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abbyshands · 3 months

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hers only

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc

a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!

p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.

you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.

abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.

she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”

come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.

maybe.

but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.

“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.

“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.

“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.

but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.

you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.

“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.

“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.

it was your fucking trainer.

“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.

“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.

you.

“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.

abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”

once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.

“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.

you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.

nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”

clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.

you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.

and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.

you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.

clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.

you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.

“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”

oh, that was fucking it.

abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.

and hers only.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.

you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.

because she looked pissed.

clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.

“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.

but it was abby fucking anderson?

neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.

“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.

“not a fucking word.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.

as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.

really, it was.

abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.

what a good day to have worn shorts…

when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.

and, fuck, did she look mad.

abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.

if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.

abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.

her strap.

“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.

you talk when she says you can.

“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.

bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.

and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.

abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.

especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.

she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.

when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.

and who the hell would you be to deny that?

your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.

you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.

“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”

your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.

she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”

“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.

“good. now suck.”

you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.

she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.

not for long.

“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.

and she’s barely begun.

“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.

“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”

just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

but it quickly blends into a moan.

her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.

“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.

abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”

just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.

your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.

“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.

but then again, that’s how it always went.

“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.

“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.

“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”

you didn’t.

abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.

if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.

and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.

“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.

“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”

you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.

“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.

so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.

you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.

“say it.”

“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.

“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.

you were more than okay with that.

“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”

you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”

“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin’,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.

“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”

you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.

and you let her.

“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.

which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.

“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”

and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.

your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.

what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?

“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.

abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.

“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.

“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.

“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”

like you said. almost.

you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.

“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.

and she needs you.

as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.

but this felt so much better.

your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.

literally.

abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.

“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.

because she knew just how to please you.

“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”

she just had to add that. for good measure.

“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”

you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”

abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”

“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.

but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.

“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”

abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”

you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.

“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”

well, that much was obvious.

abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.

“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.

you obeyed.

you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.

for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.

you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.

that was abby for you.

once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.

if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.

“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.

“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.

abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”

“mmhm,” you hum.

“but maybe that was a good thing.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

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#abby anderson #abby anderson fic #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby tlou #the last of us smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #tlou2 smut

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venusiansilk · 28 days

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‎‎ ꒰ you ask satoru for a favor without greeting him first. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. no gendered terms. canon au. fluff. est rel. 0.7k. sfw.

although satoru's always known you’re a stubborn brat, he absolutely loathes when you don’t greet him but meet him with requests and gentle demands. “baby, i need a favor.” you spout as soon as you gain proximity to him in the courtyard. you haven’t even made it all the way to him before you’re blurting it out at him and he looks at you as if you’ve repulsed him. “try again.” he tells you sternly. grinning at his response, you quickly adjust your demeanor and give him the twinkling eyes you know he’s weak to. “hi, my toru.” “better. hi, my baby.” satoru leans down to press a gentle kiss to your nose. “what’s the favor?” “my student has a crush on megumi and they’re not quite ready to act on it yet, but i want them to at least be able to talk to him, you know? maybe exchange numbers with him? and…well…you lived with him? and he’s your student?” his brow quirks in surprise. “that’s…not what i was expecting. well, what do they even see in him?” “maybe it’s the dead stare.” you reason with a shrug.

“yuuji or even toge i could almost understand, but megumi is…so aloof.” satoru muses. he shakes the thought away after a moment. “which of your students wants a shot with my prickly pear?” “sato akira. she’s a bit on the shyer side, but i really want to see her blossom this year, so please help me. please, please, please.” satoru scoffs, appalled you’d ask him for a thing without a reasonable offer to exchange. “and just what do i get out of it? you being pretty isn’t gonna cut it this time, sweetheart.” “desserts on me.” an easy counter. humming, he contemplates before gently shaking his head. “i can get my own desserts. you’ll have to do better than that.” “no, no,” your soft chuckle coupled with an amused smile. “desserts on me,” not a drop of hesitation remaining, satoru nods viciously and chirps, “okay, i’ll help! whatever my baby needs.” “thank you, i missed you.” your hands slide into both of his. “did you miss me?” you ask it cutely, swaying your arms as you tug him closer to you with a satisfied and flirty smile, always cheeky in how you choose to adore him but it's always a moment of sweetness satoru indulges in greedily. he kisses you three times in a row. “you know i did. missed you every second you were gone, but i wish you would have started with that, you little brat.” “sorry,” your sheepish voice sweeps into a devout promise and an ardent declaration. “i won’t do it again, baby. i was just excited. i love you.” “love you,” he tugs your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “you busy anymore? can i have you for the day?” a nod. “i do need to do some grading, but i can do it next to you, i suppose. also, you know you don’t have to ask. all my free time is yours.” “arguably the hottest thing i’ve heard today.” mumbled as he kisses your knuckles tenderly. “can you go to the store with me? i wanna pick my sweet treats to eat off your delectable body and i have to replace the strawberries i ate.” “you need to stop eating my fruit without asking when you come over.” you chastise him, a gentle fist against his chest. “irrelevant,” he pouts, pulling you into his torso, long arms weaving around your frame. “you coming with me, baby?” “we need to make a list beforehand. you know i can’t do a grocery store free-for-all with you. we’ll be there for hours. and i already told you my free time is yours so don’t be needy.” you smile adoringly as you say it and satoru can’t help the way he mirrors it. a part of him never thought he’d see the day he was finally able to make it work with another person and dance to the same tune. the strongest is so used to being the loneliest, but the love nestled between you both feels unwavering and indissoluble to him. satoru grumbles under his breath, “i’ll be what i want. you’re mine.”

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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year

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Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family.

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy.

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things.

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?”

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice.

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner.

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar.

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ.

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots?

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you.

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you.

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why.

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor.

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony.

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception.

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too.

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated.

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you.

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed.

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered.

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff.

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot.

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question.

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people.

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy.

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress.

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced.

God, he wants to kiss you.

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention.

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you.

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look.

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them.

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride.

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom.

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne.

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.”

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights.

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back.

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you.

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room.

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling.

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again.

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him.

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers.

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile.

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him.

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine.

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between.

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him.

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust.

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high.

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better.

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense.

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.”

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute.

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room.

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket.

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom.

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom.

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming.

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake.

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely.

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words.

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you.

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute.

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint.

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

Thank you for reading! x

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x you #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x y/n #jake x lil bradshaw #my writing

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wriothesleysgf · 7 months

Text

pretty boy. — gojo satoru

notes: some domestic gojo, because god knows everyone needs it today.

content: no angst, here we just reject canon and embrace fluff. implied non!sorcerer reader, but can be read either way. established relationship. not proofread. this post is leak/spoiler free! this song is the vibe i was going for, if anyone is interested.

"honey, i'm home!"

the familiar, ever-joyous tone of one gojo satoru rang through the apartment; it was always the highlight of your day. you, however, didn't respond. it concerned him a little, to be honest, but as soon as he heard the sounds of soft music echoing from the kitchen, he knew just where to find you.

you were too busy gently swaying to whichever song the radio station was playing to notice gojo. so, like any adoring boyfriend would, he leaned against the doorframe and watched.

he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have a love like you. with his position in the world of sorcery, and the prestige that his name carried, gojo always thought he'd be alone. hell, he was absolutely petrified of catching feelings for somebody, since there would likely be people willing to hurt the people that he loved in order to get to him. rationally, he knew he could defeat them, but the thought always lingered.

thus, he was incredibly grateful for peaceful moments like this. moments where he could forget that he was the honoured one, and feel like all he is is yours— because that's all he desires anymore.

gojo knocks on the doorframe, not wishing to startle you as you cook. you jumped a little, but immediately settled the very second you saw those blue eyes and messy white locks. he looked so effortlessly attractive, even after a full day's work.

without even saying a word, he saunters over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. his chin rests on the top of your head, and he continues to sway you to the rhythm. as he hums softly, you recognize that he's probably had a difficult day. it's not like him to be so quiet.

you relax under his touch and let him hold you, knowing he needs it right now. "i love you," he mumbles. each words is sincere with him. the tone is more sombre than usual, almost like you'd have expected the words to come from nanami instead.

you get to a point that you can leave the food alone for a moment as it cooks, and turn around to face gojo. his arms remain around you, but you can see his face more clearly now. he's exhausted, and trying to mask that. you move a few stray hairs out of his face, carressing his cheek. "i love you too," you finally reply.

the returned sentiment puts a smile on his face. it's not the regular, goofy grin he displays around others. it's something more real, and it makes you feel like you're one of the few people that gojo really lets in on how he's feeling. if anything, you quite literally are, as his infinity was lowered the second that he stepped into the threshold of your apartment.

since your guard is so far down, gojo begins to move you with ease. he guides your body around the kitchen, causing the pair of you to fall into a rather messy slow dance of sorts. both are content, at peace in each others' arms. there's a blissful silence, a rarity for the gojo household, where nothing but the calming music fills the air.

the two of you remain in this little, serendipitous bubble for a while. the only thing that pops it is when the food on the stove makes a concerning noise, and you notice that you were so caught up that it began to burn.

"shit!" you squeal, leaping out of gojo's arms to try to salvage your meal. he just chuckles, finding your hectic movements amusing.

"baby, don't worry about it," he says, smiling as he pulls out his phone. "i'm ordering in, we can deal with this mess tomorrow,"

gojo then moves closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms so that you can't escape with ease. he waddles backwards towards the living room, not stopping until you're both plopped down on the couch (of course he's on top of you, pinning you down yet somehow not suffocating you with the mess of long limbs that he is).

he flicks on the screen, which is showing some older and kind-of sappy romcom, and presses a few buttons to order your food. the night ends with the coffee table littered in takeout boxes and some movie still playing— you weren't sure what, as you had both fallen asleep in each other's embrace long ago.

#♡｡ now tracking: kfairy ☆.ᐟ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #gojo fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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fairysluna · 1 month

Note

hi girl! i’m so glad ur trying to get back to writing bc all ur works are so good! for the character/trope thing, can i choose canon cregan w targ!reader with the trope grumpy x sunshine? with the reader being sunshine! can’t wait to see what u come up w! i missed u!

thank you for your sweet words my love! i really, really appreciate it😭🤍 i tried my best, and though you asked for targ!reader, i did not write any physical description for reader... hope that's okay!🤍

tags — fluff, grumpy x sunshine trope

“You'll age sooner if you're always mad, my love.”

The sweetness of your voice was all he needed to hear to relax his shoulder and posture, shifting from one serious semblance to a softer one. Once your hands reached his shoulders, he even let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the instant your perfume reached his nose. He breathed in, almost humming in delight thanks to your mere presence. “I am not mad,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer enough to hide his face on the crock of your neck. “Not anymore at least…”

“Not anymore?” you softly giggled, your hands immediate going towards his hair, tangling your cold fingers with his deep brown locks. “Was the meeting with Lord Mormont too stressful for you?” You grabbed his cheeks after he refused to answer the question, forcing him to open his eyes to stare at you. Cregan tilted his head, groaning, and you couldn't help but smile at his expression. “Look at you! You're frowning already!” You brought your index finger towards the space between his eyebrow, circling the spot until he relaxed his muscles again. He sighed.

“Stop it,” Cregan muttered. “I do not wish to talk about it today.”

“Alright, then we shall not talk about it…” Cregan whispered a small thank you, his eyes getting heavy thanks to the exhaustion of such a busy day. He leaned forward, wanting to go back to bury his face on your neck, yet you stopped him. The Warden of the North moaned loudly as a complaint. “I cannot believe it… you've barely seen me today and you still haven't kissed me yet!” Cregan pressed his lips, holding back a groan. Then, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you towards him and trapping your lips in a slow, tempting kiss that took your breath away.

Such a gesture was only stopped after a few seconds, when the both of you were breathless with swollen lips. A silly smile appeared on your face, which was contagious enough to make him smile too. You sighed, delighted with the sight of your husband in front of you. “Mhm… there it is,” you softly murmured, standing on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his. “That beautiful smile. You should wear it more often.”

“Don’t be greedy,” he said. “You've become spoiled.”

“You love me just like that,” you shrugged.

Cregan let out a breathy laugh, kissing the corners of your lips and wrapping you in his arms. “I love you just like that,” he agreed, smiling like a fool.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

#cregan stark #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #hotd #house of the dragon

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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months

Text

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin

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phyrestartr · 12 days

Text

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (TEASER)

#full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, typical canon violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS

A/N: this fic is so long rn lol I just have to release a piece of it into the wild :sob: feel free to reply if you want to be tagged for the full story when it's ready

☆☆☆

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails.

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful?

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him.

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him.

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing.

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces.

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud.

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

“They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated. “They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.”

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature.

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him.

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make.

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you.

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape.

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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gureumz · 11 months

Text

come to me, make it right

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

notes: fem-bodied reader, backup dancer!reader, slight dom!heeseung, canon-compliant (?), dirty talk, semi-public sex, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, cum-eating, reader breaches professionalism lol

a/n: let's give heeseung a break and let him have his (your) cake 😔 so here i present the backup dancer fic! don't lie to me i know y'all wish it was you bc i do

"he's really something, isn't he?"

the question catches you off guard, your head turning abruptly as you give your friend a look. sion, dressed nearly identically to your all-black get-up, scoots closer to where you're seated on the floor, shoving her shoulder right up to yours.

"what are you on about?" you question before taking a big gulp from your water bottle.

"heeseung," she whispers, gesturing with her eyes to the tall figure standing across the practice room. he's typing on his phone, back turned to you.

"what about him?" you ask.

"he's good. like really good. one of the better idols i've worked with," sion explains, hooking an arm around yours.

"oh, please, you wish you could work with him personally," a different voice whispers from your right. serin, another one of your co-backup dancers, slides up to where you're sitting.

"too bad _______ got the gig first," serin adds, nudging you. you roll your eyes as the two of them collapse in giggles.

it's been two weeks since you were onboarded onto this project for enhypen's comeback. today was the dance practice filming and you can say that so far, it's been smooth sailing for the most part. the company was generous enough and the performance directors were easy to work with. the members themselves gave you no problems whatsoever, though you could only truly speak for one of them.

heeseung was nice enough, extremely polite, but also tremendously serious when it comes to performing. you've only known him for all of the two weeks, but you know better than to get in his way. you stepped on his foot once and you remember wanting to disintegrate right then, but to your surprise, heeseung merely smiled, reassuring you that it was fine.

it was rather easy to fall into rhythm with him. you don't know if it was your doing, or his, or both, but it's like the two of you spoke the same dance language. there were barely any words uttered, but understanding passed between you effortlessly.

he was kind of sweet too, always asking if you've eaten, if you need any more water, if his hand placement was too much. you appreciated it, a far cry from some other people you've worked with that barely spared you a glance. you'd be fine with the bare minimum of friendliness, if it was all out of courtesy that heeseung asked you all these questions. but the way he stares down at you attentively has your stomach churning. whether that's a good or bad thing, you've yet to decide.

your eyes draw towards heeseung as he pockets his phone, his gaze somehow finding yours in a split second. before you could look away, he smiles, waving rather cutely at you.

you wave back politely, quickly signing a 'have you eaten?' to him. heeseung shakes his head and points back at you as if to ask, 'how about you?'.

you reply no and heeseung pouts.

'eat soon, okay?' he mouths to you. you hold up the 'okay' sign and heeseung nods, satisfied.

sion and serin fall silent as the three of you watch heeseung gather with the rest of enhypen, all seven excusing themselves to go eat. heeseung locks eyes with you briefly one more time and smiles, eyebrows raised.

and then they were gone.

"what was that?" sion asks, grinning like a feline.

"he's being nice," you contest. "doesn't jungwon tell you to eat when you should?"

sion balks at that, clearing her throat. "he does. he's very considerate."

"but that," sion continues. "that look is different, ________, i'm telling you."

serin nods enthusiastically in agreement. "right? do the two of you talk outside of practice?"

"you guys are so unprofessional," you complain, though a smile creeps onto your face.

"and, no, we don't."

---

"did you see my kakao request?"

you peer up at heeseung, eyebrows knitting together. it takes you another few seconds to register what exactly he was asking.

"you added me on kakao?" you finally ask back.

his hands are in his pockets, a fluffy blanket wrapped tightly around his frame. the weather in poland is more than a little chilly this time of year, a struggle for you all as you drag yourselves through the music video filming.

heeseung chuckles, his eyes squinting down at you. "yeah, last night."

"sorry, i must have missed it," you reply sheepishly, pulling your own blanket tighter around your shoulders. "i have about a dozen requests at any given time."

"ooh, someone's in demand," heeseung teases, nudging you lightly. you laugh nervously, scanning the set around you.

the members and their respective dancers have gotten friendly over the course of the comeback preparations. nothing too chummy, but all of you are comfortable enough to strike up conversations with each other on and off schedule. it was nice, getting to know the guys of enhypen a little better.

but the way heeseung caught up to you in this dark, secluded part of the set where you were merely looking for cell service makes it look a little too suspicious.

'what do you want?' is what threatened to come out of your mouth. you often think you would rather be dead than be caught in a dating scandal with an idol. not that you're assuming anything, but you've seen this behavior before, and heeseung really is just a man at the end of the day, so who's to say that—

"um, is everything okay?" heeseung asks, waving a hand in front of your face. you blink, your surroundings coming back into view. you look up and are met with heeseung's grey-colored lenses. you stop a shiver from running down your spine at how hard he's staring down at you.

"yeah, sorry," you respond hurriedly, clearing your throat. "what i meant to say is, i have messages from people asking for dancers for a program or shoot or what-have-you, all those stuff."

heeseung nods before looking away, eyes scanning the staff as they arrange the set. before neither of you could say anything more, jake's head pops out from behind a stack of equipment boxes.

"hyung? oh, there you are," jake says with a start, noticing you at the last second.

"hi, _______!" he adds cheerily.

you smile warmly at him, slightly relieved that someone is there to interrupt.

jake turns back to heeseung. "jungwon says to drop by the hair and makeup tent for a bit."

heeseung nods at the younger, brushing past you to get to jake.

"see you in a bit," heeseung says, fingers lightly curling around your forearm. you tense up but nod in reply.

"see you," you return weakly.

you wait until the two of them are gone before sighing, stalking off to the other end of the set to where the dancers' tent is set up.

---

studio choom is one of your favorite parts of being a backup dancer. the staff was nice, the set was wide and airy, and the lighting was amazing. your excitement concerning the last part was evident in the way you couldn't take your eyes off your phone as you held it in front of your face.

"i look so good," you comment with a laugh, surveying yourself on the camera display. "even with the mask and all."

"right?" serin agrees from behind you, getting into frame with you. you quickly snap a couple photos.

the director barks out an order to get into blocking and you quickly hide your phone away, silently thanking in your head one of the other dancers for bringing in the large tote to hold all of your devices.

you walk under the bright multicolored lights onto the actual filming set, hovering over the general area of where you're supposed to be blocked. you wait for the members and other dancers to find their places, eyes downcast as you try to find your exact spot.

a hand brushes your arm and you look up to see heeseung smiling down at you.

"you look good," he mutters quietly before walking to center, getting on his hands and knees as he settles into his starting position.

serin passes in front of you, eyes expressive enough that you instantly get what she's saying despite half of her face being obscured by the mask.

'what was that?!' her eyes seemed to cry out.

you shake your head. 'i have no idea,' you respond as best as you can with your own confused gaze.

the director calls out another command and everything else is dropped as all of you fall into performance mode. autopilot takes over you, every take passing by quickly, much to your surprise.

an hour and a half later and on the last take of the chorus, you find yourself restless, stomach already grumbling. you pick at your long black gloves, wishing for this day to be over.

enhypen are in formation in front of the camera, with the dancers at the wings, ready to approach for the chorus. somehow, despite blending into the shadows of the set, heeseung finds you, tilting his head to the side in a sort of greeting.

you mirror his action and heeseung instantly smiles. you can't help the grin that breaks out behind your mask.

"last take, everyone!" the director calls out.

with a little more difficulty than you'd like to admit, you rip your gaze away from heeseung's, a tingling feeling settling in your stomach.

---

almost all thoughts of heeseung disappear from your mind as you get home later that day, too exhausted to pore over every interaction you have with your dance partner. you lay sprawled out on your bed, having just finished freshening up, eyes heavy as you feel drowsiness creep into your consciousness.

the keyword is almost.

you hear a notification ping from your phone and your sleepiness is immediately replaced with pure adrenaline. your read the notification over and over again just to make sure you weren't imagining it.

이희승 (lee heeseung): hi

you sit up, your heart pounding. leaning against your headboard, you watch as another message comes in.

이희승: you up?

you snicker, opening your kakaotalk app. heeseung's name is at the top of the chat room, easily indicating just who you're talking to. you quickly type a reply.

너 (you): ooh he finally messaged ㅋㅋ what an opening tho

you chew on your lower lip as you send the message, the 'read' sign immediately appearing. you watch as heeseung types out his reply.

이희승: lol sorry did that come off too creepy?

너: not at all. why the sudden message tho? was my performance that bad that it has you staying up at night?

이희승: oh no nothing of that sort. just wanted to say thank you for your hard work today

you blink, cheeks growing warm. he messaged you at ass-o'-clock to thank you?

너: thanks! you did super well today too

이희승: don't i always? (pouting face)

it's at this moment that you realize, without a shadow of a doubt, that lee heeseung, a member of a globally renowned k-pop idol group, is flirting with you.

you lock your phone, laying back down on your pillow, contemplating on what to do.

you could always flirt back, then act as if nothing happened the next time you see him. see how far the two of you can take it. you might end up sneaking around green rooms and closets, but, hey, half of the fun is the thrill of getting caught. or you could shut it down now, rejecting him gently because what kind of unprofessional loser would fold at the slightest display of romantic interest from an idol?

you sigh.

you would.

you're a (slightly) unprofessional loser that would fold at the slightest display of romantic interest from an idol.

you open up your phone, fingers moving at lightning speed.

너: my bad. you always do well (wink)

a whole minute passes by, heeseung typing then stopping then starting up again, before he stops once more for a few seconds. you feel anxiety seeping out of every pore on your body.

이희승: good girl ㅋㅋ that's what i like to hear

you gape at your phone, a strange tingle spreading all over you.

you take a moment to scream into your pillow.

---

you're waiting for it to boil over. to culminate into something. for shit to hit the fan, as you would inelegantly put it.

you left heeseung on read last night, at a total loss for words at his reply. he doesn't press further, either. in your mind, he's probably thinking one of two things: 1) that he deeply offended you, or 2) that he's achieved the desired effect.

you don't have to think too hard about which one of those is true.

you enter the assigned green room to you and the other dancers, poking your head in first, eyes landing on your coworkers lounging about.

"oh, _______!" sion calls out excitedly. the rest of them turn their heads to you, erupting into similar squeals.

"close the door!" serin orders. too stunned to protest, you do as you're told, leaning against the wall as all of your friends talk over each other.

"heeseung was looking for you," sion's voice rises above the rest and your eyes unconsciously widen, your heart rate picking up.

"yeah, he came here himself and asked where you were," serin adds, nodding.

"what's going on with you two?" another dancer, yeeun, asks in a singsong voice.

"n-nothing's going on," you say with a laugh, waving them off nonchalantly.

"like we'll believe that," sion retorts. "we'll keep it a secret, promise!"

the rest of them agree, sounding like a chorus of schoolchildren hearing about their teacher's boyfriend. you sigh, setting your things down on the floor.

"we're messaging on kakao, that's all," you admit, shrugging.

"sexting already?" serin chides with a laugh. you give her a look as the room erupts in laughter.

"you guys are hopeless," you say with a shake of your head, but you can't help but laugh along.

"we're not sexting. not...yet," you add. there's a pause before the laughter grows louder, all of them throwing jokes around about being safe and dating scandals.

"luck you," yeeun says with a sigh. "it's taking jake forever to make a move."

the whole room shifts its attention to her and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. your phone vibrates and you feel your whole body grow hot as you read your screen.

이희승: come out for a second

before anyone can stop you, you quickly slip out of the green room, looking down in both directions of the hallway. to your right, you see heeseung standing outside enhypen's own waiting room, eyes staring at you intently.

with a nervous glance back behind you, you make your way to him. the hallway seems empty at this time, with most artists and staff in their respective rooms, the early prerecording hour hanging heavily over everyone.

"hi," heeseung says with a grin the moment you're near enough to hear him.

"hi," you respond, fidgeting with your hands. you scrape over your knuckles with your nails, waiting for heeseung to continue.

"about last night, i'm sorry if i went too far," heeseung begins, voice dropping, eyes looking around nervously.

oh.

so he's thinking option number 1.

"oh no, not at all," you reassure him. "i appreciate the gesture. i know you were only trying to be friendly."

heeseung raises his eyebrows as you say this. he purses his lips before speaking.

"friendly isn't the right word, exactly...," heeseung says, trailing off. he bites down on his lip, eyes momentarily flitting up and down over your figure.

it's your turn to be surprised.

"i see," you reply.

there's a long stretch of silence after this, both of you avoiding each other's eyes. an awkward laugh escapes you and heeseung follows, scratching at the back of his head.

you finally look up to meet his eyes, his pupils blown wide as he seems to consider his next words.

"i mean, i'm down if you are," heeseung says, stepping closer. "i won't hold it against you if you aren't, though."

you don't need to be told what his words meant. with the way he's staring at you right now, eyes unmoving but filled with something you can only describe as desire, you know full well what heeseung is implying.

"i am," you say after a moment. you're still fidgeting, hands clasped together in front of you. heeseung notices, his own hand coming up to lay on yours, stilling your movements. his fingers curl around your wrist.

"are we waiting after the recording or...?" you ask, letting heeseung pry your hands apart. he grips you firmly and you feel yourself practically igniting from his touch.

"i could use a pick-me-up right now" heeseung throws out casually, as if merely suggesting that the two of you get coffee. he jerks his head towards the door right next to their waiting room.

"this one's empty," heeseung informs. "i checked."

you can't help but grin up at him. he licks his lips as if he's looking down at his next meal, which you know, isn't that far from the truth.

"and no surveillance cameras, either," heeseung says, leaning down to whisper next to your ear.

without replying, you walk backward in the direction of the empty waiting room. heeseung follows, still gripping your arm, letting you pull him along. you never break eye contact, even as you reach behind you to turn the knob, pushing the door open.

only now do you avert your eyes away from him, stepping into the dimly lit room, a single weak lightbulb turned on in the farthest corner. with heeseung right behind you, you hear the door close, and without missing a beat, heeseung tugs you back, hands grabbing you by the waist.

he shoves you against the door, his face impossibly close to yours, your breaths mingling as you practically pant in anticipation. heeseung reaches down, locking the door, the click of the mechanism deafening in the silence.

"you can still say no," heeseung whispers.

"why would i do that?" you say before leaning forward to kiss him.

heeseung sighs against your mouth, his hand holding one side of your face to keep you steady. you're both still in your casual clothes, and you thank the heavens for this because your hands slip easily underneath his oversized hoodie. your palms smooth over his toned stomach and up his chest where you lightly rake your nails back downward.

you gasp when you feel heeseung roughly grab one of your boobs through your shirt at the same time he pushes a knee between your legs. you belatedly realize that it's today of all days that you've decided to wear a miniskirt.

"making my job easier," heeseung teases, as if able to read your thoughts. he smirks at you, planting a brief kiss on your lips as he angles you better on his thigh.

"your job...," you say in between labored breaths. you feel yourself growing wetter as you grind down on the taut muscle. "...is to fuck me before anyone notices we're gone."

heeseung grunts, pulling his leg away, ignoring the way you whine at the loss of friction. he pulls your skirt up roughly, letting it bunch around your waist. you gasp as you hear the sound of ripping fabric.

"heeseung!" you say in disbelief as he pockets your now torn-up lace panties. he merely chuckles, leaning in to kiss down from below your ear to your conveniently exposed chest, a feat made possible by your skimpy tank top.

"turn around, baby," heeseung whispers, planting another kiss, but this time, on your nose.

you stare at him for a moment, eyes bleary. are you really about to do this?

"please?" heeseung adds, eyes wide and round as he utters this one word so sweetly.

with weak knees, you do as you're told, letting heeseung press his chest flush against your back. you mewl when you feel his rough fingers slip between your slick folds, rubbing up then down, circling around the relative area of your clit. he finds it a second later, pressing down and working it expertly.

"fuck," you say, voice trembling. you let out a startled noise as you feel heeseung press a large hand over your mouth.

"no one can see us here but that doesn't mean they can't hear us," heeseung says against the shell of your ear.

"so i need you to be quiet for me, baby, okay?"

melting at these words, you could do nothing more but nod. heeseung kisses the back of your head tenderly. you hear him tugging his sweatpants down, letting it pool around his ankles.

you whimper when you feel a hard poke on one of your asscheeks, anticipation bubbling in you. you wriggle around, spreading your legs slightly apart and sticking your hips out.

"good girl," heeseung praises you, pressing his tip right against your hole. "doesn't need me to tell her what to do."

heeseung keeps his hand pressed firmly on your mouth, ensuring to muffle any sound that escapes you. and it's a good thing, too, because you're tempted to sob when you feel him push in, filling you in one swift motion.

"god," heeseung grunts as he bottoms out. "spent so long imagining what it would feel like to fuck you like this."

heeseung lets go of your face in favor of bracing himself against the door. you gasp out, the feeling of him quickly overwhelming you. and to think he hasn't even moved, yet.

"tried so hard not to let my hands wander but, fuck, you make it so difficult," heeseung says directly into your ear. he gives his first thrust and you decide to take on the responsibility of covering your own mouth because the stretch from his cock threatens a scream out of you.

"those goddamn stylists putting you girls in those tight dresses," heeseung continues. "and they expect us to keep our eyes and hands still?"

your eyes roll back at the filthy admission. heeseung grips you harshly by the waist and the whole world falls away from view when you feel him hammer in and out of you.

it's unknown to you how you could keep yourself upright, your knees feeling as if they could give out any moment. heeseung fucks into you roughly, your words about finishing quickly before your absence raises any questions seemingly spurring him on.

"so good, so fucking good," heeseung blabbers on, surely lost in his own pleasure. you lean back against his large frame for support and heeseung is quick to wrap a hand around your throat.

"yes!" you gasp out, blood rushing loudly in your ears as you feel heeseung squeeze down around your neck.

you wonder what you must look like right now. if anyone on the off chance would walk in on you and see your clothes and hair disheveled, your already short skirt pushed up even further, back arched in pleasure as heeseung fucks into your throbbing, drenched pussy. as if reading your mind again, heeseung prods against your mouth with two fingers, slipping them inside, leaving you no choice but to suckle on the salty skin.

at this moment, the two of you are possibly the very image of sin.

"squeezing me so tight, babe," heeseung breathes out against your neck. you gasp when you feel his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder, soft moans escaping his own lips.

heeseung pulls his fingers out of your mouth and drool drips down your chin. he grabs at your neck once again, tighter this time, his other arm wrapping around your midsection as he picks up the pace.

"fuck, i'm getting close," heeseung practically growls, maneuvering the two of you away from the door.

"help me out, baby," heeseung pleads in your ears. "tell me how good you're feeling."

you finally let out the sob that's been fighting its way out of you.

"h-heeseung you feel so g-good," you comply, voice breaking from heeseung's vice grip around your neck.

"want you to ruin me like this every day. need you to f-fuck me in front of the practice room mirror," you continue, trying to find the right words despite the growing haziness in your head.

heeseung lets out a noise. "yeah? wanna watch yourself get split open like this? every day, huh?"

you nod frantically. "yes, yes, yes! d-didn't know i needed you this bad."

heeseung grows quiet as he holds you against him, hips snapping up erratically. you're sure that you've made a mess on the floor by now, seeing as you're absolutely drenched. the thought pushes you closer to your own release.

"c-cum for me please," you implore, feeling yourself shake at the thought of your impending orgasm.

"yeah, angel, gonna cum for you. g-gonna cum in this tight, gorgeous pussy. so good for me, letting me fuck them in s-some dark room right next door to m-my manager and members and all the staff, fuck—!"

heeseung abruptly stills, hand falling away from your neck. you take in a gulp of air, your fingers frantically reaching down to rub at your clit. you feel heeseung twitch and spill himself inside of you and you squeeze your eyes shut, coaxing yourself closer to euphoria.

finally, the floodgates open and your whole body seizes up from your orgasm. heeseung's face is buried in your neck and you can vaguely register him encouraging you through it.

you relax after a few seconds, leaning hard against heeseung as you feel your body nearly give out. heeseung pulls out but quickly replaces his cock with two of his fingers. you whine weakly, head lolling back against heeseung's shoulder.

"i got you," heeseung coos, working his fingers in and out of you at a languid pace. you twitch in oversensitivity, complaining how it's too much.

heeseung retracts his fingers and you catch him licking them clean just as you turn to face him. your eyes have adjusted in the dim lighting, heeseung's features coming into focus.

"you just tasted yourself," you say in half surprise and half bewilderment.

heeseung breathes out a laugh, letting his fingers out of his mouth with a soft pop.

"had to keep it in somehow," heeseung says nonchalantly. "seeing as i, ah, compromised your underwear."

you roll your eyes, giggling. "i think you more than compromised my underwear. you tore it in half, heeseung."

heeseung shrugs, donning an unapologetic expression. you swat at his chest playfully but you stop mid-laugh when you feel something drip out of you.

"oh god, fuck—," you start to complain, but before you could get another word out, heeseung drops to his knees, doe eyes peering up at you.

heeseung prods your legs apart, sticking his tongue out just in time to catch his own cum dribbling out of you.

"i'll clean you up, baby," heeseung says, mouth already pressing against your leaking hole.

all you can do is grab onto his shoulder, eyes rolling back as you feel your clit twitch with newfound arousal.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #w: heeseung

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popponn · 5 months

Text

a boyfriend package. [itoshi rin x reader]

summary: itoshi rin is good at soccer. itoshi rin is not good at jokes and cheering up, but for you, he tries anyway. (aka, you are stressed and rin is there.)

notes: this fic had so much thought but the main is "if you have itoshi rin on your side you could probably do anything". to everyone at uni and school, good luck. warning: other than minor curses, none. fluff, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, reader is a student struggling against exams & essays.

“You are not done yet?”

You, a student who had probably resembled a zombie more at this point, lift your head up from the materials you were supposed to finish within two days. There were certainly other problems you were facing, however, you had no strength to gaze at them at the moment. Instead, you landed your eyes on your boyfriend, leaning against the doorway of your room with two cups of store-bought coffee. Which was hilarious—Itoshi Rin, a solid football career, an aloof reputation which was very true, and no educational deadline because of said football career.

Wait—does Itoshi Rin even drink coffee?

Your brain couldn’t really remember that piece of information.

It could curse out your very lovely and handsome Rin out of envy though. You wished him a very slow internet connection until your freedom next week.

Hearing how the voices in your head had started complete nonsense, you shook your head and returned your focus back to the wall of letters that didn’t seem to have an end in front of you. It would be better for you to save your words and thoughts for this seemingly unending hurdle, instead of using it to say things about the very kind Rin who bought you coffee.

Though, you did remember what one of his friends posted on Finestagram yesterday. A picture of a bunch of guys having fun outside. A hand around his shoulder in an act of friendliness and a very clear time that was spent pleasantly. Without pressure too, on top of that. Fuck—you tried not to cry—you are so jealous of them.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Oh, right.

You forgot to reply to him.

“Not yet,” you smiled bitterly, “there are still some more left.”

Which was an understatement. Around two thick piles of papers awaited you.

As it was, Rin didn’t even bat an eyelash at your response nor to the faraway look you gave to the tower of books on your desk. He, however, did put a cup of coffee right beside your left hand. On that cup, a smiling mascot with a peanut shape said something about enjoying your time. You didn’t know if the correct choice to that was to bawl or to laugh like a madman.

You were half-asleep after eight hours of cramming and your brain felt like it was burning. In the end, even a tear or a chuckle was a bit beyond your capability at this point.

“…hey,” Rin said again, flatly. A hand awkwardly placed itself on one of your shoulders.

“You sure say a lot of ‘hey’ today,” you noted, leaning your head, slotting it on his stomach. His muscles were hard, but the proximity did comfort you. “…what is it though?”

“…if I drive, and you say ‘stop, deer’,” Rin began awkwardly, out of nowhere with a voice that trembled slightly as if he was under an incredible weight, “I will say ‘yes honey’.”

You stopped breathing at what he just said. No matter how scattered your brain was, you immediately snapped him a bewildered look. You knew you were on the verge of insanity, but Rin—

“What.”

You had been dating him for two years and more and Rin—as much as you love him—is definitely not a joke guy. Did he got possessed? Was it because he drank coffee?

As you ransacked your brain for an answer, you watched an explosion of red on Rin’s face reaching his neck. As that hue stayed on his face, unbudging, Rin’s face turned sour and darkened as he muttered some violating insults that seemed to be directed at Bachira and Otoya.

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Rin. What? Huh?” you repeated, trying to grasp the situation. “Who put you into this?”

You knew you were risking your study in what could end up being a prologue to two murder cases, but that joke was bad enough that it restarted your brain. You would risk a 4-hour delay because honestly what could make Itoshi Rin joke—

Oh.

As the silence between Rin and you stretched, you realized how he seemed to lose the courage to see you in the eye. A red face that was as bashful as it looked like a face belonging to a terrible stomachache patient, yet the comforting pressure Rin gave to your shoulder as he rubbed his thumb—suddenly, it was as clear as day.

This fine dumbass of yours was trying to cheer you up, it seemed.

You laughed out loud at that—perhaps a bit too high-pitched with too much wheezing. However, imagining Rin taking a page from his friends’ books—fuck you hate those words so much still right now but yet—just to cheer you up, it is adorable. And, Rin seemed to accept your ugly chortles as his eyes finally moved to you again.

“Did—” you wheezed again, your whole body still shaking as you pressed your chin to his hip. The smell of Rin’s detergent was your preferred fragrance, widening your smile even more, “—did Bachira and Otoya put you into this? Is that why you cussed them out?”

“Don’t come up with your own conclusion,” Rin scolded with a tone that spelled out relief and fondness.

“Then, what is it? Tell me—you just made a joke. A pun. That’s something,” you teased. In the back of your mind, a heavy static was still present, yet you really couldn’t mind their presence with Rin beside you like this.

Rin grunted and messed up your head, looking down at you with a look that was certainly too soft for his cold & cool guy brand. “Shut up. That’s none of your business.”

“Aw, come on! Tell me!” you protested. Rin shook you off as you started to try and pull his cheeks with your grubby hands. Walking away, he pulled a stool that he had left behind in your room after his tenth visit to your house many months ago.

“No,” Rin said curtly, leaving no room for protest as he tapped your laptop screen lightly. “Now get back to studying.”

At the reminder, it was your turn to wear a sour glum on your face. “Ugh.”

He glared half-heartedly at you. Bumping a knee against your chair slightly. “Don’t fucking say ‘ugh’.”

“But…” you wanted to say that you still wanted to tease him a bit more. You wanted to just do something with him a bit longer. Returning to the passage of curses meant that you couldn’t do that.

Rin looked at you for a moment. You couldn’t fathom what went through in his mind as you glanced at him. However, whatever it was, it pushed Rin to get his face closer to you.

Then, before you could even react to it, Rin pressed a light kiss on top of your forehead.

It was soundless in the way it was surprising. Your eyes were wide as Rin pulled away and returned to his previous position. This time, the red hue and his inability to look you in the eye returned. Looking towards anywhere but you, Rin perched his chin on top of his palm.

“Hurry up and study,” Rin ordered once again. “I will accompany you today, so stop whining.”

There was a prime chance for you to tease him about not practicing instead. Yet, for a solid 30 seconds, all your brain had become was a mush and an incoherent noise. Rin probably should take some responsibility and you should demand so—

Yet, you could only smile and return to your study. Hooking your ankle with one of Rin’s just so you could feel him close still.

“You owe me a kiss and a treat after this.”

“I bought you coffee already.”

“Oh, Rin—come on, I need motivation—”

“Fucking finish it first.”

Afterward, you pulled out a miracle by finishing everything within 3 hours and the rest was history.

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me-and-your-husband · 11 months

Text

if you lie down with me || e.w.

summary: there's one thing you and ellie don't have in common: immunity.

warnings: not beta read, swearing, blood, canon typical violence, death by suicide, ellie has concerning ideations, smut, oral, scissoring, multiple orgasms, angst!, crying during sex, arguing, probably more

word count: 6k

a/n: i know, i'm sorry for using this photo 😭 actually i'm sorry i wrote this entire thing

The end never feels like the end, does it? When you wake in the morning, the air is as fresh as the day before and the sun streams through the window at the same angle. You smile fondly at the incessant banging on your door, and at her urging tone when she tells you to get out of bed. “We have patrol,” she says, like she's said a thousand times before. What makes today any different?

The gravel road feels the same as it crunches under your boots as she leads you to the gate. Her auburn hair shines the same in the light, the same way you've admired since you were fourteen and she had just settled in Jackson.

You were helping out in the library, arms full of books stacked above your head. You struggled trying to keep them up with one hand and shelve them with the other. She noticed you from the corner, where she sat with a pile of beaten comics and a Walkman. “Need some help?” she asked, standing up from her spot on the ground. She took half the books from your pile and put them wherever you told her. After, when you asked her about the comics she was reading, her face lit up and she knew that you'd be a part of her life until death. Finally, someone was interested in knowing her.

The friendly faces of the watchmen at the gate were the same as they were yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year. They waved at you and wished you good luck as you mounted your horse and rode alongside Ellie onto the trail. The way she shoved her pistol in her back pocket and slung her bow over her shoulders was always the same. The way your horse galloped evenly alongside Shimmer did not deviate from the norm.

When she spoke up, her words were usual.

“Look, babe. A hummingbird,” she said with glee, pointing to the frosty trees.

You smiled at her excitement. “Poor thing, it's so cold out.”

“Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember, El,” you laughed. “How could I forget?”

How could you forget? It was a humid summer afternoon, shortly after Ellie had turned sixteen. You had snuck out of Jackson to explore a creek you had found the day prior on group patrol. You so badly wanted to show Ellie, to share every part of you with her. You didn't know what to call it, but you assumed it was just because you were really good friends.

The soft rush of the water and the gentle breeze across your skin contrasted to the beating sun plastering your hair to your skin. You and Ellie sat with your backs against a wide oak, watching minnows skip through the water.

“Do you think animals have feelings? Like us?” Ellie thought out loud.

You hummed, “I do, but not as complicated as ours.”

She nodded in agreement before her eyes drifted to the source of a new sound, a gentle humming. She saw the gentle bird sucking nectar from a flower, tapping your shoulder gently and pointing.

“Look, a hummingbird,” she whispered.

“Woah!” You beamed, “I’ve only seen them in those nature books in the library. That's so cool. Did you know the sound actually comes from its wings?”

As you watched the hummingbird, she watched you. “It’s really pretty.”

You agreed. She said your name, but looked away from you.

“Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

You let the words settle in the air.

“I think I do too.”

It was the first indication that something else could happen between you and her, something less platonic than you would've thought. After that, neither of you said anything about it, confident in the fact that something more could exist in the spaces between.

It was the same confidence you had today as you followed her through the Wyoming woods, putting your trust in her. You took the same path almost every time you went out on patrol, knowing your way around, knowing the landmarks of the area. You knew you were getting close to the danger zone when you saw your favourite tree, the one you and Ellie would lean against by the creek, telling each other secrets into the night, crossing your heart to never tell another soul. Each of you knew that the other’s soul was the only one that mattered, anyways.

It was just over a year ago that you’d both carved your initials into that tree, reminders of that early morning on patrol bringing a smile to your face.

You had stopped for a moment to take a short break against the tree, letting your horses get some rest. Ellie leaned up against the tree as you pet Shimmer. The sun shone despite the snow and the brisk weather, illuminating your features gently. She admired the curve of your lips and the shape of your eyes, imagining her fingers tracing your skin under lamplight late at night. You looked up at her when your name tumbled from her lips.

“Yeah?” You said, continuing to pet Shimmer.

“I like you.”

The air stilled and your hand faltered, breath hitching. But what if she didn’t mean it like that?

You forced a laugh. “Well, I’d hope so. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“No, I…” she struggled for the right words. “I want to be more than friends. I like you. Like…romantically. And stuff.”

She played with her fingers, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow, not meeting your gaze.

“Ellie, look at me. Please,” you whispered. She raised her eyes to yours, but still kept her head low, not bringing it up until your hand cupped her jaw. She moved her hand on top of yours, trapping it there, wondering if it was just a dream.

She closed her eyes tight when she saw you leaning in, praying that you weren't messing with her. When she finally felt your lips ghosting across hers, she leaned into you. Your touch was fire on her skin, leaving a red blush in its wake. She pressed your mouth to hers hungrily, never wanting this to end.

“I like you too,” you mumbled against her lips.

When you finally broke for air, chests heaving, you were both beaming. Ellie nervously reached into her pocket for her pocket knife, flicking it open. She held the blade against the bark of the tree, grabbing our hand and putting it on the hilt, sliding hers over top of it.

She guided your hand as you carved your initials into the tree, trapping them inside of a heart. It was cliche, but it meant everything to you.

It was the same tree that, a year later, you and Ellie passed on almost every patrol. The same tree that symbolized your everlasting love for each other. The same tree that stood since the dawn of your and Ellie’s time.

You rode casually in comfortable silence until you got to the watchtower, negative memories plaguing both you and Ellie. The floorboards still held the echoes of your voices yelling, still soaked in your tears.

Four months ago, when the rabbits were still brown and the path was clear of snow, you'd come through this watchtower to find two clickers. It caught you both off guard, as Jesse and Dina had just cleared it as safe the day before.

Ellie, always being the hero, snuck up behind one, taking it out easily, and lunged at the other. The second one, however, pinned her to the ground, and she held it by the neck, its arms clawing hers.

The sound of your pistol rang out as the body slumped on top of Ellie. She rolled it off and got up from the ground, chest heaving.

“Well,” she said, brushing dirt from her jeans, “that was pretty close. Thanks.”

When you didn't respond, she turned to see you standing with your pistol still in both hands, brows furrowed as you watched the dead body of the clicker intently. She called your name.

“What is it?”

You shook your head.

“Come on, tell me-”

“Every fucking time, Ellie,” you said, shoving your pistol back in your pocket and turning away from her. “Why do you have to run head-first into danger like that every time?”

She didn't say anything, gaze on your back as she watched you turn back around.

“What would I have done if you had gotten bit?” You said, voice a little watery. “Say something.”

She stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. “I don't try to, you know, it’s just…” she sighed.

“You know, Ellie, sometimes I think that I value your life more than you do.”

The words hung in the air between you two, both of you knowing that you were right. Knowing that she could've been more, done so much more, saved so many people. But she was stripped of that. So what kind of meaning could she give to her life? What did she really have to live for? Before Joel, she never really had someone she knew would care if she died. Now she had you, and she didn't know how her recklessness would affect you. Now she did.

“Okay, you're right. I’m too reckless. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start thinking before I react,” she said, voice softening.

You huffed, “I just worry about you, El. I don't know what I’d do without you.”

She hugged you tight, letting you nuzzle into her chest. She knew how you felt. Before you, she was hopeless. She didn't see a point in doing anything if her life couldn't be used by someone. What was it all for? Everything she'd struggled through? All she'd suffered?

Now she knew that she was forced to experience it all so that she could end up with you. And she’d do it a million times over.

She breathed your name. “I need to tell you something.”

You pulled away from her, “Well that's one way to start a conversation.”

She laughed nervously. “No, it's nothing bad. It's just…it might be hard to swallow.”

She gestured at an old, ratty chair. You sat and watched her intently.

She took a deep breath, drawing it into her lungs and releasing it. “Do you remember why I got my tattoo?”

“Yeah, to cover up that chemical burn.”

“I lied,” she said. “That's not why I got the tattoo.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, silently begging her to go on.

“When I was fourteen, I was bitten. On my arm.”

You sat back in your chair.

“I waited and waited for my mind to go, for my body to go, for anything to happen, but it never did. So…I’m immune, or whatever,” she said, searching for a reaction.

Seconds of silence passed. It was shattered with a laugh.

“That's a good one, Ellie. Real funny.”

“It’s true! Ask Joel. Tommy. Maria. They're the only ones who know…”

“And you expect me to believe this?”

“Just trust me. Please. It's all I ask, is for you to trust my word. Why would I lie to you about this?” She pleaded.

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because Joel thinks it's dangerous for people to know. That's how we met, you know. He was hired to get me to the fireflies…they were going to make a cure,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end.

“It didn't work, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Joel says they didn't need me.” Joel says.

“Okay,” you said, making her look up at you. “I believe you. But that doesn't mean I’m fine with you running head-first into infected like that again. Just because you're…immune, doesn't mean you can't be torn apart. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, crouching in front of you and putting her hands on your thighs. “God, I love you.”

You cleared out the watchtower and made your way back to the path. This part was one of your favourites, winding through the mountains. Your horses trotted casually beside each other.

“Okay, okay, here's one: What do you say when a chef dies?”

“Oh god, I don't know?”

“He pasta-way!” She said, giggling before she could even say the answer.

Her laughter was contagious, sending it bubbling through your chest. “That's so bad that it's good.”

“Come on, just admit that I’m a top-notch comedian. If the world wouldn't have ended, I’d’ve been up there with Dave Chapelle.”

“Who’s Dave Chapelle?”

“I don't actually know. Some old ass comedian Joel told me about.”

You both laughed, smiles painted across your faces. However, the giggles subsided as you felt your horse start to shake slightly.

“Woah, Shimmer, you okay girl?” Ellie said, patting her side.

“Beau’s shaking too.”

“Maybe they’ve got…I don't know, a cold or something? Can horses even get colds?” You shrugged. “Maybe we should let them rest for a bit.”

You agreed, dismounting your horse and planting your feet on the ground. The shaking underneath you didn’t stop. You looked at Ellie, who looked at the mountain behind you. She yelled your name as you looked behind you.

A loud, grating noise sounded as you watched the earth of the mountain loosen from its side, rocks and boulders tumbling from it, falling in your direction.

You hurriedly mounted your horses again, kicking their ribs to get them to go. You rode as fast as you could, attempting to beat the oncoming landslide. You'd never seen one before, only heard stories and read of them in books. You were about three quarters of the way through the mountain range when the land detached from the mountain and began to slide.

“Go, go, go!” You yelled, Ellie a few feet ahead of you as her horse was younger than Beau. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure you were still there.

The rocks falling created a settlement of dust around you, making it increasingly harder to breathe. You finally saw the green clearing outside of the mountain range. Almost there.

The grating noise died, and you peered behind you to see the path completely covered in rubble. A few boulders still tumbled from the mountain, or whatever was left of it.

“Watch out!” Ellie yelled. You looked to your right, seeing a massive boulder rolling down the mountain, coming right for you.

You acted before you could think, much like Ellie, and propelled yourself forward off your horse as the boulder hit Beau and rolled atop of his body. You landed on the ground near Ellie, propping yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the sight.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, running to Beau. His body was mangled, bones sticking out of the skin and blood painting the grass. You felt like vomiting.

Ellie dismounted her horse, still shaking from the adrenaline, and put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to get you standing.

“Wait,” you said, leaning back down, planting a teary kiss on Beau's muzzle.

You stood, holding her tight. “Let's never come through here again.”

“Don't think we can, sweetheart,” she said, looking back at the obstruction. “Come on, we've gotta find a new way back home.”

She was about to help you mount Shimmer when you both froze in your tracks. A low, husky groan rung out through the air, scaring Shimmer. She ran into the clearing out of fright.

“Shit,” Ellie breathed.

“We’ll find her later. Come on, we have to go. It's either a bloater or a shambler, and I don't really want to stick around to find out.”

You turned to leave when the ground shook again. You turned around, looking back at the mountain. It wasn't the mountain shaking this time. Spewing through the hole the landslide left like spiders were hundreds—if not thousands—of infected. Clickers, runners, stalkers, bloaters, shamblers. Everything.

There was no way you were making it out of this unless you legged it now.

In unison, you and Ellie started sprinting to your last checkpoint— the old cabin. You ran faster than you ever had before, the sounds of hungry infected hot on your heels. You couldn't feel your legs, the burning in your flesh too intense. When the cabin finally came into view, you couldn't even allow yourself a breath of relief. You and Ellie had your guns out, shooting behind you as you ran, picking off as many infected as you could. When you were close enough to the cabin, the idea hit you. You knew that the creaky boards of the cabin wouldn't hold that many infected off. You knew what you had to do.

“Ellie, cover me!” You yelled as you slung your backpack off your shoulder and grabbed what you'd need. You grabbed an old bottle of whiskey you and Ellie had found at the watchtower and a rag. Stuffing the rag in the bottle, you lit it with your lighter.

In the ten seconds it took you to do this, the infected crept closer and closer to you. Ellie tried picking off as many as she could, keeping them away from you. Until her magazine ran out.

You threw the molotov in front of the hoard of infected. It exploded, creating a wall of fire between you and your death.

Until a single clicker went at you from the side. The light of the fire flickered in your irises and cast an orange glow across your face, and you didn't even hear it creeping up amidst the roar of the flames. You didn't even hear Ellie yell your name.

It tackled you to the ground before you could even turn your head all the way, talons scratching your arms and legs, sinking into your stomach. Its jaw was inches away from your neck, begging to gnaw on your jugular. In the struggle for your life, you couldn't even tell where you were and weren't hurt, what was bleeding and what wasn't.

Blood gushed into your hair and eyes as you watched Ellie slice its head clean off with her pocketknife. The same one you'd carved your initials into that old oak with.

Something inside of you rattled knowing that something could be used so innocently and yet so dangerously.

Ellie picked you up from the ground and helped you limp into the cabin, reeds of grass tickling your wounds. When you entered, you stood in the centre of the room as she barricaded the entrances.

“There,” she said, returning to you. You were both coming off adrenaline, suddenly feeling the ache in your bones to an indescribable extent.

You put your hands on your knees and leaned on them, heaving a little. “Ellie. We were so close.”

She just nodded in understanding. Her eyes survey you from top to bottom. You had a scratch across your cheek, a few minor lacerations across your arms and chest, and a few on your legs. She couldn't see any bites.

You brought your right arm up to run it shakily through your hair. That's when she saw it, brutal and bloody, painted into your skin like a brand. One that would decide your fate. Except that it had already been decided.

The sight of the bite on your forearm turned her stomach. She blinked over and over again, hoping that she was seeing wrong. Maybe she was still coming off of adrenaline. “Your arm…” she breathed.

“What?” You asked, confused. You looked over your left, then your right, and…oh. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. It wasn't like you'd been badly injured, still with a sliver of possibility for recovery. No, this bite sealed your fate.

In the next day, you were going to become something Ellie had to detest. Something she had to kill.

You felt the bile rise in your throat just in time to grab a decayed flower pot. You choked out everything in your stomach and more.

Ellie grabbed her stomach as she felt her body start to shake, that feeling creeping up her spine again. Her breath felt like it was being siphoned out of her. She needed air, but her lungs would not take any in. She hyperventilated as she threw herself back against the wall, legs giving out.

A sweat broke out across her body, knowing that she's losing you tonight.

Her mind shoved memories into her vision that she swore to never bring up again.

“There're a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight…for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes…or two days. We don't give that up.”

She remembers the small, impossible slice of hope in Riley’s eyes, one that she knew was futile. Riley was her first love. She thought they were both going to die. She felt…horrible. You would be her last love, though she knew only you were fated to die. She knew she would die too.

Your voice calling her name broke her out of her fit. One look at you wiping your face and shaking was enough to make her want to break something, anything.

“Ellie,” you called. She stood and began pacing, running her hands over her face. “Ellie, stop it.”

“There's gotta be…there has to…we need…” she babbled, still pacing. An idea clicked, “give me your arm.”

You held out your shaking arm to your lover, expecting her to inspect the area. Instead, she took out her pocket knife and pressed the blade into her hand without any hesitation.

“Ellie! What the fuck?!” You said, trying to stop her hand from bleeding.

“Give me your arm,” she said firmly, a major contrast from before. When you hesitated, her hard gaze met yours. Her eyes softened when she saw the fear in your eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

You gave her your arm and let her rub her blood into the bite.

She took your arm and rubbed the blood into the bite knowing it wouldn’t work.

It wouldn't work on you.

She knew that.

She tried anyway.

As she massaged the blood as deep into the wound as she could get, all she could think about was that she would've been able to save you if they made the cure. Her life would've had meaning, so much meaning. She would've been able to cure you from this. But she was helpless, cursed to watch you suffer.

“Ellie,” you said, putting your hand atop hers to get her to stop and look at you. She could see in your eyes that you just needed to be close to her in that moment. She needed it too, needed to be impossibly closer as to grip into you forever.

She buried her head into your neck and you did the same, holding your breath. For if you breathed, time would pass. If time passed, you'd be gone.

You don't know how long you held each other like that, but it was long enough that your legs nearly collapsed with exhaustion. You were the first to speak.

“I need you to promise me something,” you whispered.

Ellie knew what you were going to say before the words left your mouth.

“No-” she began pulling away from you, but you squeezed her tighter.

“When it starts to happen…when I can feel it, I’m going to take my gun-”

“Stop it-”

“-and I’m going to go outside. You’ll know it's over-”

“-Stop-”

“-when you hear it. Just promise me you won't look.”

“Stop, please,” she begs, tears brimming in her eyes again. She takes a step back from you and turns around.

“Promise me.”

The words get caught in her throat. Her lip trembles. “Okay.”

Outside, rain starts to fall softly, tapping against the rotting wood of the cabin.

She breaks the new silence. “I should've been there. I should've taken my rifle out, anything-”

“El, it's not your fault. Look at me,” you say. She looks at you over her shoulder. You nearly crumble at her red eyes and wet cheeks. “Never blame yourself. You hear me?”

She just squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to all go away.

You walk to her, putting your hands on her shoulders and leaning your forehead against her back. You tried not to look at the bite.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you give me one last good night?”

The soft pattering of the rain against the wood, trickling off the roof and into the ground.

“Please?”

She says nothing, instead turning around and gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bloodied hands find her wet cheeks, noting that the tears haven't stopped.

Ellie wanted to give you everything you wanted and more, and she had sworn she would from the moment she met you. If this was the last thing you ever asked from her, she would give it to you.

But it was so unbelievably hard knowing that this time would be your last.

She pushed you back against the wall, nearly devouring you. The salty mix of your tears and hers slipped into the kiss, but you didn't care. She moved her hand down to cup you where you wanted her.

You bucked your hips into the friction, already needing her. You began to undo your belt, but Ellie’s hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She said, voice gravelly.

“Yes, El,” you said. “I don't know where I’ll be tomorrow, or…what I’ll be,” she let out a shaky breath, “but I know I want to be with you right now.”

She sniffled and nodded, getting on her knees to take your belt off. She threw it to the side, unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down along with your panties. You opened your legs wider for her.

She ran two fingers through your slit before sinking one into your hole, tongue giving kitten licks to your folds.

You could tell that she wasn't going to be as vocal as usual.

You couldn't really blame her.

You whimpered as she added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, filling the air with obscene sounds. She lapped at your cunt, trying her hardest to give you what you want.

“Ellie, don't stop,” you moaned, whimpering when she used her other arm to hold your hips down against the wall. “Almost there.”

You could feel the coil tightening inside if you quickly, your climax coming in record time. You thought for a moment that it was because of how sensitive you were in this moment.

You moaned wantonly and grabbed her hair as you came, her tongue working on your clit and her fingers scissoring you open.

You expected her to stop, but she kept going. In fact, she added a third finger.

You heard her moan into your pussy, looking down to find her grinding into the floor, a wet spot forming on her jeans. She was so messy, your juices coating her face, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, rutting into nothing and moaning into your cunt.

When the fabric of her jeans caught her clit just right, she took her mouth of your pussy, replacing it with her thumb instead, and leaned her forehead against your stomach. You came with her from the sensitivity, both of your moans filling the air, pleading for more.

When she laid you down on a thin blanket from her backpack and undressed both of you, you noted the scared look in her eyes. The way she looked at you, drinking you in, knowing this would be your last time together. Some part of you wished that neither of you knew about the bite, that you didn't have to treat this so differently. That you could enjoy it. Enjoy your last moments together.

She threw her leg over yours, kissing you messily, yet softly, as she ground into you, folds slotting against each other. You both moaned each time your clits touched.

As she grew closer to her climax, she buried her face into your neck. You tried to ignore the feeling of her tears trickling down and pooling at your nape.

You came together. You moaned, but she cried out, more guttural than you'd ever heard from her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you—!” she cried into your neck as she came.

When you slowed down, she held you like that without words.

“I love you too, Ellie,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the rain.

You held each other as the sun set, through the night, and through the rain.

The golden rays of the sun shone through the cracks in the walls and shudders, dancing across her bare body pressed into your side. Hours ago, her body had stopped shaking and her tears stopped spilling onto your chest, your hands running patterns across her skin lulling her into an exhausted sleep.

Your eyes had never closed, however. You knew you wanted to be awake to feel it happening, to know when you were losing control over your body. For Ellie’s sake.

The rain had stopped and the clouds were cleared. Birds sang outside and all the animals went about their day. You thought it strange that the world would continue on without you, that people will age and new ones will be born, that people will die and people will forget about you in time. Your impermanence had never struck you as hard as it did now.

You felt the twitching in your feet first, unnoticeable at first, but is it crawled up your limbs, you knew it was happening. It happened over three or four hours, and once you felt your neck jerk the first time, you knew.

Your blood didn't feel like your own anymore, like someone exsanguinated it and replaced it with jelly, slowing you down. Your vision wasn't gone, but you couldn't focus it on anything. It constantly sounded like you were underwater, drowning, gasping for air to no avail.

Your eyes hardly left the woman in your arms, clinging to you even in sleep. You know she'd curse herself for falling asleep, but you were thankful for it. You were thankful that you could press a tearful kiss to her forehead before gently escaping her grasp, muffling your sobs behind your hand. You threw your shirt and jeans on quietly, dizzy, slipping your shoes on. Your world spun, your lungs burned, your head throbbed.

You picked up your pistol, watching Ellie stir slightly in her sleep, creamy skin illuminated in the sun, her freckled face creased slightly with worry, even in sleep. You put the gun in your pocket.

You tried, as silently as you could, to move the barricade from the door. You were thankful that she was a heavy sleeper.

You were thankful that you didn't have to see the despair in her eyes when you said a forceful goodbye, thankful that you didn't have to convince her to let you go, thankful that your last memory of her was this, thankful that her last memory of you was bliss.

Through your sobs, you squeezed through the door and shut it behind you, leaning your head against it, willing for this all to be a nightmare. It wasn't, because you started to feel something else take over your will.

Before you could lose it completely, you forced yourself into a dense brush of greenery, somewhere you hoped she wouldn't look.

You panted, sweating, trembling, as you took the pistol out of your pocket. It shook with your hand as you held it to your temple, bright eyes taking in all of the world that you could before it was gone.

You squeezed them tightly, willing yourself to stop shaking. You conjured the image of your lover in your mind, her auburn hair, milky skin, pretty green eyes, and those familiar freckles. How could you ever forget her?

You took a breath in, and breathed out: “I love you.”

Ellie sat up in terror when she heard the sound of a single gunshot ring through the air, seeping in through the cracks of the window and underneath the door. It took her a moment to process what it was, reaching for her pistol next to her discarded clothes. When her fingertips brushed the gun, it settled in. She craned her head to look beside her, half expecting you to still be asleep.

When she remembered what the sound of the gunshot meant, what you had made her promise, her lungs collapsed and she couldn't take any air in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heaved, clawing at her chest for any relief. It didn't come.

She knew it never would.

When Joel got word that you and Ellie still hadn't returned from patrol, he worried that you'd gotten stuck in the landslide. He pleaded with Tommy and Jesse to go out with him to search, knowing he wouldn't be at peace without knowing what happened.

When the two agreed, they set off on horses to clear all of the checkpoints. It took an extra day to get around the mountain range that was blocked off by rubble.

When they only had one more checkpoint to clear, Joel got increasingly worried. If you weren't here, where were you?

When the three men got to the cabin, they held their breath as they dismounted their horses. Joel tried pushing the door open, but the barricade stopped him. It took the three of them to open the door, pushing the barricade out of the way.

The open door shed light on the figure against the back wall covered in a thin blanket, trembling. Joel let out the breath he was holding in when he saw Ellie. She was clutching your backpack to her chest, trying to keep any remaining part of you alive, hers.

She had hardly noticed Joel pick her up and carry her to his horse, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see the world without you in it.

“Ellie,” Joel’s gruff voice intruded her thoughts, “where is she?”

Ellie’s words failed her. All she could do was point to her forearm, to the bite that only Joel and Tommy knew hid underneath the tattoo.

She doesn't remember what happened after that.

It was warmer now, the flowers blossoming and the green coming back to Jackson’s landscape. Ellie sat facing your headstone, wishing you could've seen it. Wishing she could've shown it to you.

“It’s summer now,” she began. “We started planting these new flowers in your garden…Joel thinks you would've liked them. I think so too. They're really colourful…you know.”

She hesitated.

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or if I’m just talking to myself like a crazy person. Joel says it's good for me. I don't know if I believe him.”

She played with her hands, tracing her tattoo.

“I wish you were still here,” she whispered. Her eyes drifted over all the flowers left by your grave from all the people who loved you.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched a pretty red hummingbird land on your grave, searching for pollen in the flowers.

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader angst #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #lesbian

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tteokdoroki · 9 months

Note

Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed.

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you.

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then.

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him.

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need.

you feel what satoru can’t.

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.”

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist.

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be.

and he’s practically a god.

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped.

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below.

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.”

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.”

that makes satoru falter.

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do.

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you.

he is weak for you.

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start.

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him.

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes.

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips.

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry.

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.”

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.”

“look at me, please.”

“gojo.”

“please.”

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.”

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live.

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore.

you would much rather have him kill you instead.

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deaddovedecadence · 6 months

Note

hello ! I hope you’re well I wanted to ask you if are planning to do something about the platonic batfamily ? Thank you for your work, you’re literally my favorite blog 🥰. (sorry if there are spelling mistakes)

Ah thank you for the question i love it so much! What we’re doing today is breaking down each yandere and how they treat you in order

Alfred: very gentle, very caring. He makes you think that he’s on your side only to betray you if you ever try to run away. His loyalty is to the health and well being of the family and if you left it would nasty for all parties involved. He isn’t overly possessive, and is the most likely to let you out and about (so long as you’re with him or another trusted member of the family)

Bruce: At least you were a tool for making up with his son, but he grew to see you as his own child. You’re younger then Dick so he treats you as such, and is very unlikely to let you out of his grip,/let you out of the house because he’s paranoid. He’s the ultimate possessive yandere, wanting to keep you safe in the house at all times. He’s like this with his children too but because they’re fighters/have proven themselves it’s a lot different

Dick: Good luck with this. Dick sees you as someone who deserves childhood, who deserves to be young, so he treats you younger then you actually are. He’s very possessive, and almost doesn’t realize that you’re capable of taking care of yourself and he’s ver y smothering because of that. He’s the type of yandere to be in his own world and not really see. things as they actually are..

Jason: Caretaker to the fucking MAX. He likes. taking care of people and things that he considers his and you are absolutely one of those things to him. He needs to tak3 of things because it makes him feel real, feel. focused again especially when he’s tired of angry. The least likely to ever hurt you but will break you mentally if he has to.

Cass: does not get it, at first. She doesn’t understand why her family wants something that she perceives as helpless as one of them. Cass is all about getting her shit done and you interfere with that. It isn’t until she sees Jason visibly relax around you and stay in the same room as bruce that she understands. You keep things stable which means that you need to stay. She‘ s obsessively, can be cruel and uses physical punishment like forced dancing or sparring to keep you in check if you leave or deny your place in the family.

Tim: Oh good fuck. Tim is pretty close to yandere in canon, he’s terrifying, possessive of what he thinks is his and cruel as hell. with you he’s cruel cold, only to turn gentle when he deems it the right moment. Tim wants to break you because that means that you won’t run away and try to go and be somewhere else (with someone else). Tim is sadiastic and if he and damian are working together it’s best to go and beg jason for sanctuary from them.

Duke: Honeslty you aren’t sure whether he’s like you or like them at first because Duke is so easy doing, listens to your problems so well and makes. you feel like you’r valid for being angry. It’s all true what he says, it’s just that he also is on his family’s side about you and is slowly working his way into your heart in a way that the others can’t because they’ve never been where you (and he) has. Duke is the gentle yandere unless you really manage to make him angry by getting hurt in any way.

Damian: I wish you the best of luck. Damian is the son of thalia and bruce. His ver y nature is to be possessive over anything that he considers his and you are his. You’re his older sibling in a way that Dick is, someone to be trusted, someone to ask questions too, but that does not mean he’ll let you escape. If anything the thought makes him infuriated and he’s likely to blow up. Damian is obsessive, and sadistic, willing to do anything if it means that you’re safe at home with him.

#yandere #yandere writing prompts #yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere dc #platonic yandere batfam #yandere x gn reader #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #tim drake #batboy tag

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shomixremix · 2 months

Note

Hiii! >~< could you make march 8th head canons (what genshin men do on womens day as ur bf!) fluff! sorry English isn’t my first language but I looove your work! This is my first request I’m so nervous ^_^ !! 🌸🌸🌸

If you have time to do this could you add Kaveh, Xiao , Wanderer and Diluc? Thank you in advance <333

International women's day with them ♡︎

hii anon!! don't be nervous, you can always request anything, lovely ♡︎ thank you sm for your request!!

and english isn't my first language too hehe

also i'm so sorry if this doesn't sound like him, i'm not really used to writing for wanderer😭😭

tags: kaveh, xiao, wanderer, diluc, female!reader, fluff, implied smut (yet nothing described), kissing, international women's day, feministic themes

-> of course, your boyfriend should treat you like a goddess everyday, yet there's that one special day every march where he shows his favorite woman a special kind of treatment.

reqs open ♡︎

-> kaveh

"hi, my love!" your blonde lover chirped as you blinked your eyes open. where were you? what's happening?

"mh.. kaveh?" you ask sleepily, rubbing your eyes while you yawn, still half asleep. you can't even think before a bouquet of sumeru roses is shoved in your face.

"happy 8th of march, baby! flowers for my beautiful flower~" he teased cheesily, and you softly laugh. your arms drape around his neck, bringing him closer.

"you're so corny," you chuckle again, eyelids half-open, "but thank you"

"heh, you still love me" he smiles wide, pressing a warm peck on the tip of your nose. "c'mon now, get up, baby. we're going out today"

your eyes flutter wide open, your mouth a little agape. "out? but, don't you have work? you've spent all week complaining about that client.."

"i can take a day off" he mumbles, kissing you again. "it's been so long since I last took you on a date, anyway. now's the perfect time, hm? so come on, get up! we got a whole day's worth of dates!"

he pulls the covers of your shared bed impatiently, trying to get you to get up as fast as possible. the architect grabs your legs, dragging you out from the soft bed.

"noo, kaveh..", you try to protest, "what kinda guy are you if you don't wanna let me sleep on women's day?!"

"the kinda guy who loves his girlfriend and wants to spend time with her! now, c'mon!"

-> xiao

as an adeptus, xiao has lived long and has seen many things change over the years. one of those things are different holidays and celebrations amongs the mortals.

do not get him wrong - he absolutely agrees that all different genders should have equal rights, why wouldn't they? he's a big supporter, he even participated in marches and fights himself! he just didn't get the whole deal with flowers and chocolates.

weren't those kinds of things reserved for another confusing mortal ritual, called "valentine's day" or something?

however, all that changed once he started dating you. suddenly, he realized that kind of attention was important to you and he wanted to give it to you. he wanted you to feel loved and wanted and seen, no matter how much he didn't understand human customs.

"xiao?" you ask a little stunned as the adeptus appears before you with a Qingxin flower in his hand. "what's.. what's going on?"

"for you", he simply regards, giving you the beautiful flower, "i wish you a very joyous women's freedom day"

"aww, xiao, thank you, you shouldn't have!" you press a soft kiss on his cheek, and you could practically feel him blush.

"i simply wanted to express my gratitude and sympathy for you" he slowly continues, clearing his throat.

"this day is a celebration of the female gender, is it not? it's only right i celebrate the most important important woman in my life"

you simply melt at his words, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. he was the most important man in your life, too.

-> wanderer

"here" he muttered, hiding his face away from you as he shoved some hand-picked flowers in your face.

"what's.. this? are you okay, hon?"

he blushed furiously as the petname rolls of your tounge, getting more and more embaressed by the second. he so badly wanted to yell at you not to call him that, yet he swallowed his words for the ocassion.

"i'm fine" he coldly said, his gaze still away from you.

"and those are flowers. flowers, for you."

"for me?" you repeat back in shock, unsure how to react to your boyfriend's sudden display of affection. he never before did something like this, so your confusion was more than understandable.

"for women's day" his usually cold voice had a slightly embaressed tone in it, which cought you off guard. "and you are a woman, so it was only logical. if you don't want them-"

"no, no!" you protest immediately, taking the flowers from his hand eagerly.

"i love them! they are so beautiful! thank you.."

you softly kiss his cheek, making him blush. he says nothing, yet he silently tangles his fingers with yours, holding your hand as the two of you stroll away.

-> diluc

"diluc? love, aren't you going to angel's share? what are you still doing home?"

you softly ask your fiancé as you decend down the stairs of the dawn winery. you're still in your nightgown, hair a little dishvelled, eyes still a little puffy. he smiles at the image of his beautiful future wife, in disbelief that he was the one to put that shiny ring on your finger.

"no, not today, my dear. i took today off to spend time with you. it is a special ocassion, after all"

"oh? a special ocasion? what are we celebrating?"

he smiles softly, looking at you with pure adoration: "it's women's day, darling. it's only right to spend my day with a woman important to me. and who could be more important than my future wife?"

your eyes lit up in excitement as you make your way down, taking his hand he held out for you. "really? we get the whole day for ourselves?"

"mhm", he hummed in agreement, grabbing you closer.

"well, i have presents first, but yeah. i thought we could go for a walk along the starfell lake... if you're not up for that, you know i don't mind staying home all day"

"presents? you really shouldn't have, diluc.." you softly chuckle in awe as you look around the large living room, noticing the many flowers and a few boxes of what looks like jewelery and sweets.

"what can i say? i love spoiling my future wife"

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highdramas · 1 year

Text

a house in nebraska | j.m.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: language, canon typical sadness, canon typical violence, age gap but it’s not really mentioned, sweet sweet yearning, sexual situations but not explicit (yet hehe)

word count: 4704

summary: by joel’s side, you make your way to the midwest, and find yourself inching closer to a house in nebraska you once called home. you and joel have always been okay keeping your pasts to yourselves, focusing on the now. but a roadtrip stirs up feelings, ones that even you cannot deny any longer.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this is part of the creature comforts series but can be read on its own! house in nebraska in particular is a two part story. this is set 12 years after the outbreak began. joel is 48 and reader is 31.

you still thought about that house.

in most ways, it was rather unassuming. it wasn’t rundown, nor was it like the house that nancy mcnamara had on the other side of town. you remember that first time you had gone to nancy’s house for a birthday party. it was strange to imagine that people lived that way.

no, your house was simple, if not slightly dated. your parents never got around to modernizing it, and you didn’t want them to. it was beautiful in it’s dated nature. it was your home. more than a house. it was a home.

it’s days like today when you think about that house. sometimes you wonder if it’s still standing. oh, what you wouldn’t give to walk up those steps, to run your hand along the railing of the porch. it was a luxury to have these fantasies. that you knew more than anything.

you run your plate over the lukewarm water and you feel joel’s eyes on your back. sometimes, you wonder if he can read your mind. you wonder if maybe he’s harboring this secret power from you that allows him to know your deepest secrets, the history that you hold near and dear to your heart. you don’t know why it is. why it is you don’t tell him. it would be easy to lay all of it down at his feet, to come apart and know that he wasn’t going to judge you or hurt you for it. feelings are a weakness. longing is a weakness. but joel was never going to stab that soft underbelly. you were confident in that.

but you keep it bottled up anyway. you keep him placated with your smiles and the murmurs that everything’s okay, just tired and you know that he sees right through you but you both know that he’s not going to push it. that’s one thing, of many, that you love about joel. he doesn’t push. and in return, neither do you. not hard, anyway.

you dry your hands off and you settle on the couch beside him. you can tell that there’s something on his mind– his eyes don’t give anything away, and maybe he thinks that you’re the mind reader out of the two of them. “talk to me,” you say with that smile of yours that you pull out of the closet only for him, wear it like it’s your finest gown.

he sighs and leans forward, muscled arms against strong knees. he doesn’t meet your gaze. you wish that he would. “i don’t want to tell you because i know exactly what you’re going to say.”

“well, then at least you won’t be hit with any surprises.”

joel looks at you and you already have a wry smile on your face, and he has to fight the urge to match it. “you’re such a shit, you know that?” his humor dies off and he goes back to examining his hands. “gotta head out west.”

you straighten at that. “oh.” confusion riddles you– what is he not saying? “well, where?”

the looks says everything and you’re opening your mouth but he cuts you off before you can get a word out. “no. no. you’re not comin’.”

“if you’re going to nebraska,” you say, your voice perfectly level. “you’re going to have to chain me to the bed in order to get me to stay put.” you rise from your spot and walk towards your bedroom, rustling around to find your backpack. you don’t even know when he’s leaving and you’re preparing yourself.

he knows next to nothing about where you come from. what your story is. it’s not all that special, all things considered– for someone to be alive means that they have had to endure unthinkable hardship to get to that point. but he knows two things: you’re from nebraska, and you never knew what happened to your family.

“joel,” you say, folding a t shirt and laying it flat in your bag. “i’m coming.” when you look at him, there’s something in your eyes that he doesn’t recognize. a whole different you. “you don’t know the things i did to get to boston. so don’t fight me on this. i won’t be a nuisance.”

“i didn’t think you would be,” he steps closer. “i just don’t want you getting your hopes up. that’s all.”

you swallow and you look at him. there’s no fight on his face– you think he probably gave up this fight the second he decided he was going to tell you. after all, he could’ve up and left with a note and nothing more. hell, he didn’t even owe you a note. you weren’t anything. you were friends. you shared something. but beyond that, there was no reason for him to tell you shit. “joel,” you whisper and you step closer to him and you watch the way his throat bobs, the way his lip twitches. “you of all people know that my hope’s gonna have to be pried from my cold, dead hands.”

“i know,” he says quietly. you turn back to your backpack and then he’s behind you and his hands are on your shoulders. things have never been said so explicitly– what you are and what you aren’t, where the lines are drawn. all you know is sometimes he does this; he touches you and it lights you up with a warmth from the inside out. sometimes, you lie in bed beside one another and your foot draws up his calf and his hand smoothes over your waist and tugs you closer to him. sometimes he gives you his ration cards despite your protests. you will wake and he’s long gone but they rest on the dining table. the dining table where his belongings, meager as they are, mingle with yours.

joel cares. joel cares and he knows you more than anyone else could ever fathom it.

you show your care in different ways. once, on an abandoned vehicle in the qz, you found a texas sticker. you had taken dutiful care in the way you peeled it off. you found an old book and ripped a page from the back and laid the sticker down onto it. when you presented it to joel on september 26th, you could see the emotions pass over his face. sorrow and longing and then something else. a sidelong look at you, one that was mostly curious.

“it’s okay to miss it,” you had said then. “that life.”

you’d seen his reactions when others had made mere references of his life before. they were shut down. they were stopped, right then and there. and while you didn’t like to poke the bear… you wanted him to know. wanted to bestow this one thing. there was nothing else to say in that moment, all there was was you and joel and his arm slowly wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. there was his lips against your temple and your fist gripping his flannel shirt. and that was all you needed.

but in this moment with him just behind you, hands beginning to rub into your shoulders, you feel it. that deep chasm of need deep within you, the one that you’ve been ignoring. your hand goes and covers his and you wrap his arm around your chest, kissing the skin of his forearm. strong, steady joel. protective joel. while you’ve laid awake and wondered what it is he felt for you, you never had to question if he would protect you. if he would save you when it all boiled down to it. you squeeze his arm and he squeezes you back, a heavy, reassuring weight. “just let me have some hope, joel.”

and he would.

–

you stop at bill and frank’s to do some trading. you’d heard the stories of their compound, but had never experienced it yourself, and there was a twinge in your heart. what was stopping you? what stopped you from moving in next door, earning your keep, being of service in some way? what stopped you and joel from settling? sitting around the table, music playing and eating a meal that was more than jerky and dried fruits, it was hard to remember your reasoning. why you two played by the rulebook that you did.

you’re admiring the house when frank found you. he gives you a smile and gets in the wine cabinet, pulling another fresh bottle. “astounding, isn’t it?”

turning to him, you remember that he was so warm. warm in a different way than joel. not better or worse. just different. “it’s amazing,” you admit. “almost hard to believe that there was a time where we all lived like this. took it for granted.”

he steps into the spot beside you, following your gaze. “i’m lucky. bill and i– we’re lucky.” he looks at you for a long time. you could feel the imprint of his gaze on your cheek. “how long have you been with joel?”

smiling to yourself, you say, “three years.” you pause, examining a painting on the wall. “feels like it’s been forever. he’s aging me. stealing my youth.” it’s a joke, and you give a crooked grin. “no, he’s… he’s made everything easier. much easier.”

frank hums at that. “i don’t want to pry,” he begins slowly, giving you a sidelong look. “but are you…”

feeling your cheeks grow warm, all you can do is shrug. “i’m not sure,” you admit. “but i don’t need to be sure. he’s my best friend.”

he nods his head, as if this answer makes more sense than anything else that you could’ve said. “well, for what it’s worth–” you both look out the window of the house where joel and bill stand, practically mirroring one another. hands on their hips. staring out at the fence. “bill’s my best friend, too.”

frank touches your shoulder and you smile at him. for some reason, his words are reassuring.

–

you end up staying the night. there’s a guest bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and frank says you’re welcome to anything you need while bill scowls. you shower before joel does– and, to be honest, he doesn’t give you an option in that regard. he puts his hands on your shoulders and he walks you into the bathroom, pushing the fluffy towel into your chest with a smile. “you stink,” he says and he does something that’s almost a wink that makes your heart sing.

so you do. you shower and you lather yourself in all of the fine soaps that frank had prepared for you. you think that joel must’ve told him about your dry skin– lotions of every scent line the counters, and you lather yourself in them post-shower. when you come out smelling like lavender and vanilla, joel’s head shoots up from his book. he stares at you for a long, long time. you shiver under his gaze, shifting in the clothes that frank had given you.

for a moment, you feel like you’re playing house.

joel clears his throat and he stands up, approaching you. his big hand goes to the side of your face and his thumb runs over your cheekbone, drags down to your lip. when you shiver this time, it’s much more noticeable, and you can see something flash behind joel’s eyes.

there are things that the two of you have done together. but never this. close– but never this. you’ve dreamed about what it might be like for his lips to brush yours, but you’ve never had the luxury to linger on it too long. you were both fighting, tooth and nail, for your own survival. the survival of each other, for tess, for tommy. a makeshift family if you’ve ever heard of one. but in this house, where the walls have art and the linens are clean, and you feel fresher and more clear headed than you ever have…

“go. shower.” you squeeze his wrist. “you stink.”

he scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head at you. but when he casts his gaze upon you again, when he nods his head and moves into the bathroom, you feel anticipation like you’ve never felt before.

joel takes less time in the shower than you did. but when he emerges, all wet hair and glistening skin, you have to physically stop yourself from standing. he doesn’t wear a shirt but sweatpants hang low on his hips, and every thought has to be written all over your face. he walks up to you slowly and your grip the duvet, but when he stands before you and nudges your legs apart to stand between them, your grip slackens, he takes your hands and he puts them up on his shoulders where you glide them across his tanned skin, lace them behind his neck.

“i’m going to say this once, because i don’t want to waste our time with it,” joel begins. “and i know– i know i’m not good with my words. i don’t know if i ever will be. and i know i’ve got walls up, i know i’m fucked up–” you open your mouth but he shakes his head. “let me finish. i know i’m fucked up. and i don’t know if i can give you everything that the man twelve years ago would’ve. but i am a selfish man, and i want what i can give to be enough. and i want to try and give you more.” he brushes a piece of your hair back. “if that’s what you want.”

“you’re more than i could ask for,” you reassure. your hands go to his face and your thumbs stroke against his cheeks. “so let’s stop wasting our time with talking about what we both know.”

joel pushes you down against the mattress and you pull yourself up the bed, towards the pillows, and he hovers above you. “can’t remember the last time i was in a bed this nice,” he murmurs, and he’s so handsome above you, you don’t know how you managed without it. you’ve slept side by side, limbs tangled, but this…

“me neither,” your needy hands reach out for him and then his brown eyes are level with yours, a hand splayed beside your head, holding himself up. “i don’t want to waste it. do you?”

the smile he wears would’ve belonged to the joel from before. mischievous, almost, a smile that reaches his eyes. “what ideas did you have?”

you open your mouth but then his lips are closing over your pulse point and it’s been so long, it’s been forever, it’s been a lifetime ago since you’ve had such true and real intimacy. you start to shake and you stammer to try and reply and he pulls away, shaking his head, running his hand through your hair. “i’m gonna take care of you,” he says seriously. “you gonna let me take care of you, nebraska?”

with a shaky laugh you nod your head, but that’s not enough for him. “words. give me your words.”

“yes,” you breathe. “please.”

and joel, your unsung hero, stays good to his word. he’s a passionate person, deep in there, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that he would be a good and passionate lover– but it did. it made you giddy, every touch, every drag of his tongue. but nothing was better than the first kiss.

joel makes sure to take care in tipping your face up to him. there were candlesticks lit around the quaint bedroom, illuminating you in a golden glow, and you’d never felt like an angel before– not even before this world had made you a killer. but under his eyes and in this room, you feel the closest you ever have. “so damn pretty,” he murmurs to himself, shaking his head. “you know that? how pretty you are?”

your foot runs up his leg. “don’t spend much time looking in mirrors anymore.”

“you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he answers for you. one hand goes to the side of your neck and his thumb brushes your pulse and it’s like every single thing in this broken world finally clicks into place with him. and that’s when he does it. that’s when he lowers himself and his lips find yours.

it’s slow. it’s like for the first time since 2003 he has allowed himself to enjoy. he savors you like he savored the meal that bill and frank served you that evening. he drinks you in like their delicious wine, the taste of you better than the heavy red had been on his tongue. a hand slips under your head and caresses, holds you, kisses you like there’s nothing else left to do.

your hands become explorative. across his chest, his stomach, down his spine. he shivers when you hit that sensitive spot just above his tailbone, and it makes you smile against his lips. “like that, huh?” he asks with a laugh. he falls down onto the bed beside you and he tugs you closer, his lips still attached to your jaw. “like knowin’ what you do to me?”

you’re helpless, nodding your head, mind foggy with pleasure. “oh, poor thing,” he coos with another cheeky grin, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb. “i’ll stop bein’ mean.”

“you’re evil,” you say but there’s no bark behind your bite, not when his lips start to move southward, down your chest, pushing up your shirt. your hips begin to raise involuntarily and everything is better than you could ever expect–

the door bursts open. “bill–” joel bellows, rearing back to look at him. you’re not even naked but joel is effortlessly protective, shielding you from his view. but you peek past his arm anyway, and what you see astounds you. bill’s scared. he’s trying to fight it, but you can smell fear like a bloodhound.

“raiders,” bill says and it’s the simplest thing he could’ve said, but it makes you move.

joel is on his feet and you’re tossing him a shirt and he’s tossing you your jacket, you’re moving around each other like you know the exact move the other will make next. and maybe you do. maybe you have memorized the way that he uses his body as a weapon and as a shield.

with guns drawn you help take down raiders. it’s not a fair fight, not with the set up that bill has built and not with you and joel by his side. joel has never had to see you fight. not really, anyway– he’s known of the knife that you keep on you at all times, but bill had tossed you a gun and you knew your way around it and while joel didn’t have time to watch, you could sense it. could feel his eyes lingering for just a moment too long, long enough to risk survival.

and then your gun lowers and your eyes lock and there’s something that passes there, between you.

you don’t know if love is the right way to describe what you feel towards joel. but if it is, then maybe you had just fallen a bit more in love with one another.

–

any mood that existed prior has been shot by the time that you get back into the guest room. with a long, heaving sigh, you start shucking your clothes off. there’s nothing wrong with them– no blood on them, no dirt, no grime, but the mere act of wearing them while you have killed someone makes your skin crawl.

joel exits the room but he returns with two new sets of clothes. he passes one set off to you before he starts changing himself, eyes heavy on one another.

and when you’re both in fresh clothes you inch towards one another and you collapse onto the bed together, and there’s nothing hesitant in the way that he pulls you to him, tugs your body close to his and wrap you up in his dutiful hold until you both drift off into a sleep, one not fueled by pills or booze, but by the safety of one another.

–

bill and frank send you with food (bill begrudgingly, frank happily) and a truck. your end stop is the omaha QZ, outside of which you’ll be meeting with a smuggler who joel has been in contact with since you knew him. but you were a long ways away from nebraska, and it would be many days on the road.

it’s two days in when you find the tape, rustling around through the truck. it was a forgotten thing beneath the passenger seat, and your entire face lights up when you see it. joel glances over at you with a furrowed brow and you lift jeff buckley’s grace. in tandem, you and joel say, “yes.”

mojo pin starts from the top and you find yourself gazing out the window. you prepare yourself for the northeastern beauty to turn into the plains of the midwest, reminding you of a life of before.

you’re crossing into ohio when he asks, “you like this album?”

slowly, you nod your head. “it was all i would listen to,” you say, remembering who you were before. “maybe jeff buckley’s lucky. to have died before all of this started.”

joel stares at you for a long time. “do you really mean that?”

swallowing, you meet his gaze. do you mean it? “no,” you finally say softly. “there are things that i miss. people i miss. but i don’t think i’d be luckier dead.” you huff a laugh and look back out the window. “if i felt that way, it would be a bit silly to live the way i do.”

“and how do you mean?”

“we fight to live,” you say easily. “we fight to survive. we’re not people who want to give up, even if we pretend we are. being alive is having some hope, contrary to what you may believe.”

“never said i didn’t have hope,” joel begins, his voice all gruff.

“joel, please.” you look over at him and you smirk. “i know you. you may fool other people, but you’re not gonna fool me.”

the two of you fall into an easy silence at that point. there’s nothing pointed about what you said to him, and he doesn’t have any fight in him. he doesn’t want to fight with you, he never does. and, besides– despite what he says, he knows that you’re right.

at some point you fall asleep. you wake up to joel’s hand in your hair, his voice slowly coaxing you awake. you wake with a start, snapping up and looking around. “sorry,” you mumble, the last bits of sleep still clinging onto you for dear life. “didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“s’alright,” he mumbles back to you. “would probably good to stop for the night. we can take turns keeping watch.” he smirks. “it’s your turn first.”

you roll your eyes but he turns the car off and reclines his seat and you can’t help but stare at him. how does anyone expect you to be diligent and alert when you get an opportunity to stare at him uninterrupted? when he opens one eye to look at you you lean back and smile at him, shaking your head. “don’t do that,” you murmur, reaching your hand out and touching his hair, somehow soft still despite everything. “get some sleep.”

joel hums. “keep doin’ that,” he says while your hand is working through his hair. “feels good.”

you’re not going to deny joel what feels good. not for one moment.

–

the days pass faster than you were expecting them to. it’s just you and joel and the open road. occasionally you roll down the window and you stick your head out and let the wind rustle your hair, let jeff buckley fill your ears with his beautiful melodies and you pretend like you and joel are two normal people on a normal road trip together. the one thing that you will never be, you pretend you are.

an ominous quiet grows over you when you pass over the nebraska border. when you see that sign.

joel senses it in you instantly. and for a man who says he’s cold, who says he’s fucked up, who says that he doesn’t know if he can be what you need– you don’t feel that when he lays his big hand on your thigh and squeezes. and he doesn’t make a hasty exit with it, either. no, it lingers there. it stays there until your hand goes and lays on top of his, and only then does his hand turn over and he grasps your fingers. laces them with his own, and his thumb draws across the back of your wrist.

when you look over at him, you don’t see a man who’s fucked up. you see a man who’s fighting an eternal, internal battle with himself, to love and let himself be loved. you’ve been there. hell, you’re there now, fighting your own similar battle. but perhaps your armor is weaker, because this touch has melted you down to the bone and made you forget why you wanted to fight in the first place.

the words beg to release from your mouth. i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you so much i’m willing to risk the safety of not loving another soul.

“we’ll go wherever you need,” he speaks up. “and then we’ll go to omaha.”

with a curt nod of your head, you pull the map out of the glove compartment and you scour it. you see your teeny tiny hometown, and you circle it, passing it back to joel.

instantly, you recognize the way that he takes a turn, towards your home. towards your old life.

it’s in the stirred silence that you say, “they call seward the fourth of july city,” you smile a little bit at the memories. memories of fireworks and the smell of a grill and celebrating a patriotism and nationalism that you would resent every day after september 26th, 2003. “my friends and i used to joke about that city part. seward was barely a town, let alone a city.”

joel watches you intently. you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “i lost my virginity on the fourth of july.” there’s something glassy behind your eyes. “one year before the outbreak. i was eighteen– all my friends joked that i was a late bloomer, but i didn’t care. my dad was a preacher and i always got teased because i was the cliche. the rebellious, preacher’s daughter. but that night…” your words drift and you suck in a big breath, watching as dusk overtakes the night ahead of you, casting joel in pretty purple hues. “he wasn’t a bad boy. he was kind. and he took care of me.”

“he was in my senior year english class. i was taking ap lit– didn’t even take the ap test. anyway– he had kind brown eyes, and it was his first time, too. we went into one of the cornfields in his truck after a big fire party. there were always the biggest parties on fourth of july, but i just wanted to be with him.” you pause and look out the windshield and his thumb is still a warm feeling over the pulse of your wrist. “we kept seeing each other that summer. but then i went to college and so did he and… well, the rest happened. i don’t know what happened to him. but i like to believe that he’s somewhere out there and when he starts getting nostalgic, he tells his…” you look at joel. “whoever his you is, and he smiles a little. i just hope that.”

he squeezes your wrist, once more, before he lets go to put both hands on the wheel. he pulls off and you recognize that he’s pulling into the parking lot of a boarded up church, and god if that isn’t hilariously ironic. “thank you,” he says after you’re parked, looking right into your eyes. “i hope that, too.”

hope. what a funny thing.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller x y/n #tlou imagine #tlou fanfic

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florenceafternoon · 5 months

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah

An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"

I recommend you listen to About You while reading this

Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)

Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."

I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab

Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)

Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.

This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.

on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)

Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.

When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love

The Season by @missgryffin

This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."

I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).

A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)

A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."

My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."

chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)

foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)

answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.

The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.

A classic that everyone should read

Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."

One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away

Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.

Trackside by @hogwartslivy

James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.

When my two obsessions meet

it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee

A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.

Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus

Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)

Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."

Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.

See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood

Nom De Plume by @annabtg

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

(Rated E for later chapters)

Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it

victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)

(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."

Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo

Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor

Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."

some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux

Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.

Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."

Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily

The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together

Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97

The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?

Lily and Remus are me

and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders

“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”

Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.

What the summery said

The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.

The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)

Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.

Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)

Jump (For My Love)

Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.

Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.

The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).

The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it

A Game Of Thrones

Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?

Euphemia Potter you will always be famous

flowers

A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."

Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for

If You Knew Who Was Talking

hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.

In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.

If only they knew who was talking.

FOOLS the both of them.

glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya

For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.

everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill

Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."

Is this not the dream?

fastening myself to you with a stitch

Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."

it's all happening without me

Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.

A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.

Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."

Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -

Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful

When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.

So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.

Or so she very dearly hopes…

Tonight Feels Impossible

But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.

To All The Kudos I've Left Before

Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.

James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.

What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."

The title says it all ❤ ❤❤

#jily fic rec #jily #lily evans #james potter #jple

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