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#so there's nothing for me to comfortably sing ;-;

c-t-r-l14 · 3 days

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Tennesee Waltz

“I remember the night, and the Tennesee Waltz

Now I know just how much I have lost.”

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Synopsis: You introduce an old friend to Xanthus.

Based off of this post.

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You were never one to believe in soulmates. That concept simply never made sense to you. The notion that some “universal force of nature” chooses the person that is “perfect” for you, how it ties an invisible red string of fate to you and your lover's pinky finger—forever making you two bound to each other for all eternity—was simply ludacris.

Sometimes, when you were out with your friends, they’d talk about how they met their lovers, and how they just instantly knew that they were the ones. And they’d say it with the tenderness, warmth, and certain fondness of love swimming in their bright eyes. You’d watch how their bodies swooned with adoration, how the corners of their lips were lifted up into a smile of utter enchantment. As you sat there, watching them whisper and swoon about how the “stars aligned for them to be together,” with their hands on their hearts—their bright, love struck eyes gazing longingly at the sky—you couldn’t help but think that for a moment, for just a moment—how nice it would be if the theories of “soul-ties” and “soulmates” were real. But, as soon as those thoughts came, they vanished just as instantly—fading away from existence like the steam that permeated from your hot cup of tea. Although it was a nice thought in theory, it was absolutely ridiculous in practice. There is no destiny, or “path of fate”, when it comes to falling in love. There are no “outside forces” pulling the strings behind the scenes—no cupid or Eros to shoot an arrow of love in your back. You simply meet someone, get to know who they are, fall in love, and eventually settle down with them. A completely natural process—one with no red strings attached. And for a little a while, that’s what you truly believed.

That is, until you met Xanthus.

You were drawn to everything about him—his air of mystique, and his beautiful golden hair, how his bangs fell over his forehead and framed his pale face, how his eyes of red seemed to sparkle brightly with the radiance of rubies—and how his thin lips seemed to form the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen. You loved the way he held you in his strong arms; the way you melted in the cocoon of his warm embrace. When the evening made way for the night—when the red, orange, and yellow hues morphed into a midnight blue, you’d be comforted by the faint sound of his breathing and the smell of cologne lingering in the air; and as the night made way for the dawn, your heart was filled with so much bliss—so much happiness—simply because you were lucky enough to wake up to him sleeping beside you. You thanked your lucky stars every time he used you as his muse for any new book he composed. Your body felt lighter than air when he recited the sonnets he wrote for you. You beamed brightly every single time you posed for any painting he’d create in your honor. With him, the world was bathed in pink hues—bursting with absolute beauty.

And, on one clear night—without a single twinkling star in the sky—when there was nothing but the luminescence of the full moon hanging over the city, he held your hand tightly as he stared into your eyes, and said to you:

“Dearest, my love for you is deeper than the deepest depths of the vastest oceans, and is as plentiful as the stars in the sky. It extends to even the most remote regions of the universe—reaching a distance above the very heavens itself; a devotion so strong that it breaks the concept of time. Whenever you’re around me, my heart sings—a simple song morphs into a symphony whenever I look at you. You bring me comfort on my darkest nights, and laughter in my lowest moments. You’re a beacon that melted the ice of my once frozen heart. And that is why, I want to be there for you—for as long as you allow me to be.”

You can practically hear the fast paced thumping of your heart beating loudly in your chest. And your vision blurred with tears as he reached into his pocket.

“I promise.”

In his hand sat the most beautiful ring you’ve ever laid your eyes on—complete with brilliant red rubies encrusted in the golden band. Ruby red—the color of his eyes. Your mouth, although quivering—quirked up into a smile as he slid the ring onto your finger. And he smiled back as he took out another ring, with diamonds that shone with the luminance, beauty, and color of your own eyes—sliding it on to his own finger.

You let the tears flow. And, on that clear night—without a single twinkling star in the sky—you two shared a tender kiss under the ethereal glow of the full moon hanging over the city.

It was a moment that you cherished for a long time. But even as you stood there, staring lovingly in his ruby red eyes, his face and blond tresses bathed in the pale white glow of the moonlight—you still didn’t understand what your friends swooned and sighed about.

Because despite the immense love you felt, and the sweet aroma of romance wafting through the air, you still didn’t believe in soulmates.

…..

As you ascended the long staircase, you nervously fiddled with your hair, trying your best to give your whole ensemble a finishing touch. Your stomach was swimming with apprehensiveness, and a bit of anxiety as you got to the top—your heart thumping wildly in your chest as you came face to face with the large ballroom. You huffed as Xanthus chuckled with pure amusement.

“Dearest,” he laughed, “there is nothing to worry about. The way you look tonight will take everyone’s breath away.”

“Thanks, Xanthus, but this is the first time I’ve ever been to a ball! We’ll be dancing in front of people, too. I have to make sure I don’t mess up.”

He chuckled once more. “We’ve danced with each other many times before; it’s not really anything to fret over.”

“Okay, but the difference is that people will be watching.”

“You worry too much, my dear. You’ll do wonderful.”

He gave you a reassuring smile as he offered his arm to you, and you took it—smiling back as you both sauntered into the ballroom.

You were taken aback from the level of absolute grandeur that encompassed every single inch of the ballroom. The silk velvet drapes, which were the color of old red wine, cascaded from the ceiling to the ground—their gold trimmings almost sweeping against the marble floor—its own tiles embellished with swirling patterns and geometric shapes. Frescoes—paintings that were vibrant in colors and rich with lore—adorned the high ceilings as it stretched far across the room. And, in the center of it all, was a crystal chandelier looming overhead—casting a beautiful, soft glow—almost as astonishing as the moonlight that engulfed you and Xanthus just a few days prior.

The room was filled with people who were dressed to the nines—opulent gowns and dresses that cascaded all the way down to the floor, grazing it as the women walked. Men dressed in their best suits and tailcoats, standing with nonchalance as they carry on a conversation with the person talking to them. And, besides from the magnificent harmonies melted together by the woodwinds, percussions, and strings played by the live grand orchestra—the quiet sounds of excited chatter, laughter and clinking wine glasses filled the air. However, within the sea of fancy dresses and tailcoats, you spotted a familiar face—one you hadn’t seen in what felt like a million years. Still as beautiful as they were on the last day you saw them, their smile as radiant as ever—their laughter loud and full of life. And while they did go many names, you chose to call out the one that was most familiar to you.

“Love!”

In an instant they caught your gaze, and their own eyes lit up as you two made your way over.

“Well, I’ll be! It’s been so long!” They exclaimed, grabbing your hands and squeezing it.

“Too long!” You laughed, “Oh, and before I forget—Love, this is Xanthus.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Love,” Xanthus said—with a certain softness in his tone as he extended his hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” they responded shyly, shaking it.

And for a moment, they both stood there, staring into each other’s eyes—almost as if they were in a trance, or under some sort of spell. But, there was something different in Xanthus’ gaze; while it was true that he had looked at you with adoration and astonishment swimming in his eyes, there was something very unfamiliar about the way he looked at Love. There was a certain something in his stare—something that never appeared when he looked at you. And, that very same something gleamed in Love’s eyes.

Enamour.

Suddenly, the excitement that swam in your stomach—and the warmness that filled your heart froze over. You opened your mouth to say something, but then the live orchestra started playing a song that made all the women squeal and drag their dates to the dance floor.

The Tennessee Waltz.

Xanthus pulled away from you, and took their hand.

“May I have this dance, Love?”

“Yes you may,” they giggled.

You watched as they sauntered to the dancefloor, hand in hand, never once letting the fire of captivation fizzle out of their bright eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to call after them, because even if you tried, the words would get stuck in your throat. So, you stood there, and watched from afar as they waltzed.

You watched as the melody consumed them—never taking a step out of turn—always on beat.

You watched as they laughed when Xanthus gave Love a twirl—his smile so wide that his teeth were showing. He never smiled at you like that.

You watched as they still held each other close, even when it was time to switch partners. They danced as if they were in their own little universe.

And, while the orchestra played the finishing note, you watched as they both shared a tender kiss, bathed in the soft glow that was casted by the chandelier looming overhead.

Your heart clenched, and a pain that burned like a wildfire consumed your chest. With great haste, and blurry vision, you ran out of there. The ballroom air was suffocating; it was filled with their new found love, and the scent was so thick and strong that it was getting harder to breathe.

You stumbled into the ballroom garden, and let the tears flow—heaving sobs and broken cries filling the atmosphere. It was a clear night, without a twinkling star in the sky—with nothing but the luminescence of the full moon hanging over the city. You cried under the very same sky your darling Xanthus declared his love for you.

The night you believed in soulmates wasn’t the night he recited his first sonnet to you. It wasn’t the night he used you as his muse for his first book, or when he made his first painting. It wasn’t even the night he gave you a promise ring, vowing to stay by your side for as long as you’d let him.

No, the night you believed in soulmates was the night Xanthus found his.

The night your friend stole your sweetheart from you.

The night they were playing the beautiful Tennessee Waltz.

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A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had so much things to do. I’m glad to be back! Have some angst!

Masterlist

#zsakuva #sakuverse #xanthus zsakuva #zsakuva xanthus #when I saw that Xanthus could’ve possibly cheated on his former partners my mind immediately went to this song #you should totally go check it out #link to it is on the title of the song #ily #I love Doris day

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penvisions · 2 hours

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by the grit of sandpaper {epilogue}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: As time passes, you and Joel settle into a new life together.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, mentions of past lost loved ones, mentions of child loss (both joel and reader), joel miller's hands need their own warning, adult content, sexual content, smut, piv, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), creampie (reader is unable to get pregnant so you know lol), dry humping, bulge mention, sensual makeout session, one (1) instance of squirting, reader and joel are down bad for each other, lemme know if i missed any!

A/N: i missed them and the document that only had a few dozen words flourished into this! i realized i could write for these two until the end of time because i love them so much and this little universe, so if there's something you're curious about or want to see of them, send an ask and a one shot might be written c;

love y'all and hope this brings you some joy today ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

You stir long before the other body in your bed, dreamworld of your sleeping mind slipping from you as consciousness takes hold. But it leaves behind a melancholia you were all too familiar with. Today would be a hard day, tomorrow even more so. The loss of your friend weighing heavy on your soul even as you lay tangled with a man who helped to brighten and fill your days with a new purpose.

“We’ve gotta get up,” You quietly remind him even as you snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of him so close and comforting. You don’t feel very compelled to heed your own words, if you’re honest.

“Ten more minutes.” He’s pressing his body to yours, the hard line of him jutting into your lower back and his teeth nipping as your shoulder. You were both bare from the strokes of pleasure you had pulled from each other’s bodies the evening before. His voice gravelly from both the way he had shouted out, moaned loud enough for it to bounce off the walls last night and his waking body this morning.

“You said that yesterday and I was late for my shift at the mess hall.”

“You run the mess hall, can’t be late if you’re the boss.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm, trust me.” He rumbles as he begins to lazily shift his dribbling cock against the plush skin of your backside. You have nothing but a breathy moan as he shifts your bodies, laying over your back as he presses you into the soft mattress and tangled sheets, slipping inside of your aching core with an easy glide. It’s splitting the way he fills you so fully, the head of his cock kissing your cervix as he simply rolls his hips to help ease you open a little more. His hands are reaching to interlock fingers with yours that grab at the sheets.

After a few moments of slowness, he’s shifting his weight up onto his knees a bit more, nudging your legs open for him rest between them as he holds tight to the flare of your hips to angle them perfectly for you to feel every hard inch of him. Slow and sensual turns into frantic and hard thrusts, punching sounds out from your lungs as the drag of him through your center ignites your body.

Praises for you fall from his mouth in deep, guttural sounds as he feels you begin to arch your back and lean your hips back to meet his every move. Fingers dip below your body to circle your throbbing clit and his words give way to harsh pants as you clench around him, your release quick and numbing.

His body is singing, trying to match the tune of yours as he works you through it, the squelch of him dragging out and slamming back in making your stomach flutter. It’s both unfamiliar and new, the way pressure builds in your middle so soon after, but it’s not unwelcome as you realize his hand is now pressed firmly to the soft give of your lower stomach right above the patch of curls your keep trimmed.

You try to warn him as it grows in intensity, but you don’t think words form around the warbling cries of your voice. Drowned out by the desperate sounds he’s beginning to make as he feels a warm splash of wet soak the sheets and the fronts of his muscled thighs, he falters for just a moment before he’s slamming in as deep as he can and filling you with hot spurts. You feel him, all of him from the twitching of his cock to the soft pudge of his middle on your back as he stills, draping back over you and brushing his nose over your ear.

“Such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Didn’t even know you could do that.” Your hips jerk as you preen under his words, his rapt attention, the feeling of him still nestled deep in your fluttering core. He’s choking on the breath he had just taken as he feels the way your body holds him where he his, refusing to let him go. And it’s with almost reverent touches, that he’s swiping thick fingers around where you’re connected as he leans back to take in the sight of his cum leaking out. As your body finally relaxes, he’s slipping from you with a held breath, exhaling only when he sees the milky mix of your combined releases dripping from your puffy seam.

His weight is suddenly gone from over and behind you, causing you to turn your head as best you could where your cheek is pressed to the sheets only for your breath to hitch at the sight of him lowering down onto his chest between your still propped up legs.

“Can’t give it to you again so soon, sweet, needy girl, but I can taste you,” He’s growling out before his hands are back on your hips and pulling you to his waiting, open mouth. It should be dirty, the way he makes out with your puffy lips and sensitive core, teeth gently nipping at the almost pained bundle of nerves right at your crux, facial hair scraping against silken skin, but it’s only fueling the heat that hadn’t seemed to dissipate as it begins to crawl across your skin once again.

“We…um, we should do something for Aiden’s birthday this year.” Millie was behind you on a horse of her own, Lowry helping you to lead the typical patrol you did twice a week. It had been a long conversation between you and Joel many months ago, when winter was still chilling the air and frosting the ground overnight. But it was now warm, bordering on hot as the sun simmered over the Wyoming landscape. But today, he was busy in town helping to finish repairs that a spring storm had ravaged on a few of the powerlines. New posts being installed and a patrol gone out to the water plant nestled by the dam that allows for life to flourish here.

“We should.” You agree, mind lost in thoughts of the man already, the day he lost his life the one right before it. “Maybe we could have a little picnic at the cemetery, make his favorite foods and clean it up a bit.”

“That sounds perfect, Olive.”

The rest of the patrol is spent in easy comfortability, even as the younger girl tells you of her intentions to move into the house Joel had once occupied alongside Callie and Nolan. She had hesitantly taken up the brother of her new close friend on his offer for a drink one day, the memory of her past love giving her pause. But when she had told you of her trepidation, you had gently urged her to listen to her heart because she deserved the kind of life in which she could love and be loved in return. Everyone did, even the once ostracized and solemn soul you had been.

She had become a somewhat staple in your life now, and not one born of anxiety and constant worry of occasional interaction. Now she was right there beside you as you helped Callie to navigate the exciting early months of her baby’s life, giving her advice on how to keep them from getting too fussy over hunger and bouts of bad sleep. She had named the girl after you, your actual name something you seldom used even with new people. The nickname Tommy had given you sticking far better than it ever had, and to be honest you didn’t much feel like the woman who had carried that name throughout the early stages of your life.

Jackson giving you a second chance, an environment to change from the ways you had been forced to fight for survival. Just as the nickname had allowed you to feel like a better version of yourself, you smiled as it was muttered from the yawning mouth of a slowly waking Joel every morning. His arms curled around your middle, pulling you flush to him as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. His gravely good morning pressed to your skin through his soft lips this morning. Feeling more like the person you wanted to be alongside him, thanking the heavens and stars for aligning and allowing you two to cross paths.

Millie deserved that and you had told her as much. Neither of you mentioned how it almost seemed like she had wanted your approval and blessing to move on from the person that bonded you both.

Easy conversation flows between you both as you circle the wide perimeter of the settlement’s land. The sun now fully up in the bright blue sky. Birds and small mammals sing and chitter away as the horses make their way on the unmarked path, making you feel at ease almost as much as being out here with Joel does.

Once you’re back within the gates, the horses settled back in their stables, and Millie waving in parting do you feel the enormity of the day once away. The promise of meeting tomorrow for an early lunch at the cemetery lingers in the air. Sighing, you adjust the wide-brimmed hat atop your head and the button up shirt where it had rucked up slightly before pivoting your steps from the direction of your street to the front of the settlement.

Maria is overlooking papers set out before her, a fussy Macon in her lap covered in crumbs and remnants of her attempt at breakfast. He was beginning to eat solids, but he was a picky fellow much to your chagrin and his parents’ exasperation. Motherhood looked good on the woman, though you knew she had always carried that label. Fatherhood looked good on your dear friend Tommy, despite the worries and anxieties he had trusted you to keep to yourself when he shared them with you. He was in the line to get some food of his own, a plate that looked to be filled with the favorites of his wife’s directly from the kitchen beside his own empty one.

You sneak into the kitchen from the door by the buffet line up, steps quiet as you moved toward the back corner of the space that housed your little desk and stool by the dry goods storage. The mug you favored, one made of speckled ceramic and stained a faded orange was pulled from behind the recipe books you had been browsing the day before. The crops were different this year, the farmer’s almanac that had been saved from the actual city of Jackson before the world fell not accounting for the lack of carbon emissions and changed acidity of the soil. Planting would look different this year from last, and with it a new menu needed to be planned.

Even as you rifle through the papers with half a focused mind, you’re aware of the few in the kitchen remarking about your unusual midday visit. As your coffee dwindles down, an older teen who had approached you the other day asking if he could be on your service in the kitchen for his first assignment silently refills it and adds the cream he knows you favor in it. You offer him a small smile as he looks up from where he’s mixing it together in a perfect caramel color. He seems momentarily stunned as pink dusts his freckled cheeks and then he’s moving back to focus on his tasks for the day.

Tommy is popping his head in a few hours later, the scent of pine and the metallic of nails thick on him as he approaches. His hand clamps over your shoulder, a laugh tumbling from him as he notices the switch from coffee to a few fingers of whiskey you had made about an hour back.

“Workin’ hard, Olive?”

“Should ask you the same thing, all finished with the repairs?”

“Yeah, your old man headed home, might’ve worked him too hard today.”

“Hush, he probably did circles around you, and you know it.” You lightly tease as you bookmark the page your on with an old scrap of paper and shut the thick book. You turn to see him watching you with a soft expression, knowing that he’s done the right thing by checking up on you. You know he had seen you slip into the kitchen earlier, but he had let you be, figuring you would know best how to handle your emotions.

“Yeah, if my brother’s good at anything, it’s working himself to the bone. Did it a ton to support himself and Sarah, and me for that matter. Took any and every job he could get. Then didn’t want to bring anyone else on to cut the work because of the wages it would cost him.” He’s chiding the past version of his brother, knowing that for that moment in time, he would’ve done anything for his family. The harsh truth of that sentiment only flourished in the outbreak and subsequent loss of their third member. But you both know that Joel worked so hard to overcome what he had been transformed into because of that loss and the state of the world, you both see it every day how much he’s changed.

“She was lucky to have him as her father, he cares so much for her even now.” You feel his hand slip from your shoulder as you stand, his eyes watching you as you down the remainder of your drink. The ice clinks in the empty glass and you take it over to the industrial sink.

“He took that part of his life seriously, don’t think he ever rested unless she had everything she needed and wanted. I’m sure you were much the same, even if the circumstances were different.”

“He’s good like that, even if he doesn’t realize taking care of himself is just as important as taking care of others sometimes.”

“Sounds an awful lot like someone else I know.”

“Go blow smoke up someone else’s butt, I’m already makin’ you dinner.” You stick your tongue out at him, hoping he realizes just how grateful you are to have him in your life, a true friend.

“Just wanted to check if we were still on for that, I know today is…a lot and didn’t want to force anything if you weren’t up for it.” His eyes glint in the sunlight that takes over the kitchen as you hit the switch and turn off the artificial ones. You gather the casual button up you had shucked from your shoulders as the crew shut down the line for the afternoon, once the last of the food served, and began to clean. You had helped to wash some of the larger dish pans, not wanting them to feel like you were watching them without being obvious about it. No, you had willingly helped them to close down the kitchen for the day, thanking them all when they signed the sheet you reported to the council at each week’s end.

“It’ll make me feel better, to make food for those I care about. To share a meal at a full table, wallowing won’t do me any good.” The assurance is as much for you as it is for him as you both walk through the door and out into the back of the building. He walks you home in a comfortable silence, a grin taking over his lips as people call out your nickname and wave at you in greeting as they walk home themselves or sit out on their porches.

You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you turn onto your street and see the shadow of something on your porch steps. As you and Tommy get closer, it appears to be a basket full of daily essentials and a few jars of jam, butter, and one that suspiciously looked like malt liquor. A few letters are made out to you, your nickname written in looping scrawls and a casserole in a covered pan. Small things to help ease the pain of the day, the loss of someone in your life. A well-known fact around the settlement, the date marking one of the few tragedies it had encountered.

Tommy’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you to him as he hears the hitch of your breath before a sob wracks through your body. It takes an embarrassingly long time for you to gather yourself, blubbering words of gratitude and appreciation at being seen and cared for as he guides you into your home and helps to put the basket up on the kitchen hutch and the casserole in the fridge. With a kiss to your temple and reassurance in the form of a watery smile, he leaves you to get ready for dinner and fetch the rest of the family.

You piddle around the house as you contemplate opening the letters, leaving them for later in the evening to sit in bed with Joel for him to read them to you. The attitude and negative attention on you still too fresh and tender for you to handle seeing what they had to say on your own, though you doubted any of it would have ill-intent. A shower calmed you down, allowing you to wash away the dried tears and the sweat that had soaked into your skin throughout the day. Giving you a moment to yourself before Ellie would be beside you in the kitchen, so willing to learn what you could teach her.

It’s a little too hot as the sun begins its descent to kiss the horizon, beating down on your exposed shoulders as you cross the expansive backyard to the workshop Joel had built for himself on the property. He had left a note for you to fetch him once dinner was done and you were doing just that. You rather liked the domesticity of sharing your home and your life with the man, something that only once been a deep seeded daydream but not it was your reality.

Ellie was busy plating up portions for everyone, a record playing softly in the living room. She was blossoming as well, her time spent here allowing her the chance to lead the later years of her teenage life as she should’ve been able to beforehand. Joel had made that possible, everything he had done and sacrificed allowing for a slice of peace for both of them. She resided on your property too, the dilapidated shed turned into a space for her to thrive on her own but still close enough to what she knew as a guardian and mentor in Joel.

He had shared with you one night the choices he had made to ensure she would be able to live, to continue to live. He had choked up, lamenting that he didn’t feel like he was a bad man for the things he did and chose to do if it paid off for them to have the life they have now. You had listened with an open mind and heart, knowing the turmoil he must feel all too well. You had done bad things as well, to ensure the life of Aiden, both of you determined to change as a second chance of redemption was offered.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got somethin’ for you.” He greeted you with a sweaty kiss to your cheek, his large hands guiding you to stand in front of the desk he had been seated at. The scent of wood shavings and his earthy body wash filling your senses. “I finally got it finished up for you, forgive me for the time it took and the well, you know.”

You look from his sheepish smile to the top of the desk when he nudged his head toward it. The months that had drawn on long and with too much communication hang heavy in the air as he references them, you try to blink them away, not wanting to dwell on what was but take the shift of time for what it is now, contentment and happiness. Loving and being loved in return. He presses himself against your back, his body comforting even despite the heat that still lingered in the evening air, as if he knows you’re lingering just as he does sometimes, on the additional months you both could’ve been wrapped around each other at night, share morning kisses as you wake up and wait for the coffee machine to putter, of patrols that are now almost like bi-weekly dates.

Atop the desk is two completed cutting boards made of olive wood. Sturdy, set on four little wooden legs that allow for them to be slightly raised from the desktop. Sandpaper lays to the side, the dust of his actions neatly swept away as you take in the carvings he had engraved, olive blossoms. You reach out a tentative hand, looking at him out of the corner of your eye for permission.

He presses a kiss to your neck, the soft hairs of his thick moustache tickling and pulling a giggle from your chest. He gently takes both your hands in his and lays them flat over the closest one, palms a calming weight over the backs of your hands. His arms are supportive around yours as he noses against your hair, still up in a messy bun once you had returned to town and removed your wide brimmed hat for the day. He breaths you in, quiet and waiting as you caress the gift he presented. The wood is dry, though you can see the slight shine of the sealant he had painted over them. The carvings are beautiful, a testament to his focus and devotion as he spends so much time out here after working to earn his place in the settlement.

“Joel…” Tears prickle behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sight of the beautiful, crafted gifts being presented to you.

“Wanted them to be perfect, sweetheart. Know today isn’t the easiest for you and I wanted to try and cheer you up with ‘em.” His voice is a low timbre, shy almost as he shows you a part of his heart. Each time he does, it makes your own melt. He’s such a good man, even if he thinks he needs to work on it, to try at it, to actively change the chemistry of who he is to be so. But he was always good, deep down in the very core of who he is, it just got lost for a little bit and that’s okay. Because now he gets to be that good man once again, unapologetically. You’re turning in his arms, hands cupping his jaw to feel the patchy scruff that’s more grey than the brown that still peaks through and press your lips to his.

He's shifting too, hands trailing down from your bare shoulders and your back, following the curves of your hips to the outside of your thighs. Your breath hitches and the kiss breaks as he bears your weight to lift you up onto the desk, closing in to slip his tongue into your open mouth and his body between your legs. You feel the smile pulling at his lips, his favorite sound spurring him on. Kissing him is one of your favorite things in this broken world, he’s so soft, so responsive. His full lips plush and soft as they move against your own in a dance of adoration.

He preens underneath the soft touch, the gently exploration of your hands over his face. Telling you more than his words and actions that he had yearned for your touch long before he had felt it. Even now, it softened him, a light dusting of pink bloomed across his cheeks as he looses a breathy moan. His hands shift up from around your hips to cradle your face as you tangle yours in the tresses of his curls. Dizziness overtakes you as his lips press against yours again and again, the simple act to intimate and all encompassing. He kisses so deeply, passionately, hungrily, earning a whimper as his lips close around your bottom one to gently bite down.

He's breathless when he pulls back, tugging slightly on it before releasing it. His eyes are shadowed dark as they gaze into your own, lashes fluttering as his thumbs caress the tops of your cheeks. A different kind of heat flares in your chest and you stifle a giddy sound with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Dinner’s ready,” You halfheartedly say, not sure why nervous energy flows through you at the heated gaze he pins you with. Hooded eyes full of emotion as he leans forward with a rock of his hips against you for you to feel the bulge he’s doing nothing to conceal. Your legs rise to hook around his waist of their own accord and you feel the hardened thickness of him as he lazily ruts against you. The weight and thickness of him apparent even beneath the fabric as he shows you how much you affect him. The seam of your jeans is pressed just right by his movements and your head swims.

“Hungry for somethin’ else, baby.” He’s pulling the thin straps of your tank top down, warm mouth and slick tongue taking an exposed nipple into his mouth. Keening at the tug of his teeth, your hands tangle in his curls and your hips begin to move in tandem with his. Sawdust and dust mites explode into the air as the desk begins to rock along with your combined movements.

“J-Joel, please.”

He only hums around the bud between his teeth, nibbling before he moves to the other and does the same. His hand grip your ribs tight, the fabric bunched beneath your breasts doing nothing to dispel the heavy press of his fingers against your skin as he begins to move faster, desperately against you.

“C’mon, let go for me, sweetheart,” His tongue laves over your neck, teeth biting into the skin as he moves up to catch your swollen lips once again. He swallows down the whimpers and moans as if they’re the only thing he wants to consume, as if they could sustain him from now until the end of his days. His teeth clack against yours in the sloppy way you try to return the kiss, body rocking against his.

Suddenly, pleasure ripples through you, the bundle of nerves he’s thrusting against twitching as your body tenses around him. He groans his own sound against your chin as he feels the convulses of your release cascade through your body. His own so close, his hips stutter before he’s biting into the juncture of your jaw as you feel him twitch and dampen the front of his own jeans.

“You’re so good for me, always sound so sweet, love you so much,” He’s peppering kisses all over your dazed face, the corners of your eyes, the tip of you nose, the top of your forehead, your heated cheeks, everywhere he could reach without fulling back completely. His scruff tickles and scrapes lightly at your skin, pulling breathy giggles from you even as he fixes your top back the way it was. You’re gasping as his thumbs trail over your nipples through the fabric, body still singing from the orgasm he easily pulled from you.

His own chuckle is raspy, as he helps you to stand on wobbling legs. A hand around your waist as he walks along with you through the backyard, eyes lingering on the olive trees beginning to bloom their precious, white flowers. Cascading golden hour sunlight fills the sky as you hold tight to Joel’s hand and press a quiet ‘I love you’ into his skin. The smile he catches on your lips brings out one of his own and he’s pressing it to your temple as he ushers you up the few back steps to the house.

“Started without you,” Ellie’s voice calls from the kitchen as she hears you both enter through the back door from the enclosed porch.

“We’ll be right there.” Joel calls his answer before he’s ushering you into your shared room. A change of clothes and a couple of quick stolen kisses later and all three of you are sitting around the table in front of a big spread of different dishes. All put together by you with the help of the interested teen even if her attention span wasn’t exactly fit for keeping up with boiling and stirring as she had excitedly told you of the new comic she was reading curtesy of yours and Joel’s last overnight patrol to Teton. Tommy and Maria corralling a toddling Macon through the front of the house are the last puzzle pieces of a perfect evening.

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

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moonlightseve · 3 days

Text

So we all know that Stammi Vicino – Non Te Ne Andare is essentially Viktor’s cry for help in a world where he has neglected his personal life for twenty years, giving everything he has to his sport and becoming an untouchable god because of it. And the lyrics are so sad and I just want to talk about them and what I think is going on because I can’t get it out of my head.

I hear a voice weeping in the distance Have you maybe been abandoned as well?

We start out with Viktor looking for this person who can understand how he feels, that same desperation for connection between the two of them. They are not united yet, but are able to come together because of their circumstances. Viktor, who has no family that we know of (or even friends outside of skating) is so utterly alone that this chance at having another soul who gets him has to be this horrible gnawing desire.

Come now, I'll quickly finish this glass of wine I’ll start to get ready Be quiet now

The glass of wine only confirms my thoughts about his loneliness, in my opinion – he has been sitting there alone, silently, enjoying this small pleasure with no company. And now he moves to join this distressed individual addressed at the beginning. There’s little comfort here beyond an attempt to silence their crying, it’s less of an established connection and more of an acknowledgement of similar circumstances. He can understand what it’s like to be sad and alone without feeling like there’ll be any change.

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion

There’s some frustration here – Viktor is 27 years old when he skates Stammi Vicino. This is past the age where many people experience these passionate romances for the first time, finding a twin flame with which to go through life. Despite how much people adore him, how successful he has become, how admired he is… he cannot be loved because no one truly knows him. There’s so much media out there about people finding each other, these grand love affairs and lasting friendships that add so much depth to a person’s life. And he has nothing. It must be infuriating, to have so much and yet so little. And I think there might be something there with the “enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion” as well, with him reflecting on his own circumstances in comparison to these love stories. Why don’t they have to suffer the same fate as him, married to the ice? Why must his heart remain frozen and no one else’s?

This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

There is no meaning to his life, nor is there any meaning behind his connection with this other person. They do not know each other. This is fleeting, and temporary, and entirely impermanent… but god, he wants so badly. He knows he can’t have it but he wants to hope so much.

Stay close to me, don’t go away I’m afraid of losing you

This hope has taken root in his soul. Despite the fact that he is so utterly alone and this individual who maybe can just barely begin to understand how he feels isn’t truly with him in any way that matters, he can’t bear the idea of giving up this tiny thing that is all he has left. This is a moment of pure vulnerability, the admission of just how scared he is. He is going through the motions, facing everything he has to entirely alone. Even a fragment of attention and care sets him alight, he cannot bear to lose anymore than he has already.

Your hands, your legs, My hands, my legs, And our heartbeats Are blending together

Here he comes together with this person. I still don’t think it’s viewed as a bond that he believes in, but acceptance of potential and the fact that maybe they could have something together. He feels something intertwined in their souls, some semblance of similarity. And for him, that means a lot.

Let’s leave together I’m ready now

The glass of wine has been put down, he has acknowledged his anger and frustration, and he is ready to move forward. There’s something for him, maybe, if he keeps looking. He can only hope.

Now. I could go on and talk about what the banquet meant to Viktor, and how this was maybe the first time he had wanted a person in his life this way, or I could just talk about the duetto … which is what I’m going to do.

So the duetto contains some pretty obvious lyric changes, namely the fact that the verses

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

are removed. Hmmmmmmmm… all of the longing, none of the aggravation towards that sickly sweet romance? None of the denial that this could matter, the quiet desperation that maybe he might be allowed to hope for once? Because finally, after years of searching and waiting and quietly, so quietly, hoping – Viktor found someone who sees him. Who loves him, who wants him for who he is. They can stay close to each other, and neither of them will go away. Yuuri adds this color and warmth to his life that he had been looking for, and Viktor in turn has given Yuuri the chance to flourish and become the best version of himself, all the while having someone by his side who simply will not leave him. They are able to support each other in ways no one else can, and that is what makes their pair skate so beautiful.

#victor nikiforov #viktor nikiforov #yuri katsuki #yuuri katsuki #victuuri #yuri on ice #I wrote this instead of the paper I was supposed to be doing

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thefallennightmare · 3 days

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Can you do jesse w a girl on her period? Im currently on mine and its horrible so i could use the comfort lol

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @burning-outx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera @whenthesummerdies @lookwhatitcost @klutzy-kay24 @tashka @xxkittenkissesxx

"Shit," you whispered when you felt the wetness between your legs.

Not the good kind.

Quickly throwing off the blanket, you cursed again when you saw the redness that pooled on the sheets.

Jesse stirred awake. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

"No," you almost whined, embarrassed that he caught the sight of blood. "I'm sorry."

This was only the third time you slept over at his place so needless to say, you were freaking out.

"It's alright," he cupped your cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. Why don't you clean up and I'll put a set of fresh sheets on the bed."

While you were in the shower, you could hear Jesse moving about his room, all while singing a song softly to himself.

But you cursed again when you realized something important.

You didn't bring any tampons or pads.

"Jesse?" You asked, poking your head out of the bathroom while holding the towel to yourself.

"Yeah?" He appeared with a set of fresh set of his clothes, handing them to you.

"What are the chances you guys have pads or tampons?"

He pursed his lips before holding up his finger. "Two minutes."

As you waited for him to return, you worked on brushing out the knots from your hair.

"Noah's girlfriend keeps a stash in the hall closet for this reason," Jesse said while handing you an assortment of pads and tampons.

"Remind me to thank her," you giggled.

Once dressed, you slowly climbed back into bed with him and winced as the cramps started.,

"Cramps?" Jesse asked, already knowing.

"They get so bad but nothing ever helps besides sleep," you sighed while wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you into him.

His hand massaged over your lower stomach, working out the cramps, and lulled you to sleep with his soft singing.

#tina talks #jesse cash #jesse cash headcannons #erra #ghost atlas

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rocksibblingsau · 8 hours

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Love love love ur ideas!!!!

Do you have any more headcanons for Mount Rageon Branch or Adopted by Bergens Branch?

In Mount Rageon Branch, Velvet and Veneer are still a lil self absorbed and looking for the easy way out of things. They don't wanna do any hard work, meanwhile Branch is all about hard work and doing things for yourself.

Branch sees them fighting over wanting fame and it reminds him of his brothers, so he makes it his goal to help them realize their dreams AND remain close. Since they'd be training from childhood, they'd have a better shot at learning how to sing thanks to Branch.

I can't decide if they actually do end up good singers but if they do, Branch is their manager and there would be a moment where post BroZone reunion they see Branch managing and have JD flashbacks. Branch doesn't get bad like John did about controlling their image, but the sight of Branch taking charge and giving orders for show prep really reminds them of a less than happy time of their lives.

Branch: Alright guys, we're gonna open with 'Fame' and close with 'Watch Me Work'. No, wait. Open with 'Sweet Dreams' and close with 'Fame'. Now go out there and make Mount Rageous history! Bruce: Clay I hope you're also an EMT because I think I'm having a heart attack. Clay: I'm with you bro, this is disturbing to watch.

If they don't go the singing route, Branch helps them discover SOME sort of skill they can make it big with.

They don't call him 'Branch'. Velvet decided his name had to match theirs so they call him 'Vine'. They think it's a funny name since he's always on them 'like a vine'. Branch doesn't really care what they call him as long as they stop rubbing his hair trying to suck out his "singing magic".

When Velvet and Veneer found out about Bergens, her solution was "Just stay with us at all times. I'll hold onto you like the last designer handbag at a flash sale."

If they did encounter a Bergen, Velvet would hit them in the head with her purse that weighs 10 tons.

In Bergen Branch AU, Gristle is ironically the excitable kid while Branch can barely muster any enthusiasm for anything. Some people joke that it's like Gristle's a troll at heart and Branch a Bergen. Gristle doesn't go as apathetic and listless as he does in canon since I believe the catalyst was Gristle Sr telling him nothing would ever make him happy. Since in this AU he was given Branch, he was told that Branch would make him happy, so he still has hope.

When they're older, Branch is a sort of sarcastic adviser to Gristle. Everyone's kind of figured out that even if you can get one over on Gristle, the troll on his shoulder won't be fooled and he does NOT show mercy. Gristle also takes his opinion in pretty high regard about pretty much anything.

Branch also gets pretty comfortable with his concept of mortality and he makes jokes about being eaten by Bergens constantly.

Gristle: I got another letter asking if they can buy and eat you. Branch: At this rate I'd be tempted to tell you accept all of them and watch their faces fall when they realize fifty other Bergens also get a piece. Gristle: Branch. Branch: A peanut sized serving of grey troll. Gristle: Branch. Branch: That'd probably be the one thing that could make a Bergen more miserable than you already are, if that's possible. Gristle: Branch. I'm not selling you to get eaten by fifty different Bergens. Branch: You'd be doing me a mercy and ending my suffering.

Gristle: Branch I need you to help me with the audit. Branch: *lays on his palm* Eat me. Gristle: Later. For now you have to help me. Branch: F***. Branch: Is this how you derive joy? Making trolls do your paperwork? You're the only Bergen in the world who would make me do taxes instead of eating me. Gristle: You complain too much and it ruins my appetite. Branch: Has any troll ever not complained? Do you think on Trollstice we were all jumping for joy? 'Yippie! Death!' Gristle: I dunno, try it next time and we'll see if it works.

This trait scares and unnerves other trolls. Poppy asks him to stop once they befriend Bergens because she's worried they'll take offense and "They're our friends now, not troll-eating monsters. That's in the past."

"I'd like it to be in the present so I don't have to listen to another musical number."

#sibblings qna #rageon branch au #bergen branch au #trolls branch #trolls veneer #velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #king gristle

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isackwhy · 14 hours

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Heyyy, I was wondering if you'd be able to write a fic where the reader is having a terrible day and whoever you wish to write for holds them and sings to them and comforts them? Ty!

well. i’m high so u know i gotta do my boy isaac

isaacwhy x reader who had a bad day blurb/fic?

Everything was going wrong. You woke up angry the world like you were 13 again. You had run out of your favorite drink to start the day off. Then, you spilled water all over the kitchen before you were even dressed and ready. And then when you finally did and sat down to do some editing, your PC nearly shit the bed.

So, with a string of curses and a huff, you dialed your boyfriend.

That’s why Isaac is at your place as you pout on your bed, staring at him mess with your PC. “Do you want me to order food?” Isaac asks, sifting through your settings to find the issue. It’s running far too slow and nothing will open. You’d think it would be a simple issue, like not enough storage or something. No, of course it wasn’t fixed so simply.

“If you want to,” You reply dryly, trying your best to not let your mood sour Isaac’s. But, he freezes, no longer clicking on your monitor with your mouse. He spins around to face you, eyebrows raised. “Do you want food, babe?” Isaac asks again. You sigh, sitting up, “Yeah. Yeah. We can get food.”

Isaac narrows his eyes on you, “What’s up?”

“Just annoyed.”

“I’m getting this fixed as fast as I can, baby,” Isaac assures you but he’s met with an even louder sigh. “It’s not just that. I woke up angry. Forgot to get more of my favorite drink while at the store. I spilled water everywhere and I can’t even do my fucking work because my PC is a moron,” You angrily mumble.

Isaac runs a hand over his face, leaning forward in your chair, “Do you know why you woke up angry?”

“I’d be less angry if I did, Isaac,” You state, only to immediately regret your tone the second you see Isaac’s face drop. He’s just trying to help. It’s not his fault. You take a deep breath, moving to the edge of your bed, “I’m sorry. I just feel like shit, which isn’t an excuse—but, I’m sorry,” You tell him, reaching for his hands.

Isaac holds your hands, dragging himself towards you until your back hits your mattress and you’re cuddled up. Tears form in your throat and then brim your eyes but you hold back, trying wanting to hug Isaac. “Cabo Bob’s?” Isaac softly asks, resting a kiss to your head, “And I’ll have the driver get your drinks or—we can go get them while we wait for food.”

You sniffle, looking towards him, “Can we just—lay here for a little first?” Isaac nods quickly, resting his head atop of yours, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, babe. I love you.”

“I love you more,” You reply back, melting into his touch.

i hope this is good i’m high as shit

#tgc x reader #the group chat podcast x reader #the group x reader #the group chat podcast #the group chat #isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader

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angelfiedyaz · 13 hours

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Here's my Sweeny todTodd Davey rant

so if davey is humming "nothing's gonna harm you" obviously he must know Sweeny Todd (or just at least let me imagine) So my Headcannons is that it's one of Angels fav movies or that they just love Tim Burton movies and one day they ask to watch it with David and to their suprise it's one of his secret favourite movies so obvi Angel is ecstatic about this and they watch it and they dress up as Sweeny and Ms Lovett for Halloween one year and AhHHhHh I love them so much (I will be drawing this upon request!) Also 'nothing's gonna harm you' is definetly of Angels comfort songs now or it already was, it's on their sleep playlist and when they have nightmares or can't get to sleep Davey will sing it or hum it to them since it calms them down and puts them to sleep straight away, as usual Davey NEVER admits this

#Redacted rants with Yaz #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #sweeny todd #redacted audio #redactedaudio #redactedverse #redacted brainrot #redacted headcanons

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chuluoyi · 3 months

Text

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:25 P.M 」

tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!

a part of gojo's love entries

don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.

on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.

“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”

you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”

“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”

his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”

“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.

“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”

you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”

you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.

satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.

“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”

“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.

“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”

your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.

suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.

“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”

he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.

“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”

“satoru!!”

and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.

“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”

at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—

“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”

yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dad!gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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augustinewrites · 4 months

Text

it’s been…a while since you and satoru have gone on an assignment together.

having two young children at home made it difficult to take off on short notice and be away for days at a time. they needed stability and routine, so the two of you had decided that one person would stay home while the other was working.

for a while, that’d worked fine. but now that megumi and tsumiki were older, self-sufficient teens who loved nothing more than being left alone, satoru had seen this as an opportunity.

you’d still been a little hesitant, but it was a simple surveillance mission. easy, right?

“water. you need to stay hydrated.” you instruct when he gets back into the car. he takes the water bottle you’re holding out, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig.

“gakuganji isn’t even home yet,” he reports with a sigh. you hum, distracted as you check your phone. gojo reaches across your knees to pull open the glovebox, rifling through colourful snack wrappers.

“tsumiki hasn’t texted me back,” you mutter. “should i ask nanami to check in on them?”

“nah, i’m sure they’re just super busy trashing the apartment and racking up charges on the emergency credit card. ah– found it!” he pulls out a black silk sleep mask, slipping it on so it rests on his forehead.

“really?” you ask, unimpressed as he holds a second one out to you. “you’re taking a nap?”

“yeah, it’ll be easier to sneak around when it’s dark, why stay awake till then?”

“is that a good idea?” you ask, though you know there’s really no point in trying to argue with his logic.

“your fault for keeping me awake all night. late night laundry folding is no joke.”

“if you’d put it in the dryer when i’d asked—”

“can’t hear you,” he sing-songs, pulling the mask over his eyes. “you can take a nap too, you know. that old fart couldn’t get past us even while asleep.”

“i’ll pass on the nap. need to wait for tsumiki to text.”

he grumbles something incoherent that you’re sure is meant to be argumentative as he reclines his seat a little and lays back, getting comfortable and quiet.

…for about 45 seconds.

you watch out of the corner of your eye as he pulls the mask up a half inch, just enough for his right eye to observe you.

“what do you want now?” you ask.

then, with casualty akin to asking what you want for lunch, he clears his throat and asks, “do you want to have sex?”

“do i want to have what?” you ask, turning to stare at him incredulously, but your face is hot and for a split second, you’d considered agreeing.

“sex,” he repeats, patting his lap with a shit-eating grin. “we’re going to be here for a while, anyways. these seats recline way back—”

“i am not having sex in this car with you, satoru!”

he groans over-dramatically (as he tends to do). “will you at least cuddle with me then? i’m desperate and touch-starved and hopelessly in love with you!”

you make a note to figure out what cheesy rom com he stole that line from, but lean across the console to trail kisses up his shoulder, his neck. satoru does nothing to protect himself from your overly affectionate onslaught, he’s quick to catch your jaw, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“wait. no, no, no!” he protests when you pull back, eyes suddenly trained on the house you’re meant to be watching. “you can’t just leave me high and dry—”

“he’s home!” you whisper, pressing a hand over his mouth (though he continues with muffled complaints). “pull the car a little further back before we get out.”

you’ve already summoned your shikigami as satoru maneuvers the car into the dense forestry, about to send them off when your phone vibrates in your lap.

“oh! megumi texted me,” you inform him. “he said…‘already made dinner. tsumiki is out on a date—’”

the car grinds to a halt and abruptly turns, the momentum causing your to slam into the side of the car as it peels out onto the dirt road. you curse loudly as your fiancé, devoid of all his playfulness from earlier, speeds through the forest.

“what the— satoru!”

#principal yaga sighs when the mission report status reads incomplete due to ‘fatherly duties’#keeping up with the fushigojos #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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djljpanda · 4 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar X Fallen Exorcist Reader

Ever since his split from Lilith Lucifer has been a reck feeling like no one can love him, need him, or understand him again

You have been an exorcist for a couple of thousand years now being one of the best exorcists Heaven could ever ask for

But deep down you always felt bad for those you had killed feeling like yes Hell is for those who have done wrong but what about those who did the wrong things for the right reasons

So on the next extermination day you tried to run away from it all but when Adam found out he took it upon himself to kill you

You were able to get away before Adam could finish you off but nothing could prepare you for meeting Lucifer himself

For some reason Lucifer took you in and helped you out and yes you did come out to him about you being a “fallen angel” and your ideals on heaven, earth, and hell

Lucifer just sat there and listened and for the first time since Lilith someone understood him

Now at first you two became roommates in a way, mostly helping him out with his work, giving him duck ideas, being his bodyguard and secretary, and you did try to push him into talking to Charlie more but you understood on why he couldn’t do it himself

You did face palm as when he called her all he did was tell her to have that meeting with Adam, at least it’s a start

Charlie dose know of you but saw you more as her fathers secretary or his best friend, like an aunt, she is happy how you think there is a way to get sinners in to heaven and how you told her if she ever needs help or to talk to someone you are just quick call

Lilith dose know of you and you may have never seen her face to face she is happy someone is keeping her ex happy

Now if you ever get together it would be the best for the both of you cause I’m sure you would want to confess first but with the thoughts of you killing his people and Lilith, it just made you hesitant but with a simple duck jester (making a duck quack an “I love you”) Lucifer confessed his feelings to you

Charlie I think would be happy for her dad to have found someone and yes at first she did see you as her aunt but she is happy to call you her step parent sand she isn’t afraid of telling everyone that either

That’s one of the major reason on why Lucifer likes you, his daughter loves you like a parental figure

This Lucifer is just a sad boy so if you just sit there and cuddle him he would love you forever and if add words of praise he is just melting

Definitely will vent to you cause he is that comfortable around you and he is happy that you feel the same way when you vent

You always support his duck creations and yes late nights would consist of you two role playing with the ducks, when you two started dating he made three duck versions of you, him, and Charlie all matching clothes sitting next to each other, this man had a whole collection of duck versions of you and he was embarrassed when you found out but you called it cute

When extermination day hits he could see how tense you get and when you told him on what happened before he found you he couldn’t help but hate Adam more and so every Extermination day Lucifer would hold your hand and comfort you may even play a little music and it just grew more loving when you two started dating

You do help out with Lu Lu World as it’s one of Lucifer’s passion projects and no one could believe how upset you were when Mammon created Loo Loo land, you almost put your exterminator skills to use but Lucifer stopped you and let Mammon have his way cause he didn’t want to argue with Mammon so you just had to let it go

You both do play music together as when you were both angels all you did was play music, duets and you can’t tell me you, Lucifer, and Charlie didn’t sing together once

You remember seeing Lucifer’s wings for the first time and how amazed you were as you kept complementing him and that just made his face all red and what made you stop was when he commented o how your wings could have been more pretty then his, you just smile at him

Now here you two have more of a bodyguard/ secretary and famous person kind of relationship even though he may not need it he likes keeping you around and that just help made his feelings grow for you

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bagofshinyrocks · 6 months

Text

The Whole Bakery

Prompt: How will the boys respond to an S/O who slaps their ass out of nowhere? [Requested by @airghostlyfox]

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: expletives; lightly suggestive content

There he was. Making his morning cup of coffee. Comfortable sleep clothes and sluggish movement. Your handsome partner.

He had finally freed himself from the blanket web and your comfortable arms, with the intent to go through most of his “honey-do” list that weekend.

And he was so unaware.

That your arm was winding up for a powerful smack to his ass.

John Price

The sound was not as impressive due to his sweatpants, but the way he jerked and slowly put down the things in his hands was reward enough. He did not appreciate it. And he did not turn around.

“Luv,” he said in an even tone. “What the hell was that?”

You rubbed the offended cheek with the same hand, deciding against pinching, as he would win any fight you started.

“My darling John. Your ass is just so wonderful, I can’t help myself.”

Both hands gently squeezed his ass. And you pressed an apologetic kiss between his bare shoulder blades.

“You’ve got the whole bakery right here, bubba.” Gentle pats. Still no movement of his neck. “All these buns.”

Finally, he turned around.

He was trying very hard not to smile. Trying not to encourage you. But goddamn, did you look pleased with yourself. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you to his chest.

“You are-” Kiss. “Such a flirt.” Kiss. “And absolutely shameless.”

You kissed him back and lazily threw your arms over his shoulders.

Behind you, his arm raised itself and smacked your ass as hard as he possibly could. You folded into him with a yelp.

“GOD FUCKIN–!”

Simon Riley

The moment your hand left his cheek, he had turned on you and grabbed you under the armpits.

“Uh oh” was all you had the chance to say before he dragged you off to the nearest wall. He was smiling, but it was the smile that meant you were still in trouble. You chuckled nervously as he settled you against the wall, caging you in and leaning in close.

“You are a cheeky one,” he purred.

“Yessir.”

“Any particular reason we’re playful this morning?”

You wriggled your arms out of his grip, and settled your hands over his ass again. He let you, one of his fingers tapping your nose.

“Well, if you must know, Simon,” you said, adopting a matter-of-fact tone. “It is because your ass is just so delicious looking.”

He snorted at your blunt words and hid his eyes with his hand.

“Bloody hell.”

“I mean, just look at it, lover.” You firmly gripped his ass, squeezing ever so slightly. “All this cake.”

He sighed, but he was still laughing. You’re adorable. He loves you.

Kyle Garrick

You didn’t smack too, too hard. A peace offering for walking around in his boxers and nothing else. Your favorite outfit on him.

But he still jumped and gave you a dirty look.

“It is 8 in the morning, you shit.”

You turned him back around and massaged his ass, humming a cheerful tune. “I’m just gonna knead this yummy dough, don’t mind me.”

“You a cat? Making biscuits?”

You giggled and kissed the back of his neck.

“Oh, have you got some biscuits on you, loverboy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh into his cup, turning himself around and pulling you into his embrace. Soft, coffee-flavored kisses. Then his arms snaking lower, and his own hands settling on your ass.

“I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Sweeter than ‘I love you’?”

He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Mm,” he sighed into your mouth. “Tied for first.”

You pulled back and narrowed your eyes.

“What? Oh, right. I love you, too, baby.”

Johnny MacTavish

Of all the boys, he has no right to complain. A chronic ass-slapper. Repeat offender groper. Can’t sleep without one hand one you, be it your arm, your stomach, or your leg.

He was singing some song to himself, dancing a little. Background noise that kept him from hearing you until it was too late.

“Steaming bloody-”

You hit him too hard. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You ducked out of his grasp and started pleading for forgiveness.

“Baby, I’m sorry, that was harder than I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sor- shit.”

A mad scramble around the kitchen island. Never had you run away from your bare-chested Scotsman so quickly.

“Get your arse back here!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Fuck you mean-” He vaulted over the island and you screamed. Like a bird of prey, he grabbed you and dragged you to the couch, falling on top of you with all his weight.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you wheezed.

He smothered your face and neck in kisses, and accepted your apology. He would get you back later. With less force but greater number of ass slaps. You were sure of it.

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2023 Dec 12

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