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atticrissfinch · 5 months

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(His) Home for the Holidays: A Meet Me in the Back Christmas Special | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 4 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: joel texts you while he's horny during the holidays, and you decide to visit him at his house after work. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, face-ridin', dick-ridin', ass-eatin' (Joel tosses reader’s salad and gives her a side of housemade ranch iykyk), kissing after said ass-eating, some nasty cumplay, brief fingering, kissing!!!, taking nude photos, unprotected PIV, pussy...job? idk reader strokes him off w her pussy lips, v brief mentions of cigarettes and weed, fluff??, characters actively avoiding Feelings™!!!, so many fucking stupid dirty christmas puns, reader can fit in Joel’s coat, has hair, and doesn't necessarily celebrate christmas, but is very familiar with it ig word count: ~5.2K | ao3 a/n: thank you guys so much for loving this fucker as much as me. we get into some real naughty list shit here!! i hope you like it, and don't be mad at me about the end ok thx <3 also s/o to @cafekitsune for the adorable divider! Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

The days before the Christmas holiday are always the longest. The office is relatively empty, no real action happening, and yet you’re stuck here for eight hours a day regardless. You find yourself bogged down with busy work and rubbing at your eyes with the strain of staring at your screen.

You hear a vibration on your desk and check your phone.

Joel: Wat r u up 2?

You roll your eyes a little, but you won’t lie to yourself. You're glad for the distraction.

You: Working

Joel: cum over

You: I literally just said I’m working dude

Joel: leave early. want u

You: I can’t just leave early. I’m stuck here.

You huff and toss your phone on your desk, trying to get back into your flow, but your phone keeps buzzing.

Joel: im so horny 4 u rite now

Joel: cock is all harddd

Joel: needs 2 be inside u

Joel: permishin 2 send pic???

You groan, your forehead falling into the palm of your propped arm. He has gotten much better at asking before he just sends full hog, and you’re grateful for that.

You glance around quickly, ensuring that no one is lurking in the proximal area, and you give him the go-ahead. God knows you need a little excitement while you’re dying of boredom in corporate America.

The picture arrives quickly, and you look around one more time before opening the text.

He’s actually taken the time to set up his phone at the end of his bed, clearly with a timed shutter, because he’s naked, up on his knees, with one hand gripping his massive length and the other dangling a twig of some kind of greenery above it…is that mistletoe?

Joel: u gotta come kiss it now. sry I dont make the rules

Fucking mistletoe.

You: Jesus. Did you buy mistletoe JUST for this little bit of yours?

Joel: no comment

Joel: cum over and suck it baby he needs it real bad

You don’t know what the fuck it is about this man, but he’s getting more and more dangerous for you. You’ve become much more inclined to jump when he says so. And the sight of his cock, thick and hard and ready for you has your body responding in kind. You squirm in your chair, pressing your thighs together and feeling the pressure building there.

You sigh and respond.

You: I’m off in three hours. Don’t you have to work tonight?

Joel: its my day off. let santa stuff ur tight little stocking real nice n full bby

You scoff at the cringey line, as used to his disgusting language as you are.

You: Yikes

Joel: yikes what?

You: Just everything about you.

Joel: and yet u scream around daddys cock all the same every fuckin time dont u. dont kid urself. just cum get ur present

You drop your head back with a quiet whine, the arousal between your legs only intensifying as he lays out so plainly how deeply he’s come to own you and your desires.

You don’t let yourself linger too long on your response, promising you’ll be there as soon as you’re off and requesting his address.

The mobile home park where Joel lives is…not exactly well-kept, but you try not to judge. You get momentarily lost, but eventually see Joel’s beater pickup truck pulled up next to one of the trailers, and you pull in next to it.

You: I think I’m here?

You confirm the number on the outside of the house and gingerly step out of the car.

Joel: doors open

You steel yourself as you climb up the small flight of rickety, crumbling wooden steps and pull the clattering metal door open.

“Joel?” You call out, taking in his living space for the first time and kicking off your boots.

It’s pretty small, but you suppose that’s fitting for a man living alone. A minimal kitchenette cluttered with food items and dirty dishes, a shrunken living room with a ratty couch and a recliner set in front of a television with a chipped coffee table littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, an overflowing ashtray, and a bong. A skimpy fake Christmas tree adorns the far corner of the room with cheap ornaments, some tired-looking garland, and flickering multi-colored lights, but it does have a certain charm to it.

“Back here,” You hear him call out from the end of the narrow hallway to your left. You shrug off your purse and coat and hang them on the hook by the door, next to his coat. The same coat you’d wrapped around yourself when he helped with your tires.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in to take an exploratory sniff.

It still smells like him, of course. His cologne, his cigarettes, his weed. But there’s something else. The very subtle aroma of your perfume. An indulgent smile bleeds across your face. Sure, maybe he’s just lazy and hasn’t bothered to wash it. But you like that you’re there. That it’s not just him leaving bruises and ink on your skin and a deep aching between your legs every time he fucks you, but you’ve also left your mark on him.

Your reverie is interrupted by Joel’s voice once again from down the hallway.

“Come see what Santa brought you for Christmas, darlin’.”

You shake your head, but your smile is still intact.

The floorboards creak under the shag carpet as you make your way towards his voice. His door is only partially shut, so you slip yourself inside tentatively.

And he’s there, just as you’d suspected. Naked as the day he was born, lounging on top of his sheets with hands clasped behind his head. He's got one leg extended and the other bent and spread wide to showcase his hard cock slapped against the pudge of his stomach. He's still got that tacky gold cross around his neck. But the pièce de résistance is the goddamn Santa hat placed jauntily on his head.

“Knew you’d come runnin’ when I called.”

You click your tongue dismissively against the roof of your mouth and curve a hand around your hip. “Please. You had to beg to get me here. You and your Discount-Strip-Mall-Santa ass.”

Joel’s face pinches, tugging at the rim of his cap, “Ouch, baby. This here’s the finest quality Santa hat that money can buy at the dollar store.”

You snort, wetting your lips against your tongue as you banter back, “Shouldn’t you be ringing a shitty bell at the local grocery store panhandling for donations or something?”

“Nah,” Joel refutes, scrunching his nose in the most annoyingly adorable manner, “Gave me the boot after I fucked all the lady clerks in the break room.”

“Ah, naturally,” You nod, stifling a giggle.

You watch as his eyes give you his customary scan from head to toe.

“Goddamn. Look at you, all done up.”

You glance down at yourself and lift a brow at him as you jog your memory of your chosen outfit for the day. Black trousers, a button-up blouse, and a simple blazer. Nothing you’d normally bat an eye at, but you guess Joel has only ever really seen you in casual clothes. “This? Really?”

“Mmhm,” Joel hums, scraping his teeth over his lower lip as his gaze heats up. “Daddy likes.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” You joke as you crawl onto the bed, Joel tracking you with his eyes along the way until you’re straddled above him. “Are you ‘daddy’ or ‘Santa’ right now? I’m a little lost in this roleplay.”

Joel chuckles, pinching your chin in his fingers and angling you down toward him. “Come on, now, ain’t you ever heard that song? ‘I Saw Mommy Kissin’ Santa Claus’? We’re one and the same, darlin’.”

“That mean I’m supposed to kiss you now? I thought that only applied to your cock, Mr. Mistletoe,” You laugh.

Joel shrugs, leaning his head up closer to you. “I’m not picky.”

You stare at his lips and weigh the decision. You’ve never kissed him before. He’s kissed parts of you. Possibly every other part of you. But never your mouth. And since you know very intimately what he smells like, you have a good idea what he’ll taste like as well.

You sigh, meet his eyes for a beat, and then press your lips against his. They’re soft, faint remnants of chapstick clinging to the crevices, serving as a gateway to his already searching tongue. You welcome him into your mouth and he strokes at yours with an unexpected tenderness, tasting how you’d imagined. The tang of his most recent cigarette, the depth of every smoke he’s had every day prior, a hint of mintiness from either gum or toothpaste. And the weight of his tongue in your mouth…it rivals what you’ve felt of his cock when you’ve tasted it. Maybe not in size, but in sheer magnitude.

You lock your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and drop down to grind your crotch against his cock, your nice dress pants be damned as his dripping head soaks into the fabric and you continue luxuriating in the feel of his tongue filling your mouth.

Joel grunts at your movement, tugging at your hair enough to lift your lips from his. “Sweet as a fuckin’ sugarplum, baby.”

“And that’s not even where I’m sweetest,” You whisper, smiling against his lips.

“Don’t I know it,” He mutters, capturing your lips again and squeezing at your ass to kickstart your grinding again. “But how about you remind me?”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Come ride Santa’s face.”

“I don’t remember that part in The Night Before Christmas,” You tease, twirling the ball on the end of his cap.

“Probably stuck it in them footnotes,” He chides. “Take off your pants.”

You dismount to shuck off your trousers, and the rest of your clothes just to save time and not feel so overdressed in comparison, and he manhandles you until you’re situated directly above his waiting mouth.

“Take a seat, darlin’. Might not be Santa’s lap, but it’ll be just as comfy, I promise.”

You don’t take much convincing, to be completely honest. You very willingly subscribe to the philosophy that if a man suffocates on your pussy, well…there’s not much of a better way to go. So you sit until Joel’s facial hair scratches and prickles at your skin, and you feel the broad length of his tongue stroking up the line of your pussy.

You moan out a breathy sigh and settle yourself onto his face, your hands stabilizing on either side of the pillow cradling his head, and start to roll your hips against the graze of his tongue. He’s attentive and thorough as he works at you, alternating between lavish licks to your folds and circling your clit with the point of his tongue, making you gasp and your stomach tighten intermittently.

It is a little weird not having him spewing heinous shit into your ear as he pleasures you, but you’re certain his brain is actively crafting more bizarre turns of phrase to plague you with as he eats you out from below.

His tongue spears and you moan out as he penetrates you with the muscle, fucking into your slick entrance as you rock down onto him harder. Joel moans in return, his brows drawing together as he strives to fuck you as deep as possible with his chosen tool.

“Oh, fuck, Joel, that’s…god, that’s so fucking good,” You whine, raising a hand to squeeze at your tit and steadying yourself against his wall above his head with your other hand. Joel must get inspired, because his own hand comes to grope at your unattended breast, working it in tandem with yours.

His other hand presses upward lightly on the back of your thigh, and you lift, looking down with a shred of concern.

“Just wanna knock at that back door a bit, baby,” He reassures.

“Huh?” You ask, brain a little fuzzy with arousal. But then his nose is nudging at your pussy and his tongue is prodding at your asshole, and your voice cracks mid-moan at the blissful sensation. You’ve never had someone eat your ass before, never really cared, but holy fuck. “Oh my god, Joel.”

“Call me ‘daddy’, sweetheart. Or ‘Santa’ if it gets you off,” He offers before diving back in on the tight ring of muscle with his lips and tongue.

“Fuck. Daddy…” You whimper as you feel the tip of his tongue breach the pucker of your asshole. The whole “daddy” thing is a losing battle at this point if he’s just going to push for it each time, and you might as well lean into it. He sucks lightly at the ring of you as he thrusts it inside softly. “D-daddy, that’s…”

You swear he laughs against you as the hand on your breast slides down to your hip. And you can’t help yourself, you dip your hand below your stomach to play with your clit to build upon the pressure Joel is stoking in your belly. The hand on your waist inches inward until his thick, wide thumb is sliding into your cunt, fucking you in time with the thrust of his tongue in your ass.

“Oh, god, daddy, I’m gonna come,” You whine, increasing the pace on the sensitive bud of your pussy. Joel growls between your cheeks, sucking and fucking you until you buck up into your hand with a shout and your pussy beats against the pads of your fingers. You feel your ass squeeze around his tongue, your cunt around his thumb, and Joel grunts as he coaxes you through your orgasm. And he doesn’t stop until you physically pull yourself off his face and fingers and collapse onto his chest.

“Oh fuck,” You pant, your mouth agape and dragging against the sheen of sweat on his skin. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Not one goddamn motherfucker has eaten your ass?” Joel asks, his voice appalled but delightfully raspy and wrecked. “That’s a fuckin’ crime against humanity. That’s a perfect fuckin’ ass.”

“You probably wouldn’t be surprised how many men don’t give a fuck about going down on a woman’s pussy, let alone their ass.”

“Fuckin’ absurd,” He mumbles, smacking his hand on your asscheek and gripping it under his fingers. “Ass deserves to get fucked every which way.”

You shake your head vehemently. “You’re not fucking my ass with that third arm between your legs,” You shut him down immediately. “I’d never shit normally again.”

Joel rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively. “We’ll just table that for now.”

“No,” You protest, slapping his chest, “Not tabling. It’s buried. Six feet under.”

“Alright, alright,” Joel concedes with a chuckle, gripping the back of your leg and hitching it at his waist. “Guess that snatch is still plenty tight for me, ain’t it?” He says, latching onto your lips, sucking your response off your tongue. It’s only after he’s invaded your mouth entirely that you recall where he’s just been, but the dizziness in your mind has you shoving that knowledge as far back as you possibly can.

“And what about me?” He nips at your lip with a grin. “You wanna lick Santa’s big candy cane?”

“God,” You huff out with a smile of your own, your forehead dropping onto his chest.

“Or would you rather just take a ride on his North Pole, huh?”

“You know, I almost respect your commitment to this bit.”

“What bit? Can’t a guy just get in the holiday spirit with his little hoe, hoe, hoe?”

“Ok,” You groan, pushing yourself off of him to get up from the bed.

“Woah, now, hold on,” He protests, a strong hand circling your arm and gently tugging you back. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere yet.”

“Why? I got what I wanted,” You shrug, sitting back down beside him and laying a hand on his chest. “Santa is seeming a little selfish right now. Isn’t it the season of giving?”

“Season of givin’ you this dick, maybe,” He retorts, pulling you onto his mouth again, and you groan against him. He croons at you as his lips brush yours, “Let me fill that stockin’ like I said I would. Show you what Santa’s got for you in his big sack.”

“I already know it’s coal. Can’t be anything else when I’ve been letting a strange old man hit it this often,” You say, wending a hand down south to wrap around what you can of his cock, and grinning with pride when you see his eyes pull toward the back of his head as you start to stroke him.

“Well, that’s because I know all the best puss is on the naughty list, don’t I?” He groans, thrusting into your hand. “You don’t think Santa gets his little helpers from the Nice List, do ya?”

“Guess you got me there,” You concede, leaning down to taste him again. He moans into your mouth as you jerk him, and the sound of him so desperate and horny has your pussy thirsting after him again.

“Climb back on top, little sugarplum. Let Santa deck those fuckin’ halls of yours,” He breathes over you, and you don’t even question it, you just swing your leg over his hips and settle the lips of your pussy onto the length of him. You skate your soaked core up and down the underside of his cock as it rests against his stomach and dip your thumb into his tip to simultaneously massage his frenulum with his own wetness.

“Christ,” He pants out, clamping a hand onto your hip to push and pull you up and down the outside of his cock. “I could fuckin’ come from just this, baby. But I need to fuck this nasty little slit.”

“What, no dirty holiday-themed pun for that one?” You smirk as you take hold of his length and position him at your entrance.

“Just eager to fill you with all my Christmas spirit, darlin’,” He rasps, squeezing at your hips and stroking the creases of your thighs with his thumbs.

“There it is,” You quip as you sink down onto him slowly, your mouth dropping open as he…well, he does a damn good job filling you with that colossal Christmas spirit. And as your ass sits flush with his thighs and his cock kisses your cervix, you have to admit…you’re feeling pretty goddamn jolly.

The ease of which your body welcomes Joel inside you now has you equal parts comforted and terrified. If you’d have told that naïve, reckless young woman who flashed her tits at a convenience store clerk that you’d soon be hurrying over to that man’s dilapidated single-wide in a sketchily quaint trailer park, sitting on his monster of a cock like it’s an old friend, bantering with him about his stupid fucking puns…you might’ve had to admit yourself somewhere.

But the way he fills you, makes space for himself within you, makes you feel like you’re the most velvety, divine cunt he’s ever sunk into, it sends tingles up your spine and a pulsing in your pussy.

“Shit, baby. Lookin’ like a star on top of a goddamn Christmas tree with my big trunk shoved up inside you. ‘Cept you got these sexy little ornaments,” He coos, cupping your tits again and fiddling with your nipples between his knuckles as he gropes at them.

“Play with them a bit more,” You moan, grinding on his cock and feeling it drag against your walls, “Maybe I’ll light up for you.”

Joel smiles wide, massaging your breasts with rough, dexterous hands. “Look pretty bright already to me with this cock rammed up your tight little cunt. Got you glowin’ with it, baby.”

“Shut up,” You brush off, embarrassment heating your cheeks as your hips begin to rise and fall onto him. “The glow just comes naturally. Nothing to do with you.”

“Sure, sugarplum. All you,” He placates, leaning up to suck one of your peaked buds between his teeth. You gasp as he grazes over it, pinching the other in his hand as his upward movement causes his dick to drag along your cervix.

“Oh my god,” You keen, toppling forward onto his chest and burying your face into his neck. Joel’s hands glide around to your back, holding you against him and using his new leverage to thrust into you from below.

“That too much cock for you, baby?” He sings in your ear as you clench around him. “‘S it overflowin’ your little stocking? Rippin’ at your seams?”

“‘S deep,” You manage to whine breathily. “So fucking deep, daddy.”

“I know, little sugarplum. Daddy gets real fuckin’ deep, don’t he? So good at takin’ all this cock, baby.”

You whimper into his neck, your nails scraping down his back as he fucks you open on his lap. Your clit grazes against him and you can feel your release climbing again as he continues to pound into you.

“You’re not gonna come again are you? Slutty fuckin’ thing. Can’t help but squirt all over this massive cock, huh?”

“C-can’t help—fuck, daddy, I can’t,” You cry, your teeth scraping at his neck as you grind your clit against him.

“Yeah, fuck, baby. Make a mess around daddy’s cock,” He orders as he thrusts, pulling your hips down onto his length.

Your vision starts to shimmer around the edges as he slams into the end of you, and you feel yourself splintering open, losing all grip you have on yourself. You burst apart around him with an inexcusably loud, animalistic scream, one sure to spark gossip among Joel’s neighbors for days to come.

“Fuck yeah, such a nasty fuckin’ slut. Feel you soakin’ my cock, baby,” He grunts, your juices flowing out of your pussy and down his balls as he fucks you through your orgasm.

And you can’t seem to get anything else other than “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” for a good thirty seconds. Joel seems to revel in that, encouraging it as his cock keeps splitting you open.

“Yeah, that’s right, tell me who’s makin’ you feel so fuckin’ good. Who’s big dick keeps you fallin’ apart like this. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel has no intention of letting you rest as he chases after his own completion, and his hips start to hammer up into you as he edges closer.

“Fuck, I’m close. You want me to come down your fuckin’ chimney, little sugarplum? Give you a real fuckin’ white Christmas?” He grunts as his fingers dig into your hips and his cock pounds against your walls.

You squeak out some semblance of an answer, unintelligible, and bear the brunt of his cock seeking its release.

“You know what I want, darlin’? Want you to jerk off my cock with those pussy lips like you were before. You do that for daddy?”

You whimper and nod into his neck, and you gasp when his length slips out of you entirely and he drops you on top of him.

“Grind on it, baby. Stroke daddy off with that drippy little fuckhole,” He instructs, helping to guide your hips back and forth.

You undulate your hips on the exterior of his cock as you stay buried in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily into his sweaty skin.

“Let daddy see you, sugarplum,” He urges, pushing you up by the shoulder until you’re upright.

You position your hands behind you and fall back onto them, giving Joel an unobscured view of your movement on him with the strength you’ve regained since your disorienting release. Your lips glide along him effortlessly with the ample supply of your own slick and come. Joel starts to jerk you forcefully back and forth on his cock with hands on your hips, like a ragdoll, until his grunts morph into deeper moans.

He finally comes with a slew of curses, his spend spitting from his cock directly onto his stomach and throughout the hair smattered on the skin there. You slide on his length until his hips buck with sensitivity and you slow to a halt, panting and staring down at the mess you’ve both made on his abdomen.

“So fuckin’ good for me, baby. Shit,” He groans out, stroking his hands down your slick thighs.

“That was…kind of incredible,” You breathe, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.

“‘S’all you, baby. ‘S’all you,” He praises, and actually seeming to mean it this time.

You smirk slightly as you swipe a finger through his semen and pop it into your mouth, moaning around it.

“Fuck me, sweetheart. That’s…that’s a fuckin’ sight,” He sighs, dimpling your thighs with his fingers. “How about you go for another little ride on daddy’s tummy, huh?”

You quirk a lazy eyebrow at him and then drop your gaze to the mess on his stomach.

“Come on, sugarplum,” Joel rasps, nudging your thighs forward until you’re hovering over the puddle of his come, “Dip your cookie in Santa’s milk. Just like that.”

And you’re too far gone to even unpack the weird shit he just said, you just lower yourself down onto his soiled belly until you feel it seep through your folds. Your hips move almost on autopilot, dragging through the mess and honestly…feeling fucking heavenly. The slick slide of it over your core, the slip of his hair swirling in his own spend on each pass of your lips, the low rumble of Joel’s voice as he coaxes you on.

“That’s so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Seein’ my nut coatin’ that beautiful snatch. Can I take a picture of it?”

You nod, leaning back on your hands again while he retrieves his phone from his nightstand.

“Spread those messy lips open for the camera, sweet little sugarplum.”

You do as you’re told, tilting your hips up and using one hand to part your lips. You hear him snap a couple of photos and then he turns the phone around to you for your inspection. And it looks hot as hell. Your puffy cunt drenched in both of your fluids, his hairy, curved stomach very clearly soaked with the evidence of your activities.

“Send that to me.”

He smirks up at you and you watch his fingers move on his phone until you hear a buzzing in the heap of clothing on his floor. You lean down and put your weight on your elbows on either side of his head, lips ghosting over his mouth.

“Thank you, Santa,” You whisper, sealing your lips together.

He moans into your mouth as your tongue strokes along his. You suddenly feel something plopping onto your head and your eyes fly open, hands shooting to the top of it. Joel’s grin is incandescent as you realize he’s rehomed his Santa hat.

“Gross,” You groan, flicking at the fuzzy white ball at the end of it. “It’s all sweaty.”

“So that’s where we’re drawin’ the line now?” He jokes, stroking his thumb down your chin. “Looks better on you.”

“I dunno,” You impart nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze. “Didn’t look so bad on you.”

“I’ll be damned. You think I’m handsome, sugarplum?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Y’did. I heard it loud and clear.”

“Hearing things, old man,” You dismiss, dropping one more kiss to his lips and unstraddling his lap, your pussy making an entirely unsexy suctioning noise as you extract from the stickiness between you.

“That was fuckin’ hot,” Joel remarks, rolling onto his side and hauling you back towards the bed by the back of your thigh. You yelp quietly as you stumble forward on the carpet and feel Joel mouthing at your messy cunt.

“Ok, Jesus. Down, boy,” You giggle, shoving Joel’s head from between your legs. Joel’s smile doesn’t budge as his mouth shines with your shared spend.

“Sorry, baby. Just too fuckin’ tasty. Irresistible.”

“You’re ridiculous,” You mumble. “Where’s your fucking bathroom?”

“Door on the left,” He answers smugly, settling back in against his pillow with his hands clasped behind him, just as you’d found him, only sans his festive hat.

You roll your eyes, maybe with a smidge of affection, and head off to clean up.

“Mmm. Hate to see you go—”

“Don’t finish that,” You cut him off, not even looking over your shoulder as you go.

“Give her one Santa hat and suddenly she thinks she’s got allll the power,” He calls out after you as you slip into the bathroom, and you can’t wipe the stupid fucking grin off your face.

When you’ve relieved yourself and tidied up a bit, you re-enter his room with a clean washcloth.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” You raise a brow at him as you throw your leg over his thighs again and begin softly wiping at his belly.

“Ain’t nothin’ funny about this, baby. Just a nice view,” He says, unbothered against his pillows. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” You say as sternly as you can, but you can’t rein in your smile entirely as you do.

“I won’t,” He pauses, eyes flicking to your hat, “Mrs. Claus,” He ends with a smirk.

“Okay, we’re not…” You head him off, plucking the hat from your head and chucking it at his chest as he laughs and you try not to smile. “Keep that shit to yourself, please.”

“Whatever you say, sugarplum.”

You wipe at his stomach as the conversation settles, but not for long.

“Thanks for takin’ pity on me this joyous holiday season. Fuckin’ an old man and all.”

You glance up at him long enough to see the sly little upturn of his lips, his heavy, sleepy eyelids, and shake your head a bit as you focus back on your current task.

“You’re not so old,” You utter quietly, but you’re sure he hears it. “As far as I know, anyway. And you can still get it up. That’s what I care about.”

“Yeah? That all?”

You jot your eyes up to his face again, then quickly back to his stomach. “Yup.”

You see him stick out a lip and nod out of the corner of your eye, securing his hat back on his head. “Fair enough.”

You sit back on his thighs and toss the dirty rag into his overflowing hamper. “Well, thanks for my gift, Santa. I’ll forgive you for not wrapping it, I guess.”

Joel scoffs, squeezing at the side of your thigh. “You ain’t ask me to wrap a goddamn thing since the first time. Haven’t heard you complainin’ ‘bout it.”

“Guess not,” You muse, your fingers subconsciously filtering through your folds for a moment. “Anyway, I should go,” You mutter as you come back to yourself.

“Or you could stay,” He poses, gliding his thumb over your thigh. “Could play again later. I got all night.”

“I don’t think so,” You mumble, maneuvering back onto the floor and pulling your clothes on.

“Hey,” He calls softly, and you look up at him as you do up the fastenings on your trousers. He’s got a crease between his brows. “This is just fun. You and me. That’s all it’s gotta be, yeah?”

Your fingers stumble as they button up your blouse. “And that’s all it’s gonna be. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

You smooth out your collar and take a deep breath. “Yeah. So. Thanks for the fuck. It was good. Really good.”

His eyes roam over you and settle on your face. “Anytime, sugarplum.”

You nod once, resolutely, and head out the door. Next

YALL WE HAVE FANART!! Please check out this adorable depiction of Sleazy Santa Joel 😭😭

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

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shadow4-1 · 17 days

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I'm just imagining having a great track day with Ghost but getting so exhausted that the two of you fall asleep on the gym floor.

Like, you aced the hurdles and the dashes with no issue. The obstacle course wasn't even that with how you breezed through it. You had some issues with the rope climb, but Ghost had taught you the technique last session. And voila! You beat your last time and came out on top of the rookies once again.

Ghost was built for his brawn. While he also aced his turn, it was obvious he didn't have some of the dexterity you possessed and therefore had to put more energy into not knocking into things. He also came out on top of the rookies and over your time. You scoffed but offered him some water.

The summer was upon you, and with it, it's gentle heat that quickly turned to burning rage. You could feel a prickly tightness on the back of your shoulders and neck. Not sunburn quite yet, but probably close. The drier air wicked the moisture from your mouth as you panted.

"M' gonna head in." You huffed, gesturing to the gymnasium's open back door. "Do n' equipment check."

He nodded at you, the front of his mask rising and falling quickly. Something about seeing him pant in his mask tickled you. You headed towards the gym and the moment you stepped inside you couldn't help but sigh. The air conditioning was cool and refreshing. Instantly, you could feel the heat in your bones being drawn out towards your skin.

With a soft hum you began an equipment check. The longer you stood at the racks, check marking boxes and organizing the weights, you felt heavier and heavier. You checked the time, 12:45. No wonder you felt so drained.

It was the midday slump.

Well, as soon as you were done you could get a shower and probably get a nap before mess. The sound of the gym's back door closing made you jump. Oh no....

"Please tell me you didn't close that door." You whined at Ghost.

Just as you suspected, he still had his hand on the door handle. You facepalmed.

"Gaz has the keys. And he's not coming back till three."

"Wot 're you talkin' about?" Ghost huffed, trying the other set of gym doors. Just as you suspected, yeah, they were locked. He jiggled them firmly, eyes dark with annoyance.

"Thanks, Ghost. We're locked in here for awhile."

He went to try the locker room doors and those too were locked. You raised a brow at him but opted to sit against one of the bare walls. There was no point in getting upset.

Gaz would be back in a little while. Besides, the gym had the best air-conditioning out of all the buildings since it'd been first on the list for an upgrade last year. Even if you went back to your bunk, the the likelihood of getting a comfortable nap would be low.

You could hear Ghost messing with the door locks but you knew it was a lost cause. He didn't have the tools to open it, and if he brute forced it open Price would be on his ass for repairs. Just as you expected, it didn't take him long to give up.

"When's Gaz getting back?" He huffed, rolling up his longsleeve just enough to get a glance down at his sports watch.

"Three."

He set his watch's timer with a few beeps before crouching into a sitting position next to you. The next few minutes were spent in a cool silence. Occasionally the a/c units would hum to life, drone and puff cool air over your still hot body, and then click off.

"Didn't bring your phone?" He asked, voice more tired than usual.

"Nope. Left it in the locker room." You shrugged. "Didn't bring yours?"

"No." He muttered, glancing at the locker room with his eyes only.

More minutes ticked by. The cool linoleum leeched even more heat out of your skin. The overhead lights were motion activated, and so most of them had flicked off awhile ago. It was cool and dim and your body was tired from exertion.

You couldn't help but start nodding off.

"Falling asleep, Sergeant?" Ghost mused, looking down at you through the holes in his soft mask.

"Oh, don't act like you're not feeling it too." You huffed, curling up into your arms. "M' tired."

Ghost hummed. Whether in agreement, you couldn't tell. You didn't really care. How could you when sleep creeped in from the edge of your vision.

"Can I lean on you?"

"Wot?"

"Can I lean on you?" You asked him again. "I don't wanna lay on the floor but I wanna take a nap."

"Sure..."

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on the top of his arm. It was a bit uncomfortable with how firm it was at first but it was certainly softer than the floor. It didn't take long for you to feel your lids drooping again.

Right as you were pulled under, you felt Ghost shift. There was a warm presence against the crown of your head.

If you weren't half asleep you might've thought he'd kissed your forehead.

#call of duty #cod imagines #mw2 #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader

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a-is-away · 2 months

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eight step guide on how to study (as a third year pre-med student with ADHD and a 4.0)

welcome to my step by step guide on how to study. i have a love-hate relationship with studying, but this is what works to get me going. getting started is the hardest part, i promise.

step one: prep your space. get a glass of water or coffee or energy drink and make sure you have everything you need out and ready. throw your phone across the room or just put it out of sight. you will forget that other fun things exist (like tik tok) if you cannot see it. out of sight, out of mind.

step two: sit at your desk (or table or a general designated study space with a chair). studying in bed never works like you think it will and studying on the floor (while enriching) will do nothing but hurt your back from hunching over. sitting at your desk makes you feel much more productive (most of my study sessions start by just forcing myself to sit in my chair).

step three: put some music or ambience on. if i need to use my brain more i'll opt for some fantasy-themed forest ambience or sci-fi droning sounds. your brain is tricked into thinking that you're having fun if music is on, but plot twist! you're actually being productive. music i turn to is soft piano, video game soundtracks (genshin, undertale, minecraft, stardew valley) or lofi, but your mileage may vary. DO NOT do music with words unless you want to be distracted.

step four: make a list of need-to-dos and rank them based on priority and time. start by doing an activity that will take a short amount of time. by completing a short to-do, it builds the motivation to keep going.

step five: start a study timer. i bought a physical study timer that is so satisfying to wind and set and watch the time tick by, but a desktop one works just fine. set your timer based on how much energy you have. some days i go for 60 minutes, some days i do 25, it all just depends. as a study session goes on, it's normal for your amount of energy to go down. i may do 60-45-30-20 then take a long break. know thyself and thine needs!

step six: lock in. do not think about what you are doing, simply do it. do it before your brain has the chance to convince you it doesn't like what you're doing.

step seven: take regular, controlled, and useful breaks. do not start an activity on your break that will break your flow. walk around, stretch, check your phone, refill your drink, have a snack. reward yourself! you're doing great, i promise.

step eight: long break. do something that will rest your mind. maybe watch youtube, eat a meal, play a video game, read a few chapters of a book. be proud of the work you've accomplished.

i hope this helps! happy studying!

#study motivation #studyspo #study blog #studying #study aesthetic #studyblr #do your homework #motivation

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

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Task Force 141 + Reader (Callsign-Crash): friendship headcanons

a/n: Hello hello! Just some random headcanons that I had written down for Crash and her relationships with the members of the 141 team. Nothing romantic, just some wholesome stuff.

original gif by @collinnmckinley

also, this is really freaking long, sorry in advance. enjoy reading!

Before getting thrown out the window and getting her callsign, she was quiet and shy around the group. Opting to listen to others conversations, rarely adding to it.

Honestly intimidated with how tightly knit the team is, and given her previous team’s history, she was scared to get close.

Volunteered to be the DD whenever the group goes out to a bar. Fortunately, most of the time, Ghost is sober(enough) to help her get everyone into the car and into their rooms

Would silently comfort Soap and Gaz whenever they threw up, rubbing their backs and getting them water.

In the mornings after, she got everyone a breakfast burrito. Soap and Gaz are eternally grateful. Got a little information about her when they asked why she got them food. “Help with my hangovers during college.” Soap and Gaz gave each other a look as she walks away

After the window incident, Crash becomes a lot more open. Seeing how they treat her as if she has been with them for years, it wasn’t fair to them with how closed off she was.

Soap:

He talks to you a lot and you don’t mind. He just comes out and starts rambling on whatever he has interested him at that moment. You don’t really say anything, just sitting there awkwardly (because why would he want to talk to the newbie instead of his friends) but nodding to what he says anyways. One time though, he looks at you and says “Thanks for listening to me. It’s nice to have someone not tell me to ‘Shut the fuck up Mactavish.’”

Literally you after he tells you this:

“you’re my friend now. we’re having soft tacos later” vibes

Would send him memes and funny videos whenever you guys are on leave

His contact name on your phone is “Bubbles”

Would show you how to make bombs out of random shit. Set them off in bare fields or abandon buildings. Had a couple close calls

Will let you call him Johnny but you call him Mac instead.

“Aww, why not, lassie?”

“I’d rather not get my ass beat by your boyfriend.”

Calls you Lassie along with your callsign. When he wants to piss you off, he calls you Mini Ghost or Little Ghost

Like Ghost, you rarely take off your balaclava and tactical glasses

“The mask, take it off.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna.”

“You ugly?”

“Not as ugly as you old man.”

Has yet to seen you drunk though and he intends to get you there some day

Holds his hand when he’s throwing up

You would use him as a pillow during rides back to the base

The first person to tell him about any drama that’s happening in your life

Gives you advice about men

"Men are stupid, trust me, I am one."

Loves it when you would go on ramblings about the things you like. Anime confuses the hell out of him but he would always ask you about the plot and your favorite characters. He’d ask you about the current artist you listen to and has a list of recommendations from you so he could look them up when he gets home

After a mission gone wrong and believing that it was his fault, you seek him out, finding him sitting alone in the meeting room. You tell him

“It’s going to be okay. I trust you, John.”

He tears up and you wrap your arms around him.

Gaz:

With you two being the youngest, you bond over similar experiences

Sometimes share exactly one brain cell with each other. Sometimes you, Gaz and Soap share a brain cell

Brings out the chaotic gen z energy of each other

Your guys’ energy:

Follows each other on social media and would send each other tiktoks at ungodly hours

Kind of have a competition against each other to see who’s Price’s favorite child is

Gaz finally has someone who he can talk about anime with

Favorite shows to watch together: Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Similar music taste. The whole team listens to Queen, David Bowie, Pink Floyd and a few more others. However, Gaz and Crash have the same love of rap and indie pop. Anything they find on tiktok will be added to their shared Spotify playlist.

Gaz would ask about how college was like. He thought about going but ultimately for him, the military was the better option

“Were you part of a sorority?”

“Oh hell no. Loved going to the parties though. Always had top shelf vodka.”

“Really? Thought students couldn’t afford it.”

“When it comes to alcohol, we find a way.”

Share the same sentiment of feeling like they’re not doing enough in the team. After a particularly rough mission, you two would find a corner and just sit together in silence.

Would break the silence by quoting something from vine or tiktok and all things would be okay again

Price:

He has adoption papers ready

Crash, despite your name, is polite, respectful and responsible. Would always help Price clean up after meetings and briefs

Same with Soap, you would listen quietly to Price’s war stories and even his favorite fishing trips

Saw in your file about what happened to your old team and captain. Vows to never pull the same stunt as them

Sadden to see how you’re so young and has seen and dealt with many things already. It breaks his heart that there’s more that you’ll experience.

You, Soap and Gaz would do dumb shit all the time but you knew when it was the right time to bail. Of course, they would snitch on you to Price. You’d rarely get in trouble though

Basically you two:

Would gift him cigars from the countries you’d visit during leave

Also a matching set of torch lighters. His has a special green flame while yours is pink.

You don’t smoke anymore but you would hangout with him and help him finish reports together.

Price often thinks about a life where he didn’t join the military. A life of normalcy. To go to a home filled with life.

Would have loved to have kids and technically, he still can but his job makes it almost impossible.

But with Gaz and now you, you two are his pride and joy.

Would be the “hip” dad and will always ask about the new slang and memes

“This food is-what you kids call it...uh, busting!”

You and Gaz look at each other, “It’s bussin’.”

“This food is bussin’!”

Ghost:

Did not to want to get close to you at all.

Was honestly peeved when Price told him that he was going to mentor you

“I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

Surprised to see how short you were. All of the rumors and information he was told, they never mention your size

At first, he hated how you would follow him around like a lost puppy.

“Leave me alone, go bother Soap or something.”

Doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes but you turn around anyways.

Before you joined, he, Price and Laswell were all sitting in Price’s office, his phone on speaker. He was reading over your file before Price’s contact said

“She reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

He looks up from the folder, Price’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Laswell nodding.

“I think we’ll have her transferred to us,” Price replies.

Hates to admit but he’s impressed. Thought the rumors was bullshit but you proved him wrong, time and time again

You still have a lot of things to learn and even more practice to do but he believes in you

Does not go easy. He’s merciless. Has put you down countless times and reprimanded you more. You would always leave training sessions with a new bruise. The rest of the team gets concerned with his training methods.

But you still get up and you blink away the tears whenever he shouts at you

At about five months after you joined, on a mission, you spot an enemy behind him before he does and without a word, you quickly take your knife out and throw it towards the man behind him.

He opens his mouth to yell at you but he sees the enemy on the corner of his eye and watch him slump down. Your knife stuck in his bleeding neck

Gives you a nod after that. Pulling out your knife and handing it back to you

Knife throwing would be one of the training sessions you’d do. It was also a good time for some small chat

Finds out that you’re also a part of the “Dead Mom, Shitty Dad” club

It takes a year for him to SLIGHTLY open up to you

Told you about one of his favorite dishes his mom made and his favorite Queen song was ‘You’re My Best Friend’

Even told you how he likes his Earl Grey prepared

It scares him of how much you remind him of his mom and brother. You have her kindness and his determination. He will never tell you this

You, along with the team, become the very thing he cares about and will protect you to the best of his ability.

Bonus:

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shinesurge · 4 months

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Webcomic rings run by people within the community are cool and you should support them

I've been loudly struggling a little bit with corporate webcomic Stuff lately so I want to mention something positive to balance it out: webrings run by small groups of creators earnestly trying to support each other are slowly making a comeback and I for one am delighted.

If you weren't around for them in the before times, webrings were just some folks who hang out a lot who feature each other on their websites. That's literally it lmao. There's generally no money involved and it only really functions the way it's supposed to if people have control over their own websites AND genuinely want to participate and get excited about other folks' work, which means the practice has pretty well fallen by the wayside over the years in webcomic culture given. Everything. In the rare event someone decides to do something like this it's usually in the form of a link list somewhere on their website; this doesn't usually indicate any sort of mutual support, it's just a list of what the creator is reading themselves.

A webring, though, is an official banner or hub that people gather under intentionally where each member is more or less on equal footing. It's essentially the concept of "a rising tide lifts all boats" put into practice, each creator brings their own audience to the table in a passive, opt-in sort of way that's different from working for a publisher since there isn't necessarily a Top Spot or a paycheck everyone's vying for, and individuals retain autonomy over both their own work and how (if) they promote each other. You're all at your own tables in an artist alley rather than fighting over the table in the front of the book store, essentially.

I have two rings and one collective for you today!

Webcomic Ring was brought to my attention AGES ago by Holly, one of the artists featured there, and I might have brought it up at some point but I'm doing it again lmao. This is exactly the kind of thing you ought to be looking for; a small group of enthusiastic folks having a good time making their weird little comics. You probably haven't heard of much in the catalog, that's PERFECT in the context of webcomics that's where the GOOD SHIT is. Finding something like this is A Gift go dig around in the longboxes for a while.

Then a few people have pointed me in the direction of the KNIFEBEETLE collective and that's neat too! Most of the comics there are already fairly well-known, but the vibes are excellent and I haven't seen a lot of talk about the collective /itself/ outside folks already in the know. I think it's important for this sort of thing to be more visible to folks who aren't terminally steeped in webcomic culture already so here I am telling you about it. You were probably reading several of these before I suggested it, but that's how a webring works! For it to do its job you should take those bigger creators' tacit recommendation of the less popular titles as a sign to go read something new and strange. Wild, I know these are practices held over from the old internet, but I think we should try and bring them back.

Lastly, I want to mention Spiderforest, which is a collective (slightly different from a webring) BUT still a very cool project readers starved for new stuff should pay attention to.

You've probably seen Spiderforest kicking around for a long time already; they're wonderful and have always been an overall positive force in the community in my experience. They really focus on building up a community, and especially welcoming newcomers and helping them get their feet under them. Full disclosure, I've been asked to apply by a few different folks over the years and the only reason I never did is I don't have the ability to participate in their forums and such as frequently as they want their creators to; it's a very good system (from my outside perspective) that might contribute to the community staying mostly healthy in ways that art communities usually don't and I appreciate it a lot!

ANYWAYS that's all I got for now, just trying to balance out some bad feelings I've been having by talking about some good stuff. Please go binge an archive this week.

#long post #contrary to what i say i do love webcomics so fucking much #there are Reasons i'm fucking angry all the time lmao

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thornbutch · 7 months

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One Night Only (Pt. 2) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader, (brief) Andre Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Past experiences have wrecked Jordan’s perception of their true feelings. The pretty girl from a week ago isn’t making their situation any better. Cue angst and car sex.

Tags: Jordan Li x fem!reader, Gen V, Jordan Li is a toxic, jealous, sexy piece of shit, cursing, angst, sensitive reader, sapphic make out sesh, Corruption kink, smut, mature content, Jordan might be a little OOC? Sorry. I wrote this in two hours.

Word Count: 2.7k

Jordan Li was probably the most confusing human being she had ever encountered. Ever since that night, he had been ignoring her. She’d see him in the courtyard at lunch, wave, and be disappointed when he didn’t wave back. She knew he saw her. What was his problem?

A week went by since the night she entangled with Jordan. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Jordan didn’t see her as anything but a one-night stand. She couldn’t explain why she felt so hurt by this. Maybe Jordan regretted what happened. Or maybe she was some kind of revenge hook-up? She had dealt with that before; her body being used to make someone else jealous. But that didn’t seem like a thing Jordan would do. On the other hand, she didn’t know Jordan much. She knew he was number five on the list. She knew that he had been Dr. Brink’s TA, but other that, his story was a mystery to her.

The next time she saw him, she was determined to get his attention. She didn’t care if she embarrassed him. How dare he treat her like trash? He owed her an explanation. If she had did something wrong, she’d like to know. If he wished he could forget that night, she had a right to know. She doesn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. He didn’t have to fuck her again, but he could’ve at least waved or said hello when he saw her in public.

She had gotten information from Maverick, the dorm’s resident assistant. She demanded to know where Jordan’s room was in the sweetest way. She fluttered her eyelashes and put her hands together in a praying form, begging him over and over to tell her until he finally did.

“God, you freshman are so fucking annoying! Can’t a guy jerk off in peace?” She didn’t have time to wonder if he was jerking off in that moment, due to his invisibility. She’d question him again later on that, because ew.

She made her way to Jordan’s room, knocking on the door once, twice, three times.

“Coming!” She heard a feminine voice shout from behind the door.

Had she arrived at the wrong room? No, Mark was adamant on the floor level and room number.

Plus, she recognized that smell of hefty cologne from the night Jordan fucked her senseless.

So who was-

Oh. She had approximately five seconds to walk, no sprint, away from this situation. She could’ve made it behind a wall or scurried off into a communal bathroom. She had time.

But she stood there, dumbfounded and hurt.

The girl from the other side opened the door, “Can I-“

She stood there.

Her doe eyes brimmed with tears. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? She didn’t own Jordan. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Wrong door.”

Before the girl had anything to say, she was running down the hallway and exiting the building.

. . .

That was all it took for her to move on. Now, she was back to her normal self. Fuck Jordan Li, and fuck whoever that girl was at the door.

She was undoubtedly pretty, but also handsome at the same time. She kind-of looked like Jordan a bit, but she highly doubted it was a relative. Some guys were into shit like that, fucking the “girl” versions of themselves.

Ick.

She was tired of parties. They were fun, sure. It was nice to get out and get drunk and fuck here and there, but she needed an escape from that environment. She opted to go to a bar instead, one of the local ones near campus that served as a hot spot for the students.

She put on a black, tubed dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She chose one of her favorite leather jackets to match with it and similar-looking black leather boots that came up just below her knee. It was different than what she’d normally wear. The white dresses, jean skirts, and pink accents made her look cute, but it seemed like people took advantage of that. They thought she was naïve and not aware of their schemes.

She was smart, that much was evident. As pretty as she was, she was also sexy, and she’d be damned if she didn’t own that shit.

The bar was far quieter than the frat parties, but still loud nonetheless. Supes and normals mingled here. One thing they both had in common was their love for alcohol. It seemed to bring them together and offer peace against outside situations.

The moment came when she was asked if someone could buy her a drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair and deep black eyes. He was good-looking, she couldn’t deny that.

“I’m a freshman,” she stated. The man laughed.

“You say that like I’m old,” he said as he bought himself a drink, “I’m only a junior.”

She smiled, knowing that he was in her age range and a fellow student calmed her. “I’m (Y/n).”

He took a sip from his glass, “Andre,” he replied, “You have a coin on you?”

She nodded, reaching into her black velvet purse to retrieve a quarter. She handed it to him, and he examined it thoroughly.

“Look,” he held the quarter between his forefinger and thumb, “If I could make this-“ she watched as the quarter transformed before her eyes, the metal twisting and bending to create the shape of a bird, “into her drink-“ he looked over at a woman sitting down, holding a champagne glass in her hand, “then you have to come home with me.”

“Oh, I have to?” She smirked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he shrugged and grinned back, “Just enforce them.”

Before she could reply, she felt a familiar presence loom over her. She turned around, met with a firm chest and a heavy scent.

Jordan.

“She’s not into your lame ass party tricks, Andre,” Jordan said.

Andre scoffed, blistering a false offended look on his face, “Lame? C’mon, Jordan, don’t be like that.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “She’s not interested, got it?”

Andre rolled his eyes as well, his fists bawled up and the once floating medal bird turned into a dense ball, “It’s 2023. Women can speak for themselves.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at you, finally including you in on the conversation that he interrupted, “Are you interested?”

She was taken aback by the question. She sputtered a little, swapping glances between Andre and Jordan. Whatever this was, she did not want to be apart of it. Fuck Jordan for ruining this.

“No.” She said. Andre held his hands up in defeat, grabbed his drink, and walked away from the bar and into the crowd. She turned back to Jordan then and stood up. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said.

She pushed him then. “No, fuck you. Fuck you for being an asshole to me all this week and then popping up to ruin-“

“Ruin what, exactly? Where you going to go home with him, huh? Fuck him, too? Let him see you the way I saw you?”

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it. His grip was tight and bruising. A few bystanders gathered around them.

“Let’s go to my car.” Jordan tugged her towards the exit. She barely had time to register what was going on before she felt the cold breeze of the night air swift through her nostrils and blow on her exposed skin.

He opened the passenger door for her. A gentleman. What kind of gentleman would dare to ask to her that way? Just who did he think he was? Her fucking boyfriend?

She got in, and he slammed the door closed. She stared out the window as he felt the car dip a little with the weight of Jordan getting in on the driver’s side.

The car was silent.

“Are we playing the quiet game or something?” .

She nodded.

He sighed, “Look, you have every right to hate me-“

“I do.”

“-but I need to explain something to you.”

She could feel her anger bubbling up. Her knees bounced against the car floor. She continued to stare out the window. “Explain.”

“The girl you saw, she was-“

Oh, not this lousy and overused excused. He really thought she was dumb. It wasn’t just something she had made up in her mind. This was evidence.

She turned, tears just about to spill past her eyelids, “Your sister? Your cousin? Your best friend?” She scoffed, “You think I’m stupid. You ignore me for a week, a week, Jordan. Then you decide you can whisk me away like you’re some kind of Prince Charming?”

“That’s not-“

“You embarrass me in front a cute guy because what? You’re jealous? You don’t like to see your one-night stand hooking up with other people but don’t mind not bothering to wave back when she waves at you?”

“(Y/n)-“

“But maybe I am stupid. You asked if I was interested, and I said no. You opened the door for me, and I got in. You folded my panties and tucked me in and left and treated me like I didn’t exist.”

Jordan watched intently as she spewed all the horrible shit they had done to her. They didn’t think it would affect her so much. They’d hate to be ignored, too, but they’d get over it. They could tell she convinced herself she was over them, over the entire situation. If she was moved on, she wouldn’t have turned down Andre’s offer, and she wouldn’t have entered their vehicle.

“-and now you’re not fucking listening, great.” She folded her arms and dramatically laid back against the seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her makeup was ruined. Black streaks of mascara coated the skin.

“I’m sorry,” they said. “You’re right. Not about the stupid thing, the fucked up thing. It was wrong of me to ignore you, I just…” Jordan breathed in shakily. This was so out of character for them. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

She turned towards the window again, staring at her own reflection.

“And… the girl you saw wasn’t my sister, cousin, or best friend,” They could feel their chest tightening, “She was me.”

She watched in the reflection as Jordan morphed into the girl she had seen earlier. She turned back sharply, completely in shock at what she just witnessed.

“You-“

“Yeah. I’m bigender, or whatever the fuck,” Jordan sighed. They felt vulnerable in this form. They tucked a strand of their longer black hair behind their ear and looked beyond the front windshield, “I didn’t want you thinking that I-“

“That you’re into women who look like you?” She responded.

“Yes,” Jordan snorted, “But I was going to say that I wasn’t using you. Or- I didn’t use you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Do you normally fuck girls and abandon them?”

“I normally don’t get jealous when I see someone else flirting with them,” they looked at her then, “I didn’t like what I saw. When he flirted with you using his medal-bending ability. It was corny.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping away her tears, “It was kind of corny.”

Jordan nodded, “I was… afraid. I’m not used to feeling like this, but I am used to it at the same time. Girls, they fuck me in my masculine form and want nothing to do with me in my feminine form. Guys are vice versa.”

She listened to every word coming from their mouth.

“I guess I’ve grown accustomed to blocking people out without asking if they’d accept both versions of me.”

The car was quiet once more.

“Accustomed,” she whispered, “that’s a big word.”

Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I don’t mind,” she was no longer looking at them, instead focusing on her hands that she held in her lap, “I wouldn’t have judged you. I’m not judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“I think you’re the most handsomest and prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” she said.

They could feel their ears tint with red.

“I understand why you were nervous, but I wish you would’ve talked to me before doing all of this,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,” she faced them, bringing her hands to cup their soft jawline, “I forgive you.”

Their lips met with hers, but not like how they did at the frat party. This time was more passionate, sweeter, and less rough. She broke the kiss to climb over the armrest and straddle them. Jordan leaned the chair back as far as it would go to give her enough room to sit on their lap. She took off her leather jacket. Their hands held onto her waist, keeping her in place. She liked being on top and knowing that she had no control. They liked being underneath her and knowing that they were still the dominant one.

They began to kiss each other harder. More hunger. They craved her. She must’ve worn this black outfit in retaliation. She looked pretty in white. She looked pretty in black. She looked pretty naked. She was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen, and now they had her right where they wanted her.

She had been hogging their memory ever since that night. They’d slip their hands into their pants during late hours of the night, fondling their clit and breathing her name in heavy gasps as they imagined her touching them. They pinched their nipples, imagining her biting them. They wanted to see her between their thighs, eating them out with her back arched and her eyes closed because she was so into it.

“Am I doing good?” They imagined she would say.

They’d tell her she was doing amazing as they fucked their pussy onto her face.

They’d have to take a late-night shower, having soaked their boxers in their secretion. Their shirt would stick to their back from how hot they were and how much they were sweating during a simple masturbation session.

They wondered if she touched herself. Maybe she was so pent up with frustration that she couldn’t help but fuck it out of herself. She’d use two fingers right off the bat. Her legs would be spread open, and her clothes discarded into a heap at the edge of her bed.

“Jordan,” she’d moan.

“Jordan,” she moaned.

They were brought back to the present, pulling away from her lips. Both of their chests rise and fell with great intensity. They bought their hand up to her face, placing their thumb on her lip and parting them. She opened willingly, allowing their thumb to enter her wet cavern.

She sucked feverishly, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed. They could feel how wet they were in their stiff jeans.

She pulled their thumb out of her mouth with a barely audible pop!

“I want to touch you,” she said.

Yes, yes, please, yes.

She pulled up their shirt, revealing a flat stomach that had the shadows of their abs present. They didn’t wear a bra. She was very understanding of that, too. It’d be extremely uncomfortable for them to shift and feel the hard clasps of the bra digging into their back.

She cupped their breast tenderly, swiping her thumb over the nipple. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d been with women before. Was she an expert? Or was she just doing what she did when she touched herself?

She pinched and they shifted unexpectedly. She leaned back, her ass hitting the steering wheel and blaring the horn.

It was quiet for the third time.

They apologized for startling her. She told them it was okay.

Then, she busted out laughing, falling onto them. They laughed, too.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“A sign for what?”

“To take me back to your place.”

She didn’t have to say anything else.

#gen v #jordan li #fem4fem #gen v fanfiction #andre anderson #ooc #sapphic #angst #jordan li smut #smut #reader insert #x reader #Spotify

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mrsjellymunson · 3 months

Text

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Prologue

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing’s Stranger Prompts, Prompt 1. He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?

Chapter Summary: On a stormy night, an unexpected visitor arrives.

WC: 1.14k

Series C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW. I mean it, if you’re under 18, git! Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes. Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Swearing. Not much to caution about in this part, unless you don’t like rain, or bad decor.

A/N: This series contains a lot of things I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, lemme know in a comment, ask or message ��💗

Skip to Part One

My masterlist

You’re holed up in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s not exactly remote, but the nearest building is little more than a speck on the horizon so you feel pretty isolated. Owens organised it, explaining it would be a good idea for the older members of the party to lay low for a little while. Nancy had put forward an excellent argument for remaining with her family, but you, Robin and Steve had reluctantly packed up some of your belongings and relocated here. For how long, you don’t know.

It’s no palace. The wood-built building is certainly past its best, the yellowing 50s kitchen barely functional and the faded decor not to anyone's taste. But it’s (mostly) warm, (usually) dry, and most importantly, it feels safe. Which is something you all need after the events of the past few months.

You’re all acutely aware of the obvious gap in your merry band. Owens had insisted that the three of you didn’t attend the funeral, but he’d involved you as much as he could, ferrying messages between you and the kids and Wayne, discussing what he would’ve wanted to wear (you all agreed on his spare Hellfire shirt and leather jacket, knowing he’d never want to be separated from either, plus a brand new, government-funded pair of black 501s), and sneaking mementoes to you with Wayne’s approval.

Mike and Will have taken charge of his D&D paraphernalia, Dustin got his wallet chain (and wears it with literally everything, even his Weird Al shirts and colourful shorts), and Lucas opted for a small pocket knife. You, Steve and Robin each have one of his rings. Steve and Robin keep theirs in their rooms, but you wear the silver skull every day. It’s too big for your fingers, and is even a little loose on your thumb, but that’s where you keep it, spinning it to ease your anxiety, and smoothing the pads of your fingers over its bumpy surface to remind you of the friend you’ve lost. Rueing the fact that you always wanted him to be more than that, but never had the chance to find out whether he felt the same.

The kids visit periodically, even staying over sometimes, nobody expecting anyone to be watching the comings and goings of a bunch of nerdy teens. Nancy drops them off, sometimes staying, sometimes not. On this occasion she’d dropped and run, explaining that she was going to visit Max in the hospital tomorrow, spending some quality girly time with her. Lucas, who usually spent every spare moment by her bedside, was going to spend the weekend here, after Max, still seriously ill but now well enough to communicate, insisted that he needed to spend at least a bit of time with his old friends.

Tonight, you’d had a movie marathon, Keith developing an uncharacteristically generous side since everything kicked off and periodically dropping off and collecting piles of VHS tapes. Not quite generous enough to bring you any brand new releases, but even things you’ve seen before are better than the ‘sweet FA’ you’d have available given the nonexistent TV reception around here.

Popcorn litters the floor and the saggy furniture, as do gangly boys and a long-haired girl. Jane has commandeered the sole armchair, sitting in it cross-legged, and you, Steve and Robin are squashed onto the sofa with an equally squashed Dustin, the latter insisting that there was definitely room for one more.

Mike and Will are on the floor between the sofa and the old, battered coffee table. Mike’s hunched over a bowl of chips that he’s shovelling in, and Will is leaning against your legs, you stroking his hair in a way you know he finds comforting. Lucas is lounging on the floor at the side of the table, his long body stretched out and his head supported on threadbare throw pillows.

The gentle patter of drizzly rain against the windows and roof, and the crackle of the open fire, one of your only sources of heating, gives the evening a cosy feel, though you hope the rain doesn’t get any heavier as you don’t entirely trust the roof over the rear extension to cope with much more meteorological abuse.

You’ve just finished Raiders Of the Lost Ark and Steve has got up to swap it out for The Stuff, when there’s a strong gust of wind and the rainfall picks up significantly. Great, you think, the weather gods definitely weren’t listening to your silent pleas.

None of you notice Jane stiffening in her seat and shifting uncomfortably.

Under the lashing of the wind and rain there’s a sudden noise at the front door. Not urgent, not loud, just two soft thuds. If the kids had been roughhousing or the film had been on you may even have missed them.

You all look at each other, instantly and equally on edge, and all hoping that somebody, anybody, will provide a simple explanation for this.

Steve’s the first to speak. Jaw slack and brow furrowed, he asks the room, “Uhh, did anyone order takeout?”

There’s a cacophony of ‘no’s’ and shaken heads, before another soft thud is heard, just one this time.

Steve steels himself, not for the first time realising that it’s his responsibility to investigate the possibly terrifying, and potentially life-threatening, situation. He stands from his position by the video player and moves towards the door, fingertips skimming the top of the bat that’s always to the side of it, before closing his hand softly around the handle.

He pulls back the sliding bolts before twisting the lock and pulling the door open just a crack, leaving the chain on. The noise of the weather increases in volume, but other than that there’s no indication of what’s on the other side.

Steve has his back to you so you don’t see his eyes go wide, but you do hear a soft, “Wh- What the fuck?”

Robin being Robin, and perpetually thinking about her stomach, she says,

“What is it, doofus? Pleeease tell me it’s Jonathon and Argyle dropping by from Cali with some delicious Surfer Boy pizza??”

“Uh, no, it’s, uh- You know what? Maybe you should just come and see for yourself. Wait, scratch that, just the adults.”

Knowing this will unwittingly pique the interest of the kids more than if he’d just allowed everyone to come look, you and Robin glance at each other before quickly rising and moving to the door.

Steve closes it and takes off the chain, opening it wide as the three of you arrive, the kids following close behind and trying to look between you.

There, hunched, shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.

Eddie.

Continue to Part One

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.

Extra tags: @jamdoughnutmagician @joejoequinnquinn

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hwanchaesong · 1 month

Text

Chatoyant (Soulmate) Preview

pairing: Jay X F!Reader

synopsis: You've never believed in the braided vermillion strings that are supposedly tied in your pinky, where the other end is where you'll find your beloved. Not until you're standing in the middle of a story ridden room.

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

You listened to Jay, your class representative, in boredom as he lists the do's and don'ts for your next destination. Apparently, it's some kind of history museum where millions of stories are etched on the items that are displayed there.

Certainly picked your interest, but not enough to make you excited.

"I want to go to the amusement park instead." your friend Sunghoon, who was sitting next to you muttered, to which you agreed to an extent, but hey, this is your country's archive, might as well enjoy it while you can.

You groaned and stretched your back when you got off the bus, a chuckle caught your attention so you turned with a frown, catching Jay red-handed on his attempt to cover up his amusement.

"You think this is funny? My back aching is worth the lols?" you asked in disbelief, making small talk with the man.

"You acting like an old woman is funny." he corrects, patting your shoulder in a casual manner, "Come on, let's get inside. It's too hot here."

He trudged towards the museum, leaving you there with your thoughts for a moment.

The touch felt like a zing, it's always been like that. Conversing with him was easy as a pie, skinship was rare but when it did happen, it's pure electricity. Although, you may put this in the 'I admire you type of crush' instead of overthinking things.

You shrugged, entering the building and occupying yourself with the exhibit.

It was nice, finding some statues or swords cool. Jake triggers your ijbolitis when he starts lecturing you and Sunghoon about the legend of whatever sculpture it was that caught his attention. (you have to admit, he's an adorable nerd)

Sunghoon begged you to stay, but you blew him a kiss and left him with the aussie, opting to enter a room that you haven't explored yet.

When you step foot inside though, a gush of air suddenly hits you. Which was weird, to say the least, since there are no open windows around, surely the place is airconditioned.

You sighed, brushing it off and sauntering towards the small bulletin, there you learned that the room is full of trinkets between two lovers, torned apart by the war.

A story of an empress and her general.

Then, time seemed to stop when you finally set your eyes on the largest painting hanging by the wall.

You felt a pang in your heart, especially when you saw the letters that they had exchanged. The clothes, jewelry, all of their personal belongings felt so... intimate.

It was uncanny and you dumbly stood there, thinking and staring at the art because it looks exactly like-

"It's like I'm looking right into a mirror."

A familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind and you gasped, losing your balance when you accidentally twisted your ankle in surprise, but fear not, your knight in shining armor dramatically caught you.

"Woah there," Jay peered at you with concern, "Are you okay?"

Will it be a bad decision on your part if you say that this is more than okay?

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Study Buddy 1

Warnings: this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Inspired by this

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I'm always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment 💕

Group assignments are your worst nightmare. You’ve never been a fan of doing all the work while your classmates sit around and waste time. It’s one of the many reasons you opted for an online program over in-class learning. At least, you’d thought it would solve that problem.

How wrong you are. The second assignment and your task is to write a book review with a partner. Wonderful.

Worse than being the work horse, you’re just as much a pushover. How many times did you let the others speak over you and end up researching a topic you didn’t even care about? And all so they can coast off your efforts.

You sigh and look at your phone. You're nervous. It’s after three, they’re late. Or maybe not coming at all.

You frown and put your cell face down. You offered an online meeting with your assigned partner. You even made suggestions; Zoom, Whatsapp, Teams… They said they preferred to meet face-to-face, you were too reluctant to counter that you don’t. Again, rolled right over.

What was their name again?

You snatch up your phone again and check the short conversation. Terse responses to your overly quizzical messages. Walter. Your mind builds a stringy character with square glasses and a World of Warcraft tee shirt.

You stare at your last message. You told him you were there in the library, down in the basement where it’s not as busy. You think you included enough description of where; just between reference and biographies.

You minimize the chat and tap the learner portal shortcut pinned to your homescreen. It redirects to a browser and you sign in. No new announcements or notification. You scroll through the homescreen aimlessly.

You hear the heavy door to the stairs open and close and you flinch. You look up and see a man in an unzipped jacket with a messenger bag hanging off his shoulder. He’s tall and broad and his curls are slightly mussed with his expedience. He peers around and you sink into your seat.

Not him. He’s too old. Definitely not the ‘Walter’ sort.

You bring the chat back up, ready to text; ‘you on your way?’ Not anything accusatory, just checking in. Before you can hit send, someone clears their throat. You look up as that man stands across the table from you.

He says your name and you lower your phone, frowning as you straighten in your seat. Really?

“Oh, hi, Walter?” You utter.

“Mm, yeah,” his voice is more of a growl as he pulls out a chair and drops into it.

He puts his bag on the table as you lock your phone and set it aside. You swallow and grip the edges of your closed laptop. You watch him shrug out of his jacket. He lets it drop back over the chair which seems too small for him.

He’s not what you expected. At all. Not the sort you thought to meet in a creative writing program.

He inhales and rubs his forehead, “shoulda grabbed a coffee,” he grumbles. “Sorry I’m late, got held up.”

“It’s okay,” you eke out, running your fingers up and down the sides of your laptop. His eyes fall to the movement and you stop, opening the lid instead, “well, I was looking through the shared Doc, going through the suggestions…”

He hums and nods, an elbow on the table as he leans in, listening to you intently. Your voice wobbles as you speak only to keep yourself distracted, “I like the list but I’m not sure if they fit the parameters of the assignment.”

“How so?” He challenges.

“Oh, well, I… I don’t know, I was just reviewing the guidelines– if you think they do, I’m open to discussion–”

“And your suggestions? Girls’ books. I don’t wanna read those.”

You wince and bring your eyes up to meet his. You can’t tell if he’s glaring or that’s just the way he looks. You notice the few strands of silver woven through one of his curls. How old is he?

“Right, I’m not ruling anything out,” you sniff, “I did like this one. In The Woods? It sounded interesting, my only concern is it’s the first in a series.”

“So?”

“So nothing,” you wilt again, “sorry, well, how about that one? We can see if they have any copies we can take out here–”

“I have one,” he grits out. You don’t understand why you met in-person. He hardly seems to like chatting and you’re not better at it.

“Sure, okay, well, I’ll take care of getting a copy for myself,” you say, “we should set a date to read it by… I guess you already have… but we can make notes in the Doc. I’ll add a new section here.”

He huffs, a stormy gale that makes you shiver. What luck. You always did get the best partners for these things. You wonder if it’s too late to reach out to the instructor. No, that’s too much. It’s only your first meeting, you’re still strangers.

“Are you really taking this course so you can write those love stories?” He asks.

Your eyes flick up and your blanch, “what?”

“I wouldn’t let my daughter read those books. They set a bad example for girls,” he snarls.

“Oh, I didn’t… I… I want to write fantasy but er…” you stammer, his judgment scalding. “Let me just finish here.”

You turn your attention back to the screen. You go up to the list of book titles and erase the ones you put in. Your cheeks are on fire.

“You don’t have to delete them.”

“No, we don’t need them. We made our choice,” you insist with a tremor.

“Hm, shoulda figured.” You stop and once more peer over your laptop screen, “don’t have to be so sensitive. Can’t be a good writer if you can’t take criticism.”

“I wasn’t…” you begin and shrug off the argument. “Thanks, you’re right.”

He squints and tilts his head, “you also need life experience. No one wants to read a story about nothing.”

You gulp and bat your lashes at him. Wow, he’s mean.

“You don’t know me,” you quaver.

“Can guess a lot from someone’s bookshelf,” he says. “It’s my job to read people.”

“You’re job…” you wrinkle your nose, “well, then why are you taking a writing course?”

He pushes his shoulders back and inhales, “some people have something to say.”

The inference of his statement stings. You won’t debate him. You don’t know him and he doesn’t know you. Apparently, he doesn’t want to get to know you either. You’re not even sure why he came.

“Well, I think we have our next steps,” you push out your brittle voice.

“Sure do,” he checks his watch, “let me know if you need me to explain anything.”

He stands and grabs his coat and bag. You just sit there, watching him dumbly, “thanks, I will,” you murmur.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #study buddy #drabble #series

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cottonlemonade · 1 month

Text

A Simpler Life [Part 1]

word count: 1585 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

____________________________________________

When you decided on a clean break and moved to the little country home, you finally got your long harbored wish of a manageable veggie patch as well as a few fruit planters, breathing clear fresh air that the city life had you only dream about for so many years. At first, of course, the people were suspicious of the newcomer - the foreigner-city girl who came to their part of Hyogo with no clear intention but when you greeted each of them warmly around town and offered an open door if anyone ever needed help, they soon treated you as one of their own. The grandmothers of the neighborhood soon kept an eye out for any eligible bachelors because “it‘d be such a shame if a pretty girl like ya would be all lonesome in that house of yers“ but while grateful for their concern, you were happy on your own.

Although, that didn‘t stop you from falling for your neighbor as soon as you met him.

Your first impression of Kita was that he was polite, caring and warm but maybe a bit shy. He bowed his head with a smile when he passed by your front yard in the evening heading to his house, looking exhausted but satisfied. You wondered if he lived alone, too, because no one else seemed to be going in or out of the modest traditional nouka.

You were privately looking forward to the evenings when you could catch a glimpse of him and bask even for just a second in the sunshine of his smile.

This went on for a week or so of you two simply exchanging nods, waves and smiles until, “Good evenin‘.“, he greeted.

The buzzing of cicadas filled the air. You were tending to your garden, having opted to weed in the milder evening rather than the afternoon sun. A straw hat on your head, muscles already straining from the unfamiliar work, you straightened, trying to suppress a groan. “And to you.“, you replied, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, smearing some soil on your skin in the process.

“It‘s really comin‘ together.“, he noted and nodded towards the healthy green surrounding your ankles.

Don‘t blush, you told yourself. “Thank you.“, you beamed, “I am worried about my tomatoes, though. They look a bit peaked.“

You pointed to some sad little plants on the end of your veggie patch.

With professional eyes he wandered along the fence to inspect them.

“Oh, yea, they might have had a bit too much sun and not enough water. Don‘t worry, happens to all of us.“, he smiled, “I have some extra starters in my greenhouse. Ya can have a couple if ya like. I always grow more in case bugs get to ‘em.“

“Oh, really?“

“Sure, come by tomorrow to pick ‘em up.“

“Thank you so much!“

“What else have ya got here?“, he now leaned on the fence post, examining the rest of the plants. You listed the few you had.

“Ya might wanna add sugar snap peas. They‘re easy to grow and the yield is really good.“

“Noted! But I might have to wait until next season, I don‘t think I have enough space for any more.“

“Ya can grow ‘em nicely in planters. I can build ya one. It‘s not difficult.“

Your heart did a little jump. “Are you sure it‘s not too much trouble?“

“Neighbors gotta stick together, right?“, he grinned and stood back up, “I‘mma let ya get back to it.“ and he made to leave.

“W-wait!“

He turned back to you.

“One of the grannies in town gave me a bunch of fresh greens and tofu today. My fridge doesn‘t work yet so I‘m worried it’ll go bad. Would you like to join me for dinner?“

He blinked. For a moment you weren‘t sure if you hadn‘t been too forward but then Kita nodded and walked around the fence to your gate. Oh my, somehow the fence had underplayed his handsomeness. As he stood right in front of you, arms tan and taut with lean muscles from a day‘s work and a towel tied around his neck you forgot to talk for a second.

“This way.“, you gestured to the front door.

“Don‘t ya wanna finish up weedin’ first?“

“But…“

“I‘ll help ya.“

“But…“

And he got to work. Of course, his practiced hands got the job done so much faster than you and where you had only managed a fourth of the patch he finished up the rest in no time.

Kita knelt on a seating pillow you had laid out around your coffee table, patiently waiting for you to plate up the hearty stew alongside some grilled tofu and rice. You figured he must be starving after all that hard manual labor. But to your surprise he ate slowly, chewed carefully and seemed to savor the taste.

“It‘s delicious.“, he said and let out a small content sigh, “I usually don‘t have much energy to cook in the evenin’s. This is great, thank ya.“

So he did live alone. How the masses of overzealous grandmothers in town hadn‘t flocked together to feed this man yet was a mystery to you.

In all honesty, Kita didn‘t agree with the people in town who said you were “pretty“. “Pretty“ didn‘t do you justice. He thought you were breathtaking. Because that‘s how he felt when he talked to you for the first time. Like his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. Your genuine smile when he complimented your cooking now had a permanent place in his mind - framed it hung at the very top where he could always admire it throughout his day. Where his thoughts were usually busy with plans for the following morning or simply quiet, while his hands moved automatically through the water in the fields, they were now interlaced with you. Your twinkling eyes when he told you he would build you a planter, your cute protests when he offered to help you weed that tiny little veggie patch as if it was the most daunting task ever encountered and your voice, bright and lively as you told him about yourself upon his request. His grandmother had told him many stories growing up, about right and wrong, patience, kindness and fate. She told him when two people were meant for each other, their souls would recognize it and be drawn to the other by some unseen force. Back then, young Kita wasn‘t exactly sure what to make of it. It sounded very fantastical and without any data to back it up he thought it was another one of his grandmother‘s folktales. Now he wasn‘t so sure anymore because you were his first and last thought of the day.

He doubted that someone as beautiful and worldly as you would consider him as a match but he was merely glad to know he could be of help and make your life a little easier. After dinner the previous night he had told you he had some business in the city the next day and you could please wait for him at his place in the afternoon to collect your promised tomato starters. He had spent the morning making sure the little plants were in top shape, selecting the very best of the bunch. He was eager to get back home but as per usual, city traffic had other ideas.

Every couple of seconds he glanced at the clock on the truck‘s dashboard, hoping he didn‘t make you wait too long.

When he finally pulled into his driveway he spotted you sitting on his porch, his black and white dog lounging in your lap, getting his ears massaged.

A bundle lay next to you.

The dog‘s tail thwacked on the wooden porch as he approached.

“Ya look comfortable.“ He had meant it to his (guard) dog but somehow it seemed like your full cheeks got a bit of color.

“I hope I haven't kept ya waitin‘.“

“It‘s fine.“, you said simply, “I had great company.“ You petted the dog's head again who let out a happy huff.

Kita grinned and looked towards one of his greenhouses. “I‘ll go grab the tomatoes.“

You were brushing some dog hairs off your pants when he returned. Without meaning to, he searched your hands for an indication of a wedding band but shook his head when he caught himself.

He held out the tray with the starters.

“Thank you so much! They look great. And here.“, you bent down to exchange the tray for the bundle, “Since you said you wouldn‘t accept any money for them I made you dinner instead.“

His eyes widened. “Ya didn‘t have to.“

You shrugged. “I know, but it wouldn‘t feel right otherwise. And it‘s not like it‘s even close to an equal trade once these start producing.“

He was a little disappointed. After all, he had practiced inviting you to have dinner with him his entire drive back, but having more of your cooking was the next best thing, he supposed.

The following morning you found the bundle neatly wrapped on your doorstep, the large square bento box inside had been thoroughly cleaned and a note replaced the food “It was really delicious. Thank you very much. - Kita“.

Your heart stumbled when you stared at the neatly written words and grinning so hard your cheeks started to hurt, you pinned it to a little cork board next to the door.

____________________________________________

a/n: thank you so much to @makkir0ll for helping me hatch this ostrich-sized brain egg 🌟🫶🏻

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[part 2]

#kita x chubby reader #kita shinsuke x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #kita fluff #hq kita #kita x reader

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writing-in-the-impala · 3 months

Text

Secret Smokes (Part 12)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 3190

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading and leaving lovely comments every time, you are literally my motivation and fuel to keep posting I truly love you all

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 12, Next Chapter

Remus's office had become your private safe space, you would go there as often as possible without raising suspicions that you weren't in your dorm. You wouldn't sleep there most night but you would sit and listen to music, chat and cuddle before reluctantly walking back to sleep in your own bed. It felt like everything was moving fast but at the same time the only thing that had changed since before Christmas was now you were allowed to cuddle, kiss and speak honestly about how you feel.

Lessons were interesting as you and Remus tried your hardest to avoid suspicions but sometimes you would get lost in each others eyes especially the days after you had just slept together and woken up next to each other. Your tutoring lessons became a lot more flirty as it was just the two of you, Remus started locking the door during them just in case. You still learnt a lot but he would often kiss your neck as he stood behind you helping to guide your hand to preform a spell correctly.

While approaching the first full moon of the year you noticed Remus became more possessive over you. It showed up in small things like telling off Sebastian when he got too touchy in Remus's classes, but he also became more protective, he would walk you back to your dorm at night just in case and he would make you tea and make sure you ate properly. It was as if Remus's emotions were dialled up. Sometime he would bite you when he kissed you, this would become a lot more common closer to the full moon, he would constantly express how he craved you in the days leading up to the full moon. He was less angsty which lead you to believe he was angsty with you because he was frustrated before over all the emotions he had felt in regards to you. The evening of the full moon you were sitting in his office with him, his body was aching and he was sitting on the sofa in pain as you made him a cup of tea with wolfbane inside to help dull it's bitter taste. You bought it over to him stroking his hair lightly. "Here drink this, the wolfbane is inside."

"I'm so lucky to have you." He said gently through the pain. You could tell he appreciated you taking care of him but also wished he didn't need to be taken care of. "I should probably head to the shrieking shack soon." He said looking at his watch.

"I can walk with you." You offered and he gave you a gentle smile.

"No dear, I don't want you anywhere near that place, besides Sirius will probably be there soon so I'll be in safe hands." He stood up masking the pain with a straight face and went to change into clothes that can get destroyed just in case. You walked with him up to the edge of the castle you couldn't kiss him goodbye as it was too risky so you simply opted for a wave as he gave you a longing look and wave back. You couldn't sleep all night, you just thought about Remus's pain. You could hear howls every so often throughout the night which made you feel somehow comfortable as you knew he was close and he was okay. The next day at lunchtime you went to visit his office to check on him. He slowly opened the door leaning most of his weight on his cane and his face changed from profesional to a look of shock and love as soon as he noticed you. "I bought you some chocolate cake from lunch." You said lifting up the small brown bag in your hand. He opened the door wider letting you in and slowly walked over to his desk, sitting down slowly as his body ached with every move. You noticed he was wearing pyjama trousers and a jumper that was more tattered than his usual choices.

"I really appreciate you thinking of me Y/N, but you didn't have to do this for me." He said ripping open the bag to use it as a plate for the cake. "Would you like some?" He offered to you and you shook your head.

"How was the transformation?" You asked as he picked at the cake.

"I don't remember much of it to be honest, I rarely do, I know I didn't get as scratched up this time, but my muscles ache a lot which usually means I moved around a lot."

"Does your human physique affect your wolf physique?" You asked also picking at his cake.

"I never thought about it that way, I think the muscles are linked in some way, no one really studies us." He admitted with a sad face.

"How's the pain?"

"My energy levels are extremely low, currently my bones and muscles ache so I've been simply reading my book in bed and catching up on sleep."

"Sorry for making you leave your bed,"

"Darling it's my pleasure to spend time with you thank you for remembering about me."

"I'm going to have to get back to my lessons but I'll come check on you in the evening." You explained standing up.

"You know you don't have to it's okay if you're busy, I won't be much fun in my condition." He said beginning to stand up but you quickly stopped him so he wouldn't strain himself too much. You pecked his lips lightly goodbye and let yourself out.

The rest of the day was uneventful, you headed over to visit Remus straight away after dinner, bar of chocolate in hand. He opened the door slowly again, you stood on the other side of the door holding up the chocolate bar, covering your face. You peeked to the side from it and he had a huge warm smile on his face.

"If you bring my gifts every time you should come here more often." He moved to the side and you almost hopped in filled with excitement to see Remus.

"Don't get used to it," you plopped yourself down on the sofa making yourself comfortable as Remus slowly walked over and sat down next to you using his cane for support. "What'cha reading?" You asked picking up the book that was laying besides you.

"You'll be glad to hear it's a muggle book, it's called an inspector calls."

"Oh I know that one it's a play."

"I like it, reading it feels like going to the theatre."

"We should go." You expressed not thinking through what you're saying just speaking.

"That's a wonderful idea, let me know a weekend you may be free or maybe we can do it over the a half term."

"Sounds like our next date is planned." You said going in to kiss him this time.

"Just let me heal first." You hugged him but only lightly as you didn't want to hurt him anywhere he may have scars. You sat down pulling out a book of your own while he grabbed a different one off the shelf. "Are you changing books already?"

"Well if we're going to the theatre I don't want to spoil the ending, plus it was beginning to get a little depressing." He slowly lowered himself to sit beside you.

"So you decided to go for?"

"Secrets of the Darkest Art." He replied.

"Because that's so much more enjoyable." You expressed sarcastically.

"I'm refreshing my memory, what high brow work of fiction might you be reading?"

"Something intellectual." You stayed flashing him with the book cover of Breakfast at Tiffany's making him laugh. "Don't be so smug."

"It's your turn to change the record." He stated as the music finished.

"How did you know it's going to finish?"

"It's your turn to change it." He simply repeated without lifting his eyes from the page.

"Yeah I'm not changing it, it's your turn old man." You said starring at him and he lifted his eyes to meet your gaze.

"I see how much you care about my health when it really matters." He began to slowly stand up making sounds of pain just to tease you and you immediately stopped him and stood up to change it.

"Well maybe you should invest in a CD player or something that you don't have to flip every five seconds, something with a remote."

"Why? I've got you. Besides have you forgotten about magic dear?" He said and the record player shut nearly snapping your fingers and automatically it began to play. "I prefer the way records sound."

"How do you do it so naturally?"

"Do what?"

"Magic." You stated and he shut his book sitting up to face you. "It doesn't come naturally to me, I barely remember it's there, it feels so foreign to me."

"You need to be open to it, I'll teach you, just let me. Don't be so closed off." He said gently placing his hand on your leg and you nodded. "Promise me?" He pushed and you nodded. "You need to use your words Y/N." He said sending a hot flush to your cheeks.

"I promise." You said and he leaned in to kiss you.

The following weeks you kept your promise, you worked hard to learn everything, Remus pushed you to use magic in the evenings in his office making it all feel more natural to you. It took time but you were beginning to use magic for the small stuff. In his officially tutoring lessons you began to move on to learn your Patronus charm.

It was late in the evening on a Monday when you were still trying to get it right, you were so close the spark was coming out of your wand. "Just focus on a memory that is stronger than any other." Remus who was dripping in sweat almost shouted. It had been hours but you both knew you were so close. You tried again and it was close but it wasn't working. "I don't think I can do it." You said in almost defeat.

"That's okay my dear we can try again tomorrow." He said coming up to kiss you, he moved the hair out your face, put his arms around and leaned down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "You're doing so well, you just need to find the right moment, try and search deeper." He explained and you lingered on his words, you tried many memories, even the one of your first kiss with him but none worked but that's the moment you thought of the day he took you to the lake to see the light bugs the vulnerability but the love you felt in that moment. "Can I try one last time?" You asked and he nodded letting go of you, his hand letting go of yours last as he was stepping back.

"It's okay if you can't do it today, you still have a lot of time to learn." He comforted you and that's when you tried the new memory. You focused your mind and cast the charm and a blinding light came out in front of you, you saw a wolf begin to run around the room but yours and Remus's faces were in utter joy but then you noticed his turn to confusion as he studied the animal. He looked at you with a new look, one filled with love but laced with a hint of fear as he came up to you, arm open putting them around you and pulling you into his chest. He leaned to kiss you and kept repeating. "I'm so proud of you." Between kisses. That night you didn't go back to your dorm but instead Remus decided it was a special enough occasion to open a new bottle of whiskey.

You left early morning to get back to your dorm, reluctantly peeling yourself out of Lupins arms. You tiptoed down the corridor in the direction of your dorm when you saw Percy. Panic set in. You thought about finding a way to avoid him but there was nothing you could do. "L/N." He said as walked past.

"Percy, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You shot him a forced grin.

"Why are you wandering around the halls this early?"

"I just went for a morning stroll." You averted his gaze.

"In last nights clothes?" He pointed out stepping closer to you, looking down his nose almost like Snape would do.

"Percy, please let it go, this doesn't concern you."

"As your prefect-" he began and you scoffed at him walking past but he quickly followed you. "It concerns me when it involves Lupin." You froze as Percy said the words.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You simply stated as Percy came up to you and leaned in tight.

"I've been watching you. He could get fired overnight with his condition, I don't even need to prove that you two are fucking." He whispered in your ear and you automatically went to slap him in the face and push him away from you.

"You're such a prick you don't deserve to be in Gryffindor." You said pulling out your wand and pointing it at him as he stumbled slightly back and pulled out his. You immediately disarmed him and hit him with a stunner. You kept hitting him until he fell on the ground. "I used to consider you my friend." You said trying not to cry.

He got his wand back and hit you with a stunner of his. "That's when I thought you were a nice girl not one that goes around fucking her professors."

His last word was muffled with a loud shout of "Enough." And both your wands fell to the ground. You both looked in the direction of Lupin who was running up to you followed by McGonagall. He didn't have any words when he reached you but just stood starring at you with an unreadable look while McGonagall caught up behind him. "Mr Weasley, Miss L/N would either of you like to explain to me why you are duelling in the corridor first thing in the morning?" She began standing next to Lupin.

"We were practicing for our exams." You said without skipping a beat.

"Now however good that is of an excuse that doesn't explain why you are both shouting at each other and doing all this in the middle of the hall. I expected better of you both especially a prefect of my house." She caught your bluff.

"Professor may I speak to you in your office it's a personal matter." Percy said not looking at Lupin.

"Very well. Mr Weasley I will see you this afternoon in my office for detention where you can explain yourself and Miss L/N you will report to Professor Lupins office to serve your detention with him." She stated and then looked at Lupin. "If that is okay with you Remus?" She asked him gently and he nodded not taking his eyes off you.

"That's not detention for her, she likes going to his office," Percy protested.

"Then you will serve your detention with Professor Lupin and Miss L/N will report to me. Any more objections Mr Weasley?" She looked down his glasses at her and he shook his head no. "Okay, as you both were." She said waving her hand to signify letting you both go. You both scurried away, no more words exchanged between you and Percy. You looked back to see Lupin and McGonagall walking away side by side, his hands were in his pockets and he looked as if he was explaining something to her you wandered what it may be.

In the evening you went to see McGonagall, the tension was thick in the room as you entered. Her office was very different to Lupins, it had a similar shape but it was significantly bigger, it felt a lot more wooden and less comfortable but it still felt like it was full of love. Her personality came through in the small rug on the floor and the framed picture all over the wall behind her desk. When she questioned you as to what caused the fight with Percy you were most honest beginning with "You see Professor, Percy likes me as more than a friend and I've rejected his advances many times, I kissed a boy at a party on New Year's Eve and he's been annoyed with me ever since." She nodded to show she's following your story however you could tell she was lost as to how this is relevant. "So he's now in a vendetta to ruin my life because I don't like him." You finished and she nodded.

"How did this lead to you duelling in the hall?" She asked calmly.

"I'll admit something, I didn't go back to my own bed last night, I was heading back in the morning and Percy confronted me, started threatening to get me in trouble, his face was very close to mine like he was about to kiss me or spit on me so I slapped him to get him off me." She simply nodded.

"Miss L/N to me it sounds like things in terms of self defence, however why were you both still fighting when Professor Lupin and I approached."

"He was pissed off-"

"L/N." She warned.

"Sorry, he was annoyed. He kept shouting at me and he was holding his wand and I just thought I should disarm him, it all happened quite fast." You explained.

"I have to say Miss L/N I'm proud to hear you naturally used magic like that. I see Professor Lupins tutoring is very useful, I'm truly proud of the enormous progress you've made this year. After your exams you owe that man champagne." She said her tone was motherly, her last sentence made you smile.

"You are right professor, I owe Professor Lupin a lot for all his help this year." You felt comfort speaking with her about him and also quite excited to speak well of him with someone else.

"I don't know how much you know about him however I remember when he joined Hogwarts he was alike you in your early years, I think that's why you both get so well along."

"What do you mean professor?"

"Well you were both just as cautious and untrusting of magic-"

"He was untrusting of magic?" You questioned finding her words amusing.

"He has been hurt by magic at a young age and it meant he wanted very little to do with our world, it, being at Hogwarts didn't feel natural to him at first."

"I know about his condition." You blurted out.

"Well then he must trust you very much. He's a good man, we're very lucky to have him in the school, he cares a lot and wants to help." She said and you nodded feeling awkward, you didn't know what to say as a yes would be weird. "Anyway I've gotten chatty, I apologise, you're free to go, thank you for your honesty." She said dismissing you.

"Thank you professor and thank you for the chat." You said standing up.

"My pleasure." She had a warm smile as she looked back down at the paperwork in front of her and you left. You felt positive.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

A/N: Yes Inspector Calls is a nod to David Thewlis being in the BBC adaptation of the play

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228 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 11 months

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap two/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Fancy Meeting You Here

chapter one <-

summary: A peek out your bedroom window has you flustered, and a late night run in makes it worse.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. no minors! some good ol tension building and ogling 😉

Series Masterlist // Playlist // The tune:

Sunday -

You were able to unpack most of your ‘chaos’ the next day. Fun distractions in every box as you slowly put your life back together one side step at a time. Your A/C was working over time by mid day, the temperature outside almost breaking 90. Stuttering every so often with the heat trying to get the best of it, the sun shines through your window with harsh light directly on your freshly hung Ivy. The intensity of it at its peak in the sky threatens to fry them before they even have a chance to start.

“Gotta get some curtains,” you mumble to yourself, adding it to the long list of things you already need.

Licking sticky red lips, you grab the plastic cup you just drained the last of your wine from, the warm buzz of the alcohol making you sweat as you rinse it haphazardly. Water splashes all over the sink before you fill it up to the brim, your bare feet pad with low quick thumps against the wood floor, skin a little slick with every step to your window.

The Cure’s ‘Just like heaven’ cuts off the loop you had it playing on all day when you get a notification on your phone, but you keep humming along as you step up on the ledge, kicking away the newly added throw pillows. The wrath of the summer sun makes sweat bead at the crown of your hair while the soil absorbs what you give it like it hasn’t been watered in days. A flash of color catches the corner of your eye, stealing your attention to the window.

That's when you see Steve.

He wears red running shorts this time, the color making his bronze skin pop while the black tank top that hangs loose off his shoulders has his arms on full display. The darkened patches from the heat on the front and back of It makes the damp cotton dip to tease the curled hair on his chest that matches his legs. His jog stops once he hits his gate, pulling out his AirPods his shoulders move up and down with his heavy breaths. He looks even better than yesterday, the sheen that covers him making him glow.

That’s when he does it, he takes it off.

Long fingers find the bottom of his shirt as he pulls it over his head, abs flexing when it gets caught at the bottom of his chin for a second. He pushes back his hair with both hands catching that stray that never seems to go away. Cold water hits your toes, a squeak leaving your mouth at the sight.

“Shit, shit, shiiit.”

You set the cup down cursing under your breath and you know you should look away but when you see the dark happy trail that runs down into his shorts you can’t. Not yet.

If he can feel you staring he doesn’t show it when he sits down on his porch swing, the muscles in his thighs bulging against the nylon. He dabs his forehead with his discarded tank top, letting his neck fall slack and his head tilt back using it to shield his eyes when he’s done.

Watching past the point of what feels appropriate you pry yourself from the view suddenly needing the coldest shower.

Wednesday -

Job hunting day was long and hot. Your feet are sore from hours spent walking in the haze of the sun, the bottoms of your converse peeling against the pavement with each step. The trains were more confusing than you’d bargained for, opting for the bus and expecting some reprieve but somehow managed to get on the one that offered you none. Packed tight against strangers in a heat that was somehow even worse than the one outside, you glowered at your feet.

Oh yeah, and you hated that every song on your shuffle reminded you of the man you spent all of ten minutes with.

The biggest glass of wine you could humanly pour calls your name by the time you get to the end of your block. Your pace is quick with annoyance, and the need for A/C is urgent when your thighs start to rub together, stinging in the humid air.

That’s when you see him. Again.

He’s getting out of BMW M6, a dark red one with black trim, shiny with the kind of paint that glitters in the sun like just went through a car wash. The tint of the windows is just dark enough to give you a glimpse at the silhouette of the car seats and the air freshener that dangles over his rear view mirror. He’s fully clothed this time, a white long sleeve dress shirt that clings to him like it’s custom tucked into dark gray slacks that look freshly pressed. The black oxfords on his feet look polished with no scuffs in sight, and when he goes to answer his phone by the bluetooth in his ear the silver of his watch reflects off the light. The look is thrown though by the familiar blue of a Cubs hat, backwards on his head - that loose strand hangs out the front. Ray Bans cover those eyes that a few days ago couldn’t stay off of you.

“Of course,” you grumble to yourself, trying to ignore the hope that starts tightening in your chest.

“Hey Ron! It’s Steve.” The whites of his teeth show themselves in a confident smile that’s not directed at you.

He stops at his mailbox as you reach your gate thinking there’s no way he hasn’t noticed you. You just want him to at least acknowledge you.

He hums in agreement to whatever ‘Ron’ is saying on the other end, throwing in an ‘exactly’ every now and then. You watch as his expert fingers pop the buttons up at the bottom of his sleeves, before rolling them up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms moving. The few seconds in the heat already getting to him.

“Don’t worry, I got you seats right behind home plate for helping me make this right on such short notice.”

He keeps his head down and he sifts through envelopes, humming a ‘no thank you” before the noticeable click and end of the phone call. The metal of your gate seems to creak louder than usual, but the noise still isn’t enough for him to look your way. Not even when your steps mirror each other’s as you both make it to your respective doors. You keep peeking over as you jiggle your lock, silently trying to get his attention.

He tucks his mail between his teeth as he searches for his house key. A muffled ‘aha!’ when he finds them, quickly unlocking his own door before freeing his mouth to greet Bandit. The sound of his nails pattering excitedly against the floor fills the quiet between you two before the slam of his door.

Friday -

It had been two days since you even caught a glimpse of your confusing neighbor, making it easier to get back to your normal brain chemistry. Instead of running through your first day here over and over again, you focused on prepping for the interview you got called back for.

The bright glow of the moon breaks through the sheer curtains of your room competing with the warmth of your bedside lamp. Your bluetooth speaker is set at a volume that is only meant for you to hear while The Marias Care For You becomes the soundtrack to finally organizing your room.

You dance a little as you make your way around your space, smiling as you walk past the window. The flick of a light breaks your concentration making you search for where it came from, the regret is instant when you find the source.

You don’t know how it took you a week to realize his bedroom was right across from yours, but the way he’s walking around in nothing but a low slung towel makes you think he doesn’t know either. Water drips from the tips of his hair and down his chest, curling the dark thatch that connects to the happy trail that you’d been teased with earlier in the week. There’s a subtle dip between his hips, a soft V that taunts you.

The books in your hand slip from your grip, the hard spine connecting with the top of your toes.

“Ouch - fuck!”

You scream loud enough to duck, scared that your outburst caught his attention while your hands wrap around your foot in an attempt to soothe the pain. You rock back and forth a little until the aftershock subsides. Still too scared to stand, you crawl towards your window to see if your worst fear actually came to life.

Your fingers rest on the window pane as you slowly let your eyes peek above the wood. He’s not looking at your window, but his towel is now replaced with just as low hanging dark green mesh shorts. His back is turned towards you revealing even more freckles and moles than the ones you’d discovered on his arms and nose. His shoulder blades move as he texts someone on his phone. The glow of the screen lighting his face in the reflection of the mirror over his dresser.

You groan as you slink back, laying on your floor with a huff. Staring at the ceiling with a sweaty palm on your forehead, the image of him in the towel is etched in your mind, making your blood run hot. You’ll need better curtains for your bedroom too.

Trash, you’ll take out the trash.

There’s a chill with the breeze when you get outside, the humidity disappearing with the sun for once. The street lamp flickers over the alleyway, the glow of the full moon doing more to light your path. Goosebumps dance over the exposed skin of your legs, while you keep your eyes on your feet as you move over the uneven ground. completely focused on not rolling your ankle again, you don’t notice the sounds of sports highlights getting closer.

“God, of course he choked— umph!”

Steve’s voice catches your attention too late for you to stop the slam of your face into the hard muscles of his chest. The sound of glass breaking in your trash bag echoes loud through the quiet when you drop it next to your feet, quickly followed by the skid of his phone. Your cheek bounces lightly off of him, the material of his gray shirt soft against your skin. The hair hidden underneath is still wet enough for you to feel the way it dampens the cotton, while the mint and pine of his body wash overwhelms your senses. His hands find your hips to steady your balance, fingertips accidentally brushing the top curve of your ass when they spread wide to get a grip.

“Whoa! Easy tiger.” There’s a smirk in his words and tobacco on his breath, the heat of it fanning across your face.

Your eyes finally meet the greens of his and the golden specks are just as easy to get lost in as the first time. There’s less peppered stubble covering the sharp edges of his features, the shadowing of it signaling that he must have shaved since the last time you saw him. The moon reveals a new set of moles that sit like vampire bites on the underside of his jaw, a placement that makes you wet your lips. Your heartbeat pulsing through your fingertips wrapped in his shirt. His grip on your hips stays unwavering while he takes in your face like he missed something he didn’t know he lost.

The sound of a car honking signals its presence down the alley breaking you two apart, the headlights making you squint when they hit your line of sight. His hands drop quickly and you untangle yours, taking a step back as the car drives past at what feels like a snail's pace. There’s a beat of silence before you clear your throat.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you offer as a bad attempt at breaking the ice. It makes him snort a little, sidestepping you briefly to grab his phone that landed on the gravel next to your feet. The score of the Cubs game is still playing from the small speaker.

The low light conceals the way your eyes wander when the back of his shirt rides up as he bends down. The baseball game drowns out the sound of you swallowing hard when you don’t see an outline of briefs under his shorts. He clicks the button on the side, cutting the sportscast off abruptly and for the second time you wonder if he can hear your thoughts.

He smirks when he brings his attention back to you, almost missing the way his gaze wanders around your curves when he drops his phone in his pocket.

“You’re telling me, I thought this was an exclusive spot.” He laughs, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

There’s a beat of awkward silence this time.

“Well, not gonna force you to chat. Have a good night Steve.” You try not to let it show how much it bothers you as you pick your trash back up.

“How’s your ankle? Did the ice pack help?” He blurts out before you can walk away.

You stare at him for a second, eyes raking over his face as you try to decipher his mood swings.

“Yeah, it helped a lot. Thank you.” Your smile is small but it makes his whole face light up. “Tell Bandit I said thanks too. Maybe give him another kiss for me.”

You watch the way his ears turn the rosy color of his cheeks as he looks down, kicking the rocks at his slipper covered feet.

“I’m sure he’ll be very appreciative of such a kind gesture.” He looks at you from under his lashes, the playful spark from the day you met slowly coming back.

“I hope I didn’t do anything last week to make you uncomfortable - “ you start out, determined to address the elephant in the alley between you, and his eyes get big when he finally registers what you’re saying.

“What? Uncomfortable? No, honey - look, you didn’t do anything to make me run off like that. There’s some things about me that you don’t know, it’s just - I’m sorry,” he huffs out, shoulders slumping defeated when he realizes how he’s come across.

“I’m just trying to make some friends around here. Thought I had one in you and Bandit, but I guess not.” You try to lighten the shift in his mood when you look up at him with an exaggerated sullen face, and it works when the whites of his teeth start to show, eyes crinkling at their corners.

“We can be friends.” He chuckles with his signature nervous tick, long fingers running through damp hair. “Bandit can be a little high maintenance though.”

It’s your turn to laugh, a giggle bubbling past your lips and Steve thinks it’s one of the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard. He wants to make you do it again.

“I think I can handle him, it’s his owner I have to worry about.“ You roll your eyes before you peek over at him with a smirk.

“That old guy next door? I heard he’s pretty lame, you might give him a big head if you wanna be his friend.” He lays it on extra thick by taking the trash bag from your hand, walking the few short steps to the dumpster for you.

He tosses it in with ease, his shoulder blades moving under his shirt. The lid closes loudly, drowning out the way your heart is trying to jump from your chest when he makes his way back.

“That was a very friendly thing for you to do, Steve. Thank you,” you tease, making him snort at your bad play on words.

“Gotta make myself indispensable, tough girl.” He winks not missing a beat, lips stretching into that million dollar smile you saw him give on the phone the other day. Only this time it’s just for you.

“Well you’re really starting to build your case.” You bite your lip to try to hide the way you want to mirror him.

“Oh, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me with good conscience.” He stops in front of you, eyes meeting yours like they did the first time. The smell of his body wash takes over again while the stray he’s always pushing back makes a reappearance. “Do me a favor though? No more taking your trash out this late. At least not alone.”

“Are you going to come over and help every time I need to take it out past nine?” You grin, crossing your arms, only half way teasing when you see a rat scurry by.

“What are friends for?” He shrugs, playing along with ease, whatever nerves he was battling with before retreating when his smile turns lopsided. The rake of his fingers through his hair seems intentional this time, especially when he licks his lips.

You wonder if he can hear the flaps of butterfly wings in your stomach, or how your breath hitches.

“Already working your way to best friend status Steve, careful,” you warn, trying to hide your nerves in humor and it works, earning a full belly laugh from him.

“Have a good night honey. I’m right next door if you need anything.” His hand reaches out as if to touch your arm, but he pulls back at the last minute, fingers flexing looking for that ‘missing’ ring again at his side.

“See you around, Steve.” You smile warmly trying to save him from whatever internal spiral you saw him trying to fight off again.

Your touch is gentle when you do what he was too scared too. His skin is warm against your palm, the muscles moving underneath the simple gesture. You trace the pad of your thumb over the same cluster of freckles twice before you let go with a squeeze, heading back to the wooden gate that closes off your shared backyard.

He doesn’t answer till you’re almost all the way through.

“I hope so!”

The smile that spreads across your face can’t be contained any longer, hidden from him when your back presses to the wooden door as your gate latches closed loudly behind it. You wait until you hear him get inside, silently trying to decipher whatever he was mumbling to himself the whole way there but failing.

You can’t help but replay the whole interaction back in your head as you make your way back upstairs, trying to manage your expectations. The words ‘there’s some things about me that you don’t know’ stick to the front of your brain like glue, just like the word ‘friends’.

You avoid your bedroom window for the rest of the night, and vow to get better curtains in the morning.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

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chapter three

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harringont smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #steve harrington slow burn #older!steve harrington

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