#I have the beginnings of a fic in my Google docs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wttcsms · 1 month

Text

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction.

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.”

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary.

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably.

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride.

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in.

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word.

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling.

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.)

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him.

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks.

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—”

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.”

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment.

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.”

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there?

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word.

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full.

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders.

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone.

“Thanks, ‘Samu.”

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.”

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves.

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves.

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him.

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity.

You frown when he approaches you.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend.

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling.

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself.

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even.

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation.

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride.

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.)

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this.

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance.

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019 BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin.

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in.

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists.

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka.

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty.

“He told me he loves me.”

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.”

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her.

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first.

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night.

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home.

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do.

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud.

And rhythmic.

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too.

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then.

There’s someone knocking at your door.

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm?

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop.

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief?

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun.

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window.

This stranger must be a soldier.

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall.

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his.

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long.

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water.

“Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours.

It’s been a rough day.

A rough week.

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know?

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize.

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily.

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan.

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople.

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom.

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own.

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying.

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target.

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body.

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him.

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard.

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this.

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next.

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin.

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that.

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help.

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then.

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope.

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent.

Naoya Zenin is out for blood.

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you.

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches.

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal.

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one?

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in.

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too.

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three.

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom.

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her.

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again.

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.”

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals?

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer.

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back.

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him.

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all.

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words.

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.”

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl.

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run.

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment?

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself.

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up.

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister.

“...helped out Sakura.”

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl.

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“So why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment.

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement.

“She a ring girl?”

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?”

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him.

“You finally did it.”

“Did what?”

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

#atsumu miya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #satoru gojo x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #UGH i hate going thru my drafts #bc im like damn why didn't i finish writing these #anyway lmk ur thoughts. i have to work on comms so no plans to release these this month but perhaps june

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it-happened-one-fic · 3 months

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Sparring Sessions - Silver

Author Notes: So.. this fic is a sort of odd one in a lot of ways. I guess you could say I was inspired by a line from Silver's P.E. uniform where he says something about how he thinks Prefect has talent with a sword. To be honest, this fic has just been sitting in my google docs gathering dust and occasionally getting workshopped for quite some time. I really didn't know what else to post this week, so this one ended up being the lucky fic. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ platonic or romantic

Word count: 1154

I panted slightly. Sliding backwards through the sand but not landing on my butt through sheer willpower and determination. From across the sandy sparring area, found in the shadow of Diasomnia’s dorm, Silver straightened. Ever calm and elegant.

He didn’t look out of breath or the slightest bit worn out, despite the fact that I was struggling to even halfway keep up with his pace.

Why exactly had I agreed to learn swordplay from Silver? Because he’d certainly done a good job of marketing it. Good enough that I almost wanted to tell Azul he should think about hiring the young man if it wouldn’t bring quite so much trouble to Silver’s doorstep.

Nonetheless, Silver’s reasoning had been strong.

Swordplay would be a means by which I could defend myself and would ensure that I was better prepared for the next overblot, whenever and if another occurred. Additionally, I didn’t have magic and was likely to be taken advantage of. Being able to defend myself would lessen that risk too.

Silver had also gotten Sebek on the case, who was more than happy to praise the virtues of learning swordplay. Citing it as a way to strengthen character as well as make me more capable.

All of that, plus a longing for something to do outside of Crowley’s many tasks and homework, had led me to this point. Determinedly sparring with Silver yet again, in an effort to beat him at least once.

Of course, before this point, there had been my lengthy training. Malleus and Lilia had both been delighted when I’d showed up asking to be trained, with Lilia even offering to be the one to teach me.

It hadn’t been very long at all, though, before my prospective teacher had backpedaled out of his offers. And I’d been surprised, until I’d learned that Lilia had done this because Silver had, out of nowhere and to the utter delight of his father, stated that he had been planning on being the one to teach me.

And teach me he had. But Silver was not exactly a kind teacher. He wasn’t cruel by any means; far from it. But he also didn’t take it easy on me. And he pushed me hard.

I’d come here to learn, and learn I would. My safety was dependent on it. But I was thankful for the way he pushed me. He didn’t coddle me, which was what I wanted.

But, that said, it didn't make repetitively losing any more enjoyable.

I huffed slightly as Silver shifted, preparing to launch towards me and continue our little joust the moment it became clear that I wasn’t about to tumble over.

His eyebrows rose at my frustrated expression, his single reaction before he darted forward at what ought to be inhuman speeds. Unfortunately, though, he was simply that fast.

I’d learned that the hard way.

Silver would never use magic against me. After all, he was chivalrous and fair, just a bit air-headed at times. However, that meant he only ever used his own innate, albeit trained, capabilities. Even if they seemed vaguely superhuman.

At the very least, I was beginning to understand exactly why Sebek was so frustrated by his seniors' skills. Even though I knew he’d had to train just as hard as anyone else, Silver’s proficiency was definitely kind of annoying.

I dodged to the side and whirled, launching myself at him. Because I knew perfectly well that this was my only chance to get him down.

His eyes went wide as I collided with him, knocking him off balance and sending us both tumbling towards the hard ground.

And I could hardly believe my luck when his back hit the earth.

He let out a soft grunt just before I landed on top of him, my wooden sword pressing into the ground just next to him. I panted heavily, looking down with slight surprise at the similarly startled young man under me.

As shock wore away, I felt pride set in, and a pleased smile curled across my face, “Ha! I win.”

I couldn’t help but teasingly gloat a little, and Silver’s wide-eyed surprise was soon replaced by a slight smile. And, for a brief moment, I genuinely believed that his smile was one of pride in the fact that his student finally won their first bout.

In reality, though, it was anything but.

His hand curled around my wrist, and, with a sudden shove paired with a yank, I had been flipped over and forced onto my back. My wooden sword rolling pitifully away across the ground.

It was my turn to stare wide-eyed up at the young man who now knelt above me, pale hair hanging around his face as he looked down at me.

To make matters worse, one of his hands securely held my wrists pinned to the ground over my head, while the other held his wooden sword to my neck. There was no getting out of this one.

“Never proclaim your victory until it is sure.” Ever the teacher, even with that frustratingly charming, if small, smile still on his face.

For a brief second, I just stared up at him, shocked. And then I felt frustration well up within me.

I began to thrash around, attempting to break his grip or knock him off me, one. Neither happened, though.

Instead, Silver remained unmoved, looking down at me with that slight smile still playing on his face. His eyes gave away his amusement, though. Beautiful purple yet blue eyes gleaming down at me with barely concealed humor.

Normally such a sight was impossible to see, but I’d been getting better at reading Silver and his subtle expressions. It wasn’t that he didn’t get amusement from things; it was just that he had to keep himself calm or risk suddenly falling asleep.

I at last stopped, breathing heavily from exertion, and he tilted his head, ever-patient and not the slightest bit condescending, as he calmly questioned me, “Done?”

I huffed out a sigh, letting myself flop against the ground and turning my face away so that I was looking across the training area instead of up at him. Even then, though, I could still see him perfectly through my peripheral vision, “I yield.”

He nodded, his smile briefly reappearing as he shifted, got off me, and stood. He held out one hand, which I silently accepted, letting him pull me to my feet with ease.

He picked up my sword and watched silently as I brushed the sand off my gym uniform. I glanced over at him, waiting for him to speak, and he tilted his head, “Next Tuesday?”

The tell-tale glimmer in his eyes said everything, but I found myself grinning back at him because I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying our little sparring sessions, even if he was a beyond frustrating opponent, “You’re on.”

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definitelynotshouting · 4 months

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honey it's starting to storm

Summary:

"Dude, quit squirming!" Scar's laugh starts as a deep, bright rumble in the pit of his stomach, soaring from his throat to punch the air in short, ribboned strokes, each a brilliant star between them. The air here is warm, dazed, an illuminated snow globe— except the globe is his tree, and the snow drifts in downy feathers outside it, forming an intricate latticework of frostbitten fingers that crawl up the sides of his windows. They’d retreated here an hour ago— once their impromptu snowball fight with Doc had transcended from three hermits to thirteen— all shivers and chattering teeth, drenched to the bone. Now, with the fire stoked, sweaters both discarded and exchanged, neither one of them can ignore how the bedraggled wreck of Grian’s feathers are in desperate need of preening. "You're doing this on purpose!" Grian's retort is tart, but it lacks true bite, curling high as a silver wisp of smoke. "Sto— stop it, Scar, stop trying to tickle me—!"

HEY FELLAS WELCOME BACK TO THE SCARIAN TRAIN AND THIS TIME WE HAVE FLUFF!!!!!

Wing preening fluff to be precise >:] just ignore that im posting a winter fic i wrote in December at the beginning of March 😭😭😭 i actually meant this to be a sort of season 9 closer, but in reality this is just the incredibly gay wing preening fic LOL

This fic is primarily based off of THIS lovely art by @isjasz which made me wail so hard when i first saw it that i had to immediately rush to my google docs to write smth abt it. I also mightve snuck in some back kisses on @goldmusicn3rd's suggestion >:]c

As always, likes are lovely, reblogs are even better, and commentary in the tags or on ao3 will be utterly cherished and probably screenshot by me to reread over and over again whenever i need a boost. Thanks so much for reading, and i hope yall enjoy the fic!!!

#scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #desert duo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #hermitblr #mcyt #wing preening #my friends told me this was so gay it made them homophobic /JOKE #actually i rlly did pour the queer heart of the sun into this fic I WORKED HARD OKAY #i cry i sob. them......#anyway for once i bring you fluff >:] this definitely isnt so that the next chap of hunger au hits 20x as hard #shouting speaks #my fics #lnk

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the-apocrypha · 2 months

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DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken.

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime.

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear.

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction.

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part:

The glass is intact.

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?”

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other.

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up.

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down.

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.”

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed.

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill.

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag.

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs.

The hand on his wrist stays him.

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point.

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him.

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden.

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.”

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted.

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.”

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read:

It does not belong to Hob.

WORLD’S

LEAST

PUNCTUAL

WATCHMAKER

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells.

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence.

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel.

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness.

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins.

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes.

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully.

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

#dreamling #my writing #sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #idk if anyone will even care about this #but if you enjoyed it #you're welcome

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hoippu · 10 months

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ZoLu Fanfic Masterlist

(Guide for people who want to avoid anime spoilers)

it's in chronological order of the anime arcs but the first several ones are the AU fics

EDIT: check out the google doc for more updates on the list

Ephemerality by greatduwangs

http://archiveofourown.org/works/37446706

Alternate Universe – Demon AU

Don’t need to be caught up to One Piece tbh but still have a good amount of knowledge on some early introduced characters. If you’ve at least gotten to Baratie I think that’s good enough.

Read Roses Mean Friendship by Aki133

http://archiveofourown.org/works/44277967

Alternate Universe – Flower Shop AU

You don’t have to be caught up to One Piece either.

There’s a few characters here tho that get introduced in the anime in Thriller Bark and in Dressrossa.

Tomatoes, Spanish class and roommates by bunnylover101

http://archiveofourown.org/works/38490631

Alternate Universe – Modern College AU

Unrelated to the main story of One Piece but it contains characters from Dressrossa, post-marineford and I think Water 7.

Eternity would be a Curse (Without You By My Side) by Puppypaws54672

http://archiveofourown.org/works/47262166

Alternate Universe – Gods & Goddesses

No actual spoilers but theres a lot of characters from like the whole series lol

Splendid fanfic

Part 1 of a series

Eternity Had Cursed Me (To Be Without You By My Side) by Puppypaws54672

Part 2 of Eternity would be a Curse (Without You By My Side)

Alternate Universe – Gods & Goddesses, Reincarnation, Modern

No actual spoilers but theres characters from the whole series

The Story of Us by Mugiwat

http://archiveofourown.org/works/48543286

Alternate Universe – Modern AU

No actual spoilers but theres lots of characters again.

Warning: youre gonna hate Law In this fic lmao

catching butterflies by aquietdin

http://archiveofourown.org/works/48133825

(pre-timeskip) Takes place sometime between Skypiea arc but before Long Island arc.

You should also watch the G-8 filler arc because I think it’s referenced, but it’s okay cuz it is honestly the best and only filler arc worth watching.

Ode to an ocean by novks (thychesters)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/46906945

(pre-timeskip) Takes place right before water 7.

Chimes by drcalvin

http://archiveofourown.org/works/451483

(pre-timeskip) Contains spoilers from Water 7/ Post-Enies Lobby.

Takes place after shortly after marineford I think. Maybe wait until the timeskip begins before reading this one just in case.

Unable Are the Loved to Die by BasicallyACat

http://archiveofourown.org/works/24785554

(pre-timeskip) post Enies Lobby

Is a series

You are all I see by Anonymous

http://archiveofourown.org/works/47441071

Alternate Universe – Modern AU

Do not read until you’ve finished Marineford arc

One of my favorites

The Dawn that Rises Bloody by BasicallyACat

http://archiveofourown.org/works/27556822

a sequel to Unable Are the Loved to Die

(post-timeskip) I don’t recall reading this one yet so I cant really say up until where you should watch the anime. But definitely post timeskip

Feelings, what a mess! by drcalvin

http://archiveofourown.org/works/371473.

(post-timeskip) Very early into the timeskip. I’d say you can read when they’re on the way to fishman island.

Heliotrope by LostInClouds

http://archiveofourown.org/works/44929768

(post-timeskip) As long as you reach the timeskip and have made it more or less to when theyre sailing to Fishman Island, you should be fine.

The Things we do for Love by LostInClouds

http://archiveofourown.org/works/46912906

(post-timeskip) It’s recommended that you reach the timeskip for this one too and probably before fishman island is also good enough.

Of First Mates and Duty by Whatev3rs

http://archiveofourown.org/works/40266276

(post-timeskip) takes place in an indefinite point in the timeskip after return to sabaody arc.

Probably my favorite zolu oneshot fr

His Captain, Captivating by jirachi

http://archiveofourown.org/works/48769138

(post-timeskip) Try to read after Wholecake arc or at least Punk Hazard. There aren’t any major spoilers for Wholecake but there’s a new crewmate there that doesn’t join until then.

Kizuna by YokoHogawa

http://archiveofourown.org/works/4452800

(post-timeskip) after fishman island

The Five Times Luffy Kissed Zoro, and the One Time Zoro Kissed Luffy by EclecticIsMyMiddleName

http://archiveofourown.org/works/18994144

This one takes place throughout the story up until the end of Wano arc.

It’s preferable that you’re fully caught up because it’s so good you might wanna binge it.

However if you absolutely must here’s the time period for each chapter:

Chapter 1 (pre-timeskip) right after Arlong Park

Chapter 2 (pre-timeskip) takes place in episode 223 (I think that’s a filler arc but its short and not too bad to watch)

Chapter 3 (pre-timeskip) between Enies Lobby arc and post-Enies Lobby arc episodes 312 and 313 (don’t read the chapter summary cuz it has spoilers)

Chapter 4 (pre-timeskip) At the end of thriller bark episodes 377 and 378

Chapter 5 (post-timeskip) from the beginning of timeskip until Wano

Chapter 6 (post-timeskip) end of wano

#Zolu #luzo #one piece #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3

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sacredthethreadgvf · 1 year

Text

Sunshine On My Shoulders | Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! MINORS DNI! Josh being an asshole sorry, mentions of fearing thunderstorms, smoking the herb, fluff and angst..(if I missed any let me know)

Word Count: 11k+ get cozy friends

A/N: Hello. Hi. It has been SO long since I have had the motivation to sit down and write a fic but I wanted to share this little piece with you all. Who doesn't love a good friends to lovers trope with some spice in the mix? Go easy on me though, like I said it's been a little while since I have posted anything like this and it is so terribly edited…

Huge shoutout to @streamingcolors-gvf and @myfriendtheghost. Without either of you, I don't think this would have made it out of the dusty drafts in my google docs. I appreciate you both so very much.

Enjoy.

******************************************************************

The squeaky wheels of the shopping cart you were pushing were beginning to annoy you. The dull beep of items being scanned tuned out in your ears as a white noise to the god awful rattle of this stupid cart you had. How did you always manage to get the one cart with the broken wheel every time you went to the store? You hate grocery shopping. Too much noise, too many people all scrambling around to load up carts with fresh produce and frozen dinners for their families, and the gaudy white lights, ugh! You figured since you loved people watching so much you would enjoy being nosey and stare into people's carts to see what they had, I mean you may have missed something good back in the bakery aisle for all you knew. But you hated being here. You would rather instacart your groceries, or have curbside pick up than to venture into a store if you didn't have to.

But today was a last minute circumstance. A last minute circumstance for your best friend Josh. He had called you in a panic from a hotel room many states away a few days ago informing you that he had re hurt his already busted eardrum, and he had hurt it badly this time. Bad enough that he was coming home sooner than anticipated.He expressed to you over facetime how he felt he was helpless to take care of himself at times and for once, did not want to be left alone. So, he had asked you a favor. Deeming it the biggest favor he would ever ask of you and that he would pay you back at a later date to which you insisted against since it is what friends do for each other. Josh had asked you to come spend a few days with him so he could get settled back in at home. He had requested that you went to pick up some food for him on top of his medications that he needed to take for his ear. He had told you everything over the phone while you stood in your apartment and you tried your best to write everything down while he was rattling off specific ingredients for certain recipes. You had offered to make him his favorite soup for him that he had been complaining he missed so much these last few weeks on the road. He had swore it could cure all pain in an instant and you were determined to make it for him.

You two were going to be staying in the boy's vacation home, a nice little cabin in the hills of Tennessee so he could ‘get away from Jake and his amps’ for a while and immerse himself in nature. You of course happily obliged to his every request. Secretly pining on him for months now, you'd take any chance to spend time with him while he was home.

So this is how you ended up where you currently were, one of your least favorite places on the face of the planet earth. But if it was for him, you'd suck it up any day of the week.

With your car full of grocery bags and a packed duffle bag you began your trek to the hills of Tennessee outside of the bustling city of Nashville that you have been able to call home for the last couple of years. The drive was peaceful. You had made it a few times before after having the pleasure of being invited to a small weekend getaway with the boys and their lovers. Many memories were made in that cabin with your friends.

Pulling down the little dirt road that led to the cabin you weren't sure if you were giddy with excitement or if it was your brain trying its best to cover up your anxiousness. You were going to be spending the next few days with Josh alone. You've never had the chance to spend one on one time without Josh's brothers hanging out nearby or even just other people in general hanging around.

Seeing the cabin coming into view through the trees you saw Josh's Jeep already parked out front. “Hey Siri? Call Josh.” Even with the cabin being tucked away in the woods you were thankful cell service was still decently strong.

The phone rang a few times over the speakers in your car, “Hello?”

“Hey! I have arrived!” You announced as you put your car into park.

“Okay, the front door is unlocked. Need any help?”

“I got it Josh, dont worry about it!” You reached over your front seat to grab your purse and water bottle, preparing yourself to load up your arms with groceries and such.

“Okay, see you soon Sunny.”

Sunny..

Josh had given you the nickname Sunshine shortly after you two met and it had been shortened to Sunny after a while. He had told you that you reminded him of the warm sun on the first day of spring after the weather broke from a cold winter. That you lit up a room so effortlessly when you were around and had the ability to make everyone around you happy. And that's when you knew that you were in trouble. Your heart belonged to him but it felt so unrequited at times. His little touches he would graze over your skin when he thought no one was looking, the winks he would shoot your direction after he made a joke that caused you to laugh wildly, the blush you could swear would paint his cheeks when you would make flirty remarks..

And yet, whenever you felt like the line between friends would be crossed, he would pull away. The touches would become more sparse and you noticed he wouldn't look in your direction as often as he used to. But then he would jump right back in a few days later as if nothing happened. As if his cold behavior was just a minor occurrence. It confused you wildly. So you settled for pining after him and keeping him as close as he could be to you, as friends. As long as he was in your life, you didn't care.

You gathered up the grocery bags along your arms, clearly hurting yourself slightly in the process but you'll be damned if you had to make another trip. Unfortunately for you, you had abandoned your duffel bag back in the car and only realized it as you were pushing the front door of the house open. Josh had been spread out on the couch, writing furiously away in his journal as he had finally been able to put some finishing touches on the lyrics to a new song when he heard you. He saw you through the little archway in between the foyer, kitchen and living room.

“Sunny!” He beamed. “Oh my gosh, hang on, let me help you!”

Your arms were beginning to weaken at the heaviness of the bags but you shook your head wildly as he came bounding towards you.

‘You will do no such thing mister! Go sit back down!”

You tried to pull away from Josh's fingers grasping at the handles of the bags leaving red marks on your arms but didn't succeed as he pulled a few of them away from you.

“Sunny, don't be so stubborn, I feel okay right now!” He smiled widely at you, his dimple making an appearance on his cheek. You tried not to stare as you felt yourself redden in the face. Had you forgotten how he was so cute while he was away? How is it even possible that he came home more attractive..

You walked with him the short distance to the kitchen and after unloading the bags from your arms Josh walked towards you and gave you a side hug. “Thanks again for doing this for me Sunny.”

“Of course.” You smiled up at him.

“Did you hear about the storms that are supposed to happen tonight?” He asked, back turned towards you while you both started unloading the groceries.

“I did, yes! Are you prepared? I heard the wind might be bad and the power will go out because of that.”

Josh stopped and threw a cheeky smile over his shoulder at you. “And who said the power was going to go out?”

“Me! This cabin is in the middle of nowhere, I will give you $100 if the power does not go out.”

“Deal Sunny!” He smirked.

His smirk quickly diminished on his face as he felt a pain radiating through his ear to his jaw, you watched as he winced slightly.

“You okay?” You softly asked.

“Yeah..I mean, no. But it's okay.”

Josh turned his attention back towards the grocery bags and you. You were beating yourself up mentally for not really being able to carry on or start a conversation with him now that you two were alone together. There was easily so much you two could talk about right now. You were trying to rack your brain on whether or not you wanted to ask him about tour so soon because it was such a touchy subject right now. Or even bring up the state of his ear, deciding against that as well as it might add insult to injury. Just as you were about to ask him how his trip home was, Josh broke the silence in the room.

“Chicken broth?”

“Huh?” You responded.

“You got chicken broth?” Josh raised his voice slightly at you causing you to shrink back. Your eyes go wide at his tone of voice.

“I…- Josh..was I not supposed-...” You started rambling. Shocked at how he was speaking to you.

“Why the fuck would you get chicken broth for a vegetarian soup?!” You watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and spun around. Your heart sank and started to quicken in your chest as your brain tried to comprehend how Josh's voice and attitude towards you changed at the flip of a switch. I mean you just got here..

He's never ever used that voice with you before with you and now..your arms began to stiffen at the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins and you started to ramble.

“Josh I- I don't know why I didn't think of-”

“Of course you didn't think. I mean why would that make any sense!” He snapped, still facing away from you in the kitchen.

“I'm sorry. I don't know why I-..”

“Just..-stop..now we can't have the soup. The one thing you knew I was looking forward to for the last few days. You think I can have chicken broth?! Useless..” Josh whispered the last part.

Your heart sank heavy in your chest. You had positively ruined the one thing Josh asked you to do for him. Your head had snapped up to look at him at his last word he chose to mutter out, only to see his eyes wide already looking at you. You felt like the two of you were standing there for hours, neither of you making a move. He watched as your eyes began to fill with tears and your face turned red.

You snatched your keys off the counter just as the first shaky breath of what felt like a panic attack coming on made its way through your chest.

You had to go, you had to get out of this house before he saw you break down. You couldn't let him see you like this.

You hastily slipped on your shoes not caring if you even put them on the correct foot and pushed the front door of the house open making haste to your car in the driveway. All the while you could hear Josh repeatedly calling out your name from behind you trying to stop you. It wasn't until he had successfully grabbed your arm while you were trying to get into the front seat of your car did you stop. By now you had tears spilling down your cheeks and you refused to look directly at him.

“Y/N please, Y/N I'm sorry I didn't mean it-..” He pleaded with you, grip strong on your left arm.

“Josh, please let me go.” you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes causing more tears to rush down your cheeks.

“No,” He paused to wipe a stray tear falling down your cheek. “No, I'm not letting you go. I'm sorry Y/N I didn't mean what I said back there. I need you here, with me, please.”

“But why did you say all that..why did you talk to me like that.” You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N I promise I didn't mean it, I've been irritated with other things and I kind of took it out on you and I shouldn't have. Not that that is a good excuse to say anything like that to you. I-I'm sorry.”

Josh's chest was rapidly rising and falling as he was looking at you. “Please please stay. I didn't mean it.”

You pushed him away from you.

“You don't think I know that!” You yelled at him.

You watched his face turn white as you connected your now bloodshot eyes with his own.

“Josh, you don't think I know half of the shit that you've been going through?! We talk almost every single day! I know how you haven't been feeling good and for crying out loud and I know this set back on tour is a lot to handle.I come here to help you out because you asked me to and because you're my best friend and you yell at me and call me useless right after I walk through your front door? Useless?! Seriously get fucked.” You turned away from him again grabbing your car door handle only for his arm to reach past your shoulder and shove it closed.

“Y/N, please..!”

“Josh, let me fucking GO!”

He held his arm steady against the crease of the car door and you snapped your eyes at his face and glared at him the best you could. You hoped that your piercing glare would get the message across. You watched as he drew his lips together in a tight line and rubbed his nose against his white sleeve before looking back at you. You crossed your arms and continued to glare at him.

Just as he was about to begin speaking to you again you clicked the little red button on your key fob and the car alarm started blaring. You lifted your chin at him in defiance.

You watched as his face dropped, as if you could read his face saying ‘really?’.

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N. Seriously?”

“Yes seriously. Get off my car you fucking criminal.”

“Criminal?” He glared at you.

“Yes criminal! You're holding me hostage!”

He giggled, arm still perched against your car door, alarm still blaring.

“You know there's 3 other doors you can crawl into this vehicle through. I'm not doing anything.” You watched as the corners of his mouth were fighting off a smile, his eyes gave it away though how funny you were to him which only fueled the anger you felt.

“Fuck you Joshua!”

Your anger intensified even more as he laughed out loud. “I'm just saying Sunny! You're more than capable of getting into your vehicle right now!”

“You're so annoying!”

“Oh yeah? What else?” His stupid smirk was beginning to break through your tough barrier without you even realizing it.

“You're an asshole! A prick! The worst person I've positively ever met in my entire life!”

“Wow, Sunny. I never thought I'd see your true colors!” He finally threw a full smile in your direction which quickly fell as he watched your eyes narrow even further at him.

You turned your back to him then. Car alarm still going off.

You heard him sigh. “Y/N? Sunny? I'm sorry I yelled at you and said you were useless. That was totally out of line for me and I don't know why I even said it in the first place because you are the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. I don't think I would be able to survive without you to be honest. I'd probably be stuck on the side of the road somewhere like a lost puppy if it weren't for you keeping me in check and taking such good care of me. Will you please forgive me for the horrid, horrid comment I made in the kitchen? Let me make it up to you.”

You didnt turn back to face him, but you clicked that little red button on your key fob and your car went quiet. You heard him let out a breath behind you. You began tapping your foot against the gravel. Were you really about to forgive this asshole? Probably. I mean he was right that he wouldn't be able to survive without you..and his stupid cute face, his smile and those dimples were your ultimate kryptonite..

“Fine Joshua. I will stay, but understand you have some major, major groveling to do.”

You turned back to face him and Josh whisked you into his arms faster than you could blink.

You felt his arms wrap around you and a hand immediately finding its place on the back of your head holding you tight like you were going to slip away at any moment. Your arms did not reciprocate, only loosely wrapping around his torso as he clung to you like his life depended upon it.

The sadness in your chest had dissipated. Not into comfort, warmth, or happiness. The anger stuck.

“Josh, why would you even say something like that to me in the first place though?” You pulled your head away from his grasp to look at him directly. You could see the remorse still painted clearly across his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth and respond, the sound of tires crunching on gravel cut you both short.

Josh sighed and looked between you and the car that was approaching. “My mom is here.”

He dropped his arms from around you and you watched as he opened your back seat door and grabbed your duffle bag, slinging it over his right shoulder.

“Hey kids!” Karen greeted you both with a wide smile stepping out of her car. “What's up!”

Both you and Josh put up appearances as if, whatever it was, didn't just happen between you two.

“Hey mama!” Josh walked around the front of the car to give his mom a big hug.

“Hey Mrs. Kiszka” You waved at her with a small smile.

“Did you just get here honey? I hope I wasn't interrupting anything.” She shot a wink at Josh, which to his luck, you had missed but his cheeks now sported a light pink color.

“Yeah, I was just helping her unload her things ma.”

“Oh perfect, then you can grab these bags from my car too!” She opened the back seat of her car. “I stopped to pick up some groceries for you since I know you've been on tour for so long, figured I'd help restock the fridge.”

Josh whispered a soft thank you. Neither of you made a move to mention that you had just gone grocery shopping for him not a few hours ago.

“Let me help too Mrs.Kiszka.” You smiled and held an open arm for her to place grocery bags into.

“Thank you sweetheart!”

*****************************************************************

You, Josh and Karen had successfully brought all 6 grocery bags into the house without an issue setting them onto the counter next to where the already more than empty grocery bags from your trip now sat.

“Oh! I didn't realize that you had already done some grocery shopping sweetie!” Karen said, beginning to unload fresh carrots from a brown paper bag.

Josh cleared his throat and glanced across the kitchen island at you, giving you a small smile. “Yeah, Y/N here was generous enough to go for me today. She even picked up my medicine that I needed since I still cannot really drive due to random bouts of vertigo.”

“Ohh how sweet of you Y/N” Karen said. “Thank you for taking such good care of Joshua for me. He always speaks highly of you and I can see why.”

“You're welcome Mrs.Kiszka, of course” You smiled at her sheepishly, your cheeks now sporting a red hue.

You had only met Karen a few times and had a few brief conversations with her. For some reason she made you nervous. I guess that's what happens when you are crushing on somebody's son who loves their mother more than anything. You constantly hope for approval from them.

You were blissfully unaware that Josh was watching your every move. He found it endearing how nervous you got around his mother, how you fidgeted with your fingers and blushed furiously.

“Joshua, stop staring and help me unpack these groceries?” Karen smirked in his direction.

You watched as Josh's face now matched yours in color.

Was he really just staring at you? What the fuck?

You were in the middle of unpacking eggs from the bottom of a brown paper bag when Josh dropped an item onto the floor. “Fuck.” He murmured.

He bent down to pick it up just as you snapped your eyes in his direction. You watched as he locked eyes with you and set the container of vegetable broth back on the counter as Karen was behind you clearing out space in the fridge.

“Joshua Michael, you have moldy fruit in here..”

Josh's eyes snapped behind you to look at his mom while she was scolding him.

You were focused on the container of veggie broth sitting on the kitchen counter now, almost taunting you.

You felt overwhelmed all of a sudden and you hastily finished clearing out the bag in front of you. “I'm going to excuse myself to take a shower if you two don't mind. I feel a little gross after running around all of Nashville today.”

“Of course sweetie!” Karen said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and giving you a light squeeze. You smiled at her and leaned into the side hug. Karen gave the best hugs.

Josh nodded at you. “Upstairs and straight back in the hallway is the bathroom. There should be fresh towels. If they're not out, the third cabinet on the left should have some fresh towels.”

“Thanks.”

Josh gave you a small smile and reached to grab the moldy blueberry container that Karen had begun waving around again.

****************************************************************

The hot water pouring from the shower head felt divine against your sore muscles. You took your time scrubbing, exfoliating, standing underneath the hot stream of water and letting the water cascade down your face or your back. You weren't in a rush to get out of the shower. Not when it felt this good, and not when you were trying to avoid being downstairs again. You were still upset that Josh had even spoken to you in such a way over something as small as Chicken broth. But as you mulled it over in the water some more, you couldn't really believe yourself but you started to empathize with his little outburst due to the recent events and you still felt slightly guilty that you couldn't deliver the one thing he kept bringing up over and over again the last few days. Almost as if the universe had a vendetta against you, you felt the hot water turn lukewarm and then almost ice cold instantly as the water reserve from the hot water tank drained in its entirety.

You let out a groan as you realized your time in the shower had now come to an end unfortunately.

You grabbed the white fluffy towels sitting on the counter next to you and wrapped your body up, trying to warm back up as the water had really put a damper on your skin temp. Thankfully, you had remembered to grab your duffle bag from the bottom of the staircase where Josh had left it before you came upstairs.

Putting on your favorite comfy clothes and taking the time to do your after shower routine, you realized you really couldn't stay upstairs much longer.

Opening the bathroom door, the smell of spices and comfort food filled your senses. It had been a long time since you had a good home cooked meal and your tummy grumbled loud to remind you of such.The frozen dinners and the take out during the week had turned into an often occurrence for you when you were in a pinch. And it felt like you were in a pinch very often these days.

You were about to start descending down the stairs when you caught hushed voices coming from the kitchen.

“...I was so mean to her mama, I really messed up.” You heard Josh plead.

“You know Josh,” You heard Karen hush back. “That girl cares about you. A lot. I can see that very clearly from the few times that I have spent with all of you. You are my son yes but you know I don't sugar coat shit. I am surprised she even stayed.”

“Me too.”

“You will have some making up to do no doubt. But I think you are off to a great start here.”

While you were doing your best to go unnoticed by the two in the kitchen, you hadn't realized the banister you were leaning against at the top of the stairs wasn't the steadiest unfortunately. Just your luck, one of the screws had popped out of the wall that was holding said banister up and rolled quite loudly down the wooden steps until it made it to the bottom of the staircase.

You rushed down after it, beat red in the face. Picking it up you looked up and made eye contact with Josh and Karen who were both trying hard not to laugh.

“Im sooo sorry Josh! I didnt mean to break-..”

Josh held his hand up, “Let me guess, top screw from the banister. That fucking thing will never stay in the wall.” He shook his head and made his way over to you. He touched your elbow as you put the screw into his extended hand and you two held each others gaze for a brief moment before you broke away from his touch.

“Well you two, I am out of here.” Karen said, grabbing her purse from the counter.

“You're not staying for dinner mama?” Josh asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I do have other children, Joshua. Plus, I promised Jacob I would spend the night at his house since Jita is out of town currently. You're in good hands here anyways.” She shot a wink in your direction.

You flushed and watched as her and Josh shared an embrace before she approached you.

“If you need anything honey, my phone number is on the fridge.” She pulled you into her embrace and you two squeezed each other.

“Don't let him get into too much trouble now.” She whispered.

“And you two stay safe! Joshua if anything happens I'm a call away.” She said as she approached the front door.

“Thank you mama!”

“Thanks Mrs.Kiszka”

“You two behave yourselves!” She winked at you both as the front door shut.

“Hi” Josh smiled at you sheepishly.

“Hey.” You responded.

“I made my famous pasta dish if you're hungry.” He gestured behind him.

“I thought I was supposed to be making dinner for you tonight.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you made your way to the barstool directly across from him. “Also, was I in the shower that long?”

He laughed and turned around to spoon contents from the pan on the stove into a white bowl.

“Not terribly long, no. Also, I cannot promise this is the best thing you will ever eat but,” He set a bowl in front of you. “Consider this an apology?”

“Not the best thing? Josh, I thought this was your ‘famous pasta dish’!” You grinned at him.

“Oh shove it!” He matched your smile.

You brought a forkful of the hot contents up to your mouth enjoying the flavors of the sauce and the herbs mixing together in perfect harmony. It was easily one of the best things you have tasted in awhile. “I accept your apology, I think.”

******************************************************************

Not a few hours later you sat with bellies full of pasta, wine and the two of you were now picking at Josh’s version of a desert charcuterie board which consisted of graham crackers, fruit, marshmallows and chocolates that he scoured his cabinets for, minus the blueberries of course.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, John Denver’s voice filling the background. All that happened earlier was forgiven through bouts of shared laughter and talking through shared memories you had made together, and listening to the stories from the tour. The good ones only of course.

The first few notes of Sunshine on my Shoulders began to play through the speakers of the record player.

“Dance with me Sunny?” Josh asked, extending a hand out to you. “I know this is one of your favorite songs.”

You took his hand and watched as he gave you his signature wide smile that was only ever reserved for when he seemed to be truly happy. Josh pulled you softly into his arms, one hand laid on your lower back, the other holding your left hand. Your right arm comfortably lay underneath his left, feeling the strength of his back muscles through his yellow jacket he was sporting. You allowed yourself to truck your head into the crook of his neck, his smell consuming your senses. You could feel his steady heartbeat on the tip of your nose as you two swayed slowly in the kitchen.

If I had a day that I could give you

I'd give to you a day just like today

If I had a song that I could sing for you

I'd sing a song to make you feel this way

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy

Your heart almost stopped in your chest at the sound of him beginning to sing softly along with the lyrics. Only a few hours ago you were mad at him and now those feelings of frustration have been whisked away with the sound of his soft voice.

Fuck you wanted this man so bad. And who knows, maybe he did have feelings for you too. I mean, who else would just wrap someone up, swaying in a kitchen after drinking wine and enjoying a nice meal like that. But then again, you thought of what everyone who was close with Josh would say at dinner parties or late nights out at the bars.

“Josh doesn’t date. Don’t get your hopes up”

“Josh is picky about girls.”

“Josh is good at stringing girls along and breaking their hearts, I’ve seen it! It’s true! He gets close to these girls, takes them on a few dates or has them over and then never talks to them again.”

“He’s not called the heartbreaker for nothing.”

You were no longer focusing on the song or Josh's soft humming, more on the intoxicating feeling of him, the smell of him and the thought that he could rip your heart to shreds in an instant. Everything about Josh invited you in and kept a strong hold on your heart. You felt the pang of sadness course through your heart at the thought that you could probably never have this man in your life the way you wanted. You would never be able to experience the feeling of being swept up in his arms after a long day. The feeling of his lips across your skin. How he looked in the morning all curled up in his bed right here at home.

Your body must have stiffened slightly in Josh's arms and of course he noticed the change immediately.

“Sunny? Everything okay?” He asked, pulling back away from you a bit to look down at your face.

“Huh?” You tried to play it off. “Oh, yeah, yes, I just…have a bit of a headache coming on. Too much wine probably.”

You knew he knew it was a lie, you could see it clear as day on his face. You two each only had maybe 3 glasses and this man has watched you pound tequila sodas and shots and still be able to function almost completely fine. But for some reason he didn’t press you for a further explanation.

“Want some tylenol?” He asked, disconnecting your bodies from one another. His hands rested softly in the bottoms of your elbows.

You shrugged, “Sure. I might head to bed though. These headaches can end up being bad if I don’t get horizontal soon.”

He nodded and gave you a sad smile. “I get it, trust me. Let me grab some water for you too.”

You felt the tension in the room peak at an all time high for the first time tonight as you watched Josh float around his kitchen grabbing a glass, filling it up and emptying two pills into the palm of his hand. You graciously took the items from him.

You watched as Josh began to clean up the items in the kitchen before placing the now empty glass of water into the sink where Josh was currently scrubbing away at a pot.

“Goodnight Josh.” You bumped his shoulder awkwardly.

“Sleep well Sunny.” He bumped yours back.

You wrapped your arms around your torso almost in a protective manner, or almost as if you were cold and began to make your way up the staircase. You stopped at the 4th step and turned around. “Hey Josh?”

A smile spread on your face as you watched just his head poke out from behind the kitchen wall. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For dinner, a-and for letting me stay here with you.”

He gave you a smile, “Of course Y/N. Thank you for staying.”

You nodded and turned back around heading towards the guest room on the opposite side of the hallway from Josh's room. The second the door clicked closed you felt overwhelmed again and tears began to pool in your eyes again.

God, you wanted him bad. You'd give anything.

****************************************************************

You woke up suddenly to a pitch dark room and a thumping heart, completely unsure as to why at first. Maybe a bad dream? Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness around the room and you pulled the blankets up to your chin. You hated to admit it but sometimes being immersed in complete darkness made you unbelievably uncomfortable. Especially when you were in an unfamiliar place.

Which reminded you that you had a salt lamp on when you fell asleep in the room yet it was off. Why would it be off? You definitely didn’t turn it off. Maybe Josh popped in and turned it off while you were asleep?

Suddenly a bright flash filled the room and your heart rate picked up again, immediately anticipating the crash of thunder that followed. Yet you still felt yourself flinch underneath the covers of the warm bed as you felt the thunder shake the wood of the house as if it were easily breakable under immense force. With your senses now heightened you picked up on the sound of the wind howling outside, the sound of the rain picking up against the window pane. You were so lucky that the foot of the bed happened to be just at the edge of the window and right up against the exterior wall.

Another boom of thunder and you were now completely buried underneath the blankets. You never were a huge fan of thunderstorms, particularly at night. With the conclusion that you were probably not going to sleep anytime soon, you reached out of the safety of your blankets and snagged your phone off the bedside table, disconnecting it from the charger as it had no use when the power was out anyways.

12:32 AM.

You sighed and opened up your messages and clicked on your last message bar with Josh.

To Josh:

Hey. Any chance you're awake?

You laid there for a few moments, pulling up the weather app on your phone as the storm continued to pick up intensity outside.

Josh:

Just so happens that I am awake. I am downstairs, care to join?

You threw the covers off of yourself and turned the flashlight on your phone as you opened the bedroom door. You could see at the end of the hallway a soft glow of flickering orange. As you descended the stairs and into the living room you could see Josh clad in nothing but a white t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs practically bouncing around the room with a lighter, lighting different candles in various parts of the room.

“Overkill much?” You huffed a laugh as he jumped at the sound of your voice.

“I would very much like to see where I am going in my house, Sunny.”

Another flash of lightning cut through the orange glow followed by a large boom of thunder once again testing the sturdiness of the house. You had winced from the flash and the sound of the thunder and didn't catch Josh looking at you now from across the room.

“You okay Sunny?”

“Yeah, thunderstorms… aren't really my thing.” You said as you made your way to the couch in the center of the room covered in blankets and pillows that weren't there earlier.

“I was going to come wake you actually, I'm glad you texted me. Figured it might be safer to shack up on the first floor of this house during the storms in case of anything bad happening.” He said as he made his way to the opposite end of the couch mirroring your position.

“You think something bad is going to happen?” You asked softly, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Josh sat up straight quickly grabbing onto your covered foot. “No Sunny, gosh no! We are very safe here! I just wanted you to be downstairs with me so I could keep an eye on you. Especially more so now that I know you don't really like thunderstorms.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“I do feel better being down here with you Josh, thank you.”

“Of course Sunshine, anything for you.”

The shrill sound of an alert coming from both of your cellular devices caused you to jump practically into Josh's lap to which he let out a small giggle and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Its okay Sunny. I can't promise this little piece of technological imprisonment won't ruin your mind but I will do everything in my power to make sure it won't hurt you.” You watched as Josh swiped the notification away on his phone.

“What is the warning for Josh?” You asked in a small voice, heart once again pounding in your chest. You couldn't tell if the rush of adrenaline was from the loud shrill of a government alert or from the feeling of Josh's fingers softly rubbing your shoulder and the feather of his breath across your forehead. Both were most likely a contributing factor.

“Just a thunderstorm warning Sunny. But we will be okay. We have a sturdy shelter we are in right now, we have each other, I stand by my promise that I won't let anything hurt you.” He pulled you further into his lap then. Wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you up until you laid in between his legs facing away from him, his legs lay on either side of your body.

Your heart leapt in your chest again. You were happy you were facing away from him so he couldn't see the deep red blush painted across your cheekbones as he moved your hair from the side of your face and neck to give him room to hang his head on your shoulder without having any barrier between his and your skin. The feeling of his breath through his nose on your neck was causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. The sound of the storm battering the windows and the soft feeling of his lips now grazing the side of your neck ever so slightly. Or you might just be imagining the feeling of his lips against you. Either way, his actions were causing your heart to continue to leap in your chest. He must've noticed because you felt the exhale of his breath come out fast against your pulse point.

“Sunny, like I said, no need to be nervous because of the storm-..”

Yeah, because your heart racing out of your chest was now solely because of the storm.

“I may or may not have a few joints pre rolled for special occasions”

“This is a special occasion? Me being terrified of a storm?”

Josh barked out a laugh against your ear. “Exactly so Y/N.”

“Well, I haven't really smoked in a long time, but why the hell not.” You rolled your eyes.

“That's the spirit!” Josh said, tapping the outside of your thigh to signal you to get up so he can retrieve said joints.

You watched from the comfort of your spot on the couch where Josh was just sitting moments before as he padded across the living room to a bookshelf. You watched him move a few books around before an “Aha!�� sound came from his direction and he turned back to you with a little container. You watched as he waved the little box in the air and shot you a wink.

“Flounder!”

You snorted. “I'm sorry, flounder?”

Josh jumped back onto the couch spot next to you, his thighs pressing up against your calves as you were sitting cross legged facing him, giving you the perfect view of his side profile.

“Yeah Sunny! Flounder! Like, I-found-her. Don't tell me you don't get it!” He sent you a dazzling smile as he was unwrapping the bag containing the joints.

“You're such a goober, oh my god!” You laughed again, pushing your hand against the side of his shaved head.

*******************************************************************

A few minutes later you were now in a slight haze from the joint, feeling more relaxed now than you have since you were rudely awoken by the storm and the pitch black room. You and Josh were silently passing the joint back and forth between you, embracing the soft flickers of candle light together and surprisingly the more you set in, the less and less you were fearful of the rain hitting the windows.

“Sunny?” Josh asked, giggling slightly. “You good?”

You hadn't realized you zoned out and Josh had been holding the joint out to you again and you had failed to notice. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, I was just zoning out I guess.”

Josh giggled again, “No problem.”

You leaned your head back against the couch as you listened to Josh start to softly hum next to you in between puffing on the joint every once in a while.

“Sunny, you greened out or do you want to try and shotgun? The joint is almost gone, no pressure though..” He sounded nervous and his suggestion put you on edge. You knew how intimate shotgunning could be and the thought of being that close to Josh made your head spin.

“I guess I could take one more hit.”

“Atta girl,” Josh said, tapping your knee motioning for you to angle your body towards him. “It won't be that rough anyways, you know.”

You nodded, head spinning and heart beating wildly in your chest as he mirrored your position now.

“So how are we going to-..how do you want to-..how..” You stuttered out.

“Sunny, it's just me, relax, follow my lead.”

You gulped as his hand rested on your knee now. You watched as he brought the joint to his lips and pulled harshly. Causing the end of the joint to burn a bright orange. Quicker than you anticipated his eyes snapped up to your face, nostrils flared and he pulled your chin towards him.His lips now grazed yours ever so slightly, and your breath caught in your throat as you parted your lips slightly. The smoke escaped around the both of you as you had forgotten to inhale, easily intoxicated by the feeling of him being so close to you now. Josh let out a silent giggle, you could feel his plush lips turning up into a smile against yours.

Josh pulled back slightly and smiled at you. “Sunny, you forgot to inhale!”

You blushed furiously looking anywhere but his face, suddenly your hands seemed to be super interesting as your mouth grew dry. You weren't sure if it was from the weed or all the stress you have been through this entire evening. “Yeaaahh..oops?” You let out softly.

Josh giggled wildly. “You're adorable when you get flustered.”

Your eyes snapped to his face now, you watched as he took another inhale of the joint. “Who said I was flustered!”

He smiled as he exhaled and reached forward to knock the ash off the bottom of the joint into the ashtray sitting on the table. He turned back to you immediately after, lips twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“You look so pretty in the candlelight right now..” Josh whispered, his fingertips grazing your cheekbone, his eyes following his fingers.

You're unsure of who officially closed the distance first in your inebriated state of mind but next thing you knew his soft, plush, wet lips were softly pressed against yours. The feeling of his hand buried in your hair was the only thing that you could really focus on in that moment. The joint abandoned between Josh's fingers on his other hand between you, burning away..

Josh's soft, pillowy lips were dragging you into the most intense high you have ever experienced. He tasted sweet and felt even sweeter. The feeling of your lips finally melding together after months and months of pining felt like a drink of cold water on a hot summer's day.

Your bottom lip was briefly captured between his teeth and you felt him slightly nibble and then pull back. A gasp type moan escaped from you and Josh flashed you a dazzling smile before diving right back in. Josh's hand slipped down now from your hair into your lap, giving your thigh a squeeze. His squeeze turned into him desperately grabbing at you trying to pull you closer as your fingers gripped his jaw, tongues fighting each other for dominance.

“Mmmm, come here..” Josh turned away from you quickly to put out the burning joint in the ashtray and like lightning he gripped on your hips bringing you onto his lap, straddling him. His fingertips were now brushing up the hem of your sleep shirt to graze at the skin of your hips as your mouths reconnected again in a fervent fashion. The feeling of his soft, cold fingertips against your delicate skin causing you to momentarily gasp into his mouth and goosebumps fly across your skin. You felt yourself becoming more and more turned on by the moment and he explored your mouth with his. As you gripped onto the back of Josh neck harder, dragging him impossibly closer, his hips rose up and you could clearly feel his hard on pressing against your core causing you to let out the loudest mona of the night in your throat. Josh quickly pulled away from you causing you to panic slightly.

“Fuck Sunny, Im sorry.” he said, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “I'm clearly getting ahead of myself here.”

You grabbed onto his face, forcing him to look you directly in the eyes. “No, no you're not. I want this.” You pecked his lips lightly. “I want you.”

“Fuck.” Josh gasped out and when your mouths met again, it was clear you both were about to cross the boundary between friends and neither of you had a problem with it.

You felt Josh's fingers slowly begin to drag up your sides underneath your shirt. Slow enough that it was frustrating for you. You hastily grabbed onto the bottom of the shirt and tore it off of you causing Josh to giggle. “Slow down Y/N, I want to savor this.”

His eyes turned a darker hue in the candle light as he took in the sight of your chest, finally bare for him. He wasted no time grabbing onto both of your breasts and squeezing the supple flesh together moaning out another ‘fuck’ under his breath. His mouth finally attached itself to one of your nipples, pulling and rolling the sensitive bud in between his lips. You felt his teeth graze against your nipple causing you to throw you head back. He left sloppy kisses across your chest as he moved to give the other one some much needed attention.

“Fucking hell Josh.” You moaned as you felt yourself becoming more and more aroused.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes and a slight smirk on his lips.

That stupid fucking smirk again.

His fingers now grazing your nipples simultaneously as your mouths reconnected again. You felt him begin to pull and tug on your breasts causing you to toss your head back again and he watched you get drunk on the feeling of his hands and now his very, very obvious hard on through his briefs as you had begun grinding yourself along his impressive length once more. his right hand still on your hip encouraging your steady movement.

The feeling of him hard and tucked away between your thin sleep shorts and his thin boxer briefs started driving you mad. Your moans now freely flowing out as you focused on Josh's face watching yours. Your foreheads practically pressing together. Josh let out a soft moan, causing you to clench around nothing.

“That feel good, sweet girl? Are you making a mess of your panties on top of me right now? I bet you are..”

You watched as Josh looked down to where you were dragging yourself lazily along his length, both of his hands now pressed into your hips guiding you along. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes snapped back up to yours.

“Y/N, can I please touch you? You're driving me crazy..”

“Please..” You said, dragging your lips against his right ear, pulling his golden hoop in between your lips and sucking softly.

This must’ve thrown him off the edge because next thing you knew, he was pushing you down on your back and he was leaning over you, finger tips grazing over your clothed core.

A fresh tingling feeling made its way to your lower half as his soft fingers grazed a small path right up your slit to where your covered clit was and all the way back down again. Josh watched your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. He couldn't believe he finally had you in the way he dreamed of but never admitted out loud. So many late nights were spent in the confined spaces of his bunk on the tour bus, fighting the urge to touch himself underneath the covers at the thought of you.

You felt his fingers now dip underneath the seam of your underwear and graze across your wet core. A shameful moan escaped you as you felt his fingers at first slowly graze against the wetness then switch up and apply more pressure, breaking against the dam to truly feel you.

“Oh my fuck, my sweet girl, youre so wet.” Josh let out what sounded like a painful moan.

“A-all for you Josh”

Your head snapped back as his finger came in contact with your swollen clit, swirling around it a few times. Watching how your body reacted to him in complete awe.

He ripped away from you then, causing a pathetic moan to come out of your mouth at the loss of contact. “I need to get these clothes off of you babe. I need to see you, and feel you even more.”

You watched from your spot as Josh pulled his own shirt over his head and then dragged your shorts and underwear down. Your legs clamped shut, suddenly feeling a bout of self consciousness.

“Hey,” Josh whispered. “It's just me Sunny, no need to be shy.”

His fingers tips slowly grazing a path from your ankles up to your knees. You nodded at him when he lifted an eyebrow at you and his hands made the move to part your legs. You watched as his lips parted and his eyes grow wide as he finally saw all of you for the first time.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “Come here.”

Josh moved to kneel down on the floor in front of the couch, dragging your hips as best as he could along the way. You were now sitting up, hips against the edge of the couch as Josh began to trail sloppy kisses up one thigh and down the other.

“Josh” You moaned out breathlessly, diving your fingers into his curls on the top of your head as best you could as he was moving.

He nipped the inside of your knee ever so lightly, “Mmmm, I love hearing you say my name like that.”

“Josh, please..” You tried to drag him up to your core, desperate to feel him against you.

“I can't even begin to tell you how many times I have thought about you like this. In my bunk, in my hotel room shower, in the green rooms..”

You watched as he looked up at you and winked just before finally dragging his tongue along your slit. Your core clenched around nothing at the contact of his warm, wet tongue against you and a moan ripped through your chest as he did it again, only this time he stopped at the top of your clit and sucked lightly.

“Mmmm, you taste so much better than I imagined.”

Your body felt like it was on fire with the pleasure rippling from your core spreading to your toes and your fingertips as he continued this pattern between licking through your folds to your entrance and then dragging up to your clit again. He gave your clit a few soft kisses before diving between your fold again. Moans were freely flowing through your mouth by now and Josh was hanging onto your legs to prevent you from clamping around his head from the pleasure shaking through your body.

You felt as he pulled one of your lower lips into his mouth, sucking sharply before releasing and repeating on the other side. He then turned his focus to your clit sucking sharply there, thrashing his head side to side every now and then.

You were already teetering on the edge of your release, so much so that when you felt Joshs fingers push past your entrance and curl up a few times along with his assault on your clit, your body went aflame with white hot pleasure as you released all over his fingers, clenching wildly.

You couldn't hear your own moans through the contractions of your orgasm but you were pretty sure you were screaming his name.

Josh was still slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you as you were still clenching around him. You felt him kissing the inside of your thighs,alternating between both as he waited for you to come down.

“Holy fuck.” You breathed out, combing your fingers through the curls on the top of his head again. He chuckled against your thigh.

“Yeah?” He asked, looking up at you. “That was the hottest fucking thing ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing.”

You giggled as he stood up in front of you, pulling you to your feet as well, wrapping his arms around your waist to stabilize your shaky legs. “I almost came in my shorts.” he giggled, kissing your forehead.

You took note of how hard and heavy he was pressed against your leg. “Now its your turn.” You winked at him dropping to your knees and pulling his boxers down with you. You watched with wide eyes as his cock sprung forward in front of you. Your eyes widened and your core clenched again as you noted how long and thick he actually was. You looked back up at his face just as he was brushing your hair through his fingers, tugging you up lightly.

“Sunny, as much as I want that, I can't wait anymore, I need to be inside you. Please.” He cast doe eyes down at you, eyebrows furrowed as if he was in pain.

You smiled up at him, just as eager to feel him buried inside of you as you placed a wet kiss against his head watching his stomach muscles shudder.

“Oh Y/N..” He moaned and threw his head back. Just as you were about to repeat your actions, you felt Josh's hands under your arms, yanking you up to your feet again only to be pushed down into the same position you started off with him on the couch in the first place. Your legs hung open wide in anticipation for what was coming next.

Your lips connected once again, hot and heavy as you felt him start to drag himself along your core. Teasing your entrance, then back out and around the rest of your swollen core and then back again just teasing his head in and out of your briefly. Your body felt on fire again. The teasing from the anticipation of feeling him fully buried inside of you making the hars on your head stand at attention and goosebumps littering your skin. The feeling of lust driving you insane.

You pulled away from him, “Josh please please stop teasing me, I need you.”

“As you wish, sweet girl.”

With that, he pushed himself past the threshold of your entrance, slowly stretching you out. He was definitely bigger than those you had been with in the past and the feeling of him pressing against your walls made your eyes flutter shut. Josh let out a gasp as he finally was fully buried inside of you. Your eyes opened back again when he started thrusting inside of you only to see he was already looking down at you with that same pained expression on his face.

“Fuck Y/N, youre amazing. You feel so good.” His head dropped into the crook of your neck and he started placing sloppy kisses from your ear down to your collarbone, adding a few lips nips from his teeth here and there as he began thrusting harder.

You don't think you've ever felt so much pleasure and so full as his thrusts continued to become sharper against your cervix. His trimmed pelvic hair was adding just the right amount of friction to your clit with each thrust you were unsure how much longer you were going to last. His body, his scent, the way he felt was becoming so overwhelming for you. Tears began to prick the corner of your eyes as he leaned back on his knees dragging your hips up and changing the angle of his thrusts to now connect solely with your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, oh my fuck, right there!” You yelled out, hands grasping at the front of his thighs in desperation to stop his hard thrusts.

Josh smirked down at you, his dimple making its appearance on his cheek as he moved one of his hands from your thigh he was gripping onto tightly, to your lower belly and pressing down. Adding to the pressure on your g spot. “Is that it sunny? Is that the spot?”

You chanted out “yes” in time with his thrusts, brain feeling like it was going numb from all the pleasure that was spreading through your body. Just as you felt like you were about to pour over the edge finally, he pulled out and placed your hips down on the couch again.

You immediately pouted and thrashed your head side to side, “No no no come back no please..”

He shushed you immediately and rubbed the outside of your thigh, “Calm down honey, I just want to change positions. Come here.”

You watched him step off the couch and he guided you so you were leaning with your torso pressed up against the back of the couch, resting on your knees. You shook your hips at him trying to entice him to hurry and fill you up again. He giggled at your movements and brushed his hands along your hips down to your ass to spread you apart for him. You weren't sure why you were expecting him to be gentle but he was far from it as he roughly thrusted into you again. The new angle made your head spin immediately, once again you felt the hair on your head stand at attention as the only thing you could truly feel was how big he felt inside of you, his sharp unforgiving thrusts, and his hips snapping against you. “Oh fuck, you love it from behind dont you. Listen to you babe, you're a mess.”

You felt as Josh gathered your hair that was hanging down your back into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you back up against him so you were flush with his chest, his thrusts never fully slowing down. His teeth grazed your ear, “Do me a favor baby, I'm so close. Rub your clit, rub your pretty little clit like I know you do when you’re alone and wet and swollen. Show me how you treat her so nice, she makes you feel so good doesn't she?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him push you back against the couch, one hand still buried in your hair at the nape of your neck and the other grabbing roughly onto your hip as his thrusts became sharper. Your fingers trailed down to give your clit attention like he asked you to and you began rubbing sharp circles around it, making you clench around him.

Josh moaned out behind you, “Such a good girl, listening so well. I'm not going to last long. I need you to cum.” Josh's words sent you over the edge faster than you anticipated. The ball of pleasure snapped again in your core and you were clenching wildly around him. “There it is, there’s my good girl. Cum all over me. Just like that.” He wailed out. You felt as he pulled out of you, spurts of his cum landing on your lower back. Moaning along with him. You both took a moment trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth after such an intense high. Josh made the first move.

“Don't move yet, Sunshine.” He tapped your hip and you felt him move briefly behind you, grabbing a cloth of some sort and wiping his release off of your back. Both of you stood briefly, redressing and giggling amongst yourselves. Once you were both dressed, Josh dragged you down on top of him as he laid back on the couch wrapping you both up in the blankets. You snuggled your nose into the side of his neck as his arm that was wrapped around you was rubbing up and down your arm. Your body felt weak from the recent activities.

“Well that was a good distraction from the storm.” You giggled, tracing shapes softly onto his chest. He laughed wildly. “I guess you could say that Sunny.”

Silence fell amongst you two again and your mind started to wander. What did this mean for the two of you? Did you truly just ruin your friendship? How were you supposed to move forward..Josh noticed you tense up against him and he brushed his lips against your forehead breathing your scent in deeply. “What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You sighed, “I just, I hope nothing is ruined between us Josh. I don't want to lose you in my life.

“Hey, hey..” He pushed himself up so now he was leaning over you, hand grazing your cheekbone. “Nothing is ruined between us. I want you in my life. I want you in my life for as long as you will have me Sunny. If it wasn't blatantly obvious before I hope it is now,” He paused and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips which you gladly reciprocated.

“I want to call you mine, I want to walk into a room with you and show you off, brag about you until people beg me to shut the fuck up.” You giggled at him.

“You truly are the sky, the moon, and the stars. You are wondrous, and I find myself falling in love with you more and more each day. My celestial love. Please let me call you my one and only.”

Instead of answering him with words you pulled him back into you, kissing him as hard as you could.

He giggled against your lips, “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Take it as an absolutely. Josh you have me, all of me.”

“I'm so happy to hear that love.” His fingers grazed against your cheekbone again. “My sweet, sweet Sunshine. You are so beautiful.”

He laid back down pulling you closer than before, tangling his limbs with yours and tucking your head against his chest practically suffocating you. “Lets go to sleep. Hopefully the power will be back on in the morning and I can make you your favorite breakfast.”

You hummed against him and buried your nose into his skin, basking in the scent of his natural musk. He made you feel so safe and wanted. You found your eyelids growing heavy finally.

“Hey Josh?” You mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Shouldn't we blow out the candles before we fall asleep?”

You watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking around the room at all the candles still burning away, “Why did I have to light so fucking many Sunny..”

You two giggled and you watched as he got up and started moving around the room blowing out each candle.

How did you end up here and get so lucky? You're not sure, but you could not wait to see where this went.

****************************************************************

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic of mine :) thanks for sticking around and finishing it. Tell me your thoughts !

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka smut

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dariaslookalike · 2 months

Text

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 11: Teasing and tit Jobs

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

A/N: An update! Lol, this fic has been rotting in my google docs for too long. so i'm procrastinating my uni assignments due tomorrow, and i'm updating here. hope to get chapter 13 out by the end of may but we'll see how that goes lmao

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 12

Word Count: 4.2k

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You’re off the medication, finally.

That’s what your rational brain should have thought when you woke up, and no longer saw the white pills on the bedside table. No more gulping them down, no more harsh cough or aches. You were better.

You’re not thinking that however.

You’re staring at House while he’s sleeping; which is odd, you can admit. Maybe creepy. You don’t admonish yourself, however. How could you? He’s entrancing. You wish you had some paper here, hell, even a napkin or tissue, so you could scrawl and sketch, to have something tangible to look at later.

You feel your heart twist at the notion. You might not wake up next to him again or ever; He might decide that just sex was horrible with you, and he never wants you in his bed again. Or he might have seen the way you looked at him last night, when you were rubbing his leg and easing his pain, and decided it was too much, too soon- decided that he was right at the start, and that there was no way you could ever stop your feelings for him from interfering with just sex .

Was he right? You knew that things had shifted in your heart after sleeping with him. Before, you could sidestep around the topic and push off any feelings as a simple whimsical thought, a school girl’s fantasy, and nothing more. Now, you want to kiss his lips and bite the apple of his cheek and suck his neck and tell him he’s yours and no one else's. Too much, too soon. You couldn’t do that, couldn’t tell him that- because House wasn’t yours. Sure, he seems intent on having more fun with you. But that was it. Just sex . He would never share the way you wanted him, he would never look at you with much else besides lust.

But you don’t have paper, or a napkin, or a tissue. So you lay there, and as you stare at him, in the back of your mind you think this will do. If I can’t have him the way I want him, this will do.

He looks at ease, for once. You know his leg is still bad and that even in his sleep, he’s probably scheming. But there’s no analysing gaze. He’s not staring down at some patient with mistrust and he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he’s not snapping at one of the ducklings. The notch in his brow isn’t so prominent and his mouth is open slightly as he breathes deeply. He’s relaxed, beside you. This will do.

His alarm goes off and you clench your eyes shut.

You hear him shift, fumbling to hit the clock and finally flicking the right button to silence it’s blaring noise. He lays back against the mattress and settles with a sigh. You listen to him breathe and the overwhelming stillness of the room.

“How long have you been awake and watching, newbie?”

You flick open one eye, and he has his arms tucked behind his head as he gazes up to the ceiling. “How’d you know?”

“I felt psychically attacked by you- or should I say ravaged?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Also you snore when you’re sleeping.”

“I do not!”

He smiles at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. You sleep talk too.”

“No! You’re lying.” You swing out an arm, landing a light blow on his chest. He recoils from it with exaggeration and twists himself to face you.

“If it’s any consolation, you only say random things when you’re sleep talking. Like ‘House just like thaaaaa’.” He trails off into a high pitched moan.

You scoff, but bury your flaming face in your hands. You peek out, briefly. “Are you serious?”

He smirks. “Yep. You’re all over me, even in your sleep.” He reaches out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand rests on the side of your face, and his thumb smooths over your cheek. “But don’t worry. I’ll only tell Wilson.”

You laugh, but move swiftly and twist yourself to lean on your forearms and knees. House’s eyes flick between the dangling neckline of his shirt that you’re wearing, where your cleavage is showing, and your arse that you stick in the air.

“You’re not gonna tell Wilson anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” House cocks an eyebrow, flopping onto his back once more. He smirks at you. “What makes you so certain I haven’t already told him everything?”

“Because you were the one who had to stop a blowjob so you wouldn’t be a one pump chump. You can’t act like you didn’t want it just as much as me.”

He tilts his head, and tuts. “Yeah, I can. Last I checked, you were the one screaming- the one who lost the bet.” His smile drips with an overly sweet honey. “You still need to pay up, by the way. I take cash or checks.”

You sit back and his cool eyes track your movements as you sit on your heels. “I want a rematch.”

“Not a chance. I won, fair and square.”

“You won because you didn’t let me suck you off like I wanted.” You say bluntly. “You won because you were able to hulk out and keep me under you.”

His eyes darken at your words, but his lips still tilt up. “I’m a cripple and you’re playing the “you overpowered me” card?”

“No, I’m playing the “you had to top otherwise you would have been a goner” card.”

“Still not happening.”

“Double or nothing.” You clench your jaw. “But this time, I’m in control and you can sit there, and look pretty.”

House bats his eyelashes. “You know I’m the best at that. But trust me, you could tie me up and you’d still be the first one begging.”

You smirk, shifting on your knees slightly. “You wanna bet? Yesterday was a fluke on my part- I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. It was cabin-fever induced touch deprivation.”

He scoffs, sitting up and crossing his arms with a level of self-absorbed-assurance you couldn’t master. But there’s a glint in his eyes. He knows what you’re getting at, but he’s letting himself play right into your hand.

“Tie me up. You won’t win.” He moves, leaning up to whisper in your ear.

You laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder and shoving him back against the bedding. “Let me find your belt first and you won’t be so sure.”

You scooch past him and his hand snakes out, pinching your arse as you stand up from the bed. You shoot him a withering look and he just grins.

When you return, he cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious about the belt. Gonna whip me too?”

You give him a pout dripping with fake sympathy. “Only if you beg.”

You scan the bed with a disapproving eye and he tracks your gaze to the solid headboard. “I can’t really tie you to that. So turn around.”

His eyes flick down you. “Just because we’ve committed the most unholy of sins together doesn’t mean you’re my boss now. Don’t go on a power trip.”

“Ohh, you’re so right, House.” His lips tilt up even though it’s obvious you’re mocking him. You lean forward, ghosting your lips against his in a smile. “Now be good for me, please, and turn over.”

You see him swallow, but he laughs you off and gives in, twisting around. You shuffle closer to him on the bed, and move his hands softly behind him. You loop the belt in on itself and place it around his wrists before tightening it. He hisses slightly when the edge digs into his skin, and you press your palm into his shoulder, spinning him back around.

He sits with his back up to the headboard, arms twisted behind himself. House glowers at you from beneath his brow. “I didn’t think you were serious .”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, and you see him already twitching in his boxers. You smirk. “You just don’t want to admit how much you like it.”

His jaw clenches.

“But,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “If you don’t want this, at any point, tell me. No hard feelings.” You cross your fingers over your heart in a promise.

“I’ve known since I saw you that it would end with one of us tied up.” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows up in an obvious fashion. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

Sitting beside his thigh, you pat it with mocking comfort. “Sure thing.”

He scowls at you but it’s quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when your hands reach out, pulling down his boxers. He’s half hard and you spit on your hands the same way you did last time. The action makes him tense. You reach out ghosting wet fingers across him and House hisses beside you. His attention is torn between your hands and your face. Eventually, you feel him decide to glare at you, and you look at him, a sweet saccharine smile in place.

“You doing alright, House?”

“Not exactly. Feels like you’re trying to tickle my dick.”

You laugh, and the mask of power slips for a moment when you tuck your chin to your chest in a giggle. You look back at him coyly, and his jaw ticks. “‘M sorry. I don’t have to touch you there.”

House opens his mouth to protest when your hand abandons him, but the words are lost when you siddle in close to him and let your fingers dance across his chest. You lean in closer, face next to his and your lips ghost across his cheek. He says nothing, no cocky retorts or snarky remarks to be heard. You kiss his cheek, and trail down to his jaw, your hand making smooth shapes across the plane of his chest, his shoulder, his neck. You tug his shirt up and it stays wrangled up, showing the smattering of hair leading down his lower belly. You plant kiss after kiss on everywhere you can reach, soft and gentle.

You find a spot on his neck and bite it softly before you continue across the smooth column of his throat, leaving wet kisses and marks wherever you can touch. Your other hand sneaks up behind him, entangling itself in his hair. You scratch against his scalp as you bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He’s breathing heavily above you, and you finally abandon your own resistance, and lean closer, skating your lips across his. He leans into the kiss awkwardly, unable to support himself with his hands tied behind him, but he still pushes forward to you. You push him back, chasing after his lips and deepening the kiss. It’s intoxicating and feverish and your hand reaches down, this time firmly grasping his cock. He’s not half hard anymore, instead pulsing against your palm with heat. He gasps into your mouth and you smile against him.

You pull back, setting yourself beside him again.

You pump him with your hand firmly, and he groans, hips bucking softly into your hand. You pull back, and he shoots you a confused look.

You just smirk, staying silent. You pump him again, and pull back once more when he moves. He catches on quickly, hissing. “That is not fair.”

“Says who?” You tilt your head at him.

“Me.” He scoffs, indignantly.

“I don’t listen to crazy, tied up men.” You say, pouting sadly.

“Untie me then. I’ll prove I’m not crazy.”

“Nice try, House.”

You pump him again, and like the quick learner he is, he just grits his teeth and stays still.

“Good job, baby.” You say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his neck. You stroke him again, this time tightening your grip each time you reach his head. You kiss at his neck, pumping him up and down, loosely and then firm in your fist.

He swears beneath his breath softly. Not admitting defeat, but he’s getting there.

You spit down onto your palm, swiping your thumb over his head. You pump him again, and again, your other hand reaching down to softly cup and squeeze his balls.

He rolls his head back, leaning against the headboard with shut eyes. “Fuck, Newbie. The brothel teach you that trick?”

You hand tightens to the point of just-uncomfortable around his cock, and his eyes snap open as he groans. You snicker.

“I’ve had a lot of free time- you’ve got so many pornos in your apartment.”

His eyes snap to yours, and even though he knows that he doesn’t own one porno that could have taught you any of this, his eyes get glossy with the thought. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pump him in your hand, faster, quickening the speed. “You’d be gone for so long and I got so bored.”

He can’t even respond to you, and you let out a breathy, just for show, moan, face scrunching as you keep talking in a breathy tone. You pump him, bouncing on your calves slightly with the movement. “Had to fuck myself in your bed while you were gone. Did it when you were in the lounge room, sleeping on the couch.”

He’s enraptured, mouth open slightly and blue eyes pinned to yours as you continue. “Wasn’t enough. Just kept thinking I should go and wake you up and beg you to help me.”

His throat bobs. “You should have.”

You lean closer, running your mouth along his jaw. He just tilts his head back, giving you better access. “I will be.”

You pump him faster, the sound of his cock fucking into your hand obscene and filling the room.

“Fuck.” He says, voice breathy. “I’m close.”

“Just gotta beg for, House. C’mon, you can use your words.” You mumble against his skin. “I’ll swallow it all.”

Maybe a small part thought that would break his resolve, but he shakes his head and you grin against him.

“No.”

You lean back, smirking at him. “Then you don’t get to cum.”

He glares at you, his nostrils flaring, but he says nothing, fine to be blue balled if it means you don’t win so quickly.

He expects you to stop your movement but you don’t. You keep pumping him, faster, harder, smiling softly at him.

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaky, his hips stuttering into your hand- you won’t punish him for that right now.

“Nothing.” You look at him innocently. “Just don’t cum.”

“Well, sweetheart.” He spits, still managing to sound like he has the power here. “I don’t have the willpower of a buddhist monk, if you keep jerking me off like this I’m going to cum.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly, pumping his cock up and down with your fist.

He glances to your face, confused at what you’re playing at. He won’t understand until it’s too late, and so his gaze rips back down to where your hand is wrapped around him.

“I’m-” He stutters. “Fuck, I’m going to-”

He can’t finish his sentence, as you keep jerking him at a brutal pace, his head lolling back. He groans, throbbing in your palm.

You wretch your hand back at the last second and watch with a grin as his dick falls against his stomach, his cum splattering against his bare stomach. His voice is wrecked as he calls out, swearing. His breath is heavy, shuddering up and down.

His dick is still hard and red, and his eyes fling open, glaring at you as you smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just do , Newbie?”

You cross your finger over your heart. “A magician never tells her secrets.”

He opens his mouth to protest or cuss you out, but falls silent when you reach out and wrap your hand around his still hard cock once more.

“Fuck! Fuck that’s so- fuck.” He groans, shaking his head. He lets out a wrecked sound from the back of his throat as you smear his cock in his own cum, using it to stroke him up and down once more.

He’s oversensitive, but ruined. You look at him, jutting out your bottom lip. “You alright House? D’you want me to jerk you off again?”

He shakes his head and your movements instantly still, but then he nods. “No, yes. Fuck, that just feels so much more .”

Your hands resume their gentle movement as you grin wickedly. “That’s the point.”

You pause, moving to nudge his legs apart and you resettle, kneeling between them. He sighs, relieved when your hand falls from his cock, giving him some reprieve. Instead, you spread your own legs, hand tracing down your soft stomach circle at that spot between your legs. You’re so wet, and you use the slick to run messy circles over your clit. You moan, your other hand falling to his non-injured leg for support. Your fingers dig into the skin as the pressure builds up in your core. He says nothing, and your eyes flick up to his, moaning out his name as you start to shudder. When you make yourself unravel in front of him, he doesn't say anything, but his cock bobs, neglected weeping at the head.

You use your free hand to tug your shirt up, over your head. You spit into your messy palm, and reach up smearing both yourself and him against your breasts.

“C’mon. Untie me.”

Your eyes flick up to his, which are glued to your chest. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You shuffle backwards on the bed, and pat the mattress in front of you. “Move it, House.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a tied up cripple. Did you think that one through?”

You shoot him a look, and he sighs but shuffles closer until he finally lays flat against the mattress, head still propped up by the pile of pillows. You settle between his spread legs, placing a kiss to his thigh. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He scowls. “I got rope burn from my own belt.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You look up at him, doe-eyed. “I’ll make it better.”

Your hand dips down to the apex of your thighs and once more you smear your slick against your chest. You spit into your hand too, and massage your breasts, squeezing them.

You lean down, until you’re positioned perfectly over his cock. It bobs at your attention, and you look up, grinning at House. He still scowls at you, but there’s an excited glint in his eyes.

You nudge his cock between your breast, and move yourself, back and forward. You have to find a good rhythm first, but soon you’re guiding your slick breasts up and down his cock.

“Shit. Fuck, Newbie.” He gasps, and you bat your lashes up at him, quickening your speed. Soft, wet slapping fills the room and you moan quietly.

He groans, cock still overstimulated. You just let drool pool onto your breasts, squeezing them tighter as give him a tit job.

You hear him shuffle against the sheets and you look up once more, still guiding his cock in and out.

He looks like he could murder you, but sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, let me cum.”

You tsk. “You call that begging?”

He groans as you keep fucking him, his own weeping pre-cum making it messier.

“Please, Newbie.” He growls, voice drawing out into a groan. “Please, fuck, make me cum.”

“You lose.” You say softly.

He nods, desperate, cheeks flushed, stomach tensing. He’s close, wrecked after his ruined orgasm. He needs this.

You take pity on him, and still your movements. He whips his head up to look at you, aghast, but he curses when you quickly straddle him, nudging his cock closer to your centre, and sink down on him.

You sigh as he bottoms out, while he groans loudly. He’s big, but with how wet and ready you are, you take him easier this time. He stills nudges up against your cervix, and you feel so full when you sit fully down on him. You don’t have it in you to play him any further, and instead begin bouncing yourself on him. It’s not harsh, but his moans have a desperation in them that coil that feeling in your stomach once more.

“F-fuck.” He gasps, cursing when you angle him deeper. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Or vicodin.” You say, teasing.

He shakes his head, face scrunched up in pleasure. “You. It’s going to be you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe shakily atop him.

“Yeah.” He moans. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”

You lean down, pressing your chest to his, kissing his neck softly. “Mmhmm. Just for you, House.”

“Just for me.” He growls, beneath you. At this angle, his cock nudges against that spongey spot inside you. Not having to ask for permission or be the one to beg, you hold that angle, fucking yourself on him, making his cock hit that spot again and again.

He holds out well, but when you whine against his neck, and your orgasm rolls over you, clenching you against his cock, he lets out a loud groan. He bucks his hips into yours, and you sit back against him as he keeps cumming. He groans, and you feel his cock pulsing in you, throbbing against your walls.

When he finally stops, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest falling and rising rapidly.

“Fuck.” He says.

“Fuck.” You agree, chuckling.

You swing your legs off him, his cum dripping out of you. You don’t care about ruining his sheets, and instead help him sit up, untieing him.

Even with his spend dripping out of you, and your slick smeared against his crotch, when his arms are untied he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer, drawing you into a deep kiss.

You smile against him. “Glad you’re not a sore loser.”

“‘M so glad you are.” He teases, lips tugging up.

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