell, even just take a hammer and knock it somewhat back into shape, but he’s just too fucking exhausted today.
He lays his head back against the headrest, wrinkled eyes closed upwards. His nose involuntarily wrinkles: the cushions smell like smoke too. Tommy borrowed the truck yesterday and lit up his packs. The little fucker.
He doesn’t get weekends off. He doesn’t get 8 hour shifts. He gets whatever shovel, hammer, nail and mud that needs dished out. He bears it, grunts it, heaves and shovels until his bones are cracking.
He needs home.
When Joel gets through the garage door, he sees the living room lamp light on. The girls must already be asleep. You were probably staying up awake for him. Suffering, because of him.
Fuck. He shouldn’t think about it like that. He’s grateful for you. For many reasons.
He feels shy, hesitating at the door, pretending he’s dropped something because he’s a little too embarrassed to ask this one thing of you.
“Joel?” You call out softly. It’s like swan-song to his ears, delicate and sweet.
He steps into the room. “Hey.” You tilt your head to the side with a warm, tired smile.
“You okay?”
He swallows, looking away and rubbing the back of his head as nonchalantly as possible.
You tsk him with a bemused smile. “C’mere,” you whisper, patting the open cushion next to you for his invitation.
He shuffles towards you, his hole-ridden socks gliding along the shag carpet like a toddler dragging his feet. Joel kisses your forehead, his scruffy chin brushing against your lashes briefly before you grasp his cheeks and urge him to lie next to you. He tosses his jean-clad legs up on the length of the couch, propping his elbow on the seat so that he can face you.
“Bad day?” You hum, kissing his eyelids one at a time. He breathes you in, momentarily feeling lost in your embrace. You nuzzle his nose with yours, his eyes flickering open to meet your gaze again.
“Mmm,” he grunts. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.
But his eyes drift a bit lower, fingers fiddling with the spaghetti straps of your silk night-top. His pointer traces over its path, knuckles grazing your collarbone as he pulls the strap slowly, exposing a bit more of your chest. He plays with it, like he’s telling you something without words, but still waiting for your say-so.
He glances back up at you through his brows.
“Will it help you sleep?” You coo.
He nods with big round eyes, his lips leaning forward to press a kiss to your breastbone.
You stroke his face lovingly, giving him the answer he needed as you and he both reach to pull the edge of your top down, revealing your ample breasts.
He huffs his hot breath over your nipple before blowing cool air like a whistle, loving the way it tenses from the temperature change. He brushes his thumb over your other as his lips find your nub, kissing it repeatedly. His plush lips wrap so delicately around them, baby kisses spoiling your skin.
“Five minutes. And then to bed, okay?”
He doesn’t want to waste time then.
Joel re-situates himself over you, his forearm holding himself between your thighs. He latches on to your tit, humming around your areola and starting to gently suck. Closing his eyes, he breathes steadily through his nose. Nothing audible yet, but quickly the room fills with the sound of his swallowing as his mouth is filled with your warm breastmilk.
You close your eyes, still twirling his hair with your fingers. He’s not inching for anything more. No quickened case. The two of you fall into an almost hypnotic trance of sleepiness.
His warm tongue massages your breast muscles as he works more milk out of you. He takes almost exactly 2 and a half minutes from one breast, before pulling off with a slight kiss, a droplet of white balancing off his lower lip. He eyes your other breast before putting his mouth on it, eyes closing and repeating his steady sucking.
It fills his belly so contently. Warm and sweet, traveling from your heated body directly onto his taste buds, down his throat and safely nourishing his stomach. There’s no rush. He knows you’re here, your hand gently yet tenderly placed behind his head, cupping him close so even if he loses himself in you, he knows you’re here to catch him.
If it weren’t for you to let him know its time to get to bed, he’d fall asleep right in your lap, titty still hanging from his mouth with milk pouring over the sides of his cheeks.
It’s been weeks since he’s had such a fulfilling slumber.
The next few days weren’t any easier on his body or mind. But you were never complaining.
The two of you started settling up right in bed for your nightly routine. Joel resting his head in your lap, letting the milk just fall right onto his tongue thanks to gravity. He’d drink until he was practically snoring. Then you’d stroke his face soothingly, letting him sleep like that for hours until the morning.
All the guys talked about going home to their wives or girlfriends to unwind. Have dinner. Cuddle.
He’d wake, shifting your sleeping body into a more comfortable position, laid back while he hungrily undoes your shirt again and starts drinking his breakfast straight from your boobs.
When he’s halfway through the day, he sits in his trailer at the site, wishing you could visit him for lunch. He’d lock everyone out, pull the shades, set you on his lap, and suckle your breasts for his midday snack. He wouldn’t be able to let you go though, grumbling into your chest and wrapping his arms protectively around you like a child unwilling to let go of his mommy.
He does all three with you at the same time, putting him at ease and helping him sleep like the beautiful, caring, nurturing wife you’ve always been.
He hopes he can put another baby in you soon so that people don’t keep wondering why your breasts are still so plump full of milk despite both your kids already being well off breastfeeding…
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist
#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fic#the last of us smut#last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fluff#last of us fic#the last of us fic#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou fluff#joel miller fan fic#breastfeeding!joel#breastfeeding#lactating kink#lactation kink
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 5- Miles Between Us
Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.
Word Count: 5.0K
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)
Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit
A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
You, Age 17, Spring of 2006
“You’re late, Morales.”
“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.”
It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice, he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments.
And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else.
“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve.
“No. Don’t worry about it.”
There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him.
“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?”
You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using.
You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Well obviously something’s wrong.”
“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?”
“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”
“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?”
“I’m not upset!”
“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-”
“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”
Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him.
Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon.
There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be.
“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?”
His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins.
“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.”
“It’s not a joke.”
His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time.
It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you.
“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-”
“I didn’t get in.”
Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke.
You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock.
“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”
“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!”
He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has.
“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand.
“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation.
You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say.
“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?”
It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.
“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds.
“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”
“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”
“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-”
“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.”
Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive.
“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest.
You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to.
“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear.
“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you.
His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you.
It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed.
“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?”
It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving.
“Not ‘til the end of the summer.”
“Where?”
The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace.
“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.”
He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for.
And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified.
“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.”
You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home.
You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers.
“You promise you’ll come home, right?”
“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.”
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too.
“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.”
“Anything?”
It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness.
“Anything.”
“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.”
The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did.
“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.”
Frankie, Present
Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point.
He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings.
At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you.
Well, he can’t think about you as much.
It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him.
He let you take the first shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run.
It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you.
“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!”
“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.”
“You barely run the mile in gym class.”
“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.”
There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you.
But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to.
Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans.
And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day.
Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement.
“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.”
“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings.
“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.”
“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.”
“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.”
“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.
“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).”
His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past.
“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible.
He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him.
He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer.
Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school.
The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too.
It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school.
It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble.
It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed.
Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.
Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to.
Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him.
“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”
His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage.
It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment.
With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him.
August 18th, 2006
Frankie,
I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage.
Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe
I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)
I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL.
Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person!
I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha).
I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo.
From,
Kenz :) <3
His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line.
October 13th, 2009
Frankie,
I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe.
My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet.
I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do.
Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.
Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie.
Kenzie
He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.
It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong.
February 4th, 2011
Hey,
If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways.
I guess I’ll see you when I see you.
MacKenzie
And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business.
Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull.
Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done?
Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.
He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.
He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.
He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.
If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.
If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.
@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24
@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos
@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo
@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise
@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled
@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl
@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr
@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild
@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog
@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted
@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods
@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87
@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115
@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog
@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland
@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character#triple frontier fic#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fanfiction#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales x you#francisco morales#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfic#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales fluff#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x female reader#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#pedro pascal wallpaper#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedrohub
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buck showing up at the airport to tell Eddie he loves him and kissing him before Eddie goes through security because Eddie's leaving. He's moving. This is is last chance to tell him.
Eddie sitting at his gate in shock because.. Buck kissed him? Buck loves him? And it doesn't feel weird or wrong - it feels like a puzzle piece slotting into place.
Buck spending the next week throwing himself into work and into baking and into spending time with Maddie as she recovered. He's doing his best to ignore his phone because Eddie hasn't texted and he feels like the ball is pretty firmly in Eddie's court.
Eddie getting to El Paso and it's not home. Chris though? Chris is home. Chris who he finally gets to talk to and he realizes he was so fucking stupid for waiting this long to come down here. Chris who isn't mad anymore, but feels like Eddie didn't want him. Chris who wants to go home now.
Buck opens the door to the loft one week to the day since Eddie left. One week to the day since he kissed him and probably ruined that friendship entirely. One week to the day since Buck decided to be brave and not let someone else walk out of his life without knowing what they mean to him.
And there's Eddie, smiling softly at him as he says "Hey Buck, look who I found."
And there's Chris standing next to Eddie. He's taller, his hair is shorter, but he's Chris and he's here. He's home.
Eddie watching as Buck and Chris reunite with a hug. He leans in the doorway and can't help but feel fucking content. This is home - not the loft, but the people.
When their eyes meet over Chris's head they both smile because this - this could be the rest of their lives. They'll talk about it later, once Chris is settled back in, once things have calmed down, but they both know. This is it.
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡
=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader
=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Descriptive edical procedures, reader has a medical issue, crazy sexual tension, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, kissing and teasing, the hospital is lowkey slutty. Reader like 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️
=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8.7k
=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!
♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡
=͟͟͞♡ Part Two =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist
♡ Part Three ♡
One Week Later- the OR
“Intern, those fingers ready?” Dr. Gojo says to you, as you hold the severed finger of the patient in front of you, you’ve already cleaned them out, removing the damaged tissue. Maki is watching you eagerly from the window above, as if she’s dying to get her hand on the fingers, nibbling on a snack with Yuta as they watch. You look at Gojo, nodding now. “Perfect, now come over here.”
You stand next to Dr. Gojo in the OR now, a little overheated in your face mask, holding the finger steady as he begins to work on restoring the ligaments. You watch him avidly, his expert fingers under those latex purple gloves, precise to every millimeter, wiring the finger as you hold it. It’s quiet in the room, just the two of you and the sleeping patient, along with one of the nurses checking the vitals.
“What am I doing right now, Intern?” Satoru asks, peering up at you through his goggles, only serving to magnify the blue of his eyes.
“Wiring the tendons, Dr. Gojo.”
“Exactly, and how many hours do we typically have to do this successfully?” He asks softly.
“Twenty four hours, though everything after six hours poses a risk.”
“Perfect. How are you at sutures?”
“I’m the suture queen. I am in quilting classes, you know.” You tease, he chuckles a bit then, as the nurse hands you the needle and thread. You take it with steady hands, pouring antiseptic on the exposed finger, now put back together from Gojo. He’s right next to you, watching everything you do carefully.
“Nice, very nice. Almost as good as me, actually.” You smile under your mask at the praise, as he stands so very close you can smell his cologne even in the room that smells like pure rubbing alcohol and cleaner, you can feel the body heat of him, but you focus.
You slowly continue your sutures, making sure to be as even as possible, looping the skin together bit by bit as Dr. Gojo watches you. He does not instruct you, he merely holds it in place and allows you to finish, once you do he inspects it and hums to himself in satisfaction.
“Do you want to wire the tendons?”
“Fuck yes! Oh shit…” You blush now, thankful he can’t see, but you hear his soft laughter then. “Can I?”
“Only way to learn is to do it. I’ll be guiding you.” One hand presses against your back for just a moment as he switches your positions now, making you tremble, nerves going insane as you see Maki giving you a big thumbs up. Gojo laughs as he looks at her. “You have a fan club.”
“Not like yours Dr. Gojo.” You tease, now grabbing the wire.
“And what’s this technique called?”
“Tension band wiring.”
“You’re a little nerd.” You gasp, and the nurse laughs a bit. “It’s not a bad thing, you just are one.”
“Aren’t we all who go to med school?” You ask, carefully starting to gently wire the tendons together, Satoru is right against you now.
“Figure eight motions, there you go. Beautiful.” He murmurs again, and you’re eating up the praise, the nurse steps out for a moment since he is now stable, as you’re finishing up, when suddenly something is stabbing you in your temple. You cry out, gasping, and Satoru looks at you with concern.
“What’s wrong?” He whispers, leaning closer, and you shake your head, taking a breath as you continue to finish suturing his finger up.
“I’m so sorry.” You manage to say.
“Sorry? Your hands haven’t wavered, you’re okay. What’s going on?”
“Really bad stabbing ache. I’ve had them before but this was bad… shit… please don’t-”
“I won’t tell anyone.” He assures you quietly, and your eyes flutter shut for just a moment now that he’s taken over, arms wrapped around and working over you, for a moment you lean back against his chest, before panicking. “It’s fine, no one’s watching anymore, take a moment.”
“It’s not professional-”
“You did great. Why don’t we… talk about that headache later?” You sigh, leaning against him for just a moment, feeling his heart pounding against your back steadily, slowly, it feels far too good, to shut your tired eyes and breathe.
“You don’t have to worry about it. You have enough to do.” You say softly, straightening up now and starting to apply the antiseptic carefully. Satoru stands next to you again, and you already miss him behind you, complete insanity surely.
“Just come to my office after you clean up. Yeah?” He says, the nurses come in then, and you nod carefully.
“Do you think he’ll play piano again?” You ask, carefully inspecting both of your handiwork now, the fingers sutured beautifully, but still, you know he has quite a recovery ahead. “I found him on Youtube, he’s amazing.”
“You get so mushy and attached.” He teases, you just smile.
“I guess I do. It’s a bad habit.”
“Very bad. But… I do think he’ll play again, it may take some practice and time, but we did very well.” You exhale in relief, finishing up as Dr. Gojo walks out, the pain in your head starting to come back once more.
“Shit…” You whisper under your breath, anxiety making your heart race now, but you shove it down, focusing.
Later after cleaning up and heading to Satoru’s office, it’s cracked open and you peek in, earning his laugh when he sees you. “Hey it’s not a Scooby mystery, Daphne. Well… maybe Velma, you’re so nerdy.”
You glare now, making him grin with those glinting white teeth. “You’re a regular Scooby Doo, but for sweets and BJs.” You shut the door behind you, he holds a hand to his chest.
“Ouch! That one hurts, you’re saying blow jobs are my Scooby Snacks!?” You roll your eyes.
“I’m just making sure I’m not stepping in on a… Hojo moment.”
Satoru’s lips curl up on one side, hands in the pockets of his slacks, lab coat behind his hips then, revealing his long, lithe legs. He is tilting his head, white hair falling just so. “A Hojo moment hmm? Like me and you at that party?”
“Shh!” You’re leaned up, hand on his mouth, as he laughs against your palm, heating it up. “We did nothing.”
“You know orgasms help headaches? Scientifically- don’t go!”
“You’re an ass.” You’re snatched up by him then, big hands on your narrow shoulders, frozen in place with him behind you.
“Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame me for teasing you, Miss cancels our date.”
“I really did get crazy busy, family shit. I’m sorry.” You turn back to him, feeling his fingertips brush your bare skin as they slip down your arms, and see he is pouting, you giggle then.
“You laugh at my pain, brat?”
“Brat! You’re a brat. No, your pout is why I giggled, it’s cute.” You tap his lips now, remembering the feel of them on yours, fuck it had been a long week since you two had shared that moment in your room, you may or may not have played with yourself to the memory… maybe or maybe not several times this week.
Not that you’d tell him though. Just stress relief!
Yeah?
Yeah…
“I promise I’ll make it up. I felt bad… it was actually my cousin. She had a baby recently and came down with something.”
“So you spent your only day off doctoring?”
You sigh. “Yep.”
“Nerd.”
“Hey!” He’s laughing again.
“Fine, what about a drink at the bar across the street after work then? Something easier?”
Drinks with Gojo. Dr. Hojo.
Bad idea.
“Sure.”
Fuck. Maybe you can keep your pants on this time…
“Better not stand me up, missy.” He taps your forehead now. “I want to do a CT scan first, MRI if I see anything too crazy. That okay with you?”
“But I have work, Dr. Gojo… rounds…”
“Have your friends cover for just like thirty minutes, okay? Do they know you have headaches?” He asks, eyeing you as if you’re a case now. You know that look, you see it on him constantly as he assesses his patients.
“How do you know I get them alot?”
“You rub your temples all the time, and your neck. But I figured stress and exhaustion. It could just be that. But…” He trails off, brushing back a lock of your hair now, making your body light up with the gentlest brush. “Humor me and let me see inside your head.”
“You wanna be inside me so bad.” His eyes get lidded at your joke, and your breath catches at the look on his pretty face. “Fuck, bad joke.”
“Hmm, no… it’s true.” He tilts your chin up, your breaths mingling now, as the door knocks, and you step away quickly, only to earn his lazy gaze. “Those scrubs hide such a nice little body.”
“Shush Hojo.” You smack at him now, and he opens the door, you notice it’s Miwa, he lets her in and you tense up, ready to leave, what is their deal? And why do you care!? It’s not like you all have done anything but make out and…
And…
Fuck you can’t get his demon doctor fingering skills out of your damn head, it’s like he’s implanted there, whispering your anatomy just to fuck with you. You shake yourself out of it as Satoru talks to Miwa now.
“Could you prep a CT for me please, Miwa?”
“Of course I can. Hello Doctor!” She says brightly to you, you both had been much better this week after the intense situation where she’d questioned you, now she seems to truly respect you more. Though you wish it wasn’t just Gojo’s words.
“Hello Miwa. How are you handling today? It’s been crazy.”
“I know, ugh. I’m good, I’m about to leave for the day, I’ll prep it for you, Dr. Gojo, here’s the notes for the recovery of that patient you all just worked on too.” He takes them and smiles.
“Thanks Miwa. Have a good night.” She bounces off, and he smirks down at you, snowy lashes lowering. “You’re jealous.”
“What!? No! Of what, sucking Dr. Hojo’s dick?” You cross your arms, scowling up at his snarky expression.
“It was once. I don’t tend to go on dates or carry on, you know.”
“So why ask me?”
“Maybe you’re… different.” You pause at that, blinking a bit when he steps close once more. “Maybe I really can’t get your anatomy out of my mind.”
“Shush. CT scan.” You whisper, he’s too goddamn close, leaning low over you, so close you’re studying his perfect skin and his high cheekbones, fuck he’s even prettier up close. It’s really annoying.
Those blue eyes are absolutely stunning, of course they are, but it’s not just the color, it’s all of the things emoted in his eyes, the intensity of them. Your eyes keep darting to his lips, even when the throbbing in your head comes back, you gently rub your temple as you keep flickering your gaze back to his eyes, soon his cool fingers replace your own, rubbing gently.
“You don’t want to admit you liked it.” Satoru says softly, his breath tickling you as he presses in, your eyes close at how good it feels, sighing.
“I want to be taken seriously, Satoru. Not to be the intern that gets favored because she fucks her boss.”
“You stress too much. Maybe that’s the cause of the headaches.”
“Hmm… maybe.” You lean closer now, continuing to let him rub your temples further. “You assume I wanna fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”
“Oh, it’s an educated guess. By all your body language.”
“Shush, keep rubbing.” His chest shakes against your hands with laughter as he gently cradles your face in his hands now, pressing his lips to your temple. “That feels too good, better stop.”
“You’re really annoying, intern. Mmmkay go get yourself covered so we can get it done yeah?”
“Meet you there.”
*****
“I hate this shit, I feel like I gotta pee.” You grumble now, as Satoru is injecting the contrast dye into your arm, making you feel like you’re hot everywhere as you lay on your back right outside of the machine. Satoru’s lips quirk up, you try to ignore how good the man looks as your doctor for just a moment.
Impossible.
“I know, it’s the worst, but just for a few. I’ll be right over there, looking all inside you.”
“Fuck off.” You stick your tongue out and he wiggles his brows, stepping out of the room, you get tense, feeling yourself breathing a little too fast as he now speaks through the microphone.
“Alright, pretty patient.”
“You’re flirting with your patient during a CT scan?” His teasing eases your nerves, though you don’t admit it outright, a little smile plays on your lips.
“Only patients this pretty.” He murmurs, and you ignore the blush on your cheeks, must be the contrast dye overheating you. “I’m easing you in, yeah? Just stay as still as you can and breathe.”
“Yes, Sir.” He hums then a bit, and you’re sliding into the donut shaped scanner, you always hate these things. As it starts swirling around your head in circles, you try to ignore the whirring sound, the overwhelming fear, what could be wrong, what could it mean-
“Don’t panic, it’s fine. Just checking okay?” Satoru’s voice interrupts your thoughts over the speaker now. Your nails are digging into your palm, a little sheen of moisture on your eyes that you suck up.
“Yeah.” Is all you manage, then it’s quiet as Satoru finishes the scan, as you’re eased out, he’s right there, unhooking you from the IV carefully, holding your arm and pressing a white square cotton to where he’d poked.
“You bleed a lot. Anemic?” He asks, and you should be surprised he knows, but he knows everything it seems.
“Just a bit, yes. I know, I should take my iron.”
“Mmm, anemia is pretty common in women, especially since I think all I see you eat is coffee. Maybe eat more? And add some protein?” He teases.
“I eat! But I’ll add some. Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You take his hand to help you out of the little bed then, ignoring as much as you can how good his hands feel when he steadies you by your waist, warm and pressing against your skin. Your heart races as you look up at him. “Did you see anything interesting?”
His lips tense a bit, more serious now. “I saw a little interesting spot right there, but I wanna look at it more. I’ll call you to go over it in a few?”
“Sounds good, thank you.” You manage, you don’t know how much he’s hiding or what he’s found.
“Don’t stress, intern, I will tell you if it is, yeah?” You exhale, nodding, leaning up a bit, lashes lowered as you take in those perfect lips.
“If I’m gonna die-”
“Shut it. Now get to those rounds.” He whispers, breath so close you can taste it, minty always with the mints and gum he constantly chews.
“Got it Doc.” He snorts at you, fingers brushing your jaw line, as you contemplate his jaw line, so much more defined, his face is so chiseled… his body…
Fuck.
You clear your throat, smiling. “That’s much better. I’ll talk to you soon, don’t stress about it okay?”
Sure you won’t.
*****
“Maki, what if I die before interning is over?” You grumble next to your best friend as you all make the rounds, Maki snorts now.
“Gonna die of no Dr. Gojo dick?”
“Bitch shush!” She snorts as you look around wildly.
“No bitch, you shush. Why do you think you’re dying? I mean… we all are, but why so soon? You can’t die, I need to live with you.”
“You can have the house.”
“I still want you around!” You both pause in front of the patient’s door now, sighing and looking at each other. “Is something actually wrong?”
“I’m just panicking. I have some bad headaches… and did a CT.” You murmur, she frowns then, emerald eyes studying you seriously behind her black frames.
“Everything okay?” She asks, a little softer.
“I’m sure it is, I just panic when I don’t know the answers to things. Fuck… I could use some lorazepam in the arm.” You joke, she giggles with you.
“We all could, that’s for sure. Oh fuck… look.”
You take the chart from Maki then, raising your brows as you look at the patient’s records. “They’re blue?”
You both look at each other then eagerly pace to the room, where indeed there’s a young man, and he is in fact blue. He smiles a bit at you both, waving his silvery blue tinted fingers. “Hello ladies.”
“Hello.” You both say, looking at each other, then back at him. He laughs now, sighing.
“I know, I look like Papa Smurf.”
“No!” You say.
“Yes!” Maki says, and then the three of you burst out in laughter.
“At least you’re honest.” He muses, and the both of you approach him now, you take his hand and turn it over, seeing the palms were more of a typical color.
“When did this start happening?” You ask softly, Maki is checking his vitals, not hiding her curiosity.
“I’ve been blue for… probably a month. I’ve just hidden in my house.” You put aside the medical curiosity then, you feel the pain hidden in his voice. “Didn’t wanna scare the masses.”
“Anything in particular you consume? Colloidal Silver can cause this.” You say softly, he shakes his head then.
“I don’t think so? I’d know if I took silver, right?”
“Yes, it’s a supplement. Hmm… and anyone else in the family ever…”
“Turn blue?” He finishes. You nod. “No. Not that I know of?”
Maki and you look at each other, and you can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. You’re thinking it too, but it’s so rare and so weird.
“Methemoglobinemia?” She murmurs, and you tilt your head, sighing.
“I mean it’s possible, but that’s genetic, he’d have been blue. But let’s check for that and any potential exposures to chemicals that could cause this. It’s definitely not a typical case of methemoglobinemia, but we have to rule it out. Don’t worry, we’ll get you all figured out…” You check his name. “Muta, yeah?”
“Yeah. You mean I may not be blue anymore?”
“We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise.” The door opens then, and Miwa comes in, gasping a bit, before smiling. Muta lights up when he sees her, his eyes glinting, you see it then, he has a crush.
“Your hair is the color of my skin, we’re meant to be.” Muta teases, Miwa laughs softly, coming in then as you two fill her in.
“Got it ladies, I’ll get these labs going.”
“Thanks Miwa.” You say, patting Muta’s shoulder. “We’ll get you back to normal, I promise.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And Doctor Maki.” She gives him a thumbs up, and you both walk out now, as the fluorescent lights make your headache worse. You wince now, rubbing your head again.
“Take a break babe, it’s okay. He’s not dying, he's just blue.” She says, as you are shaking your sore head now. Your phone goes off and you see it’s a text from your ex, you roll your eyes. “The ex?”
“Of course it is. Begging to see me over and over. I’m dreading the moment he comes to the house.”
“Shit, he’s really missing that coochie-”
“Maki!”
“It has cobwebs now.”
“You bitch!” You shove at her now, as Yuta and Toge walk up, both laughing at the two of you. Toge tilts his head when you rub your temples again.
“Hurt?” He asks quietly, you nod, sighing when his hand is on your forehead, you moan just slightly at how cool it feels.
“Feels so good.” You take his hand, pressing more, then feel him tense. You look up to see he’s bright red, and then he runs away. Your brows go together, as you blink in confusion, and Yuta covers his face, shaking his head.
“And you tease him! To torture him!” Yuta says, you glare then.
“What now!? His hand felt cool.” You grimace, leaning against the gray counter of the reception, as everyone flits back and forth by you.
“Hey you alright?” Yuta asks softer now, brushing back your hair.
“She’s got a nasty migraine again.” Maki murmurs, then comes with a little paper cup of water. “Drink babe.”
“Thank you.” You sip the cold water now, feeling it chill your lips and teeth. “Did I really upset Toge again?”
“He’s just in love with you, now you touched him. He’s going to be infatuated for days. I’ll have to hear.” Yuta winces now, you laugh, sucking in a breath as it starts to ache worse.
“He barely talks, how do you know?”
“It’s obvious. But you’re too into white haired doctors.” Maki whispers, earning a smack on her hand when she touches your forehead. “Hmm, no fever.”
Your phone goes off again, and thankfully it’s Gojo and not your annoying ass ex, you don’t need more of a headache. “Oh, he has results. I should go… can you-”
“We’ve got it, go.” Maki murmurs. You smile thankfully, heading towards Satoru’s office now. You knock carefully.
“Come on in.” You shut the door behind you, and Satoru smiles easily, calming your nerves somewhat.
“Come check out your brain, it’s pretty cool.” You laugh softly, and come to where he’s sitting, leaning over to peer at your brain on his laptop now. “So this… is what I think is causing your headaches.”
You look then to a little mass, panicking, damn near falling back, so much he has to catch you with his big hands. “A tumor!?”
“Calm down, no. Shh.” Satoru sits you right on his thigh then, brushing a hand down your back, tilting your chin to look at him. “I wouldn’t casually say ‘you have a tumor’ like that. Breathe.”
“Shit.” You take several breaths, leaning your head back, trying to compose yourself. “So what is that then?”
“Kind of a tumor?”
“Dr. Gojo!”
“I’ll explain if you calm down.” He presses his hands on your waist gently, pointing back to the screen. “So it’s something called a false tumor, it’s typically from head contusions. Bash your head on anything a couple years back?”
You steady your breathing now, trying to focus. “Shit, yeah I did. I was getting some things from the attic and had a whole bunch of old dvd players whack me in the head.”
“Ancient ass.” He teases.
“Hey I have VCRs up there too!”
“Fuck you’re old.”
“You’re old!” He’s chuckling now, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “You’re doing it again, cheering me up.”
“Yeah, and it worked.” He taps your nose, watching it scrunch, little crinkles on the sides of his own brilliant blue eyes as he smiles. You realize then, you don’t want to get off his lap, fuck you wanna stay here. You feel good here. His arm casually wrapped around you, and suddenly you realize your warmth on his thigh, gulping now. Did he notice!?
He notices everything.
“I should…” You go to stand, and he presses you back down, firm thigh between your thighs, pressing up where it shouldn’t through the thin fabric of your scrubs.
“You should stay, let me explain what it is. Yeah?” You nod a bit, realizing that for just a bit you couldn’t think about your head hurting, even as you all are staring right at a scan of your brain. Satoru uses one of his long fingers to point at the spot, where you see it raised up. “A false tumor.”
“False tumors, I haven’t heard much about them.”
“It’s essentially intercranial hypertension, which translates to your brain is stressy-stressy.” You snort in laughter then, and his hand far too casually brushes down the outside of your thigh as he leans forward, pressed so close against you.
“My brain is in fact stressy.”
“See! I’m so smart, admit it.” He grins deviously, you snort in laughter at him, shaking your head.
“A little bit.” You gesture, squishing just a bit of space between your finger and your thumb now.
“I’ll take it. So there’s no sense removing it, seeing as that’s just opening a can of worms. A spinal tap would help relieve the pressure.”
“Spinal tap, yuck.” He rolls his eyes.
“You’re a big baby.”
“Am not. But yuck. Anything else? Lots of tylenol?” You find yourself turning now, he’s pulled you further on his lap, it shouldn’t feel this easy, this normal. Why does your head hurting not even matter now that you’re so close to him, now that you inhale his cologne, feel his touch.
“That sounds like liver problems waiting.”
“Well my wine at night does that.” You say with a smile.
“A little wine is good for you. Blood flow.” Satoru murmurs, gently running his fingertips up and down your arms now, you tremble just a bit at it, at how good it feels, a network of goosebumps left in his wake. His blue eyes darken just a bit as he watches them form, and suddenly it’s very quiet.
“Blood flow is good.” You say softly, to fill the silence, where all you hear is the pounding in your ears. “So any option three?”
“I can inject you with something to help the pain, but you really can’t put off the tap too long. When do you actually get a break?”
“Um…” You try to focus. “I get Thanksgiving weekend off?”
“Okay we’ll do it around then.”
“You can’t just come do a tap on a holiday!”
“Sure I can, I’ll be here a couple hours anyway. But you’ll have to lie still for some time, so I just wanna make sure you have a day off.”
“Alright, the injections till then?”
“Mmhmm.” He’s closing the laptop now, and you hear your heartbeat just racing, blood pumping in your ears, Satoru raises a thin white brow. “Are you alright?”
“It’s odd, the headache is gone when you… touch me. That sounds stupid, ugh.” You stand now, covering your face with a sigh. Satoru turns you so you’re right between his long legs now, hands firm on the curve of your hips.
“It doesn’t sound stupid. You’re getting endorphins from this.” He whispers now, so pretty this close he makes you ache, Maki is right maybe you do have cobwebs there, and his touch ignites your body. Like you’re on fire, especially when he cups your face.
“Satoru, what are we doing?” You whisper, he sighs, thumb brushing across your lower lip.
“Feeling things. You think too much. So dramatic, a fake tumor and alll.”
“Jerk!” You shove at him, unable to stop the grin from forming, craving his touch, more and more, when he pulls you flush against him you melt, hands bracing on his chest now, feeling the strong muscles flex under your touch.
“We should touch more if it helps your head.” His lips are right there, your noses touching as you hover, his snowy lashes lowering over dilated eyes, hands slipping up your back, one big one splaying the expanse of it. You press even closer, feeling the heat in your tummy building. Fuck would it hurt to just-
Suddenly both of your pagers go off. “Shit, code blue.”
“Shit.” Satoru and you both jump up now, rushing out into the busy hallway, you both round the corner, the chaos of the ER coming into view. Nurses and doctors moved with a choreographed precision, each step calculated and deliberate, as one of your patients from this week is in cardiac arrest.
“Shit shit shit.” You mutter under your breath, you rush in to see one of your elderly patients this morning now flat lining. You quickly begin compressions, pressing over and over as Satoru runs in, looking at the clipboard, studying you. “We need epi!” You say to the nurse, and Satoru stops her. “Satoru!”
“DNR, intern.” He turns the paper and shows you, the giant three letters, you gasp then, looking down at the lady you are working on.
“She has kids, she has-”
“She has a choice. Off now.”
You release her now, feeling tears flow as you watch the monitor completely flatline now, you remember her kids were literally just here, with her grandkids. She was laughing, smiling. You almost thought she was doing better…
“Intern, call time of death.” Satoru says.
You scowl at him through your tears, even if you know he’s right, and he sets his lips in a firm line. You see Maki, Yuta and Toge right outside the room, their eyes looking at you with concern, with worry. “Time of death is five- fifty- one PM.”
The nurse nods and writes it down, and you carefully cover the patient with one of the thin hospital sheets. “You can’t save everyone, you know.”
“I know, I know.” You choke up then, that headache right back, making you feel sick. “But to not save someone I could?”
“Her choice was to go. She’s been in pain a long time.” Satoru says, coming to stand next to you now, you feel bile rise in your throat.
“She seemed so happy today, so energetic even!?”
“Sometimes you get that burst of energy at the end. Maybe it’s… a bigger plan out there, to give your family something of what you used to be at the end.” You look at him through watery eyes, just exhausted.
Finger surgery.
A blue man.
Your own CT scan.
Some false tumor?
Now a death.
You want to go home. You want to lay in bed, curled in a ball in the dark, where maybe your head won’t pound. You want to throw up. You want to sleep for fucking days, trying to just not think. You want to just…
“Martha, her name was Martha.” You say now, and Satoru nods, a hand on your shoulder.
“Her name was Martha. Do you want me to tell the family?”
“No, she’s my patient. I will.” He nods then, eyes following you as you stiffly walk out, Maki, Yuta and Toge all come to you, but you hold a hand up. You’re barely keeping it together as it is, if one of them hugs you, you know you’ll fall apart. “I’m fine you all, promise.”
As you tell the family she passed, instead of the typical extreme upset, they almost seem a bit relieved, upset but relieved. “She was in so much pain, I think now… she’s free of it. Do you?” Martha’s son asks, and you struggle to hold you composure, feeling your stomach want to retch it’s contents, which were literally just coffee and a fucking croissant from this morning.
“She’s not in pain anymore.” You agree softly, and Martha’s granddaughter, about your age comes next to her dad now, looking at him, then you.
“Did she seem peaceful?” She asks softly, you nod then, giving a touch of comfort to her shoulder.
“She did, she seemed so happy to have been with you all I think. You may see her if you wish to.”
“We would like that. Thank you.” After they walk out you watch them pass by Satoru, who has his eyes on you.
You can’t let him see you so weak! You shouldn’t be so weak, you’re a doctor, you see death every single day. You rush into the locker room, thankfully finding it empty, before heading to the bathroom, leaning in and emptying the contents of your stomach, retching everything out. You get so weak as you do, dry heaving then as you feel yourself falling apart.
You’re sobbing over the toilet, flushing it, when you hear the door open and close, and suddenly you feel hands on your back. You shake your head, taking several breaths. “Go away, it’s gross.”
“You just cleaned out fingers that were cut off.” Satoru says softly, you laugh then, in between tears, as he holds your hair back for you. “Aw it’s like we’re besties, just having drinks you know.”
“Oh stop it. I’d kiss you if I didn’t just puke.”
“Please don’t, I don’t like you that much.” You laugh once more, before bursting into tears, and Satoru holds you, brushing your hair gently as you cling to him. “It’s normal to break down, surprised it took you so long. Been months.”
“I want to keep it together. I want to so badly.” You’re soaking his light purple scrub top, you see the blotches of tears forming as you cry more, letting him hold you. “Why are you so…”
“So handsome? So smart?”
“So comfy.”
“Huh, didn’t expect that one. Calling me fat, brat?” You giggle again, looking up at him now, his pretty face swims with how many tears you have.
“Not at all, no body fat on you. Just… comfortable I guess.” Your hand rests right over his heart, feeling it steady under you, trying to make your heart match, to slow your breathing down. Maki walks in then, kneeling quickly, brushing your hair back.
“Baby, you okay?” She asks softly, and you manage a weak little nod, as she kisses your head. “You’ve had a long day.”
“We all do, I shouldn’t act like this.”
“Babe we all puked at some point. Yuta was the first day.”
“He’s got a weak stomach, that one.” Satoru says, then looks at you and Maki with a little smile. “Maki, stay with her for a bit, I’ll get her some zofran, and I’ll get you something for the headache, yeah?”
You nod weakly, holding his hand then. “Thank you.” You say, he runs a thumb over your knuckles and just stands then, heading out. Maki cups your face carefully, studying you.
“You okay? Seriously.”
“I have some… fake tumor thing.” She gasps. “No, no, it’s fake. I don’t know… Satoru said maybe a spinal tap?”
“Satoru huh. Chummy.” You roll your eyes, sniffling as she helps you up. “Let’s brush your teeth, you don’t wanna kiss your doctor like this.”
“Maki, I can't kiss him. I can’t be with him.” You choke up once more.
“Just stay careful and sure you can. Do you think he’s serious though, or is it one of his… what do you call them?”
“Hojo moments.” You brush your teeth in the sink, grimacing at your appearance, you have mascara streaked under the dark circles of your eyes.
“Hojo moments… well about Miwa, seems like her and Papa Smurf are actually hitting it off. He’s hot now that his blue is fading.”
You perk up now, brows raising. “The blue is fading!?”
“Mmhmm, your first guess of methemoglobinemia was correct. Does that make you feel better maybe?” Maki’s eyes are concerned, you nod then, making her smile return just a bit. “Knew it, Miss know it all.”
“That’s you!” You spit out toothpaste, rinsing your mouth out now, as both of you laugh. The alarm goes off, your shift is done. “How’d it not present itself for so long I wonder?”
“I’m wondering the same thing. Already started the Methylene blue and Insane doses of Vitamin C. It’ll take a bit but he’ll be normal soon.” You wash up your face now, dabbing the bits of mascara off.
“One good thing today.”
“Two good things.” Satoru says, as you and Maki head to the locker room. “The finger surgery seems successful so far, we’ll keep him and monitor, but he could feel them.” You grin at that, at least something was going good today, aside from the ever more comfortable presence of Doctor Gojo.
“That is good news!”
“Now have a seat, let me make you feel good.” He teases with a grin, Maki snorts then, heading to her locker.
“Let me get out of here first, god.” You stick your tongue out, as Maki is sliding off her scrub top.
“I should get out of these real quick too if that’s okay? Before you poke me.” You say, he nods then, setting down the two vials.
“Let’s all get naked then, ladies.”
“Oh jesus.” Maki is dressed quickly, sliding her jacket on while Satoru is undressing, she sees him shirtless then and gives you an audacious wink, earning another eye roll from you. “Is she good to drive Dr. Hunk?”
“She’ll be fine from it, don’t worry. If not, I'll take her home. Having a drink after work anyway.” Maki pats your head once more, kissing your forehead then.
“See you home then. Night Dr. Hunk.” Satoru is giving some smoldering look that makes you and Maki both almost pee your pants, as she leaves you both alone now. Satoru has slid into a soft long sleeve black shirt and dark jeans, as you’ve gotten into your own clothes, you keep your jacket off, sitting on the bench and holding your arm out now.
“It needs to get injected in your ass.” He says then, and you gasp, making him grin wide.
“No way!”
“Yes way. Not the zofran, that’s just a little pill. Open up, pretty.” You open your mouth now, and he places the little pill under your tongue, gently closing your mouth with his fingers pressing your chin up.
“Fuck I hope it works quick.” You sigh as it dissolves, Satoru nods and tears open the package now, grinning like a devious ass devil. “You really gotta do this in my ass cheek!?”
“I really do. I’ll be completely professional, no worries.”
“Uh-huh sure. Well… alright then.” You turn now, unzipping your jeans and pulling them down, revealing your ass cheeks and your panties. He whistles, a hand coming to trace the bottom of them now, making your tummy clench with desire from just that. “So professional.”
“I need the panties off.”
“You do not. Dr. Pervert.”
“I’m Dr. Hojo and Dr. Pervert now?”
“Mmhmm. Fine, you little shit.” You slide down your panties completely, and his breath catches as he sees you, suddenly he’s quiet, then he’s bending down to sit on the bench, turning your now bare ass to him.
“You hiding that ass in your scrubs is such a crime.” You shake your head, ignoring how good his touch feels, even as he’s dabbing an alcohol pad on it, his breath against your skin does insane things, you have trouble forming a word.
“Your flattery works on those girls because you’re hot, not because you have any rizz, you’re so rizzless.”
“Rizzless my ass.”
“Ow!” Satoru has jabbed the shot in your ass cheek then, it stings and burns, you cry out, nearly jerking, so he holds you still with a hand on your hip. “You jabbed it hard on purpose!”
“Aw, need me to take it easy when I stick it in, baby?”
“Oh fuck off! Oh… I… mmm…” Suddenly the headache you’ve had all damn day is easing, you sigh now, feeling so blissful you can ignore the fact that your ass stings. You ease your panties up now, then your jeans, sighing as you turn to him, they’re still unbuttoned and unzipped, his eyes are locked right on you. “That felt so good, thank you Satoru.”
“You’re welcome, intern.” He murmurs, softly, watching you zip up your jeans and button them. “You’ll still need the tap, it’ll help for months.”
“I will. Thank you for everything today, really.” You cup his face now, before thinking better of it, pressing your lips against his softly. “A thank you kiss.”
“Can I get a thank you hand job? I’m having an issue.” You shake your head with a laugh, running your fingers through his soft hair.
“Absolutely not. But you can buy me a drink.” You grab your jacket and slide it on, and he eagerly hops up.
“Yeah?” His blue eyes light up, melting you further.
“Yeah. I’ll meet you there, Dr. Pervert.” You grab your keys, but Gojo passes you quickly as you all walk out, opening your door before he runs off to the car, making you giddier than you’d admit.
*****
“You’re drinking the fruitiest drink they make.” You say later on, as you both are sitting at the bar, and the bartender hands you a cosmopolitan cocktail, and hands Satoru a Sex on the Beach.
“Lemme enjoy my sex mmkay?” You go to pay and he stops you. “Put it on my tab please, and a tip for now.” Satoru hands the bartender cash, he smiles at the two of you.
“Anything you all want, fruitier even.” You both laugh now, and Satoru and you go find a little table on the side of the bar towards the window, you sit and sip on your drink as your phone buzzes away. You swipe it off.
“Annoying ex?” Satoru asks, leaning back as he looks at you.
“He’s so annoying. It’s been months of me ignoring him, you would think he’d get the hint.”
“And you don’t date now?”
“Um… it’s hard to think about dating with our hours, you know?” He nods then, pouty lips encircling a straw as he sucks up more of his drink, and you wonder at how Satoru makes everything look sexy. “Do you date?”
He flicks his gaze up and down your body slowly, leisurely, as if he’s caressing you with his look. “Are you asking me out, intern?”
“Oh whatever, you asked me!”
“I don’t date right now, no, but I guess I have different reasons.” He murmurs, looking off to the window for a moment.
“Would you date? No, I'm not asking you out.” You say, studying him as he licks his lower lip, drawing your attention further to things you shouldn’t.
“I would, I’m not against it, I guess no one has sparked my interest enough. I mean aside from physically.”
“Any crazy exes?”
“I have an evil ex, actually. She’s scary.” He shivers now, you tilt your head curiously, sipping your own drink, feeling the warmth flow through you.
“Is she now? Like mean?”
“She’s mean alright. We just didn’t work out, our parents pushed us to get married too young, prominent families this and that. But we never even liked each other, she was pretty happy to divorce me. And I was too.” You digest the information slowly, mouth opening just slightly. “Yeah, I was married.”
“I didn’t expect that. You seemed like a bachelor, I guess.”
“I am about to be thirty four, you think I was single this long? Nah, I’m too handsome, baby.”
“Not your baby.” You kick at his feet, but he just grips your thigh now, burning over the layer of denim, and you wish it were on your skin instead.
“Not yet. You’re in love with me already, you just don’t know.”
“Oh am I?” He’s leaning closer across from you, blue eyes glittering in the dim lights of the busy bar.
“Mhm, you are. It’s okay, everyone falls in love with me.”
“You’re so loveable, so humble.”
“I know I am… hey.” You giggle now, smacking his hand off, finishing your little martini off and exhaling.
“I needed this, ugh… thank you Satoru.” He smiles a bit, finishing his as well now. “Your wife was… well, you’re not a guy you leave.”
Shit, you said that.
You cover your face then at his look of surprise. “I’m sorry-”
“Why apologize for that? Sounded like a compliment. But she left for good reasons, we hated each other and were miserable. She still hates me still, but we’re more friendly now. Your boyfriend, did he leave you?”
“No, I left him. He was too controlling and I just… wasn’t feeling it. It sounds so silly compared to an entire marriage.”
“Nah, not at all.”
“I also just put med school first, I really did. I don’t think I gave him the attention he needed. So it’s on me a bit.”
“That’s mature as fuck.” You shrug a bit.
“Well, we had a drink, hmm?”
“Let’s have two?” You sigh, leaning forward on the table, elbow propped up, chin in your hand as you study the handsome man across from you.
“Two sounds like my resolve slips.” You say softly, Satoru leans forward as well, brushing your hair behind your ear, every touch and look making you weaker and weaker for him.
“Would that be so bad, intern? To let go.” You exhale now, leaning into the caress, lashes fluttering shut and casting shadows on your cheeks as he studies you for a moment.
“I have a feeling it would be hard to let you go.”
“Yeah, what if I bust quick? Have a small dick?” You burst into laughter now, and he pouts. “Maybe it is small, meanie.”
“That’s the other rumor, Gojo, that your dick is huge.” He blushes a bit, surprising you. “Oh you didn’t know that one! Shit.”
“I mean I’m not complaining but god, girls are gossipy.”
“Like you’re not!”
“Another drink?” He asks, standing up then, your gaze trails up his lithe, long body, as you feel the warmth spread through you.
“One more.” You agree, and he holds out his hand for you to stand, bringing you almost against him, knowing you’re teetering on the edge of a dangerous game, and when you both grab your next drink, Miwa walks in now, she pauses for a moment, before waving at the two of you and coming over.
“Dr. Gojo, I never see you at the spot.” She says, and for some reason you get nervous, looking down a bit.
“Yeah I decided she wouldn’t meet me for a date so I’d connive her into meeting me here at least.” He ruffles your hair and you huff, fixing it, ignoring the pounding in your heart at how good it felt to hear.
“A date?”
“Well, a pre date. Just a drink but she blew me off.”
“I really didn’t mean to. Um… is this weird or anything Miwa?” You ask nervously, she shakes her head with a little smile.
“Oh no, you’re fine. What you saw um… let’s just say I was having a bad day is all. We’re not together.”
“Heard you like Papa Smurf?” Gojo teases, she smacks at him then.
“He’s sweet. And less blue. Oh, my friends are here! See you two later.” She says, you watch her curiously, and Satoru is smirking down at you.
“Not everyone has to be dating or have feelings. You’re like some eighteen-hundreds Victorian lady.”
“Am not!” You’re laughing again as you all sip another drink, sitting side by side now, your phone goes off again now and you roll your eyes.
“Send him a pic of us together.”
“Shit that’s mean.”
“He’s a dick though? Yeah?”
“You tell me.” You lean close now, showing him the endless texts. Satoru whistles as he reads them, scrolling up.
“Shit, gaslight much?”
“The king. Fuck you smell good.” Your alcohol is clearly hitting, Satoru chuckles once more, hand stroking up and down your spine carefully.
“You smell good, sweet like lavender.” He speaks right against your ear, tickling it as he inhales now, sighing. “I noticed you switched shampoo back.”
“Hush, it wasn't because of you.”
“Of course not.”
You have the most fun you can remember, fuck when don’t you enjoy Satoru Gojo? When he’s walking you over to your truck, and the music is just a low hum now, though you feel it pulsing through your body, Satoru’s pressing your back against the car door, hands on either side of the top of your car, hard body so good against you. You bite your lower lip, hands sliding down his jacket.
“You want me so bad, you love to fight it. Why?” Satoru says softly, cupping your face with one hand now, leaning low.
“I don’t wanna be a notch in Dr. Hojo’s bed post.” You say softly. “I’m not judging, but I don’t wanna be just that to someone. I totally was going to at the party, ugh, but it’s not me. So, I fight it.”
“I have a feeling if I got you, I wouldn’t want more notches.” His thumb strokes your lip side to side, eliciting a little cry from the back of your throat that you can’t quite stop before it comes out.
“You think so, hmm?”
“Judging by your hot, sweet little pussy, yes.” Your cunt throbs around goddamn nothing, reacting to his words, to him pressing you further against your big old SUV, the cool metal against your back. “Those sounds you make…”
“Fuck… kiss me.”
“You’re demanding. And confusing, you know that?” His soft words are right against your lips, you cry out then, pulling him down as you tiptoe, kissing him over and over, mouth moving over his, his tongue slipped in between your lips. Your tongue slips around his, dancing then, as his big hands grip your waist.
Your hands slide up his chest, entwining around his neck, breasts pressing against his hard abdomen, nipples growing tight as desire fills you more and more. He grabs one of them now, thumb brushing over a peak, eliciting a whimper, your head falling back now, neck begging for his kisses. Satoru’s kissing your neck and grabbing your breast right in front of a damn bar.
It’s insane.
It’s stupid.
Right?
“Fuck I want to feel you again.” His husky voice melts you now, you’re now whining for more and more, pathetic for him, were you worried too much, could you just do this, just have sex? Did there have to be such complicated shit you always put on yourself? “You’re thinking too much.”
“How do you know?” Your words are against his ear now, as you flick your tongue on the earlobe, nipping just a bit.
“I just know, and you need to just feel.” He’s sliding his hand under your shirt, across your tummy, making it tremble under his touch, goosebumps rising. “How’s it feeling, pretty?”
“Feels… fucking good.” He chuckles deeply, as you breathlessly laugh, kissing him over and over. “But I usually need things to mean something. I know I’m lame.”
“That’s not lame.” He cups your face with both hands now, blue eyes boring into yours, the soft glow of the street lights ensconcing him, making him look even more handsome somehow. Even prettier. “It means something when I’m kissing you.”
You feel everything react to him, to his words. “It does?” He nods then, nuzzling your noses together, and his phone goes off, he sighs, scowling at it now.
“The ex?”
“Nah, parents. Worse. Say… you wanna pretend we date so I can bring a girl home for Thanksgiving?”
“What now?” You blink up at him.
“Yeah… they really want me to bring a girl home. You’re perfect too, they’d fucking love if I brought a top notch Kyoto Med school grad?”
“Oh gosh… I mean, I have no plans?”
“Perfect. It will make my mom so damn happy, she’ll love you. Aw we’re moving so fast you know.” He’s grinning wolfishly, eyes glinting down at you.
You love the idea far, far too much. “Alright, a good spinal tap and then I’m a whole Thanksgiving date.”
“Works perfectly for me. Good night, intern.” Satoru kisses you one more time, leaving you breathless.
“Good night, Dr. Gojo.” You slide into your car, covering your face and squealing then, yes you’re squealing like you’re fifteen again, not a twenty six year old doctor. “His kisses…” You squeal again, overheated as you go to start your car with a roar then, hating that you’re like some lovesick teenager.
Then you see him.
Satoru Gojo grinning as he watches you through your window. You gasp, sputtering, limbs flailing as you scream out, rolling down the window then, glaring right at him. “What the fuck!”
“Aw, you do love me. Already. So easy, intern.” Satoru teases, leaning in then, far too close.
“Whatever! Good night Dr. Gojo.”
“You-”
“Bye!” You leave then, catching his reflection in your rearview, stupid giddy grin on your damn face.
Shit this is gonna be messy.
So a LOT in this, I really want to explain how it would be to have SO much going on during a typical day, I hope it doesn't overwhelm her and Dr. Hojo's connection. We will be learning a lot more about Reader's ex and Satoru's ex soon <3
A/N: Totally added my own prob as a medical thing lol ( false brain tumor) they're rare and interesting. I love you all and can't wait to hear your thoughts!!!
Taglist: @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @jjknanamin
#gojo x reader#jjk smut#satoru x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#doctor gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#satoru gojo smut#gojo fluff#gojo fic
146 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hoii :) i saw that you liked making luci x reader mini stories and i LOVE THEM. I just have a tiny petite itty bity request for a new story. Id love to see either a story about him gicing us aome after care after spoicy time or apologizing after an argument. Take as much time as needed. Thank youuu <3
jealousy, jealousy ⊹ ࣪𐙚꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱。⋆
summary: you recently got a new job working for Voxtech, causing you to come home late nearly every day. Lucifer's a bit angry that you keep missing dinner, which sparks an argument (word count: 1.3k).
warnings: mentions of Valentino, arguing/yelling (obviously), crying, swearing, accusations of cheating, Lucifer's kind of a jackass in the beginning, mentions of death (reader talks about life when they were alive), generally gn!reader terms
a/n: hello!! this is a really cute idea so tysm for requesting it! i'm really sorry i haven't gotten to other stories, I've been so busy 😭
tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on or off of the taglist!) @o-kye @zuuriell @strangleetomz@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @average-vibe @back-totheoldhouse @prettysinners @lovevxle
You recently got a new job at one of the largest companies in Hell, Voxtech, as Vox's secretary. When you got the job, you mainly wanted to do it because of the pay, thinking that you wouldn't have to do much as a secretary.
But boy, you were wrong.
You rarely sat down during work hours unless you were on lunch break, and even then Vox and other employees were asking you to come help, or Valentino was trying to persuade you to work for him for double the pay (you 'politely' declined every time). You were constantly printing and filing papers, answering calls to deal with angry customers or business meetings that Vox needed to attend, arranging those meetings and appointments, helping with report preparation for staff meetings (nobody really paid attention to them anyway unless Vox was threatening them to do so), managing databases, etc. You almost always worked overtime, which meant your nightly dinners with Lucifer seldom occurred; on the days you were off or didn't work overtime, you usually rested through half of it and didn't have the energy to eat or make dinner for the two of you.
Tonight was no different; you got home later than you usually did and were greeted by the sight of an angry Lucifer.
"Where were you?" he asked, his arms crossed. "Do you know how late it is?"
"Hi, honey," you said breathlessly, taking off your shoes and jacket. "I'm so sorry I got home late, Mr. Vox really needed me to finish up reports for the next staff meeting tomorrow and it was such a-"
"No, be honest," he interrupted. "Where were you?"
"In the...office," you said, raising a brow. "Where else would I have been?"
Lucifer scoffed. "Sure, sure."
"Lucifer, you know how he's making me work late," you sighed, dragging an aching hand down your face. "If I could come home earlier, I would, but Mr. Vox is a busy man."
"Busy with what?" Lucifer snapped, much to your surprise. "Adultery?"
"Honey, what are you talking-" you started.
"Don't 'honey' me," Lucifer laughed coldly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"You think I'm cheating on you with my fucking boss?" you said. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Lucifer mocked your tone. "I have eyes. I can see. Do you not see how he shows you off on TV? How he preaches about you at company gatherings and dinners? You two are fawning over each other, it's clear as day."
"Oh, so my boss isn't allowed to think I'm a good worker?" you said sarcastically. "Great, I'll make a note of that, thanks."
"Stop that, Y/N," Lucifer exclaimed. "Don't act like nothing is going on. He can tell people that you're a good worker without bragging about you like you're a trophy. He doesn't deserve to do that when he makes you work your ass off every day until the crack of dawn. If you're even working," he muttered.
"Look," you retorted, dropping your bag on the ground, "I'm sorry that I work late nights and that I can't have dinner with you every day. But you could at least be happy that I have such a good job. You can appreciate that I'm doing well at work and my boss likes me. That's not fucking hard. And, yeah, I am working, thank you."
"If you're actually working so late, why does he put his arm around you in interviews, hm?" Lucifer crossed his arms and stepped closer to you. "Why does he think he can touch you?"
"Jesus Christ, Lucifer, people are allowed to like me!" you exclaimed. "He does that with every worker there!"
"Yeah, sure, he's having an affair with every worker there," Lucifer said furiously.
"You really think I'd cheat on you?" you hissed, hot tears bubbling up in your eyes. "You sit there an-and talk about how it's good that we trust each other, yet as soon as my new boss likes me suddenly I'm a slut."
"I never called you a slut, Y/N," Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic!" you shouted, your face warm and sticky with tear streaks. "You are treating me like I'm a slut! Look, I'm sorry you're jealous, okay? But I'm pretty sure people aren't suspecting that I could potentially be having an affair with Vox because of how you act in public around me! People are putting too much attention on me and you to even think that!"
"That's rich coming from a world-class attention seeker," Lucifer shouted, freezing as soon as the words came out of his mouth. His eyes widened when yours did, and he looked like he'd just spewed out bile.
"No, wait, Y/N-" he started when he saw you put your shoes on and grab your bag again.
"No," you snapped, "clearly I'm not wanted here, so I'll go."
"I never said I wanted you to leave, sweetheart, please-"
"Don't call me fucking 'sweetheart'," you growled, glaring at him through glassy eyes. "And I can tell you don't want to be around a world-class attention seeker, so I'll leave and spare you." You walked out and slammed the door before he could continue, the sound of rain drowning out the sound. You muttered a "great" under your breath before walking out of the house and onto the sidewalk to pull out your phone to call someone.
"Hi, Y/N!" Charlie's voice rang through the speaker. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need a ride," you tried to say calmly, but it came out strained and wobbly.
"Oh, I'm so so sorry, but I'm super busy right now and I can't drive over there," Charlie said apologetically, "but I could call Angel!"
"That works," you sniffled. "Thank you."
"Of course!" Charlie said sweetly. "Hope you feel better, Y/N!" The disconnect sound came through promptly after. You sighed and sat under an awning, shivering from your rain-soaked clothes. You slumped your head against a wall and cried softly, your eyes shut tight.
Around 15 minutes later, you felt warm, fluffy arms wrapping around you and Angel Dust's voice saying, "Hey, hey, you're okay, toots, let's get in the car and get you to the hotel." You took his hands and stumbled over to the car, slumping into the passenger seat.
"Trouble in paradise?" Angel asked, driving to the hotel. You nodded weakly. "You two will get over it. You're perfect for each other."
"I hope so," you sniffled.
The next day...
You heard a soft knocking at the door of the room you were sleeping in; it was Angel's room, but he'd gone to sleep in Husk's room so that you could have privacy.
"Come in," you said groggily, sitting up and finger-combing through your bedhead.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing a nervous Charlie and an even more nervous Lucifer (although his cheeks were rosy from seeing you so sleepy). Charlie pushed him into the room, gave you a thumbs up, and closed the door, leaving the two of you in the room, swallowed by the silence.
He hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of the blankets. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah," you nodded. "I was cold for a little bit, but I slept fine."
"Your clothes got wet from the rain, I'm guessing?" Lucifer said.
You nodded. "Charlie put them in the wash, bless her heart," you chuckled. He chuckled lightly with you.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, taking your hands in his, "for everything I said. You didn't deserve a word of that. You're such a great worker and I'm so incredibly proud of you, sweet darling. You're not an attention seeker and I should've never even thought you would cheat on me."
"Thank you, Lucifer," you smiled. "I'm sorry for storming out on you without letting you apologize, that was unfair on my part."
"You had every reason to storm out on me," Lucifer said, squeezing your hands. "I'm surprised you didn't do anything else," he laughed.
"I wouldn't have the heart to do it," you returned with a laugh, his smile, that gorgeous smile, widening at the sound.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Please, love, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just ask."
"Cuddles?" you grinned.
"That works for me," he laughed.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel 2024#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel season 1#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin fandom#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer hazbin x you
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)
i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now
although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.
i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense
as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.
anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.
sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.
anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
Never In A Million Years, Unless... -part 3
Part 1. Part 2.
Summary: Melissa has an important question to ask you, in front of all of your special guests.
WC: ~2.75k
“Nonna’s ring?” Kristen Marie nearly shouts into the phone, and for a split second, your girlfriend glances down at you to pray you don’t wake up.
“Nonna’s ring,” Melissa confirms. “I’ve decided that if I’m gonna give marriage another try, it should be with Y/N.”
“What happens when you split from her and don’t get the family heirloom back?”
“Shut the hell up,” the redhead nearly hisses. “I know we ain’t breakin’ up. She’s put up with my ass for years- why would she leave now?”
“I’ll have it for you at family dinner on Sunday,” the blonde sighs.
“One thing though,” Melissa says quietly. At the hum, she continues. “You can’t tell nobody.”
“Why the hell would I say anything?”
“To get back at me for God knows what.”
“I like to fuck with you, but I don’t go messing with Y/N,” Kristen Marie promises. “Now get off the phone; I need my beauty sleep.”
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Melissa teases her sister. “Night.”
Melissa gets the family heirloom at Sunday’s dinner, and she sneakily hides it in her purse.
That Monday, your girlfriend is able to get Barbara alone before the kids all come in while you’re off preparing for this week’s lessons.
She just pulls the ring out of her purse and plants it in her best friend’s hands.
Barb’s eyes go wide. “Is this what I think it is?”
“An engagement ring? Yeah.”
“No,” the kindergarten teacher shakes her head before amending, “Well, yes. But is this your Nonna’s ring?”
The redhead nods her head. “If I’m gonna give that ring to anyone, it’s gonna be Y/N.”
“Melissa, dear, this is wonderful,” Barbara hands back the ring. “Does anyone else know?”
“Just Kristen Marie,” the second grade teacher rolls her eyes as she carefully puts the ring back in her bag. “And now you. I need your help.”
“My help?”
“When it gets nicer out, I told Y/N we could have a barbecue at our place, and I want everyone to be there… no one listens to anyone more than they listen to you.”
Your grade level partner smiles a smile that meets her eyes. “Of course. You just tell me a date and time.”
“Saturday, May 18th,” Melissa states.
“You already know the date?”
“I had some time to look over the dates while Y/N was in the shower and text with her mother about coming over that day,” the redhead shrugs. “So, can I count on you?”
“Of course you can,” Barbara grins as she squeezes her best friend’s shoulder. “Now, go help that girlfriend of yours before she loses her damn mind. I know she’s been stressed about this week, what with the benchmark testing happening and conferences coming up.”
And so, Melissa does just that. When she comes into your classroom, you seem to be up to your eyeballs in paperwork. Her eyes immediately see how tense you are in your shoulders.
“Mi amore,” she sighs softly as she comes to stand behind you. Her hands gently rest on your shoulders before she begins massaging them.
You smile at the contact and pause your work for a brief moment to crane your neck and kiss her. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Warm lips are on yours for a brief second before she glances at what you’re doing. You’re currently getting portfolios together for your kids to show their parents at conferences.
“Babe,” she tuts softly. “Conferences aren’t for another two weeks, and we still have quarterly testing to do.”
“I know,” you mutter. “I just want to get a head start on it.”
“You’re already worlds ahead of me,” your girlfriend sighs. “Take a breather and enjoy your coffee with me.”
“Mel,” you all but whine out.
So, with a heavy breath, the redhead pulls up a chair next to you and begins to go through the paperwork with you. Only, you pause your work to admire her. Her hair is beautifully cascading down her shoulders, her eyeliner looks so sharp today, the way her glasses are on the tip of her nose gets you going, and her clear focus on something she clearly doesn’t want to do but is willing to get over it for you- it has you enamored.
“Was this your plan?” your girlfriend teases as she continues to thumb through the papers. “Get me to do your work while you just stare at me?”
You shake your head goodheartedly before planting a quick kiss to her cheek. “Just admiring my gorgeous woman.” And then the two of you are nose deep in filing the work for your five and six year olds.
May 18th comes all too quickly, and yet somehow it feels like forever to the redhead for the day to come. But here the two of you are, cleaning your house up and down, making sure the floors are vacuumed or mopped, checking that the couch cushions are fluffed to Melissa’s liking, and just generally making sure the house is presentable.
“I think it looks good,” you say as you scrub the last of the pots that had sat in the sink to soak overnight.
Melissa hums as she tightens the messy ponytail that she has her red locks in. “I guess. I just don’t want everyone thinkin’ we live in some slum.”
You bite back a chuckle at that as you move towards her to wrap your arms around her neck. “With all due respect, we’ve been to Janine’s. We’re just fine, hun.”
Your girlfriend purses her lips as she mulls over your statement.
Before the two of you know it, your first guests are arriving at your house. Thankfully, you had the time to shower and change out of your cleaning clothes before Barbara and her husband show at your doorstep.
Not a long time has passed before everyone has shown, including all of the Abbott clan that you had invited. It’s funny seeing the way that the groups manage each other. Melissa’s family is a bit more stiff, your family is as bouncy and talkative as you, and the Abbott group moves as a group as they try to learn everything they can about the two of you.
“Ma,” both you and your girlfriend yell at your respective parents.
“What?”
“Stop embarrassing me!”
Melissa’s mother and sister are currently telling Barbara and Jacob about the shenanigans your girlfriend used to get up to as a girl while your mother is showing Janine and Gregory baby pictures that she has of you on her phone.
Both of your parents just wave you off with shit eating grins, and the two of you breathe a deep sigh.
“Was this our best idea yet?” you ask sarcastically. “Having everyone we know under one roof to exchange every embarrassing story they could possibly have on us?”
Melissa just sighs. “I have no fuckin’ clue. I hope it’s worth it.”
“What do you mean?” you ask softly, not knowing of her plan to propose.
Green eyes look into yours as she quickly searches for an excuse. “I mean, we have a life together. They’d all intermix eventually- might as well be on our time as opposed to by accident.”
“I suppose you may be right,” you chuckle softly as you lean in to kiss her, tangling your fingers together softly. You pull her along toward the direction of the kitchen to begin prepping the burgers you know she and Mr. Johnson will be cooking up later.
“So why are we all here? And don’t give me no trash excuse,” Mr. Johnson asks the redhead as they’re making the burgers together. “There’s gotta be a real reason.”
Melissa scopes out the area, and you’re invested in a conversation with your mother and Janine about only God knows what. She leans in and whispers, “I’m proposing. Wanted the important people here.”
“The Abbott crew is that important to you?” the custodian raises a brow as he flips a burger.
“Family,” she tells him. “An’ if she says yes, will you walk with me down the aisle?”
Mr. Johnson pauses his motions and looks to your girlfriend with wide eyes. “Tell me you’re playing. I know I didn’t hear you right.”
“I ain’t, and you did.”
He claps a hand on her shoulder with a dazzling smile. “Hell yeah I will- when she says yes.”
“You really think she’ll say yes?”
“Melissa, Melissa, Melissa,” Mr. Johnson chuckles fondly. “I’m not sure about a lot of things. But if I’m certain about one thing, it’s that your woman loves you, and she’ll say yes.”
Dinner is on the table, all of your friends and family gathering around for a nice meal- all except for your girlfriend, Kristen Marie, and Barbara.
“Where the hell could they be?” you mutter to yourself as you begin to get up out of your chair.
“Just let them be,” Mr. Johnson practically forces you back into the chair. He knows what those three are doing. They’re pulling champagne flutes out of the cars and pouring enough for everyone to toast to the two of you.
“I’m sure they could use some-” You go to get out of your seat again.
“I said let them be, woman!” Mr. Johnson instructs you in an unusually serious tone. “Jesus, so stubborn, just like your girlfriend.”
You furrow a brow at his odd behavior, but you let it go. With a soft sigh, you settle back into your seat.
It’s only a few minutes later that Melissa, her sister, and her work wife come into the room. But they’re empty handed.
“Where the hell were you?” you ask as she stands by her seat next to you. Barbara and Kristen Marie stay by the door.
“I had a few things I had to prepare for,” is all she says.
“And that would be?”
She takes her stein of beer that’s been set beside her plate by you so graciously, and taps on it with a fork. You give her a look that tells her you have no idea what’s happening. But everyone’s eyes turn to her, and the small chatter that had once filled the room is gone. You don’t notice that Barbara has pulled out her phone to begin filming.
“Hey, everyone,” Melissa smiles that charming smile of hers. “I got somethin’ important I wanted to say.”
“Mel, what?” you pull her in close and whisper into her ear. “What announcement are we making?”
“Just wait, hun,” she tells you.
“I would’ve thought we would’ve discussed whatever you’re going to say to the whole group.”
“Can you be patient for like two minutes?”
You’re not so sure that you like the tone that your girlfriend has taken with you, but you hold your hands up in surrender.
She just smiles at you before shining green eyes look back around the patio at the people you love enough to bring into your home. “I got somethin’ I wanna say. Today is a special day for me an’ Y/N, and we… I wanted all of the people that matter the most to us to be here for it.”
“What’s today?” you ask quietly. Silently, you go through your mind for special dates. None of those dates are in May. “Hun, what are you-”
“Everyone here knows that I was married before. Not too keen on the idea of remarrying. Told quite a few of youse-” she glances to her mother, her sister, and Barbara. “-that there was no damned way I was ever getting married again.”
“Melissa,” you whisper as you piece together what’s happening.
She just shushes you. “And then Y/N came along and into my life, and she changed everything that I ever thought I knew to be my world. And since she started working at Abbott, I’ve come to fall in love with the best, most loving, funny, ridiculous woman that I’ve ever met. I found someone who embraced every single side of me and has loved me through it all. I- I found the freakin’ miracle that made me change my thoughts on marriage and a forever. So-” Melissa gets down on one knee and pulls the ring box out of her pocket that she’s been holding onto for months. “Marry me? Make me the happiest woman alive by becoming Mrs. Schemmenti?”
The box is opened, and the ring is sitting there as shiny as ever. It’s… it’s beautiful. “Yes,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. You lean down and cup her cheek with one hand to pull her into a warm kiss as she slips the ring on your finger. “Absolutely, yes.”
She stands and raises your hand up in the air as though she was the champion of something (she’d later tell you that she is the champion of your heart- she won the best prize there is). “We’re engaged, bitches!”
No sooner is Kristen Marie walking around with a tray of champagne flutes that each of your guests takes.
Once she drops your hand and interlaces your right hand with her left, you get a glance at the ring. It- That- You’re wearing her beloved Nonna’s ring. You have the Schemmenti family heirloom sitting on your finger.
You go to say something to her in a hushed out whisper, but Kristen Marie shoves a glass of bubbly into your hand, and then Melissa is tapping her glass again.
“I got a couple more things I wanna say,” your now fiancee grins from ear to ear. “I just wanted to say thank you to Barb for helping make sure everyone was here. Thank you to Y/N’s parents for giving me their blessing to marry their daughter. Thank you to Kristen Marie for helping me get the ring- the family heirloom.”
“So it is Nonna’s ring?” you whisper out.
Melissa just nods with a soft smile. She presses a kiss to your temple. “And thank you, to my beautiful fiancee. For putting up with my stubborn ass for this long, and for agreeing to put up with my stubborn ass for as long as God has it planned that we’re on this Earth together.” She raises her glass before taking a sip. Everyone follows suit before breaking out into a chorus of cheers for the two of you.
It’s a bit of time before everyone has settled back into their seats for the meal, your guests all eager to get a look at the dazzling ring on your finger. But then dinner is had, desserts and more drinks are had, and it’s a perfect, perfect night.
You spend the rest of your little house party being flocked around, your friends and family absolutely thrilled that you’re the special woman that finally got to change Melissa’s mind about love.
By the time your last guests begin to file out, you have rosy cheeks from the crisp outdoor air and the champagne that you’ve had. The smile on your face hasn’t gone away though. You can’t believe that you’re actually getting married.
“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom whispers to you as she hugs you tightly. “Now… work on getting me some grandkids?”
“Mom!” you half groan, half whine.
Before you can say anything else though, Melissa has a hand on the small of your back, she’s pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, and she’s telling your mother quietly, “Let us get married first, yeah?”
That simple question to your mother has you raising your eyebrows and looking at your future wife with wide eyes.
The redhead just shrugs before smiling sweetly at you. She then turns her attention back to your parents. “Text us when you get home safe.” She kisses each of their cheeks softly and watches as they walk to their car.
At last, it’s just the two of you together in the comfort of your own home. Before you can even react, Melissa has you pinned up against the door, and she’s kissing you hungrily.
You can’t quite stop the moan that escapes from your lips when you feel wandering hands. “Honey.”
“God, I fuckin’ love my fiancee so much,” she mumbles into your mouth. Then she’s trailing kisses down your jawline and your neck.
It’s safe to say, you don’t get much sleep that night. And throughout all of the escapades, that beautiful rock sits on your finger perfectly.
tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead
#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary fanfic#lisa ann walter#melissa schemmenti fanfiction#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
have you ever tried this one?
dom!sabrina carpenter x sub!fem!reader
warnings: smut, strap, oral, degradation?, mommy kink, hella teasing
a/n - some of you wanted a switch!sabrina and i’m gonna write for her later, but for now just enjoy sucking her strap
inglewood was a nondescript town you always wanted to see. see with your girlfriend, holding hands and entwining your fingers. so when you found out that sabrina will be performing in this town in the future, you jumped up excitedly, throwing your arms around her neck and muttering something like, “you’re the best girlfriend ever!”
but here you are, and the days leading up to her concert were too busy with preparation, for you and sabrina to get out of the hotel to go to a restaurant or just take a leisurely stroll around the city together. all you had now were quick kisses before she had to go on stage again and soft cuddles before a three-hour nap and an empty bed the next morning.
you missed sabrina so much. her kisses on your skin, her hands on your body, her sweet voice when she softly moans your name in your ear, her warmth, your little intimate moments, you missed her all. and most of all, the moments when she took control. damn, you love it.
"come on baby…" no matter how little time you spent together, you were grateful to be with your girlfriend during her tour. you could always see her and catch the air kisses she blew you while her makeup artist worked on her makeup. you loved the moments when in a huge crowd, her eyes were glued to you for a few seconds. just a few seconds, but her mind was definitely constantly around you. you knew that no matter how many people she looked at during each concert, eventually her eyes would return to you. and her hands too. at night.
you swallowed hard when you saw sabrina's smile on the big screen at the beginning of ‘juno’. oh, that smile was just for you. you, like all the thousands of fans next to you, could only guess what pose she would show now and it really made you nervous. you needed her so much that you only had to think about it to get excited.
your vision is blurry as she runs to the edge of the stage. your stomach dropped as she knelt down. your mouth went dry as she made those movements with the microphone. sabrina managed to throw you a quick dirty look before continuing to sing, but fuck, you didn’t hear her anymore. you couldn’t hear anything except the frantic beating of your heart. you just need to kneel in front of her and…
“sabrina…” you have no idea how you ended up in a black tinted audi while her driver was driving you to the hotel. sabrina giggled and drew patterns with her manicured fingers on the inside of your thigh, teasing and tickling your milky skin. you instinctively spread your legs, begging her to go further, but she just adjusts your cute black dress that she picked for you by herself, making your pussy literally cry. her hands are no longer on your body when the driver asks her something related to the show. it was torture. "you're acting like a little slut, it's so sweet"
your breath hitched when she whispered those words in your ear. sabrina had always been such a tease, and you kind of got used to it, but now, when you desperately needed her inside you, there was nothing funny about it. now, when she ran her warm tongue over the pulse point on your neck, you thought you would die because of her. for her. for her pleasure, anything, just to get you alone sooner.
“please, brina don’t play with me…” you whine softly into her ear, praying she’ll stop teasing you while her driver talks to your girlfriend, apparently not even noticing that she’s not listening to him anymore, caught up in you and your desperation for her. she giggles sweetly as her hand goes back between your legs, filling the empty space. “what did you say, princess?”
you open your mouth to answer her, but the only thing that comes out is something between a scream and a moan as she presses her fingers harshly against your clit. your face flushes red as the man in the driver’s seat’s gaze shifts to you. “are you okay, ma’am?”
sabrina looks at you so damn innocently it makes your blood boil. “are you okay, ma’am?” the sweet way she says it, the mocking way, it makes you squeeze her hand between your legs. you feel her rings scratching your skin. your voice didn't sound as confident as you'd like. "y-yeah…"
"good girl… keep quiet" yes, mommy.
“sabrina, please…” you whine as she presses kisses and bites to your neck while her hands explore every inch of your body. she told you to take your panties off, just so you could both see your arousal dripping down your thighs. your hands claw at the wall sabrina had you pinned against. this girl was petite, but you were so weak because of her. the fact that she was still wearing high heels made her tower slightly over you, and it was sexy. “please what, princess?”
her whispers against your skin made tears roll down your cheeks. so desperate, but sabrina just smirked, tearing her mouth away from your neck. she looked into your eyes, tilting her head to the side as if studying every emotion on your face. wasn’t it obvious? "and one more thing, it's not sabrina tonight"
you swallow hard, immediately realizing what she means. thank god you took off your heels, because she would have definitely made you fall to the floor. "please, i need you to fuck me…" you look her straight in the eyes as she chuckles at your words, her thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. “mommy?”
"since you're so polite, princess, how could i refuse you?" sabrina winks at you, walking across the room to grab your favorite thing. you lick your lips as you watch her fasten it to her hips. you realize that you're about to be the one doing the pose sabrina did on the show. fuck.
"on your knees, princess" her pink strap fits perfectly on her body as she sways her hips, making her way to the bed. She sits on the edge, spreading her legs demonstratively. Encouraging you to crawl to her like a good puppy. You literally fall at her feet, holding her perfect hips with your hands.
“that’s my good girl. so obedient, mm?” she ran the tip of the strap over your lips, making you open your mouth in anticipation. you wanted to take it in your mouth, but she stopped you. “where’s your manners, sweet girl?” her voice was soft but serious. god, this girl driving you crazy.
“y-yes, im your obedient girl… please, can i suck it?” you squeeze her hips and give her a puppy look. sabrina smiles, enjoying you. she liked to keep such an obedient little girl a secret only for herself. she gathers your hair into a lazy ponytail, just like she did during the concert, bringing your head closer to her strap. "such a greedy, slutty little thing"
you didn't care what she said anymore as her cock filled your mouth. her hand guided your head and you felt the tip of her strap scrape the back of your throat. sabrina moans like she feels everything you do. your eyes as you look at her, the dirty sounds that come from between you and the silicone in your mouth, it all drives her crazy. both of you.
"that's my good girl…" sabrina grips your hair tighter, causing mild pain. you whine, taking more of her strap into your mouth, proving to her that you're her good girl. your drool drips down your chin as sabrina lets you pull your mouth away from her cock. you breathe heavily, looking somewhere at the floor. your arousal drips down your thighs.
"come here, princess. come on mommy's lap" sabrina helps you up and sits you on her thighs. your pussy touches the soft skin of her thigh and you can't help but start riding her. sabrina presses a kiss to your shoulder and then bites, making you sigh. "please mommy…"
it's going to be a long night.
#sabrina carpenter x you#sabrina carpenter x reader#sabrina carpenter fic#sabrina carpenter#sabrina carpenter x fem!reader#sabrina carpenter smut#sabrina carpenter oneshot#sabrina carpenter fanfiction#sabrina carpenter imagine#wlw
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bubble Baths & Blanket Forts
Noah Sebastian x female reader
No warnings, all fluff
So this idea was inspired by the lovely fluffy messages I had last week, in particular @lma1986 and @collisionsofyourkissmakeitsohard and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are 🖤
I still have a load of requests in my inbox and my own works to try and get through over the next few weeks. It’s been manic in my personal life recently so writing might be a bit slower, we shall see but as always, thank you for your support and patience!
Although I’m thinking a smutty part 2 of this could be needed 👀
Permanent taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls
Permanent taglist is new so if you wish to be added then let me know ☺️
Masterlist
It had been a bad day, a really bad fucking day. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong and you were so fucking done.
You’d been messaging your boyfriend about how shit your day was and how you couldn’t wait to get home and just curl up and forget about the world.
You walked up to the front door of your flat that you shared with Noah and put the keys in the door, thanking whatever god that was listening that you hadn’t dropped the keys because you knew that would be the cherry on top.
You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the most beautiful smell coming from the kitchen.
“Hey babe I’m home”
You threw your keys and bag on the side and hung your coat up, instantly feeling better knowing that you were at home.
You heard Noah’s footsteps coming from the kitchen.
“Hey beautiful”
You looked over and saw his smiling face as he walked over to give you a kiss and cuddle hello. You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him while you buried your face in his chest.
“I’m so glad to see you”
Noah kissed your head and squeezed you into him.
“Yeah you said it was a bad day today, want to talk about it?”
You shook your head.
“No, to be honest, I just want today to be over”
You pulled away and went to walk into the living room but Noah blocked your way and started to lead you down the hallway.
“You don’t need to go in there, I’ve run you a hot bubble bath so you can have a soak before dinner is ready”
You stopped and looked up at him in awe.
“Really?”
He smiled. “Really angel, I’ve just finished setting it up in there so go and relax and I’ll call you when dinner is nearly ready”
You leant up and pulled his collar slightly so he came down to your level for a kiss.
“You’re incredible do you know that?”
Noah had a playful look on his face. “I know, I’m brilliant. Now go get that beautiful backside of yours in the bath”
“Don’t fancy joining me?”
Noah smirked and gave you another peck.
“Not this time baby, tonight is all for you”
You smiled and turned towards the bathroom while Noah headed back off to the kitchen. When you opened the door, the sight nearly brought you to tears.
The whole room was illuminated by candles all around the room and around the bath. You could smell one of your favourite bath bombs coming from the water and you could see the steam still rising. You could hear your favourite music playing softly and folded up on the side was your comfy pyjamas, ready for you to put on after.
You stripped out of your clothes, tied your hair up and walked over to the bath, lifting one leg, you dipped your toes in first to test the temperature which was perfect and then you climbed in and lowered yourself down, not being able to stop the moan falling from your lips as the hot water instantly soothed your tense muscles. You let your body relax under the bubbles and shut your eyes.
You don’t know how long you stayed there for, it felt like an eternity before you were disturbed by a gentle knock on the door and Noah’s face coming into view.
“Hey baby, how are feeling?”
You kept your head rested on the back of the bath. “I feel so much better, thank you”
Noah smiled and grabbed a big fluffy towel and held it open to you.
“I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to come out now as dinner is nearly ready”
You nodded and reached down to pull the plug to let the water drain before you stood up, the bubbles clinging to your body.
Noah stepped forward and wrapped the soft around your body before he helped you step out.
“What’s for dinner by the way? I forgot to ask”
“Your favourite”
Your eyes lit up as you looked up at him.
“Steak?”
“Yes with all your favourites. Get yourself into your comfies and then meet me at the table”
You nodded, the smile not leaving your face, how could one man be so perfect.
You dried yourself off and got dressed, your body feeling so refreshed after such a bad day.
After making sure you blew out all the candles in the bathroom, you walked down the hallway and into the kitchen/dining area where you had the table set up.
All ready on the table was your dinner, which smelt absolutely divine and the table was set up with more candles and fresh red roses in a vase in the centre.
You honestly thought you could cry, Noah had thought of everything.
“I can’t believe you’ve done all of this”
Noah walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.
“You said you had a bad day angel, I just wanted to make it better for you”
You leaned back into him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms.
“It’s incredible babe, thank you”
You feel him press a kiss into your hair and then he leads you over to the table, pulling your chair out for you and making sure you were comfortable.
The food was incredible, you both ate in a comfortable silence with the odd conversation here or there but mostly you were just enjoying sitting down together.
Once dinner was over and your food was settling, Noah cleared the plates away and came back over to you.
“I have one more surprise for you”
You looked up at Noah with a bemused smile “What? But you’ve done so much already!”
Noah gave you his million dollar smile and took your hand in his.
“I’ve saved the best until last”
Noah walked you down the hall and stood outside the living room door, now realising that he’d been stopping you from entering all night.
“Ok, close your eyes baby”
You smiled and shut your eyes. You heard him open the door before you felt his hands gently cover your face as he walked you into the room.
“Ready?”
You nodded my head, the anticipation running through your body as you heard him whisper “open” into your ear and he released his hands.
You opened my eyes and the breath was caught in your throat.
Noah had built a huge blanket fort around the room. Blankets all of sizes were tied to each other and hung up high to create a tent like den in the middle of the room and you could see fairy lights hung around the entrance.
“Oh my god Noah! You built this?”
Noah blushed and nodded.
“Yeah, I remember you said once that you used to build these all the time as a kid and loved hanging out in them, so I thought I’d bring that back for you”
A tear rolled down your cheek as you took it all in.
“Can we go inside?”
Noah laughed and wiped the tear away.
“Of course we can angel, this is all for you, we can shut the rest of the world out in our fort, no problems allowed in”
You laughed and hugged him tight, feeling his arms pull you closer to him.
“You’re perfect Noah, you really are”
You grabbed his hand and went over towards the entrance, Noah lifted up the small blanket that he’d used as the ‘doorway’ and you saw inside that he’d used even more blankets and loads of pillows to cover the floor and he’d even hung fairy lights inside to give a beautiful glow and made it all warm and cosy.
You crawled in, feeling Noah right behind you. You could just about sit up inside, Noah definitely struggling more due to his height so you lied yourself back amongst the pillows and curled yourself up into Noah’s arms.
“This is the best night ever”
Noah smiled down at you, you felt him absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair or over your back.
“I’m glad you like it angel, I hope I’ve made your shitty day better”
You lean up and press your lips to his.
“What shitty day?”
His smile matched your own as you both got comfortable, getting lost in the conversation and feeling safe within each other’s arms, knowing that nothing could prenatal your very own little fortress.
#noah sebastian#bad omens#bad omens band#bad omens cult#noah sebastian davis#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian drabble#noah sebastian fic#noah bad omens#noah sebastian imagine#concreteangel92
114 notes
·
View notes