#actually this was the early morning scribble

[stormysprite]

Being a private instigator sounds fun … like, not an investigator, an instigator. Hand me 10 bucks and I’ll go start smthn for you

[rxmye]

" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: edited, Lucas first fanfic is out !! . . click here to read it !! <3

He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—

He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.

He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.

To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.

However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.

His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.

Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.

The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .

Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.

That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.

Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .

Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.

Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."

Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[feralgoblinqueen]

I’m not the first to write something like this but here’s my spin on shifter!141.

*****

They had spent too long in their bestial forms. Time feels different when the wolf takes over, easier to lose track of and even harder to remember their human lives. By the time one of them remembers the house in the woods and its many acres that still needs a final payment under a fake name it’s too late.

They look on from the tree line, taking note of the changes made by the new owner. A budding flower garden in front of the house, well kept and just starting to show its spring colors. Around back a large vegetable patch was still green, nothing yet ready to harvest. The exterior had a fresh coat of paint and small repairs had been made. A single faded blue truck rumbled up the long and winding driveway. That’s when they first laid eyes upon you.

—————

“Abandoned, Selling As Is” was what the advertisement had read. No one else had wanted the plot of land hours away from civilization. For you, though, it was perfect. Somewhere to start over, to be alone and relearn who you are.

The rooms still held the previous owner’s belongings. Everything had been left untouched as if they just vanished one day. All men, you assumed, just from the sparse decor and the clothes left behind. Military, maybe, from how the beds were made with their sheets tucked into hospital corners. Paranoid loners, possibly even doomsday preppers, was another guess you made after discovering a gun safe hidden behind a false wall under the stairs.

It was almost a game, once a day trying a hand full of combinations to see if any worked. Something mindless to fill an unoccupied moment of time. That’s when you really started going through the papers and books left behind. Looking for any clues at what the code might be. A notepad left on the small hallway table is where you scribbled down all the combinations that hadn’t worked, in a meager attempt to not repeat yourself. A small mystery to add a little life to your loneliness.

At night is when things really come to life this far out into the wilderness. In the early days of owning the property, before you were able to get the satellite internet set up, you’d spend the evenings watching and listening on the back porch. Deer were the most common, using the wide open expanse of a backyard as a place to graze in the evenings. Owls silently swooping down on field mice before retreating to the trees once more. Coyotes, crickets, and night birds made a symphony of nature most nights.

The most exciting were the wolves. You could always hear them howling in the distance, calling to one another. They weren’t like the coyotes that cackled over one another in attempt to sound larger or more numerous than they actually were. These were direct calls and responses. Their vocalizations sounding almost melancholy, as if they were yearning for something that seemed just out of reach.

It was a quiet night when you finally decided to respond to their calls. The evening had been spent making supply lists for your trek into the nearest town in the morning. A large cooler had been thrown into the bed of your truck to store items intended for the refrigerator and deep freezer.

You sat on the tailgate, listening to the night song that seemed to encapsulate the peaceful valley you now owned. A celebratory drink held in one hand and a small, proud smile graces your lips. Your house was starting to feel like a real home and that was definitely worth celebrating.

The wolves that you had grown fond of, yet had never seen, were starting up. Your favorite night song. A melody that you could listen to for hours. One you had listened to for hours.

Four. You could make out four distinct calls at this point. Two were more vocal than others, their tones more playful. One was definitely the pack leader. His call the first and last each night, like a command or an order. And one was rarely heard, usually only short responses and never as loud as the others. But the valley always carried their calls to you, teaching you their voices. They were faceless friends in your solitude.

So you call out into the night. The long howl a poor imitation of theirs, straining your vocal cords.

The night grows still. All goes quiet. As the silence passes for a beat, then another, your smile slowly falters and fades. A pang of disappointment and a small bubble of guilt at interrupting their conversation.

All animals, even fierce predators, could be skittish. You worried that your call had scared them off, ruining your chances of ever spotting them. With a hop you jump off the tailgate, slamming it shut in frustration. Heavy feet stomping all the way onto the porch and inside. You could only hope they hadn’t heard your foolishness and that something else has quieted them.

The night remains silent as you crawl into bed. The night song ending early and sewing sadness into your dreams.

But they had heard you.

Your distinctly human howling calling to a dormant part of their minds. They remembered themselves. They remembered their life in the valley. They remembered the house where their human lives were lived.

And they were coming home.

[vxsellie]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ domestic gf! ellie

summary. random headcannons about living a small, domestic life with ellie as your girlfriend

notes. nothing makes me happier than domesticity so it was only a matter of time before i made smth like this ! also i haven't made any 'headcannon' posts yet so the setup might be ass bc i fr have no idea what im doing ,, to make up for it i made the post super aesthetic & i'm obsessed w it now xx

warnings. some mentions of sex, it's not necessarily smut it's just the act of loving someone intimately & sometimes being super horny !! overall, this is almost pure fluff though i swear ◡̈

𐙚 first and foremost, ellie def prefers a little life over anything huge or extravagant. she'd take a long morning in bed with u over the met gala any day.

𐙚 something about sun rays filing through dusty shudders makes her heart swell.

𐙚 dirty dishes in the sink, wrinkled bed sheets, cluttered countertops, half-finished home decor, crumples papers, miasma from the bathroom trashcan, that one light you both always forget to shut off. she loves it, all of it.

𐙚 but what she loves most about this life of yours is you.

𐙚 waking up in the morning to see your body sprawled across her chest, a stained band tee clinging to you'd body.

𐙚 hearing you hum songs in the shower while she brushes her teeth at the sink.

𐙚 coming up to wrap her arms around your waist while you cook dinner after a long day of irritable coworkers and snobby customers. then, following that, being able to look across the table at you as you complain about your own day, the taste of your burnt cooking on her tongue.

𐙚 going to the grocery store with you early in the morning after waking to find you're out of cereal for breakfast, both of you insisting you'd thought the other agreed to buy it.

𐙚 your lidded eyes squinting as you read the price tag, leaning heavily on the shopping cart. you're both hungry and tired and annoyed, but have no energy to argue, instead opting to ignore your shared frustration and find solace in the other rather than anger.

𐙚 ellie loading the new groceries onto the conveyor belt while you sleepily fumble with your wallet, still smiling and making conversation with the grocer despite everything.

𐙚 then, getting home and being able to eat your newly purchased cereal, your head leaning on her shoulder as you're both curled up on the couch in front of the tv.

𐙚 ellie oftentimes likes to sit at her desk, scribbling little drawings or entries into her journal while you fill your head with your own random hobbies.

𐙚 she drives you crazy when she taps her pencil against the surface of the desk.

𐙚 the two of you have argued over that a few times, actually. you shouting at her for how annoying the repetitive sound is while she tries to explain that she doesn't even realize she's doing it (though, you don't believe that for a second).

𐙚 over time, however, you've learned to just put on your headphones whenever she journals, the habit becoming as natural to you as drumming her pencil is to ellie.

𐙚 whenever either of you are on your period, the other is certain to be synced, both of you hurting and angry and craving random foods you can't remember the names of. that week is either the worst of your lives, spent arguing and fighting and sobbing; or it's the best, spent singing together in the shower and cooking new recipes and laughing together at ellie's unfunny dad jokes.

𐙚 then, following that week, ovulation hits and you're both completely different people.

𐙚 after you just spent days upon days of working through agonizing pain, you're now unable to think of anything aside from ripping the other's clothes off.

𐙚 dinners go uneaten as she eats you out atop the counter instead; rooms go unswept as you pin her against the nearest wall with an animalistic fervor; her drawings go unfinished as she gets distracted by the girl lying naked in your bed, fingers finding other ways to occupy themselves.

𐙚 ellie has seen you in every state.

𐙚 with greasy unkempt hair, unshaved (everywhere), stained clothing you deem to be 'clean enough', dirt under your nails, unbrushed teeth in the morning.

𐙚 but she doesn't care. she'll still run her fingers through your hair, still rub soothing circles into spiky skin, still strip stained clothes off of you just as desperately, still hold your dirtied hands, still kiss you on the mouth without a care in the world.

𐙚 sometimes, ellie will write songs & ask for your opinion on them.

𐙚 of course, you always tell her how good they are and how proud you are of her. but sometimes you mentally cringe at certain lines or wince at a off-key note.

𐙚 but you love her enough to lie to her face with a curt smile.

𐙚 and even more than that, you love seeing her happy and proud of herself. the sight of her toothy grin and twinkling eyes makes it all worth it.

𐙚 plus, eighty percent of the time, her songs are super fucking good and you're stuck by the passion and care she puts into writing them. the gentility in her intricate fabrication of certain notes and pitches makes your heart stutter. the way her entire body work alongside the guitar with such delicacy that you're sure the two have merged into one tangible being.

𐙚 see, ellie is enamored by the simple things you do ⎯ the way you rip a brush through your hair in the mornings, the gentle whistle you do while cooking or cleaning or doing chores, the fact that you seem to be incapable of making the bed in the morning, the way you always leave your shared shampoo uncapped, the pursing of your lips as you try a new recipe you wanted to try & aren't sure whether you like.

𐙚 these are the things she loves most about you. the things that make her excited to live the rest of her life with you, greasy hair and all.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 taglist : @luvsturniolo @zombieegirl

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

[hkkuugu]

tattoo • billie eilish

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

a/n = my first full fic guysss im so sorry if this is bad i haven't written in so longg , hopefully this is good for you guys!!! also please keep in mind this is my first time writing smut so please cut me some slack 💕

summary = in which billie comes home with an innocent surprise , which then takes a completely different turn

warnings = a bit of fluff (i think) , smut!! , fingering , sub!billie (or switch idk) , dom!fem!reader , not proofread!!

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

billie left early in the morning , saying she had an emergency meeting to do , whilst you were in doing things around your shared house.

music blasted to help ease the silence that filled the room , you were washing the dishes , not aware of your surroundings. the front door's lock opening , billie entered looking suspicious as if shes got something going on.

"ive got a surprise for youuu" her voice was heard , sounding all giddy and happy

"oh god what is it now"

"well its a surprise for a reason" she winked , you rolled your eyes jokingly , scared and excited to see what it is

-

hours passed by and you're both getting ready for bed

billie decided to take a shower before sleeping whilst you were doing your skincare

she slipped her shirt off and you noticed something on her back that looked like scribbles , something you've never seen before

"bils what's that on your back?" hint of curiosity lacing your voice

"what do you mean there's nothing there" she played dumb , acting as if there's nothing new at all

"babe did you actually just get a new tattoo"

"maybe i did maybe i didn't" teasing you and still acting dumb

"i love it it looks hot" you stared at the tattoo for a good minute whilst billie was staring at your face through the bathroom mirror , clearly wanting you to do something

wild and crazy thoughts running through your mind , and it was pretty obvious that you were thinking about something , so much so that billie noticed your flushed face

"oh yea? how about instead of staring at it you actually do something"

you forcibly teared your eyes away from the tattoo and looked into her now dark eyes , filled with lust and neediness

you approached her , hungrily, needing to please her so bad

billie breaks eye contact to turn around and face you , tracing every movement you make towards her

as soon as you reach her , she grasps you harshly , slamming her lips onto yours. making out hungrily

your tongue entered her mouth to which she gladly accepts and you both continue making out until she moves to catch her breath

"fuck me." she whispered breathlessly , smirking at your reaction

you reconnected your lips , dragging her to your shared room and pushed her onto the bed. she moaned at how harshly you pushed her. you started kissing down her body , from her jaw to neck and in between her chest.

she sighed, finally relieved at having you touching her but she needed more. way more than you were giving her.

you kissed down her stomach until you reached right above of where she needed you. she moved her hips trying to hint at what she wanted.

you took the hint and silently asked for permission to remove her sweats to which she said yes to. you removed the remaining of the clothes she had on and spread her legs , revealing how wet she was

"is this how you were the entire day?"

"please , please touch me" her whines and pleases were music to your ears. you decided to not tease her today and to please her instead

you touched her core , spreading them with your two fingers. she whimpered quietly as you softly inserted your finger , letting her adjust to the feeling

as soon as she nodded her head letting you know you can move now , you immediately started thrusting your finger in and out , the sounds of her moaning and her pussy was heard filling the room

you inserted another finger , she let out a loud moan and started shaking a bit. you flipped her onto her stomach to see her tattoo

it made you think wild things , wild things that you want to do to her

"faster please"

you increased your pace and added another finger , which totalled up to three fingers

she arched her back , clenching around your digits showing that she's close

"im so close please- plea-" she let out choked moans and started mumbling things , she didn't have the energy to speak out loud

"cum for me baby" you whispered into her ear , giving her permission to cum

and she did. her legs shaking and letting out moans which got louder and louder , you helped her come down from her high. she laid down for a bit , catching her breath

you moved up towards her , placing kisses all over her to show how proud you were of her. you both cuddled up together , none of you guys speaking until you broke the silence

"you okay baby?" you started to get up , to get her cleaned up and all cared for

"yea i am just tired" you smirked at her response knowing that you did good

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

@hkkuugu

[gi4hao]

🗓️ ᡣ𐭩ྀི ˎˊ- anniversary dates with seventeenྀི

hyung line version! (scoups -> woozi)

had a really sunny weekend so please enjoy these sunshine-fueled scenarios!

— seungcheol

turns out your anniversary took place during a vacation together, a week-long holiday near the beach. on the d-day, he refuses to say anything about his plans, no matter how many times you ask, to the point where you end up blindfolded as he leads you to his surprise. when you take the blindfold off, the only thing you can see is a white boat awaiting on the shore. at first you’re scared he might have actually bought the boat, but he ‘only’ rented it for a private dinner. the sun has just started to set and you’re glad to have picked one of your cutest outfits because you just know he’s going to be taking as many pictures of you as he can. you might be admiring the sunset, but he'll be admiring you the whole time.

— jeonghan

he truly racked his brain to find the per-fect date idea. on the day, he keeps you guessing with more than vague hints (like “we talked about doing that one day” as if you didn’t talk about literally doing everything together). but he’s confident in his surprise and rightfully so: at first you think it’s just a regular picnic, which would have been fine on its own, but as more people start to gather around you, you realize that a lantern festival is actually taking place here tonight. together, you scribble your wishes and dreams for the future on your lantern. and you love how he’s not even trying to hide what he’s writing: one thing about jeonghan, he’ll never try to conceal anything about his feelings for you.

— joshua

this one has a proud smirk plastered on his face the entire morning, hinting at a surprise. you get in his car around 9am and drive for about twenty minutes until he stops in front of a fancy looking building. “you know how we always talk about moving to a bigger apartment yet never actually visit anything? well i figured today would be the day…”, he tells you excitedly. and it’s only when the realtor meets you on the street that you realize joshua has actually booked a visit. more than one, in fact: throughout the day, you visit four apartments, walking from one to the other hand in hand, already fantasizing about what life is going to look like for the two of you.

— jun

both having a busy schedule, you recently told jun you missed having a proper dinner together and it’s given him the best idea for your anniversary: a nice dinner together without the practical difficulties of going to a fancy restaurant. when you come back home that evening, you find your place tastefully decorated with various candles, flowers and fairy lights. as for jun, he’s done his hair the way you like it best, dressed in an outfit you love, wearing the same perfume from when you first started dating. with a sheepish smile, he guides you to the balcony where the table is set, revealing the stunning city view from your apartment.

— hoshi

his plan for today is to make you feel as loved as ever, and that requires day-long dedication, starting with mandatory prince.ss treatment all morning. around 11, he tells you it’s “time to go” although you still have no idea what he’s talking about. but a 45 minutes drive later, you can make out the blueish color of the sea in the horizon. with him by your side, you know it won’t be just any beach day: picnic on the sand, a long walk along the shore spent saying “look, it’s us!” when you see two relatively close rocks, and most of all, soaking up the sun together in the water, all while being that clingy couple who cannot stop swooning over each other.

— wonwoo

this morning, wonwoo wakes up particularly early to cook breakfast for the both of you. you’re already awake by the time he’s done, but he looks so adorable trying to balance the tray while opening the door with his foot that you pretend like you’re still asleep. later, he surprises you with a gift which looks… a bit odd. you didn’t really expect a QR code. but you scan it anyways, and then everything starts to make sense: the QR code brings you to a website, a shelter website more specifically. “are we…”, you start, a huge smile already on your lips. “going on a shelter date to get a cat? absolutely”, he replies, glad you’re enjoying his surprise as much as he hoped.

— woozi

to him, this is the perfect day to show how much your relationship means to him, because he fears you might not know it well enough (you do). so he’s got a little something prepared… the first part of his plan is to fake an apology: “i’m really sorry, i completely forgot…”. second part is to say he’ll take you to movies another day, which you accept, still half-upset. and finally, last part is to welcome you home on the d-day, takeout ready on the table but most importantly, with a homemade outdoor cinema right in your backyard. thick mattresses, fluffy pillows and a large white screen facing a brand-new projector, he went all out to make sure you feel as cherished as he always does.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[totheblood]

more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... as always AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

ellie is a complete night owl

like you actually are concerned about when she sleeps

if you have an early morning class together she is always running late

or just doesn't show up so you would have to call her and wake her up

"hey baby, what's up i just woke up"

"ellie, class is about to start."

"oh shit, we have class today?"

she would sit next to you in any class you shared and scribble little doodles over to you

or communicate with you through notes

ellie hates going out in public but she loves going with you to do your errands

you're going grocery shopping? ellie is there

you need to find new shoes? she is there

barnes and noble? she would probably be there before you

she likes to do this thing where she will pick out a book for you and you will pick out a book for her and you will sit in the back and spend your day reading together

sometimes she hates the books you pick out for her

"ugh, another colleen hoover book? i gave you a cool book and you give me colleen fucking hoover?"

"little women is cool?"

"i can't believe you just said that."

if you two are out in public together she likes to pretend that the two of you are a married couple

like for example if you're at the cash register and she brings an item up to you and asks if she could get it

"no ellie, put that back."

she would turn to the cashier and say something like "what the wife says, goes... am i right?"

even when she's not with you and she's out drinking at the bar with dina and jesse she would randomly be like, "the wife's not gonna like this one" and take another shot

or when she buys you lingere that is obviously not for her she would be like, "you know what they say, 'happy wife, happy life'"

ellie is really not a social person either

unless she is a few drinks deep which leads us to... drunk!ellie

drunk ellie is soooooo clingy and sentimental

not that she isn't regularly, she's just way more affectionate when drunk

her usual comments would be like, "you're so lucky i love you so much..." or "you're so cute when you're not patronizing me..."

but her drunk? "i think you're the best thing to have happened to me, please never leave me."

"being in love with you is all that matters to me right now... take your clothes off."

she's always touching you in some way if she's drunk

if she's drunk at dinner and she's next to you, her hand in on your thigh or her head is resting on your shoulder

if she's drunk at a party, her hands are on your waist at all times whether she's dancing with you or talking to others

she just wants to be around you

she also can't sleep without you if she's drunk

you would be trying to put her to bed and she would just grab your wrist and mutter a, "please stay"

ellie always orders something you like so you can pick off of her plate

"you want some, baby? i knew you were going to ask for some anyways."

she's always thinking of you

when she sees little trinkets she's like "aw my girlfriend would love this."

or when she sees someone trip in public she's like "i wish my girlfriend was here, i know she'd die laughing."

ellie reads you books so you can sleep

if she knows you had a particularly rough day she will be like, "you okay, babe? want me to read you something?"

and then your climbing in her bed and resting your head in the crook of her neck as she reads to you

she will send you a picture of any animal she sees on the street

loves getting you things because she loves your reaction to gifts

... the two of you study by getting to take an article of clothing off each time you get something right

let's just say you pass most of your tests

ai audios:

extras:

what the wife says, goes

happy wife happy life

the wife's not gonna like this one

you want some baby?

[slayedpoet]

some random Joost headcanons

i've had a few over the past months so i've decided to compile them into a list, but then the list grew exponentially so i thought that maybe i could share ☺️; they are mostly tooth rotting domestic fluff, with some hints here and there, but nothing too explicit.

(pardon any possible grammar or syntax errors)

[ALSO WARNING RPF UNDER THE CUT for anyone who gets too worked up by it, or the thought of it, please stay fucking clear, thank you bye 😌]

‌he ‌doesn't know how to cook but he's willing to learn if you know how to, though expect it to get messy, like flour on your or his cheeks; he also might try and "eat" the raw batter, which would earn him a few slaps on his hands.

BONUS: finding him sitting on the floor checking cakes and biscuits baking in the oven

he’s a golden retriever mixed with a great dane

like a big dog that is not aware of his size (affectionate)

he’d ‌plop down on you while you’re laying on the couch, and loves laying his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat; you’d put a hand on his scalp and he'd be out like lightning. you'd hear light snoring and he'd have the most peaceful smile plastered all over his face

‌does it even when you're in bed

‌super cuddly, straight up koala style, big or small spoon it doesn't matter as long as he gets his cuddles

‌he'll crack the worst jokes EVER, you're laughing though 😏

‌uses his height to his advantage some times

‌you'd be laying in bed late at night trying to sleep and he'd start speaking in different ways like he sometimes does, the noise box strikes again, and you’d end up laughing with tears in your eyes, "you love me anyway though liefde"

if you go to the beach then prepare to get ABSOLUTELY FUCKING drenched, dog in action again; knows he has to put sunscreen on but he’ll give you hell for it, running around like a toddler and you’d have to force him to sit under the umbrella to put him on him; when you are on your towel drying and tanning he'd just come back from the water and shake himself on top of you like a dog, drenching you, or simply laying on top of you while wet

‌pebbling, and it goes both ways

you love exchanging clothes, specially before he goes on tour: like t-shirts and hoodies; you sometimes like to hide one of your shirts in his suitcase as a surprise

if he has to leave early in the morning for tour he’ll leave little scribbled messages on post-its all over the place for when you wake up

‌pillow fort for movie nights (but even random nights); although he's too tall for it, but if he sits he fits

‌soft™ and warm

absolutely loves ‌scratches, specially behind his ears

BONUS: if you keep it up for enough time he might actually purr

sometimes when he kisses you on the cheek ends up licking all over it

randomly bites your upper arm mid conversation

‌if you try shutting him up by putting a hand on his mouth he'll either bite it, spit on it or lick it

‌loves staring at you (not in a creepy way), just watch you as you do random, domestic stuff, but don't catch him please or he'll blush a nice shade of pink

‌when laying in bed together he sometimes lets his intrusive thoughts win and blows raspberries on your tummy, you’ll try getting him off of you, but he has a strong grip over your midriff so there’s no escaping him (if you to do the same to him he'll screech so loud)

tickling competition that ends with both of you on the ground with short breaths and happy tears streaming down your faces

oh so you’re ‌eating dessert and accidentally have cream around your mouth? he’ll lick it up no worries

‌something something oral fixation ok...

‌a literal menace™ and obnoxious (affectionate)

once he slapped your ‌butt playfully and you ended up running around the whole house chasing him to retaliate

‌he’s very clingy while drunk, cheeks soft pink and slurring dutch words

‌overly excited guy, if you’ve been apart for some time he’d greet you by lifting you up and spinning you around

‌writes you letters and sends you postcards while he’s out on tour, and adds little doodles all around

you’re definitely ‌getting woken up by some different music every day, although it's rare that he wakes up before you (it's the most random stuff ever too)

‌once you catch him doodling you, IT'S THE CUTEST THING EVER, god he's as red as a tomato cause he tried to hide it from you, but then you asked him so nicely and he crumbled so easily

he’s a ‌blushing mess if praised

‌leans into your touch a lot cause he’s a bit touch starved (just a bit yeah…)

‌can, and will, get himself out of situations thanks to his insane puppy eyes

‌tries teaching you Dutch in the most random ways

‌loves LOVES to hear you laugh/make you laugh, so he'll go jester mode some times, specially if you're feeling down and need to be cheered up

‌will go feral if he sees you wearing any of his albino stuff

‌fan of the good old calls, he insists specially during tour or if you've happened to be long distance

CONS: sometimes he calls at ungodly hours, but you'll listen anyway

‌dorkiest of all

‌takes his glasses off when at home, which leads to him having to squint every once in a while, at you and at things; which is like THE CUTEST THING EVER

‌sometimes you get home and he's laying on the sofa with his dogs on top of him in a cuddle pile

‌LISTEN LISTEN MUSEUM DATES he'd be sooo down for it

‌you take Polaroids of each other, some are cute, some well…less 😏

‌cheesy motherfucker named joost klein, specially during the most inopportune moments (more so during THOSE moments), so you’d slap him and roll your eyes at him while blushing and he’d grin like a cat who's got the cream

sleeps on his stomach, probably starfish so he occupies a good ¾ of the bed cause he’s so tall and lanky, and you’ll have no option but to adjust

(btw i forgot one thing: if any of you lovely writers wants to take any of these and put them in fics, go ahead 🙏🥹)

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Before proceeding: Luke's a tad wild one might say. Crazy, possibly. Spooky, mayhaps.

Bestfriend!Luke coming over to your cabin to walk you to dinner. You know this and you know all about his crush. You know all about his fantasies, and his tendency of thievery. You may or may not have left your underwear purposely hanging on the rim of the hamper. You may or may not have moved the hamper closer to the spot that Luke usually sat at while he waited for you to get ready.

When Luke actually made it over you were still in the bathroom so he sat down in his usual seat. Luke continued his conversation with you through the door. His eyes caught on the hamper, more specifically the clothing on the rim. A very small voice in the back of his head said take them. Luke wanted to say he was better than that as a person. However, then he'd be a liar as well as a thief. When you left the bathroom you smiled at the now missing underwear. You didn't tell Luke you knew.

Until a few days later when you realized you rather liked that pair. How would you bring that up to Luke. He'd be so embarrassed you know about his feelings towards you, and the underwear thing too. But alas that was one of your favorite pairs so you bring it up when you're left alone with him.

Luke's laying on his back. You hoped he wouldn't run away with leaves and sticks still stuck to his shirt. You were sat next to Luke, leaning back on your palms as you both sunbathe.

"Oh hey you know that underwear you took?" You ask before looking over at the tree off to the side. You heard Luke quickly sitting up. He started talking but his voice cracked immediately. He cleared his throat and started again.

"um sorry what?" You know Luke's under the impression you had no idea. All things considered you were the mastermind behind it all. You certainly hoped he still had them and hadn't thrown them in a wood chipper while you weren't looking. You weren't going to entertain his I have no idea what you're talking about shtick.

"yeah well I want it back because those are one of my favorites but I'll give you a different pair. Tradesies." You keep your attitude nonchalant so you don't freak him out. Or freak him out less. His open and closes his mouth trying to find his words. When Luke finally finds it all he can force out is a tiny sorry that makes him sound like a kicked puppy.

"Luke, it's fine. I don't mind at all. In all honesty I left them there on purpose." This seems to confuse him even more and all of a sudden he's opening and closing his mouth again. You roll your eyes and move back to watching the trees sway in the wind. You felt him pulling your hand away from the ground. You shifted your weight to your other hand and watched him brush the pebbles off your palm. Luke reached into his pocket and pushed the folded material into your hand. He kept it covered with in case of onlookers but no one was around.

You wrapped your next pair in wrapping paper with a pretty bow on the top and a small note. Scribbled on it was a simple enjoy, love. and your signature at the bottom. You left your early birthday present on his bed just before curfew. The next morning Luke seemed quite cheery and you noticed his hand had a tendency to move back to his pocket. You shared a knowing look as he continued his conversation.

[beeing1alive]

Cute headcanons with Tokyo Revengers boys Pt.3

f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Takemichi (Takemichi Hanagaki); Angry (Souya Kawata), Smiley (Nahoya Kawata); Hakkai (Hakkai Shiba); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)

Mikey's hands are always warm. No matter how warm or cold it is outside, his hands are always the same pleasant temperature. In winter you can always warm your hands on his. However, his hands are also warm in summer, which means that in summer you can just intertwine your little fingers.

Darken usually has to leave the house very early, which means he never really has time to talk to you in the morning. That's why he always sticks a note on the mirror in your bathroom. Every day it says something different, but usually something like: "Have a great day, be safe, I love you -Ken"

Mitsuya organises a photo shoot for the two of you every few months. One of these couple photo shoots, and it's always super fun, especially because he already knows all the photographers. The pictures that come out are always so cute, and he prints out the best of them and puts it in his wallet.

Chifuyu insists on showing and introducing you to every animal in the pet shop. After closing time, he walks through the shop with you hand in hand and enthusiastically shows you all the animals. After a few months, you know every animal by name and its characteristics. He just loves animals, but he loves you more, he just can't help it.

Baji has got it into his head that he wants to learn how to cook. That's why he suggested that you cook something together at least once a week. He would like to pursue this habit but sometimes he just can't make it, but at least one evening is always reserved (if he can't make it, he feels bad and brings you something from out of town)

Takemichi regularly puzzles with you. He just finds it super relaxing, he already enjoys doing puzzles on his own, but it's a thousand times better with you. You usually watch a film or listen to your favourite music on the side. He could spend hours doing it. Just not having to think about anything, with you close to him.

Angry has a playlist with you, which is full of your favourite songs. He always pays attention to what music you listen to and when he sees how much you enjoy a song, he will immediately add it to this playlist. When you listen to music together, he always puts this playlist on and seeing you enjoy every song makes his heart melt.

Smiley introduced you to his brother first. He just cares what Souya thinks of you because he knows that his brother has a much better sense for healthy relationships. His heart skips a beat when he sees Souya talking to you enthusiastically, his face relaxes a little and he nods to him, and even if Souya didn't like you, he would have loved you.

Hakkai always left one thing in your house when he was with you at the beginning of the meeting phase. Whether it was a hoodie or a packet of chewing gum, just to make sure you'd see each other again. He always made it look like it was accidental, but it never was. He just always wanted to see you again sometime.

Kazutora writes you poems. When he goes to class for you, he usually gets so bored that he starts scribbling sweet words for you on a random piece of paper. Sometimes his texts stretch over several sheets of paper, it's just so easy for him to write how he feels about you. Much easier than telling you, he prefers to show it.

Note: I hope you like it and my requests are open. If you want to read the other parts, here is P.t.1 and here is P.t.2 :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[doremimosasol]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 - 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧

Ravenclaw!reader here

Slytherin!reader here

Gryffindor!reader here

warnings: none

word count: 1,2 k

requested

he was never interested in the Hufflepuffs

he saw them as stuck-up people

boring

people pleasers

and he thought they were absolute goody two shoes little did he know about the Hufflepuff parties they kept a secret from the rest of the houses

they were everything he didn’t like

they were also too nice for his liking

but even for their friendly nature, most of them didn’t like Mattheo after all

most of them actually hated him, and held grudges against the boy for whatever reason

no one except his closest friends liked him and the ones who seemingly did, just put on an act

or they just were too scared to go against the son of the Dark Lord

it made him feel extremely powerful, on top of the world

not being liked, not even by the kindest house in the school

except for you

it drove him absolutely insane, he was hated by all except for you?

at first, he even thought it was fake but you were actually being genuine

you always smiled at him when you crossed each other’s paths in the hallways

you voluntarily sat next to him in class when people would rather sit on the other side of the classroom, as far away from him as possible

you never distanced yourself when you two accidentally stood a little too close

you were comfortable around him?

it threw him off completely

ever since first year he tried everything to make you hate him too, like everyone else does

you were that one loose end

that one loose he’d so desperately try to get rid of

he’d throw insults and you’d just laugh it off

he’d make you trip and you’d apologize for walking in his way (really?)

he’d write scribbles on your paper and you’d laugh at the cute gesture

he even once locked you up in a classroom all alone and even then you forgave him

nothing worked, you’d never hate him

you’d never fear him

after 7 years he eventually gave up, as school was almost finished he didn’t see the use anymore

he’d just let you be

let you be kind

that’s where everything went downhill for him though

when he started to let you be, he started to look past his goal of trying to make you dislike him

he actually finally acknowledged your sweet heart, the absolute kindest student in the whole school

no one was like you

he grew a small soft spot for you, and at that moment he knew he had to protect you at all costs

he knew he fucked up by admitting to these feelings to himself but something about it made him feel warm

it melted the cold layer around his heart, which was never meant to be melted

he’d notice all the little things you did

you’d regularly help first years around school

you’d help around in the Three Broomsticks when it was busy on weekends, sacrificing your precious free time

you’d even help Hagrid with his odd creatures

feeding them almost daily; even when it rained, when it was early in the morning, and during dinner

you’d rather spend time with the creatures than eating together with your friends

it wasn’t that you didn’t have any friends though, you were one of the most popular Hufflepuffs

but was it due to your kindness or did people just take advantage of it?

you were too blind to see through people’s acts though

but Mattheo saw how people put on a nice facade in front of you to get something out of you

it was always when they needed something for themselves

you gave and gave and gave but never received anything

when he noticed this he wanted to do anything to make you feel appreciated for all the giving you did

that’s when you frequently started to receive anonymous gifts

you’d find notes in between the pages of your books, just a few kind words

you’d find roses in front of your door, never a bouquet, always one

one single red rose

it kept going for months, never knowing the real sender

it put a smile on you every single day, and Mattheo loved to see you smile

every time he left one of those roses at your door, he made sure to figure out your schedule to pass by you in the hallways and see that smile of yours

because it also made his day every single time

you appreciated the gesture so much

it made you feel all warm and fussy

you dried all the roses he got you and put the leaves in a special box

there was not one you threw away, always keeping them

forever

as the months progressed he started to leave small notes with the roses too, signed as “MR”

you never tried to figure out who it was, liking the mysteriousness of it

though, the initials could obviously only belong to one person

one specific Slytherin

on the day before graduation you finally got more than initials: “Meet me where the earth swallows the sun.”

the Black Lake…

it was the perfect time

the last day of school ever

the last day before graduation, leaving your second home behind after all

he wouldn’t have to explain his actions ever

because after this day he’d leave school behind, which meant also leaving you behind forever

excited but a little skeptical you approached the Black Lake at sunset, seeing the back of a well-known Slytherin boy

the one you could never hate

Mattheo Riddle

he turned around to meet your eyes, with no emotion to reveal his true intentions

he called you closer to him and when you stood in front of him, he put your hair behind your back

not without softly stroking your cheek, making it look accidental

you froze at that moment, completely lost in his warm brown eyes

you wondered how people could hate him when his eyes told a whole story

it was like coming home to a fireplace after a day in the snow

the browns hugging you like the warmth of fresh warm chocolate in your hands

he took something out of his pocket, hiding it in his hand

“Close your eyes”

you didn’t immediately comply, unsure of what his intentions were

“Trust me…”

you closed your eyes and you felt his fingers slightly grazing your neck when you heard a click behind it

he stood behind you, brushing your hair to the side for his lips to meet the back of your neck

the softness staying there for a few seconds

you felt his breath on your ear when he pulled away for a moment, his lips grazing your lobe

“Thank you, y/n…”

the whispering and his deep voice echoing in your ear

just when you decided to open your eyes, the touch disappeared

you turned around and he was gone…

around your neck was now a silver necklace with a beautiful silver rose hanging as a pendant

though you never gave him anything, you finally received something

but to him, you gave him everything…

kindness

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Part 5

Read the previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: None, maybe language?

WC: 3.0k

A/N: this is another chapter to move the plot, but we’re sort of over the Enemies/competitive aspect of the relationship at least for now. However I’m not going to promise that it’s going to be all fluffy and nice from here on out.

It felt silly, all of it did. Being so annoyed with Jessie’s move, to ignoring her for days, hating her existence. All for her to be way too nice to you, to offer her advice, to get thrown out of a game trying to defend you, it was all silly when you thought about it now.

And yet here you were, at a coffee shop early on Tuesday morning ordering two coffees instead of one. One latte, your own, and then a cold brew for Jessie. You weren’t sure it was her go to order but you had seen her carry in a cold brew often enough you felt it would be close enough. And here you were searching your car for a permanent marker that you knew you had, to write a quick thank you on the side of the cup.

You hadn’t really gotten the chance to thank Jessie for standing up for you at the game. You were caught up getting treated, she had to finish her post game recovery, before you knew it she had headed home and you didn’t see her until practice. It was reassuring to know she had your back, she wasn’t a threat, she was your teammate. You wanted to tell her that. You wanted to thank her.

Finding the marker, you quickly scribbled the words ‘thank you’ onto the cup and hopped out of the car, coffees in hand, backpack slung over your shoulder and headed into the building. You had to be here early for the doctor to check on your face. Dropping off your back you place Jessie’s coffee onto the shelf in her cubby and head to the training room. Before you walk away you grab a piece of paper from your bag, an old note page from a meeting.

‘Can we talk sometime, just us?’ You scribble on the paper before putting your name on the note and sticking it under Jessie’s coffee.

Your appointment with the doctor is quick, just checking for infection, making sure you’re healing well.

When you come back out most of the team is here, Jessie has coffee in hand, the note is resting in her lap. You make your way over, sitting down at your own cubby. Jessie lifts her cup in your direction and nods, giving you a quick thanks. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing, sitting at home, why?”

“If you want to talk? I’m free tonight you can come over, we can do dinner.”

Something about being invited to her place puts a small bundle of nerves into your stomach, you wanted to talk, you owed her that, but that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking to actually do it.

“Yeah, thanks, let me know what I can bring.”

Jessie shakes her head at you. “Just yourself.”

You ignored Jessie’s request to just bring yourself, you knew better than to show up empty handed, so you brought flowers and a book, a book you overheard her mention wanting to read but saying she couldn’t find it anywhere. You just so happened to own a copy of said book.

You knocked on the door exactly at the time she had said to come over, early was rude, but so was late.

“Hi.” She smiled at you, giving you a quick glance up and down before moving out of the doorway so you could enter.

“Hey.”

“Come on in.” You follow her inside, taking your shoes off at the mat by the door.

You turn and offer up the items you brought her. “These are for you. I know you said don’t bring anything, but I couldn’t show up empty handed, and I already owned this book so it was no bother to bring it.”

“Thanks,” Jessie takes the flowers and looks at the book. “I don't want to take your copy from you.”

“No, I insist it’s the least I could do, I’ve already read it. Just feel free to ignore all the notes I wrote in the margins, there’s quite a few.” The book wasn’t doing anything at your place, collecting dust on a shelf but there was no reason for you to hold onto it.

“I’ll return it as soon as I’m done.” Jessie says with a smile before placing the book on a table and moving to fill a vase with water. You watch her walk away, she’s in a Portland shirt and a pair of black shorts, nothing crazy, but still something about it fit her so well, it was exactly what you’d expect her to wear outside of a kit or training gear.

You look around her place, it’s clean and tidy, just like her locker, but it’s homey. There’s photos on her walls, a bookshelf filled with books and little trinkets that you’re sure have some sentimental value. She’s still got a few boxes stacked neatly in a corner, not that you could judge her, under your bed still sat a few bags that you never unpacked from your move over a year ago.

“Can I get you something to drink? Feel free to make yourself at home, try the couch I just bought. I can’t decide if I like it or not.” She moves toward a cabinet.

“Just water.”

“Ice?”

“Sure.” You sit down on the couch. The couch was cozy in your opinion, a perfect mix of firm and soft.

Jessie makes her way over two glasses in hand, placing yours on a coaster before taking a sip of her own and placing it down. She sits down next to you on the couch.

“So, you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I’m not really sure where to even start. I just wanted to thank you, and also apologize, and just talk.” You suddenly lose your train of thought. All the things you had thought through to say to her and you’d forgotten. You had sat down after training, starting to plan out everything you wanted to say to her. But now actually sitting in front of her, your thoughts are gone. “Uh, sorry give me a second, it's just a lot of thoughts.” You pull at the strings on your sweatshirt.

“Take your time, we have all night.” The smile she gives you is so warm, genuine, as if she’d happily sit here all night waiting for you to find the right words to say to her.

You sit there trying to organize your thoughts, trying to figure out what to say first. You decide an apology is what you owe her first.

“I’m sorry. That’s the most important part. I have been a terrible human and teammate to you.” You take a deep breath trying to sort your thoughts even more, so far you’d given her a surface level apology. “It was wrong of me to not even give you a chance. I should’ve waited, gotten to know you, but I didn’t and that was selfish and immature of me, to go and assume you had it out for my spot. I felt threatened by your move, you’re a fantastic player Jessie and I knew you coming here would cut down my playing time, so I felt scared and I took it out on you. I made it about myself when it wasn’t, it’s not about me.”

You pause, stuck in your train of thought again.

“Thank you.” Jessie’s voice is soft, she reaches again for her water.

“Oh I’m not done, I owe you more than just that.” You say with a small laugh. Reaching for your own water, feeling your throat dry.

“Oh, okay. Whenever you’re ready.” She nods at you.

You take in another deep breath. “I’m also sorry it took so long for me to recognize you as my teammate, my ally, not my enemy. I just felt scared, I think, not of you as a person, but for my career. I didn’t have a good rookie season, which has nothing to do with you, but still I was already on edge with feeling like I wasn’t succeeding, then to see the team bring in someone like you, a big name, a more experienced player, I was scared.” You then realize it sounds like you’re making excuses, which wasn’t what you wanted to be doing.

You suddenly feel restless, uncomfortable on the couch, your leg bouncing, hands still fidgeting with your hoodie strings. So you stand up, starting to walk around, feeling it might ease your feelings. “And I’m not trying to justify my behavior, how I acted was still very wrong. I’m just trying to explain so maybe you don’t think I’m a terrible person even though it would be very fair if you did.”

You mainly stare at the floor, watching your own feet step across the room and then turn. Occasionally glancing up to look at Jessie, who’s eyes seem to never leave you, even if you’re not looking back. Her expression was hard to read, she didn’t look upset, or mad, she didn’t look happy either, just neutral expression as she listened to you.

“I also wanted to thank you.” You stop walking in front of Jessie, turning to look at her for this. “For the game, standing up for me, you really didn’t have to do that, especially how terrible I’ve been. If I were you I wouldn’t have done that, but it’s pretty clear we’ve established you’re the more mature one here. Anyway, thank you, and also I’m sorry that you got a red over it. I think that's everything I wanted to say, but I’m sure there's a lot more I owe you apologies for.” You take a deep breath and wipe your hands down the sides of your shorts, feeling them sweating. “I don’t deserve for you to forgive me, I know that, so if you don’t, no harm I understand. But if there’s anything I can do, I owe you a pretty big apology.”

Jessie looks back at you before to the space on the couch next to her. She pats her hand on the cushion. “Come sit, you’re making me sick with the pacing.” You finally see a smile break on her face and a small amount of relief washes over you.

You make your way back to the couch, sitting down next to Jessie who turns her body, crossing her legs to face you. She holds her hands out, palms up to you before giving them a shake. You place your hands into hers, hoping she can’t feel the sweat or the slight shake they have.

She gently squeezes your hands in her own. Before staring into your eyes. “Thank you. Seriously, I know it probably wasn’t easy to get yourself to do this. I appreciate it. You also don’t owe me anything, apology is enough for me. I would like to get to know you though, if that’s something you’d like.”

“Yeah, it is. Obviously Janine is fond of you so you must be pretty cool.”

“Okay, well let’s start with this, what do you like on your pizza? I’ve got the ingredients to make homemade ones.” She points toward her kitchen, standing up.

“Pretty much anything, I’m not picky.” You stand up and follow her.

The two of you make pizza, chatting a small amount about the best pizza you’ve ever had which leads to conversations about the best food you’ve ever had, leading to discussions on travel. The conversation flowed easily, you found yourself taking a moment to reflect how relaxed, peaceful it felt to just talk and be in Jessie’s presence. You were able to talk, hold a conversation, ask her questions without thinking how she took away your playing time, how she had started over you. None of that seemed to matter as the two of you stood in the kitchen laughing, smiling, and chatting together.

“So tell me about yourself, do you have siblings, where’s your family from, what about your parents?” Jessie said as she set down her plate and glass, joining you at her kitchen table.

You knew the question was coming, it always did. Most of the girls knew you were no contact with your parents, they just didn’t know why. “Uh, I was born and pretty much raised in Virginia, stayed there until I moved away for college, I have an older brother but I don’t see him much, and my parents I haven’t spoken to since I was 18.” You feel yourself brace for whatever reaction Jessie was going to have.

“Oh.” Is all that falls from her mouth. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry I wouldn’t have asked.”

“No it’s okay, it was mostly my choice, so don’t feel bad.” You hated having this conversation, everyone was always so empathetic, feeling sorry for you and your parentless young adult life, they didn’t know you were better off without them, you were happier without them.

“I’d ask where you went to school but I think the sweatshirt gives it away.” Jessie quickly changed the subject pointing at the hoodie with the Stanford logo across your chest.

“Yeah, I’d ask where you went to school but I already know.” You say before talking again. “I realize that sounds creepy, it’s just sort of known that you went to UCLA.” Deciding to abandon the subject of school you turn, putting down the piece of pizza in your hand and point over to her collect of cameras neatly placed on a small shelf. “How’d you get into photography?”

The rest of dinner flows easily, just like it had while the two of you made dinner. She tells you about getting into photography, you ask her more questions about her hobbies. She asks about Stanford, your degree, you talk about your hobbies and interests. It’s one of the nicest evenings you’ve had in a while. You find yourself genuinely enjoying the company of the Canadian.

Her smile puts a wave of warmth through your body, the sound of her laugh forces you to hold back your own smile. The way she runs her fingers through her hair to keep it out of her face is mesmerizing. You were hanging off every word she said.

When you both finish eating you help clean up, when you start to do the dishes Jessie waves you off telling you she’ll do them later to which you say you don’t mind and instead of arguing, she moves over to help. She gently places her hand on your lower back to scoot behind you and over to grab a towel. It wasn’t uncommon for her, or any of your teammates to touch you, it happened all the time at practice, just something about it with Jessie, in her apartment felt different. Pushing the feeling of her hand on your lower back from your mind, you wash the dishes while she stands with a towel in hand ready to dry them. For a split second you think about how domestic it is, the two of you washing dishes. The thought only stays for a moment before you force it from your mind.

Once the place is clean, you put away the last of the clean and dry dishes you turn to look at the clock. “I should probably get going. It’s a little late.”

Jessie turns to look at the clock, surprise across her face when she sees it’s nearing 9:30. “Oh my, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you late, I guess time flies in good company.” You’ve noticed all the small compliments she’s given you throughout the night, how kind she’s been to you. Part of you knows it’s just because that’s who Jessie is, she’s nice, she’s kind, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. The other part of you wonders if maybe Sam was right, maybe there’s a crush, maybe that’s why she’s been so nice.

“No worried.” You wave her off. “It’s been nice.” You move toward the front door, sliding your shoes back on. “Thank you for having me, thank you for letting me talk to you.”

“Of course, this was nice.” You watch as Jessie grabs her own pair of shoes.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to walk you home.” She looks at you like you’re stupid.

“No Jessie, you don’t have to do that. Please, I insist, I don’t need the escort home.”

“Fine, and I know I’m not in charge of you, but text me when you get home?” Jessie gives you a squint, probably bracing herself for you to yell at her like you did the last time she asked you to do that.

“Yeah, I will.” You nod at her. “Thanks again, goodnight.”

“Have a goodnight.” She says as you pull the door closed behind you. You head down and out of her building, the street was dark lit up with only a few street lamps between her place and yours.

Your walk is uneventful with the exception of the sinking feeling that was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach. It’s matched with an uneasy feeling, suddenly aware of how nice Jessie made you feel, how your stomach had tingled when she’d say your name. You couldn’t have that. You start to make excuses for every feeling you felt. It wasn’t attraction, it was just nice having a new friend, that’s why you felt like that, no other reasons. When you get home you reach into your pocket and grab your phone. Sliding it open to find Jessie’s name and typing you start typing a message.

You: I made it home, thank you for dinner and hearing me out.

You: Let me know what you think of that book.

You couldn’t believe the girl who’s first texts you ignored, you were now double texting, but it meant nothing, she was your teammate. She was a teammate but a teammate who made your stomach clench when her name popped up on the screen.

Jessie: Thanks for letting me know, thanks for the chat. I’ll let you know once I start reading it!

Jessie: Have a good night, see you tomorrow. :)

[sleepymarimo]

i need a part 2 of that toji x barista reader fluff omg 😭😭 its so good im obsessed

a.n. ahhhh ty anon 😭 i wasnt planning on a pt 2 but i have some hcs with toji and a barista!reader :) pt.1

after your little chat over coffee, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 finds himself going to your shop more and more. he’s not sure if it’s you or your highly caffeinated brews that make his heart thump in his chest, but he minds it less and less with each visit.

he gets a little stubborn when his clients take him to other cafes, the drinks paling in comparison to what you whip up for him. once when shiu was driving the assassin to a job early in the morning, toji smelled the coffee in his handler’s cup and wrinkled his nose. “that’s a shitty roast.”

when a job takes him extra far, he’ll buy you coffee beans and mugs you can’t get easily!

sometimes, he even brings clients to your shop for meetings. for your safety he may pretend not to know you, but his eyes tell a different story.

you’ll scribble his name on a plastic cup, brushing your fingers against his with a big smile on your face. once he wraps up his business and strolls out, he holds back an affectionate chuckle as he slides down the coffee sleeve to see the heart you’d secretly drawn on his cup for him.

another thing about toji that you find out is that he secretly enjoys his coffee sweet. his clan only ever graced him with black coffee, no sugar or cream or any of that syrupy goodness.

he loves kissing you after you’ve had a latte or frappuccino, his tongue tracing your lips. if you’re going out after your shift, he convinces you to get your favorite drink in the largest size so that he can finish what you don’t.

once you figure out he doesn’t mind the sweet stuff, you spoil him with it all the time. his cup might have ‘blk coffee’ written on the side, but it’s actually a vanilla latte. it keeps up his tough guy image!

and oh how he cherishes the photos of the latte art you send him. after he wraps up jobs, bloodied yet rarely bruised, he scans through the pictures you’d sent. “you’re a damn artist” he sometimes texts back. or “you’ll have to make one for me”.

toji adores his barista to bits!! you might as well be a shot of espresso.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed

a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?

Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it. 

His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl. 

The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms. 

“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”

His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes. 

“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees. 

“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”

“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”

“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.” 

She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something. 

“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.” 

“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.” 

“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.” 

“Uh…It was a joke.” 

“Oh.” 

Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?” 

A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile. 

“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t. 

You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing. 

Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball. 

You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses. 

Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud. 

You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him. 

You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the  color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.

Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look. 

“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?” 

He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head. 

Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty. 

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.” 

God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his. 

“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat. 

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.

“I bet you say that to all the older guys.” 

“Only the cute ones.” 

Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you. 

Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving. 

“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.” 

A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns. 

Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline. 

Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him. 

Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry. 

“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?” 

He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.” 

You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.” 

“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow. 

“I don’t have to what?” 

“Swim with me.” 

You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips. 

You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance. 

“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.” 

He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.” 

The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment. 

However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim. 

When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night. 

Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat. 

“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.” 

“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him. 

“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask. 

He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.” 

“I’m sure it will.” 

"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.” 

The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other. 

“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?” 

He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks. 

“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?” 

You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.” 

You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.” 

Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin. 

“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own. 

Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement. 

“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.” 

Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you. 

“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.” 

Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy. 

“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek. 

You nod, “Of course.” 

The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming. 

You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.

You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home. 

A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus. 

You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly. 

“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right. 

“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.” 

You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 

“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.” 

He grins, “It’s the least I could do.” 

The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back. 

Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.

You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality. 

The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.

You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes. 

When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should. 

You push back your worries.

“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?" 

The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car. 

“Wine sounds great.” 

The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze. 

“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—” 

“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?” 

He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.” 

“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?” 

“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.” 

“Oh, believe me. I do.” 

You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again. 

A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.” 

The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple. 

Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching. 

“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.” 

He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” 

“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.” 

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.” 

“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed. 

You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn. 

“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.” 

His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear. 

“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”  

He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.” 

“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.” 

Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs. 

You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too. 

“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?” 

Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure. 

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.” 

Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still. 

Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake. 

Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him. 

Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips. 

“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.” 

He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs. 

“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face. 

A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?” 

“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.” 

“You never rode someone before?” 

You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger. 

“We can switch positions. It’s okay.” 

“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.” 

“Oh, honey.” 

Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back. 

“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.” 

You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.” 

“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.” 

An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.” 

Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking. 

You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”

Joel looks up and allows himself to smile. 

“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.” 

His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out. 

Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?” 

“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.” 

The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches. 

“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering. 

“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis. 

“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips. 

You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver. 

“Feels good?” 

You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn. 

“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt. 

He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle. 

“Another time, sunshine.” 

Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit. 

A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin. 

Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine. 

“Where do you want me?” 

It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. 

“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips. 

“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time. 

“My mouth.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more. 

“Sweetheart, move your tongue.” 

Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again. 

He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles. 

“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?” 

He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.” 

You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all. 

[lovebugism]

for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?

autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself. 

The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist. 

Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.

The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.

“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.

“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.

“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.

Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.

“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.

Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.

“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.

You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker. 

You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows. 

Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.

You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.

He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.

Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—

Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.

“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”

“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.

“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”

Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.

“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”

He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”

Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him. 

He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.

You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage. 

Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification. 

With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.

Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.

Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.” 

You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.

“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”

Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.

“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”

“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again. 

He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.

“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.

You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.

“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones. 

His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.

You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to. 

“Oh…”

“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”

Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”

It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.

Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”

He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.

“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.

“Stevie?” he chuckles.

Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”

You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time.

“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”

He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.

“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”

Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.

His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”

You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.

“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”

“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”

You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.

“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.

“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.

You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”

“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”

The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.

He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat.

You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.

Ding! 

The door chimes at the front of the store. 

Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.

“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same. 

He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.

The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”

He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.

He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.

Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists. 

You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips. 

Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.