#all of this has probably been said before

[eowynstwin]

Price x Reader. Age gap. Divorced Price. Older BF Price. Vaguely smutty. Follow-up to this.

Price realizes you’ve never had a reliable man in your life exactly the second time he discovers you looking up DIY home maintenance for very simple projects.

It missed him the first time because he was deployed. You’d mentioned offhand how you were figuring out how to rebalance a ceiling fan, and he’d just automatically assumed that you were doing it yourself because he wasn’t there, so he simply praised you for your resourcefulness and lived for the next three weeks off of the way you’d absolutely glowed at his words.

But then he gets home, and one evening on the couch he catches you googling “how to fix a leaky sink.”

“What’s that?” he asks you, tamping down on the sudden feeling of masculine inadequacy that reared up almost immediately at the discovery.

“Faucet handle’s leaking all over my counter when I turn it on,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “Landlord’s out of town and can’t fix it.”

“I’m in town, ain’t I?”

You look up at him then, brows raised. You hadn’t even considered asking him, then.

“Oh—I didn’t want to bother you, John, you only just got back, and you’re tired…”

You trail off at the droll expression on his face.

Price has learned a lot of lessons from his previous marriage. The foundational one: just because he hasn’t been asked to help doesn’t mean he is believed to be unreliable. Adding that lesson to his knowledge base about you—young, modern, independent—calculates out an obvious answer that curtails any sour mood that might have sprouted up over the issue.

He puts his hand over your phone screen and lowers it down to your lap. “I’m fixin’ the sink,” he says simply.

He enjoys the way your eyes dilate at the assertion.

The next day, he shows up at your flat wearing old work clothes and carrying his heavy toolbox in his hand.

(You don’t live together yet—something he’s keen to rectify—but he has a toothbrush in your bathroom and permanent space in your bedroom drawers. He can be content for now.)

And you—you answer the door in the filmiest of sundresses, the ribbon tie on one shoulder hanging at a loose angle.

“Heard you need some plumbing done,” he says in the gruffest of voices, already understanding the game.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” you say, barely able to hide your giggle, “I’ve been so worried.”

He steps in close to you, close enough to feel the heat of your body radiating off of your bare skin. He has half a mind to put the charade aside and lift your skirt here and now, but another lesson helpfully springs to mind: anticipation of the act makes the finale all the sweeter.

“I’ll show you to the kitchen,” you murmur, looking up at him with warm, dreamy eyes.

When he gets under the sink, he finds the problem easy enough to fix—the cold water supply line simple isn’t screwed in tight enough, and when he wiggles the whole contraption by the valves he finds that nothing has been tightened up to standard. A couple of years knocking the thing around had probably loosened up the locknut.

He elects to fix the whole problem in one go, while in the meantime you stand off to the side, watching him. He feels your eyes on his legs, trailing up to the hair on his belly exposed by his shirt riding up.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I should’ve said before,” you simper, “but I’m not really sure how I’m gonna pay for this.”

His cock jumps in his jeans, and he feels your gaze move to it as if it’s a physical touch.

He levers himself out a little and meets your eyes, keeping a stern expression on his face.

“I’m sure you’re gonna figure it out,” he says. Looking down at his groin and then back up at your face might be a touch unsubtle, but clear communication had been the most important lesson of all.

He slides himself back under, and pretends he doesn’t feel you approach, or lower to your knees between his spread legs. He ignores your gentle hands falling on the closure of his jeans, the pop of the button coming undone, the parting of the zipper as you pull it down.

“Of course, sir,” you say, “I’m sure I will.”

The softness of your hand meets his growing erection, caressing the head of his cock with your thumb—followed very close behind by the wet, liquid heat of your mouth.

[stylesispunk]

'Merry christmas, please call me' day 1/3

no outbreak! Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: one year after your breakup, joel is pleading to his phone for a call from you. 🌲

w.c: 6k>

warnings: age gap (joel is fifteen years older than reader) angst as usual and fluff with a happy ending like in the Christmas movies.

a/n: welcome to the first day of my joel's fic christmas version event. I want to remind you that i'm from south america and my christmas has always been hot because of summer, so i'm feeding my dreams. I hope you like this one and see you again on the second day of my mini event! Happy reading 💌

The smell of burn cookies made Joel nauseous. The lights of the Christmas tree in the corner of these four walls seemed to gave him a migraine.

A night like this where everyone was celebrating around a table full of food and loved ones. He was lonely with his thoughts drifting away to you. You were on his mind, day and night for the last 365 days that he had been without you.

It was his fault.

He recalled, this exact same night a year ago when he broke up with you out of the blue, due to poor excuses nor even him believed.

Your age gap, that you were childish, that you deserved someone better, he’d said. Someone whole. A ridiculous justification that even he couldn’t stomach now. At the time, he’d convinced himself it was for the best. He had no right to drag you into his mess of doubts and guilt, into his constant battle with the ghosts of his past. But it didn’t stop the ache from settling in his bones, lingering there like a wound that refused to heal.

His thumb hovered over your name in his contacts. It had been a year since you left, a year since the fight that had left him standing alone in the doorway, watching you walk out with tears in your eyes and a suitcase in your hand. He hadn’t dared delete your number, which now stared back at him, mocking him in the silence. How many times had he replayed that night in his head, hoping he’d wake up and find that it was nothing more than a cruel nightmare?

Call her, the voice in his head whispered.

But what could he say? What words could possibly undo the damage he’d caused?

A sigh escaped him as his head dropped back against the old couch, the springs groaning in protest. The soft hum of a Christmas song playing from a neighbor’s apartment felt like salt in the wound, each note a reminder of what he’d lost.

You were his person. You’d been his anchor through the storms, the one who never let him drown, even when he tried to push you away. And he had pushed you, hard enough to make you leave for good.

But Joel still hoped. Pathetically, desperately. Every buzz of his phone made his heart lurch, only to drop moments later when it wasn’t you. He hated himself for it, for waiting on a miracle he didn’t deserve.

Finally, with trembling hands, he let his thumb tap against your name. The call button loomed there, so simple and yet so heavy. He stared at it, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered, voice rough. The silence of the house swallowed his words. “Please call me... God, just call me.”

He closed his eyes, pressing his palms to his face. You were out there somewhere, probably laughing, surrounded by family or friends. Did you even think about him? Did you miss him the way he missed you? The unanswered questions gnawed at him, the kind of pain he’d learned to carry in his bones over the last twelve months.

When he finally looked at the phone again, he couldn’t stop himself. He typed out a message, the words simple but raw:

Merry Christmas. Please call me.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, the soft whoosh of the message sending feeling louder than it should have. Now, all he could do was wait.

You won’t reply, he thought bitterly. Why would you?

But just as he began to put the phone down, it buzzed in his hand.

The sound of laughter echoed around the room, your cousin telling some exaggerated story about their vacation as everyone leaned in, caught up in the humor of it all. You tried to smile, to focus on the holiday warmth and cheer, but it all felt distant, like you were watching it from behind a thick pane of glass.

For the last four Christmas you had had someone by your side, holding your hand and making you feel a whole in the room.

Now he wasn’t here.

Now it had been a year since he pushed you away from his life.

You excused yourself for a moment, slipping out to the porch where the cold December air stung your skin. It was quieter out here, the twinkle of Christmas lights from neighboring houses reflecting off the snow. You wrapped your arms around yourself, breathing out slowly, your breath a cloud in the chill.

And then you felt it. The buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Sliding it out, your heart stopped when you saw the name.

 Joel.

The message was simple, just four words Merry Christmas. Please call me.

You stared at the screen, your mind racing. You hadn't heard from him in months. The last time had been his birthday three months ago, a tentative text you’d sent just to say you hoped he was doing well. He’d thanked you, but the conversation died before it could have started. You thought that was the end of it, that Joel had moved on, just like everyone told you he would.

But now... this.

You sank onto the porch steps, your fingers tightening around the phone. The memories came flooding back: The past Christmas, when he’d held you in his arms by the fire, murmuring promises you’d believed in so completely. And the fight that tore it all apart, the anger in his voice masking the vulnerability he was so terrified to show.

You swiped at your screen, opening the message again.

Call him, a voice in your head urged. Just call him.

But another voice whispered fearfully

 What if he’s just lonely?

For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts. Then, with a deep breath, you pressed the button. The phone rang once, twice, each second stretching into eternity.

“Hello?” His voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours.

You closed your eyes, the sound of him unraveling something inside you. “Joel,”

….

You’d spent hours making everything perfect. The table was set with Joel’s favorite dishes, the candles were lit, and soft Christmas music floated through the air. The snow outside created a picturesque view through the windows, and for the first time in days, you were excited. Joel had been distant lately, his long hours at work bleeding into your evenings, but tonight would be different. It had to be.

“Joel, you’re late,” you said softly as he walked through the door, his shoulders slumped, his face tired.

He barely glanced at the table as he shrugged off his jacket. “Got caught up at work.”

“I made dinner.” You gave him a small smile, trying to meet his eyes. “I thought maybe tonight—”

“I’m not hungry,” he cut you off, his voice sharper than it needed to be.

Something in his tone made you flinch. You watched him sink onto the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. The weariness in his face didn’t feel like exhaustion; it felt like resignation.

You walked over to him carefully, sitting on the edge of the coffee table so you could face him. “But it’s christmas eve.”

“I know.” he muttered, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t the man who used to pull you into his lap and kiss your worries away. This was someone locked behind a wall you couldn’t reach. “You’ve been different lately. Talk to me. Please.”

He let out a long breath, his hands running through his hair. “I don’t know what we’re doin’ here.”

The words slammed into you like a physical blow. “What?”

Joel looked up at you finally, his expression hard, guarded. “Us. This. It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

Your heart pounded. “What are you talking about?”

He stood up abruptly, pacing the room like he needed to get away from you, as if your presence burned his skin. “You’re too young for this—”

“Don’t.” Your voice trembled, but you stood too, following him. “Don’t do that. You’ve never cared about the age gap before.”

“You should be with someone who can give you what you want, not some old man who can’t figure his shit out.” He turned, finally meeting your eyes, and his were cold, deliberately so. “Someone who isn’t afraid for what people say.”

The words hit like ice water, sharp and cruel. You took a step back, shaking your head. “Joel, that’s not fair. I don’t care about any of that. I love you.”

“Don’t,” he said again, his voice a low growl. “You’re just sayin’ that because you don’t know any better.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s the truth.” He swallowed hard, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I can’t be what you need. And you deserve better than what I can give.”

It wasn’t the words themselves that hurt the most, it was the way he said them, like he’d already decided this for you, like he’d been carrying it around for weeks, months, without telling you.

“Don’t you dare decide what I deserve,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Joel looked at you then, really looked at you, and for just a moment, you saw it: the regret, the pain, the fear he was trying so desperately to hide. But then he turned his back to you, his shoulders rigid.

“Go,” he said quietly.

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“I said you should go.”

The room went deathly silent except for the sound of your soft, choked breaths. Joel didn’t move, didn’t turn around as you stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, to take it back. But he didn’t.

“We had been together for five years, Joel” you sobbed “Are you throwing away?”

Joel's jaw tightened, his back still turned to you as if he couldn't bear to face what he was doing, what he had already done. His hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white as if he were holding himself together by sheer force. The dim light from the Christmas tree glowed faintly in the reflection of the window, mocking the warmth and love that should've filled this night.

“I’m tired.”

You couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t keep the crack out of your voice as you pleaded. “Tired of what? Of me?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice breaking, his shoulders drawing tight. “It ain’t just that,” he muttered, the words coming out strained. “It’s everythin’, me, us—” He finally turned to face you, his eyes dark and distant, as though he’d already started pulling himself away long before tonight. “You deserve better.”

“Don’t do that,” you snapped through the sobs, pointing at him, your whole-body trembling. “Don’t you dare try to make this about me, Joel. This is about you. You’re the one running away, you’re the one who—” You swallowed hard, the pain rising in your throat like a wave. “Who’s giving up.”

Joel's face crumpled for just a second, but he smoothed it out quickly, replacing it with that familiar mask of stubbornness. “I am tired,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse. “Of fightin’ every damn day with the parts of myself you don’t see. I can’t—I can’t drag you into that. Not anymore.”

You shook your head, your tears falling faster now. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you, Joel. I chose you! Over and over for five years. So don’t you dare tell me I can’t handle it, or you.”

His gaze flickered toward the floor, like he couldn’t stand to look at you. “It ain’t enough.”

Those words cut deeper than anything else he’d said. “What’s not enough?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you stepped closer. “Me? Or us?”

Joel looked back at you then, and for a moment, you thought you saw his resolve crack. You thought he might say he was sorry, that he’d been lying, that he still loved you the way you loved him.

But all he said was, “You need to go.”

Your heart shattered.

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head violently, refusing to believe this was happening. “I’m not leaving. I’m not walking away from you.”

Joel’s face hardened, though his eyes betrayed the storm inside him. He took a step back, deliberately creating distance between you both. “I already did, darlin’.”

A sob escaped you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached; your lungs empty despite the cold air filling the room. It felt surreal, like you were living a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Fine,” you whispered, your voice ragged. You wiped angrily at your tears, glaring at him through the blur. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

“I hope you know what you’re losing.”

Joel didn’t respond. He didn’t move. And when you finally stepped out into the cold December night, suitcase in hand, the sound of the door closing behind you felt like the final nail in the coffin of everything you had built together.

It wasn’t until you were gone—until the silence swallowed the room whole—that Joel let his mask fall. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as tears slipped through his fingers.

Because he knew.

He knew exactly what he was losing.

And he left you walk away with nowhere to go.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “I—I wasn’t sure if you’d...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

There was a pause, and then you spoke. “I wasn’t sure either.”

His heart clenched. He wanted to say a hundred things, to tell you how much he missed you, how every day without you had been a slow, aching torture. But all he managed was: “Thanks for calling.”

“I wasn’t sure I should,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. “Joel, why?

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because it’s Christmas. And because...” He ran a hand over his face, forcing the words out. “Because I’ve been a damn fool. I didn’t fight for us when I should’ve. And not a day’s gone by where I don’t regret it.”

The silence on the other end felt unbearable. “I know I don’t deserve this,” he added quickly. “But I just needed to hear your voice. Even if it’s just this once.”

His words cut through the cold night air, stirring something deep inside you. Joel had never been good at talking about his feelings, and hearing him now, his voice raw and unsteady, you realized just how much this call meant to him.

“You hurt me, Joel,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I gave you everything, and you... you pushed me away.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick. “I know I did. I was scared, alright? Scared of messing up, of losing you... and I ended up doin’ just that.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes stinging. “And now? What’s changed?”

“I have,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve had a year to think about every mistake I made, every time I let my pride get in the way. I’m not sayin’ I’ve got it all figured out, but... I know I can’t go another year without you, darlin’.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

“Joel,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Just tell me if there’s a chance,” he said, his voice breaking. “Even the smallest one. I’ll do whatever it takes, I swear it.”

“Are you alone?” you asked, feeling your voice trembling.

Joel froze for a second, caught off guard by the question. He exhaled softly, his breath shaky. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “It’s just me and some burnt cookies.”

Your heart ached at his words, but a small, broken laugh escaped you at his words. Burnt cookies. Joel had never been much of a baker. That was your thing. And yet, every Christmas, he’d insist on helping or more accurately, on getting in the way, while you made batch after batch of cookies.

“You burned them?” you asked softly, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips through the tears.

“‘Course I did,” Joel grumbled, though there was no bite to it. “Turns out, I’m no better at bakin’ now than I was then.” He hesitated before adding, almost shyly, “Guess it’s not as fun when you’re not here to yell at me for sneakin’ the dough.”

“Joel, I swear to God, if you eat one more spoonful of that dough—”

He grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, before scooping up another bite and popping it into his mouth. “What? I’m just makin’ sure it’s good, darlin’. Quality control.”

It was like that every single time, you’d roll your eyes, only for him to pull you into his arms and press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering, tasting of sugar and butter.

You’d tried to scold him, but he always made you laugh instead, his hands sneaking around your waist to pull you close. The cookies always took twice as long as they should’ve, and more flour ended up on the two of you than in the dough. But those moments had been yours—sweet, simple, and full of a kind of love you didn’t realize you’d taken for granted until it was gone.

“Do you remember?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Joel’s breath hitched on the other end of the line. “Every second of it,” he admitted softly. “I remember how you’d get that little crease in your brow when you were concentratin’, tryin’ to make everything perfect. And how I’d ruin it all just to get you to look at me instead.”

You smiled through your tears, the memories making your chest ache. “You never helped. You just kissed me the whole time.”

“Well,” Joel said, his voice thick but warmer now, “you didn’t seem to mind too much.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your hand to your chest as if it could stop the way your heart ached for him. For all of it. “I didn’t,” you admitted quietly. “I loved that.”

There was a pause, heavy and delicate all at once.

“I miss you,” Joel said finally, his voice low and rough. “I’ve missed us. Not just the cookies, or the traditions... but you, darlin’. I miss seein’ you smile. I miss hearin’ your laugh when I did somethin’ dumb. I miss... kissin’ you in the middle of a mess we made together.”

Your throat tightened, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. How was it that Joel always managed to say the exact words you’d been afraid to admit to yourself?

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you whispered. “It makes it harder.”

Joel went quiet on the other end of the line. The soft crackle of the connection was the only sound between you, filling the heavy silence where words struggled to exist. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid saying it out loud might break you both.

“What?” he asked, hopeful somehow.

"To hate you" you said, bluntly.

“I don’t want you to hate me, darlin’.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing the heel of your palm against your forehead to stop the tears. “Well, it would’ve been easier if you’d stayed away.”

“I tried,” Joel admitted.

You could picture him sitting there, in the same living room where you’d spent so many nights living together. You imagined the empty house around him, quiet and cold, without the warmth the two of you used to fill it with.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence on the line felt heavier now, like it was holding both your hearts in its grip.

“I thought—” you started, then stopped, the words catching in your throat. I thought you’d moved on, you wanted to say. But you couldn’t. You weren’t ready to admit that fear aloud, not yet.

Joel seemed to understand anyway. “There’s no one else,” he said softly. “There never could be. I—I didn’t want to make you think I was waitin’, like I was hopin’ for somethin’ I didn’t deserve. But I couldn’t... I couldn’t bring myself to move on. You’re it for me.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling up as his words sank in. You’re it for me. Joel Miller, stubborn and guarded as he’d always been, was laying himself bare in a way he never had before.

“Why now, Joel?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why tonight?”

He let out a heavy breath. “Because i'm in love with you” he said, leaving no room for doubting “And because I couldn’t let another month pass without tellin’ you what’s in my heart. Even if it’s too late... I needed you to know.”

The line went quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t the kind of silence that felt heavy with regret. It felt different—like a small flicker of something you weren’t ready to name just yet.

“Get some sleep, Joel,” you murmured softly, surprising even yourself.

He chuckled lightly, a sound you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. “Alright, baby. I will. You too.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight,” Joel replied, his voice soft and warm.

You hung up the phone and let it rest against your chest as you lay back on the couch, tears still wet on your cheeks.

You stood up to go back inside the house and the room felt still, like the world had paused just for you to breathe, to take in everything that had happened. The faint glow of the Christmas lights cast soft, colorful patterns on the walls. It felt bittersweet, like the warmth of a memory that wouldn’t quite let go.

Your chest ached with the weight of it all. Joel’s voice still lingered in your mind, the way he’d said baby, soft, familiar, like it belonged to you and no one else. It had been so long since you’d heard it, and it stirred something in you you’d tried to bury. Something tender and raw, something that reminded you of stolen kisses in the kitchen, of his arms wrapped around you on cold nights, of the way he used to make you feel like home wasn’t a place but a person.

You wiped at your cheeks, sniffling quietly. “Damn you, Joel Miller,” you whispered to the empty room, but your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Relieved? Hopeful?

“Are you okay?” your mother’s voice broke through the stillness, soft but laced with concern.

You startled slightly, turning toward the sound. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim glow of the hall light, her face etched with the quiet worry only a mother could carry.

You tried to smile, to brush it off like you always did, but the tears still wet on your cheeks betrayed you. “Yeah,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from the emotion threatening to spill over. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head, unconvinced, and took a slow step closer. “Sweetheart...”

The way she said it made your composure wobble. You looked away, blinking rapidly as if that would erase the evidence of the storm swirling inside you. “It’s nothing, Mom. Just... Christmas stuff.”

She didn’t say anything right away, just moved to sit beside you on the couch. Her warmth and presence were enough to break something loose inside you, and for a moment, you just sat there in silence.

After a long, heavy pause, you finally spoke, your voice trembling. “I have to go.”

Your mother turned to you, her brows knitting together in quiet confusion. “Go? Where?”

You swallowed hard, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I... I don’t know…home?”

Her expression softened, and she gave a small, knowing nod. “To Joel?”

You glanced at her, startled that she understood so quickly, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. Mothers always knew. “I just-” You broke off, your voice faltering.

She studied you for a long moment, then reached out to gently clasp your hand. “Then go,” she said quietly, squeezing it in encouragement. “But go for the right reasons, sweetheart. Not because it’s Christmas, or because you feel like you owe him something. Go if you think it’s what your heart needs.”

You blinked at her, your throat tight. “What if I regret it?”

She smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And what if you don’t?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, one that settled deep in your chest.

You exhaled shakily, then stood, your movements unsteady but resolute. “I’ll be back soon,” you said, though you weren’t sure if it was more for her benefit or your own.

She gave you a gentle smile and stayed seated, as if she knew this was something you had to do on your own. “Take a coat,” she reminded you softly.

You nodded, grabbing your coat and scarf off the rack by the door. The cold air outside hit you immediately as you stepped out, but it didn’t slow your steps as you headed to your car. Your heart pounded, nerves swirling in your stomach as you turned the ignition and pulled out onto the quiet, dark road.

Joel sat slouched on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the Christmas tree he’d half-heartedly decorated earlier that day. The glow of the lights cast soft, uneven patterns on the floor, but he wasn’t really seeing them. His mind was stuck somewhere else—on the sound of your voice, on the quiet goodnight that hung heavier than he could have imagined.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix. It was the kind of weariness that came from missing someone so deeply it felt like it hollowed you out.

A sudden knock at the door startled him. He frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, grumbling under his breath as he trudged toward the door. “Tommy, I swear I’m fi—”

He pulled the door open mid-sentence, the complaint dying on his lips when he saw who it was.

You.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stood there on his doorstep, wrapped in your coat and scarf, your cheeks pink from the cold, your breath visible in the freezing air. Your wide eyes met his, filled with something he couldn’t name—surprise, maybe, or uncertainty.

Joel froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his heart thudding hard against his chest. He blinked, like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Baby?”

“Hi,” you said softly, the single word carrying so much weight it nearly knocked the air out of him.

Joel let out a shaky breath, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “What... what’re you doin’ here?”

You shifted the bag in your hands, your fingers clutching the handles tightly, like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “I, uh... I brought some things to bake cookies,” you said quietly, your voice trembling just enough to betray the emotions you were trying to hold back.

Joel just stared at you, completely still, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. The words sank in slowly, and something in his chest tightened—hard and sudden—until he felt like he might break right there on the spot.

“You... you brought stuff to bake cookies?” he repeated, his voice so low it was barely a whisper.

You nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I figured... if it’s just you and some burnt cookies this year, maybe you could use a little help.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a shaky breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob. He turned his face slightly, as if trying to gather himself, but there was no hiding the way his eyes shone in the soft light spilling from the doorway.

For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, he just looked at you, like you were something fragile and precious, something he couldn’t believe was right in front of him. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back, his voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon in, baby. It’s too damn cold out there.”

You stepped inside, the warmth of home enveloping you, after being away for a year, this house still carried the faint scent of pine, Joel and something a little burnt, probably the remnants of his earlier baking disaster. Joel shut the door behind you, lingering for a moment before turning to face you again.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, his voice uneven, like he was fighting to hold something back.

“I know,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

Joel swallowed hard, the weight of your words sinking into him like a balm to every ache he’d carried for far too long. “You always know how to fix my messes,” he said, his lips curling into a small, almost wistful smile.

You gave him a look, a teasing edge to your voice despite the tension still lingering between you. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t burn down the kitchen.”

Joel let out a quiet laugh, gruff and hoarse, but real. It sounded like the kind of laugh that had been buried for too long, and the sound of it made your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Yeah,” he said softly, watching you with that same unreadable expression. “Guess someone does.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you thick with unspoken words and years of memories. Then Joel sniffed, scrubbing a hand down his face as if to steady himself. “You still use that same recipe?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, your voice light but steady. “You’re gonna help me this time, though. And I mean actually help.”

Joel watched you for another long moment before he turned toward the kitchen, clearing his throat again. “Alright, then,” he said, his voice thick with emotion he couldn’t quite hide. “Let’s make some cookies.”

The kitchen was filled with the warm, sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. A few floury handprints stained the counter, mixing bowls were stacked haphazardly in the sink, and a couple of slightly misshapen cookies sat cooling on the tray. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it felt like you. Like him. Like the pieces of something familiar were falling back into place.

You set the final cookie down on the tray, brushing a bit of flour from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Well,” you said, stepping back to admire the messy success, “I think we did it.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. When you turned to look at him, you found him leaning against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. There was something soft in the way he looked at you, something so Joel,it made your breath hitch.

“What?” you asked, self-conscious under his gaze.

He shook his head slowly, that smile growing just a little. “Nothin’,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Just…you look even more beautiful than I remember.”

The words hit you like a wave, sweeping away all the uncertainty you’d been holding onto. Your heart skipped in your chest, and your breath caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily speechless. You hadn't expected that—hadn’t expected him to say that, especially after all this time.

You glanced away for a moment, suddenly unsure of yourself. The kitchen suddenly felt warmer, the space between you two too close, and yet it felt like everything was finally falling into place, as if you’d both been waiting for this moment without knowing it.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to steady your breath. You met his gaze again, and this time, there was something different there—a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

He stepped forward, slowly, as if giving you the space to decide what came next. But you didn’t pull away. You stood there, rooted in the moment, caught somewhere between the past and the present, unsure of what the future held but certain that, for once, you wanted to face it with him.

“I mean it,” Joel added, his voice soft but unwavering. “You always did have a way of lightin’ up a room, darlin’. But right now… you’re more than I remember.”

A lump formed in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t hold back the emotion that swelled within you. It was like he had reached right into the depths of what you’d been afraid to feel and pulled it all to the surface. You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing his arm, the warmth of his skin making everything feel so real again.

“Joel, I—” Your voice broke, and you paused, unsure of the words.

Joel didn't let you finish your sentence. Before you could gather your thoughts, before the words could fall into place, he closed the gap between you. His hand found your cheek, his thumb grazing the soft skin there, as if he needed to feel you, to make sure this wasn’t just a dream. His lips met yours, soft at first, hesitant, as though he was giving you the chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

You kissed him back, your hands coming up to tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer as the familiar taste of him flooded your senses. It was like stepping into a memory, one you’d been holding on to without even realizing it. All the years, the distance, the pain—all of it seemed to melt away in the warmth of his embrace.

The kiss deepened, slow and tender, and you let yourself lose in it, in him, in the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this was how things were meant to be all along. There were no questions, no doubts, only the comforting certainty of him being right there, of the connection you had never truly lost.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, you gazing the floor instead of his eyes.

His hands were still on your face, his fingers brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every part of you again.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Joel murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes searched yours, vulnerable and open in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Are you going to push me away again?” you asked, meeting his eyes with some fear dancing on them.

Joel’s expression faltered for a moment, his gaze flickering with a mix of fear and hope. He searched your face, as if trying to understand what you were really asking, what you really meant.

“No. I will never do that again.” he answered, “I was scared,” he admitted. “Scared of not bein’ enough for you. Scared of how people talked about us. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize you deserved better.”

“I never thought that,” you said softly, finally meeting his gaze.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours. “I was a damn fool for pushin’ you away. And if I could go back and fix it, I would. But I know I can’t. I just…” He paused, his voice breaking. “I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if we can go back to what we had. But…maybe we can start somewhere new.”

Joel’s breath caught, hope blooming in his chest. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that a lot.”

The silence that followed felt different than before. It wasn’t filled with regret or confusion, but with a shared understanding—a quiet acknowledgment of what had been lost and what was still possible. You stayed close, your hands gently resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Joel finally let out a shaky breath, as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. His hands came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, like he was memorizing the feel of you again. "I’m not askin' for all of it back. Just... a chance. To show you that I can be the man you deserve. The man I should’ve been all along."

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I’m not sure what this looks like, Joel. But we can figure it out, right? Together?”

A soft, sincere smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Joel pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your face as he looked at you with love and something more vulnerable, but what was more vulnerable than love? He took a slow breath, and then his gaze shifted toward the window, the quiet fall of snowflakes beginning to collect on the sill outside.

His voice was soft, almost reverent. "Look at that," he murmured, his eyes tracing the peaceful scene outside. "First snow of the year."

You turned to look out the window, your heart fluttering as you watched the snow gently blanket the world in white, the quiet stillness of the moment wrapping around you both like a cozy blanket. It felt surreal, almost like something out of a dream, a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

Being this close to the man you loved felt like a dream.

Joel stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close again. His chin rested on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, his voice full of raw tenderness, the words wrapped in the kind of love that had been buried for too long but never truly gone.

Before you could respond, he turned you gently, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your waist as he kissed you again, soft and slow, like this moment was meant for both of you, like it was always meant to be this way. The world outside faded, leaving only the quiet hum of your heartbeat and the warmth of his touch, the promise of something new blooming between you two.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like home again.

[pha55ed]

PR Nightmare Two || F1/F2

type :: crack

tw/cw :: pee (carlos), sexual jokes (charles, oscar), watersports (lando), small smut (lando), mpreg (lando, oscar), bear fucking (ollie), necrophilia (ollie),

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe,

summary :: driver!reader is the driver's teammate which is awesome! except the fact that you're a fucking pr disater who can't shut your mouth. platonic or romantic !

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

After moving to Williams, Carlos was terrified that you and him wouldn't click. But was quickly proven wrong as you were extremely open despite just meeting him. He knew everything about you... Too much...

Yet again, you were trapped in an interview that was seemingly never-ending. This interview was live on Sky Sports, meaning you both had to be extra careful and stay on for much longer than usual. Although Carlos was tired, you weren't. Yapping would have been your full time job if it wasn't for your skills in Formula.

"What is a secret you haven't told each other?" The interviewer asks, expecting something along the lines of 'I ate your ice-cream once' or 'I hate when you wear crocs'. Carlos was going to reply with something similar to that but you quickly jumped in.

"I wanna pee in the ice bath so bad" You said with a desperate tone, as if you were grieving the pain of not being able to bathe in your own piss. Carlos looked at you in shock.

"What?!" He asked, his shock turning to laughter to help cope. "But you never did right...?"

"Of course not holy shit." You say, disgusted he would think so lowly of you. "But I wanna see how my pee would react the muscle-relaxants and ice and shit. Like what if I become the Hulk but yellow-"

Quickly the camera were cut and the live stream ended before you could say more. You ruined an entire live stream with over 20,000 live viewers. From that moment, Carlos knew you two would be perfect together on this team.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Doing small interviews didn't bother Charles that much. He didn't mind talking and his fanbase was lovely. But once you became his new teammate at Ferrari, interviews were now 10 times more fun.

"Did you guys have any embarrassing childhood crushes?" The interviewer asked, finally giving you both non-racing related questions.

"Oh yes!" Charles said, excited to talk about himself. "Definitely Kristen Stewart haha! Not very embarrassing, but I did watch Twilight just for her."

"That's so valid" You said relaxed, "I think mine was probably 9."

Both Charles and the interviewer looked extremely confused. "From what show...?" The interviewer asked, assuming it was something like the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things.

Now you were confused as well, "Huh? There's no show." You repeated yourself. "9, as in the number... Like the circle and line."

"Oh..." The interviewer said, trying their best to find a way to segway this into the next question but they were cut off by Charles.

"No way," Charles said, "Maybe! MAYBE I could understand the number 8 but 9???" Now the interviewer was completely lost. "At least 8 has curves and a body, what does 9 have?"

"I know he's packin" You said with a grin "That little curved tail, curved UPWARDS? And the-"

Cameras off. Interviewers cutting you off. And Charles was deeply interested... This clip launches your duo name: Eight Eat Nine

Lando Norris | 04

"How are you helping (Y/N) adjust to being a new Papaya!" The interviewer asked innocently. Little did she know how much Lando has been enduring with you. Thankfully he recored it all and there would be a video posted to Youtube soon.

"Awful." Lando says before chuckling, almost more like a nervous break down chuckle. "Every day is hell with em' here."

"What???" The interviewer asked, thinking she got first-hand access to the newest gossip on the grid. "Did something happen?"

"YEAH." Lando said, simply nodding, not having the guts to say what you did. Thankfully, but not very thankfully to Lando, you walked into the interview after overhearing it.

"Yeah, what DID I do?" You ask, almost sounding threatening. "Don't make me show you again."

After weeks passed and rumors were rampant online. Rumors about you blackmailing him, overthrowing his family's business, kicking him out of Mclaren, and so so many more extreme rumors that you both were laughing at. Lando finally edited and posted his newest Youtube video: "Reading Fanfiction with (Y/N)!?"

Despite the thumbnail seeming like you two would be reading fan-fiction shipping you both together, instead, you found the most vile, borderline dark content, gay fics of Lando with a variety of drivers.

Thus, explaining the odd dynamic between you two. In reality, you both were perfectly fine and closer than ever. But you just wanted to play up the drama in order to rack up some views and tweets. It was awful for the PR team, but to you guys: it was funny.

Oscar Piastri | 81

oscarpiastri: got a tan and a new helmet: ready to destroy the next half of the 25' season! @.mclaren

→ yourusername: finish taking that shirt off. now.

→ yourusername: take off your pants too while your at it.

⎯→ user 01: OH MY GOD (Y/N)?????? UNDER A MCLAREN TAGGED POST TOO????

→ user 02: they're never ever going to beat the dating accusations

⎯→ yourusername: we're about to be dating once he comes home

→ user 03: thought i was a freak but (y/n)... u can have him

→ yourusername: my lovely wonder-bread, bend over for me.

⎯→ user 04: i thought this was a joke about his name sounding like pastry but she's just calling him white, isnt she

⎯→ user 05: that's her precious white chocolate delight

→ yourusername: gonna get ur fine ass pregnant

→ yourusername: raw. next question.

⎯→ user 06: i can't tell if she's tiktok typa horny or tumblr typa horny

⎯→ user 07: definitely tumblr...

No image. I'm not searching this shit up again.

Max Verstappen | 01

Tiktok is something Max tries to stay away from. Not that he hates the app, he'd just rather do something else with his time. But you, the newest and youngest driver on the grid, loved Tiktok. You were basically the marketing for Redbull despite your out of pocket videos at times.

And that included you coming up with the idea to have Max react to fans posts. An innocent idea that Max didn't mind filming content for, after all, he loved his fans. But you quickly were going to make him doubt that.

You were smart, showing him innocent tiktoks first. Fan art, cool edits, and even analysis on his best drives. As the video was coming to an end, you brought up the trend where drivers were compared to a food and a quote.

Often times Max was compared to a key lime pie, bell pepper, or an energy drink. But you then showed him THE strawberry slideshow. You knew what the ending was.

"Oh strawberry!" Max said, excited to finally get a sweet themed item. But as he swiped and saw the strawberries then coated with white chocolate, obviously implying something, he jumped back and gasped. "OH!!! Well, I didn't... I didn't expect that."

While you were dying, already posting it - he was traumatized.

Oliver Bearman | 87

Interviews were fun between you both, fans always loved it. Mainly because both of you can't keep your mouth shut. The only way to make your interviews even worse is to get Franco to join in with you guys.

But unlike Ollie's sassy comments, you asked stupid questions. Butt fuck stupid questions. Which Ollie always took serious. Think of Tom Holland answering the question about him "faking" being British or Theo Von's podcast vibes. It was the dumb American x understanding Brit duo.

So when you both were forced to create a "podcast" for Prema, aka a race preview, you both took full advantage of this time. You were supposed to be just folding laundry, but almost nothing got folded. It was just yapping and yapping.

"I got a question," You say, attempting to fold a shirt but doing awful at it.

"Hmm?" Ollie replied, picking up the shirt you just folded and undoing it. Only to fold it properly himself.

"Why is your name Bearman?" You ask. "Cause like, I know British people got like, My Little Pony names. Like how people named Smith's were blacksmiths and stuff."

"Oh well," Ollie paused to think, "I dunno actually. It's from my great grandpa so."

"Did he fuck a bear or something?" You ask, nonchalantly while Ollie instantly is confused. "Cause lowkey, back in the day I bet Bearman was a slur."

"No..." Ollie hesitated, "I highly doubt my grandpa fucked a bear. I think we probably just hunted bears-"

"So you're a family of necrophiles?" You shake your head, "That's just wrong man."

"I never said that-"

Paul Aron | 17

paularon_: Went for a run, in Italy, with a film camera🇮🇹🎥

→ yourusername: is it say yes to the dress or say yes to the SLUT???

→ yourusername: is this your soft launch for your only fans?

⎯→ user 01: i'd so buy it tbh

→ yourusername: pepemartiofficial kimi.antonelli olliebearman jakcrawford_ zane.maloney isackhadjar dennis_hauger

⎯→ paularon_: why are you @ ing the whole grid

⎯→ yourusername: to slut shame you

→ pepemartiofficial: did you lose your shirt over the summer?

→ olliebearman: go eat a burger (save somes baddies for the rest of us)

→ jakcrawford_: we get it, ur buff with a huge dick

⎯→ user 02:: how do u know that…

⎯→ yourusername: I can vouch for

→ isackhadjar: put a bra on slut

⎯→ yourusername: I don’t even think mines will fit him

[rottedsinner]

everyone is entitled to their own opinions lemme start off by saying that.

but I feel like this is more nuanced than a lot of people may think. I've briefly looked through the notes and it seems like some people aren't giving this enough thought. and that they’re a bit blinded by this black and white mentality.

I think it is totally possible for friends to not speak to one another for good chunks of time. whether or not they're struggling with mental illnesses. I think just about everyone is burnt out and surviving right now, so it can be difficult for anyone to reach out and be involved in another person's life when all their time and energy is being spent on ensuring their own well-being.

that being said, not all friendships are the same. you may think being able to go a long amount of time without being in each other's lives is a sign of maturity, of being an adult.

but I don't see that as an indication of maturity, i just think people have different boundaries and preferences when it comes to friendships/relationships.

you can't fault somebody for not tolerating this type of behavior, it's fair for them to feel some type of way and that doesn't make them immature or childish. Just because it wouldn't affect you if a friend went mia and then wanted back into your life, doesn't mean it wouldn't affect anyone.

I just think it depends on the context, for example I have 2 friends, both of which have mental illnesses and are employed. They've both gone weeks without reaching out or responding to me. And I don't fault them for it because I know they're incredibly busy and I've gone days and weeks without responding also.

But one of them lives on the other side of the country and the other lives in my neighborhood. I'm more understanding and empathetic towards my friend who lives further away. Not just because of the distance but because we've been friends for a little longer and because she's navigating motherhood.

Somehow though it's harder to feel the same way with my friend who lives close by. We've been friends since highschool and naturally after graduation life got busier and harder. She's told me more than once that she enjoys our friendship BECAUSE we're able to reconnect after not seeing each other in person for months. She's even called me and introduced me to other people as her best friend. But I don't feel the same way, I think a friendship is more than reaching out every couple of weeks/months. Friends experience life together, not recap their lives every other month. And during these routine recaps, she uses most of the time to rant at me about her problems. Problems I've heard a million times before and they mostly involve her toxic girlfriend.

Now this kind of friendship is draining and exhausting. While the dynamic between me and my long distance friend is much more pleasant and tolerable. She's been in my life since I was 13 and I'm grateful and amazed we've been in contact this whole time. Even though I've been more reserved lately in general I know she's someone I can go to and if she has the time she'll gladly lend me a listening ear.

To be fair though in regards to the friend I was complaining about, she is kind and has shown me more grace and understanding then I probably deserve. I did consider her to be my best friend once, but like op said adulthood is hard, people and circumstances change. The reason I'm still friends with her is because we do have fun together, we've shared a lot of great memories and she's done a lot for me. We're both loyal people to a fault. I do hope things between us get better and that life gets easier.

I think one of the kindest things you can do for people with various mental health struggles is just... let people back into your life after they've been absent for a while.

Making friends as an adult is so fucking hard already and isolating yourself from other people is a very common symptom of depression, anxiety, burnout, ocd, trauma, grief, etc. Which means that someone will do the hard work of recovery/healing and resurface back into a world where their previous friends have written them off because they stopped showing up.

So if you know someone where you're like "yeah we could have been better friends but they fell off the map a bit" and that person suddenly reaches out, or starts showing up to events even though you kind of forgot they were still in the group chat... well they may have been Going Through It and you don't actually have to punish them for their absence you can just be glad that they're back.

[hyukascampfire]

IT WIŁŁ COME BAC₭ ⠀,, k.th

it’s a small world. you knew this, but you came to really believe it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help. ִֶָ. ´-

⸺ listen to the playlist

ㅤㅤ៶ㅤ ( 🗝️ ) ･ 6.9k

𝖕airings ˒ yandere!taehyun 𝑥 reader

ℊ ; smut ˒ thriller ˒ yandere

𝖜arnings ˒ dubcon!!, baby trapping, dark & yandere themes, taehyun has a warped view of the world, doggy, rough sex, mentions of breeding, stalking, he’s slightly off putting, possessiveness & jealousy… duh!, hard dom!taehyun, nasty freaky stuff, corruption but like not conventionally?, unprotected sex, mentions of not taking birth control, creampie, biting and hickeys, obsession, DDNE please read these and decide for yourself if you’re comfortable reading! let me know if i’ve missed any tags.

✎୭ ashlynn's note this one is a delicious gift from 🍵 anon!!! i’ve never gone this dark. IM KINDA NERVOUS. i really hope you like it!! please let me know if i miss any tags!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

“Taehyun?”

The man turns around, brow pinched and eyes searching for who’d said his name. When those sharp, intelligent eyes land on you, familiarity passes over them. In the black, there’s a shine, and the shape of them softens into something else; something you’re more used to, on him.

“Hey,” he says. His arms are full of supplies and groceries. Knitting his strong brows together, he says, “What are you doing out here?”

You toss the chips you’d been grabbing before you noticed him into your cart. It falls with a crinkle down onto the mountain of other snacks just like it. You should probably pick up some real food, too. The others shouldn’t have made food your job. If it was up to you, the cabinets would be stuffed with an array of quick snacks. Cooking isn’t really your strong suit. 

“I’m gonna spend a few nights at a cabin here with some friends. We wanted to find some snow, since it never snows back home,” you say, and then you laugh at the absurdity of finding someone from your hometown all the way out here. What are the odds of that? Especially since everybody graduated and scattered out into their own moving lives. “What are you doing out here?”

He reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, an easy smile on his lips. The sight of it brings back memories.

Taehyun and you had not been the closest in high school. You were in different crowds, and he kept to his own anyway. But the few times you two did interact, by some assigned group project or an incidental brief exchanging of words, he was nice enough. 

He changed a lot, though. If someone were to ask you yesterday if you remember him from school, the image you would’ve imagined is at stark odds with the man standing  in front of you now. Where the long, lanky limbs and unsure demeanor of a boy once was, there is now all the confidence of a man. The angles of him are sharper, more defined and chiseled. And, his shoulders… He’s gotten broader, too. The butterflies in your belly are strange; It’s strange feeling like this over a man you might not have looked twice at years ago. He wasn’t ugly by any means, back then. You just… had an eye out for other things. Your palate was different.

He answers, “Touché.” Stepping back, he lets another customer push their cart through the gap between you. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What have you been up to? Back home for break? It seems like everybody from school moved on. It’s nice seeing someone from our class.”

It’s not an answer to your question, but the snow gear and thick jackets in his arms tell you enough. He’s seeking snow, too. Snow birding is really the only way that you might see snow, here. Snow really only ever comes to the mountain peaks. Speaking up over some storewide announcement that makes the bustle around you impossibly louder, you say, “Oh my god, right? That’s what I was just thinking.” You make your tone light—the kind of saturated sweetness that comes with small talk, all manufactured and stilted. It’s not necessarily awkward; you just are clumsy with this kind of conversation. You just ramble to fill the space. “I… Just have been working. Never went to school. Did I tell you that you look good? What have you been up to?”

For a moment, you think you see a glimpse of something… strange pass over his eyes. Something that makes you feel weird—one of those hair-rising feelings that you cannot explain, but feel innately to your core. A primal hunger being fed, a twitching of his lips, as though vindicated. It’s gone in nothing more than a blink of an eye, and barely even was there in the first place. You’ve got a mushy brain from driving all day, anyway. What a strange thing for your mind to make up, though.

“Nothing much. Work for me, too,” he says, shrugging. “Finally got the chance to get away from it, and decided to come out here.”

Another shopper comes shoving themselves between you. Clearly, your catching up is an obstruction on their very important, very urgent shopping trip. Taking the hint, you tell Taehyun, “I get it, believe me. But…” You gesture at your groceries. “I’ve gotta finish up shopping before everybody gets here. It was nice seeing you! I wish I could linger, really.”

He offers you an easy smile, letting his crossed arms fall away from his chest and shaking his head. “No big deal. I’ve got some stuff to pick up, too. Have a nice one, yeah? Don’t get caught in the blizzard, or anything.”

Snorting, you dip your head  goodbye and say, “I’ll try not to.”

❅

The hardwood floors creak beneath your flustered pacing. “Are you serious? How long is it gonna be?”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t expect someone to slash our fucking tires?” Your friend’s voice cuts in and out through the speakers, one of the few hollow sounds in the cabin. Aside from you and the decor, it’s empty. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck out there, but there’s nothing we can do. You’re going to have to wait it out for a few days. At least until we can get there.”

Gritting your teeth, you give her a tactful Okay, bye, and thumb the big red button. The sound of the call ending echoes, too. Curling your arms around yourself, the whole place feels big and haunting. The howling of whipping wind and snow against the windows doesn’t help.

Someone had slashed their tires, and now you’re going to be here alone. For days. If being alone wasn’t already making knots of your belly, that was. It’s startling: going out of your way to slash someone's tires, but making no attempts at stealing the car or anything in it. Either it’s personal, or somebody just wanted to ruin somebody else’s day. Both leave a sour taste in your mouth.

Your every limb goes rigid at a thump, and in the corner of your eye, there’s movement. When you whip your head to look fully in that direction, all that moves in the window is snow like haze and the trees bending in the same violent wind. Nothing but night and the storm.

Beside yourself, you inch toward the window to look closer. Tugging a thick, willowy curtain to one side, you do a scan.

Sat in the snow, dusting over with heavy white flakes as you look, are a pair of glasses. You are not stupid enough to go out and get a closer look. 

❅

With the fireplace roaring, the place doesn’t feel so empty. 

You waited all day for the snow to stop coming down so hard. If you’re going to be alone here for days, you want to go out and spend the daylight away around other people.

Really, you just don’t want to be in this cabin all by yourself. You have a bad feeling. It;s unfounded, maybe. But you do.

The snow does not stop falling, and the wind does not stop blowing it into thick piles. It’s everywhere: the whole entire yard is coating thick with it, and so is your car. Could you even drive away in this, if you needed to? Maybe after thirty minutes of plowing snow. You’ve at least kicked enough of it away from the porch to open the door.

At some point, hope for doing anything but toiling around in here dwindled away. With what embers of excitement for vacation you have left, you tugged on some knitted socks and played Christmas classics off your phone.

You’re still playing them as you decide to cook something up. You’re not the best cook, but what do you have to lose? It’ll only be you eating it. If it goes awry, you’ve still got snacks to make into a meal. 

The kitchen comes alive while you work. You tug out all the pots and pans that the cabin owners provide, clicking the stove on while you dance and hum along to the songs that you’d seemingly come out of the womb knowing. Pulling the fridge open to the song of Silver Bells, you decide on something ambitious and set ingredients out over the counters. 

You don’t even get to slicing before there’s a knock at the door. Three very solid, very resounding knocks. The knife makes a clattering sound as you let it drop to the cutting board.

There shouldn’t be anybody out here. Maybe your friends got the car up and running, and forgot to let you know. Your heart thrums a wild, crashing beat, as you swipe your phone up to shoot a quick text.

At the top of a screen, a text comes in from an unknown number. Your belly does a frantic swoop, a thousand different thoughts swarming and shoving to be the one at the forefront of your mind. 

+1 [678-999-8212]

Hey, it’s Taehyun.

+1 [678-999-8212]

I’m sorry if this is weird, but I’m the one who just knocked at your door. I wanted to hike up to my cabin but I’m lost as hell right now, and recognized your car outside

+1 [678-999-8212]

Thought it would be better to ask you for help instead of a random.

You take a moment to blink at the glow of the screen. Taehyun was the one knocking on your door? That both settles you and kicks up more questions. What are the odds that you both rented out cabins from the same people? The world is small; you’re reminded that a lot, these days. 

Sliding your phone into your back pocket, you head for the door. He’s got to be freezing. It’s coming down hard out there.

The door swings open to Taehyun’s face just as frost-glazed as you expected. His jaw chatters and his nose and cheeks are a deep, winter-pink. Despite it, his mouth pulls into a friendly smile—the kind that illustrates in the humorous corners that he is aware of the absurdity of his situation, as well. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, a thick winter jacket zipped up to the top dusted at the shoulders with fat snowflakes just the same as on top of his coal-black hair.

“Oh my god,” you say. A laugh seeps through the cracks. “I’ve got the fireplace going hot. Do you wanna come in? How long have you been out there?” Stepping to one side, you offer him entry into your home. Temporary home, that is. 

He tries to rein in the shivers, you can see it in the smile he’s got plastered on his face and the way he buzzes and trembles around the edges like the bitter cold is trying to push against his skin and escape him. “If it doesn’t bother you,” he says, stepping in past you. When he passes, thick in the air, he smells like smoke and the dark woods—it’s musky and familiar, but also haunting in the way that the wilder edges of a forest could be. 

He smells nice. Really nice. The kind of blend of manly musk and cologne that makes a woman look twice. It makes you look twice as he passes, at least.

Him standing there now, eyes roving over the cabin’s wood walls and the knitted blankets and the fire whispering from the living room, you realize how strange it is to be here with an old classmate that you haven’t seen for at least three years. How awkward it is. 

“It doesn’t bother me at all. You did scare me a bit, though,” you say, shooing the wispy chill away with a close of the door. “I’d rather you not freeze to death out there. It’s, like, ten degrees.” You tuck your arms across your chest. “What made you go hiking in this? It’s been nasty today. I haven’t even been able to leave.”

His cheek twitches with a dimple. Even back in school, you noticed that. Then, it’d fit right into his face. Now, it’s a delicious contrast against his angled face. “Sorry I scared you. I knew it’d be weird, but… Yeah, I was freezing out there. I seriously thought I was going to die.” Hair brushes over his eyes, their cunning and sharpness something that draws you in. Like two swirling, black pools of swirling water, they beckon you in a way that you can’t quite digest. “It wasn’t too bad down by the car, and I didn’t know there was a whole damn trail up here, so I… yeah. It got bad.”

Snorting, you nod. “I bet.” You’re not sure what else to say; your mind freezes over in an impermeable frost. You tap around with a pick to try and find words, but there’s no getting through it. You hardly know him. What do you talk about? What are you going to talk about, considering the fact that he’s no doubt going to be here for some time? Until it stops blizzarding so hard outside, at least. 

Charging through the tense moment with a brassiness that you do not remember him carrying back then, Taehyun nods a gesture toward the kitchen and the dinner you’d been in the middle of making. “Making something?” he says. The low, warm light of the cabin washes over him and make his face something cozier than it’d been standing frozen at your front door. It also makes a show of the angles of his cheek as it turns, and the tall line of his nose. Something on him is missing. You can’t capture the notion or put your finger on it, but somewhere in the depths of memory, you feel like there was something there that isn’t here with him now. Maybe it’s a different styling of his hair from the last time you saw him, wind-swept as it is now. Or maybe you’re just stir-crazy. 

“Yeah.” You nod, watching in place as he ventures into the kitchen. Narrowing your eyes down, you try to pinpoint the thought. Is it something small? A pair of earrings? “I was gonna cook up something warm for dinner, but I’m not the best cook. I don’t burn anything, but… it’s never great, you know?”

Taehyun tugs his jacket off his arms, and you confirm that it’s not a certain jacket or something. “I’ll help,” he says, discarding the heavy thing. “Make myself useful.”

“Oh!” you say, bringing your hands together in realization. “Are you not wearing your glasses? Holy shit, I’ve been staring at you thinking something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was.” 

He furrows his brows, corners of his mouth twitching. The look passes over his face in nothing more than a split-second, before something else plasters over it. He crinkles his nose and says, “Huh. I didn’t even notice…” The knife you’d left to let him in glints as he picks it up to assume where you’d left off. “Didn’t you say that you were here with some friends? Is everybody asleep already?”

You trace the lines of his face where those brown glasses had rested the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve forgotten them in his cabin this morning, or something, before he went out. You grab a pot and fill it over the sink for noodles. “Actually, they all got caught up back home. It’s literally just me here for days. I’ve been so bored.” Over your shoulder, you add, “I’m just making some fettuccine and chicken.”

“Caught up?” he says, voice casual and occupied. The sound of the knife against the cutting board as he slices follow his words.

“Yeah. Someone messed their car up bad… Like, knife to the tires and the windows were smashed in all over the seats. It was fucking terrifying.” Clicking the stove on, you set the pot to boil. 

Taehyun doesn’t answer for a few minutes. You look over your shoulder and find him working in the chicken still. He answers, his eyes dragging up to you for a quick moment before making sure he doesn’t cut a finger off, “Did they steal anything?”

Turning to him fully as you wait for the water to bubble and turn over, you say, “That’s the weird thing. They didn’t steal or anything, they just fucked it up and… left.”

“Huh,” he says, furrowing his strong brow down at his working hands. “Yeah, that’s weird. That’s some personal shit. Maybe someone had a shit day.” The end comes out around a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.” You crack open the cardboard flaps and pour the noodles into the pot. “Still… scary.”

Taehyun takes over the cooking, and you’re happy to entrust dinner to him. He works diligently, and the sight of his back as he stirs and chops and seasons—it’s mouth-watering. This way, you can fully admire him as he does. You’re not much help, anyway. Instead, you just start the gentle hum of Christmas music once more and stay out of his way. The sound of 

It’s nice to have somebody here. The howling of the wind and the echoing of your own movements back to you has started to become haunting. Maybe having Taehyun here is a bit unconventional, and it really should be your friends here with you, but having him here is the better outcome than some creep being the one knocking at your door. It’s nice to have him here in case that does happen, too.

It’s not like he’s bad company, or anything, either.

When the entirety of the cabin is full with the smell of warm dinner and your conversation, you swoop back in to offer help with something you can manage. Stepping beside him, indulging in his rich scent once more, you plate the dinner he’d made for you. Steam dances up from it and beckons your tastebuds. “You’re, like, a Michelin chef. What the hell? Thank you.”

He doesn’t answer, and in the corner of your eye, you catch his knuckles going white around the counter’s edge where he leans his weight into the arm. Frowning, you go to look up at him.

It leaves his face when you catch it, but you find him looking down at you… different again. Darker, as though the pupils at the center have grown hungry and eaten up the chocolate there. You think you see his jaw tightening and a hard swallow bobbing in his throat, too. His face is so close like this, you can see the plush turn to his lips and the darkness beneath his eyes, and even the chap of his lips.

Flustering, you take a step back and do your work there. You’d stepped way too close to him. Does he think you’re weird? You’ve always been the type with a scarce personal bubble; you forget that others don’t work the same.

“It’s nothing much,” he finally says. It’s cool and collected once more. “I make this all the time. It’s one of my favorites.”

Handing him his plateful, the chicken glistening with glaze and the noodles a swirl of cream and garnish, you say, “You’ll have to write down the recipe for me, or something. I totally want to make it for myself.”

Accepting it with another easy grin, he says, “Yeah, sure.” He forks a bit of chicken off the plate.

The smile does not reach his eyes.

❅

The longer you look at it, the worse the feeling gets.  Black and scrawled in wobbling lines, jagged and dark in places where he’d gone over a line a few times, you just… feel like you’ve seen it all before. It’s a smokey, tainted memory, far-off and obscured no matter how you squint your eyes.

Why do you remember it? Why does the sight of it crawl like dread under your skin and wilt? Sure, you went to school with Taehyun, but you don’t really think recognizing his handwriting should feel like this. Who even pays attention to the handwriting of somebody you interacted with once or twice, anyway?

God. You are dramatic. You kick your legs out of the comforter, swelteringly thick and quilted with a gaudy winter pattern of reds and browns and whites, and fold up the paper to place it on the darkwood bedside table.

The click of you flicking the white switch on echoes off the bathroom’s tiled walls. You reach for your toothbrush on the counter, and then the world goes dark around you.

You freeze, eyes frantically blinking and straining against the blackness to adjust. The power had gone out. There’s a few beats of you stricken in place, toothbrush in hand, thrown for a loop.

Then, the whole cabin goes out as the power to the heater dies, too. You swear. 

Your journey down the hallway is a stumbling of legs and the grooves of the wood-paneled walls against your fingertips. It’s the pitch black of night out here, too. The only thing you can see is the static that fills up the gaps when it’s dark. “Taehyun?” you say. Is he asleep already? You don’t even know where the room he’d taken for the night is, relative to where you are now.

Nothing answers you for a few moments, and then from an opening door, light floods like a miracle. The shape of him, the light from his phone’s flashlight just enough to dimly illuminate his features, comforts you. His hair is ruffled, like he’d just drug himself from bed.

“Power went out,” he says. It’s awfully loud, now that you two are the only sounds in here. 

“Yeah, I think I just had a little heart attack. I was up brushing my teeth.” Why hadn’t you thought to use your phone’s light? “The heater… We’re gonna freeze to death. Do you think they have a generator, or something? The fireplace doesn’t really do much…”

He features glow in as he moves the phone. “Mine didn’t. It’s fine, my room’s got a fireplace in it. We can close the door and get it warm in there.”

“Better than nothing,” you say, shrugging and following him in.

You plop on his bed, the surface of it cold and plush, while he works on kindling a fire. “This is, like, nowhere near where I thought I’d be for vacation.”

He readjusts the logs, dry and perfect for burning, into a point. Poking and prodding, Taehyun says, “Not having fun?”

You snort at the dry and flat delivery. “Friends haven’t even gotten back to me, I’m snowed in, and I’m locked in here with a total stranger.” You draw out the last word as a joke, your smile painting the tone playful, but it’s the truth. You don’t know Taehyun one bit. It’s just as strange and unpredictable as the other things on the list of things that have gone awry. “I guess I had a good dinner, so I can’t be complaining too much.”

Curling up to his full height, he takes a knee and settles into the bed beside you. “Make some room for this stranger, won’t you? We should probably try to use our body heat.”

Laughing, you go to say something to rift off his joke. It dies in your throat when he doesn’t join you. In an awkward sort of panic, you wince and say, “Yeah, it’s cold as hell. We’re gonna freeze to death in our sleep.”

And, ridiculously, you crawl under the covers. You don’t know why you do it; maybe it’s because he’s completely serious and watching you, or maybe because it’s true that you might actually get so cold in your sleep that you die if you don’t. Either way, you do. You don’t know which way to settle: facing him or with your back turned to him. Both are strange, but which is stranger?

Facing him, you decide that turning your back to him just doesn’t settle in your soul right.

“Weird night,” he says, sliding himself under the blanket’s covering. The same blanket that you lay in. “But…” he says, eyes flickering over you laid there. He looks as though he’s going to say something else, but he decides against it. “Good night.”

He does you a favor and turns his back to you.

❅

Night still holds the world in its claws when your eyes flutter open.

You shift to try and find that perfect position that’ll lull you back into sleep, slipping your legs over the sheets and shifting your cheek against your arm and wiggling your hips against the solid pressure behind you.

The pressure behind you. Stilling, your eyes fly open.

The weight of Taehyun behind you, his chest rising and falling, and the warmth of him, pierce through sleep’s haze like a white-hot knife. You’re all the way on his side of the bed, pressing your bottom into him. Shame creeps its wicked way from your chest and then out through your skin, blazing the skin of your cheeks. You push up on an elbow to scoot back to your side of the bed as slow and covertly as you can manage.

Fingers like teeth, biting the skin of your waist, stop you. Your heart jumps.

“Don’t move.” Taehyun’s breath and words curl out over the juncture of your neck like a chill. He lets you sit in that for a moment, your heart thumping like a frightened bird in a cage, before he says, “It’s weird. Weird that when I suggested you sleep in my bed, you looked so nervous. But, look where you are now.”

Your voice comes out strangled. “I’m sorry.”

When his palm slides down from your waist to brush over your belly, you begin to think that it’s not an apology that he wants. Your stomach does untamed dips and rolls. It’d been the cold that you were afraid of, but now it’s the blistering heat that blooms where his touch goes that grips you. 

“That didn’t take very long.”  Like a trail of growing, raging fire, he takes that hand and brings it down the lengths of your body. Over your hip, and then down the supple curve of your ass, and then down the back of your thighs, where he toys with the notion of slipping it between the seam there. “It never did take much for you to give those men your body. Give them what was mine. Don’t worry, I’ll make it right. I’ll make you right.”

Your mind turns over itself, a thousand stray, blinding thoughts bursting at the seams and all asking for your attention. You don’t know which to start with; you don’t have the slightest clue what he means. Asking any of them out loud seems absurd, and the notion crumbles to dust when he brings his arm down your front to cup your heat.

“Face in the bed, ass up.” He commands it in your ear like ice: absolute and biting. “It’s how you like it, isn’t it?”

Doggy is how you like it. You don’t know how Taehyun would know that. What you do know, though, is the way the simple words kindle hungry fire in your cunt. Dragging yourself from the heat of the mattress in a bleary, glazed-over mess of limbs, you paint yourself into an obscene picture: your cheek presses into the mattress, blazing with disbelief, your eyes wide and gone and the mess of your hair obscuring them, and your back the delicate arch of sex and sinfulness as you display your ass high in the air for him.

When you look at him to see how he likes it, you don’t find the man that you saw in the grocery store, nor the man that you let into your cabin. The look you find, vacant and overflowing with an untamed hunger, raises the hair on your skin. It’s off. 

“Taehyun,” you say. It’s really just to speak—you don’t have words. 

He runs a hand down the curve of your back. His voice comes from behind you, now. “This should’ve been just mine. But you never did look my way, did you?” Your body jumps when his hands find your hips and the fabric in the way of your skin there. Hooking his thumbs under both the waistband of your bottoms and your panties, he drags them down your thighs in a slow crawl. Each inch of blazing skin bared to the air tingles against the cold and under his gaze as you feel his eyes eat it up. 

That’s what his eyes do: they eat and they eat, taking up the space around them like ever-hungry blackholes until there is nothing but their absence of light and their heaviness. That was the pull you remember in the store—a force like gravity beckoning a perverse finger at you and leaving you nowhere to go but toward him.

He pulls the fabric until it’s bunched at your knees. Prodding a finger, just the very end of it, at your hole. You flutter around it, belly turning. “Why didn’t you look my way?” he asks. The rustling of him working on his pants has you twitching and shifting hot against the covers. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You’re only able to choke out the words, heart jumping up into your throat as he takes his hand up your back, pins and needles following his path and pushes your head into the mattress by the back of the neck.

Breath hot over your cheek, he says, “Is this what you want? To be fucked like an animal?” You know he means the position. Your mouth goes dry. “You’re better than that. But, if it’s what you like, I’ll fuck you like it.”

You have a thought. It’s fleeting and fuzzy like the rest of your mind, but you catch it just long enough to turn it over once. When you’d seen Taehyun, you were struck by how he looked more like the kind of guy you might go after than the lanky, off-putting one you remember. And, now he’s set on how you like to get fucked.

The tip of his cock at your entrance sends the thought to smoke and the aftermath clogs your cognitive function. Your mouth falls open as he presses some inches in, slow and enriching. But then he pulls the slight length out to collect some slick and tap his cockhead to your clit. You jolt against the sheets.

When he slides back in this time, he makes sure to brush your hair out of your face to watch every last inch of you taking him reflected in the furrowing of your brows and the glassiness of your eyes and the pink of your cheeks.

He stills when he reaches the hilt, his hips flush to your ass, his shadow falling over you as he leans to bring his ear to your mouth. “You should’ve looked my way. Things could’ve been so different. It’s okay—I’ll make you realize. I know who you really are. I’ll wash this all away and clean you up and make you good again.”

He doesn’t leave space for words or thought. Not enough for you to taste the rust like rot over his iron words. Planting his heels on the bed and shoving your face further into the bed, he starts his hips in a rhythm that has your breaths stuttering and achy wines clawing out from the prison of your chest. He does not move precisely, nor is the bucking of his hips pointed, but it’s a crashing sort of ruin. It doesn’t matter if he finds that spot inside of you. He’s going to consume your every sense: he steals the taste in your mouth and replaces it with himself, steals your hearing with his pants and grunts, steals your sight as his cock twists your insides up, and steals your ability to feel anything but him. He steals your breath, too. Just as a wicked little souvenir. 

“Hhh—fuck, Taehyun, holy shit,” you say. A procession of crude and mewled cries come tumbling out your mouth after your words. No matter now you filter your sounds to try and maintain your decency, he just drags them from you anyway. 

Bringing his hand up to splay his hand over the entirety of the back of your head rather than the delicate back of your neck, he grits out, “Filthy-fucking-mouth.” He punctuates the words with a hollow smack of his skin against your ass. It’s the sound of sex incarnate—your skin burns hearing it clashing against the rest of your debased sounds. “And it’s just for me, now. Isn’t that fucking great? None of those vile pigs are gonna touch what’s mine again. Not after this. You—” His voice tightens when a certain spot he nudges in your cunt sends it clinging to him and sucking him back in at every return. “You were really testing the limits to my patience. Do you know that?” He drags his hand over your face, smearing obscenity over you with just his tainted touch. “Of course you fucking don’t. You don’t notice shit. It’s why you let this world walk all over you. It’s why you need me.”

As hard and fast as he fucks you, he doesn’t exchange full strokes for it. He pulls completely out of you each time he snaps his hips back, and then meets your ass in burning collisions when he slips his cock right back into you. You struggle for breath, trying to feed your oxygen-starved brain to contend with his snarled preaching. Never once do you catch a full chest of air, though. It turns your thoughts liquid, stupid and simple. “Taehyun—Taehyun,” you say, throat tight. The sheets are stifling against your clammy skin, and the hair around your neck is damp. You take fistfuls of the bunches fabric and his other hand on your hip to ground yourself. 

You are beyond grounding. All that floats in your head, one bare thought, is the beginnings of terrifying tightness in your lower belly. Only the sharpest things shove through the shadow permeating your mind. Nip. Bite. He drags his teeth over the soft curves of your shoulders and the expanse of your back. Anywhere he can reach, really. His mouth paints you in aching splotches—the kind that will speak of him should anybody other see your body. The kind that speaks already of who they belong to. You eyes and throat burn.

Taehyun brings that hand he’d been molding into the fat of your hip and curls the muscle-corder forearm across both of your hip bones. A bar. A cage. His solid chest works similarly as he blankets himself over you, speaking into your wild tousle of hair. “Fuck–Gonna cum now.” The friction of his cock against your walls becomes something more unpredictable. The tightening of that knot, just on the verge of a snap that might reverberate through you and crush you into nothing more than bitten flesh and eroded virtue, sits on the horizon. It’s a terrifying thing to be rushing toward. “A—and then they’ll realize that you’re mine. They’ll never put their goddamn hands on you again. Not when your body will have me written all over it.” You can hear the tightness of his gritted jaw, the words seething like black, festering corruption. They fall over your skin and taint you, too. No longer do you shake and tremble against him with innocent little squeaks. Gilt with his words as he speaks them, your body stiffens and your cries go hoarse and pitiful. You try not to think about how you sound. “Isn’t it so good? We’re perfect together. You’re perfect underneath me. Do you know how many—how many times I fucked my fist thinking about you like this? All I ever wanted was for you to realize that we are so much better than the rest of them. It’s always meant to be us. Why did you let them touch you? Dirty your skin?”

All you manage is a heaved cry. He pins you to the mattress and begins fucking you into it. In the black of your eyelids, you watch purity go to dust.

“Take my load, baby. Stay still,” he says. His voice goes soft, like whispers. Like he’s gotten everything he’s wanted, now. 

You squirm beneath the weight of him, hips reining against the arm he holds you there by the hips with. Alarm bells ring, booming and thunderous, but in this state of mind, they sound like the music of climax. To the beat of the bells and his hips, blazing through your reddened bottom and your utter inability to breathe, you go tumbling toward that terrifying release. 

Taehyun’s steadfast pace stutters. “It’s okay,” he tells you, clearing your clammy face of hair once more. His face is right in yours, his eyes heavy and consumptive. “Just let it happen. I’m gonna breed you up, and then it’ll be forever. We’ll be forever. Can’t let you get away again. Not when I’ve got you now. I need you to take it. Can you do that for me?”

Managing one last mhm, all your sounds catch in your throat. You stop meeting halfway, muscles twisting and turning and raging against the profound, terrible wash of it. Eyes flying open, your cunt clings to him, insides fluttering and rippling in a way that begins delightfully, but toes the line of dreadful as his cock continues to tighten them further. Lightning strikes from your core, crawling and crackling from it. It moves your thighs, convulsing them in tandem with the same release wreaking havoc in your stomach.

Cursing low in your ear, he fucks you frantically, fingers planted on your hips. His cock twitches against you a few times, and then the arm he’s supporting himself on collapses down to the elbow and he’s pinning you and shooting white-hot cum right into you. Your shoulder takes the imprint of his cheek as he nips the shoulder he hangs over. His hips twitch, rolling to ride out his high with deep, chesty groans, and then jumping up to spurt a little bit more into you. His panted breaths fall against your skin like fire. 

You blink bleariness away from your eyes. For a few long minutes, that’s all you do. Your chest races so much so that you feel the pulse in your neck and the thumping of it where it rests. Your insides are liquid and intangible, blood slow just as slow as your thoughts.

When reality seeps back through your veins, though, Taehyun’s tugging his chest from your sweaty meeting of bodies. His fingers dig right into the reddened skin where his hips had abused your bottom to hold you open. To view you, and the slow oozing of his seed from your hole. The weight of his gaze sends you fluttering. With the movement of your hole, more of the hot and thickness comes seeping out, slow like molten passion down the shape of your slit and then over your clit and then dripping down onto the bed from you.

The feel of it has you swallowing hard. Holy shit, you are stupid. So painfully stupid. So, you’re just letting men cum inside while you’re not on birth control, now? Ones that you haven’t seen since school? Ones that talk like… that?

Tapping your thigh and pressing a hot kiss to your outer hip, Taehyun says, “I’m gonna go check the breakers. You take it easy here for a second.”

Whiplashed, you nod. There goes that pristine, normal mask again. You watch him go, heaving yourself up from the nasty bedding to be greeted by the musk of sex humid in the air. You think a thousand little thoughts, watching the wall as you go far away in your mind.

Everything that he said… That was not just a little weird, or a little kinky. It was bone-chilling. The taste in your mouth, still tainted by him, sours.

You pull out your phone. Pressing it to your ear, your blood runs sluggish still. 

The cabin owner’s voice comes staticky through the speakers, asking you what you need help with. You ask about the power outage and where the breaker might be, debriefing him on Taehyun ending up here because he wasn’t able to make it to his own cabin, and how you think that the storm outside might be why the power’s gone out.

The cabin owner’s answer makes you pale.

It’s not a crashing realization. Not a thundering storm reaching its climax, nor a firework plasma and explosive at its center but flashy as it sparkles, nor a searing knife to the gut. It’s a slow, dreadful feeling, sinking to the depths of the ocean with a weight around your ankle and the realization that there is no getting back to the surface. It is drowning with water in your lungs, knowing that you swallowed that water down. 

You know why you recognize that hand writing, and you know why Taehyun was missing his glasses, and you know why he had your number even though you have no connections, and you know why he was able to find your cabin by your car despite never having seen it, and you know why your friends never made it here. He, long and spindly legged, the spider, did not even panic when you grazed by the hints toward what he really was. You were all ready in his web, anyway. All he had to do was wait it out and watch you, caught, oblivious, squirm. And, squirm you did.

“What other cabin?” 

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! i’m sorry this one came out later, i had to make that ending tie up well.

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[ridingtorohan]

Could you write how the crew would react to the reader saying something sexual out of the blue?

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. nothing sexually explicit. pre-relationship for all of them.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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It takes a few seconds for him to process it; it's interjected in the middle of the conversation so seamlessly that it takes Curly to even realize what you said.

"Let's try to keep this professional, alright?"

Later, when you walk away you can swear that you heard him let out a choked laugh.

Curly thinks it's amusing as hell, honestly, and is a little tickled that you're comfortable enough to make those kinds of comments with him. The captain. He's used to people toe'ing around him because of his status so this is a real breath of fresh air.

Grins really wide if it's sexual comments targeting him (like his looks, or something). But he won't reciprocate (yet).

However, saying it in front of the others is the definite way for him to shut it down fast. It's one thing if it's with him, it's another to do it in front of other people.

Misses those remarks terribly if you stop altogether.

The conversation dies right there with Jimmy giving you a dead man stare, eyebrows low on his face. "Seriously?" he'd ask with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. Otherwise, he doesn't say anything about it.

He pointedly goes back to the conversation before your ''rude'' interruption.

He definitely pocketed that for later.

The first time he does it is in passing, some kind of innuendo as he strides past, hands in his pockets as he makes his way to the cockpit.

He likes to see you get flustered or ansty though, so Jimmy will try his best to say it outright, to your face.

Absolutely does not care who overhears; you started it, so it's fair game, yeah?

It's rare for him to get flustered but he'll probably get pissy about it if you succeed and avoid you for a whole day, sulking.

Becomes a little aggressive in trying to one-up you afterward, but will smooth out once you reciprocate again.

Jimmy is definitely a little grouchy if you spurn him from making those comments in the first place. ("Really? After what you said?") But would eventually back down.

Anya is definitely caught off guard, her eyes widening and her weight shifting on her feet. "Oh."

She's a little used to unsavory comments directed towards or at her, but this is different. It's from someone she actually likes. And she can't quite tell if this is discomfort because it was unexpected (and in a good way) or if she wanted you to stop.

If nothing else, she's confident in knowing that you'd back down if she told you to.

Kind of cagey in general, but ultimately lets you say them, especially if you two have been friends for quite a while.

Generic or joking comments would go a lot further; she'd smile and indulge you, but not actively make them in turn. If/when she does, it'll be the most out of pocket thing that'll have you turning to stare at her. She's knowledgable, she just doesn't find it savory to make those kinds of comments herself.

Finds it super sweet if she ever makes you flustered. (Probably does it when she has to enact a physical exam of some sort, where she's up close, eyes locked. Definitely apologizes profusely afterward.)

Absolutely loves receiving the complimentary ones that are vaguely sexual. "Damn, girl, your hands are so fine, why don't you put them on me?"

Swansea just takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, the epitome of a disappointed dad. "That something you heard from Jimmy or Daisuke?"

He's not even phased, so you'll have to up your ante if you're trying to get a rise out of him.

Secretly, a little flattered that you said something like that to him. To him, it means that either you're comfortable enough to be yourself around him or that you're interested in him. A solid win-win either way.

Doesn't bring it up but does act more favourably towards you.

If he does bring it up, it'd be in a casual conversation, or right after you made another comment. Except he ramps it up to 100, and makes it the raunchiest, most sensual phrasing that you've ever heard.

Eyes you over whatever he has his hands on, amused smirk on his face, "If you're going to do something like that, kid, make sure to put your back into it."

Always wins if you try to one-up him. Swansea has game.

It's such an innucuous phrase that he doesn't even process it at first. "Uhuh." Then Daisuke's expression speeds through a myriad of realization, his jaw dropping. "Wait, what!?"

Absolutely flustered and shocked.

"Are you even allowed to say things like that?"

Either takes him forever to calm down or he recovers in 0.5 seconds flat. Depends entirely on what was said.

Might have preened to Swansea about you putting the moves on him, even if the comment wasn't directly related to him.

Definitely tries to tease you about it, even insinuating that you have a crush on him.

Tries his best to get you back for it but it's honestly a mix of awful pick up lines and botched advice from Swansea. Sure, he's had people make comments like that before, or flirted with him, but it's different when it's you.

Daisuke definitely becomes super giddy if you keep it up.

[thegoddessprose]

Doing this for Chiasa🩷💜

A - Activities: Really, just sitting down and having a conversation is great for her, even if it's just about their day. She likes to get Plutarch in on her interests and will indulge in his too... Although sometimes "parallel play" can be enough.

B - Beauty: The first thing that attracted Chiasa to Plutarch was his willingness to fight for what he believed in (While knowing how not to get himself killed) His quiet confidence/BDE was also a big factor. If we're talking physically, what she finds beautiful about him is that he looks like a real person rather than a painted up doll or whatever inhuman creatures Capitolites want to look like. She has a soft spot for freckles too...

C - Comfort: Chiasa will offer a shoulder to cry on right away. If physical affection isn't needed or wanted, she'll be there to talk him through it or lend an ear.

D - Dreams: In general, while maintaining her own business, she wants to help Plutarch make Panem a better place, not just to support him, but also because she feels like she needs to make up for years of standing by. While neither are too keen on marriage, both would probably want the wedding part through a commitment ceremony. Children are off the table, however... She's a little too old for that.

E - Equal: Chiasa isn't overly domineering, but is in no way passive either. She and Plutarch roughly try to be equal in the relationship.

F - Fight: Like with all couples, it would depend on what happened. She'd typically take a little time to cool off before further discussions. Big fights are pretty uncommon, however. Disagreements happen, like with most couples, but since she and Plutarch are pretty rational people, they tend to try to find a solution rather than blowing up.

G - Gratitude: Very much so. Chiasa had decades of pent up beliefs and resentment and she was finally able to express it with Plutarch. She becomes quite aware of the hope he's given her and is grateful every day after.

H - Honesty: Not really... One of the biggest foundations of their relationship is openness and honesty. Plutarch knows about her deepest beliefs and past... There's even a point where she shares her darkest secret with him because she feels like it's unfair to keep it from him as they grow closer.

I - Inspiration: She'd become more hopeful and courageous. She was always kind, but not brave enough to step out of line, even when it was the right thing. Plus with seemingly everyone around her saying the opposite, it was a big turning point to have her beliefs and sympathies validated.

J - Jealousy: Not really, Chiasa trusts him. Plus she has the knowledge that nobody else had successfully gotten as close as she had, so...

K - Kiss: Chiasa is a great kisser, having decades of practice under her belt. Basically, the two of them were playing hooky from her family's New Year's Eve party, and she playfully suggested that they kiss at midnight. I'll say it was a lot more than a simple peck and clinking champagne glasses...

L - Love Confession: Ideally, Chiasa would have confessed in a more romantic setting, but in reality, she blurted it out the minute she saw Plutarch after the rebellion. To be fair, they'd been apart for a while and both had some near death experiences and realized how precious their time was.

M - Marriage: Like I said before, Chiasa doesn't really believe in marriage... She's been around too many contractual shams and plain bad marriages. But she'd be fine with doing the wedding part. The "proposal" was essentially them discussing the idea and agreeing on it. I picture it being a small ceremony with their family and friends, but that's where the low-key stuff ends. While it's not a state event, pictures would definitely be sent to the society pages. (Plutarch would likely be a bit of a groomzilla too...)

N - Nicknames: They don't really go super mushy with nicknames... She typically calls him "Honey" and he usually uses "dear." She does occasionally call him "Ploot," though.

O - On Cloud Nine: When she's in love, Chiasa is calmer, happier, and just smiles differently. As an artist, she tends to see the beauty in everyday life, but when she's in love, she will wax poetic. Once they're official, she will brag about him. What he's doing for the country, a little thing he's done for her, how smart he is, even little quirks... She will rave about Plutarch if given the chance.

P - PDA: PDA was off the table at first because they had to keep things under wraps. Once they went public, however, there wasn't any going back. While they're not constantly making out or sneaking away together, there are little things. They'd share a short kiss, he'd put his arm around her waist, she'd rest her head on his shoulder, hell, they'd even just hold hands.

Q - Quirk: Chiasa is quite empathetic. She can tell if Plutarch (Or, well, anyone close to her) is feeling great or down. It does wonders for communication and intimacy.

R - Romance: Chiasa isn't as romantic as she was when she was younger, but still appreciates it a little. She prefers to be creative, but also personal. One thing she has in common with Plutarch is a dislike of big, but impersonal gestures from S/Os in the past, so she's sure to keep his preferences in mind when wanting to surprise him with anything.

S - Support: Definitely! She's not exactly a political scholar, but is more than happy to help make Panem a better place. Sometimes it's just appearing with him and saying a few words, other times it's charity work, hosting functions, even just helping him look good or relatable. She still makes sure he has his downtime as well so he doesn't burn himself out.

T - Thrill: Chiasa needs the best of both worlds. A routine provides a sense of safety, but monotony bores her. At the same time, she was a thrill seeker in relationships, but even that wears off or becomes too risky. Since they're both creative people, she and Plutarch know how to keep things interesting, whether it's dates, domesticity, or the bedroom.

U - Understanding: Again, Chiasa is quite empathetic. She got to know Plutarch very well before the rebellion, and although it takes some getting used to, it's her kindness and empathy that brings him closer to her.

V - Value: Chiasa values her relationship highly, although she doesn't quite realize how much until Plutarch is away from her. I wouldn't say she'd drop everything, certainly not her fashions or family, but he's still pretty high up there.

W - Wild Card: Chiasa really likes Plutarch's voice. At first it was just for not fluffy reasons, but she found it soothing soon enough... And absolutely fell for how his tone shifts when he's talking about something he's into. She might not always get what he's talking about the first time, but it's worth it to see and hear him so enthusiastic.

X -XOXO: Chiasa is a very affectionate person, not just with Plutarch, but with most people she loves. With him, she loves to kiss and be kissed. She loves to hug and cuddle too, and it helps that he's very comfortable; very soft and warm.

Y - Yearning: When they were apart during the rebellion, it was a little bit more dire because she wasn't sure what would happen. She coped then by writing letters/diary entries to him and attempting to be optimistic about life after the war. When it comes to the short term, communications are open, so there's less to worry about. Otherwise, she tries to focus on other things and welcomes him back with open arms.

Z - Zeal: When it comes to pre-war, Chiasa would have covered for Plutarch if it had come to that. Afterwards she was also willing to enter the scrutiny of politics for him (Although to be fair, she's been around those circles for a good chunk of her life), and endure busy schedules, nosy tabloids, and a reconstruction era.

Fluff Alphabet!

Inspired by the NSFW Alphabet by @fairy-tail-babes.

Feel free to use for your own writing Blogs!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

So: Send me a character and one/several letter(s) and let’s get started!

[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ ghost ]

SFW

- You didn’t know what to expect being set up by your childhood friend Kyle Garrick

- Having an inkling it would be someone he worked with in the ‘parachute regiment’. So you expected 5’11”, stocky build and maybe a Mohawk?

- What you got was 6’4”, unable to tell what build he had because of the hoodies and a mask?

- He scared you to begin with, especially when you heard his voice. And Simon was used to that, that’s why he didn’t date… he couldn’t remember the last time he had sex or even spoke romantically to a woman.

- You thought about walking out on the date, but held in there. Realising maybe he was so awkward around the other people in the pub. “Wanna take a walk?”

- “Think you can keep up?” That was the first confident thing Simon had said that night.

- Maybe walking along the canal wasn’t the best choice but he seemed harmless, not a serial killer… He leant against the railings… his eyes reflected the street lamp, the night a dreary sight.

- You went to start your car, no such luck- like your date. He hadn’t told you one thing about himself… date failed and now your car refused to work with you. Your phone at 1% charge… you couldn’t even call a taxi.

- When you started to walk to the pub, an off-road jet black 4x4 pulled up beside you. It was Simon. “Car trouble?”

- “Yeah…”

- “Get in.” Was it a bad idea to jump into the car of someone you’d only just met and communicated with through Kyle? Yes. Were you in any position to turn down his kindness? No. “I’ll drive ya home…”

- Then the pin dropped, “My house keys are in the car,” A dry laugh came from him- trying to imagine what he looked like under that thing.

- “I can’t leave you on the street…” And that’s what led you straight into the passenger seat. His truck was spotless and surprisingly comfortable, like nobody had ever sat in that spot before you. “You can stay at mine for the night, don’t tell Garrick… he’ll have a field day….”

- “Thanks, but you could just drop me at a bus stop?” Not that you wanted that, not that you wanted anything from the good samaritan at the wheel.

- His head shook, “In this area? No chance, love,” You wondered how long he had travelled to go on this date because he had been driving half an hour before he pulled into a drive. From how he looked around getting out of the car and how high the garden hedge was, you thought it was lucky he hadn’t thrown a bag over your head.

- Not that you’d remember where he had taken you anyway.

- His house was almost barren, not many belongings. “Kitchen is on your left, living room on the right and bathroom is upstairs the first door you see…” He was talking much more than he had in the crowded environment.

- “D’ya have a phone charger? I’ll call Kyle to come get me tomorrow to look at the car…” He just gave you a stare, then you realised. Kyle didn’t live in your area anymore, over a hundred miles away. “Fuck…”

- “I’ll take a look at it in the morning…”

- “You sure? I can pay you fuel money,”

- Long story short, Simon turned down your money. And he kept coming back after he fixed your car, jotting your number down in case it gave you any more trouble.

- He doesn’t take his mask off until you have sex for the first time

- After that he rarely wears it when in private with you

- It’s weird when you have guests over (TF141) and he wears the damned thing

- You make sure you wash the masks every other day and make sure Simon alternates

- Never gets spots from them, either.

- Has tattoos but would never get a matching one with anyone

- He thinks it’s a jinx on any relationship or friendship

- You’re probably his first proper relationship

- Discloses he’s in the SAS when he gets deployed about a year into your relationship

- You never realised how worried sick you’d be until he got through the front door

- Bundles you in his arms, never taking the smell of your hair, perfume and skin for granted again

- Fixes all of your car troubles- he may have gone into mechanics had he had a settled childhood

- Finds it difficult to introduce you to the family, not because of you. Because of the baggage.

- His mother welcomed you but with caution in hand. Until you got talking to her and she just seemed to open up to you.

- She invites you round for dinner every Sunday. It makes Simon smile

- Never worked through his emotional baggage about his dad

- So when the subject of kids is brought up, he shudders

- You don’t press the matter, not with Simon

- He’s stubborn and you seem to be the only one who can change his mind

- Simon doesn’t fall in love easily but when he does, it’s deep and he’s never leaving your side

- Much more of a goofball than other people see- those dad jokes are primed and ready for an occasion

- Not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his…

- He’s more worried about you when he’s away

- It’s like a hole in his heart being away from you and he strives to get out uninjured and alive not to burden you

- Knows that if you can get past his work, you’ll get through anything

NSFW

- Your first time was very spontaneous, two months into you seeing him.

- The back of his car, you couldn’t remember the cause of it but you remember making out in the back of his truck

- Going out into the woodlands to cool off but instead, you were hitched on his hips and fingers dragging across his muscular shoulders.

- Clung to each other while his body rolled into yours, you biting down slightly on his clothes. Instead of purring his into the daylight air.

- It didn’t end there, the back of the truck and back at his.

- Practically never ending until the morning… where you’d lay on his chest. He was stroking through your hair

- Whenever he’s asleep, he recounts those memories and every encounter after that.. just so he can be close to you when away

- Surprisingly gentle- knows he’s a big guy

- Though he’s not without his rugged potential. Prefers not to be too rough

- Has sexual experience but nothing above 5 women and then it wasn’t reoccurring

- Doesn’t have a vice for sex, he loves feeling close to you

- Loves facing you, he loves that intimacy

- He’s quite an intimate guy

- Never wears the mask when you have sex

- If you ask him, he refuses… finds it difficult to open up about work and his experiences

- Closer than anybody else would be able to get, over his dead body

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | ghost m.list

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyThree

Prompt from @bookworm0690 and @after-the-end-times

“Stevie love!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s snowing!”

The phone starts to ring as Steve heads to the window, so Steve diverts to answer it. “Steve! It’s snowing!”

“Hey Robs, and yeah, Eddie just told me.”

“Do you think it’ll be bad? The forecast says it’ll come down heavy. Do you think we will get a snow day tomorrow?”

“I think Keith would expect us to open even if we had to find a sled and a team of dogs to get us there.”

“Poop.”

“Yeap. But I’ll see how the roads are in the morning, if it’s bad then fuck it, I’m not risking the beemer. Who’s going to want to rent a movie anyway?”

“Okay, call me in the morning? Chrissy already said she’s not bothering to open the shop if it’s bad, who goes out in the snow to buy flowers?”

“I don’t know, the same people who go out in the snow to rent movies, probably. But, yeah, she’s probably right.”

“Okay, bye dingus, love you.”

“Love you too Robs.”

Eddie practically has his face smushed against the window, “cold water,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right,” Steve watches the snow start to gather in patches on the lawn with dawning apprehension that he can’t place. There’s no reason for it, really. They’re safe and warm inside, and Steve knows without looking that they have a good weeks worth of groceries in the house. The main roads will probably be plowed before lunch time tomorrow at the latest, so none of that is what's worrying him.

It really starts coming down, thick heavy flakes that start to blanket everything, and as the snow banks, Steve thinks more about last year. Was it around now that Eddie was getting sick? Steve can’t quite place the time line, but he remembers how cold he’d been, sitting outside next to the pool, his missing toes throb with phantom pain, and Steve shivers. Eddie was getting sicker as the snow fell, and Steve remembers holding him, bundled in a blanket at the back door, so he could see the snow, “I’m going to make us hot chocolate,” Steve says to distract himself.

“Whizzy cream?” Eddie asks absently.

“Sure baby.”

The next day, the world is clean and white and quiet. The gray sky is bright where the sun shines through the clouds, reflecting off the snow; it makes the whole world hard to look at.

“Stevie can we go out?”

“Out in the snow?”

“I want to walk on it.”

“Leave footprints everywhere?” Eddie nods enthusiastically. “We could make snow angels. And snow men.”

Eddie turns to look at Steve, “snow men? Snow angels?”

“Oh man, you’re gonna’ love this.”

Eddie’s frizzy curls are sticking out from under his woolen hat, and his jeans are tucked into a pair of Steve’s boots. He had managed all of thirty seconds outside before he wanted his sunglasses, so he’s wearing those too. Steve gets it, it is bright out here, what with all the white, and Eddie’s eyes are, even now, very sensitive to the light.

Eddie’s licking a snowball. Under normal circumstances, Steve might stop him, but the snow out here in the yard is fresh and clean, so Steve lets it go.

Steve flops onto his back, Eddie letting out a surprised laugh at the sight, and then he comes closer, watching as Steve moves his arms and legs, getting up again to reveal the shape he’s left behind, “see, snow angels.”

“Huh,” Eddie says, not seeming that impressed by it.

“We could build a snow man?”

“Which man is it?”

Steve snorts a laugh, “uhm...no. It can be anyone I guess, but usually it’s like a generic snow...person. We can give him a carrot for a nose and, like, maybe a scarf?”

Eddie frowns, “what, in case he gets cold?” he looks bemused by the idea.

“Come on, I’ll show you...and I really think we need to get around to watching some Christmas movies.”

The moment Eddie grasps the idea of what Steve’s showing him, he’s away. He digs up twigs and rocks and things from under the lighter snow banked between the trees, happily giving his creations arms and eyes and mouths and...eyebrows.

“No no,” he directs Steve, “that one is Lucas, so the Max one should be smaller.” Eddie rams in twigs for their arms, angling them so that ‘Lucas’ and ‘Max’ are holding hands.

Steve stands back, frowning, “so who is that one again?”

“Argyle, and that’s Hopper," Eddie replies, like it's obvious.

“Right, right. So we just have...Joyce left?”

“Yeah, we have to make Joyce the best one.”

Steve smiles to himself; he’s not entirely sure how good Eddie’s memory is when it comes to those first few days after he came out of the pool, freshly bald and newly legged, but Eddie definitely remembers the Christmas food. He also seems to remember how, in those first few months, Joyce was Steve’s go to for advice on Eddie care.

Not to mention how kind Joyce has always been; how she’s always gone out of her way to treat Eddie with the same kindness and inclusion as everyone else.

“You know what, you’re right, you build Joyce, I’ll be right back.”

Steve knocks the snow off his shoes at the back door, before heading upstairs to raid his parents wardrobes. He comes back with a small armful of stuff, and Eddie gleefully distributes clothing amongst his family of creations. Joyce ends up stylishly dressed in a cashmere shawl that Steve has no doubt is probably worth at least a months wages. He doesn’t give a shit though, and clearly neither do his parents; they haven’t been back at all this year.

Eddie stands back after, surveying his creations, “a little family,” he grins at Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve can’t help but agree, “now lets go in and warm up.”

“Yup,” Eddie grabs Steve’s face, smushing a chilly wet kiss to Steve’s nose on the way past.

[heavyhitterheaux]

IDGAF (NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I don't care right now (I don't give a fuck)

Pull your hair right now (come here)

Tryna beat it right now (she like)

But you know I got a man

Synopsis: Joe has no more fucks to give and is tired of him not having the title of being your boyfriend

Warnings: mentions of dv

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After Joe had told you that he knew that you loved him instead of Trevor, you stood there speechless.

One thing you weren't about to do was tell him that he was wrong.

His eyes never left yours as he waited for you to say something. When you didn't, he knew that it had to be up to him to at least try to pull a response out of you.

“Look, Y/N, if you go back to him, fine. I can't stop you, but I do need to tell you one thing.” He told you as he grabbed your left hand to hold it while the other one was holding onto the bouquet of flowers that he had gifted you.

“What's that?” You asked him not knowing that you had absentmindedly squeezed his hand tighter.

“You’re making a mistake and hopefully you realize that before you get hurt again because I know that at this point, it's bound to happen.” Joe said as he was not holding back how he felt about the entire situation.

Now the question was why did Trevor have such a strong hold on you?

“Joey, I promise that you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine.” You said while trying to reassure him, but knew for a fact that more than likely it was not working in your favor.

“And who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? Do you also not realize how much your brother worries about you too? From what I've seen and heard about him, he is not a good person. Especially not to you. Did you forget him leaving actual marks on your wrist while we were at that party and you were trying to get away from him? What do you think would have happened if I wasn’t there to get you away from him?”

“I wish that people would just stop acting like they know what's best for me.” You breathed out, frustrated about being hit from all different angles.

Joe, Ja'Marr, Erin, and Alisha.

Even your parents thought that you had broken up with him a while ago because that's what Ja'Marr told them when he knew that Joe had eyes for you.

“Bam Bam! Why did dad just say he was relieved that I finally broke up with Trevor!? And that you had told them?! Didn’t realize my life was a soap opera to you!”

“I just uh predicted the future. Now you're not going to make me look like a liar to mom and dad, right?”

“I should beat your ass right now.”

“I mean…. You have someone who likes you that I know will treat you right. He's literally just waiting for Trevor to get out of his rightful spot.”

“JA'MARR! Who are you talking about!?”

“Pebbles, don't be dumb. I'm talking about Joe, obviously. I see the type of person he is and that's someone I want for my sister.”

The relief that was evident on their faces let you know that he was not ever going to have approval from anyone that was a part of your life.

As soon as those words left your mouth, Joe wasted no time responding to you.

“Oh so you think this is what a healthy relationship between two people looks like? And someone obviously needs to because you definitely can't do it yourself.”

“Just like you said before, if I go back to him, it really isn't any of your business or anyone else's for that matter. Let's keep it that way because I am done with this conversation.”

“If that's what you want then okay. I won't say anything else about it. And to add to that I'll keep my distance because you're right. You shouldn't be spending more time with another man that isn't your boyfriend and I guess he probably feels like I stepped on his toes enough. But he won't have to worry about that anymore.” He told you as he sighed and held up his hands in defense, losing the warmth that he had been getting from holding your hand.

“Wait…” You started to say, but Joe shook his head at you.

“No, this is what you wanted so this is how it's going to be from now on.”

“Joey, I didn't mean…”

“Didn't mean what? You love me but your ass is crawling back to him as he begs for forgiveness as usual after doing the bare minimum? Actually, he doesn't even do that. I'm not about to compete with anyone who I feel isn't even on my level to compete with me in the first place. I'll see you at the game if you're coming later. Probably not the best idea to wear my jersey since we can't have Trevor seeing it.”

Now it was apparent that Joe was more than pissed off with you.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I need to head back to my apartment to start to get ready anyway. But for the record….” He trailed off and you tried to grab his hand, but he immediately moved away.

“For the record what?”

“I love you too. So do what you will with that information.”

That's the last thing Joe told you before he turned away from you before he walked back to meet up with Justin and Ja'Marr.

Later that day in the afternoon, you were sitting next to Alisha and Erin in the student section of the stadium waiting for the game to start. After the conversation between the two of you earlier in the day, you honestly didn’t feel like going, but decided to anyway.

Even though Joe was mad at you, you had already promised him last week that you would wear his jersey to the game and didn't care who saw it at this point.

You were going to support your friend.

Your friend that you were in love with and he was in love with you however that was a whole nother discussion.

“You look good in your future husband's jersey.” Erin teased while Alisha laughed before taking a bite of her hot dog.

“He’s a little mad at me right now so hopefully seeing me in it will make it a little bit better.” You said as you turned to look at her.

“Well he can't be but so mad at you since he is literally making his way over here.” Alisha told you as you turned around to see that she was indeed correct.

The three of you were on the first row in the middle so that you would have the best view. In order to get these seats, all three of you made sure to get to the stadium early. When Joe finally reached you, he had an expression on his face that you couldn't quite read and you were the first one to speak.

“Surprised to see me?” You asked and he nodded.

“A little bit, but I know you. A promise is a promise and you said that you would be here. You aren't one to back out of something so easily.”

“Hmm, true. Are you still mad at me?” You quietly asked and Joe simply shrugged.

“Seeing you in my jersey is making me less mad if that helps. If you were my girlfriend, after tonight when I won I would be able to take it off of you. But I know my opportunity is coming.”

“I…” You started to say as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Oh, that’s right. We established boundaries today and I promised that I would back off. It's kind of hard, but I just have to deal with it.”

“Joey….”

“Bold move though wearing it considering anybody could see it, including him. We both know that he already doesn’t like me. Think he'd be mad if I kissed you right now? In front of all these people? Letting the entire world know that you belong to me and only me even if you aren't ready to admit it yet.” Joe whispered as he leaned closer to you. Joe had spotted Trevor in the stands a few rows up and sent a small smile his way which led to Trevor glaring at him. You still had yet to notice that he was there which Joe was going to take advantage of.

When you were quiet, Joe laughed as he broke the silence.

“Let’s find out.”

He lightly grabbed your face and moved you closer to him so he could place a kiss on your cheek that was dangerously close to your mouth.

If you would have moved less than one centimeter, he would have planted that kiss on your lips.

“We'll talk later.” He told you while pinching your cheek and you simply nodded. This was the second time today that he had left you speechless.

“Have a good game, Joey.”

“It already is a good game, because you're here.” He replied as he winked at you.

He made his way back over to the sideline while Erin and Alisha were grinning from ear to ear as you turned around to look at both of them.

“I seriously wish yall would just fuck already. It would literally solve so many problems. He would take you on the fifty yard line if he could.”

“ERIN!”

“I’m just saying. I am literally waiting for the wedding invite. I wonder if you two will get married here or have a destination wedding? I can start looking up places.”

“What am I going to do with you?” You asked her, but also couldn’t help but to laugh at the same time.

What you didn't see was Trevor fuming behind you. He had seen the entire interaction and planned to confront you about it later. He knew that you and Joe were obviously close and were friends, but that interaction that he just saw was too intimate for his liking.

He hadn't cared for Joe ever since the party where he had stepped in between the both of you. In the back of his mind, he knew Joe liked you, it was obvious. But one thing that he had to do was set him straight and let him know that you were his and planned on reminding you about it later.

Little did he know, it was too little too late.

You were too far gone at this point, and the only person that held your attention was Joseph Lee Burrow.

Later on that night after he had gotten back to his apartment from LSU winning their game, Joe had grabbed food and was sitting down eating it while his phone vibrated on the table in front of him indicating that it was his mom and he quickly answered.

He simply wanted to be by himself and didn't bother celebrating with any of his teammates because once again, his mind was on you.

It was a continuous cycle, you, football, and focusing on his classes.

It took everything in him not to text you to tell you to come over at this very moment. He was supposed to be mad at you, but being around you was something that kept him grounded. Seeing you wear his jersey tonight made it hard for him to continue to be mad at you.

“Hello?”

“I watched the game and you played amazing as usual. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to this one, but I will definitely be there next week.”

“It's fine, don't even worry about it and thank you.” He quietly said and she knew for a fact that something was wrong.

“What's going on? You sound upset.” Robin asked him and he sighed before he answered her.

“I like this girl…”

“Oh Y/N? Yes I know. Pretty obvious. You literally talk about her non-stop every week that me and your dad call you. Can't wait to meet her, but go on.”

“Well she knows that I like her, well I actually told her that I loved her earlier today and also told her that I knew she loved me. We've gotten really close ever since I came down here and met her. If I'm not playing football or in class, I am literally spending all of my time with her.”

“Well, what's the problem?”

“She has a boyfriend and I might just have to settle for being her friend because instead of breaking up with him and being with me, she told me that she is giving him another chance even after he's hurt her multiple times.”

“I know that can be hard to watch, but as bad as it sounds, you need to let her make her own mistakes. If that's her decision, you need to respect it.”

“And that's what I told her and also said from now on I’ll be keeping my distance from her.”

“If you feel that's your best option, then stand by your decision.”

“I just…. All I've seen is her getting hurt by him and she steadily defends him each time.”

“I… if you are her friend and you are as close as you claim you two are, just be there for her and help her get through whatever may happen. If the two of you are meant to be together, you'll be together.”

It was 2 in the morning when Joe heard someone knocking on his apartment door and was instantly confused. Hopping up from the couch that he had fallen asleep on with open books scattered around him, he opened the door to see you staring at him in a frantic state.

“Y/N, is everything okay? What's wrong?” He asked as he stepped to the side to be able to let you in and led you to sit down on the couch.

“My brother isn't here, is he?” You asked not bothering to answer his question and looking around since sometimes Ja'Marr would crash at Joe's place if he was too tired to go back to his own.

“No, but do I need to call him?” He asked and you immediately shook your head no.

“No! Please don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell, just don’t tell him.” You didn't mean to raise your voice and it came out harsher than you intended.

“Then are you going to tell me what happened? Wait, why is there a cut near your eye? And it's bleeding.” He asked and got up to wet a washcloth and dabbed at your face with it.

It was at that moment that you had looked down and started playing with your matching bracelet that you and Ja'Marr had gotten each other on your eighteenth birthdays and under no circumstances would you make eye contact with him.

That's when the thought hit Joe like a ton of bricks.

“Did that asshole put his hands on you?”

“No.”

“Y/N, if you lie to me I'm calling Ja'Marr.”

“Okay, okay. He tried to. We were arguing and he threw a vase at me that shattered against the wall and some glass from it must have cut me. And then he pushed me into a corner and acted as if he was going to punch me, but punched a hole in the wall instead. Right next to my head. He apologized, but I waited until he fell asleep and then I came here. I was so scared.” You quietly said as tears were starting to run down your cheeks and Joe quickly wiped them away.

It happened again, just like he said it would.

And this time, it ended up being a lot worse.

Joe was sitting there with his jaw clenched and once you looked up at him, you knew that you had to stop him before he did something stupid.

He abruptly got up and was looking for his keys when you instantly ran to stand in front of the door to block him.

“Move, Y/N.”

“Joey, no. You are not going anywhere. Let it go.”

“He fucking hurt you. I should go over there and kick his ass myself.”

“I cannot risk you getting in trouble and therefore getting kicked off the team, he isn't worth it. I'll be fine. Do not mess up your future over me.” You told him as you took his hands in yours.

“But YOU are worth it. Who the fuck in their right mind would do something like that to you? I knew I didn't like him when I met him and your brother was right about him.”

“Joey, promise me. Please don't. I'll deal with it in my own way.”

“There is no way in hell you are going near him ever again. Ja'Marr would be mad as hell at me if he knew that I knew that he hurt you and didn't do anything about it.”

“And that's why you aren't going to tell him.”

“Wait, what? Y/N… you cannot be serious.”

“I… it's the same thing with him too. You can both get arrested for assault and it'll lead to so much more, just please.”

Joe let out a deep sigh before nodding, letting you know that he would honor your wishes.

The two of you were still standing in front of the door and the two of you hadn't taken your eyes off one another when you suddenly reached up and kissed him, catching him off guard, but he immediately kissed you back.

When the two of you broke apart, the reality of what you had just done hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had just cheated on your boyfriend with Joe.

And you didn’t have an ounce of regret in your body.

“I'm sorry, I…” You started to say as you stepped away from him and Joe cut you off as he lightly brought you back towards him.

“I'm not. Break up with him and be with me instead. So I can show you how you're supposed to be treated. I promise you that you won't regret it.”

You didn't respond, but Joe immediately brought your face to his and kissed you once more. Both of your hands were exploring each other's bodies but as soon as you tried to lift Joe's shirt, he abruptly stopped and he kissed the side of your mouth like he had done earlier at the game before saying anything.

“Not yet. You've been through a lot tonight and the last thing I want is for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state and you regret it tomorrow.”

“But I'm…”

“I just want you to rest for the rest of the night. We have plenty of time for that. I'll grab you some clothes to sleep in.”

Nodding your head he kissed you again before taking your hand in his and led you towards his bedroom that you had grown familiar with all throughout the semester. Any time you came over, it would lead to you stealing one of his shirts or one of his hoodies. He was convinced when the semester was over that all he was going to have left at this rate were his boxers. Once there, he let go of your hand and went into his dresser to pull out one of his old Ohio State shirts and handed it to you.

“It'll probably be huge on you, but you'll be comfortable.”

You smiled at him before heading to the bathroom to change out of your clothes. Once you closed the door behind you, you glanced in the mirror and didn't recognize the girl staring back at you.

You promised yourself that if it happened again, you would leave him, but here you were. You had someone right in front of you that wanted to give you the world so what were you so scared of?

You were tired of running around in circles and tired of making excuses.

First thing you were doing later on that day was breaking up with Trevor.

Once you had gotten changed, you walked back out into Joe's bedroom to see he was now in just a pair of sweatpants and looked like he was headed towards the door, but was quickly stopped in his tracks as he heard your soft voice behind him making him turn around.

“Where are you going?” You quietly asked since you were confused.

“To sleep on the couch while you sleep in my bed. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay first.”

“Joey, no. I'm not kicking you out of your bed and besides, I don’t want to be by myself right now.” You confessed as you grabbed his hand.

He nodded as the two of you both got settled, Joe was closest to the door while you were closest to the window. After making sure you were comfortable, he reached over to turn off the lamp that was on the bedside table. That was when he heard your voice once more.

“Joey?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for always being there for me. Even when I might not deserve it.”

At this point in time, you were honestly surprised that he even answered the door and let you in, but knowing the type of person he is, he wouldn’t have reacted any differently.

“I'll be here as long as you want me to be and you deserve the world. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

—

You didn’t know how long you were laying there, but sleep was the last thing taking over your body. Noticing that Joe's breathing also hadn't slowed, you turned around to face him and at the same time you heard his voice.

“Princess? You still awake? You need to go to sleep.”

“I can't sleep. I'm still so scared, I know he's going to look for me sooner or later.”

“You’re safe here and no one is going to touch a hair on your head. I can promise you that.” He told you as he stroked your face and placed a light kiss on your forehead as he was able to make out your features in the dark by the moonlight peeking in through the curtains.

“Come here.”

Joe then wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him as he then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips which you quickly returned.

All of this led up to a heated make out session with Joe now hovering over top of you as his hands reached underneath his shirt that you were wearing. His fingers lightly grazed your nipples and he then began to roll them between his fingers as he noticed that your bra that you had been wearing had been long forgotten which he was thankful for.

Before he lifted his shirt over your head, he asked for permission to make sure you were absolutely sure about wanting to do this. Joe had wanted you from day one, but if you weren’t ready to do this he was willing to wait until you were.

“Are you…?”

“Yes. I was sure earlier tonight and I'm sure now. I know the last thing I'm ever going to regret is being with you.”

Once he peeled the shirt away from your body, he now had full access to you. The plan was to take his time so he could give you the undivided attention that you deserved since he knew for a fact that Trevor wasn't giving it to you without even having to ask you about it.

His mouth found its way to one of your nipples and he began to lightly suck on it while continuing to roll the other one in between his fingers before switching making a moan escape your mouth.

“Mmm, fuck.”

“I'm going to make you feel so good, princess.” He whispered against your lips before kissing them.

The increase in wetness between your thighs was evident as you Iet out soft quiet moans from the sensation of having him explore your body with his mouth.

As he moved further south, Joe's fingers ran along your folds as he saw how wet you actually were.

“This all for me? I've barely even done anything and your body is responding like this?” He asked you as he placed one kiss on each inner thigh.

As you nodded, he inserted one finger and soon worked himself up to two before settling in between your thighs and beginning to pleasure you with his tongue.

After a few minutes, he noticed you starting to squirm and firmly wrapped his arms around your legs in the hopes of limiting your movement.

“Stay still for me princess.” Was all you heard as your hands found a way to his hair and was softly tugging on it, hoping to bring him in closer.

With the use of his tongue along with his fingers, a new sensation unknown to you was building in the lower half of your body and at the same time, Joe began to suck on your clit.

“Oh, shit….”

Joe felt your hands trying to push him away from you, but all he did was tighten his hold on your legs making sure you had no way to get away from him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You won't be able to if you keep moving away from me.” Joe asked you as he had come up for air, but immediately went back down.

“Yes.” Was all you said as he began to suck harder.

It took no time at all for you to feel like you were seeing stars as Joe continued to pleasure you.

It was official.

Joe had given you your first orgasm.

He gave you a few minutes to recover as he was placing kisses up and down your thighs before sliding off his sweatpants along with his boxers as he opened the bedside table to pull out a condom. It was still obviously dark in the room, but you could literally see because of the light coming through the windows past the curtains, how big he was and you suddenly became nervous.

You thought to yourself that there was no way in hell that he was about to fit.

Joe could sense this as he was putting the condom on and quickly tried to reassure you.

“No reason to be nervous, baby. It's going to fit. Most important thing is that you have to relax for me.” He told you while leaning down to lightly stroke your face.

“Okay.” You quietly said in response, but you still weren’t convinced. But at the same time, you knew that Joe had no reason to lie to you.

Once he positioned himself in front of you, he reached down to kiss you and once he pulled away from you is when you heard his voice once more.

“You ready, princess?”

You nodded, but that obviously wasn’t enough for him.

“I need words, you need to say it. I’m not doing anything unless you do.”

“I’m ready.”

Once he finally heard it, you felt Joe slowly entering you and you tightly closed your eyes. As you did this, Joe immediately felt your body tense up.

It would have probably been a good idea to tell him that you had never had sex before before all of this began happening, but knew that he would be as gentle as possible with you regardless.

That's just the type of person he was when it came to you.

“Princess, you have to relax. It's me and the last thing that I am ever going to do is hurt you. When I told you that I loved you, I meant it. Every word.” He quietly said as he leaned down to kiss you.

You nodded and several more kisses were placed on your lips when you felt him easing the rest of the way into you at the same time making you gasp as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You're okay, I got you baby.” Joe told you as he gave you time to adjust to his size before he made any sudden movement.

Kisses were planted along your neck and shoulder as you were adjusting to a new feeling that you had never experienced before. It wasn’t quite to the point of pleasure, however you weren’t necessarily in pain either.

It felt weird.

About a minute or so had passed when you slowly felt him begin to move and you wrapped your arms around him tighter.

Now all you felt was pleasure as moans escaped from your mouth when Joe began to increase his pace.

In order to go deeper and at a better angle, Joe held onto your hips before deciding to wrap your left leg around his waist.

“If you want this as bad as you say you do, keep those legs spread. Fuck you feel so good around me, just like I knew you would.”

Since your arms were already tightly wrapped around him, his face was in the crook of your neck as he had now leaned forward.

Making that sudden change in position, he was now hitting the same spot over and over again and you just knew that it was about to send you over the edge sooner or later.

You were thinking that it would probably be sooner.

“Fuck, Joey stay right there.” You breathed out as he lifted his head to steal a quick kiss from you.

Doing what you had asked him to, his movements increased in pace while also becoming sloppy at the same time making you think that he was just as close as you were.

“Joey, I…” You trailed off as a weird sensation was building in your stomach once more and you knew it was happening again.

The second orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks and you felt like you had gotten the wind knocked out of you.

As Joe heard your soft whimpers, he placed kisses all along your shoulder blade as you rode out your high.

He placed another kiss on your forehead before he slowly slipped out of you making you wince and went to throw away the condom.

Once he had come back, he had a washcloth with warm water in his right hand as he started to gently glide it onto your body in order to wipe you off.

When he was finished, he threw it into the hamper and laid back down beside you, ultimately pulling you on top of him. Your eyes began to become heavy between Joe rubbing small circles along your back and listening to Joe's heartbeat.

Your eyes fluttered open from hearing the television on a low volume and you could only assume that Joe was already awake. Once he noticed that you began to stir, he peeked down at you seeing as you were still laying on his chest.

“Good morning, princess.” He softly said before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning. What time is it?”

“It’s almost nine and I was about to wake you up since I know that you have class at ten and it takes you five to seven business days to get ready.”

“Really, Joey?” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“I call it like I see it. I always tell you what time I’m going to come and get you, however, I’ll be downstairs waiting in the car while you only still have one of your lashes on.”

“You get on my last nerve.”

“But did I lie?”

When Joe was met with silence and another eye roll from you, all he did was laugh.

“I guess I have to go and get ready then.” You told him as you sighed, not wanting to leave his embrace.

“We can do dinner later and have a study date…. With or without clothes.”

“JOSEPH!”

“What? What’d I say that was wrong? I was just giving you options!” He exclaimed as he then held up his hands in defense.

“I’m ignoring you. What time are we doing our dinner and study date?”

“As soon as you get out of class, just come back here.”

“I’m honestly a little nervous to go back to my apartment.” You said being completely honest.

“Just get some of your things and you can stay with me, you know that I don’t care and the most important thing is that you’re safe. I have to go to class too, but I can call Ja’Marr…”

“NO! Baby brother asks too many questions. I’ll be fine. The security guy who works there is super nice and I know if I tell him I don’t feel all that safe he’ll walk me to my apartment door.”

“As long as you’re sure. But call me if there’s a problem, understand?”

“Understood, Mr. Burrow.”

—-

Joe was still running off of the high from this morning as he had woken up to the sight of you beside him. He was walking to his last class of the day on campus when he did a double take as he spotted you in front of one of the many libraries that he knew was near a few of your classes. But who he saw you with was why he instantly became upset.

You were talking to Trevor, who of course he despised and for good reason.

He couldn't tell what the nature of the conversation was by your body language and it almost looked as if Trevor was barely paying any attention to what you were saying which wasn’t unusual.

So, did last night mean nothing to you?

Joe was watching you for a few more minutes until he looked down at his watch and noticed that if he didn't leave now that he would end up being late to class.

At this point, he was done trying.

If that's who you wanted, then fine.

And he made it up in his mind that he was done.

Completely.

Throughout the day, you were calling him and sending him text messages, that ultimately went unanswered making you nervous.

You deserved to get an explanation on why he was suddenly acting this way towards you and immediately hopped into your car after packing your bags that you were going to take in order to stay with him and quickly drove to his apartment.

The banging on Joe's door instantly annoyed him seeing as he just sat down to watch one of the many NBA games that we’re coming on that night. He glanced at the clock to see that it was barely 6 pm and had a feeling that it was you.

A deep sigh escaped his mouth before he got up to answer it. Once he did, he was met with you just as he suspected and you had a pissed off look on your face and Joe raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Yes? Did you need something?”

“So, you can have sex with me, but then suddenly ignore me? I may be little, but I will kick your 6’4 ass and throw a dumbbell at your head.” You asked him and pushed your way past him into the apartment.

“It's not even like that so stop jumping to conclusions.” Joe replied as he closed the door behind you.

“Then tell me so I can understand, Joey! Because you have me confused. You claim to want me so bad and then end up ignoring me all day!? When I called you multiple times? Who does that?”

“Because I saw you with him! Why the fuck are you even talking to him? Hasn’t he hurt you enough?”

“Now look who's jumping to conclusions.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Then why else would you be with him? You did tell me recently that you were going to give him another chance. Recently as in yesterday before we had sex so I simply thought she claims she loves me, yet she's still going back to him.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before you said anything else to him.

“You are literally so annoying. I went to talk to him to break up with him! Last time I checked you did confess that you loved me or did I not get that right?”

“Oh.” Joe quietly said and you couldn't help but to roll your eyes.

You started to make your way back towards the door in order to leave when you felt Joe suddenly pull you back as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Let me go. I'm mad at you.” You said as you were trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything.” He replied as he turned you around to face him and leaned down to kiss you.

“No, don't kiss me. Turn me loose. Leave me alone. All you literally had to do was just ask me.”

“I know, but seeing you with him just pissed me off and so I walked away. I promise it won’t happen again. You forgive me? I’m not letting you go until you say you do.” Joe asked you as he squeezed you tighter and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I guess.” You muttered as he led the both of you over to the couch as Joe sat down first and then pulled you onto his lap.

“So, is it official now?” You asked him as he had been focused on the game that was playing on the television.

“Is what official?”

“Me being LSU's star quarterback Joe Burrow's girlfriend.” You teased as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“You've been mine for a while. That ex-boyfriend of yours was just keeping my spot warm. I bet he never made you feel as good as I did last night.” Joe told you as he was wiggling his eyebrows as you both then let out a laugh.

“No, because I never had sex with Trevor.”

Joe immediately stopped laughing and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Wait, huh?”

“I never did because I told him that I wanted to wait. That was one of the only things he actually did respect, but I know for a fact that he's probably cheated on me multiple times because of it, but I just ignored it.” You replied while being completely honest.

“Uh, princess? Don't you think you should have told me that? Fuck did I…? Shit. I would have made it a lot more special if I would have known. I would have had candles and…”

“Stop it. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.” You cut him off as you kissed him and tried to reassure him.

“I waited for the right person who I knew for a fact was going to treat me right.”

[coichii]

SNOWMAN ✭

—(🎧)—> you visit your best friend in Incheon again after 4 years, leaving with a burning feeling of loneliness and guilt. It doesn’t help that you’ve been in love with him since you were little, and the those feelings haven’t melted away at all.

pairing - childhoodbsf!han x fem!reader

genre - friends to ??, more angsty than fluff BY FAR

word count - 2.2k

warnings - accidental le sserafim reference (iykyk), starts with like no dialogue whoops, cursing, probably too much angst.

series note : hello !! welcome to part five of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “snowman” by Sia. enjoy <3

1570 days.

It has been 1570 days since you last stepped foot in Incheon, the city you had grown up in and spent all of your childhood.

It wasn’t easy to leave; saying goodbye to the one and only place you could call home. The smells of fresh bread sold by local vendors were instead replaced by the muck of New York City, having to go there for your abroad program.

However, it wasn’t the local taste that you would end up missing the most. No, instead it was him.

You can’t even remember when you became Han’s friend, probably some time in early pre-k. You two were inseparable, doing anything and everything together. From the sandbox to the 9-5.

He was so happy for you when you mentioned you had got accepted into your dream college, but his heart dropped and tears fell when you said it was in the states.

He was excited for you of course. You’re his best friend, how could he not be? But he’s not going to lie about the queasy feeling he got in his stomach when he thought of never seeing you again.

He couldn’t help the tears that sprung in his eyes when he thought about the possibility of you forgetting him. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about you falling in love with someone but him. But he couldn’t stop you.

All he could do was drive you to the airport that one, rainy and cloudy day you left him, giving you one last tight hug before you left him. He felt like him letting you out of his grasp that day was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

You guys never stopped talking, of course. It was hard to talk with the time differences, but you always made time for each other. To be honest, you were up at 3am doing homework anyway, so what’s the harm in letting an energetic quokka ramble to you at 5pm.

Seeing Jisung grow in his career, as an idol, as a person, and not being able to be there are at you in a way you had never experienced. You couldn’t help the tears that sprung in your eyes when you thought about the possibility of him forgetting you. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about him falling in love with someone but you.

You knew something he didn’t though. He was working away dance practice with the boys, thinking you were sleeping away the early hours of the morning. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You were currently piling off a plane heading from JFK to Incheon, a long, grueling 15hr flight. It would all be worth it though, getting to see the love of you li— best friend after so long could heal everything in you.

You actually organized some of this with one of your other friends before you moved, Chris. He helped arrange you a place to stay after you landed, which after this flight and dark, winter sky, you couldn’t be more grateful for.

—

new message from : chan 🐺

chan 🐺 : did you land yet?

you : just did, I’m heading to baggage claim !!

chan 🐺 : okay, that’s good

chan 🐺 : I have everything prepared for you when you get to the hotel

chan 🐺 : just tell them I booked it

you : thank you so much, chris 🥲

chan 🐺 : no problem, y/n ☺️

—

You go through baggage claim, heart racing in the crowds of people. It wasn’t the anxiety of crowded places in this case. No, it was the excitement of seeing him for the first time in years.

The taxi ride is long and tiring, your eyes fluttering closed spontaneously as the driver brought you to the hotel.

You didn’t forget to tip them generous tip as you made it to the hotel chan had booked for you. It’s nice, obviously popular and rather big.

It’s no trouble booking in, making it to your room and plopping down on the bed almost immediately, not bothering to change your clothes.

In your dreams, you find yourself with him. The feeling of floating on a cloud as you hold him in your warm grasp is euphoric, making you miss the days where he would hold you in the same comforting embrace.

It’s only a couple of hours before you can see him again.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s now 7pm the next day. You’ve spent the day preparing yourself to see him again, waiting impatiently in the lobby.

It’s around the time he would be getting out of dance rehearsals, the building emptying out rather quickly. You even saw one of your old friends there too, Yuna, an idol you had met a little before moving when visiting with Han. The nostalgia hits hard, vision quickly turning blurry as you get word from Chris that he’s heading down now.

There, you see him.

He turns the corner, beautiful silky hair floating on his face like a halo. His eyes are like boba as he makes his way down the lobby’s hallways.

He turns his head, scanning the various faces on the sides, stopping and staring at a particular section.

There, he sees you.

“Uh. Hey, hannie.” You stammer, suddenly shy at his dropped jaw and shocked eyes. “It’s been a whi-“

You can finish your sentence as your suddenly tackled on the bench, Han stuffing his head deep into the crook of your neck. People are staring and whispering, but you couldn’t care less. All you care about is seeing him again.

“H-holy fuck. Y-yn, is it r-really you?” He whimpers, and you can feel his tears wetting your shoulders as he holds you.

He holds you as if you could slip through his fingers at any time, like you’re a delicate snowflake that can just melt away in a flash.

“Yes, yes, Hanji. It’s me.” You chuckle, but hot tears are filling your eyes as you do so. You stroke his soft hair as he starts to calm down, melting into your warm touch.

“W-why didn’t you tell me you were coming.” You coo as he continues to cry, him finally looking up at your face as if he has to convince himself that you’re really there, that you’re really you.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You giggle as Han wipes a stray tear from your cheek, leaning in to his touch as he pouts.

“Did anyone else know?” He asks, eye contact not ceasing.

“Only channie. He helped me plan this.” And Han groans at plants his face back into your neck.

“I’m going to kick his ass for not letting me know.” He mutters, voice blurred by your warm skin. You giggle, moving on of your hands from his head to his back.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbles, and you can feel your heart shattering into tiny, fragile shards.

“Oh, Hannie. But I’m here now aren’t I.” He whimpers in response, burying his face deeper into your chest.

The lobby is empty now, only stragglers walking through the hallways of the building. You can hear the sounds of the coffee machine whirring, its sounds blending in with the ambiance of the vacant room.

His breathing evens out and you sigh.

Wow, you really missed him.

◂—♥︎—▸

“What do you mean you’re only staying for the month?” Han asks, eyes sparkling

You were seated together in his studio. He had just shown you around the new JYPE building, it had been forever since you’ve been there.

You had to tell him; the guilt was burning at you. He looked so excited, so happy. You wanted to keep that same feeling, but you knew you had to go home— go back to the states within a month.

What were you thinking. That place wasn’t home, here is. Here in Korea with him was always home.

“I’m sorry hannie, but I have to.” You feel pathetic that that’s all you can say, all you can offer him. You can’t conceal the tears that fall down your own face, their pace quickening as a strangled whimper leaves his throat.

“I thought you were going to stay for longer.” He sounds so defeated, like a squeak toy that’s been used too much. It pains you. You wish you could stay for longer—no. You wish you could stay forever.

You can’t look in his eyes, choosing to look out the window at the frozen crystals that dance across the sky, the wind blowing them in all directions. You feel as helpless as them; just being blown in the wind of emotions and feelings.

“I wish I could stay forever, Han. But I can’t, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, breathe quickening and becoming uneven.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. I’m sorry. I’m just happy you can be here for the time you are.” He pulls you into his grasp, running comforting fingers over your skin.

You know he’s sorry for making you cry, but you feel the guilt again.

The guilt of leaving him by himself for more years to come.

“Wanna go out? Make the best of it while we can?” He asks, your head peering up at his, causing his own heart to break. The parallel makes you chuckle dryly; just the other day you were doing this to him as he cried about missing you, now you’re crying about missing him.

“Yeah. Just give me a second to calm down.” And he smiles, pushing your hair out of your starry eyes.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to let you go out like this anyways.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, so you let him.

“Oh? So I don’t look good right now?” You snicker, pushing off him playfully. He shakes his head no, stifling in a laugh.

“Ok then. Guess you’re not taking me anywhere.” You threaten playfully, and his boba eyes expand.

“No, no I’m playing. You look beautiful always y/n.” Your cheeks flush up and the sudden compliment.

It’s been a while since you’ve been that close, so hearing him compliment you like that erupted butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you hanji.” You blush, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m ready.”

“Cmon then. Let’s go.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“So, this is really it, huh?”

You’ve spent practically every day with him this month, whether that be waiting back stage for him to finish performances or going out to go eat lunch, yukgaejang warming your belly from the harsh, winter weather.

Soft touches littered throughout your conversations, intense eye contact that you hadn’t experienced in forever. The chemistry was unmatched.

But there you stood, wind blowing and raising goose bumps on your skin as you stared emptily at the airport. It’s the same one in Incheon that you had arrived in, but it’s not the same feelings.

Instead of the feeling of excitement and happiness, all you could feel was sadness and regret.

You weren’t sure where the regret was coming from. You could never regret visiting him, even though it was for a small time.

Maybe it’s the feeling of knowing he’ll be alone again, after all, this is the same airport he dropped you off at those four years ago.

The memory haunts you like a poltergeist, the look of tears that were on his face stuck in your mind permanently.

And look where you are now, standing infront of the same terminal, looking at the same sight again on his face.

“I guess so.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it.

The sound of the speakers distracts you. It’s a lady on it, sounding hapy as she announces that the plane is now boarding. You don’t know how she can sound so happy, after all, you’re not sure you will be feeling that way for the next couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry, Hanji. I wish I could stay longer.” You choke up, moving to hug him, hurrying your face into his chest as tears wet his shirt.

“Shhh, it’s okay y/n. We’ll never be apart, yeah?” He comforts, running his hands on your hair.

“Yah, y/n. You’re supposed to be the one comforting me, not the other way around.” He jokes, tilting your head up towards him to flash you a silly smile.

“We’ll always be together. Even if you’re in New york, or Chicago, or wherever the fuck you could be.” He wipes away a tear from your cheek as one falls down his.

“I’ll always l-love you. And we’ll always be us.” He’s kissing you then, and all the sounds of crowds melt away as he does so.

You wrap your arm around his neck, allowing him to pull you in deeper. It all feels so… so right. Tears melting together sweetly, as you lose yourselves in eachother.

It’s a long while before you pull away, distracted by the sound of the final boarding call announcement being made.

“I love you too, hannie.” You turn around, pushing your small tote bag further up your shoulder from where it had slipped. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

“No. See you later.” He grabs your hand one last time, bringing it up to his lips to leave one, lingering kiss. Pulling away was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do before.

“See you later, Hanji.”

[solxamber]

Heartslabyul, prompt 5, and fluff/comfort please! <3

Where You Belong || Trey Clover

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "It has always been you" ; Genre: Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort

The unbirthday party at Heartslabyul was lively as usual. The table was laden with pastries, tea, and colorful decorations, and the conversation flowed as freely as the desserts disappeared.

You sat near Trey, casually sipping your tea as Ace and Deuce bickered about who got the last piece of pie. Riddle tried to maintain order, and Cater, ever the conversationalist, turned to Trey with a teasing grin.

“So, Trey,” Cater began, leaning forward, “you planning to head back to the Queendom of Hearts after graduation? Settle down with someone who fits the whole baker-next-door vibe?”

Trey chuckled softly, his usual calm demeanor intact. “Who knows?” he said, noncommittally.

Cater shrugged. “You’ve got that wholesome, family business thing going. You’d be a hit with the locals!”

It was an innocent comment, but it struck you like a blow. Trey didn’t deny it. A pang of insecurity settled in your chest as Cater’s words echoed in your mind. Someone who matches him.

You weren’t from the Queendom of Hearts, let alone Twisted Wonderland. Could someone like you ever fit into Trey’s picturesque life plan? The thought lingered, even as the party continued around you.

Later, as the festivities wound down, you found yourself alone in the kitchen with Trey. He was packing away the leftover pastries with his usual meticulous care, and you stood awkwardly by, unsure how to excuse yourself without revealing your swirling thoughts.

“Hey,” Trey said, breaking the silence as he glanced at you. “You’ve been quiet tonight. Everything okay?”

You hesitated. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Come on, I know you better than that. What’s bothering you?”

The gentle concern in his voice made it harder to brush off, and before you knew it, the words spilled out. “It’s nothing, really. I just... I know I’m not the kind of person you’d settle down with when you go back home.”

Trey stilled, his hand hovering over a tray of tarts. “What do you mean by that?”

You looked down, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “Like Cater said, you’d probably find someone who fits your life back in the Queendom of Hearts. He’s not wrong. You’ve got this amazing life waiting for you, and I’m... not exactly part of it, am I?”

There was a long pause, and then Trey sighed softly. “Cater doesn’t know everything, you know.”

You glanced up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Trey set down the tray and turned to face you fully. His eyes were steady and warm as they met yours. “What I mean is that it’s always been you. You’re the person I want to share my life with, no matter where that life takes me.”

Your breath hitched. “But—”

“No buts,” he said firmly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t care where you’re from or what anyone thinks my ‘type’ is. You’re the one I’ve been falling for all along. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

The weight on your chest lifted, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. “You mean that?”

Trey reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

You smiled, the insecurities melting away as you leaned into his touch. “For the record, I’ve been falling for you too.”

His smile widened, and for the first time that evening, you felt truly at ease. As Trey’s hand lingered against your cheek, you realized that no matter where life took him—or you—this moment was yours to hold onto.

Masterlist

[multipleoccupancy]

Sloane only understood what Killian had told him about his past, the boy was guarded about a lot of it but he had thought it was just because he was such a stickler for the rules. He had learned more from him since and he always got the sense there was more yet to be revealed around the nature of his recruitment. "He's been groomed that's for certain," Sloane confirmed, pitying Killian and his view of Delta Green. "But he's safe with us, he'll learn that sometimes he has to break the rules and that no one will come for him if he does, they only care about the mission success."

He smiled as Samantha confirmed she would escape and then chuckled that he would have a sneaky plan up his sleeve. "Always have an escape plan," he said proudly, agents were precious and the two (plus one extra) were more precious than most! "She should be safe and out of reach, here's hoping she'll feel like that's enough." And that she would be safe and undetected!

"I might need your help in ensuring she sees it as the valuable job it is." Another glace at the pair, "and in persuading Killian to let her have the crossbow." He chuckled, sure their team member would listen to them on that front at least. Sloane hoped he would on keeping Violet a secret too.

Theo smiled as Violet said that it wasn't all bad, more so touched that she pointed out it was how she would see him. "Yeah," he hummed with that same smile even if part of him thought it would have been better if Violet had not crossed timelines at all. It was certainly making things more complicated in his head. He was still glad to have met her though, but he wasn't wise or thoughtful enough yet to say so out loud, turning his attention onto one of the spare pulleys for the crossbow, fidgeting with it instead.

He paused though as the truth came out. She had used a ritual. But she had been under such duress that it was that or die. He ruminated on that for a moment, wondering if he would do the same. He thought he wouldn't and was about to voice that perhaps there had been another way but he didn't blame her, when she revealed another version of himself had tricked her into learning it. His mouth shut again with a quiet and stunned clack.

"I..." he tried and looked her over, reeling from the revelation there was a cultist version of himself. One that had tricked her into learning a ritual. What could he even say to that? His eyes darted down to the pulley in his hands, still mindlessly fidgeting with it as his thoughts went blank. A white nothingness and a numb sensation. He could do rituals? He would do rituals? That wasn't him though. No, it was a different Theo, he would never.

He realised he had to say something, she had gotten so upset when he had been even slightly mistrusting of her before, she was probably freaking out but he didn't dare look up. "I'm glad you got away from them. Safe." He said, still feeling his heart in his throat at the idea of himself as a cultist. A merciless ringing in his year and his vision unable to focus on anything else but the pulley in his hands. "I didn't know." That she had to do that, that it could happen and that he could be the villain.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha nodded slowly. "It was by design," she couldn't help but say, "they recruited him so young." And she knew that she wasn't that much older than him. But 18? And Davidson had threatened him when he was only 16. "They put him through college, too. He probably feels like he owes them so much." How could he see them as the bad guys? Not that Samantha thought Delta Green was bad. She just knew it was... not all that good either.

She was relieved that Sloane agreed with her. "I told him that," she admitted, "but I'm not sure he believed me. He'll listen if it comes from you, though." Slane knew more about Delta Green's practices, after all. "You're right. He would never let anyone hurt her."

"I promise I'll cut my way through if I need to," she assured him, touched but not surprised that he cared more about her safety than the mission. "I had a feeling you had a plan. You're sneaky like that." She nudged him playfully. "I think it's a great idea. She'll be out of danger, but she'll still feel involved." Samantha was rather certain that Violet would never listen if they just told her to "hide and wait."

"It wasn't all bad," Violet said, which was true. A lot of it was bad, but there were precious memories too. Being there for her dad in the ward. Meeting cowboy Theo and Andrea. "I'm glad I know about the supernatural. And my travels can be good, too. I get to see you."

Violet was quite happy that Theo had hugged her back. Relieved, even. Surely that meant things were back to normal, right? But she didn't dare ask him. The truth was, she was scared of the answer. What if he still didn't trust her? From what she had seen, he was a very unyielding young man.

And yet, she still decided to tell him the truth. "I would have been killed otherwise," she said, her eyes falling on the fake crossbow -but only so she could escape Theo's gaze. Was he going to despise her, now? "When the cultists kidnapped me, one of them said they would kill me if I didn't perform a ritual. I was all alone, and there were so many of them. I didn't know what else to do." Her dad had not blamed her for it. But maybe this Theo would. "I only knew the ritual because a very wicked man lied to me and manipulated me. He's... one of the Theos that haven't been so nice to me."

[starkitxxz]

Apricity

(noun) The warmth of the sun in winter

Sol x gn!reader

Day 2 spoilers!

I HAD TO RECHECK EVERY PARAGRAPH FOR THIS AND IM PROBABLY GOING TO MAKE PART 2 ONCE I GET PROPER SLEEP

ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE <33

(Thank you for the votes in the poll btw i love yalll😚😚)

Word count: 1.5k+

“It’s covered in snow,” Sol’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the rooftop covered in a pile of fluffy snow, despite the sun emitting light above. He adjusted his scarf while Hyugo rubbed his chin, pondering whether or not they should return inside.

However, they didn’t want to hang out in the cafeteria.

Loud noises and huge crowds were something Sol disliked greatly. No matter how snuggly the room is because of the heater, Hyugo wants his best friend to feel comfortable. He's Sol’s only best friend.

“We can just sweep it off from the bench,” Hyugo suggested as he approached their usual spot, brushing the flakes of snow away with his gloved hands.

You and Sol stood there, hesitating whether or not you both want to sit on the bench around the cold, snow filled area. As much as you don’t want to stay and possibly succumb to hypothermia, your stomach growled in hunger. You don’t have a choice, unless you want to witness another possible food fight happening in the cafeteria.

And neither did Sol want to witness that.

“Are you two going to stand there or eat?” Hyugo asks as he grows impatient, wanting to munch on Sol’s lunch that he made for him, just like what Sol promised… Since Hyugo (purposely) forgot his lunch.

You both sat beside each other next to Hyugo. You shiver from how cold it is, despite wearing the coziest accessory you can find. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep you warm, due to the fact that you forgot your scarf at your apartment.

Maybe if you searched through your closet once more, you will find something warmer than a scarf.

Sol on the other hand, opened his lunch box. Your mouth watered at the sight of his meal, and you were not the only one admiring it.

“Sunny! Why didn’t you tell me you made these?” Hyugo’s eyes lit up in delight, ready to fill his starving stomach.

Delicious small chocolate chip brownies adorned with a strawberry each and white icing sat on his container. Carefully made into perfection, displaying a scrumptious treat before you.

You took notice of the strawberries representing cute Santa hats, judging from the little icing on top.

Hyugo reached out to take one, earning a glare from Sol, but he let him do so.

He nibbled on the treat, and a satisfied ‘Mmm’ came out of his mouth.

Sol’s eyes widen slightly in surprise as Hyugo takes another brownie.

“Mmm, [reader] you should try it! It’s so good!” Hyugo said as he swallowed his first brownie, proceeding to nibble on the second one.

Curious, you take one from the container and try it, holy shit.

You can taste the chocolatey goodness from the brownie, as well as the ripe sweetness of the strawberry. It melted in your mouth as you chewed it.

“Sol, this is delicious!” You praised, taking another portion from the lunchbox. You can’t help but wonder, how does he manage to make his lunch so mouthwatering?

It was like he has been training for years to cook irresistibly appetizing treats. Cut and cooked perfectly like the carrots for homemade curry that one night. It was so scrumptious.

You can’t seem to remember much from that moment, but you definitely need to take cooking notes from him.

Hyugo took 2 brownies and munched on them, like a little kid feasting on sugary cookies that had been left for Santa to eat.

Sol grabbed one for himself and bit on his creation, pleased by what he made when he couldn’t sleep earlier. He made sure it’s all perfect and appetizing for you.

And why can't he earn enough rest for himself? He was busy stalking you.

“Mm, not bad,” He mumbled as he savored the sweet and acidic taste of the strawberry.

Not much time has passed and the container is already empty. The cold breeze was hitting your skin once more. You turned your gaze to Hyugo, eating the last piece of the chocolate chip brownie.

“You should really make more of these,” Hyugo said with food in his mouth, eventually swallowing it.

“So you can eat off my budget?”

“Hey, I have duties, you know?” Hyugo frowned

“Whatever” Sol packed his lunch box and sighed, his attention focused on you as you drank your water bottle.

“If you brought those for the winter party, I would finish it all.” You said with a grin, holding the nearly empty plastic water bottle in your gloved hand.

Hyugo nodded, “I agree, It’s a great snack for us and the guests!”

You know he will make the best Christmas themed brownies for the party. A little persuading won’t hurt. After all, you love what he cooks and bakes.

“Please Sol? I will really appreciate it and you know I can’t resist your delicious treats”

A sigh escaped Sol’s mouth, complying to your wishes. He will never deny you and your cravings for food. He loves to make food for you.

He’d do anything for you.

Anything. For his one and only soulmate.

Another gust of cool air made contact with your skin, a cold and numbing sensation filled you.

You looked up and saw soft hail falling from the gray skies above. Amidst the cloudy skies and snowfall, the luminous sun remained shining. A fascinating phenomenon.

You reached a hand out, catching a snowflake in your palm.

“It’s snowing again,” Hyugo uttered as he looked up as well

Sol stared at the snowy view of cities, roads, and cars. Sidewalks covered with a pile of snow, street lamps filling the town with warm light, and local stores selling candy canes and gingerbread cookies.

It all made you homesick, hoping to celebrate and experience Christmas with your family. Maybe one day, you’ll finally pay off their debt.

A snowflake landed on Sol’s lap, shaped beautifully and remarkably unique. As more snow piled up, your teeth began to chatter from the freezing temperature. Looks like you’re gonna need an extra layer of clothes and scarves soon.

Unexpectedly, soft black fabric wrapped around your torso. A wave of warmth fueled your body, keeping you safe from the bitterly cold weather.

You glance at your side and to your surprise, Sol turns his head away from you. His face flushed as his body tensed from the generous act he did. Hyugo gave you both a side-eye, deciding to stay quiet.

He found it too cheesy.

“Thank you, you really don’t have to thou-”

Sol cut you off, “No, I insist,” facing you with a gentle smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, keep it if you like” a smile appeared on his face, his red-orange eyes gazing at you lovingly.

You catched a whiff of his cologne from the jacket he offered, a scent that made you feel so comfortable. You can’t help but wish to smell it again–

Puff.

An audible soft puff was heard from the snowball thrown at Sol’s cheek by the blue haired guy. A playful grin on his face as another snowball is thrown directly at your face, hitting your temple.

Hyugo earned a piercing glare from Sol, before he stood up and knelt on one knee. Gathering a clump of snow, forming it into a snowball.

Hyugo immediately knew what he was about to do, so then he announced:

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

At the rooftop, you decided to join them, hitting both Sol and Hyugo with snowballs. Although, you were met with the cold and stinging sensation of snow as they threw snow at you as well.

Sol and Hyugo threw clumps of snow at each other, and you were on Sol’s side. Hyugo frowned at the unfair setup against him, balls of snow hitting his face and clothes. Luckily no one is going to scold anyone here on the rooftop.

The game did not last as the teacher found you, Sol, and Hyugo on the rooftop, throwing snowballs at each other.

Unlucky you, accidentally throwing one at the teacher themself. Guaranteed a pass to the principal’s office.

Yet, at the end of the day, the trio skipped their next class and drank warm hot chocolate at a cozy cafe nearby.

You kept the jacket on the way home, and whenever you would try to give it back to Sol, he insisted. "Keep it to stay warm," he said.

In reality, he desires to see you sleep with it whenever he visits you at midnight.

[BONUS]

“Ugh, why is it so cold?” Brittney complained as she rubbed both of her arms, earning the temporary heat of friction.

Her sweater was folded neatly on the table, stained with fresh mushroom soup from the food fight earlier. Damn it, she muttered. Cursing that one random dude for causing this.

“The heater might've broken down again,” a sigh escaped Crowe’s lips. “It’ll be fixed soon, I hope…”

Geo scoffed, “Yeah no, someone unintentionally threw food at it”

Crowe’s frustration grew, his brows knitted as he wore a pair of gloves

He’s right, the heater got a food blockage. Thanks to another immature idiot who kept throwing chunks of their pudding at different areas in the place. Staining the walls, floor, and students clothes

Jess sat beside Brittney and Crowe, quietly reading a book she bought a few days ago. Unbothered by the freezing temperature, the earmuffs and extra layer of clothing helped her a lot.

“I wonder where [reader] and their new friends are-”

“I SAW [READER] AND THEIR LUNCH BUDDIES ENTER THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE!” yelled Deryl as he bursted into the room, earning the attention of other students.

“WHAT?!” The group exclaimed.

To be continued…?

[withahappyrefrain]

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible. 

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell,  he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that.  He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar. 

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop? 

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing. 

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one. 

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that. 

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him. 

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door.  You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves. 

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine. 

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes. 

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night. 

This was bad. 

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work. 

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck. 

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room. 

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke. 

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down. 

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday.  It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you. 

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship. 

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough. 

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote. 

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and- 

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and- 

Oh God he was hard. Oh no. 

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it. 

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans. 

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows. 

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.   

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink. 

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious. 

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make  your own family. 

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.  

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath. 

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly. 

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then. 

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different. 

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together. 

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch. 

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts. 

 It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed. 

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse. 

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen. 

For a few seconds, the  supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach. 

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen. 

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point. 

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect. 

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life. 

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow. 

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn. 

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.    

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-" 

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen. 

The words hit Bob like a freight train. 

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?” 

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?" 

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you. 

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him. 

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot. 

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant. 

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other. 

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.” 

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up. 

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?” 

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it. 

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?” 

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his. 

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone. 

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again. 

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap. 

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk. 

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more. 

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest. 

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass. 

Wait, he was about to touch your ass. 

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face. 

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart. 

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.” 

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes. 

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core. 

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty. 

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck? 

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams- 

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open. 

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.” 

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings. 

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face. 

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating). 

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life. 

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you. 

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd? 

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement. 

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully. 

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control. 

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath. 

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you were wet. 

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream. 

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time. 

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure. 

Wait, was he grinding against the couch? 

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud. 

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening. 

“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now. 

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority. 

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even. 

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you. 

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you. 

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.” 

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you. 

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons. 

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock. 

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-” 

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter. 

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it. 

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more. 

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before. 

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch. 

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait. 

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans. 

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected. 

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion. 

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words. 

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.” 

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this  was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob. 

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience. 

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving. 

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton. 

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest. 

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment. 

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you. 

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

[steddieas-shegoes]

what about dessert?

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'dessert'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated t | 722 words | cw: eddie has some anxiety about being a good dad | tags: established relationship, surrogacy, fluff

🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

While they weren’t the ones actually having a baby, Steve and Eddie take Chrissy’s advice and decide to go on a babymoon before their new addition is here. Rory is at a friend’s house, and they’re at a nice dinner, enjoying steaks and scallops and the best truffle macaroni and cheese their money can buy.

“Do you think it’s weird that we’re doing this?” Eddie asks. “We aren’t the ones who are pushing a baby out of our bodies.”

“No, but we are the ones who will have absolutely no free time when the baby is here,” Steve responds with his mouth half full. The food is good, okay?

“Did you do this when you had Rory?” Eddie asks cautiously, maybe already knowing the answer.

“No,” Steve laughs. “Getting Elizabeth away from work would’ve been impossible. I didn’t even try.”

Eddie doesn’t let his sadness over what Steve had to go through linger, not now when they’re supposed to be enjoying this time together. He does let some of the anger sit in his chest, though. He may never completely let the anger go, even if Steve insists he should.

“I’m kinda nervous,” Eddie admits. It’s not the first time he’s said it. He’s been nervous the entire time. Sure, he’s helped raise Rory for the last few years, but she was already past the hardest parts. This is new territory for him. “I don’t know how you did any of this alone.”

“Well, no one is really completely alone, ya know? I had Robin after a while. And neighbors and friends once were here. And I was part of a single parent group when she was a toddler. You’re gonna be just fine, baby,” Steve explains before taking another bite.

He doesn’t seem nervous at all, but that’s probably because he’s done this before. He’s changed diapers and had to stay up all night with a sick baby and had to kiss boo boos.

“Are you worried?”

“About having a baby?” Steve asks, finally dropping his fork and giving Eddie all his attention.

“Just…I mean I know I won’t be bad at it. I guess I just worry that I won’t be good enough for you. You’re kind of a superhero dad.”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find something to say.

“Are you interested in any dessert this evening?” Their waitress interrupts.

She’s smiling down at them, but quickly seems to sense the tension, and drops the smile slowly.

Eddie smiles back at her, though. “We’d love a piece of the chocolate cheesecake, please.”

The waitress gives him a quick smile and nod, and quickly leaves the table.

“Why would you think you aren’t good enough for me?” Steve asks.

“You just…you’re you. You’re so great at being a dad. It’s so easy for you and I think I’ll have to try a lot harder to be even okay at it. It’s not gonna be as natural for me.”

“Eddie, you’re gonna be great. You already are with Rory.”

Eddie’s phone vibrates in his pocket, but he assumes it’s probably just a couple of texts coming through. Service at the restaurant has been spotty.

“I just-”

It’s not texts, it’s definitely a call.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

“Robin’s calling.” Steve nods to tell him to answer it. “Hey. What? Okay. Wait. And she’s- okay. Well, we just ordered dessert, but-” Eddie pales. “Right. Be there as soon as we can.”

Steve is already waving over the nearest staff, asking for the bill even though he didn’t hear the other side of the conversation.

“But our dessert…” Eddie says instead of telling him anything about the phone call.

“I’ll get you a cheesecake at the hospital,” Steve smirks.

“How’d you know Chrissy’s in labor?”

“Because you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Good point.”

Steve stands and grabs his hand, tugging him to his feet as the waitress comes rushing over with the bill.

“You ready to be the best dad?” Steve asks.

“Only if you’re with me.”

“I boxed up your dessert!” The waitress exclaims, handing Eddie a box and Steve the bill. “I hope everything is okay!”

Steve quickly adds a tip and signs the receipt, smiling at her as he hands it back over.

“Everything is perfect.”