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sorcerersseestars · 11 months

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synopsis: Gojo blames you for the first-years' disaster that the higher-ups caused.

pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn! reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff

warnings: mention of death/a corpse, yelling, heavy feelings of self-blame, stuttering (it makes sense here tho I promise), emotionally constipated Gojo, mention of not eating for an extended period of time/being hungry (due to the situation), manga spoilers!! (star plasma vessel arc), indirect confessions

word count: 5.2k

notes: There are some slightly non-canon details. I’m pretty sure that Nanami and Yuji don’t know each other at this point, but let’s pretend they do. Also, I’m insinuating a more seasoned bond between Gojo and Yuji/reader and Yuji - let’s also pretend that they’ve been teaching Yuji for longer at this point, for more angst potential. :) LAST THING - you used to be a very mediocre child/adolescent actor in a few small/bad films. Only relevant for one detail.

Also, Gojo may be a bit ooc here - possibly overdramatic in his wordings - but I really wanted to write a Gojo that loses control of his emotions, since I think it'd be difficult to elicit such a reaction from him. I hope it suits him okay!!

GOJO HAS ALWAYS had a soft spot for you. In high school, he would regularly volunteer himself to take your blame, even though you never asked him to do it and would practically begged him not to. But, he was frustratingly persistent and would do it despite your many protests. If you ever cheated on an assignment, Gojo would claim he copied yours. If you fumbled during a mission, Gojo would lie in the report. If you both snuck out and got caught, Gojo would say he dragged you out with force. Whenever you would have an argument with someone, Gojo would comfort you afterwards, insisting the other person was in the wrong even when they obviously weren’t.

Although he has eventually ramped down this ridiculous treatment over the years, you will never forget this boyish idiosyncrasy from your younger days.

Today, however, it’s like those days never even existed. You don't recognize the person standing in front of you. You can’t blame him for his reaction – it's wholly natural – but it still jars you.

Today, you fucked up. You fucked up so badly that there's a very permanent, unchangeable consequence to your actions – or rather, your lack thereof. The consequence of your stupidity, the result of your thoughtlessness, lies unmoving in this room. The body of Itadori Yuji, separated from reality only by the thin plastic covering of a body bag, rests on a table only feet from where you stand.

His mentor, one sworn to protecting his students, sworn to delaying his impending execution as much as possible, stands before you. His signature blindfold obscures his eyes, and you can only imagine the wild, swirling gaze you would be faced with in its absence.

Yuji’s mentor – your long time close friend, who has never blamed you in any great capacity for anything through the entirety of your friendship – now looks at you scathingly.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He spits, tone icy.

He's not looking at you as he rigidly hovers over the operating table, but you can feel the intensity of his emotions despite the distance. Words fall out of your brain, and you struggle to string together a cohesive thought.

“I-" You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “The higher-ups told me not to go with them, I don’t know wh–"

He barks out a harsh laugh, cutting off your pathetic excuse. His head is in his hands, fingers roughly carding through his disheveled hair. He pauses in his ministrations to face you: he is suddenly towering over you, broad frame filling even the corners of your vision.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He growls. “Did you stop to think for even a second? Why would they ever ask a teacher to stay behind?”

Tears begin to slide down you cheeks. You quickly wipe them away and will your building urge to break down to go away.

He sighs, his breath leaving him loudly and aggressively. “I don’t understand how this happened. You know how this works, (Y/N)! You know how the higher-ups are!”

“I’m sorry,” You choke out quietly, voice stretched and thin. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring him back, (Y/N)!” Gojo shouts.

Shoko and Ijichi are silent. Shoko is looking at the ground, her stony expression difficult to determine. Shoko, your friend who always sticks up for you no matter what, especially when dealing with Gojo. Shoko, who hasn’t spoken a single word to you since you arrived. For once, she agrees with him.

Your eyes land on the black body bag laying on the operating table, and you can’t hold it back any longer. Your legs weaken underneath you and you begin to shake. The sobs you’ve been suppressing rip out of your throat. Ugly, choking sobs.

Nobody moves to comfort you. If anything, Gojo’s scowl deepens, and Shoko turns away at your display of emotion.

“I know,” You sob. “I know it doesn’t. I know it's my fault.”

You take a few shaky breaths. “I didn’t know- I didn’t mean for it to happen- I- it’s my fault.”

He slides his blindfold down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. You are about to blurt something else out, but before the words can leave your tongue, you catch his gaze and you’re immediately frozen. His boiling blue irises steal your breath and leave you rooted to the spot. Never in your life have you seen him this angry or even display this much emotion.

“If you keep standing there and crying, I think I’m going to kill something,” He says lowly.

“Gojo,” Shoko interjects in a warning tone.

Gojo bites back, “Why not? We all want the higher-ups gone. It’d be so easy. Shit like this wouldn’t happen anymore.”

Ijichi pales. Shoko roughly says, “Are you crazy?”

He doesn’t answer, and the determined look on his face isn’t necessarily comforting. It seems a storm is brewing – the most powerful sorcerer is being driven to a point.

You’re reaching a point, too – your breaking point. You feel like you can’t breathe. When you inhale, your lungs refuse to inflate past the shallowest of breaths. It’s all hitting you now, clear thoughts rising past the fog of adrenaline that overwhelmed your mind. The reality is that you fucked up, and it’s not fixable.

You fucked up, and there’s no going back in time to change your decision, to go against orders to stay with your students. There’s no way to bring Yuji back.

“Why are you still here?” Gojo says with an exasperated huff, addressing you directly. “Seeing you only adds to my anger.”

You say nothing, your mind occupied only with your regrets. He frowns and tries again.

"Unless you want to dive further into this preventable death," He says coldly. "Leave. There's still a job to be done.”

You barely hear his words. Your brain doesn’t have the energy to collect them, to interpret them, as it hyper-fixates on the horrible hole forming in your heart. Your eyes are wide, pupils enlarged, and you are visibly quivering.

“Didn’t you hear me? You need to leave!” Gojo growls, frustrated at your lack of reaction, believing it to be indifference.

“They must be in shock, Gojo,” Shoko murmurs. “They’re shutting down.”

Shoko’s diagnosis is indeed correct. You don’t hear a single word that comes out of their mouths; your shoulders and heart have grown heavy, leaden, from knowing the fate you led your students to. One deceased, two severely injured. All because of a risk you did not take, an order you did not disobey.

Yuji’s bright smile burns into the back of your eyes, a reminder of what you’ve lost, of the ultimate mistake.

One second, your eyes are on the black body bag, and the next second you can’t see anything, your vision blurred by tears and by speed. You’re running, you realize, legs pumping as fast as they can. Your lungs ache and your legs cramp up, but you can’t will yourself to stop. You can’t think. You can’t catch your breath.

When you inevitably collapse, you don’t know where you are or how much time has passed. It’s just a patch of grass damp with dew, a few maple trees dotting the banks of a small neighboring stream. You’re laying under one of these trees, your arms outstretched so your fingers can comb through the cool, wet blades of grass. You’re vaguely aware the the sun set at some point after you left. Maybe it’s been a hour, or a few more. You have no idea.

You want to scream, you want to cry, but you don’t. You can’t; it won’t come. When his grinning face and determined smile taunt you, reminding you of your sins, you can only screw your eyes shut, willing the torture to end.

Wetness finally runs down your face, and you taste salt. It is oddly comforting. Your hands repeatedly grab the gentle grass, numbing your mind until exhaustion eventually overtakes you.

There’s a buzzing filling your brain. You groan and roll over, reaching out to your bedside table to grab the offending object. You startle at the feeling of sharp gravel under your fingertips – it’s unpleasantly damp, as well, leaving muddy residue on your hands.

The buzzing starts again, and this time you clearly feel the vibrations through your leg. You sit up, scooting back until your back firmly hits the tree trunk behind you, and force your tired eyelids to part. You have to squint, as the sun has already risen and has crossed the sky a fair amount – it must be approaching noon already.

When the buzzing persists, you grumpily rip the phone out of your pocket. It’s not an alarm, as you had expected. In fact, you startle at the caller ID: Gojo Satoru.

You stare at your phone blankly, your brain buffering. You ultimately let it ring out, although your finger hovers over the answer button. Once the screen fades to your usual background, your throat goes dry. Missed calls from Shoko, Nanami, and Gojo fill your screen. You quickly skim the accompanying texts and wince.

Shoko <3: I know we’re all upset, but we shouldn’t have taken it out on you…just let me know you’re alright, okay? (10:43 pm)

‘Nanamin’: I heard what happened. It isn’t your fault, (Y/N), no matter what anyone says. Call me if you need anything. (6:26 am)

Satoru: Where are you? (11:34 pm)

Satoru: Pick up (11:59 pm)

Satoru: please (12:03 am)

Satoru: I fucked up. I need to talk to you, please let me (12:05 am)

Satoru: I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but let someone, anyone, know you’re alright… (7:12 am)

Satoru: Megumi just told me he tried to visit you but you still weren’t home. (Y/N), please…say anything…I need to know that you’re okay (11:17 am)

It all rushes back to you: your lethal mistake, the deserved reaction you received from your two best friends, how you shamefully ran away. Fuck. There’s no way you can face any of them, especially not Megumi.

You wish this never happened. Hot tears burn your cheeks again; your eyes flood with regret. Shame quickly floods through you, making you feel hot all over. How can you feel sorry for yourself when it was your fault in the first place?

You roughly wipe your face with your sleeve and stick your phone back into your pocket. There’s no way you can respond right now. It’s bound to die soon, anyway, so there’s no point in trying.

You don’t want to move from where you sit. You want to sink into the ground and stay there until the horrible feeling inside you goes away. But…

“What if it doesn’t?” You whisper those words out into the universe, a sinking feeling in your gut telling you the answer.

You want to cry more, allow yourself to shed more tears, but you don’t. You wobbly stand up, and are surprised at how weak you are. When was the last time you ate – yesterday morning, before the disastrous mission?

You have to go home. You can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere, neglecting yourself. It’s a thought that rings in your head and won’t leave you alone until you decide to listen. Okay. You will go home. You can manage that.

It takes a while, but you find your way back to your apartment. Last night, you had apparently meandered into an expanse of empty land neighboring the school, as you pass by Jujutsu Tech on your way back. It is a bit off the beaten path – you doubt anyone has ever intentionally gone where you ended up last night.

During your journey home, you have to reference your Google Maps app a few times, but you somehow successfully get back home, despite your directional challenges and weakened state.

Until you step into your apartment, you don’t realize how cold you are. Your feet are numb from being cold and wet, your toes icy when you peel the damp socks off. You cringe at how unaware you have been at your body for the past 24 hours: your mental state ignored all physical needs.

Your stumble to your bedroom, aching body screaming for a rest. You relent easily, collapsing on your bed face first. You’re so grimy and covered in remnants of the dirt bed you laid in last night, evidence of your outside stay covering your clothing. Bits of twigs and leaves invite themselves into your sheets – you couldn’t care less right now, though. You don’t even think about it.

On instinct, you plug your dead phone in without even looking. There’s silence for a minute or two before it whirs back to life, the screen flashing at your tired eyes.

There’s another message waiting to be opened.

Megumi: Come back soon, sensei. He’s getting unsufferable

Megumi:…more than usual

A hoarse chuckle leaves your throat, the first laugh that’s left you since the whole incident. You sigh immediately after though, as you begin to wonder how Megumi has been dealing with everything. If you hadn’t run away, then…

Your head is in your hands again. No matter what path your thinking strays down, you keep returning to your immense guilt over what happened.

You wish you were mad at someone. You wish that you felt angry at Gojo, but you aren’t – you can’t be. In your eyes, he wasn’t wrong; how could you be mad at him when you agree?

You’re not mad, but there’s this other unpleasant feeling. It feels like one of Nobara’s nails has been lodged in your chest, and every time you think about his reaction, the nail twists a little deeper into your heart. He’s never yelled at you before. That hurt.

It’s understandable, but it still hurts.

Gojo…You don’t think you can face him yet, but he may come to you if your radio silence continues. Maybe you should just get it over with and call him. You can just tell him you’re alive and hang up. That should suffice.

Without thinking further on it, you grab your phone and dial his number. Within two rings, the line connects.

“Yo, (Y/N)! Long time no hear!” His chirpy voice booms through your speakers. He’s back to his usual self – overly casual and full of mirth. He sounds way too cheerful; it throws you off guard.

A sharp inhale leaves you as you’re about to tell him that you’re fine and to not worry, so that you can hang up and avoid him. But, nothing comes out. Everything you thought of saying flies out of your brain. You’re left wordless, mouth hanging open.

“You there? (Y/N)?”

You shake your head, coming to your senses.

“Yes,” The single word that leaves you is weak and breathy.

“You good? Are you home now?”

“Yeah. Home now. I’m alive, so no need to bother checking in on me,” You say thoughtlessly.

God, that was lame. You can’t help but cringe at what you just said. It’s what you intended to convey, yes, but that’s not how you wanted to say it.

“Just alive? Sounds real peppy over there!” He chuckles. “I was going to come over anyway, but you’ve really pushed it over the edge.”

“Ah,” You say somewhat panicked, searching for a way out of this. “There’s really no need. I just need rest so there’s no need. I’ll see you later, then.”

“You mean soon!” He chirps before you can hang up. You groan into your pillow; this is exactly what you had been trying to avoid. How are you even going to look at him?

You’ve just put your phone back on your nightstand when there’s sudden footsteps approaching your bedroom. Before you can think further, the door is flung upon and a familiar figure appears before you.

“Ultimate best friend Gojo Satoru has arrived! Everyone applaud!”

A series of small claps ensues, while you just stare on in silence and disgruntlement. A wide smile stretches across his face at your displeased expression.

“C’mon angel, not even a single clap? That’s cold.”

You roll your eyes, but only half-heartedly. The gesture is so pathetically slight that Gojo’s smile falls a fraction. You don’t have much emotional energy to expend on humoring him, it seems. Because of him.

It’s then that he fully takes in your appearance. Tear stained cheeks, dirt caking your clothes and body, scraps of organic material matted in your hair and clinging to all parts of you. There’s even smudges of dirt around your eyes where you’ve attempted to wipe away tears.

He questions your appearance, trying to appear lighthearted, “Was the forest calling you? You really didn’t sleep here?”

You immediately feel self-conscious of your appearance and cross your arms. You manage out a quiet, “Something like that.”

“No, seriously…where did you sleep?” He probes, this time lacking the lightheaded tone.

A weak, sheepish smile appears on your lips, “Ah…the ground? You were right, I guess.”

He blinks. You rub the back of your head and avoid eye contact, softly laughing an awkward little chuckle.

“Seriously?” He asks, but it lacks any judgment. He is truly just in disbelief.

You just nod.

“Hey, are you…are you sure you’re okay?”

You weren’t expecting that. You wish he would stay in his childish mindset – these real questions are worse.

You breathe out slowly, “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s not a very convincing delivery, but it was the best you could manage. The corners of his lips turn down slightly, almost unnoticeably, but he doesn’t comment on your answer. He knows he should question you further, dig a little deeper, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he excuses himself, “I’ll be right back. Just stay put! I’ll know if you move, so you better not move an inch.”

He raises two fingers to his eyes, then directs them to you, clearly saying ‘I have my eyes on you!’

It’s amusing - he’s always amusing - but when you try to smile, your lips just flatline. You can’t tell if he notices, since he has already turned away and walked into the bathroom, but you hope he couldn’t tell.

When he returns, he’s holding a dampened washcloth.

“Bath time!” He says, shaking the cloth excitedly in front of you. You flinch a little as a few stray drops of water unexpectedly land on you, which he lightly laughs at.

And then he begins swiping away the dirt that has accumulated on your body. He starts with your face. He’s on his knees, one elbow resting on the space neighboring your right thigh, leaning in to have more control with the cloth. You close your eyes when his face comes within inches of yours - too close. Even when you feel as horrible as you do now, your heart won’t stop thumping quickly against your ribs, as if it cannot deny those deeply hidden feelings you harbor.

He hums while he works, gently dabbing all the places where you have visible dirt. It’s comforting, or at least it should be. You heart begins to clench tightly, and you so badly want a hole to appear in the ground to swallow you up.

“Gojo, why are you being so nice now?” You ask, voice small. “I don’t really deserve it. I’d…prefer the alternative. This feels wrong right now.”

He sets down the cloth, wincing at your pitiful words. Is that how you really feel?

He pauses. He’s not good at this sort of thing – acknowledging other people’s vulnerability, lowering his own walls to empathize with others, any of it. He hates it. He hates how emotionally he acted yesterday, he hates how it has affected you.

“No,” He sighs. He speaks slowly as he carefully chooses his words, “I…shouldn’t have acted like that yesterday. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Your bottom lip trembles, but you force yourself not to cry, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for it. Everyone was thinking it.”

He tries to catch your eye, but your gaze is downcast. He ducks, lowering himself to the ground even more, to enter your field of vision.

“Hey,” He says softly. “Do you trust me?”

Your brow furrows; you don’t understand why he’s asking you that. You feel yourself nodding, though.

“Everything I said yesterday,” He starts, but then shakes his head at himself. “No, everything I yelled at you yesterday – it was misdirected. What happened wasn’t your fault. There was no way of knowing what was about to happen.”

“But now, it’s obvious,” You mumble. “I should have known.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You were following orders. The ones assigning the orders are at fault, not you.”

You grab your sheets with tight fists. You turn your head to the side, away from his invisible gaze, “Orders that were obviously suspect. It’s still my fault as an experienced sorcerer.”

Gojo’s chest constricts. You sound exactly like he did yesterday; the consequences of his actions echo back to him from your mouth.

“I promise it’s not,” He insists, but it falls on deaf ears. “I’ve made mistakes too. I’ve made mistakes, but you never treated me like I treated you yesterday.”

Gojo clenches his teeth. This is hard. He hates bringing up this side of the past, but he’ll do it for you.

“You never judged me for what happened during the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Even though you wanted to leave that night, and I ignored you, you never blamed me.”

“You were seventeen,” You say quietly, shakily. “We were all kids. That was over a decade ago.”

“But you knew how to make it better,” He says breathlessly. “And you never even once insinuated that it was my fault.”

You smile sadly at him, and your next words are sure and immediate, “Because it wasn’t.”

Gojo’s mouth hangs open for a second, still amazed at the understanding and kindness that so easily shine through you even in the darkest moments.

He reaches out for your hands, unsure, and squeezes them when he finds them. “Can I…can I start over ? From yesterday?”

You blink blankly, not completely understanding, but give a hesitant nod anyway.

He exhales deeply and lowers his head to your hands until his forehead brushes your fingertips. It’s completely unexpected, and you freeze upon contact. His head is bowed to you – embarrassment and confusion flood you.

You are relieved when he raises his head to speak.

“What happened with our students isn’t your fault,” He says quietly but with conviction. “It’s the work of the higher ups - it’s their fault, nobody else’s. I’m…”

He pauses. Words he never says need to come out.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this happened while you were here and I was away, I’m sorry that I blamed you for things out of your control. This was never your fault.”

You are silent. You say nothing. You don’t move. Your expression stays blank.

He panics. He takes your silence as a sign of not being forgiven – which is not what he fears, in fact he doesn’t want to be forgiven. But he doesn’t want to lose you, and that’s exactly what he thinks has happened. Did he completely sever the bond spanning more than a decade?

“I understand if you can’t forgive me, but,” He swallows thickly, the anxious feeling rising. “But I hope this doesn’t…”

He tries again, “I hope our friendship…I hope you- I don’t want to lose you after all we-”

“Satoru – it’s not that,” You say quickly. “You haven’t, I promise. I have already forgiven you. I forgave you from the moment it started.”

You close your eyes, clenching them shut. You don’t want to cry again. “It’s just that…even if I’m not directly at fault, Yuji is still dead. Our student is dead. Despite anything that can be said of the situation, that fact will not change.”

He really shouldn’t tell you this. He needs to, but he shouldn’t.

“Do you trust me?” He says again, voice only a whisper. He’s even closer now, only inches away. A hand raises to ease his blindfold down so that it rests loosely around his neck.

Your eyes on his are so clear, and reveal so much – surprised by his bare gaze, confusion clear in your beautiful eyes he finally can see so clearly up close.

“Of course,” You whisper breathlessly. “Always have.”

“Close your eyes, and hold on,” He says. “Don’t want you getting lost again, angel.”

You know what that means. Teleportation. But where could he be taking you that is so important right now? Maybe somewhere he knows you like to calm you down?

You’re taken aback by the rush of air around you even though you’ve traveled like this many times.

The few uncomfortable moments in the strange vortex allow you to question where be could be possibly be taking you. Before you can decide on an answer, however, the roar in your ears subsides, and you are steadied by his grip around your shoulders. He's so close again, wisps of his soft hair tickling your neck. One of his large hands drops down to clutch yours. You’re ashamed about now nice it all feels in such a situation.

Then all that slips away and you're immediately on guard - there's another cursed presence nearby.

“Gojo-sensei, you’re back? That movie was kind of weird and bad, but I swear that one character was (L/N)-sensei. Do they have a twin or something?”

Your eyes pop open. Your hand falls out of Gojo’s as your grip completely goes slack. That voice…Youthful, full of energy and a kind innocence. It could only be...

Gojo responds ecstatically, dramatically, “Ah, but of course not! I have brought an honored guest! An old time Hollywood star whose home was the red carpet! The famed, the budding talent, (Y/N)-”

He’s cut off by a shriek. He blinks twice, and you’re already far from his side, rushing to the secret he has to keep - the secret he couldn’t possibly keep from you.

You crash into Yuji, binding him in a crushing hug. He's open mouthed and spluttering in surprise, but you don't have it in you to be embarrassed right now. You have no idea how, but he is standing before you, living and breathing. As seemingly endless tears pour down your face, you miss now the confusion on his face morphs into a look of grim understanding. He doesn't know what you went through, but he can guess.

And then you're laughing. Crying and laughing. Heaving breaths to accommodate your almost hysterical laughter, standing back to wipe away your tears before hugging Yuji again.

The sight of you hugging your student so tightly, healing with just this action, coaxes a half smile out of Gojo. Only half because he is in danger of faltering himself, bottom lip wavering as a wave of emotion flows over him.

The abandoned blindfold is clenched tightly in his hand as he tries to hold back the emotions welling in his brilliant eyes. He almost wants to put it back on to hide the emotions underneath, but he can’t, not when the whole reason he took it off was to see this with his own eyes.

No words are exchanged for a long while. They don't need to be, and even Gojo can see that.

By the time he is taking you home, your dynamic has shifted back to something more normal. It's raining, but you insist on walking back, citing the fact that his teleportation makes you horribly dizzy. (Or maybe, just maybe, you want a little more time with him. But you'd never admit that to yourself.)

The constant overhead drizzle is a bit annoying, but is bearable despite Gojo's claims of it tainting his very existence. He’s clearly back to his overdramatics - it's comforting.

The streets are dark, with only muted warm yellow lights lining the sidewalks, creating only vague halos of light due to the misty air. Gojo walks close to your side, an arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders. At some point through your chatting, it slips down to your waist. You don't notice it right away, but once you do, all you can do is wonder if he's done that before - if it's normal for friends.

You notice something else strange. His blindfold is still loosely hanging from his body, his baby blues on display. It's hard to look at him like this - you feel too exposed - even though you desperately want to get lost in his eyes. Yes, your deep affection for him still rings true, even if he yelled at you, even if he did expose your horrible, cringey child acting.

“I can’t believe you put on that movie!” You exclaim, miming exasperation.

Gojo chuckles, “Scolding me again, that’s a good sign. Even if it’s for an illogical reason – c’mon, ‘Painters in Paris’ is a classic!”

You can’t hold back your wide, devious smile, “I guess you would think that since you literally look like a fucking paint brush!”

His jaw drops, and he looks at you faux-offended as you practically double over in laughter.

“Angel! No, I really should be calling you devil! You- get over here!”

Although you run from him, he quickly catches up to you and you’re in his grasp. He immediately overwhelms you with vicious tickles.

“Gojo!! Satoru, you– stop that!” You say between bouts of laughter. You’re off balance, and his relentless attack isn’t helping. “Hey, stop, I’m gonna–!”

You stumble and begin to topple to the cold cement, but you’re scooped up before you meet your demise.

A small gasp escapes you at your proximity, and at his eyes so clearly looking deeply into yours, yearning burning through them. He's never looked at you like this - has he?

“Woah! That was close, huh, angel?” He smiles, tone nonchalant and voice steady. He seems unaffected by your closeness, but his eyes tell a different story. You don't know what to trust - him or his eyes. But they say that the eyes are the windows into the soul – what answer does that leave you with?

And what answer do you have? Right now, with his strong arms around you, those beautiful eyes glittering as if they hold a sea of stars, that sweet smile that never fails to give you butterflies, those lips you can’t help but glance at for too long–

You know.

Without thinking, you give in to your instinct to keep leaning in, and your lips meet his. It's not a passionate crash, but more of a gentle whisper to the soul. A soft brush to his lips, all the sweetness he brings to you returned.

Then, you pull away slowly, almost in confusion. Did you just do that?

You’re horrified. What did you just do without a single thought behind your action?

A gentle chuckle brings you out of your momentary horror.

“So what, you’re a paint brush kisser now?” He chuckles softly, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip.

You take in his expression - flushed cheeks, a soft smile, eyes full of a softness you've never imagined they could have.

"Yes,” You agree, your mouth stretching widely from the excitement and happiness you can’t hold back, “ l proudly am.”

He pulls you closer and kisses you deeply, again and again and again until you're both out of breath. You both stay in that moment, feelings that lay hidden for years finally spilling out, until you're completely engulfed by the rain.

note part 2: I have a tendency to be over-detailed about boring/fluff details, so I tried to do that less here. First one shot in a while !! I hope the flow is still okay…I also couldn't decide how to do the ending, so l hope this works?

Also wow I can’t stop writing hurt/comfort and Gojo being an ass! I have another story drafted that’s also Gojo x reader and hurt/comfort as well…

Here’s a hint about that one: 🌸🩸

If you’re looking for more hurt/comfort, here’s my gojo hurt/comfort series: here (more action-y than this though)

Thanks for reading !! :)

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru is a little shit #jjk #ieiri shoko #gojo fanfic #yuji itadori #gojo satoru is emotionally constipated #gojo x reader #gender neutral mc #gojo satoru x you

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katiexpunk · 5 months

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The Art of Noticing | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness. That was until it almost got you killed. And Joel Miller hates you for it. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.1K Warnings: This one is full on corn with plot; plus lots of emotions. No specific age gap mentioned. References to loss, grief, death and sadness. Reader almost gets her throat slit, until Joel saves the day. I mean, canon-typical violence. Joel is an asshole in the beginning. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Lots of hatred towards a bird lol. Lots of film/photography references. Ellie is a gem, as per usual. Size kink. Reference to a gun/knife. Alcohol. Use of pet names (darlin', baby, good girl, sweetheart, etc.). Unprotected P in V. Oral (M and F receiving). There's a titty fuck. Grinding/dry humping. Fingering. Nipple play. There are no physical descriptions of the reader except that she has hair long enough to whip over her shoulder. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: This one has been in my WIPs for months. It started off as an entirely different story, but after going through and re-reading what I originally wrote, I hated it. I have all the feels about this one. Special thank you to @sydneyinacoma for being my emotional sexy support blanket and holding my balls on this one, as per usual. And to @papipascalispunk for originally editing the first version of this story, although it looks totally different now. Iris, you're a gem. Thanks for believing in me even before I did. I hope I make you proud with this one. Masterlist | Read on AO3

Tumbling at the edge Of disaster, This is how I lived. Oh see how the chrysanthemums Are dry now, Yet still beautiful. ~ Noelle Kocot

In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Your mother had always told you there was beauty in capturing the poetry in the often-ignored details, and she made sure you were given the tools you needed to do so. She was kind like that. Sometimes it's as if her presence still lingers vividly in your viewfinder, her radiant smile eternally illuminating your memories.

Your film helps you to hold on to the details that no one else is around to remember anymore, details you might one day forget; details like the color of your best friend's eyes, the warm hue of orange of your grandfather’s favorite recliner, and even the nearly lime green color of the fresh green tomatoes from your garden.

In a place where the larger story has faded, you still revel in the tiny tales—the vines reclaiming forgotten streets, sunlight gently embracing relics of the past, and the murmurs of tales etched into the decay. You think about the scratches carved into the dining room table of your childhood home and often wish you could once again find your seat around it.

But that reality is gone.

No longer is the girl who liked to swim or play with dolls. No longer is the girl who fought with her sister for stealing clothes from her closet, or her brother for hitting too hard.

Like many others, she’s gone. They’re gone.

She was whisked away to make room for the woman you are today; the person you’ve had to become to survive.

Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness.

That was until it almost got you killed.

And Joel Miller hates you for it.

++++

Months after your patrol that went wrong, you bump into Joel outside the Tipsy Bison, giving him a cursory glance before turning around.

The idea of saying sorry crosses your mind, but for whatever reason, you don't. Your kindness, once a vibrant tapestry, is now a threadbare token. Besides, it’s his fault. He shouldn’t have been standing so close to the doorway. If anything, he should be apologizing to you.

You’re in a rather grumpy mood this evening, having wasted the last of your film only to overexpose the prints earlier in the day. Every single one – ruined. Sure, before the outbreak, this might not have bothered you as much, but now, finding film is like striking gold, and your stash is dwindling at an alarming rate. The frustration hangs over your head like a cloudy day. All you want to do is go home and sulk – forget about the mistake – at least if you were at home crying over your photographs, you wouldn’t be subject to prying eyes.

“Watch it,” Joel says, voice low and even, a sharp hint of annoyance behind his tone.

You stop in your tracks. You know you should walk away from this. But your temper is already on edge, sensitivity on hyperdrive, and something about the sneer of Joel’s voice gets under your skin. You spin around in a huff and toss your hair with annoyance. “Maybe next time don’t block the door,” you bark.

Joel retorts, red-hot at your audacity. “‘Scuse me? Wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?

The pet name is patronizing; you’re a real stick in his craw.

"You heard me," you snap back, punctuating your annoyance by crossing your arms over one another across your chest.

Joel turns around and takes a large stride toward you, closing the gap between your bodies so he’s nearly chest-to-chest with yours, his imposing figure towering over you, and his eyes narrow. “What’s got your panties in a twist tonight, hmm?” Joel asks, voice dripping with sarcasm and void of any genuine concern.

“You” you say, “you’re always so fucki–” before you can continue your sentence, Joel stops you by placing his large index finger onto your lips to hush you. "You've got one helluva smart mouth, darlin’," he says, voice low, almost menacing.

You freeze, looking up at him unsure of what to say as he brings his face inches from yours, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath. The flecks of amber that dance around the edges of his irises catch your attention. As you swallow, your eyes momentarily flicker down to the thin line of his lips. Abruptly, he withdraws his hand, leaving an echo of intensity lingering in the suspended moment.

He isn’t particularly nice, but you have to admit, he is fucking hot. Since his arrival in town, he's been a magnetic force, his somber aura unmistakable to even the most casual of onlookers. A silhouette of brooding intensity, with shoulders that carve the space around him and biceps that speak of strength. His voice, a rasp in the wind, adds another layer to his already large presence.

“I’ve been told,” you pause. “Just – just get out of my way,” you say firmly, walking away as your shoulders brush against him.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" you scoff in your best imitation of his voice. You exhale sharply, fully aware of the true reason behind the agitation. You haven’t been fucked in years, and the heat that Joel stirs low in your belly is an incredibly frustrating feeling, knowing you’ll never get to do anything about it.

God damn infuriating man.

++++

As you lay in bed that night, you can't help but replay your encounters with Joel, the scenes repeat like an annoying commercial that won't leave your mind. Memories of your patrol with him keep playing on a loop, embedding themselves in your thoughts, refusing to fade away in the darkness of the night. "You could’a been killed," Joel's words still ring in your ears, the weight of his tone and the intensity in his eyes seared into your memory. You remember the sounds – the bone-crushing crunch and the grim, wet thud as Joel swiftly dealt with the raider who tried to slit your throat for your backpack, all while you were innocently looking through the lens of your camera, attempting to take a picture of a bird on a tree branch.

“I told you to follow my instructions, to listen, and you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” he said, trying to get you to see his point of view. Of course, you’ve apologized. Profusely, even, but it falls on deaf ears.

Ever since that moment, Joel hasn’t looked at you the same. You're certain all he sees is a stupid little girl, unable to protect herself. Nothing but a burden. Dead weight on his already sore shoulders.

Just go to sleep and forget about it, forget about him, you think to yourself, stirring in the scratchy fabric of your sheets.

As you drift off, you wonder what the bird saw that day.

++++

With a grunt, Joel manages to kick off his boots in the entryway, and they land with a loud thud against the floor. The worn wooden stairs creak beneath his weight as he ascends the steps, the dim hallway leading to Ellie's room. Pushing the door ajar, he finds her peacefully asleep. A small smile tugs at his lips, grateful to see her warm and safe.

Retreating to his room, Joel sheds the remnants of the day – his jacket, the weight of exhaustion, and the lingering sensation of your soft lips under his finger. As he settles into bed, the worn mattress groaning beneath him, he remembers the sound of your sweet voice; your puffy, teary eyes looking up at him as you apologized; and the sticky feeling of the blood on his hands from the man who tried to hurt you.

He wishes he would have pulled you close; and held you in the safe embrace of his arms.

He’ll never admit it, but he forgave you almost immediately, and it terrifies him more than anything in this new world ever could.

He’s already lost so much, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Surely it’s easier to hate you, rather than admit the truth, rather than lose you.

“Fuckin’ bird,” he mumbles before drifting off to sleep.

++++

"Come on, you've gotta be there! It's gonna be a total snooze without you," Ellie pleads, practically begging you to join her at the annual community holiday gathering.

Whereas Joel mostly acts like a grade-A jerk, Ellie is like a breath of fresh air. From the moment you met her, you’ve had a connection – you taught her the ropes of film exposure, and she's good company in a world where friends are a rare commodity. Despite your initial reluctance, you eventually cave. It’s not really your thing, but it’s a taste of normalcy, or what passes for it in this broken world, that you crave; plus, you convince yourself that you might even get a few good photos out of it.

Standing alone at the bar, you try to relax. You fiddle with the strap of your camera that rests on the bartop as you reminisce about how before the world turned to shit, you would have been quick to capitalize on an opportunity like this – to meet a nice guy, maybe have a drink or two and then end the night between the sheets.

You close your eyes and try to recall the last time you were touched, but it’s fruitless. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the gentle caress of a man or anyone for that matter.

You huff your residual irritation at the thought as you notice Joel talking with Tess in the distance. Tess. She’s rather new to town. You’ve only spoken once or twice, but you’ve gathered that she is a formidable woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, but still somehow kind.

Plus she can hunt, a welcome skill around here. As she converses with Joel, you take the time to drink in the details about her that you hadn’t noticed before. You guess she’s in her mid-40s, her hair is a mousey shade of brown with small shiny threads of gray in the mix, but she wears it well. Her complexion is soft, and her smile is nice. She’s pretty. You try not to color yourself too hard in the various shades of green as you wonder if Joel thinks the same.

“Another,” you signal to the bartender, and he fills your glass with amber liquid.

Maybe it’s the booze or the thick air from the crowded room causing your brain to go fuzzy, but you find yourself lost living out an alternate reality in your mind – one where Joel doesn’t hate you. One where he calls you a good girl, voice thick like honey, as he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Ellie’s voice calls you back to reality as she yells your name, signaling you to join her at the other end of the room. Downing the last of your drink, appreciating the subtle warmth it brings to your insides, you carefully place the glass on the bartop, shooting a subtle nod of appreciation to the bartender as you do; you grab your camera and place the strap around your neck. As you navigate the space toward Ellie, your keen awareness catches Joel breaking from his conversation with Tess, his gaze searing into you as you walk past both of them. His face is unreadable, but that doesn’t stop your pulse from quickening under his attention.

++++

After hours of socializing, all you crave is the comfort of your bed. Exhausted, you stumble out of the building, your balance betraying you on the gravel beneath your feet. Shit. You stand up, brushing off the lingering dirt from your knees, inadvertently smearing a small fleck of blood into your skin in the process. Of course, the one night you decide to wear a dress, the only one you own, you would end up injured.

“Really don’t have much spatial awareness, do ya, Darlin’?” Joel says, appearing out of the darkness, his dark and husky voice rings in your ears. It comes out a little harsher than he intended.

You shoot him a glare, half-hoping your eyes could actually launch daggers and finish him off right then and there. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole to me?" you demand, your frustration boiling over. “I’ve already apologized as much as I can, it’s fine if you don’t like me, but you could at least be cordial,” you say, voice defeated.

His mouth opens like he has something to say, but he doesn’t respond. "Right. Screw this, I'm going home,” you sigh as you walk away, thoroughly done with whatever messed-up game of cat and mouse the two of you are playing.

Joel watches you walk away, wishing he dared to go after you.

++++

Months go by, and despite the shifting atmosphere, as the crisp embrace of autumn gradually succumbs to the biting chill of winter; the air between you and Joel remains unchanged. His indifference is as unyielding as the encroaching winter snow.

“Tommy, please don’t make me go,” you beg. “He doesn’t even like me,” you cry, hoping he’ll have some sort of mercy on you.

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t like anyone. ‘M sorry, but it’s gotta be you two this time, ” Tommy replies, the sentiment of his voice echoing that there is no other option.

As you’re packing your backpack, you consider taking your camera but decide against it. Joel’s words pierce through you once more, “you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” You stash it in your dresser drawer, exchange it for a beanie and gloves, and walk out of the room to head to the stables.

Underneath the dappled morning sunlight filtering through the trees, you tread the familiar path to the barn, a soft crunch of gravel beneath your boots. The earthy scent of hay and the distant sounds of horses create a tranquil backdrop. As you approach the stables, your gaze catches Joel's silhouette – he stands, a rugged figure, in a weathered leather jacket and denim jeans with a knife sheathed at his side and a gun slung casually over his shoulder.

"Hey," you utter, your voice a gentle cadence, drawing closer to him. His gaze assesses you with a measured scrutiny, and with a subtle nod, he responds in a low murmur, "Ready?" The acknowledgment of your greeting remains absent.

Once inside the barn, you see the stable attendant readying your ride.

“‘M sorry, but you two are gonna have to share a horse,” he says, matter of fact. “Good ole bessy here has a lame foot that we gotta take care of before she’s back in commission,” he adds, patting the horse on the side. “And every other horse already has a rider for the day,” he adds. You think you hear Joel groan, but you can’t be sure.

You give the horse a friendly greeting, running your hand along its sturdy neck, a silent bond of understanding. Climbing onto its back, you settle in comfortably. Joel, without a word, positions himself behind you. The feeling of his thick chest pressed up against your back causes your breathing to hitch in your throat. Your eyes flutter closed as Joel reaches around you to grab the reins and he gently nudges the horse to go.

The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the path fills the air as you and Joel ride in tandem, a shared silence enveloping the space between you. The warmth of your body pressed against him, and the faint scent of your strawberry shampoo mingled with the earthy aroma of the trail, causes Joel to stiffen behind you. He adjusts his hips, subtly pulling them back, so you don’t notice.

You ride like that for what seems like an hour or more, until Joel breaks the silence, "So what’s the deal with the camera,” he asks as the horses continue their steady pace. His question throws you off. Is he being friendly?

“Oh, uh – well, my mom gave it to me when I was a little girl,” you say. Your voice goes an octave higher as you continue, “It’s all I have left of her now. All I have left of anyone, really,” you say. You bring your gloved hand up to wipe away the bead of snot that has gathered at the tip of your nose, sensitive from the cold, as you wait for his response.

“Hmm,” he adds, sensing the sadness, the grief behind your words; a hard truth almost everyone left alive has had to live. His heart hurts for you, hell, it hurts for him, too.

“Must be hard, reckon there’s not much worth takin’ a photo of these days,” he says, his head scanning from right to left to look out for any potential threats.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you pause.

“When I was younger, I used to think the sound of thunder was just the sound of god rearranging the furniture,” you say, slightly angling your head back to look at him, “it’s all about perception, Joel.”

He peers down at you, a furrow forming on his brow as he considers your words, his eyes tracking down to linger on your lips. Before you can say anything more, your attention flickers upward to the sky, the clear blue sky has been replaced by dark, ominous-looking clouds, and a raindrop falls to your cheek.

++++

By the time you find shelter, far from the comforts of Jackson, you’re both completely drenched.

“Stay here,” Joel says, hopping off the horse and swinging the rifle over his shoulders into his thick hands. You brush away the beads of water collecting on your lashes as you watch him enter the home to make sure it’s safe. He’s gone for what feels like forever, and after he returns, the rifle is slung over his shoulder again. It’s safe.

“Alright, darlin’ – all clear, let’s get outta this mess,” he says, offering his hand to help you get off the animal. Once steady, he takes the horse by the reins to lead him into the garage for shelter.

The rain-soaked chill clings to your skin as you and Joel step into the abandoned home, seeking refuge from the biting cold. Droplets cascade from your clothes, leaving a small puddle beneath your feet. The air inside is still, the only sound is the soft creaking of the dilapidated structure, the percussion of the raindrops falling on the roof, and the whip of the wind beating against the siding of the house.

Without a word, you both start shedding your damp layers, your shivers becoming more pronounced in the cool silence. You stand in the dusty living room, clad in only your bra and underwear, as you hold your arms crossed over your chest partially to warm yourself but also to shield yourself from Joel’s eyes, slightly self-conscious.

Joel briefly walks off before he returns from the bedroom off the side of the living room, having managed to find an old blanket among the remnants of the forgotten lives of the people who once lived in the home. He holds it open wide to you, an offering, and you turn your body so he can drape it around your shoulders. Once secured, you find a little bit of relief in its thick fibers.

You turn around to face him, and he stands there, rubbing his hands together in front of him in an attempt to warm himself.

“Joel, you’re freezing,” you say, slightly taking the blanket off of your shoulders as if to offer it to him. “‘M fine, Darlin’ – I’ll be fine, keep it, you need to get warm,” he says, but you see the way his body shakes as he says it, his tender curls plastered to his forehead; weighed down by the water collecting in them.

At that moment, you witness a fracture in Joel's stoic facade, the rugged exterior showing hairline cracks. The formidable walls he's meticulously built begin to crumble.

"Joel, seriously, we can share – come here," you insist, extending the blanket open with one arm, inviting him into the cocoon of warmth. The gesture carries an unspoken understanding, a truce. You might hate me, but I don’t hate you.

Joel hesitates for a second, his eyes tracing over your skin; as if he’s committing the sight of your hard nipples and damp skin to memory.

At last, he acquiesces, closing the gap between your bodies. His hands encircle your waist, drawing you close as he wraps both arms around you. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, and the blanket falls around both of your bodies. With him this close, you notice the subtle scent he carries with him, a touch of rain, a dash of cinnamon, and a hint of sweat. You’re not sure how, but he smells good.

With a long exhale, he tightens his hold on you, enfolding you against the sturdy warmth of his body. You melt into him, your cheek resting on the soft skin of his chest, and your breathing returns to a steady rhythm. You both pause there, letting the warmth swallow you up; eventually, the goosebumps that once littered both your bodies, begin to fade.

Your stomach flips as you listen to the subtle pitter patterns of his heart and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing. You had forgotten how good it feels to just be held; to have another body pressed up against yours. You realize Joel must feel the same, your attention flickers to the hard stiffness pushing against your stomach.

Tilting your face up to meet his, your arms still entwined around his neck, you whisper "Joel," your voice suggestive and questioning at the same time. His name hangs in the charged air.

"Darlin'," he responds in a low murmur, and before you can formulate a response, his lips claim yours in an unexpected yet tender collision. Joel groans and forces his tongue into your mouth. The intensity surges, and he begins to pull you back towards the couch. Joel pauses when the back of his calves meet the edge of the cushions, and he deepens the kiss before sitting back, pulling you with him onto his lap, the blanket falling to the floor leaving you almost bare on top of him.

The air in the home is still cold, but you don’t care, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins and your red-hot desire for him is more than enough to keep you warm. He’s as hard as a rock under his underwear, and you hum, noting how good his cock feels beneath you. You haven’t seen it yet, but you can tell he’s big.

“Are you sure you want this? What about Tess?” you ask, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts as he gropes both of your breasts with his hands, his lips meeting yours once more.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters, leaning back to look at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he says, his hands leaving your breasts to find your hips, and he pulls you down harder onto his clothed erection. “And Tess and I are just friends,” he adds, “You’re the one I haven’t been able to get outta my head.”

Joel closes his eyes, and his mouth hinges slightly open. It has been a while since you’ve been laid, but god were you glad to see you could still render a man speechless.

Joel’s long, firm fingers find their way up your back to the clasp of your bra. He begins to unhook it. “Take this off,” he says, and you do as he says, throwing the damp lace onto the floor, leaving yourself completely topless on top of him.

“God damn, Darlin’ –”, Joel responds to the sight of you.

“Like what you see?” you say, feeling confident, and less intimated now that Joel is beneath you. Of course, he could overpower you in a matter of seconds, but in this moment, you have the upper hand. You grasp his chin, admiring the feel of the coarse hair on your fingertips, and lean down to kiss him hard.

His cock throbs against you, and your pussy drips in response. You stay there, kissing him, grinding your clothed cunt into him, enjoying the desperate sounds he makes as you do. His firm body, soft tummy, and compact muscles spur you on. You grin as you trace your hands down his smooth chest, noting the scars -- from what, who, you can only imagine – until your hands eventually make their way down to the band of his underwear.

Joel stops you, firmly gripping your chin to look at him. He pauses there and then pulls your face towards his, firmly sucking your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. “Mmm, Joel,” you mutter, the words leaving your lips fumbled and sloppy. Joel intensely stares into your eyes for a moment, and you stare back, eyes wide in disbelief that this is happening.

“C’mere,” Joel says, breaking the silence with another kiss, as you rock your hips against him again, the movement sending sparks straight to your core. God, you’re so fucking wet for him – a dripping mess.

Joel presses his face against your chest and works his way to your pebbled nipple before daring his tongue out to lick it. You push a still slightly damp curl away from his forehead, before clenching his hair in your fist. His breath is almost desperate as he laps at your tender nipples, alternating between sucking and little flicks of his tongue. “Joel,” you moan, pulling his face into your chest.

He growls softly, and sucks at your nipple harder, then rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You make a little noise in response. He trails the flat of his tongue up the valley of your breasts and over your exposed throat before kissing it, his hips lifting to you a bit as he does. He can’t wait to be buried inside of you.

“Up, baby. There’s a bed in the back room,” he says, tapping your thigh. You shimmy off of him, and he rises to full height. It doesn't take long for his lips to find you again. Kissing in a way that’s almost as violent as he is, you walk backward this time, making your way to the bedroom with Joel’s guidance.

It isn’t much, just skeletal remains of what was once a sanctuary. A duvet rests on the creaky old bed, its once vibrant pattern lost to time and dust. The room is mostly bare apart from the bed and a half-falling apart nightstand. Joel sits down on the bed and you fall to your knees in front of him. Your fingers hook under the elastic of his underwear, and his hips cant up to help you pull the fabric down and off his legs.

The cock that springs free is thick and long. You’re intimidated only momentarily until the need to feel him overwhelms you.

You spit into your palm and take his heavy member in your hand, before beginning to jerk him off. You slide your thumb across his swollen and red tip, your other hand gripping the thick, dark coarse hair against the base of him.

Joel’s eyes roll back into his head at the sensation of him in your soft palms. You bend forward and place his cock in the space between your breasts, you tilt your chin down and open your mouth so a long line of drool dribbles down to the cleft of your chest for lubrication, and then you squeeze the flesh around his length, rubbing up and down the entirety of him.

“Fuck nghh — that’s, ugh, that’s so good baby,” he grunts, his hands grabbing the nape of your neck.

And it is good. Almost too good.

“Darlin’, shit – ah, you gotta stop or I’m gonna come,” he says, his voice low.

“Maybe I want you to,” you purr, torn between making him coat your tits with come, or letting him fuck you first.

“No,” he says, voice more firm this time, “Gotta feel that perfect pussy before I do, baby girl,” he says, rising to full height, his arms wrapping under your armpits to bring you up with him. In one swift move, he has you turned and your back hits the mattress while a soft oof escapes your lungs.

Joel has a hazy, dark look in his eye as he hovers over you. His pupils are blown open wide with lust. You think he might fuck you then, but he looks down and notices that your pussy is still covered by the thin lace of your now-soiled panties. He kisses down your chest, your tummy, and his head eventually finds its place between your thighs. He plants a soft kiss on your mound, and he mutters how sweet he thinks you’re going to taste.

“Think we oughta find out,” he says, and he hooks his thumbs around the fabric and pulls them off your frame. Within seconds, his soft lips are on your wet folds.

"Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good. "Taste so sweet, Darlin’, knew you would," Joel breathes, his breath hot against you.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and he works to throw you over the cliff of your orgasm. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are primal and filthy.

“Be a good girl for me,” he demands, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me taste your sweet release.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my god – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop" you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. “Kiss me, darlin’,” he says, and his lips find yours. You savor the way it tastes; a hint of tang, but just so. You reach your hand in between your bodies to grab his cock, and he takes the hint.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, lining the entrance of his cock, the tip of it weeping with pre-cum, up against your wet and waiting hole. He presses his hips forward gently, and you begin to relax and flutter around him, feeling the subtle sting of an unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant, stretch.

“So big, feels so full, Joel,” you cry, “I know, baby. But I know she can handle it,” he coos, pressing impossibly deeper into you, until eventually he’s buried in you to the hilt. Underneath his solid frame, skin to skin, his cock firm inside of you, you feel your skin prickle hot and blood rushes through your ears. He fucks you equisitely, his chest crowding yours, but he bears the brunt of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush you too much.

He steadies like this for a while, before he eventually pushes himself up and grips the back of your knees. You follow his cue and pull them up, feet flat on the mattress beneath you. He folds them cross-cross onto your chest, obscenely stretching your needy hole around the girth of him.

You can’t breathe. He’s so big you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His cock drags in and out of you, making you shudder and your toes curl. The way he fucks you is so much – hard, deep, and passionate.

“You feel so good, Darlin’. Gripping me so fucking good, being such a good girl,” Joel moans.

“God, don’t stop, ugh I’m so close,” you say, eyes closing.

“Eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me while you come on my cock,” he says, as he takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, demanding your attention.

Something snaps inside you, and your whole body tenses, and then releases in a sweet gush. “Jesus,” his blunt nails dig into the flesh of your hips before his jaw falls slack. With one more thrust, he loses himself, buried deep inside of you, your walls coaxing his balls empty. “Fuck, baby,” he growls as he empties everything inside you, finishing his climax with a guttural groan.

Joel pulls out, and you sigh at the loss of being full of him. He bends forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling sharp breaths, before falling to your side on the mattress.

You sit up onto your forearms, and a dribble of his release comes out of you. You grin down at him, surveying the damage. Joel’s complexion is pink, and his eyes are closed – he’s successfully been fucked into oblivion.

“Cmere, darlin’,” he says, eyes still closed, opening one arm open to welcome you into the warmth of his chest. You lay there, once again listening to his heart and the sounds of the rain on the grimy window in the room. You trail your index finger down his sternum.

“You know, I thought you hated me,” you say, your voice a little sad, but you know you need to get this off your chest. “I know you had to kill that guy because I wasn’t paying attention, and I really am sor–” Joel once again silences your sentence by placing his finger on your lips.

“Never say sorry to me again, Darlin’,” he says “‘sides, I’m the one who should be apologizin’, I’ve been a real asshole to you,” his voice sincere. “I just – I don’t know what I would ha’ done if I didn’t get to that guy in time, I’d never forgive myself if I lost you and could have prevented it.” His head drops to the pillow and he stares at the ceiling; your head finds it’s place once again the crook of his arm, nuzzled up against his side body for warmth.

There’s still so much more he wants to say, but he knows that he’ll have the time to do it later. He stares at the rough texture above him for a moment longer, before he quickly gets up, as if to remember something.

“Be right back,” he says and walks into the other room. He returns with a pack and pulls from it a little black container. “Found this during a raid the other day – thought of you,” he says, handing it to you. You jiggle it up by your ear and smile.

Film.

Joel Miller may be an asshole.

But he’s an asshole that most definitely doesn’t hate you.

END

Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @untamedheart81 @darkheartgatita @endlessthxxghts @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @bastardmandennis @dins-riduur-anthe @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @nosesitter @pedroswife69 @morallyinept @milly-louise @toxicanonymity @javiscigarette @planet-marz1 @anavatazes @dugiioh As always, please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag lists.xx

#joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #The last of us #enemies to lovers #pwp fics #pedro pascal character #joel miller #pedrohub #film photography

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

Text

❣️!Can’t shut my mouth about you girl!❣️

Pairing : Charles leclerc X Cherrie!

Word count : 7k

Summary: Charles has a big mouth and struggles to keep their relationship a secret.

Cherrie laughed underneath her breath as she walked out to the balcony where the team had decided to film the new video for the channel, spotting Charles stood randomly in the middle of the chaos that was surrounding him as people rushed around to get the cameras and lighting into place.

He looked completely lost as he looked around with a helpless look on his face, his hands pressed to his hips.

She was certain that if she looked close enough that she would have been able to spot a pout on his pretty face too.

Holding up the two milkshakes that she had gotten them, she started to weave her way through the crew setting up and head over to him. Feeling a little bad for him now.

"Oi! Oi!" She called over to him with a grin, laughing even harder at the way he immediately snapped his head over to her at the sound of her voice .

His whole face lighting up as he let out a loud sigh of relief , hurrying over to her .

"Where have you been?" He scolded her , annoyed thag she had taken so long when she had just told him that she was going to be there in a few minutes and that she was just stuck in traffic.

That was half an hour ago.

But she hadn’t completely lied. She had been stuck in traffic. Just the drive through type of traffic , having been craving a cold milkshake and decided to stop for one before their day got busy and she lost her chance .

"Drop the attitude otherwise I'm not gonna give you your milkshake." She threatened him. Waving them inticingly in front of his face. Knowing that just like her, he had a sweet tooth.

It wouldn’t be the first time that she had bribed him with candy or ice cream. Wouldn’t be the last either.

His scowl immediately dropped , eyebrows raising as he grinned. Accepting the milkshake from her with a happy little hum.

"Our trainers are going to hate us for this!” He mentioned amusedly as they both took a long sip from their drink that was most definitely not on their strict diet plan.

But Cherrie was a bad infulence and if she did something that wasn't alowed then most of the time he needed up doing it too.

He supposed it was the side effect of being in love.

If they jumped , you jumped . If they kept sneaking snacks in their purse that he wasn't allowed to eat , his favourite ones too, well, he just had to eat them.

If anyone found out he would happily throw her under the bus anyways . Out of the two of them it was very obvious which one of them was the bad influence.

"Who gives a shit?" She just muttered uncaringly as they made their way over to the red couch that had been placed in the middle of the balcony for them to sit on.

Charles letting out a little Yelp when she playfully shoved him down onto it making him fall backwards , clutching onto his milkshake with a startled gasp as he nearly dropped it all over himself.

"Cherrie!" He slapped at her thigh scoldingly when she continued to stand in front of him, looking out at the view they had. Not at all bothered that he nearly turned the red couch pink with milkshake.

“I could have dropped the milkshake!" He put it down on the ground below him before she did something else that could end in disaster.

She just laughed , shrugging her shoulders carelessly . "Well you didn't ." Was all she said before pulling out her phone and replying to a text that her mother had sent her asking about when she was next going to be coming home. Telling her that she missed her.

Charles smiled a little to himself as he leant back against the couch with a content sigh , watching the way his girlfriend smiled down at her phone , her nose scrunching up a little as she concentrated on typing.

Feeling the familiar rush of love pour through him, so much so that he almost forgot where they were and that they weren't alone.

That there were rules that they had to follow.

"Cherrie.." he called over to her , smiling to himself when she gave him a quiet hum. Still focusing on texting on her phone.

"I love you." He said a little too loudly for a fact that was supposed to be a secret .

That got her attention quickly as she snapped her head up from her phone with wide eyes, gasping a little as she quickly looked around them to make sure that nobody had heard his heartfelt declaration of love.

"Charles! Not so loud!" She scolded him as she quickly made her way over to him so she could sit next to him instead. So they didn't have to speak so loud.

So that there was less chance of someone overhearing his very vocal love for her.

Charles just rolled his eyes with a small displeased frown, bothered by the way he couldn't just openly show his love for her in front of people.

Because they had both been advised by their managers not to publicly announce their relationship yet. Something that the both of them had understood the reasoning why.

Cherrie had only transferred to Ferrari a few months ago after ending her contract with redbull , having decided that it was time to try something new after not being satisfied with her old team.

Charles had been more than excited after she had told him about the offer she had for ferrari, the thought of the love of his life also being his teammate and being able to race beside her on the track in the same car was like his dream come true.

The two of them had already been dating for a couple of months before that, even while she was a too driver for redbull. Something that they had to keep a secret then too , knowing that neither team would have been very happy with them cozying up to each other after competing against each other on the track.

They were supposed to be rivals. But they were lovers instead .

Charles couldn't find it in himself to care though because he had been in love with Cherrie since he was a teenager and she had beaten him at every kart race that they done.

After the third time of her winning against him, she had came up to him and simply asked him if he wanted her to show him how to win. Told him bluntly that it was embarrassing seeing him lose all the time.

Charles , who had already developed a crush on her from afar , had gone bright red and rapidly nodded his head as his answer .

Letting her gently take his hand and lead him over to somewhere private where she had then began to give him a bossy lesson where she bluntly told him everything that he was doing wrong and how he should fix it.

He had won the race after that. Beaming proudly over at her when she had stuck up her thumbs at him happily, shouting that she knew he could do it.

He had fell in love at the same time too.

He had followed her around like a lost puppy after that, even when she moaned and groaned that he was annoying her and how uncool it was for her to have a boy stuck to her side like this .

But he hadn’t given in, He had persisted. Determine that she was the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even though he was so young , he knew it then too.

And honestly , it hurt his pride a little to admit that Cherrie hadn't been too fussed about him at first . Too set on becoming a world champion to even consider putting romance on her cards, she had merely went along with Charles increasing affections until she realised that perhaps she didn't hate it as much as she pretended .

He had been insanely proud when she had gotten a contract with redbull , a year after he had been signed with Ferrari. A part of him had been worried that their friendship would be forced to break apart and that rivalry would come between them.

So he had made it his mission to make sure that never happened .

He knew that while she was a driver for redbull that they couldn't publicly be together without their being a load of unessary drama. But there was no reason that they couldn't be together privately.

So after she had won her first championship , he had shown up at her door with a bottle of champagne and congratulated her with a kiss. Confessing his undying love for her and refusing to take any of her excuses to why they couldn't be together , he had rebutted every single one logically before kissing her again.

They had been together ever since.

And when she had finally been signed to Ferrari Charles had hoped that their secret relationship didn't have to be such a secret anymore.

Which he should have known was too hopeful for him to think so.

Because then their managers had told them that they needed to keep it under wraps for at least a couple of more months until the dust settled and any lingering controversies about cherries move to Ferrari had settled . Not wanting the public to think that she had just switched teams so that she could be with her boyfriend.

Cherrie had no problem with keeping her mouth shut , already used to it.

Charles however , wasn't so good at keeping his love for her very quiet.

Because whenever she was beside him he seemed to forget that anyone else existed and she would have been more flattered if she didn't know that their managers would be on their ass if he got them found out all because he couldn't keep his hands and lips to himself .

Giving him a pointed look as he leaned against her side and gave her shoulder a quick kiss, grinning up at her little a naughty kid when she pushed him away, spotting their interviewer coming their way.

"Behave." She hisssed at him underneath her breath when she felt his hand slide behind her back and then up her shirt. His fingers tracing shapes into her soft skin.

Writing out his name in big , cursive swooping letters till he felt goosebumps appear beneath his fingertips.

He smirked to himself lazily "I'm not doing anything. You behave." He muttered , winding her up.

She just rolled her eyes at him before plastering a smile on her face just as their interviewer , Amelia, greeted them both politely .

"Hi guys! Just to let you know that it's going to be a live video today. So the typical rules stand. I'm going to ask you a few questions and then we're going to play a quick game! Is that okay with you?" She filled them in with a friendly smile.

Charles and her nodded Their heads yes, exchanging a small look between them at being told that the video was live. They hadn’t been told that.

"If we do something embarrassing then there will be no way of editing it out." He stated the obvious , a little worried at the thought .

He did have a tendencies to accidentally say things that didn't make sense or would be took completely the wrong way, mostly when he suddenly forgot how to translate what he meant to English.

Cherrie just smirked , nudging his shoulder in amusement . Already knowing what he was thinking about.

"You'll Be fine . If you say something embarrassing then I'll just laugh super obnoxiously so that they think it's just a bad inside joke." She helpfully told him , fighting back a yawn as she leant back on the couch and got more comfortable. Exhausted from Charles keeping her up all night .

Unfortunately for her the way she wanted Charles to keep her up wasn't what she had gotten . Instead she had been woken up by her giddy boyfriend who had been holding up a customised Ferrari Lego set that he had bought the both of them .

They had spent a ridiculous amount of time putting them together till eventually she had slipped down onto his lap with the half built Ferrari hanging from her fingertips as she knocked out cold . Leaving Charles to finish up on his own instead.

She had woken up in the morning to find the two Lego Ferrari's with their numbers on placed proudly on the shelf in the front room , right by the photo of the two of them kissing in their matching racing suits that he had made them take once they had both gotten home after her official signing .

Charles gave her a look "I know that should be comforting but it isn't because your fake laugh is very obvious. It's very different to your real one mon amour." He told her , playing with a loose thread that was hanging off her denim shorts.

She just smiled fondly back at him "only you would recognise the difference bébé . You'd probably be able to tell if I was using a different mascara. You notice everything ." She muttered quietly , secretly impressed by how closely he paid attention to her.

He squinted his eyes at her , smirking to himself as he looked at her long lashes as she fluttered at him dramatically for affect .

"You are wearing a new one. They're a little longer than usual. Darker too." He mentioned before smugly titling his head at her . "I bet you can't even tell what's different about me today." He challenged her knowing how oblivious she was sometimes.

I mean this was the same girl that had thought he just wanted to be her friend until he literally had to bluntly spell it out for her to understand.

If he hadn’t had also shoved his tongue down her throat straight after telling her he loved her, he was sure that she could have just said ‘like a friend right?’

So he had made sure to leave absolutely no error for confusion then.

She eyed him for a long moment, checking over his hair first and seeing nothing but the same cute mop on his head. Then she kept scanning. Same Ferrari shirt , same watch. Same everything.

She frowned playfully "did you get more annoying today? Is that it?" She teased him. Laughing when he pinched her side in return.

Rolling his eyes at her with a smirk tugging at his lips, shaking his head .

"Nope. It's actually something you gave me.." he hinted , amused by the way she was blankly staring back at him.

She had no idea.

Shrugging her shoulders lazily as she saw the cameraman nod towards Amelia to signal that they were ready when she was.

Charles then casually tugged down the colour of his shirt for her to see and her eyes went wide as she saw a set of dark hickeys all over his neck.

Choking on a startled gasp as she slapped his hand away and quickly fixed his collar to cover them again, her cheeks flushing red in embarrassment.

Glaring at him once she noticed him giggling like a naughty kid at her reaction.

"Oh mon dieu! Behave!" She warned him again , unable to stop herself from grinning too. His laugh was far too infectious for her to be serious.

Luckily he managed to sort himself out by the time Amelia sat down and started asking them questions, the stream going live.

She looked between them with a friendly smile on her face. "So, how's it been being teammates? Cherrie , is it any different than your last? Did you feel like it took time for you to adjust to your new team?" She asked her pleasantly .

Cherrie grinned and peered over at Charles in amusement . Both of them sharing a look between them, thinking the same dirty thing.

If by adjustment she meant having sex all over Ferrari headquarters together then sure , she had adjusted well .

"It's going well , yes. Charles is an easy guy to get along with and I'd say that we've bonded really well." Charles nodded his head along with her in agreement .

She continued on, wanting to wind him up a little to get back at him for throwing her off guard like he had . "-although I do miss Max . We were a great team together and we had a lot of fun. That's definitely a downside." She said casually .

Struggling to Hold back a loud laugh at the way Charles’s smile immediately slid off his face, narrowing his eyes at her dangerously.

It was safe to say that Charles was a little bit jealous of her closeness to her last teammate . Having always hated the way he couldn't even hold her hand in public while max got to hug her and celebrate with her each night instead .

He had almost blown a fuse when he had watched Max kiss her cheek up on the podium one time .

Convinced that every guy that met her wanted her like he did , it had been a little tense between the two drivers when Charles had finally gotten onto a podium with max , feeling pissed off that he could publicly cuddle and kiss on his girlfriend, he had made sure to pettily spray the champagne directly into Max’s eyes in revenge .

Cherrie had never let it go since . Finding it hilarious how just the sound of Max's name made him glow green like the grinch.

She thought it was cute . Because truthfully Charles couldn’t even hurt a fly. And he was too cute and soft to come across as threatening or intimidating to anyone that pissed him off.

That was her job . She was definitely the scary one in their relationship.

"We have more fun together now that she did with max ." Charles couldn't help but mutter pettily , the Microphone clipped onto his shirt easily picking it up.

Cherrie laughed loudly at him while Amelia grinned between them in amusement

"You think that you're the better teammate for her?"

Charles rose his eyebrows up like it was an obvious answer . "Yes. One hundred percent." Duh.

"Cocky." Cherrie grinned , shaking her head at him in amusement .

Charles shot her a unimpressed look "honest." He shot back at her quickly .

"-did max ever make sure that you had your tea every morning before the race? Or import your favourite chocolate for you when we were out of the country?” He reminded her smugly. Already knowing the answer .

She didn't answer. His smile only grew.

“exactly. I win."

Amelia laughed before changing the subject. "Okay. You two have been friends for quite some time right?"

They both nodded.

"What we're your first impressions of each other?" She asked them next.

Cherrie didn't hesitate "I thought he was annoying. He wouldn't stop staring at me without saying anything. It weirded younger me out." She answered to her honestly .

Charles shot her a offended look. Blushing a little because she wasn't wrong. Not at all.

He had in fact stared at her a lot but in his defence he had just fallen in love without realising it.

And who didn't gaze in awe at the girl they were in love with? It really wasn’t his fault!

Who didn’t look at the Angel that shot them with Cupid’s arrow? That was just stupid!

"I just didn't know what to say or how to approach you! You were very intimidating to me then !" He defended himself weakly .

Cherrie just snorted "you could have just said hello weirdo."

He frowned back at her like what she said was crazy.

Because to him it was.

“No way. My first impression of you was that you really scared me. I couldn't even speak around you without panicking." He admitted embarrassingly.

"Me? Scary?" At his pointed look she relented a little "okay maybe a little bit . But I can assure you guys that I'm really not that bad." She looked over to the camera with a laugh.

"It's just the resting bitch face I have. It scares people off." She reassured them. Not wanting them to think that she was a complete bitch for no reason.

She was more of an accidental bitch than a purposeful one.

Charles looked at her face , smiling a little to himself as he watched her scrunch up her nose as she tried to explain herself.

"Its usually when she's bored or tired. She kind of just zones out and looks like she's going to kill someone if they dare to disturb her. She doesn't even realise she's doing it ." He added trying to help her out.

Chuckling a little to himself as he thought about the amount of times he had found her glaring at nothing at all , too busy in her own head to realise that she was scaring people off.

Cherrie nodded in agreement . Nudging him gently with her shoulder . "Yeah. We can't all have a cute puppy face like Charles. One of us has to be the scary one." She simply said.

Amelia asked them a few more questions as they grew more relaxed. Charles hooking his ankle around her own as he started to pull at the thread of her shorts even more, ignoring the looks she kept giving him to stop.

"What's your favourite thing about your teammate?"

Cherrie rose her brow curiously "like physically or their personality?"

Amelia just shrugged "let's go with both." She said.

They both nodded in understanding.

Charles went first this time. It was an easy question to answer for him. He could go on and on about all the things he loved about Cherrie but he knew he had to keep it simple so he didn't get in trouble or give his love for her away.

"I like how selfless and kind she is. How even if she's had a bad day she's willing to help someone else out. Like when lando lost control of his wheel at the corner and accidentally took them both off the track, she didn't get mad. She just calmly went over to him and showed him how to keep control of the wheel to prevent himself from crashing." He explained truthfully .

remembering how she had also let lando use her own simulator to teach him some more things that would help. Not caring that he was her rival on the track.

He was her friend firsthand. And friendship came first in her mind.

Cherrie just bashfully shrugged "his team didn't seem to be helping him out very much so I just offered some tips that had helped me out. No big deal." She mumbled , laughing a little. Hating talking about nice things she did.

Charles nudged her shoulder with a fond smile, seeing how shy she got whenever someone praised her. He loved it.

That was why he always gushed to people about how sweet she was below the tough girl act she had on. He felt lucky that he was one of the very few people that got to know the real her.

She was amazing . Fucking perfect in his eyes.

"It was very kind and not many of the other drivers would do that." He insisted before moving on, not wanting to make his girlfriend too uncomfortable.

She could only take one compliment at a time without turning the colour of their cars.

"And physically my favourite thing about you your eyes. It's hard to look away from them sometimes." He admitted to her shamelessly , leaning forward and admiring the way they sparkled and seemed impossibly lighter under the sun.

Cherrie blew out a flustered breath, laughing nervously . "Okay. Okay. My turn!" She quickly moved on before she became a tomato. Aware that there was thousands of people watching her reaction closely live on their screen.

"My favourite thing about Charles is how he never leaves anybody on their own when they're upset. He always finds a way to cheer you up when your Down." She told them honestly , admiring his kindness .

Charles just shrugged "I don't like seeing people upset." He simply muttered.

She ruffled his hair with a smile , laughing when he batted her hands away and quickly tried to fix it again.

"And my favourite thing about him is his smile. It's infectious and it's hard to stay mad at him for anything when he's got a smile like that. It's too pretty. It's not fair actually." She huffed jokingly , reaching out to gently poke his dimple as he smiled boyishly at her.

Cheeks flushing a little at her answer.

"Mmm so when I piss her off I just have to flash the dimples and I'm safe!" He joked. Reaching for the water bottle on the table in front of them that they had been given.

Unscrewing the lid and taking a sip before offering it to Cherrie to drink as well , she glanced over to the camera pointedly making him quickly lift it up to his mouth instead.

Oh right. He almost facepalmed. He couldn't share a bottle of water with her so casually in front of everyone like that. They weren't supposed to be that close .

He almost snorted. If only they knew what other fluids that they shared.

Sharing a bottle of water wouldn't seem so scandalous then.

Amelia just smiled "how about the opposite . What is something that you don't like about your teammate?" She questioned them mischievously..

Charles winced. While Cherrie just laughed .

"Ooo that's a dangerous one. One wrong answer could break our entire friendship." He put empathise on friendship , wiggling his brow at Cherrie jokingly.

She pinched his knee in warning. Side eyeing him.

She went first , not even hesitating. "I don't like how he so easily puts himself down over every mistake , even when they're not his fault. I don't like how badly you let it affect your confidence. Makes me feel sad to see , especially when I know how amazing you are. And what a good driver you are." She told him, looking him in the eye so he knew that she meant it.

It was a conversation that they had many times before and although Charles was working on it and getting better at not letting a single mistake derail his entire progress , there were still times when it became to much for him to handle.

That was when Cherrie stepped in and give him some tough love.

Forcing him out of his sulking and pushing him back into the Simulator room where she would have him show her what he had done on the track and find out where he had gone wrong . Then she would spend hours upon hours of her own time making him fix his mistake until he got it right.

She had even managed to persuade their team into linking their radios together during racing so that she could speak to him occasionally to make sure that he was doing okay and to slip him tips that she found when she passed each lap, usually ahead of him, so she already knew what he had to face.

It was perfect teamwork and because of their weird little system he had improved greatly.

Charles smiled at her gently , humming. "You're right. It's a bad habit. But I'm working on it. We're working on it.” He corrected himself fondly “-She now just slaps me on my head if she hears me say a bad word about myself so.." he trailed off giggling , snapping off the thread to her shorts and starting to pick at another one absentmindedly.

Cherrie grinned , pleased with herself. "I do." She agreed unashamed "if that's what it takes to stop you from calling yourself stupid then I will keep slapping the back of your head until I knock the sense back into you." She stated bluntly.

They all laughed .

Charles hummed thoughtfully as he thought about his answer before letting out a 'oh!' When it finally came to him.

Giving Cherrie a look "I don't like how messy you can be. She just throws everything onto the floor. In the bedroom there's just clothes in every corner and-" he was about to say about how he had ended up putting on her jeans instead of his own because of the way she piled them all together when Cherrie cleared her throat pointedly and quickly cut him off.

Making him quickly shut up as he realised that he had just told everyone that he had been in her bedroom. Although they did live together , nobody knew that. So it just sounded like he hung out in her bedroom now.

She smiled a little too forcefully , hoping that they got away with it. Having cut him off at the right time.

"Mmm he's right. My bedroom is a mess. I'm just too lazily to clean up. I'm usually knackered by the time I get home." She simply muttered.

Amelia moved on clearly sensing the slither of tension Charles answer had brought. Shuffling some cards in her hands that the producer past to her before smiling at them brightly .

"Okay finally we're going to play a game next. The first word game. I know you're both familiar with it. I give you a word and the both of you blurt out what comes to your mind first." She told them nicely .

Cherrie shuffled to the edge of her seat, clapping her hands excitedly .

“I love this game." She exclaimed happily .

Charles copied her movements , grinning over at her as he nudged her knee with his own.

"I wonder if we'll answer any of the same. Maybe we'll be on the same brain wave." He mused.

She giggled and leant her head against his own jokingly "here's some brain power!" Laughing even harder when he rubbed his head against hers in return .

Making her push his head away with a giggly grin before he made their hair static.

He patted the top of his hand , flattening his hair down again the best that he could .

“Ready. We've charged up our minds now!" He said cheekily giving Amelia a thumbs up.

She just laughed at their antics before starting the game.

"Ice cream!" She said to them.

"Strawberry!" They both blurted out at the same time.

Before gasping and turning to High five each-other with a proud laugh.

"It worked!" Charles joked patting the top of her head happily . Giggling between each other bedore Amelia cleared her throat and motioned for them to concentrate again.

"Okay. Go on!" Cherrie grinned. Pumped up.

Amelia said "holiday!"

"Spain!" Cherrie shouted out the holiday that she and Charles had just been on.

He shouted out "Hawaii!" The holiday where he had told her he loved her for the first time.

They both exchanged a knowing look, smiling at each other .

"Fire." Amelia Said.

"Kitchen!" Charles blurted out immediately.

"Ball!" Cherrie exclaimed . Bedore giving him a annoyed scowl as she realised why he had said that first .

"Charles!" She whined making him laugh.

Charles looked at Amelia and explained , giggling to himself as he did so. "I asked her to fry some tomatoes while I went out to get some bread and I came back to her screaming while the pan was on fire!" The memory made him grin so wide his cheeks hurt .

Remberinf how terrified she had been as she held out the pan that was on fire in front of her while yelling hysterically at him to help her. Apparently all her fire safety and common sense had left her at that exact moment .

Charles had never asked her to cook anything again after that .

"I was half asleep. It wasn't my fault." She muttered embarrassed. Rolling her eyes jokingly at them.

"okay let's move on!" She pleaded.

Amelia laughed but did as she said.

They did a few more simple ones before they started to get a little more daring. Clearly set up to get them to spill more details on their lives .

"Date!" She said.

"Dinner." Charles said . Saying what he planned to do when they got home. A cute little dinner date that he had planned .

"Wine." Cherrie said. Wondering what food Charles was going to cook her. She crossed her fingers and hoped for pasta.

"Bed." She said .

Cherrie blurted out a "blanket."

While Charles said "please!” Making both of them give him a confused look.

Cherrie laughed "why did you say please?" She asked him. Amused.

Charles flushed , scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried to shrug it off . Knowing exactly why he had blurted out please like that.

It was a phrase that Cherrie liked to mutter whenever they were making out in the front room, when things were heading down south and they had lost their clothes somewhere on the couch she would always mutter a "bed please." In his ear while kissing down his neck.

"I don't know." He lied .

They thankfully moved on before he could turn into a human tomato.

"Love." She said mischievously .

"You." They both exclaimed at the same time. Grinning at each other as Charles made a heart shape with his fingers and held it up to her head.

"Brain power!" He whisper shouted to her jokingly .

"Job!" Amelia read the next word off the card.

There was no hesitation when Cherrie shouted out "blow!" Making Charles choke on his breath.

Looking at her with wide eyes as he burst into naughty giggles, watching her go red as she realised what she had just said.

"Sorry." She muttered with a sheepish grin.

"Naughty." He mumbled to her smirking.

She just jabbed her elbow in his side making him snicker.

Amelia read out the next card "driver"

"Vettel." Cherrie said her favourite driver.

"Me." Charles answered.

"Fight."

"Flight." Charles said quickly .

"Fuck!" Cherrie immediately grimaced again as soon as she blurted it out. Covering her face with her hands and groaning "sorry!"

Charles laughed , patting the top of her head sympathetically as he looked mockingly towards the camera.

"She's got a dirty mind. You see what I have to put up with?" He joked . Knowing he was just as bad.

Cherrie huffed and narrowed her eyes at him playfully . "Shut up!"

The game continued . "Crush." She said.

"Blush."

"Love."

"Shower."

"Sex!” They both said at the same time. Exchanging glances as they both burst into childish laughter again.

"See! I'm not the only one!" She exclaimed , grinning smugly at him. "We sound like deviants." She added amusedly .

Charles snorted "speak for yourself." He remarked.

Then Amelia pulled out a card and said "kiss."

Cherries mind automatically went to the band and she said "rock." Just as she heard Charles blurt out his answer without thinking. Again.

"Cherrie!” He exclaimed before freezing up as he realised what he had said. Looking over to the camera that was screening them live for everyone to see , then he peered over at Cherrie beside him with a wince .

She had face Palmed. Just deciding to laugh at off as he went bright red.

He let out a nervous giggle before looking over at Amelia who was grinning at him knowingly .

"Next one." He muttered .

"Ferrari."

"Car!" They both said.

"Hate."

"Max." Charles blurted out.

Cherrie smacked him upside the head. Looking over at the camera with a roll of her eyes.

“He’s joking!" She assured them knowing that his answer was going to cause unnecessary drama now.

Charles just chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. He was joking.

A little bit.

"Spoon."

Charles thought of their cuddling and said "little."

While Cherrie said "big." Both of them sharing a another look.

"Cow."

"Moo."

"Burger." Cherrie said making Charles giggle to himself .

"Ex."

"Cited."

"Boyfriend." Cherrie exclaimed.

Charles grinned "she didn't say the word asshole." He remarked . Making her laugh again .

Charles absolutely hated her ex boyfriend. Mostly because he had gotten to do everything with Cherrie that he wanted to do.

He had been forced to sit back and watch them make out at party's before he had enough and 'accidentally' pushed him into the pool.

It was safe to say that he was glad when she dumped him.

She thought that they had recovered nicely from his fuck up earlier on when they finally got to the last card .

Tensing as soon as she heard Amelia say the word, fighting back the urge to groan in defeat when Charles's face lit up.

"Girlfriend." She said.

There was no hesitation when Charles blurted out "Cherrie!” Grinning over at her excitedly before releasing what he had done.

His eyes widening as he gasped out a "shit!"

"Idiot!" She laughed unable to help herself despite the deep shit they were going to be in. She fell back against the couch and covered her face with her hands , giggling to herself at how he just couldn't keep his mouth shut at all.

Honestly , she was surprised that their relationship had managed to stay secret for this long anyways.

There was a shocked pause before Amelia looked between them curiously. "Are you two dating?" She grinned . Having already suspected it from the way they behaved with each other. It was far too comfortable and cosy to just be friends.

Charles looked over at Cherrie for permission this time, beaming happily when she just nodded her head with a small sigh.

Already pulling out her phone to text out a warning and a small apology to their managers and PR team that were going to have to do some hard work now.

Charles couldn't care less. Instead he was just relieved to finally be able to say "yes."

"We live together too." He added as well. Might as well tell them why he had said what he said before.

"That's why I was saying about how messy she is. I've literally went out with her clothes on before because she doesn't put them in the right place. I've been trying to get her to use a system but she won't do it." He casually told Amelia and the cameras .

While his girlfriend was scrambling to apologise on both of their behalf's as she texted their teams , meanwhile Charles just continued to ramble on about their relationship without a care in the world.

"How long have you been together?"

He hooked his arm through cherries and peered at her phone screen to see a pissed off message from

Their managers telling them off.

He quickly looked away , unbothered . "Two years coming up. If you count it from the day we officially got together . But I've been in love with her since I was a teenager." He admitted shamelessly .

At that Cherrie grinned and looked up from her phone , chuckling . "He wouldn't leave me alone."

Charles just shrugged . "It worked though didn't it?"

"Yeah years later!"

Charles just pulled a face "still worked. It just took longer than I first anticipated." He muttered smugly , kissing her quickly because he could.

Giving up Cherrie told Amelia a funny memory "I tried to break up with him once ya know." She said amusedly . Making Charles groan at the reminder.

Ameilia laughed "really?"

She nodded with a smirk. "Yeah. As you can see it didn't work. I told him I was breaking up with him and he literally looked me in the eye and said "no." Bedore going back to bed ."She snorted loudly at the memory .

Charles chuckled sheepishly , blushing. "It worked though didn't it? We're still tougher now."

Ameilia laughed at the way Cherrie rolled her eyes at him fondly . Muttering about how he gave her no choice in the matter. Clearly used to his behaviour .

"Well I'm glad that he did! You two make a lovely couple. Congrats!" She said to them kindly before finishing off the interview and saying her goodbyes.

Leaving Cherrie to pull Charles up off the couch like a annoyed parent , tutting at him as she dragged him towards the exit where she knew a group of angry pr teams would be waiting for them.

"You can explain this one babe. This is on you." She said to him firmly .

He just wrapped his arm around her neck , tucked her head into his elbow and kissed her again. Not giving a shit about the scolding of a lifetime that they were about to get for exposing their relationship to the world when they had specifically been told not to.

Who cares? He thought pleased with himself as he held her close and tucked his hands into the back pocket of her shorts , deepening the kiss. Not caring that there were lingering crew still hanging around filming them.

If he could finally kiss her like this in public then he would take the tongue lashing that they were about to get any day.

It was worth it.

#Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #Charles leclerc fix

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

Text

Propaganda

Laurence Olivier (Hamlet, Rebecca, Pride and Prejudice)—Any reference article will tell you that he's one of the finest stage actors of the 20th century and (arguably) contributed to transforming the landscape of live theater in the Anglophone world. But this is the Tumblr hot men poll, where it is arguably more important to know that he was an incredibly charming bi disaster who eye-fucked Vivien Leigh so conspicuously that everyone talked about it, both before and after their marriage. I do not have words for how hot this man was. I once sat under a portrait of him in black velvet and tights in the NPG cafeteria, and let me tell you I remember that so much better than my sandwich. I listened to a recording of him as Coriolanus on stage and got full-body chills. I photographed his copy of Richard III in the Folger Shakespeare Library for the sake of seeing his handwriting and his thoughts. ...okay, so I may have a problem, but the point is. So hot. And delivered one of the iconic pre-1970 lines about bisexuality on film ("oysters *and* snails," Spartacus 1963.)

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

youtube

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

Laurence Olivier propaganda:

"THEE actor man. You can't take theater classes and not know about this man. THEE Hamlet. Look at this lil blondie. VERY talented. (we are ignoring him also playing Othello, no he should not have done that) He was a pretty baby"

#harry belafonte #laurence olivier #i WILL keep the drag king picture in the propaganda i like it TOO much #round 3 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man #Youtube

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

No Nut November I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good.

Warnings: Humor, adult banter, smut, ridiculousness

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend and Payback x hookup

Check my masterlist for more!

When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good. As they finished a group run and headed into the gym for some weight training, one such conversation began to take form.

"Halloween was fun last night," Phoenix said with a yawn. "The Hard Deck was wild though."

"Yeah," Fanboy agreed, shaking his head as he got a bench press set up. "Crazy! But November is a way more chill month."

Hangman snickered. "Chill? You think No Nut November is chill?"

Coyote shook his head as he did some squats. "It's the roughest month of the year!"

A bubble of laughter escaped Bob. "What's No Nut November? Like no peanuts?

"More like no penis," drawled Hangman. "Or vagina," he added when he saw the look Phoenix was giving him. "It's a competition. You try to stay ejaculation free for the entire month. Who's game?"

"Count me out," Rooster promptly said. "My girlfriend will absolutely not go for this."

"Come on, Rooster," Payback said. "You don't even have to tell her you're participating."

Rooster stared at him in confusion. "I think she might notice something's up if I go from being balls deep inside her at least once a day to giving her nothing!"

"There are workarounds, Rooster. Don't you ever use your mouth for anything other than whining?" Phoenix asked, earning laughs from the others.

"Hmmm," Rooster rolled his eyes at her and contemplated how he could get away with participating.

"Well, if it's a competition, what does the winner get?" Bob asked.

"The satisfaction of knowing they aren't weak minded," Hangman informed him. "And I'll hang up a gold star outside the locker rooms that says 'Ejaculation Champ' with their name on it. Now, who's in?"

"Yeah," Payback said with a nod as he picked up a barbell.

"I'll do it," Fanboy added.

"Me too," agreed Coyote.

"Sure, sounds intriguing," Bob said with a nod.

"I...will hesitantly say yes. I will probably regret this," Rooster said with a sigh.

The guys all turned and looked at Phoenix who was stretching before she started weight training. "Oh, I'm already out. I lost."

Rooster's brow scrunched up. "What do you mean you're already out? It's November 1st at 9:30 in the morning."

Phoenix just smirked at the boys. "I had a guest over last night," she said coyly.

"Legendary," Fanboy muttered. "You've got more game than all of the rest of us combined."

"Are you kidding me?" asked Hangman. "Less than ten hours into the month and you're already out? I'm actually kind of impressed."

Phoenix just shrugged. "The gold star would have been nice, but it was worth it."

Hangman sighed and turned back to the guys. "We've all got to be one hundred percent truthful. If you nut, you're out. And you need to admit to it."

The guys all agreed. And thus the month of November became a thing of legend.

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

On November 6th, Coyote woke up with morning wood. He got all comfy in bed and took care of himself. "No better way to start your day," he muttered as he cleaned himself up. "Oh, shit!"

He had fucking forgotten about the bet!

When he got to base and saw the guys, he just shook his head.

"You nutted!" accused Fanboy immediately.

"Yeah," Coyote admitted. "I just completely forgot about the bet, and I....jerked off this morning." He winced, and the guys looked at him with disdain.

"Well you can kiss that gold star goodbye," Hangman told him. "Everyone else hanging in there?"

"Yeah," they all said in unison.

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

On November 10th, Fanboy hit up his favorite movie theater for throwback night. They were showing Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, one of his all-time favorites.

He settled in with his bucket of popcorn, ready to enjoy the film. But then disaster struck. Maybe it was because he'd already gone too long without masturbating, or maybe it was because she was just so hot, but as soon as he saw Princess Leia in her golden, slave bikini, he was rock hard.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, still hard by the time the movie ended. He had to hold the popcorn bucket in front of his shorts on the way to his car. "Okay, pull it together, man." But by the time he got back to his apartment, he was panting and in pain.

"I can't make it!" he said, carefully taking his shorts off and touching himself. The relief was immediate, but the disappointment he felt would surely linger.

The next day on the tarmac, he told the others, "It was the damn bikini! It had me in its sights, and I didn't stand a chance! I could have made it through The Empire Strikes Back, no problem! I should have known better!"

Hangman, Rooster, Bob and Payback all sized each other up. Shit was getting real.

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

By November 15th, Rooster estimated he'd gone down on his girlfriend about a hundred times so far this month. This wouldn't have been a problem for him at all, except now his jaw was starting to ache, and she was desperately trying to reciprocate.

"You're so good, baby," she moaned as she came on his face.

Rooster gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms. "Anything for you, honey," he grunted. God, he was painfully hard, and now she was crawling across the bed toward him.

"You want me to go down on you now?" she asked, reaching for his shorts.

"No! Tonight is all about you!" he practically yelled at her.

She pouted a bit. "You've been saying that for weeks, Rooster. And now you're acting really weird. I want to make you feel good too."

"No! Ummm, let me finger you instead!" he shouted. "Lay down, honey. I got you."

But two nights later, he was outmaneuvered by her. As soon as she came from the pleasure his fingers and mouth provided, Rooster was rubbing his throbbing jaw and trying to think about something un-sexy. But she lunged for his boxers, pulled them down and ran her tongue along his dick.

"Honey, no!" he groaned, but it felt too good. Two more strokes of her tongue, and Rooster was panting and spurting his cum all over her face.

She looked up at him in shock. "That was fast."

Rooster paced around the gym on base the next day. "I'm out, okay? I'm out." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "I swear I tried my best! Plus I think I have permanent damage to my jaw! It's aching from how many times I went down on her!"

Payback cocked his head. "But if you were avoiding intercourse, how are you out?"

Rooster looked slightly crazed now. "She licked me! She licked me three times and I came all over the fucking place! And now she's concerned that I should talk to my doctor about premature ejaculation! I was out there in the trenches, fighting for my life, and now she thinks I have a disorder!"

The guys all nodded in solemn understanding.

Phoenix cracked up. "You're all idiots, I swear."

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

Payback had been so careful. He really wanted that gold star. It was November 28th, and he was feeling optimistic about his chances of winning.

"I've got this," he announced, bragging while playing pool at the Hard Deck. "The gold star is mine, dickheads."

Bob and Hangman would cave. He just knew it.

Then the cutest girl he'd ever seen started hitting on him. "Can I buy you a drink?" she asked shyly, and he was putty in her hands.

An hour later they were kissing next to the jukebox. An hour after that, she was touching him under his shirt.

"Okay, I'm out guys! I had a good run! See you tomorrow!" he announced merrily as he left the bar with her.

"Saw that coming from a mile away," Hangman drawled, sinking the eight ball. He knew he would make it to December 1st, because he knew he was mentally stronger than the rest of them. He prided himself on it.

So Hangman went to bed that night with a satisfied smile on his face. He woke up the next morning with a mess in his sheets.

He didn't even want to show his face at work, and he considered calling out sick. He managed to make it almost all the way out onto the tarmac by his F/A-18 when Payback and the others cornered him.

"You're looking really suspicious, man," Payback accused. "You're out, aren't you?"

Hangman nodded hoping to quickly steer the topic elsewhere. "Yes, I'm out. Congratulations, Bob. You win the gold star, man."

Bob pumped his fist in the air, and the rest congratulated him on his nutless month.

But it was with untrusting eyes that Rooster turned back toward Hangman, who was trying to sneak up the ladder into his aircraft. "Hey, Hangman! How did you get eliminated?"

"It's not important," he mumbled in response.

"Come on, everyone else admitted to how they got out," Rooster replied. "Couldn't be worse than ejaculating after a tongue touched you for approximately two seconds."

"Couldn't be worse than getting hard to Star Wars," Fanboy chimed in with a self-deprecating smile.

Hangman cradled his head in his hand. "Ihadawetdream."

Phoenix howled and bent in half laughing, but the guys all stepped a little closer to hear him better. "Sorry, you what?" asked Coyote.

"I had a wet dream!" Hangman shouted. "Okay? Happy now?"

And now the guys were howling along with Phoenix.

"Yes, hilarious," Hangman drawled. "How did you manage to win, Bob?"

Bob smiled serenely at everyone. "Oh, I practice mindful meditation for stress relief. Plus, my wife has been in Europe for work all month, so it was quite easy."

Bob jumped back as the guys all shouted at him in bewilderment. "You're married?!"

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

This fic is ridiculous!

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#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman fic #rooster fic #top gun imagine #no nut november

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

Spring in Fall

Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.

If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.

Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.

He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.

The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.

Then why was he so on edge?

“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.

“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.

Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.

Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.

“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.

“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.

“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”

Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.

“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.

“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”

Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.

“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”

“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.

As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.

He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.

Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.

“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.

“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.

“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.

“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N’ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.

“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.

“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.

“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.

“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.

“Smell what?” Rich asked.

“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.

The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.

Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.

“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.

“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.

“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”

Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.

“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.

“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.

“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.

It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.

Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.

“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.

“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.

“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.

“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.

Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.

Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.

“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.

“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.

“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.

“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.

Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.

Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer.

Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.

“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.

“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#jacklesversebingo #spring in fall #omegaverse #alpha!jensen ackles x omega!female reader #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen ackles fluff #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #a/b/o

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tinydefector · 10 days

Text

MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

The Scientist

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working.

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar.

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made .

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him.

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny.

Cyclonus and Tailgate

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking.

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from.

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him,

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows.

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache.

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl.

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there.

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes.

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it.

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for.

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look.

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung.

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod.

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying.

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic, quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish.

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things.

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is.

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads.

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby.

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap.

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it.

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names.

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time.

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is.

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions.

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together.

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage.

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas.

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly.

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about.

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge.

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️.

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients.

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship.

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for.

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him.

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won.

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd.

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron.

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there.

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off.

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him.

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake.

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once.

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters.

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy.

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests.

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves.

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers.

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames.

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl.

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology.

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll.

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus.

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm.

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted".

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety.

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings.

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him.

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up.

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms.

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot.

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime.

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand.

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state.

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid.

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ozarkthedog · 7 months

Text

summary: dieter insists you try some of his stash.

kinktober i: drug use

warnings: 18+ only. mdni. morally gray!dieter bravo x fem assistant!reader. slight dubcon. drug use (coke). coercion. fingering. oral sex (fem receiving). cumming untouched. no beta.

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i've had this thot since i saw the movie. sry not sry. “disaster racoon” via @ghotifishreads 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“C’mere, pretty girl, want you to try something.” Dieter beckons from a dimly lit corner of his suite.

The hotel door makes a deafening thud as it shuts. The supple carpet feels divine on your bare feet but the dark gold color palette of the room along with the heady smell unsettles you.

He sinks into the lush couch with a sigh draped in a brown fur coat. He looks rough around the edges. Long days on set with nothing to do in between takes have taken a toll on him.

He leans over a glass coffee table that’s littered with sordid paraphernalia and snatches a small, black vile. In his haste, he knocks over a bottle filled with tiny pills sending them rolling in different directions.

“Shit-” He scrambles to catch them as they roll off the table and onto the rug below. He waves his hand dismissively at the floor and sends you a quirky smile. “We’ll find ‘em when we need ‘em.”

You politely smile before shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You were unsure why the Oscar winner had invited you up to his room. You’d chatted with him a few times since the movie began production but not to the point where you thought you should be alone with him.

Constantly shifting your eyes from the illusive man to the carpet and back again. He hums a tune you’ve never heard as he taps out the contents of the black vile. The melody sticks like molasses in your brain.

Dieter taps a little mound of white onto one of the various script edits before flicking his eyes up to you. He ponders for a moment, his eyes blinking slowly behind his dark brown shades before he snaps back to reality.

He points to the small pile of powder with a grin, “Have you ever tried this?”

“What is it?” You eye him suspiciously.

He slowly licks his lips as they pull into a sly grin, “Cocaine.”

“Uh, no. I don’t do drugs.” You answer, hugging your arms around yourself.

He tuts and cocks his head. “That’s a shame. They’re really fun.”

Wariness slinks up your spine as he bends his head to the script and snorts loudly, sucking up some of the power in one inhale before collapsing back onto the couch. A deep, satisfied groan rumbles from his bare chest as his fur coat splays open and exposes his almost naked body aside from his gray boxers.

You gather up the nerve to speak after a few uncomfortable, silent minutes. “Did you call me up here for a reason, Mr. Bravo?”

“Wanted someone to keep me company.” He drawls, rubbing a hand through his auburn curls. “That’s not so bad is it?” He flashes his teeth in a silly grin before sitting up suspiciously fast.

“C'mere. Try it.” He offers, pointing to the script. “Got all night to let loose.”

“I don’t think so.” You softly reply. You curse yourself for not sounding stronger.

“Come on. One lil’ sniff.”

“Dieter, please.” You bite your tongue in frustration.

But he was right. You did need to let loose. The director told you to take some time for yourself when they weren’t filming. But doing drugs with Dieter Bravo of all people? You didn’t see that as a part of your self care routine.

Still. The itch to unwind and have fun called to you.

You sigh through your nose and give one last vain attempt. “I don’t feel comfortable inhaling your script coke.” You say dismissively, waving a careless hand at the table.

“There is another way…” He trails off with a smirk, like a cat that got the cream. His eyes slink down your body and narrow in on your hands that are folded perfectly in your lap.

“Lie back and spread your legs.” Dieter says with a tilt of his head as he shuffles from his seat and kneels on the ground next to you.

Your mind short circuits. “Excuse me?” You gasp, incredulously.

He quirks a brow. “You didn’t want to snort it, so your bloodstream is the next best option.”

Another gasp tears from your throat. “You mean?”

“That’s right.” He raises his hand, wiggling 2 thick fingers in front of your face. “I’ll push a tiny bit of the coke into your pussy.” He says, nonchalantly before continuing. “Takes a bit longer but you should start feeling really good in about half an hour.”

Nervous laughter bubbles up your throat. Not only were you considering doing drugs with Dieter, now the award winning actor was going to finger you too.

“Come on. It’s just a little bit of coke.” He emphasizes with a pinch of his fingers. “You need a break. I can see it on that pretty face of yours. You’re begging to break free.”

Great. This disaster racoon of a man could read you like a book. This is just what you needed.

You grit your teeth but succumb to the pressure of the handsome man. “Fine. Whatever. Let��s just do this.”

Dieter snickers and claps his hands together. “Thatta girl!”

You sink into the oversized chair with your heart in your throat and pray you survive the night.

The older man tenderly slides his hands up your bare legs, drawing patterns where your skirt meets your thighs before pushing the thin material up exposing your panties.

You lock eyes with him as his fingers dance over the soft cotton. Dragging out the inevitable, and driving you crazy, he finally slides your panties down and pockets the fabric without you noticing.

Dieter takes a long beat to stare at your exposed core. He makes no attempt at hiding his gaze before sending you a wink. “This’ll be fun.”

You swallow down the anxious lump in your throat and try to relax into the plush cushion.

Dieter gently drags his fingers up the naked seam of you before teasing one finger between your folds. Duel moans fill the room as he swiftly adds a second heavy finger into your channel, opening you up for him.

He thrusts lazily into your core, getting his fingers nice and wet with your shiny slick. Your eyes open when your core suddenly feels empty and watch him roll those two same sticky fingers in a small pile of coke.

“Ready?” He asks as he turns back to his place between your legs.

Your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips before sending him a nod.

“I’ve got you.” He reassures with a fond tone.

He parts your folds with his other hand and slowly presses his drug coated fingers into your warmth. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out and his knuckles are seated against the rump of your ass.

Dieter hisses when you involuntarily clench. “Shit–”

“Sorry. Can’t help it.” You mumble, trying to stay as still as possible despite having an A-List Actor literally pump drugs into you.

“Don’t be.” He purrs and starts thrusting his fingers in and out ever so slowly.

Your breath hitches as he slides his fingers along your velvet channel. The pressure tugs deep in your belly and you can’t help but mewl under his touch.

“Is this part of it?” You squeak as he slots the pad of his thumb over your clit and swirls tight circles over the tiny button.

“The quicker you relax the better you’ll feel.” He insists as he watches his fingers disappear between your dripping folds.

You notice behind his shades that his pupils are blown wide and he looks just as wrecked as you. Dieter groans when your hips rise and chase his touch, greedy for more.

“Feelin’ good, pretty girl?”

The older man grazes a spot that sucks the air from your lungs. You writhe on the chair and wrap your legs around his broad shoulders before you realize what you’re doing.

Your blood boils and turns to raspberry jam as the drug begins to take effect. Every nerve in your body shimmers and you feel like you can run a marathon and fly at the same time.

Your shirt feels tight and restrictive. The room feels 10x hotter than it did when you first arrived. In a rush, you yank your blouse off your body and sink back into the chair with only your bra remaining as the air cools your sweltering flesh.

“Fuck, Dieter.” You rasp as the pleasure mounts.

“That’s it. Let the drug work its magic.” He breaks free from your legs, sliding his fingers out from your warmth. You whine from the loss and he playfully tsks at you.

“Hold still, pretty girl. Don’t wanna make a mess.” He smothers your exposed core with a heavy palm coated in white. “Perfect, puffy pussy. All ripe and juicy.” He groans before slotting his searing mouth over your core.

You moan wantonly as he eats you alive. He’s like a man untamed as he licks from your wet puckered hole to your throbbing clit. His tongue finds every white morsel and swallows it down along with your slick. He teases your opening with his tongue before pushing into your heat and groaning into your folds.

Your fingers dig into his messy curls as you ride out your pleasure on his

face. His mustache tickles your tiny nub eliciting silken bliss to race up your spine.

“Come in my mouth, pretty girl. Wanna feel you fall apart.” He says, tearing himself away from your drenched core for a moment before diving back in like a man who's gone without water for days.

At his words your brain shuts down. The surge of adrenaline mixed with lust fogs your senses and you drown in mind numbing pleasure.

You come with a ragged wail, humping Dieter’s face like it was your last act in this world. A deep, ravenous growl rumbles in his chest and his fingers dig into your thighs as his body shakes between your legs. He greedily swallows down the heady mix of your slick and the drug, lapping up every drop he can.

“Dieter, that was-” You search for the right words but they elude you. Your nerves feel like they're being pumped full of sunlight and it distracts you. All you can do is sigh and catch your breath.

Your eyes whip open when you hear the man curse. “What is it?” Everything alright?”

The lower half of his face is shiny with hints of white nestled in the corners of his mouth. “Came in my goddamn boxers.” He grumbles.

You can’t help but laugh as he drags you off the chair and into his lap. He wraps his fur coat around your naked frame and nuzzles your head into his chest.

“See? Drugs aren’t so bad.” Dieter quips.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌 send me mail

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#dieter bravo #morally grey!dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #kinktober 2023 #pedro pascal

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lukehughes43 · 1 year

Text

no time for goodbyes - luke hughes

word count: 4,282

a/n: so this is technically the first installment of the coug!read x luke seeing as I still haven't finished the other fic, or even started the fic that is the beginning of coug!luke. but I was in my feels last night, so please enjoy this heart wrenching fic🫶🏼

the night had started to wind down for everyone in the sophomore house the minute you had gotten back from student teaching. the boys being exhausted from a monday afternoon practice, and you being exhausted from chasing around six-year-olds for eight hours straight. when your five sophomore hockey players walked through the front door a little after four o’clock they found you passed out on the couch, still dressed in your blue and white checkered and a plain white tee. luke was in charge of carrying you up the stairs to your room so mark and eddy’s disaster of cooking dinner wouldn’t wake you from a much-needed rest.

you woke up an hour or so later by lightly shaking you awake. mumbling a soft, “marky and eddy made dinner for us, coug.” to which immediately woke you up based on the fact the last time mark and eddy tried making dinner you almost no longer had a house due a kitchen fire. you stumbled around the practically empty bedroom, minus the boxes stacked up in the corners, before groggily booking it down the stairs to make sure everyone was still alive.

when you ran into the kitchen and dining room area the other four were seated around the dining table in their unofficial seats, smiles on their faces waiting for you to finally join them in order to have one of the last meals together as a found family. after practice tomorrow they were departing to the airport right from yost in order to get on the plane to tampa. meaning that this was it. this was the last meal with all five of them together as once michigan was done so was luke. he was to board a plane straight from tampa to newark and the last two years at michigan would officially be in the books for the youngest hughes brother. leaving you in a house full of four other hockey boys until it was your turn to join luke in jersey after april 28th: graduation day.

“you guys made family dinner,” you smiled as the bittersweet words left your mouth. not yet wanting to believe that this was the end of the cherry on top of your time at michigan. “and you didn’t even burn the house down. i’m so proud of you.”

there was a chorus of laughter that filled your ears before luke pulled your seat out for you. once he pushed you in all the way he took his seat to the left of you, sitting so he was for the last time eating a meal between two of his favorite people - you and dylan. the conversation between bites of the steak, mashed potatoes, and caesar salad was almost nonexistent. everyone in an unspoken agreement to just sit there and soak it all in. of course small talk was eventually made as mackie made you a glass of wine, claiming that it was well deserved even though it was only monday. he knew how hard you were taking everything, you may not have told him directly, but he knew. all of the boys knew. while this was luke’s last week of college hockey, it was also the last week everything would be semi-normal regarding your relationship. the nhl and the demanding schedule an obvious looming fear to both of you.

the conversation died out after hearing how practice went and the six year olds who had crushes on you found out you would be leaving them soon. and soon one by one all of you dismissed yourself from the table. mark being first, trying to get out of dish duty. eddy followed second, taking everyone’s dishes as he went. dylan sprinted away afterwards as if filming a monday questions video. leaving mackie, youself, and luke. you were the next to fall, not wanting to be, but ultimately knowing you had too much to do in order to prepare for missing all of your classes thursday and friday in order to be in tampa. your left hand squeezed luke’s right, as your right hand ran over the discolored wooden table. “‘ve gotta head up, lukey,” you whispered over to him. a sad smile taking over your face while you stared at him as you tried to read the expression on his face. praying his blue eyes would give you a little insight into what he was thinking. he hummed before turning to look at you. “get out of my work clothes, shower,” you then explained. “go through your bags to make sure you have everything.”

the last part earned a laugh from mackie seeing as he had done the same for both mark and eddy. duker being too stubborn not allowing anyone to double check for him. “goodnight y/n/n, see you tomorrow?” mackie asked with a hopeful smile.

shaking your head you frowned, “i’ve got school.” instantly the rain cloud that had a hold over the room became even heavier at your words. “i won’t see you guys until thursday. i’m in the middle of teaching during the send-off, and since i’m already missing thursday and friday…” you trailed off at the end, not having the heart to speak anymore. too afraid that you would break down in the middle of the dining room if you did.

“i get it,” mackie answered with a sweet smile. “we’ll see you thursday, mom.”

nodding your head you turned your attention back to your boyfriend. “i’ll be up soon, cougy,” he mumbled, eyes meeting your for a split second before he looked back at the table. the use of ‘cougy’ instead of ‘coug’ was what tipped you off to what was going on inside of his head. he was reaching his emotional breaking point.

“okay, lu.” he leaned down and pressed a kiss against the top of his curls before turning to look back at mackie, “night macks. take care of everyone for me until thursday, yeah?” he gave you a final salute and that’s when you started your terk upstairs to the empty bedroom once more. it made your heart heavy to walk into a room that was normally so full of life, reflecting yours and luke’s personalities, packed away into boxes like it had been since the end of the big ten tournament. between preparing for regionals, classes, and student teaching luke and you were busy packing up your lives at the mere fact that his season could’ve ended two weeks ago meaning you had to be prepared in case that was to happen.

you let out a deep sigh and walked into the empty room, slowly closing the door behind you so nobody could hear as your walls came crashing down faster than you could piece them together. the shower was where you choose to break down for the night. already knowing that luke would leave you to yourself once he came into the room since he had showered at yost after practice, and knew you needed this time to decompress. so that’s exactly what you did. you sat under the scolding hot water letting the tears stream down your face as you silently sobbed over your college life that was coming to an end. over this being luke’s last week as a michigan wolverine. at how after his nhl debut you wouldn’t see him again until graduation, something you needed to bring up to him and talk about as the devils would be in the playoffs and there was no way you’d let him miss anything hockey related just to watch you walk across a stage.

when you finally got out of your depression shower, luke was already camped out in your bed. the comforter was pooled around his waist, his bare chest on full display for you. just waiting for you to climb in next to him. “how was your shower, coug?” his voice was tight as he asked the question, and you wondered if this was when it finally happened. if this was the moment luke finally allowed himself to come to terms with the whirlwind of emotions he was currently experiencing.

“it was nice,” you answered honestly. “helped me clear my mind.” right away you knew luke would understand what you were getting about. slightly hoping that he would take it as a subtle hint that he too could confess everything he was going through to you. instead, all you got back from him was a small hum of acknowledgment, eyes downcast on his phone screen. after changing into your pajamas which consisted of luke’s boxers and a worn-out ntdp t-shirt, you crawled into bed next to him. arms immediately wrapping around his torso, head falling against his chest. “i never got around to looking through your bag to make sure you have everything,” you said to break the silence of the room. “i’m not that worried though,” you added on, “i mean everything you needed was the only things you could pack. you just have to remember your chargers in the morning before you go to practice. i can text you in the morning to remind you if you want.”

when luke didn’t answer you thought maybe he had fallen asleep. it wouldn’t have been the first time the worn out hockey player fell asleep while in the middle of a conversation with you. only that wasn’t the case this time. you could feel from underneath its resting place as his heart rate began to increase. his breathing beginning to follow in it’s footsteps. “hey lukey, baby, we gotta sit up. can you sit up for me?” you asked, already knowing what was about to happen. luke was on the verge of a panic attack, everything hitting him all at once. the packed boxes. the final practice at yost is tomorrow. an elc in his future.

“‘m okay,” he choked out between ragged breaths. “just, just stay here. just lay here.” you knew he was referring to you staying situated on his chest, feeling the safest when he had you cuddled up on top of him.

shaking your head you propped yourself up instantly. throwing your legs on either side of his waist in order to straddle his lap. “no, no luke i need you to sit up for me. okay? can you do that for me, baby?” you asked while staring down at him. his eyes were screwed shut, knowing that if he had them open you would be able to see how red and puffy they were. his final moments of sitting at the kitchen table after family dinner ended causing everything to hit him like a freight truck. “luke, i’ve got you,” you whispered, hands cupping his cheeks, “but i need, you have to sit up for me. please.” you were disparately pulling him into a sitting position, letting his head fall against your chest. his arms wrapping around your waist in a bone-crushing hug. “i’ve got you. i have you, lukey. it’s okay. i’m right here. you’re safe. just, just get it out. deep breathes.” your words were muttered into the top of his curls, as you soothingly ran a hand up and down his back. the other laced in the curls at the nape of his neck. “i love you. i’m here. you’re okay. i’ve got you, lukey.”

“i- i, i start playing in the nhl as soon as saturday,” he finally spoke. voice cracking as he did so, his breathing slowly coming back to a normal rhythm. “tomorrow… tomorrow’s my last ever practice at yost. tonight was the last family dinner.” you could feel your own heart breaking all over again at his words. shattering even more so as you knew there was nothing you could say or do to make things better. “our fucking bedroom has been packed up to leave for two weeks!” his hold on you got tighter with each realization. your presence being enough to ground him in this instance for him to get all of his emotions out before it was too late. “cougy, this is it. it’s my final week of college hockey.” it took all the strength in his body to force his head up to look at you. his blue eyes as clear as glass due to the tears that were pouring down his cheeks. “my final week of seeing you every single day until i retire, which will be what? like ten-fifteen years from now?”

you squeezed your eyes shut in order to prevent the tears from slipping out. forehead dipping down to rest against his, “it’ll be okay, lukey. we’re going to make this work. you have to take the good and the bad. that’s what you’ve been telling me since january right?” just barely his forehead moved against yours in a nodding motion. “plus it’s me and you, honey. me and you no matter what.”

“you and me,” he whispered against your lips. you could taste the salt from his tears that were staining his cracked lips with every word he spoke. “but coug, i just. this is it. it’s over. and, and i don’t even get to say goodbye to you tomorrow. you’ll be gone before i wake up, and i won’t see you until thursday. and - and if we lose it’ll be for nothing.”

“it won’t be for nothing, luke warren,” you corrected with a pointed look. “everything you’ve done, everything i’ve chosen to do in order to watch you play this year has not been for nothing, luke. i do it because i love you. because there is nobody out there more proud of you than me,” you confessed with a small smile, “just don’t tell your parents i said that.” your little jab jim and ellen caused a small smile to grace luke’s face as well. “if you lose on thursday, which you’re not going too, then we get on a plane and we go to jersey. you get on the team plane and go to boston, and i’ll fly out with your parents. we’ll be there for you first ever fucking nhl game, and i’ll be there standing and waiting for you. tears streaming down my face just like after you scored your hat trick. you know why?”

he shook his head, “no. why?”

“becuase i love you,” you answered. “because the last three years of my life have been the best years of my life because i’ve spent them loving you. officially i mean. but what you’re feeling right now luke? it’s normal. it’s healthy. it means that we have met some incredible people who we are so lucky to have in our lives. people that are always going to be there for us, no matter what happens in the future.”

he let out a shaky breathe while he let his eyes meet yours once more. “you graduate college in twenty-five days. and then you’re mine. in jersey, and everything will be okay again. i’ll be there to watch you walk across the stage, and then we’re together, never apart again.”

your heart was in your throat at his words, knowing that there was no better time to bring this up than right now. “about graduation, lu, you’re going to be in the playoffs. as much as i want you there, you can’t be if you have something hockey related. especially if you have a game scheduled for it.” the way his arms loosened around your waist is how you knew you struck a nerve within the nineteen-year-old. “i just! having our parents there will be enough for me. and as soon as the ceremony ends we can have a devils watch party at your house! cheering on my favorite boy, and my best friend.”

luke’s face hardened with every passing second. not at all thrilled by what you had said. “i’m not missing your college graduation, y/n,” he grumbled, clearly frustrated by the fact you had suggested such an outrageous thing. “you realize you’re the only one of us whose’s going to graduate college and have a degree, right?” by that you knew he was referring to quinn, jack, himself and you. the four of you being thick as thieves since you grew up next to each other. you and jack have been best friends since your shared birthday, as well as the fact your mothers were best friends. “how could i miss that? miss the love of my life getting her degree that she’s worked her ass off for the past four years to get it? no, absolutely not. i’m coming to graduation on the twenty-eighth. game or no game. end of discussion.”

it was no secret to either of you that you had more to say on the topic, but you knew when luke was set on something he was going to do it so you dropped it. “okay, you’re coming to graduation. but as soon as it’s over we’re getting on the first flight newark, got it?”

“got it, coug,” he agreed with a smile growing on his face. his head dropped back to rest against your chest once more. his tears pooling into the already wet fabric. “do you think i - i mean, do you think we can do it this week. win the natty? push my rookie game back until the eleventh?”

“of course i think you can do it, moosey,” you answered with nothing but certainty. “there’s nothing you guys can’t do. you know that.”

he let out the breath that he was holding in. nuzzling his head further into the cotton fabric that smelled just like you. “i’m sorry i acted like the world was falling apart tonight. it’s just, i never thought we’d actually get to this point,” luke confided in you. “it always seemed so far away, like we’d never actually make it to this day. but now it’s here, and i feel like there’s still so much i haven’t done with the guys. so much i haven’t done with you, coug.”

you dropped your head to rest against his fluffy curls, taking a deep breath in to smell his shampoo and conditioner. “don’t apologize my sweet boy,” you cooed, kissing the top of his head. “i mean i just broke down in the shower before you got in here. it’s okay, i promise you. it’s a little scary, yes, but you have nothing to regret, lukey. you have left such an incredible impact on everyone here and mich, and you’re going to be so fucking missed. fuck, i’m going to miss you those two weeks before i get to see you at graduation.”

“don’t remind me about that,” he groaned, head diving forward so you were now laying on your back and he was on top of you. a squeal left your mouth from the action, cradling his head closer to your chest. “those two weeks are literally going to be hell, cougy. we’ve never been apart for that long before.” humming you ran your hands through his hair. trying to find the right words in order to try and calm his nerves about it. “are you going to be able to survive without me for that long, y/n/n?”

“god no, lukey. how am i supposed to fall asleep in an empty room with you not here to hold me?”

you could feel the frown form on his face through the t-shirt. “i’ll call you every single night. make sure that you get to sleep. no matter how much jack chirps me, i don’t care. and if, you know, the depression gets a little too much in those two weeks, just go climb into bed with duker. or make a bed in mackie’s room.”

a cold shiver ran through your body at the thought of you sleeping in the same bed as dylan. of course, it’s something you’d done before with him being your college best friend. sometimes it was because he needed to comfort of someone other than his boys, someone who would actually listen to what he was feeling and try and help him through it. other times it would be because luke was busy and you were on the verge of crumbling apart. it was in those times dylan would make it a mandate you slept in his room where he could keep an eye on you before luke got home. in fact, you’ve slept in every room of the sophomore house. taking turns making sure your college children weren’t sad or just being there in case they needed the gentle loving that only you could offer them. “ew absolutely not!” you laughed. luke’s head tilting up to look at you with a smile. “i don’t want to step foot in that room. we don’t know what goes on in there anymore. it’s definitely highly unsanitary.”

a chuckle fell past luke’s lips before he rested his head in the crook of your neck. his breath fanning against your skin, lips just barely grazing the skin there. “you could always have him sleep in here.”

you shrugged your shoulders. “i was thinking about just going home,” you mumbled, almost as if you were scared to admit that you wanted to spend the last two weeks of your college career in either yours or luke’s childhood bedroom. “i love the boys, and i love being here. but i just, i feel like it might be better for me to stay at home. i mean i’ll have your parents, my parents. being here just won’t be the same without you, lukey.”

the sudden confession you had just made was pulling on luke’s heartstrings. “would you drive to school and teaching?” you nodded your head ever so slightly, eyes growing heavy with each passing second. the physical and emotional exhaustion finally hitting you once more. “you could always take my car too if you wanted. just so you’re not constantly using your own.”

yawning you smiled, “i was already planning on it, lukey.” your eyes were closed when luke looked back up at you, and he could feel as your breathing began to even out from underneath him. “i love you, luke.”

multiple kisses were pressed against the skin of your neck and jaw, pulling a smile on the corners of your lips. “i love you too, y/n/n. get some sleep, okay, cougy? i’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow.” and with that you drifted off to sleep for the final time in a full sophomore house.

when you woke up in the morning to the sound of your alarm part of you was confused as to how your phone got in the room seeing you don’t remember ever grabbing it off the coffee table after your post-school nap. only to remember that luke thought of everything when it came to you and without a doubt brought it up when he came up from dinner. reluctantly you carefully slid yourself out from under the dead weight that was luke’s sleeping body in order to get ready. grabbing a throw blanket you carefully tucked him in, allowing him the chance to sleep in until his own alarm went off to start his day.

getting ready you were stuck in a whirlwind of emotions as you remembered you wouldn’t see any of the boys until thursday morning, having chosen to surprise them by flying out wednesday night rather than thursday morning like you originally told them all. once dressed and ready to make your way to the elementary school you were student teaching at you sat down at your desk, slipping on your cartier ring luke had gifted you along with the necklace that adorned his favorite nickname. your attention then turned to the post-it note stack, maize yellow of course. grabbing the navy blue pen you had resting beside it you scribbled out two final notes for your boyfriend and the boys you considered your children.

lukey, i love you so incredibly much i’ll see you on thursday. you’re going to do amazing this week, take it all in. text me when your boarding and when you land. i’ll meet you in tampa, moosey. me and you, sweet boy. - coug<3

after writing both notes you stuck luke’s against his phone he had plugged in on his bed side table. running back to press a kiss against his cheek. a smile pulling on his feature even though he was sleeping. “i love you, lukey,” you then whispered into his ear. kissing the top of his head one last time before you carefully slipped out of your bedroom. the next and final stop in the early morning hours of the house was the front door. you were frozen as you stood there waiting to walk out, knowing if you didn’t leave now you would be late to school after running to starbucks. so you forced yourself to put the final note up on the door.

to my hughes wedding bridal party, make sure you have absolutely everything- CHARGERS!!! now that thats out of the way, know that win or lose i’m always going to be proud of you guys. thank you for the past year, there’s nobody else i would want to life willingly with. i’ll see you in tampa! love you guys. - coug… aka mom<3

you stared at the note for a minute longer than what was necessary, tearing beginning to well in your eyes before you forced yourself to open the front door. taking a deep breath you pulled it closed behind you, as well as closing the door on the last four years of life.

#my writing #umich imagine #umich #umich hockey #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #coug!reader #coug luke #usa hockey #ntdp #new jersey devils #my works #dylan duke #ethan edwards #mackie samoskevich #mark estapa #2023 ncaa hockey tourney

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justmeinadaze · 8 months

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In Your Corner Part 2 (Steve X Plus Sized Reader)

A/N: Boxer Steve still resides in my brain and I wouldn't mind him taking care of me rn <3

Warnings: Boxer Daddy Dom Steve X plus sized Sub fem reader, SMUT, light choking, spanking, dirty talk, more of a softer Steve in this one, FLUFF (they love each other), ANGST, reader has a rough day and Steve is trying to make her feel better.

Word Count: 3516

Steve came in from training that afternoon to an abnormally quiet home. Usually, if you didn’t meet him at the gym after work, you would be watching tv or reading on the couch with some music on.

“Baby?”

After doing the obligatory scan around the living room and back patio, he headed for the bedroom finding you curled up under the blankets in bed. He crawled in behind you and without hesitation you folded into him as you took hold of his hand, placing it under your cheek. You love this side of him just as much as the rough and rugged side. The soft, doting man that wanted to make sure you were happy.

“What’s going on, baby girl?”, he whispered.

“I just had a long day. This new client we’re working with is an imbecile and then my dad was being a jerk. That mixed with other things one right after the other… I needed a moment.” You felt him nod in understanding before gently placing kisses along your shoulder making you giggle. “You are still so sweaty.”

“You like it.” Playfully, you fight against him as he tries to use your shirt like one of his gym towels as you laugh louder, rolling over to face him. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we take a shower, get dressed, and we’ll go see a movie. Get some dinner afterwards.”

After kissing his lips, you press your face into his chest, inhaling him as you hold him closer. You never knew what it was about him but when you had a bad day or just felt down, you allowed yourself to let go and enter this particular side of that little girl headspace. You had never done that with anyone else and would always insist that you could take care of yourself. Hell, you had done it most of your life.

The first time you had an off day in the beginning of your relationship, you shut down and disappeared. A few hours later, he knocked on your door with the intention of punishing you but as soon as he saw your face his anger faded. Steve spent the rest of the evening on the floor in your living room, making you laugh and sharing a delicious, gigantic pizza with you.

“This isn’t going to ruin your training, is it?”

“What do you mean, honey?”

“I mean with the pizza and beer. Don’t boxers have to be at a certain weight?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters to me is that beautiful smile returning to your face.”

“Steve…”

“Y/N, don’t ever be afraid to tell me when something is wrong, ok? No matter what it is. I would rather take care of you or if it involves me have us talk it out than have you disappear again.”’

“I’m sorry. It’s just…how I handle my stress. I let it all build until I implode. I struggle with letting go like that. I’ve always taken care of myself, you know?”

“I know, baby, but I’m here to help.” Steve scooted closer to you, propping up on his elbow till his lips were below yours. “Let Daddy take care of you.”

From that moment on, you did and were completely surprised with how easy it was or maybe he just made it that easy.

“You’re too sweaty.”, he mimicked in your voice making you giggle as you pushed him away and rolled out of bed.

“Come on, Daddy. Let’s get ready.”

###########

“Oh my god, Steve Harrington. You know me too well.”, you grin as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I was going to ask you about it when I got home anyway so it was perfect.”

Every week the local Hawkins cinema would play a movie that wasn’t normally out in theaters and this weeks showing was “Shaun of the Dead.” You loved any kind of disaster fueled film especially if it left you laughing and Steve knew you needed that more than anything right now.

Another thing you loved about him was how much genuine attention he paid to you and what you said. Like with his career, he spent a great deal of time studying you even now to make sure you were happy or to avoid making you sad. The first time you noticed it was when he went with you to the mall a couple of weeks after you started dating.

His gorgeous honey eyes kept track of everything your hand grazed or anything you pointed to that made you smile. When you entered a makeup section that’s when he started asking questions.

“Wait so why this brand instead of that one? Are they different colors or?”

“Not exactly. This brand here feels better on my face whereas this one kind of feels cakey.”

“Cakey?”

You grin as you reach for his hand and grab both the sample bottles, dapping each one on his skin. His eyes meet yours as he softly smiles and you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips.

“Ah, ok. I feel it now. Cakey.” Giggling, you wipe his hand with a wet wipe as you continue explaining different products to him.

A week later he surprised you with a little bag of gifts including that makeup and some other things he’d thought you’d like from that store.

What you didn’t know was Steve enjoyed listening to you explain things to him. You always got so animated if it was a subject you enjoyed and, personally, he loved that you didn’t talk down to him or make him feel stupid. Even when he was explaining something to you he felt like he wasn’t making any sense or sounding like a moron but you never reacted that way.

The first time he really broke down boxing for you, he ended almost every sentence with “Does that make sense?” To which you would nod and ask him a follow up question.

After purchasing some snacks, you made your way to the theater and as soon as you both took your seats, he wrapped his arm around you as you curled up closer to his side.

“This was a good idea, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course, honey. I love you.

As the movie played he relished every giggle and laugh that left your lips. Seeing you happy was like a drug to him. The same adrenaline high he got after a fight was the same thing he felt when he was able to make you smile especially after a rough day.

############

“I don’t feel like we’re dressed fancy enough to be here.”

“Sweetie, this is down the street from Enzos where people go in sweatpants. I think we’re ok.”, Steve chuckles. “But at least you’re wearing a dress. I’m the one in jeans.”

“Here you go, ma’am—”

“Oh, thank you but I didn’t order this.” You politely smile as the waiter placed a martini in front you.

“Yes ma’am. Compliments of the gentleman over at the bar.” He leans in lower so only you two would hear him. “I told them you were here with a gentleman of your own but he insisted.”

“It’s ok. Thank you. Can you give this to him and tell him even if I wasn’t here with my boyfriend I would rather die than except a drink from a smarmy asshole sitting alone at the bar?”

The waiter smirks as he nods, taking the drink with him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking sexy. Always loved that attitude.”, Steve grins as he grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss.

As you two continued with your dinner, you vented to him about your day and your new client at work. He growled under his breath when you mentioned your boss who did nothing to help make your job any easier. When you started talking about the conversation with your dad, however, he noticed you breeze past the topic.

“Hey, honey, wait now. What did your dad pick a fight with you about?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, babe. Just the usual stuff.”, you sighed.

Steve’s eyes narrowed in on you as he held your hand in his and kissed the back of it.

“It was about me again wasn’t it?” When you nodded your head, he knew. You could handle the chaos at your work and still be your feisty yet cheery self but when it came to your family especially your dad it always seemed to hit you hard.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t see you the way I do. I’ve told him your nothing like your dad or even how you were when we were growing up but…”

“Is that what the fight was about?”

“Steve…”

“Hey, it’s ok, baby girl. You know you can tell me anything.”

You sighed again as your sad eyes landed on his loving ones. “He thinks you’re going to hurt me. He said that if you were really serious about being with me…”, you shook your head in embarrassment.

“Then we’d be married by now?”

“Steve, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. I know you love me and I know when we are both ready we’ll take that step. I don’t think like he does. I—”

His tender, mint flavored lips cut you off as he interrupted your train of thought.

“Sweetheart, I’ve wanted to marry you since freshman year. I just know you deserve the best and I’ve been waiting for the right time you know?”

“What do you mean ‘the best’?”

“Well, when it comes to a wedding I know it has to be perfect. Perfect flowy dress with the veil and pretty flowers.”, he grins as he leans back in his chair and paints a picture with his hands making you smile. “Of course, obnoxiously poofy bridesmaid’s dresses and a BEAUTIFUL venue. Then after we can honeymoon anywhere you want. I’ve been thinking Italy or maybe Hawaii. I know you love the beaches and the clear water.”

Steve looks at you then with a soft smile as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“After that, I want us to be able to come home to a house with enough rooms for us to start a family. Somewhere you feel safe and happy.”

“As long as I’m with you, Steve Harrington, I feel safe and happy.”

Once you finish your meal, he quickly runs to the restroom while you wait for him by the door.

“I can take care of a beautiful woman like you if you let me.”

You roll your eyes at the asshole from the bar as he tries to get your attention.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Let me show you, honey.” The man stands and strides towards you as you raise your hand to stop him.

“I’m warning you now, honey. Sit back down and keep drinking before my boyfriend comes back and knocks you out. Trust me, he’s a boxer. He can and will.”

“Pfft like I’m afraid of that asshole.”

“Problem, baby?” Steve saunters out with confidence as you hand him his jacket you had been holding.

“I don’t know. IS there a problem?”, you ask the man sarcastically.

His eyes shift between you both before he shakes his head and turns away. “Fucking fat ass bitch.”

The man is forcefully turned around and met with a fist to his face. As he starts to tilt backwards Steve yanks him by the collar and turns him to face you.

“Apologize to the lady. NOW!”

“Jesus Christ! I’m sorry!”

“Mhmm.” You roll your eyes at him again before beaming at the man you love.

##########

The entire ride home was a blur of desperate touches and needy hands mostly from your side. As he drove, your hands ran up his thigh and over his chest into the V neck part of his shirt so your fingers could graze the hair on his chest. Your lips trailed along jawline down his throat as he groaned and did his best to keep his eyes open to get you home safely.

“I need you, Daddy. I can’t wait for us to get home so I can feel you inside of me and fill me up, baby. Fuck, Daddy, I’m so fucking wet. Please drive faster.”

Both of you practically fell into the apartment as you wrapped your arms around his neck and Steve walked you backwards with his lips attached to yours. Squeaking when the cold counter of the kitchen touched your back, you bit your bottom lip when he roughly turned you around and pushed your front half down on the granite.

Lifting the bottom of your dress, you moaned as his hand ran along the meat of your ass before firmly coming down to spank you. Ripping off your panties, he smacked your behind again but before you could react you felt the wind of him hastily kneeling and gasped when his tongue breached your folds.

“Yes, baby. O-Oh my god.” You whimpered as his palm came down once more and his head tilted so he could taste more of you. “Daddy, please. Don’t stop.”

Standing to his full height, Steve leaned his chest over you as he thrust two of his fingers into your entrance and pumped them so fast inside of you, you heard your slick obscenely squelch against his movements.

“Does that feel good, honey? You like when Daddy uses his fingers to make you cum?”

“Mmm—yes, Daddy.”

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby girl. Just making a mess all over your legs and my hand. Say it, Y/N. Say ‘I’m a dirty girl.’”

“I-I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl.”

“Yeah you are. Cum, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for Daddy.” Your vision was blinded by white as your body shuddered against the counter. “That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good girl. Ride it out. Use my fingers to make it last.”

Turning around, you cling to his neck as he smiles against your lips, throwing off his shirt as you push him towards the bedroom.

“I like when you get needy for me.” Falling on to the mattress, you hastily remove each other’s clothes and you whimper as his palm comes down hard on your behind. “Come here and turn around, baby.”

You paused and a flash of annoyance passed through his eyes as he grabbed your throat to pull you closer to his face.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation, little one? You are not heavy. If I couldn’t handle that sexy ass on my face I wouldn’t have asked, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As if to prove his point, Steve leaned over to take hold of your hips and effortlessly lifted you till your knees were on either side of his head. His hands pushed against your back, urging you to lean forward so you could take his cock in your mouth.

“That’s my good girl. Fuck me.”, he groaned as your lips delicately kissed his sensitive tip before wrapping them fully around his length.

Steve was always a man about hands. You loved his massively large, beautiful hands and everything they could do. Whether they were nestled in a glove flying towards someone’s face, moving around wildly as he told a story, or like right now spreading your pussy open wider so he could flick his tongue in and out of your entrance…you loved them and what they could do.

Your mouth came off him with a pop as you continued to stroke him with your palm.

“Baby…please…fuck…”

“No, no, baby girl. Keep that mouth open and on me.” Doing what he wanted, you felt his fingers tangle in your hair as his hips thrust up into you. As he held you still, Steve shoved his face further into your cunt making you whine around him. The man devoured you as he fucked your face and both sensations were driving you wild.

Both hands abruptly reached beneath you as he pulled you off his cock and lifted you till you were up right.

"Make yourself cum, honey.”

He guided your motions until you were riding him, Steve’s fingers playing with your tits as you moan his name. He had told you before he didn’t mind when you said his name instead of his title. It told him you were lost in the feeling and he liked that when you were about to reach heaven his name was the first thing from lips.

Your body shook as you came, collapsing on his stomach as he continued to lick you clean. You fell onto the bed on your side and he eagerly flipped around so he could hold you while kissing your lips.

“Good, baby. You did so good. You’re so gorgeous when you cum hard like that.”, he whispered between kisses. Your eyes were still closed but you turned into the sound of his soothing voice as he began to peck down your jawline to your ear. “Do you feel what you do to me, pretty girl? How hard I am just from you riding my face?”

After guiding your hand to his cock, you both mewled at how firm it had gotten as precum oozed from his tip. Steve’s jaw fell open when your thumb grazed across it and he lightly shuttered in pleasure at the feeling.

“Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”

When you nod your head, he rolls on top of you and without hesitation you circle your legs around his waist. His fingers tenderly brush some loose hair out of your face as he places soft kisses on your lips. Warm air hits your tongue as Steve moans, sliding his length into your core.

You love the rough stuff with your boyfriend but you utterly reveled in seeing him like this to. Either way he had you whether it be fucking you or making love, it was filled with passion. His eyebrows knitted together as he pumped into you slowly at first, absorbed in the full feeling of you.

“I love you, Steve.”

The man’s eyes fluttered open as he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

“I love you to, Y/N.” He pressed his forehead to yours as he gradually began moving his hips a bit faster. “Since the moment I saw you, honey. Fuck. You feel so good.”

Steve’s head falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he thrusts into you harder, your fingers clinging to his hair and shoulders as you whimper.

“Fuck. Just like that, Daddy.”

“Yeah? Is that the spot, baby girl?”

“Cum…cum with me, baby, please.”

Pushing up onto his elbows, his eyes lock with yours as his hips practically punch into you, hitting that sensitive spot repeatedly until your back arches off the bed and your pussy squeezes his cock as you cum.

While you continue to flutter around him, his rhythm becomes sloppier till you feel him warm your sides.

After a quick shower, Steve wraps you up in one of his shirts and you cuddle against his side as he plays with your hair.

“Thank you for today. I had fun spending time with you.”

“Me to. Are you feeling less…overwhelmed?”

“I am. I always feel less stressed when we’re together.”

“Me to.” You feel his smile as he kisses your forehead. “Y/N, if I did ask you to marry me would you say yes?”

His question throws you off guard as you sit up to fully face and he does the same.

“What? I don’t understand—”

“Yes you do. If I ask you, Y/N Y/L/N, to marry me, Steve Harrington, would you say yes?”

“Of course, but you said you wanted to wait for the right time…”

“I did but like I said at dinner, I’ve been wanting to marry you since high school. I know weddings take some time to plan but no matter what, sweetheart, I love you. I’ll marry you today, tomorrow, or twenty years from now.” He rolls over and crouches down towards the tiny safe you know is at the bottom of his nightstand.

You smile as his tongue pokes out while he inputs the code and grins when it beeps signaling success. Retrieving something from it, he scoots over to your side of the bed and yanks your legs making you giggle as he tugs you towards the edge.

“I got this year ago and I’ve been saving it… I honestly think right now is the perfect time and I don’t care what I have to do or how hard I have to work I’m going to give you those things I said.” As he descended to one knee, he opened the tiny black box and you gasped when you saw the beautiful engagement ring nestled inside. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Steve Harrington! Of course!”

He breathes a sigh of relief, unaware he had been holding his breath, and promptly tackles you in his arms as he slides the ring on your finger.

#boxer!Steve Harrington #dom!steve harrington #daddy steve #steve x plus size reader #steve x reader #brat reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery smut #stranger things #fan fiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #daddy steve harrington #plus size reader #Steve Harrington ask

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paramouradrift · 5 months

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Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @transboyzuko, and it's been a minute since I've done anything like this so here goes:

Three Ships: RMS Olympic, RMS Titanic, HMHS Britannic. The only three Olympic-class ocean liners ever built by Harland & Wolff for the White Star Line. Titanic's story is well-known, of course. Britannic was a hospital ship in World War I until she hit a mine in the Aegean and sank. Olympic's career lasted 24 years before she was retired and sold for scrap. Why do I know this? Because I have a morbid fascination with maritime disasters.

First Ever Ship: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell. I grew up watching Mobile Suit Gundam Wing on Toonami, and these boys were my bias. I still hold this fic up as one of the best I've ever read. Although, thinking about it, my first actual ship was probably Sirius Black/Remus Lupin via The Shoebox Project by dorkorific and ladyjaida, which I first read on Livejournal. But that was less something I actively shipped and more a ship I actively enjoyed.

Last Song: Hypomania, by Coping Method. My music taste currently vacillates between dance pop/electronica and heavy metal.

Last Film: Uh. Fuck, I dunno. I don't watch a lot of movies anymore. I did do a double Barbenheimer over the summer, though.

Currently Reading: So This Is Ever After by F. T. Lukens and Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson, but progress has been slow. Just prior to starting them both I devoured the Simon Snow trilogy, though, so maybe I just have poor time management skills.

Currently Watching: myself age by steady increments. I also don't watch a lot of TV or streaming series, although that's less from lack of desire to watch and more from being busy with other things. Well, I have been watching Money, Explained, but that's for work and does not therefore count.

Currently Consuming: I'm between hyperfixations at the moment. I have been working my way through Bret Devereaux's collected blog posts on the Battle of Helm's Deep to cope.

Currently Craving: rice. And the next part of Dog's In Love 2. But I can get rice.

I guess I'll tag some folks. Do I even interact with you people enough for this? I'unno. Let's go with: @chiptrillino, @lizardlicks, @three-lesbians-of-the-apocalypse, @schrodingers-bisexual, @deliciousstrawberrythings, @portraitoftheoddity, @sixseisliu, @persnickety-peahen, and @astrababyy

#tag meme #tumblr game #idk #ignore me

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katy-l-wood · 3 months

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Disasters in Film: The eras of disasters in film.

Here we go! The first in a series of posts I'm going to do giving my thoughts on the college course I'm taking this semester about disasters in film. I made a post with the film list and reading list as well, which you can check out here.

Also. One of the professors teaching this course LOVES quotes. And I mean loves them. 90% of his presentations are just quotes that he then rambles about. So be prepared for lots of quotes in this series. 😂

And I'll open this up with the same image the professors did, which is an image from the Mayfield Kentucky tornado. Because damn is it fitting and evocative:

This is a theater that was damaged by a tornado, revealing the world outside the theater while leaving the interior of the theater itself untouched. The photo was taken by Shawn Triplett.

And a quote:

“Disaster is one of the oldest subjects of art.. It is concerned with the aesthetics of destruction with the peculiar beauties to be found in wreaking havoc.” —Susan Sontag, The Imagination of Disaster

Now, onto my thoughts on the eras of disaster! We covered the basics, obviously, which is that we started off with biblical disaster movies in the 20s and then swung into more exaggerated/"imagined" stuff. Then in the 50s and 60s we kind of swung back to biblical and historical stuff for a bit before going back to exaggerated/"imagined" stuff like aliens and monsters. Then, of course, we had the big resurgance in the 70s which moved away from aliens and monsters and that sort of destruction and swung more towards natural disasters and using them to frame various discussions of class and the real world. The 80s were dominated by action disaster movies with lots of focus on remasculinization of America (aka sweaty men with their shirts off kicking ass). Then in the 90s we just went in all fucking in on completely destroying the world. There were 83 disaster movies released in the 90s, with 21 of them being released in 1998 alone.

And then we've got 9/11. Now, the professor's have stated that we'll talk more about pre-9/11 and post-9/11 disaster movies later, but what I found interesting here is that the professor stopped separating the decades after this. We just went from the 90s to the 21st century as a whole. Which felt weird. We're nearly 1/4 into this! There's two complete decades of it so far! I think we can at least make some broad strokes generalizations about the sort of differences in disaster movies in each of those decades.

But, with that said, I do wonder if the lack of breaking it down farther stems from the sort of cultural stall we're in as a whole. This has been talked about a lot in other realms, such as how quickly fashion trends turn over to the point they hardly count as trends anymore. The same could, potentially, be said of disaster movies. I'm actually tempted to sit down and try and figure it out, to see if I could put a specific trend to 00's and 10's disaster films, but I haven't had the chance yet.

Then, of course, we have the fact that Hollywood is pretty broken right now. Obsessed with remakes and churning out the same content over and over again. Killing unique studios left and right. Constant layoffs. Terrible treatment of its workers. Etc. Etc. Might that also speak to our lack of easily discernible trends in disaster movies?

Either way, it's interesting!

#Disasters in Film

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ririglow · 1 year

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Madly | Joe Burrow

pairings: loner! joe burrow x popular reader

word count: 11.7k

genre: college au!

warnings: long hair Joe (don't know if that's considered a warning or not but oh well!) reader is a bit of an airhead, cursing, drinking, awkward Joe (he gets no hoes in this), shy Joe (bc why not), the reader is toxic and unlikable in some instances, heavy make-out session, slight dry humping, there's no actual smut in this

synopsis: the popular loner gets dared to play the seven minutes in heaven at a party in a haunted house and you his crush volunteer as a tribute to participate.

a/n: shitty ass description but you get the picture! also yes that is joe with long hair someone on Twitter made that edit and since then my brain has been racking with ideas of long hair Joe. It"s giving "because tonight will be the night that I will fall for yew!!"

It was another Saturday night and you were looking forward to the party you were attending. You've always enjoyed parties, especially when they're hosted by someone you know. The idea of letting loose and having a good time is something you can't resist. You believe that having fun and being a little carefree is an essential part of life, especially when you're in college. You're not afraid to admit it, and you don't care what people think about your party-girl lifestyle.

However, tonight was different. You were feeling uneasy about the party's location, and it was making you second-guess your decision to go.

"Who had the bright idea to throw a Halloween party in a real haunted house?" Cato, your friend, expressed her apprehension as she adjusted her bunny ears. You can't blame her; this was a disaster waiting to happen. Dumb college students decide to rave in a house where there have been numerous reports of "dark spirits" from past murders. As much as you'd prefer not to be the prophet of doom, the situation sounds like something out of a cliche horror film.

It didn't help that the location is in vast flat farmland stretching hundreds of miles with the only sign of life you'd encountered on your journey being countryside animals. What in the world was Sam thinking? What were you thinking?

"That'll be your "bright" boy toy, Sam Hubbard." You respond with a compressed smile as you open the car door and step out. The cold October air hits you harshly, your pink leotard and sparkles fishnet tights were completely useless.

Your gaze immediately latches on the creepy and dilapidated house that wasn't too far off in the distance. The old Victorian-style home that has witnessed the best of days is now weathered and shadowy. The only thing stopping it from looking utterly ghastly was the seasonal decorations on the outside and the loud music blasting inside. Even though the house is not exactly in its prime you couldn't help but admire the elaborate woodwork and design.

"What?!" You felt a hefty smack land on your arm. "I had no idea this was Sam's party! Oh my God!"

"I know right?! Isn't it great?!" You chirped with a big smile. "You guys can finally spend some time with each other. "

Cato rolls her eyes walking alongside you as you make your way toward the house saying, "No thanks I'd like to maintain my dignity."

For a long time, she has struggled with her crush on Sam. Her philosophy is that if she avoids him as much as possible, those feelings will fade. Furthermore, her integrity will not be compromised simply because she has a huge crush on one of the school's wildest and most cocky athletes.

"Believe it or not, he's got a crush on you just as much as you do on him." You mentioned.

Cato rolls her eyes and continues to walk, saying, "That's not a crush; that's pure lust. Which isn't much of a shocker given how many girls he's fucked with around campus."

Your head shook in denial. "Sam might have a negative IQ and spend most of his life doing stupid crap like this," you gesture toward the house. "But take it from someone who hangs around him a lot; he's not like that."

"As the saying goes, seeing is believing, and from what I have gathered, he likes to stick his dick into anything that has a hole in it.".

"Oh really? or are you listening to those friends of yours again whose only action is tongue-kissing a tree?"

You and Cato are from different social circles. You prefer to party instead of attending study programs on the weekend, while Cato is a high-achieving scholar who is driven by the desire to learn. She always puts her education first and is the type of student who would prepare for a pop quiz as if it were an SAT. Needless to say, your ambitions and success are on opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Hey! not too much on Peggy," She scowls defensively. " The bottom line is I know he's only looking for someone to keep his bed warm."

You didn't bother responding because you knew there was no point in persuading her that her perception of him was wrong. Instead, you proceed to the front door of the house. As you both approach, you can smell the musty odor of the place, which is likely to be older than your grandparents.

Since the music was so loud, you grabbed the rusty door handle and pulled it open without knocking. Upon entering the inside wasn't what anyone would expect based on the outside image. The decoration and color scheme looked impressive. Fake cobwebs and caution tape were draped around the foyer, and a number of orange and black balloons were scattered on the floor. There were fake spiders on the walls, but you weren't sure if they were real or not. It wouldn't be surprising if they pertain to the house, you're in. Your eyes roamed over everyone in either the most generic costume to the most ridiculous, a cluster of people stood in corners making out dancing, drinking, or just talking. The energy felt very laidback, you were surprised many people even showed up given the rumors of the house.

A medium-sized table next to the entrance with an "entry fee" sign caught your eye. Rather than a bowl of cash, it had shot glasses holding liquid-filled syringes.

"This is clever," You said in awe as you grabbed two glasses handing one over to Cato.

"Oh no, one of us has to be the sober one here tonight." She said while shaking her head.

"C'mon Cat, it's only one shot and it comes with a chaser," You told her before shooting the vodka-filled syringe directly into your mouth and then chasing it down with a glass of soda.

She sighs knowing you would scowl at her for being such a killjoy. "This will be my first and only drink for tonight"

"Fine by me," You shrug taking another shot." Just as long you're not going to be uptight as a nun in a bar, all night we should be good."

"Remind me why we're friends again?" She says reluctantly, before quickly consuming the vodka.

"We help each other out." You patted her shoulder. "Without me, you would be doing a four-thousand-piece globe puzzle right now bored out of your mind, and I would be here surrounded by idiots alone."

"You'll have Sam," She points out.

"He's one of the idiots I was referring to."

"Takes one to know one." Cato teased, and in return, you playfully shoved her shoulder.

You walk further into the house. Off the main hallway, to the right, is the front parlor. The white sheet-covered furniture in this room is surrounded by a few people who sit idly. You greeted familiar faces passing by, not bothering to engage in full conversation. While Cato is after you, unable to leave your side, which is understandable, you doubt any of her other friends were attending this party. Not like any of them would be able to make it past the front door.

You beckon Cato to follow as you weave through the crowd. You passed a couple dressed up as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo making out on the couch with the guy's hand buried underneath the girl's skirt, in front of everyone with zero shame.

Damn. You thought as they were quite literally about to rip each other's clothes off.

"I need to get laid," You said sighing at the sight feeling a bit jealous you have no one to do that with.

"They were so rough with each other," Cato said with a grimace.

"What's wrong with that?" You said without a care in the world. Much like your personalities, your interpretations of sex are wildly different. You remember when she'd gossiped about the times she hooked up with a guy from her debate club, vanilla wouldn't be the word to describe the sex she experienced. It was dull as dishwater, you fell asleep on the phone as she ranted about how sweet he stayed in missionary for the whole hour.

Still to this day, you don't know how she can proudly profess that to someone, even to you. However, as her best friend, you still were pleased that her sex life was no longer non-existent even congratulated her on her achievement of screwing one of the student councils.

You made it to the crowded kitchen and immediately the strong scent of alcohol filled your nostrils, almost clouding your brain. To no surprise, multiple beer kegs are sitting on the counter, floor, and table. One of which is currently being guzzled by the host of the party, while doing a keg stand. Two people assist in holding both of his legs upright as the crowd gathers around shouting "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

"Oh my god, is that Sam?!" Cato exclaims beside you with widen eyes as she takes in her crush doing what he does best, stupid shit.

"Yup." You said simply, popping the "p". Crossing your arms you observe the scene in front of you, wondering how many more seconds he has until he pukes up his last few remaining brain cells.

It didn't take long for his balance to become uncoordinated and soon his body toppled forward falling off the table on the empty cans of beer and balloons that were scattered on the floor. The room quieted down as everyone including yourself and Cato included looked down at Sam, who lay flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

"Is he okay?! oh my god, we need to help him." Cato motions to step forward, however, your arm shot out to stop her.

"Wait for it..."

You watch Sam slowly gets up before shouting. "That was fucking awesome! Hell yeah!" The crowd was brought back to life as they cheered along with him.

"He can't be serious?" She expressed her surprise.

The crowd cheered as Sam, dressed in a cowboy outfit, showed off his biceps in triumph. "Like a heart attack," you responded simply as he fires himself up, you swear that man belongs in wrestling instead of football. Cato seems unable to take her eyes off Sam, specifically his bare chest, partially covered by a leather vest that looks small in comparison to his enormous stature. With the red bandana tied around his neck and the tight wrangler cowboy-cut jeans, you would've thought he was planning a strip tease show.

"Hey, pick your jaw off the floor he's coming over here." You nudged her softly, watching Sam's eyes brighten extra once he spotted you leaning against the wall before making his way in your direction.

Sam's large frame pushed through the crowd as steps in front of you, his eyes shifting over to the right side of you towards Cato. It was a brief look but you could detect the admiration behind it, and Cato's fake unbothered demeanor as she looks everywhere but at Sam. You could practically hear her internal screaming that was going off inside her head. It's almost sickening how neither party wouldn't dare to be the first person to make a move.

"Y/N! I see you made it." As Sam embraces you, he opens his arms in greeting. As your cheek touches his sweaty chest, a heavy aroma of beer fills your nostrils, making you physically cringe.

"Can't see how I would miss this." You said wiping your cheek with a grimace as you pull away.

"Well, the last time I heard from you it sounded like you wanted to." He said with a chuckle. Your eyebrows furrowed not knowing what he meant. Sam seems to notice and continues saying." You texted me and said Sam, what makes you think I want to party at the exorcist's house?"

You let out a sound of realization, remembering the text you had sent him after he insist you partake in his foolery. To which you flat out dismissed, even though you consider Sam to be one of your closest friends, and find a majority of his chaotic antics amusing there were some things you have boundaries too, and one of those things is being inside a house where multiple murders happened. Not exactly a place you want to go for "fun". But nonetheless, you were here.

"Hey, you made it seem like you were eager to go to this party," Cato spoke up, looking at you confused.

"I was..." You trailed off not knowing what to say, distinctively remembering inquiring to Cato about the party, instead of going to a board game cafe she proposed to you with her friends. "Sam!" You exclaim, changing the subject. "I must say you've outdone yourself with this one."

"Pretty sick right? The blood was hard to scrub off when we were decorating the place but I'd say it turned out pretty good." He nodded to himself looking around.

You and Cato shared a look before saying. "Wait, what?"

He faced you two and flashed a grin. "I'm only kidding."

Before anyone could say anything else a voice calls out. "Yo, Sam!"

It was Sam's best friend Nick. The two of them were strikingly similar in many ways, and sometimes they shared the same uncanny ability to think and act irrationally. However, Nick was not your biggest fan for whatever reason you don't know. Okay, that's not true you do know the reason, but managed to put it past you.

"What's up?" Sam said acknowledging him.

"Me and the boys playing beer pong out back, you trying to shoot?" He asked after briefly greeting Cato and ultimately ignoring you. Ah. No surprise there. Though you weren't fazed in the slightest.

"Hell yeah! are any of you willing to put some money down ?" Sam grinned.

"Logan might not since he blew his last five hundred." His daddy's five hundred, Logan Wilson has never worked a day in his life and only fiend off his rich parents. Just like you. But, unlike Logan, you spend your money on things that are worthy, like shoes, clothes, hair, and makeup…

Not a stupid game that consist throwing plastic balls into cups of beer.

You notice Nick purposely has his back to you and was facing Cato and Sam. Although you didn't care, you don't like being ignored, especially when you're so used to there being a lot of attention on you most of the time.

"It's not nice to ignore someone, Nick." You speak up placing a hand on your chest as if you were hurt by his lack of attention. Hell would have to freeze over for you to find yourself caring about the feelings of someone who ate a worm just because he saw on the internet of it tasted like chicken.

"Not ignoring, just not caring for your existence." He says while cutting his eye over to you.

"And why is that?" You ask with a confused look on your face.

He gritted his teeth as he said, "Are you seriously going to pretend like what you did to Tyler last month didn't happen?"

Throwing up your hands in desperation, you said to Nick, "Exactly a month ago! All wrongs need to be forgiven and forgotten. So tell your brother to stop being dramatic and unblock me so we can work things out. "

"You know, I am so glad you guys are through. That way he can find someone who has more class and is less bitchy." He scoffs.

"Just like your dad did to your mom last year I assume right?"

"You're such a bitch…" He said starting to get in your personal space, however, Sam stepped in between you two.

Your chuckle was uninhibited, despite him being twice as large as you. A hum escaped your lips as you glanced down at your medium-sized pink French tips, reminding yourself to schedule an appointment with your nail technician.

"Hey man, cool it, just go ahead. I'll be out there in a minute." Sam assured giving him a serious look.

Nick continues to glare at you as he walked away while you give him a mocking wave goodbye.

"Cat, I know what you're going to say." You huffed out practically feeling her disapproval.

"Good so you know that was so low of you to do?" She hissed.

"I didn't even say anything that was oh-so bad."

"You were totally out of pocket saying that about Tyler and on top of that you made fun of their parent's divorce!"

"He called me classless and bitchy." You defended. "Sam help me out here?"

He scratches his head looking uneasy. "I don't agree with what he said but you did cheat on his brother."

"Would you guys stop saying that? I didn't fully cheat!" You huffed crossing your arms. "It was more of a half-cheat..."

A month ago you made a big mistake. To make a long story short, you were at your boyfriend Tyler's frat party and got pissed on alcohol, then made out with a guy. Even worse it was the night of his birthday when he discovered you and the random guy kissing. In fairness, you thought he was Tyler since they seemed to favor each other so much. Not to mention that you were drunk. When you're drunk, you sometimes do really stupid shit under the influence.

"Also, he's not officially my ex I'm working on getting him back by the way." You said. Even though he hasn't replied to any of your texts and blocked you on social media, you still believe that he will come to realize what you did wasn't entirely bad and forgive you. Your touch starvation was exacerbated by his absence.

"Shouldn't you...give him space?" Sam spoke hesitantly.

You gave him a stare.

"Space? I've given him a month to forgive me!"

"That is not how forgiveness works." Cato shakes her head. " And I agree with Sam, maybe you should just let him breathe."

You didn't miss the way Sam looked at her as if she knew the answers to all the world's unanswered questions. God that guy is so whipped.

"You act as if I show up at his home with binoculars and watch him."

"No but you did make a fake account on Instagram to-" Sam started to say

"Sam!" You cut him off with a glare.

He closes his mouth and threw his hands up in defense.

"Do you not see what you did was wrong?" Cato asked with curiosity.

"Of course, I think that it's wrong. I even sent him flowers and chocolates but I do think it's a little bit dramatic to break up over a kiss ." You shrugged. It wasn't like you fully had sex with the guy, that's why you call it a half–cheat you were thankfully pulled apart by Tyler before it go into a full-on cheat. Your logic to others may hold some absurdity but to you, it made perfect sense.

"Besides this isn't our first time having a break." You added.

"Yeah but that break was due to the fact you thought he was cheating on you with his sister!"

"I didn't know who she was! It's not my fault he hadn't taken me to meet his family."

"Because they don't like you." Sam chimes in.

"Ouch." You say, even though you know it was true. His mom down to the damn family dog didn't like you. Naturally, you never let that bother you. His family wasn't the only people you've come across that didn't take a liking to you and most certainly wouldn't be the last. Would it be nice if you could actually get along with his family? Sure but It's also nice to just have a good dick in your life and someone to talk to, that was all you needed anyway. You're dating him not his family.

"Anyways that's enough talk about my love life." You didn't feel like getting ridiculed about your relationship, especially by two people who are too cowardly to be in one.

The loud mellow beats from a song traveled throughout the house. With the bass shaking the windowpanes threatening to burst at any given moment, though it wouldn't surprise you considering how old this house is. Amid the sounds of people laughing, yelling over the music, drunken whooping, doors opening and closing, and the occasional pop of a balloon. You and Cato were throwing down in a swarm of sweaty drunks. Red solo cups in both you and Cato's hands you didn't know how long you were dancing or where the hell Sam drifted off to, probably had to gather himself once he'd seen Cato taking off her jacket revealing her black leotard unveiling her slim figure. The costume is completely out of her comfort zone thanks to you who insists you both go as the cliché sexy bunny girls.

You didn't know how long you were dancing, but the air felt hot and tight, the fog machine certainly didn't help either mixed with the sweaty odor of dancing bodies. Fresh air is definitely needed. You took a sip from your cup and swayed to the beat of the song, while your dancing had relaxed Cato was full-on letting her wild-side show. The responsible and shy girl who never parties, now is having the time of her life shaking away the modesty she had prior. By the time she hit the dance floor, she was already on her second? or fourth cup. You didn't know, regardless she completely went against her statement about only having one drink. Nevertheless, you were relieved her Alessia Cara syndrome wasn't set in motion and that she was finally letting herself have fun and not hiding somewhere in the corner playing chess on her phone.

Tilting your head back you quickly drink the last bit of alcohol. Your glossy eyes drifted around the room hoping to find a hot guy to fill your empty void and take home. No one. Absolutely no one caught your eye. Looks like it'll be yet another lonely night as you wait for Cameron to take you back. With a deep sigh, you turn your attention back to Cato who looked as if fresh air was something she needs, tiny beads of sweat trailing down her temple and her hair slightly frizzed. You knew you probably didn't look any better, if not worse. As much as you love parties they get exhausting quickly.

"I'm sweating my tits off let's head out in the back." You shouted over the loud music.

Whether Cato heard you or not she still nods her head. Slightly uncoordinated and a little bit tipsy you proceeded to walk in the direction of the back of the house, ignoring the way your body brushed up against multiple sweaty bodies and obvious lustful stares from onlookers. It would be a whole different story if they were at least attractive. You reach the rear entrance which is located by the kitchen the glass knew it the frigid air hits your warm bare arms and legs. The wind felt brisk and smelt heavily of weed.

"Whew! I thought I was gonna die for a second." Cato pants as she chugs a bottle of water you didn't notice she took.

"No kidding." You said shaking your head as you took in the scenery in front of you.

Unlike inside, the outside wasn't decorated and didn't have that many people standing around. Outside furniture was occupied by multiple people. Looking around you notice there are two main areas on the patio everyone is hanging around one by the firepit which resembles a snooze fest you barely took a glance, the other area, however, grabbed your attention it's the area Sam is at so, of course, it would be the loud, full of life and obnoxious. Multiple people stood around the pong table rotating the small burning herb to each other as Nick and Sam's team go back in forth.

"Joe's here!?" Cato says right before you were about to make your way over to Sam's side.

"What?" You asked not knowing who she was referring to, Joes are few and far between in your life, such as your uncle, a creepy gas station clerk to whom you gave a fake number, and the quiet boy from second grade who sat next to you during class.

You didn't recognize this Joe though.

Cato's finger points in the opposite direction of a guy with neck-length hair sitting down on the mini sofa looking very disinterested and ready to go home. He took more interest in fiddling with his fingers than anything. The longer you stared at the more you realize how cute he is.

She turns her head and squints her eyes at you. "Joe from my study group, the one I told you that'll help you with your Physics? You were to meet him at the library last week."

Ohhh, right. That Joe. Although she assigned him to you as a tutor, you've never actually met him, only hearing about his extreme isolated ways and brilliance in science from Cato.

"Please me tell you went and didn't bail on him?" She expressed that when she noticed the look on your face.

"What? Pfft, no I would never!" You exclaim waving her off.

"Well, let's go say hi. He looks miserable. I'm sure he'd like to see some familiar faces." Cato said.

You scanned the area and noticed he was the only one sitting there in his little world. Only an empty bottle of Kirkland purified water sat on his lap and kept him company.

Oh no...

Without giving you a chance to protest and give her a bullshit excuse she drags you along in the direction of Joe. Shit, shit you deadpan because you did bail on the study date she arranged for you. To you, the proposition of going shopping seems way more fun than sitting in a library bored out of your mind while some know-it-all explains the properties of matter and energy. It was a pain in the ass in high school and even more so in college.

When you both approach you have a chance to get a really good look at him and wow is he extremely attractive? That was the only word you could think of to describe him. His dark blonde hair is long and creates a messy curtain bang that compliments his features well. Pink lips with a defined jawline you were sure models only dream of having. He looked unreal, too good to be true. This man is gorgeous and you can tell even though he's sitting that he's tall and has a nice body underneath the semi-baggy outfit.

You were not the type to feel timid, but when his enchanting blue eyes looked up at the two of you. It took everything in your power to not shy away.

"Never in a million years did I think I would see Joe Burrow at a party, let alone a Halloween one," Cato said, shocked while leaning down to give him a brief hug as you stood behind her side awkwardly.

You secretly prayed for him not to acknowledge you, the last thing you want is him bringing up your "study date".

Cato will kill you if she finds out you didn't make it. Ever since you barely graduated high school with her, she's made it her duty to be your personal academic advisor to help you throughout college. So far it has been a rough couple of months for you in terms of grades and you've concluded that education is about to come to an end for you.

Joe forces out a laugh like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "I could say the same to you. Ezekiel dragged me here."

"Ah I see, y/n did the same to me." Cato said turning his attention to you.

As soon as he made eye contact with you, he began to peer up at you. With a sense of wonder and concern?

Taking you by surprise, he asks, "How is your grandmother?"

What?

You furrowed your eyebrows looking confused before you responded. "Um?"

His cheeks flush a deeper red and his eyes downcast to his fingers which didn't stop fiddling in his lap. Jesus his hands were huge, and veiny. Although it was difficult, you were able to look away and focused what came out his mouth next.

"Well, apparently, you texted me last week letting me know you couldn't make it to the study date we had due to your grandma being ill. That's my bad if I pried too much, I was just concerned. You don't have to answer, that was stupid of me to ask." He begins to ramble and even stutter at one point.

There is a lot of opening and closing of your mouth while you are unable to find any words to say. It wasn't long before Cato's eyes were drawn over to you, and a sharp, glaring gaze immediately identified the problem.

You grimaced as you fiddle with the pink pearl necklace an item that was bought on your shopping spree. "Oh! Um, she's fine, alive... and well." You said with a smile.

Your memory of telling that lie is hazy at best.

As far as you know, your grandmother is in great health and is not even in the same country as you. Instead, she is enjoying retirement with her husband probably relaxing on the beach in Rio de Janeiro, certainly not cooped up in her house with severe hay fever.

You could feel Cato's heated stare and you didn't dare look at her instead you pretend to take an interest in the mini firepit as if it were the most interesting thing in the world right now.

"That's—uh good to hear." He stammers out quietly. His eyes were still trained on his fingers, you notice his right leg started to bounce up and down rapidly.

You feel a strange sensation creeping up on you like a dark cloud hovering over your head. You can't quite put your finger on it, but it feels like a mix of uneasiness and discomfort. It's been a while since you've felt this way, and you're not sure how to deal with it. You try to ignore it, but the feeling only grows stronger, until it's almost suffocating. You realize that what you're feeling is guilt and shame, two emotions that you thought you had left behind a long time ago. You've always considered yourself to be someone who lives life without regrets or faults, but now you can't deny the fact that you've done something that you're not proud of. The weight of your actions is heavy on your chest, and you don't know how to make it go away. You take a deep breath and try to face the guilt head-on, knowing that the only way to move forward is to acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them.

Right off the bat, you knew Joe lacked a lot of social skills and was not the type to be outspoken which is why he didn't question you further. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to be presumptuous in any way. And that made you feel even worse. You met this man less than two minutes and he's already waking up emotions within you.

Clearing your throat you straightened your posture as if you weren't fazed in the slightest. Though you felt like the worst person on the planet. "Well, Jeff—"

You were cut off by Cato swatting your arm. Looking at her in utter confusion as to what did you say wrong. She hissed out, "It's Joe"

Instead of giving you an offended look, he chewed the inside of his lip looking everywhere but at you. He didn't even bother correcting you. Judging by his demeanor you can tell he's feeling extremely awkward.

"Joe, do you mind if I take a seat right here?" You gave him another strained smile, pointing to the small space next to him.

He nods his head and watches you plop down with a sigh of relief. Your heels have been slowly killing you for the past few minutes, and you were on the verge of taking them off at any moment. However, even if you were wearing stockings, you would be too afraid to let your feet touch the filthy ground, no matter how protected they were.

Because of Joe's large frame taking up most of the space and your side being pressed against his, you could feel his body tense as he awkwardly folded his arms in his lap in an attempt to avoid any contact, like that seems to be his goal. And maybe it is considering the fact you'd just acknowledged him by the wrong name and to top it off you failed to show up last week.

You're almost certain he doesn't like you very much at the moment.

Maybe you can change that...

Just as you were about to say something to Joe, Cato beats you to the punch. "So, how long have you been hanging out here?"

"Um—" Joe pauses to take a deep sigh, his mouth twists as he thinks over his answer. "For about ten minutes or so, it's more tolerable out here than in there."

"That's true." She nods in agreement. "Have you had anything to drink?" Cato speaks again with a smile, but you could still see the irritation behind it not aimed at Joe but toward you. And you knew what it stemmed from.

"Of Alcohol? No—"

"No? That is horrible! We'll fetch one for you." She rushes out of her seat, which was across from you and Joe, before you can react she grabs your forearm, yanking you from your seat as you sputter out in surprise and confusion.

"I'm good you don't have to—" Joe spoke up but Cato was already headed towards the door that leads back inside the house. You passed Sam who looks confused watching Cato drag you back into the house.

Within seconds of entering the kitchen, she pulls you to a corner where fewer people are gathered and stares at you with a glare.

"Ow, what was all that for ?" You whined rubbing your arm.

"You are such a liar! Where do you get off??" She exclaims. You open your mouth to answer but she put her hand up to stop you. "That was rhetorical."

"I'm guessing this is about the tutor date?" The question came out more as a statement than anything.

"You think!? I was under the impression you were going to put in some effort." She sighs deeply with a sense of disappointment in her eyes. You felt like you were standing in front of your mother instead of your best friend. "Is there any way you can justify, with truth for disregarding his time to help you?"

Actually yes, you would not be standing here looking hot as you are if it wasn't for the shopping spree you did. However, you had a feeling she wasn't going to like that answer so instead you gave her the answer she wants to hear.

"Would you calm down? I'll just reschedule."

You were planning to do that anyway since your Physics grade was declining rapidly. Your professor's angry emails keep reminding you.

Cato laughs half-heartedly. "I wish you luck with that, Joe keeps to himself and does not tutor anyone. I had to give up my LEGO creator space shuttle explorer for him to agree to tutor you, now that was for nothing."

Her LEGO what?

"I'm sure he'll take pity on my grandmother and give me another shot." You said with a sly smile.

"You think he actually bought that?"

You never cared enough to see if others believed your excuses in the past, so it was difficult to tell. However, you care now, especially since you feel extremely guilty about the entire situation.

"Dunno, if he did or didn't I'm still gonna ask him."

Cato looks at you for a few seconds before sighing. "Why not just find another tutor?"

"Because It's unlikely I'll find one who looks like that." You weren't going to sugarcoat the reason for wanting him to be your tutor, his looks play a major part. The shopping spree would have been a no-go if you had known how hot he looked before you canceled out on him.

"Jesus, you are something different." She snorts as she grabs a can of beer.

"I take that as a compliment" You smile brightly.

"Well, if he agrees promise you'll take it seriously this time?"

"Come hell or high water, I'll be there." You responded quickly, ready to go back outside and accompany Joe again.

If he could change one thing tonight it will be texting Ezekiel earlier out of boredom. Joe thought maybe they'll end up playing super smash bros or catching a few sports games on TV. Instead, he had unintentionally allowed his roommate to coax him into going to a party he had zero interest in. Joe lives and breathes to stay in his own space so the idea of being surrounded by sweaty bodies, booze, and a bunch of horny people looking for someone to spend their night with has never sparked his interest. As soon as he enters the doorway he automatically wanted to turn back and spend his night copped inside his apartment, that's how he spends most of his nights anyway: tucked away from the world while entertaining himself with reruns of Animal Planet.

Now he's surrounded by the aroma of sweat from different bodies and loud music that will surely have his ears ringing once he leaves this place. God he hates these types of parties, and to make matters worse it's on Halloween his least favorite holiday.

He felt like the odd man out standing in the dusty corner of the keeping room that is adjacent to the kitchen taking tiny sips of water because he didn't want to rush the drink fearing he'll get thirsty soon after, then he'll have to re-collect his strength to navigate through the rowdy crowd to get another. There are a lot of people and almost all of them are drunk off their asses including Ezekiel who is grinding sloppily between two girls with devil horns.

As out of touch as he is with the scene in front of him, he couldn't knock anyone for having fun. And is glad his roommate is enjoying himself for the most part. No matter how ridiculous Ezekiel looked in his fireman costume which was just an opportunity to show off his abs in hopes to attract the attention of girls. One of the many things Joe does know is that Ezekiel is a fuckboy through and through. He drinks, smoke, party, and fuck around with nearly every girl on campus it's enough to make Giacomo Casanova appear like a gallant virgin. It's no surprise he found his remedy within minutes of arriving, whereas Joe is still struggling. Not that he's trying anyway. He doubts he'll find anything enjoyable at this party.

Joe sighed as he surveyed the crowd for the millionth time. He looked for the usual drunkenness, obnoxious yelling, and horny dancing of college students. He sees people in all kinds of costumes. There were witches and ghosts, superheroes and villains, and even a few monsters. The music is loud and unbearable, and everyone seems to be having a good time. A part of him wonders sometimes if he is wasting his life by being alienated since he was not tempted by indulging in that lifestyle. Having been that way since he was in high school, he occasionally felt sorry for his parents for having to deal with his reclusive behavior, however, he soon realized there are worse things he could do or be. In his view, being introverted never hurt anyone.

That's when he saw her. Suddenly it seems like there is no end to the misery inflicted upon him tonight.

Across the room, dressed in a revealing cat costume that shows off her curves, is Brooke Earle his oh-so-loving ex-girlfriend whom he'd only dated for six months. She was surrounded by a group of guys, laughing and visibly flirting with them. Joe felt a pang of familiarity and distress. He remembered how she used to flirt with other guys when they were together, and how she would always make him feel like he wasn't good enough for her. He remembers how she would get mad over the smallest things, and how she would blame him for everything that went wrong with their relationship. The air suddenly felt thick and his stomach churned at the sight of her.

He'd broken up with her a few months ago but still felt like he was under a spell. He was afraid that if he ever saw her again he'd be drawn back into her toxic world. She looks beautiful with her long blonde curls and tight catsuit, but he knew her beauty was only skin-deep.

Joe felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He didn't want to be in the same room as her, let alone give her an opportunity to talk to him. Without a second thought, he turn to make himself blend in with the crowd but it was useless considering he stuck out like a sore thumb since he was towering over nearly everyone in the room and is the only one not wearing a costume.

Then he heard her call his name.

"Wow I must be dreaming, I didn't know you were coming tonight!" Brooke says walking over to him with a smile. "You look nervous?"

Joe could feel his face turning red and his palms began to sweat as he looks down at the ground. He doesn't know what to say to her, they weren't even close to friends. He didn't want to be rude, but he also didn't want to engage with her either.

"I,uh, you look great I wasn't expecting you to be here." He mumbles. If he did he would've stayed put in his apartment.

She laughs a sound that's equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. "You weren't expecting me? I wasn't expecting you," she said. " Well, I'm glad I finally ran into you, we should catch up sometime."

That's the last thing he'd want. Even though they attended the same college, he had avoided her at all costs since their breakup. It was easy for him to do so because he rarely goes out anyway.

He felt like he was suffocating as he shook his head. "No, I don't think that's a good idea," he said. "You are not going to wield yourself in my life again."

She looked taken back as if that was the last thing she'd expect him to say. "What? Why not?" she asked.

He took a deep breath trying to find the right words to explain. "I just don't think you're healthy for me to be around," he said. " you're not someone I want to be my girlfriend let alone someone who I can catch up with."

Brooke looked stunned and a bit hurt. But he knew he had to be honest with her. No more walking on eggshells.

He didn't let her utter another word before making his way toward the patio door. Ezekiel gave him a questionable look, worried about his friend's abrupt exit. However, he reassured him with a simple shake of his head to let him know everything was fine even though it was not.

As soon as he stepped outside, he let out a huge sigh of relief. He was finally able to breathe in some fresh air and escape the toxic presence of his ex.

Joe felt a mix of emotions as he drags his feet to the other side of the patio and sat down on the surprisingly clean outside sofa, ignoring the loud whoops and cheering by the small crowd that gathered around the beer pong table. He tried to shake the feeling of seeing her again but she had a hold on him. One that is negative. It was the last thing he wanted to do to himself again.

Untwisting the cap on his water bottle and taking the last swig. His stomach still felt fluttered and on edge hoping she doesn't decide to follow him outside.

As he sat on the patio, the flickering flames of the small firepit cast an orange glow across his face. He began to stare into the fire, lost in thought as the unpleasant memories his ex he desperately tried to keep away began to flood his brain. All those troublesome arguments she'd purposely try to start just so she can have an excuse to walk out and cheat left a nasty taste in his mouth. He thought about all the hurtful things she had said to him by now he knew she shouldn't faze him but it was hard to let go of the memories of someone who'd been such a big part of his life.

As the fire crackled and popped along with the loud chatter coming from the other side of the patio, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to not just say screw this party and leave Ezekiel to walk thirty-five miles home.

Suddenly he hears the sound of high heels clicking in his direction he looks up to see his friend from work-study, Cato, walking toward him with you in tow. He felt his heart skip a beat once his eyes landed on you, standing there dressed in a pink bunny costume. You look beautiful and vibrant. Joe feels embarrassed to admit that he's developed a small crush on you which is why he agreed to Cato's arrangement with the study date, if it were anyone else he wouldn't have done it.

But that backfired badly when you didn't show up.

He remembers walking out of the library feeling disappointed. He looked forward to that study date all week long. It was going to allow him to finally have a conversation with you and show you how smart he is. He'd waited there for hours until he got the text from you about your grandmother being sick which he believed until he inquired about her well-being to you.

The look on your face told him all he needed to know. Your face was tense, your eyes were darting around, and you seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Had what he said upset you? Did your grandmother's health gotten worse?

Then you spoke, and he realized what was going on. You had lied to him. You made up an excuse for not showing up and now you're standing there underneath Cato's heated stare. Which tells him she didn't know about the lie you told.

He felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, he was somewhat hurt that you told him a terrible lie because he was truly concerned. Furthermore, he felt more awkward and embarrassed when, seconds later, you called him by the wrong name, which made him wonder if you were paying any attention to him at all.

Joe looked over to Cato who made small conversations while ultimately still glaring at you. He just sat there, feeling uncomfortable and flustered due to the fact you were sitting next to him and the aroma of your sweet perfume enchanting his senses. Before he knew it Cato was rushing to get him a drink he tried to decline the offer but it went in one ear and out the other. She urges you to follow her into the house as he sat there by himself once again unsure what to do next.

As he sat there waiting for your return, he watched the frat guys on the other side of the patio play beer pong. They were loud and obnoxious, shouting, and high-fiving each other after every shot. He felt a twinge of familiarity when he recognized one of the guys, Sam Hubbard. Ezekiel brought him around a few times and they'd only had a handful of conversations. Even though he wasn't used to talking with guys like Sam (excluding Ezekiel) who was outgoing, boisterous, and a bit of an airhead. There was still something about him to Joe that made him feel at ease. He seemed genuinely friendly and curious.

He was about to pull out his phone busy himself with playing a chess tournament when he heard someone call out his name.

"Joe! What's up, man?" It was Sam, walking from across the patio in his direction.

"Hey, Sam," He greets back standing up from his seat to give him dap.

"Dude it's been a while since I've seen you! What brings you to this party? You don't strike me as a party guy."

Joe shrugs. "Ezekiel wanted me to check it out, I don't know anyone here besides him and Cato."

He didn't bother to mention Rebecca it's best if she's kept locked out away in the past.

"Well, you know me!" Sam said, clapping him on the back before leaning closer to his ear. " Say, uh, are you and Cato like a thing? I saw you guys hug or whatever.. not that I'm a stalker—"

Sam continues to ramble until Joe stops him.

"Cato and I aren't together, we just know each other from a study group," Joe assures him so that he be free of Sam's beer breath wandering in his face.

"Oh! Really, man? That's great!" He throws an around Joe's shoulder excitedly. "Me and the boys were going to play truth or dare wanna play?"

Truth or Dare? He hadn't played that games since he was in elementary. It wasn't his favorite either, he hated being put on the spot in front of strangers.

He went to open his mouth to decline when he sees you walk back out onto the patio with Cato.

"What are you guys up to?" You ask observing the scene as you walk over to the two men.

"Joe just agreed to play truth or dare with the boys and me, you girls want in?"

You took a glance at Joe who was already looking at you and judging by his expression it didn't look like he got a chance to have a say in the matter.

"Only if other girls are playing too," Cato said crossing her arms, not wanting to play Truth or Dare with a group of just men. And honestly, you don't blame her.

"Of course! Yeah, hell yeah. Troy got his girl, Danielle. Ashley—" He pauses looking up to think of some more people. "Oh! And Alix from Cheer."

"Well, I'm in!" You beam. Not wanting to turn down any potential entertainment and playing those types of games brings out the best.

"Cool, I'm gonna gather up the rest and bring the bottles out." Sam grins patting Joe on the back before scurrying off.

Soon after, everyone crowded around on the patio. Forming a circle around the firepit. You took your previous spot next to Joe whose leg started to bounce up and down, you took pity on the guy because unlike before he was surrounded by a group of drunken party-goers something he was most likely trying to stay away from inside.

"Okay, here are the rules: You can either choose to take a dare or take a shot." Sam holds up a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila.

You frown in disappointment. "I thought we were playing Truth or Dare. Do you have to bring alcohol into everything?"

"It makes it more fun if you don't like it, don't play," Nick spoke up with irritation

"I'm just speaking for the people who don't drink, dickhead."

And by people you mean Joe, the drink Cato had given him is still full. You'd only seen him take a small sip which was out of appreciation. Seeing that gave you a conclusion he wasn't much of a drinker.

"Well, we know you're not one of those people. Little Miss "Alcoholic." Nick spoke.

"Really? That's all you got? I've been called worse by better." You said while flipping him off.

A few people chuckled, including Joe. Your stomach did a flip at the sound of laughter coming from him.

"Watch it now." A redhead spoke who is propped on Nick's lap.

"And what's gonna happen if she doesn't?" Cato raises her eyebrows at the girl. Tension began to arose as everyone look between you and Cato and the redhead with expectancy.

Sam clears his throat." Alright guys, let's start!"

The game starts with Sam daring Troy to give Danielle a lap dance which left everyone looking at the scene with amusement because Troy couldn't dance if his life depended on it. The game continues, with dares getting more and more ridiculous. On Cato's turn, she surprisingly picked "Dare", which turned out to be a harmless one. She had to call a nearby 7-Eleven and ask if they were open. So far no one has picked Joe and you could tell he was feeling at ease. Until it was Sam's turn again.

"Joe, it's your turn my man, Dare or Drink?" He grins face flustered from liquor.

Joe hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do. He's never played this kind of game before and he didn't want to look like a party pooper in front of you .

But then, he made his decision. "Dare," he said, trying to sound confident thinking he'll get an easy one like Cato.

However, by seeing Sam's growing smirk, he knew that wasn't going to be the case.

"Alright then, I dare you to ask any girl at this party to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with you."

Joe felt his heart sank. That's the last thing he wanted to do but he knew he had to follow up with the dare. He hesitated he didn't want to pick anyone he didn't know and be stuck in a closet with someone he didn't like.

Of course, he had you on his mind, but he doubts you'll agree—

"I'll play with you," You spoke up, with a smile while looking at him. "If that's okay?"

He felt his heart skip a beat. You looked at him with such anticipation. Not trusting his voice he nods his head in agreement. The rest of the guys excluding Nick hollers and whistles as you stood up holding out your hand for him to take which he does. He ignores the tingles he felt as his hand engulfs yours. Taking note of how soft and delicate they feel.

Sam led you both into the house to the upstairs closet. On the journey there you kept a firm grip on his hand, and as you weave through the crowds of people Joe caught the attention of Ezekiel who was still sandwiched between the two girls. "That's my boy! Go ahead and getcha some!" He yells out excitedly.

Joe felt his cheeks fluster, he doesn't know what to expect since he's never played the game seven minutes in Heaven but he knew it wasn't going to be any of that. By the sound of it just means that you two would be locked in a closet for seven minutes what could you two possibly do in such a small duration of time?

"Joe! Joe!" Brooke suddenly appears." Where are you going?" she asks him while giving you a sharp look. To which you reciprocated by looking at her unfazed.

He ignores her and motion you to keep walking. While Brooke looks on in anger and jealousy. Even though he didn't care whether she feels those types of emotions or not, a part of him felt good that she was seeing him with you. Maybe that'll show her once and for all she is not the girl he's chasing after anymore.

"Okay here we are you two have fun, remember seven minutes!" Sam cheesed as the three of you stop in front of an old closet at the end of the hall.

He ushers you two in and just as he was about to close it, your hand shot out to stop it. "Look after Cato don't let any weirdos near her. "

"You got it." He said with a salute before shutting the door leaving you and Joe In the cramped space. The only thing that accompany you two was the dusty light bulb above which only provided dim lighting.

It was tight and dingy in the small closet. You didn't care though, you were too busy staring at Joe as he towers over you, his entire physique is large. His breathing is soft and you can feel his body close to yours. There was a long moment of silence before you decided to try and break the ice.

"So," You clear your throat, rocking back on your heels. "You don't like parties."

Joe chuckles softly feeling his nerves ease up a bit. "Was that meant to be a question?"

"Just an observation." You responded trying to look anywhere but at him which was quite impossible since he was the only thing in your view due to his height.

"Well, your observation is correct." He sighs feeling himself relax. " I'm more of a....loner if that's what you want to call it. So these types of events aren't really on my radar."

"What is on your radar?"

"Being occupied with school and football." He says.

That piqued your interest Sam's always trying to get you to attend the school's football games. "You play football?."

"Well sometimes, I'm the third-string quarterback." Joe looks rather embarrassed to say as of you'll make fun of him, but you were just left confused. Much like any sports-related talk would have you.

"I'm sure you're great!" You beam a smile at him showing off your pearly whites.

"Thanks." He says with a smile.

You stood there in thought about your earlier introduction. Mentally cringing at how stupid you must've looked by not remembering your lie and how you addressed him by the wrong name.

"Hey, um, about the tutoring thing. I'm sorry." You said.

"Sorry about canceling out on me? Or the fact you gave me a horrible lie about your grandmother?" Joe said with amusement as he crossed his arms leaning on the door.

Damn, Cato was right he didn't buy it. You thought.

You let out a defeated sigh. "Both,"

He stares at you for a second squinting his eyes in thought. "What did you do that day anyways?"

"I made plans to go shopping. " You mumble looking down at your heels, expecting him to scoff or sigh in disappointment. The reaction you were used to by many.

"And you didn't think I'd want to go? I'm a bit hurt." He places a hand over his heart.

Your eyes light up as you looked up at him. "What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs pushing himself off the door. "You look like you know a thing or two about fashion and I desperately need some pointers."

"I can't tell if this is sarcasm or not. " You said slowly still eyeing him.

He threw his hands up in surrender. "No sarcasm. Just want to give you a heads up come the next tutor date if you so happen to have the urge to go shopping again just let me know, and I'll be happy to join you."

"Next.... tutor date?" You tilted your head in awe you were almost certain he wouldn't be so willing to ever offer you any help again.

Joe chewed the inside of his cheek before saying. "You don't have to come—"

"No! I want to! It's just..."You trailed off trying to find the right words. "I wasn't expecting that."

"How come?"

You shrugged. "Figured you'd hate enough to not tutor me."

"I'll admit... I was a little hurt. But it wasn't enough to make me hate you, trust me on that." He says the last part quietly while his eyes lock directly on yours.

There was an air of infatuation in his eyes as he looked at you with a shy smile. You didn't miss the glimmer of interest in his expression.

A moment of silence fell in the small closet the only sound that could be heard is the thumping bass from the music downstairs. The proximity between you and Joe is so close when you look up at him for the millionth time you notice a small piece of cobweb in his hair. More likely due to the fact his head directly touches the ceiling.

"You have something in your hair." You stated.

He blushes. "Oh, thanks for letting me know"

"Here, let me get it for you." You gently remove the cobweb from his hair.

"Thanks." He says.

Taking him by surprise you stepped closer to him, your chest pressed against his. You hear his breath hitch by your movement and see his Adam's apple bob up and down when he swallows thickly. "Your hair is very pretty." You breathe out reaching up to swirl one of your manicured fingers through his hair.

Joe blinks at you, not finding the strength to formulate any words he could feel his face heats up bashfully.

"You're very pretty too." He mumbles so low you almost didn't catch it.

You open your mouth with only the tip of your tongue showing. With sparkling eyes, you decide to test the waters a bit when you lean closer to him as if you're telling him a secret. "Wanna make out?"

"What?!" Joe sputters out, with wide eyes.

"Do you want to make out with me?" You repeated slowly to give him more time to comprehend every word.

"Um—" Joe begins to say before pausing he didn't know how to respond.

"It's fine if you don't want to, no pressure." You shrug as if wouldn't faze you if he agrees or not. But deep down you eagerly wanted to release some of the sexual frustration that's been pent up for weeks without Tyler and Joe seems like the perfect candidate.

Joe shuffles his feet. "You want to make out in here?"

"That's kinda the main point of this game." You giggle, watching him pinch his lips." You never played Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

"No, I thought we were just going to talk." He chuckles nervously his eyes crinkled at the corners. Your mouth opened to assure him that you both can simply talk if that is what he feels comfortable with. Before you can let out another word he speaks again. "But I do want to kiss you if that's okay?"

"Go for it." You tell him, subtly running your tongue over your bottom lip and tasting the pink strawberry lip gloss you applied earlier.

Joe's hands fidget nervously by his sides, and his eyes keep flickering to your puffy lips. You can tell he's nervous, but it's kind of endearing. You almost started to wonder if he's ever kissed anyone before. Gradually, he leans in closer, his breath hot on your nose and cheeks. You can feel his heart racing, and it makes your pulse quicken. His perfect proportion lips glisten after his tongue swipes over them when your arm reaches up to curl the back of his head pulling him down to your height. It was a little awkward with Joe having to crane his neck downwards. As your lips meet, you were met with the softness of his lips, it wasn't shocking in any way since you knew just by gazing at them you were going to feel satisfied.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds with you being the one who pulled away. You notice his hands were awkwardly by his side as if he didn't know what to do with them. A breathless chuckle left your lips at his tense posture.

"What's funny?" He asks looking down at you with a worried look.

"You just need to relax." You say, reassuring, with a smile. You took your thumb to wipe away the pink gloss you left on his lip before slowly trailing both hands down his long arms to grasp his hands which feel a little clammy. Without breaking eye contact you guide his hands toward your lower waist. "Is this okay?"

Joe finds himself completely lost in your grasp, unable to ignore his hand placement. This was more than okay, there's a certain look in his eye that says, "I want more," and you suddenly realize Joe is a bit different than the shy, quiet-spoken guy you met an hour ago. His hands travel down further until both rest on your backside a surprised gasp left you when he yanks you more into him before attaching his lips to yours. This time his kiss held more confidence, and your lips worked together perfectly, he clearly knew what he was doing this go around and you loved it.

The large fingers of his hand splay over your plush cheeks that protrude from your leotard as he gives it a firm pinch, which makes you gasp again in shock, he takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips and gently massage it as he does so. He begins to turn you both around. Resulting in your back coming in contact with the door. There Joe becomes more feral, his tongue prodded between your parted lips, teeth biting on your lips firmly. It was dizzying mostly because it's been a minute since you've had some air so you broke away. He didn't mind it though because he began to continue his kiss on your cheek down to your neck.

He's truly taking you by surprise, when you walked into this you thought it'll be you who take control. However, right now Joe is showing absolutely no restraint. And you love it. You can tell he's a man who appears reserved, but there is something lurking beneath the surface, a wildness you feel but not quite make out. A primal desire you know is there.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this with you." He said in between kisses on the slope of your shoulder and neck.

"Really?" A breathless moan escapes from you, wondering how the hell was that possible when tonight was the first time you guys had a proper introduction to each other.

He must follow you on Instagram. You got quite a following on there plus that's where most guys see you at anyway along with parties which you knew most likely he don't attend.

"Mm-hm," He hums as his hands settle on the curve of your backside, inhaling sharply when your hips rub against the hardness that pokes through his jeans.

It wasn't until he lifted one of your legs to curve around the waist that you realized the problem he had, too caught up in the feel of his lips biting and sucking on your neck. You giggle at the tickling sensation as he continued to hold your leg around him snugly.

He mumbles something incoherent due to the fact his face is nuzzled at your neck, then he lifted your other leg up so now both your legs are wrapped around his waist. A squeal left you at being suddenly lifted off the ground, it didn't take long for a blush to bloom and spreads throughout your entire body as he holds your more firmly. His arms are so strong and his mouth is back pressed on yours. While his hands cup your backside holding you against the door.

Your arms were clinging around his shoulders as he nibbles on your bottom lip softly biting into it before running his tongue over it.

An intense thrill runs through your body as a result of the sensation. As his heart races, so does yours, and you both feel it. It's such pure and absolute bliss that you can almost forget that there's a whole world out there. You just want to stay in this moment forever. As you cling to each other, locked in an embrace and lost in this moment, you feel completely and utterly connected. You've never experienced this feeling before not even with Tyler.

You don't know how long this make-out session was and you're pretty sure it was well over seven minutes. You weren't complaining though because you were just about to give this man something he wouldn't forget. Just as you were about untangle your legs from his waist a loud knock made you both jump.

He pulls back, his breath heavy, and his hands holding you gently. You dropped down to your feet just as the door swing open revealing Sam and Cato along with everyone else who was on the deck excluding Nick looking at you two with amusement.

"Had fun?" Sam grins, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Joe.

You smile and chuckle at his question. "That's an understatement." you reply feeling a chill on your neck due to the wetness Joe's mouth left. As you stepped out the closet Cato looks at you with a "tell me everything" look.

"Give me all the details when we get to the car." Cato said quietly to you pulling you toward the stairs.

Turning your head to look at Joe you weren't surprise to see him standing there with a deep redness on his cheeks while his lips were coated with your lip gloss as the guys crowd around him letting out loud whistles and whoops. His eyes connect with your as you walk away, you called out

"I look forward to our next tutor date."

Joe's mind is racing as you disappear. But a smile spreads across his face, as you just confirmed everything he had just hoped.

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#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fanfic

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