#and it turned out to be a really nice walk

[trashsuit]

Fuck y'all, I'm answering all of these right here, right now (if you want me to elaborate, put it in my asks)

1. River (I go by my middle name online)

2. 17, turning 18 in a few months

3. June 9 2007

4. Gemini

5. Light purple

6. 3 and 82

7. Yes, 3 cats. A calico (I think) named Millie, a light brown tortie named Marley, and a dark brown tortie named Mischief

8. Pennsylvania

9. 5'4

10. 9

11. Idk, 5-10 if I had to guess

12. I can't remember any of my dreams

13. Uh, I have talents in most of the arts, I think. I act, I sing, I play piano and guitar, and I draw and paint

14. I don't think so

15. Changes every week. Right now? Maybe Hug All Ur Friends by Cavetown

16. I don't really watch many movies, but probably Wicked

17. I'm aroace, but I'd love to live with a good friend who doesn't mind stuff like hugs and cuddles

18. Absolutely not

19. Even if I wasn't aroace, no

20. No

21. I got brain surgery when I was a few months old, but nothing since then

22. Not yet :3

23. Uh, does the actor who played The Wizard when I saw Wicked on Broadway count?

24. I prefer showers for actually cleaning myself, but I love a nice, relaxing bath

25. All of the above

26. No

27. Probably not, but I'd like to be the kind of celebrity who's only known by theatre kids and just about no one else

28. I listen to a lot of musical theatre and indie pop

29. No

30. 2, not counting stuffed animals

31. Yearner or free faller with one leg over my long stuffed animal

32. Medium, I think

33. Pillsbury strawberry cream cheese mini bagels that my school serves

34. No

35. No, but I want to

36. Skedaddle

37. Ass is one of my favorite insults

38. No clue, I usually take a lot of naps

39. Yes, across the top of my head

40. Yes I think, but his friend just tried to wingman for him, like, twice, then I was left alone

41. It depends on the lie and who I'm lying to

42. Fuck no, I don't realize people are hurting me until I'm bleeding out.

43. Yeah, I've learned through my acting class

44. I don't think so, but I've also never really left the area I grew up in enough to notice

45. I like doing a southern drawl

46. Idk what the personality types are and I don't feel like checking rn

47. By far my prom dress from last year. Most of my clothes are thrifted or from Walmart

48. Yes

49. What?

50. Right

51. Yes

52. My mom makes really good potato pancakes

53. Idk what it was called, but I had it in Japan. It was some meatballs with veggies and a really good sauce. Here's a picture (it's the stuff by the eggs)

54. Definitely messy

55. You freak/y'all freaks

56. Either fuck or freak, tbh

57. 10-15 minutes most days (if that)

58. I don't think so

59. Suck

60. Yes

61. Yes

62. I'm alright, but I'm improving with the help of a teacher

63. Probably my best friend leaving me. She's the reason I've stuck around this long, idk what I would do without her

64. Yeah

65. I genuinely can't think of one

66. I like my hair nice and short

67. *sings the 50 states song*

68. Art or history (my favorite class I take is actually theatre, but I don't think it counts)

69. It feels like it depends on the day and who I'm around

70. No

71. Almost everything, if I'm being honest (except for acting, alone or in front of a crowd)

72. Not really

73. Not really, I don't even correct people on my pronouns (I probably should tho)

74. I don't think I am

75. I don't think so, usually if I say something, I genuinely believe it, so if I did, it wasn't intentional

76. No and I don't wanna be

77. Like one sip of wine and I thought it was disgusting

78. No

79. I'm aroace, so no one

80. I have both of my earlobes pierced once and nothing else

81. Yeah

82. Not very, I'm faster on my phone than on an actual keyboard tho

83. In short bursts, like 7 mph, but I can't run a mile, I have to walk

84. Naturally, dark brown, but right now it's blue with streaks of purple

85. Hazel

86. Bactrim and possibly the sticky stuff in bandaids (I think it's latex)

87. I've tried and failed multiple times

88. My dad's a truck driver

89. It's alright, I mostly like it for theatre stuff

90. Id have to think. I'm easily annoyed or frustrated, but it takes a lot to piss me off

91. Yeah, though I kinda regret choosing such a common name. I know, like, 6 other people with my name

92. No

93. Idk, probably just a happy, healthy kid if I ever had one. I don't really care about its sex

94. Seeing the good in people

95. How trusting I am and how I try to see the good in people (that's how I keep getting hurt)

96. I kept going through baby name sites and for some reason, I really liked this one

97. No

98. Yeah, from ear to ear on top of my head

99. All of the above

100. The walls are a very light purple, but you'll find every color in there

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

[strang3lov3]

Soap

“What’s the point in washin’ ya if you’re just gonna make a mess of yourself?” Joel taunts, finding your cunt slick with arousal. “Tsk. Can’t send ya to class like that, huh? Y’gonna let your daddy take care of it?”

WARNINGS - one shot, smut, dubcon, dad!joel, incest - if game of thrones could do it, so can i so fuck off about it. girthy age gap but reader is an adult. daddy kink (tho idk if it counts when he’s your father, but whatever) fingering, little bit of a handjob, inappropriate use of a shower head, unprotected piv, cream pie. uncle tommy mention 😈 This is icky. You have been warned. Reminder that fiction is not real life.

A/N - OKAY GAMERS. Fuckin'...thank you guys??? for being so stoked about this little haphazardly put together drabble about dad!joel?? blown away. so flattered. so touched. I'm really fucking excited to write more of this shiny new kink for all of us perverts, and i plan to turn that drabble that started this whole thing into a whole ass fic. just had to get this out of my system because you all know how much i love shower/bath sex lol. and thank you so much to this anon!! i loved your ideas so much and i had fun incorporating them into this fic. @tofics, you know what you did. thank you for the beta hunny ♡

It’s 6am when Joel wakes up to that awful, high pitched beep of his alarm. Eyes closed, he slams it with the heel of his palm, and exhales sharply through his nose. At least it’s Thursday, he thinks. More than halfway through the week. 

He groans softly as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and his sheets are warm against his body.  He inhales deeply as he stretches, and smells the warm, nutty aroma of the coffee maker brewing a pot downstairs that coaxes him up with the promise of caffeine. Joel stands up then, and his skin is covered in goosebumps from the cool morning air nipping at his skin. His graying, dark, curly hair sticks up in six different directions, a mess he’ll take care of later. 

He walks first to the bathroom, and turns on the shower to warm up. Then to your bedroom, where he quietly opens your door. Joel chuckles seeing you asleep on your stomach, ass hanging out of your sleep shorts with a sliver of morning light pouring over your body. You’re clutching your pillow tightly, drooling onto the mattress as you snore gently. 

Joel crouches down and pushes some hair out of your face. “G’morning, sunshine,” he murmurs against your scalp, in between pressing kisses to the top of your head. “S’time to wake up.” 

“Mmm…no,” you mumble groggily. 

“Mmm…yes,” Joel drags the word out, mimicking your sleepy, whiny tone. 

You scrunch your nose, but otherwise don’t move a muscle. “Just give me - just five more minutes, please, Dad. Go have your coffee or whatever.” 

“Cute,” Joel says. “Up an’ at ‘em, lazy ass. Y’got school today.” You groan loudly, and your dramatics make Joel chuckle. “Oh, I know, kiddo.” 

You open one eye to glare at him, vision blurred by your sleepiness. “You do not. You have no idea how awful 8 AM classes are,” you argue, swatting away Joel’s hand as he digs his fingers into your sides and your neck, tickling you. “And my professor is such a - st - stop,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Your professor’s such a what, now?” Joel continues teasing until you’re wide awake and fighting him away, your protests turning into laughter. “Tell me, baby girl. Use your words.” 

 “D-Dad, I’m getting up, okay?” you huff. And you do, in fact, sit up. Joel’s tickle method of waking you up always pisses you off, but at least it jolts your system wide awake. Works like a charm. 

“I really hate you sometimes, Dad.”

“Uh huh. Love you too, kiddo.” Joel takes your hand as you sit up, pulling you off of your bed. Your hair’s a mess and there’s a pillow crease on your face, and you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Get your ass in the shower, alright?” He tells you, “Should be nice and warm.”

You take off for the bathroom, and the bright, warm lights stab at your tired eyes. You move slowly as you peel off your pajamas, tossing them haphazardly into a hamper that’s too full. You’ll have to get that in the washer before your dad notices. 

You tug the shower curtain and test the water on your wrist, then twist the knob of the shower until the water runs just under boiling. You step into the tub, then let the hot water run through your hair and down your body, and it makes your skin burn and tingle in the best way. Steam rises around you and clouds your vision a little, makes the air you breathe thick and tingle your sinuses.

The door opens and in comes Joel, flipping on the switch that turns on the bathroom fan. “Dad!” you yelp, covering yourself with the curtain. 

“Oh relax, would ya?” Joel says, pushing his boxers down his legs.  He steps out of them, then joins you in the tub. “I’ve seen it all before, sweetheart.” 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, turning away from him. 

Joel reaches over you for his toothbrush and toothpaste, then squeezes a little bit onto the bristles before wetting the toothbrush under the stream. “We’re conservin’ water,” he answers. “‘Cause the water bill was too fuckin’ high last month, thanks to you. You’re bleedin’ me dry, kid.” Joel begins brushing his teeth, lathering the toothpaste in his mouth. It drips down his chin and chest, landing in his mess of graying pubic hair. His cock is half hard already. 

“I’ll shower quickly,” you insist. “Just–”

“Just nothin’. I can’t trust ya, baby. We’re outta here in fifteen minutes,” he says, voice muffled by the toothpaste. “Not a minute longer.”

“Twenty,” you bargain. “There is no way I can shower in fifteen minutes.” 

Joel eyes you as he finishes brushing his teeth, then leans over you and spits out the toothpaste into the drain. “I’ll give ya seventeen, princess. Final offer.” 

You roll your eyes, and hum a quiet okay. You reach behind yourself to point the showerhead back down at you, then turn up the heat a little more. “Nuh-uh,” Joel says, turning the heat down to about halfway between cold and hot, an excruciatingly lukewarm temperature. “Quit tryin’ to boil yourself alive, baby.”  

“I’m not trying to boil myself. I’m–” you reach for the knob to warm up the shower again, but Joel swats your hand away and gives you a warning look. “Seriously? It’s fucking freezing, Dad.”

“It’s fine,” he says, then reaches for your toothbrush. “And watch your mouth.” He squeezes a bit of toothpaste onto the toothbrush, then watches you brush your teeth. You make a silly smile at him, toothpaste dripping out from between your teeth. “Oh, nice. Charming, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically. “Y’got your daddy’s smile, you know.” 

“I know.” 

After spitting your toothpaste out and rinsing your mouth, you stand under the water, shivering a little. You rest your head against the tile wall, letting your eyes close as the rushing water lulls you into a groggy haze. 

“Hey,” Joel says, startling you a little. “Don’t jus’ stand there, kid. Wash up. Y’got twelve minutes left.” 

“But I’m so cold,” you whine.

“Well c’mere then, drama. Quit your cryin’ an’ hug on Daddy if you’re so damn cold.” Joel drags you by the wrist to him, pulling you in close for a hug. You melt against him, savoring his warmth and the scent of his skin. It’s so masculine, so comforting, and you close your eyes. Joel kisses the top of your head, then rests his chin there. He can’t believe how tall you are now. How womanly you are. All he did was blink, Jesus Christ. 

He remembers bath nights with you in this very tub. The Crayola bath crayons, all the other silly toys you loved. He can almost smell the Johnson’s baby soap and the tear-free Suave green apple scented shampoo.

Still holding you close with one arm, Joel reaches for the bar of soap, decorated by his beard trimmings from two days ago. With his free hand, he lathers the bar, and then washes you with both of his hands, his palms sliding all up and down the smooth skin of your back. He washes your ass cheeks too, and between your cheeks. “I can do that myself,” you mumble, face heating up. 

“Mhm. Back up a little,” he murmurs, putting a little distance between you and him. He cleans underneath your armpits, then massages down your arms with his big, strong, soapy hands. Torso is next, and his palms slip and slide over your soap-covered tits, thumbs circling your nipples. He works his way down, and washes you between your thighs. Your breath hitches at feeling his fingers slipping through your folds, dragging over your clit. 

“Daddy,” you moan.

He circles the sensitive part of you a little, loving the way your knees buckle and how you wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability. “Easy, baby,” he tells you, “I gotcha.”

He’s always got you. Always there to catch you before you fall, or to pick you up and kiss your bruises when you do. It’s what being a dad’s all about, right? Looking out for his baby girl. 

“What’s the point in washin’ ya if you’re just gonna make a mess of yourself?” Joel taunts, finding your cunt slick with arousal. “Tsk. Can’t send ya to class like that, huh? Y’gonna let your daddy take care of it?”

“Yeah,” you nod, burying your head into his neck as he rubs your clit. His cock is hardening further, the head throbbing against your thigh. “Please, Dad.” 

Joel nods silently, and pushes two fingers into you. He groans at the way you squeeze and clench around him, how your cunt pulses when he strokes at his favorite spot inside of you. You whine when he pulls his fingers from you, but he quiets your complaints with a soft kiss, tongue melding with yours as he reaches for the showerhead with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist so he can squeeze at the soft flesh of your ass. 

Joel warms up the temperature of the water, then turns the shower head onto its jet stream mode. He wriggles the shower head between your bodies and directs the stream to your clit. 

“T-too hot,” you say urgently. “That’s too hot.” 

“Huh. Thought you were jus’ tellin’ me you wanted a hot shower,” he taunts, smirking against you. “You’ll get used to it, baby.”

Joel takes one of your hands and guides it lower, then wraps your fingers around his length. You pump him slowly as he keeps the shower head at your cunt, drawing the steady stream up and down your seam. He moves his wrist in gentle circles, using that motion to simulate how he’d rub your clit with his fingertips. You moan against his wet skin, squeezing his shaft when he finds your sensitive spot. 

Joel pulls the shower head away from your cunt when he thinks you’re about to cum, and by the sound of your whines, he knows he was right. Of course he’s right. He knows his daughter like the back of his hand. 

“Daaaad,” you moan. 

He pays you no mind as he twists the shower head back into place above you. He backs you against the wall and hooks one of your legs over his hip, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He thrusts into you in one go, causing you to gasp and throw your head back onto the tile. 

“Woah, easy, kiddo. Be careful. Let me see,” he groans, drawing out of you. He kisses the part of your head you hit, or at least as close to that place as he can, then holds his hand against the wall to keep you from hitting yourself again. Before thrusting back into you, he looks down at his dick, and the creamy rings of your arousal are quickly rinsed away by the running water. He pushes back into you. 

“Oh my god, Dad,” you moan, feeling Joel bury himself into you, all the way to the hilt. It’s an impossibly full feeling, impossibly tight. It’s comforting and sickening, all at one time.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel grunts, pulling out of you again. “Your daddy fits so nice in ya. Like you were made for it,” he winks, a twisted smile playing at his lips. Like he made you for it.

Joel sets the pace then, fucking in and out of you deeply. The tip of his cock kisses against your cervix as you writhe in pleasure, held so securely by him. He bites and sucks gently at the flesh he knows no one else will see but him, marking you as his. His daughter. His girl. 

He watches you closely, admiring those pretty eyes he gave to you. Beads of water roll down his handsomely wrinkled skin, down the perfect slope of his nose. You clench down on him as he fucks you, eyes rolling back into your skull. 

Joel moans and presses his forehead against yours, fucking you in a hard, devastating rhythm. Pleasure washes through his body, and his cock is hard as it’s ever been. You squeeze him so deliciously nicely, and moan Dad so fucking pretty. 

Once again, Joel reaches for the shower head, and guides it toward your cunt as he fucks himself in and out of you. “Cum for Daddy, now,” he whispers. “Gonna be late to class.” 

With a little more thrusting - that intentional, practiced rolling of his hips Joel knows you love, you’re cumming. Making those cute little noises he loves so, squeezing at his bicep and shoulder as you stiffen and shudder. Joel watches closely as pleasure washes through you, guiding you through your release with his steady fucking. 

Only once he’s milked you of your release does Joel chase his own orgasm. He fucks you harder, quicker, and selfishly, with little regard for your comfort. He feels it in his balls first, that intense warmth and tingle. It rolls through his body, crawls up his spine as he kisses you, drinking in your moans of overstimulation. Once he’s filled you up, Joel eases you down and pulls out of you. The shower’s gone cold - so much for saving water.

Joel shuts the water off and gets out of the shower first, patting himself dry before wrapping that old, scratchy towel around his hips, belly spilling over the edge. Joel tosses your towel to you and catches the face you’re making, like you know something he doesn’t. 

“What,” he deadpans, combing his hair out. The strands at the bottom of his skull curl up and drip a bit of water still. “What’s the look for?”

“Nothing, Dad.”

“Tell me.” 

“It’s just…that was a long shower. I don’t know why you get mad at me for my long showers when–”

Joel cuts you off, “Because you ain’t the one payin’ the water bill, are ya?” Joel says. ‘An’ as long as you’re under my roof, you’re under my rules. Thought we were clear on that,” he says, his voice low and warning. You drop the argument. You leave the bathroom to pick out some clothes, then get dressed and head down to the kitchen. 

And so much for Joel not wanting to send you to class a mess - you’re dripping his cum as you take your seat in the passenger side of his truck, feeling the wet, sticky warmth as you lean over to the side to start the vehicle. While waiting for Joel, you draw a little star in the condensation on the glass. He says he hates when you do that, but he loves catching glimpses of your doodles on his way home from work, when the sun hits the glass just right.

Joel gets in the driver’s side, hair slicked back and smelling strongly of Old Spice deodorant. He lifts up a bit, then pulls out his wallet, and rifles through it for a couple of bills. “Eat breakfast at school,” he tells you, handing you the money. “An’ I want the change back.” 

You sigh. “I know, Dad.”

“An’ I’m gonna be busy with somethin’ today, so Uncle Tommy’s gonna pick ya up. Be good for him, alright? Maybe he’ll even take ya out for ice cream or somethin’.”

if you enjoyed, please reblog with something nice and disgusting or shout at me in my inbox ♡ your sweet words go a long way in keeping me motivated to write.

tagging friendos who fw dad!joel

@joeloverture @flowercrowns-goodvibes @thechaoticcherub @perpetuallymanic @shivispunk @beardedjoel @calmjoonie @taeslarityy @bean-is-reading @mushgloomz @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @io12n @oldloganslittleslut @highinmiamiii @nycweb-slinger @rottingr4ven @111melo @sagexsenorita @blooming-bubs @shortandderanged @sp00kymulderr @ickystickysap @ozarkthedog @cxrsed-angel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @pedge-page @bitchesuntitled @94namkooksworld @squeakymxsterbationcrock @max--phillips

[daryltwdixon]

Can I request some Joel Miller fluff? I thought about it being set when they're living in Jackson and Ellie finds an old Polaroid camera and she loves going around taking pictures. Joel being the usual grump he is gets annoyed at it and usually dismisses as being stupid. One day reader and Joel are sitting on the porch of their shared house, reader being curled up in Joel's embrace, her back pressed to his chest as they stare out into the setting sun and Ellie snaps a picture at that. Joel is just about to be his annoying self when he sees the picture and his heart melts. "I like that one" is all he says before putting the picture on his pocket, taking it with him wherever he goes 🥹❤️❤️

Joel Miller x Reader I Like This One

fluffy, grumpy jackson!joel, sassy/sunshine reader, establshed relationship, soft!joel (don't tell him I said that), Ellie Being a Menace™, domestic fluff a/n: thank you for your sweet request! i did shorten it a tad but hope you enjoy! im in my feels when it comes to being domestic w this man request masterlist

The porch was your favorite place in Jackson—the wooden boards warm from the day’s sun, the gentle creak of the swing beneath you, and, of course, Joel, his solid frame a comforting weight behind you. His arms rested lazily around your waist as the two of you rocked in slow, rhythmic motions, the quiet hum of an early evening settling around you.

"You're quiet tonight," Joel murmured, his voice rough and low as his chin tucked into the crook of your neck, "S'the same kinda quiet you get when you're schemin’ somethin’," Joel murmured, his voice low and knowing.

You smirked, tilting your head back slightly to say over your shoulder, "I don’t scheme, Miller. I make well-calculated decisions."

Joel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "That so?"

"Mhm," you hummed, "Like how I calculated that if I pestered you long enough, you'd finally come around and see me for the catch I am."

"No need for pesterin' there. I always knew, darlin'." his eyes are soft as ever as he looks down at you, a smile spreading around his lips.

"Well," you teased, nudging his cheek lightly with your nose, "still took you a while to get the hint."

He exhaled, the sound coming out more like a resigned sigh, "Reckon I just didn't understand why you wanted an old man like me is all."

"Joel," you murmured, shaking your head gently, twisting to fully look at him, "you really don't get it? After all this time?"

His lips parted slightly, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

You smiled though, warm and certain as your hand came up to his jaw, the scratchy beard tickling your palm, "I didn’t choose you in spite of anything. I chose you because you’re you."

Joel didn’t respond right away—just looked at you, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against your hip.

"Though," you began, smile turning playful all the sudden, "I did notice how you were always hanging around back then, all quiet and brooding."

His brow lifted. "Broodin’?"

"Mhm," you teased, a knowing twinkle in your eye. "I knew you liked me before you even admitted it."

Joel smirked, shaking his head in that exasperated, fond way he always did when you got him like this. His fingers brushed lightly along your ribs, making you twitch, and you batted his hand away with a breathless laugh—

Click.

The sound made Joel flinch so badly it could've been a gunshot, and you both turned toward the source.

Ellie stood a few feet away, grinning like she just won the damn lottery, Polaroid camera in hand.

"Gotcha," she chirped, waving the developing photo in the air.

Joel groaned. "Ellie—"

"Don't even start, old man," she shot back, smug. "That was the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. The way you two were looking at each other? Gross. But even I can admit it was still nice."

Your laughter bubbled up before you could stop it, your head falling back against Joel’s chest. "Let's see it then." you prompted.

Ellie walked up the porch steps and handed over the photo. Joel took it begrudgingly, barely sparing it a glance—until he actually looked.

The Polaroid had captured the moment in a way you hadn’t even realized. The way you were smiling up at him, eyes bright and full of something deep, something undeniable. But it was his expression that stopped you—the gentle softness in his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that had ever truly mattered.

"Well?" Ellie prompted, rocking on her heels. "You gonna admit that I captured the moment of the century?"

Joel exhaled, shaking his head. Then, without a word, he slipped the Polaroid into his pocket.

Ellie’s eyes widened. "Hey— what the hell?! I’m trying to document history, and you’re out here stealing precious artifacts!"

Joel shot her a flat look. "Ain’t stealin’ if it’s my picture."

"Your picture? I took it! That makes it mine!"

"Well, I like this one," he said simply, "So I’m keepin’ it."

Ellie groaned dramatically. "Unbelievable. You can’t just—ugh! Whatever. Enjoy your stolen treasure, ya big sap."

Joel ignored her, wrapping his arms around you again, his chin settling back atop your head like nothing had happened.

Ellie pointed at him accusingly as she began walking away. "I knew it. You’re a sap. A full-blown, grade-A sap."

"Go bother someone else, Ellie," Joel muttered.

She groaned, stomping her feet and walking down the road into the warm evening.

"You're such a grump," you giggled after she was out of sight, swatting his arm as it lay across your chest.

Joel huffed, but there was no real bite to it. His fingers flexed around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm startin' to think you like that about me," he said after a moment, voice quieter now.

"That so?"

"Mmmhmm," he hummed, his lips brushing your temple as he moved to kiss your hair. "You girls like givin’ me a hard time."

You tilted your head just enough to look up at him, grinning. "Can't speak for Ellie—I think she likes pushin' your buttons ‘cause you make the funniest faces when you're annoyed. But I happen to think you’re cute when you’re all flustered."

Joel scoffed, shaking his head. "Ain't never been flustered a day in my life."

You snorted. "Oh, please. Remember when I walked in on you tryin’ to fix the sink and you were swearin’ so much I thought you were conjurin’ a demon?"

Joel groaned. "That ain't flustered, that’s just a normal reaction to goddamn terrible plumbing."

"Mhmm. And what about that time I called you handsome in front of Maria and you got all red—"

Joel huffed, cutting you off with a firm kiss. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips pressed against yours, warm and insistent.

You made a muffled sound of protest—more out of principle than anything—before melting into it, your fingers curling into his shirt.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth barely ghosting over yours, his voice was low, rough with amusement. "There. That shut you up."

You blinked up at him, dazed, before narrowing your eyes. "You can't just kiss me every time I start winning an argument."

Joel smirked. "Sure I can. Seemed pretty effective."

You scoffed, "Unbelievable."

He just hummed, clearly pleased with himself, before dipping down again—pressing another slow, lingering kiss to your lips, then one to your jaw, then your neck, lazy and unhurried like he had all the time in the world.

"Love you, sweet girl." he murmured after the last kiss to the top of your shoulder.

"Love you too." Then, after a moment, you chuckled. "Ellie's never gettin' that picture back, is she?"

"Not in a million years," he sighed, patting the pocket of his shirt where the photo stayed—carried with him for years, transferred from shirt to shirt, pocket to pocket, long after the edges curled and the gloss had worn away.

[girliism]

pervert!reader who’s friends with her dormitory’s ra that has the key to every room meaning you also had the key to every room, so making a copy of art’s key was a simple task. you never really used it until now when you had return a pair of his underwear you took last week during one of your study sessions. art had left you alone in his room to get snacks from the vending machine down the hall. you couldn’t stop yourself from rifling through his top drawer and pulling out a pair of fresh boxers, and slipping them into your backpack. your wore them around your room and to some of your classes. you’d lay on your back in your bed, walking your fingers along the waist band before sliding your hand into them. you spent a week making a mess of his underwear, but you were nice enough to wash them before placing them back in his drawer. you were only supposed to put them back and leave, but art’s unmade, messy bed was practically calling your name. so you laid on it. putting your head where his would go, his scent immediately invades your senses and let out a sigh pushing your face into his pillow. you wonder if he jerked off in this bed, how many girls had he brought back here and fucked in this bed. soon you were unzipping your jeans and pushed them off your legs. you let out a low moan when you while you worked circles on your clothed cunt. your mind began to wander, imagining that it wasn’t your own hand bringing you pleasure but art himself. you imagined his rough hands all over your body, touching and rubbing you in all the right places. “a-art.” you moaned into his pillow. taking his other one and slipped it in between your legs, you humped your clit against the fabric of his pillow. images of art on the tennis court dripping in sweat, sometimes shirtless, flooded you mind. you could hear his grunts from the how hard he would hit the ball so vividly as if he was in the room with you. fucking you. “oh my god, oh fuck!” your eyes rolled back and your hips rolled harder down into the pillow, murmurings of his name fell from your lips. you moan into his pillow as you orgasm rushed through you. catching your breath, you moved to lay of your back. you turned to eye the picture art had on his nightstand of him and his friend patrick. it looked like it was taking a while ago, but he still look as beautiful as ever. your finger lightly traced over his face in the picture. closing your eyes you imagining he was laying right next to you and it wasn’t a picture you were touching.

[cherie-doll]

hello again!! i just wanted to askk, could i possibly request how the cod men would be with a self-conscious reader? :3 thank you for the curly-haired!reader hcs btw those were so cutesy!!

I hope u have a nice day/night <3 - 🦇

lol im back and yea ofc! (omg i finally wrote and posted something, EVERYONE CLAP)

����♡𓆪 Headcanon: Being Self-Conscious Around Them

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He notices that anytime you're out, you glance at your reflection in every mirror or window you appear in, you always regret doing it, and he notices it when you fix your hair to cover your face a little more, or bringing your hoodie over your head

He switches the shopping bags he was using both hands to carry to only one hand, with his now free hand he brings an arm over you and pulls you into him, tucking you into his side

And when you look up at him, a soft breath condensing in the cold air as it escapes your lips, he just smiles warmly and reassuringly at you

His voice, low but thickly as he says your name, wanting your utmost attention, and your eyes find his, in the quietude of the street on that evening you did not turn to glance at your reflection again

It is easy to worry endlessly, to get lost in your thoughts of how people see you, of being aware of every flaw someone could see in you, but you're once again reminded why for one person in the world who's always by your side sees past them

Ghost

Sometimes it is very subtle things you don't like about yourself, not always easy to perceive or notice, but he notices how you feel, the way you carry yourself is different, maybe your shoulders a little more hunched as you try to hide

He doesn't say anything, but he knows something like holding your hand extra tight will have your spinning mind grounded again when you're in public

A chaste but rare peck on your forehead when you get home as he detangles from your fingers and walks off, leaving you surprised but feeling warm inside for it

He knows he's not the best at providing comfort, the man himself uses a balaclava every time he goes out, the real reason for wearing it still unknown but you could say he's just gotten used to not showing his face, so he can't exactly tell you to not hide or turn away if he himself does it

Still, he wanted to give you something to lean on, anything to give you a little bit of reassurance

Soap

He doesn't see why you would be so self-conscious, he loves everything about you, why wouldn't you too?

To be honest, he's never cared that much about his appearance, and he may not exactly be the best when it comes to words, but he's trying

He wants to show you that you shouldn't shy away from him, that he will continue to show you love even if you're hesitant and overly aware of yourself, to not let it get to you or affect how you treat one another

He hates hearing you say negative things about yourself, even if you're just pointing them out, because he truly doesn't see the flaws you think are there, he looks up at you endearingly as he kneels down, his hands on your hips as he tells you about how he first fell for you

And God, you can't get him to shut up once he starts, you'll be laughing and telling him he can stop now, that you get the point he's trying to make, but he refuses to stop talking, you will listen to hear him go on for at least another 30 minutes

Gaz

Those days where your self confidence isn't the best suck :(, especially if you feel like nothing else is really going right and on top of that you just don't feel your best

Kyle would just sense that something is off when you walk through the door, he looks up from where he's sitting and just the sight of him makes you rush into his arms the moment he opens them for you

He'd hold you as he gently strokes your hair, which has a most calming effect on you, making your brain go quiet, feeling how soft his fingertips are against your scalp as they gently caress between strands of hair, it is during this that he asks if there's anything bothering you, since it's been a while since you've had a deep conversation

Feeling like nothing can hold you back, the streams of words just flows, and he's there to only nod and listen as he wishes he could clutch you tighter to his chest and heal everything inside of you, it hurts him to see you like this

But after you've poured everything out to him, he hums quietly and parts from you a little, you raise your head to meet his eyes in confusion

"You really think that?" and he gives the most loving and adoring look you've ever seen him give you it just melts you from the inside

Roach

Honestly, he'd sulk noticing how much it affects you, because he loves the confident you, how charming you are when you hold your head high not letting the thoughts swarming in the murky waters of your mind get to you

He knows he might not be able to change how you perceive yourself, but he can try his best to offer his comfort, maybe you're lying in bed, trying to make peace with the thoughts inside your head, and here comes your boyfriend/husband to climb into bed with you

Slowing making his way towards you like a cat seeking attention, resting his head on your lap as he stares up at you with dreamy eyes admiring you, and you can't ignore him, you take his face in your hands and feel the urge to aggressively love him

His soft smile reminding you of how much he loves you, it momentarily makes you forget about everything, you've been too engrossed in your thoughts you forgot about the person who could erase your doubts even if it was for a moment

The tenderness in his eyes when he murmurs "I love you"

Alejandro

Alejandro is the best at excessive flattery, he does not pass up a moment to tell you how good you look, the problem is that's what he thinks, you're more worried about what your mind has to say and what others might think too

No matter how far down you try to push your thoughts, they just keep finding a way to resurface and make you feel awful, why do you even care so much? It feels like you should, everyone else feels so natural, you want to feel normal for once

Seeing how distressing it can be for you to the point you avoid certain things, Alejandro decides to take matters into his own hands

Telling you, "Who cares what anyone else thinks? It's what you and I think, and no matter what, I still feel the same way", you already know he'd go through extreme measures just to have you feeling like the luckiest person alive, everyone should be envying you for having what you have and you should look and feel it too

Rudy

You're always asking him, "How do I look?" and he will always answer with a smile and "You're beautiful cariño" except you don't believe it, especially when you asked for his jacket, you're not even cold but suddenly you don't like how you feel in your outfit, maybe the people passing by are snickering or laughing or noticing that there is something wrong with you

You just want to turn around and go back home where you can be at peace without the fear of judgement, but Rudy stops for a moment, sensing right away how you feel and asking if you really want to, he could take you back home and instead choose to do something else for the night

You nod yes and he doesn't hesitate in rearranging his plans, he centers his life around you anyways, and he'd rather take a raincheck for any other night than make you feel uncomfortable, he just cares endlessly about you

But he wishes he could find a way to make you see you like he does

Phillip Graves

Waiiitt I've literally entertained the idea of this with him before ;)

You staring into the mirror, unsatisfied with yourself until you're approached by Phillip from behind, him wrapping an arm around your waist, resting his head onto your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck, making you laugh softly

But he notices that sad look behind your eyes, your furrowed brows

No matter how much you try to bring it up to him, he will not let you get more than a sentence in before shaking his head, he doesn't want you to express anymore of those negative feelings, knowing that if you started you'd just go on until you started crying

He'd have you meet his gaze through the mirror, making you stare deep into his beautiful blue eyes asking if you truly trust him, if you nod yes, he'll tell you how he truthfully finds every part of you attractive, how alluring you've been from the first moment he laid eyes on you and how you should discard other people's thoughts

"You truly are the most stunning thing I've ever seen"

Makarov

He did find it strange how you'd gradually become quiet the longer you were around people, and then when you came back home you'd immediately go to the mirror and smile and practice different facial expressions in front of it

When he asks you what you're doing, you simply wave him away, you're only trying to see what you looked like when you were talking to people, did you really look like that? And suddenly you notice other things

Until you're convinced you shouldn't really smile so wide or talk so much, but all it takes is Makarov and his rare tenderness to make you forget about it and feeling good again

He sees no blemishes on you, and you allow yourself to tell you whatever he wants as he drags you away from the mirror and pulling you into bed with him, spooning you, whispering into your ear how you're better than all those insufferable leeches anyways

And for the next time you're getting ready, you receive a questionable amount of compliments from the help Makarov keeps around the house, did he tell them to do that?

Keegan

Keegan wouldn't have known you were being self-conscious around him if it weren't for the fact that you started changing when you were alone, you no longer let him stare at you too long, afraid he'd see something he wouldn't like

You were always trying to turn away or cover yourself if he came into a room when you weren't dressed, yelling at him to get out, except he doesn't care and ignores you anyways as he settles into bed or he holds your hands so you can't cover your face when he leans in closer to get a look at your face

"Hey, don't hide from me" as he turns you to face him, his eyes impossible to part from as he stares deeply into yours, trying to find that fear so deeply rooted in you and pull it out, no one should reach this low, and he'd be a damn fool to let it get to you

He wouldn't want to lose you to this disquietude

König

He very much understands and notices when you're feeling self-conscious, he often feels it too, awkward and unsure of himself when around others, with you though, he forgets about that feeling entirely

Obviously, he's going to do something when you're starting to feel like that, first thing is searching for a place where there is less people, the air gets heavy rather quickly when there are too many people which only makes things worse especially if there's a crowd of people

Doesn't really say much as you both settle into a bench, he's not even sure you noticed that he did it intentionally, he kind of fiddles with his hands nervously but he sits there for a moment, watching the scenery with you, until you lean into him

He's surprised but welcomes it, bringing an arm around your shoulder, "König?" and he responds with a hum, "Do you think... other people think I'm weird?"

Seriously? That's what you were worried about? As if his entire being hasn't always been clumsy and sheepish when around others, yet he still somehow managed to bag you, he snorts, if you're weird he can't imagine what word would be used to describe him

Horangi

He might not fully understand the anxiety that comes with feeling like everyone is constantly watching and judging everything you do or how you look, if anything he quite enjoys the feeling of having eyes on him, especially yours

But he notices how whenever he stares at you a little too long to the point you notice, your reaction gradually shifts from giving a timid and bashful smile to full on embarrassed, he doesn't understand, you're deserving of attention, so why don't you enjoy it?

You do end up explaining how much it bothers you, but there's a long list of things you're always taking notice of, isn't it weird how you walk? Don't you tend to look around too much at people? Is it only you who has an awkward interaction with someone every single time you go out? It's only you, right?

Again, he had never taken notice of these things, seeing as he's learned to take pride in how he carries himself and how he does things, he tells you people don't actually care, no one pays attention long enough to notice

Which is unfortunate really, why doesn't anyone else ever notice that spark in your eye, or that distinctive mark on you? Such a pity no one will ever get to look at you like how he does, maybe he's lucky because he has you all to himself

Nikto

He doesn't even notice what you're constantly worrying about, you've overlooked every scar of his, so why would you ever feel the need to worry about how others perceive you? Especially when it comes to him? It's not unusual of him anyways, you have to point things out for this guy to even take notice of

He sees you staring into the mirror and thinks nothing of it, sees you pull your shirt down every time you sit and again dismisses it, sees you looking uncomfortable when pictures are being taken, fine with him he hates them too

Until you're up at night thinking and he's in bed next to you ready to rest until your voice comes out shaky, frail as if on the verge of tears asking if he really even likes you

Needless to say, he's confused, tired and only grunts in response as he pulls you, snaking an arm around your waist and trapping you in his arms, when you try to move he just shushes you and tells you to sleep

You go to sleep not knowing he's still awake, staring gently at you as he caresses your hair

[jillsandwhichs]

Forced to love you

Chapter 11 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You've been forced into an arranged marriage with Mr. Miller, a rich businessman, also known for being a bit cold and straight forward. Neither of you wanted this but you suppose you two will make it work somehow

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 4.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut - Making out, Dirty talk, Oral (Both receive), Overstimulation, Spanking, Protected P in V, Doggy style, Hair pulling, Choking, Clit rubbing, You both finish, Slight aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Placing your purse down on the marble counter, you took in the large cliff side mansion you're inside of right now. The large window panels all along the kitchen wall display the beautiful bodies of water and all of the colorful homes surrounding it. Greece is really such a beautiful place - you just wish you weren't here on these terms. The terms of a honeymoon you didn't even want.

Oh but father & mother dearest know best, right? At least they think they do. Having you merge with another wealthy family is just their way of further building their empire. Of course, you have received the short end of the stick, again, being forced to marry Joel Miller - a wealthy business man with a broody attitude about him.

Speaking of, you turned around to see him carrying in your suitcases. He set them down and looked up at you. You looked away, gazing back out at the water, admiring how it glistened and called out to you. "Your father called me while I was outside, he wants to know how you're doing, so I suggest you call him soon." "Will do." "We are also to have dinner tonight, your father made us reservations in town, so dress up and look pretty."

You scoffed and looked down at what you're already wearing. It's a peachy pink flowy dress that goes down to just above your ankles. It pair with it, you're wearing sandals that your mother gifted you for your birthday a few months back. "Do I not look pretty right now." You couldn't care less if he finds you attractive or not, but seriously? This outfit is it. "You do. My apologies. Wear that then." Joel stated.

Admittedly, you blushed a little bit.

You didn't want to marry Joel, hell, you want to divorce him this instant, but he isn't the worst man. Earlier today, before the ceremony, Joel had told you he'd respect you and be there for you, which came as a surprise. Everyone told you he was an asshole who was all about work & money. Maybe he is, but he's been decent to you so far. It better remain that way.

"What time are the reservations?" "For six until seven. It's as a restaurant in the city, it's beautiful so don't worry, it'll be to your taste." "Do you think I'm some spoiled brat or something?" "Yeah." The audacity! You rolled your eyes and he smirked. "Don't roll your eyes at me." "Or what?" "You'll find out if you do it again." "Whatever." You turned back to face the windows. "I'm going to unpack my things, I advise you do the same soon." Joel said before walking off into the bedroom of the mansion - the singular one there is.

-

It's late now. Nearly 7:30 at night. You two had dinner and it was nice. Your father had made the reservations in hopes of you and Joel getting to know one another better - and you did. He does seemingly care about his work and his money but it surely isn't his life. Still, you're keeping him at bay. You're sure the two of you will be cheating on each other and despising one another in no time!

Joel is currently in the shower, you're in the room just outside of it. The bedroom is nice, it came with complimentary essentials and honestly anything you'd need for a week in Greece. You're originally from the U.S, Joel too, but your mother had you pick between either going to Spain or Greece and of course, Greece it was. That was literally the only thing you had say in when it came to your wedding, sadly.

Looking through the nighttime attire your mother packed for you to wear, you soon came to realize a theme. Literally everything is revealing. You scoffed and groaned loudly, all of the city could probably hear it. The most modest piece of attire that was packed is a short lenghted silky nightgown. The base color is pink with a lacy white trim. It's cute, but your mother obviously wants you and Joel to connect in more ways than one.

You have to work with what you have though.

You took off the clothes you were currently wearing and threw them into the basket on the other side of the room. Of course, you kept your panties on but removed your bralette - you shouldn't wear those to bed. The nightgown is comfortable. Soft & cozy. Glancing in the mirror, you smiled. You feel pretty. The sound of the shower turning off was heard and you sighed softly. Guess that's all the alone time you'll be getting.

Joel isn't a bad guy. You two just... Aren't made for one another. This is truly depressing.

Climbing into bed, you tucked yourself beneath the covers and grabbed the remote off of the bedside table. You told your father that if anything, you'll need a suite with a TV - it'll take your mind off of things. You doom scrolled through different channels until you settled on one with a cooking show. Not the best option, but it is distracting enough. As your eyes were casted upon the television, Joel walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

You were quick to look away. Admittedly, you felt wrong when looking. However, your brain is totally working against you. There's no denying he's an attractive man, because he is. You even said that to him. Attraction isn't the point though. He grabbed a pair of pajamas and began to change but in a way so you couldn't see, thank the Lord. At least he has decency!

When he was done, Joel ambled back into the room and over to the bed, where you were lying down. "Want me to take a different room? I'm sure the couch is comfortable enough." He said softly, just trying to get this ordeal done and over with. That's harsh. You won't do that to him. "No Joel, that's alright. If we're to be married for life, we better get used to this lifestyle." You snorted with sarcasm, scooching over on the bed to provide him with some room.

He nodded and sat down, running his hand through his damp hair. You couldn't help yourself - you gazed at him. Wow, he cleans up nicely. Too bad this marriage was an arranged one. You sighed deeply and he noticed. "You good?" "I'm fine. Just tired." You said softly, nestling your head against the pillows. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too." He laid back and shut his lamp off, but you left yours on.

"Going to bed already?" "Trying to." He said in a deep voice, "Mind turning that TV off?" Ugh. "Not at all." You shut it off and laid back just as he did. Well, this is awkward. You're laying in bed with a man you met today, married and had dinner with. What a fucking shit show. You rolled over to face him and his eyes were already on you. Behind the bed frame is a large window, the moonlight casted down onto you two, specifically you & your face. It's pleasant, honestly.

Joel sighed deeply before clearing his throat. "You know, for what it is worth," he looked into your eyes, "I don't think you're half bad." He chuckled and looked down. You giggled and nodded. "Everyone said you were an asshole, I'll admit, I was nervous to meet you." "Eh, I definitely am an ass but to my now wife, I won't be. I can't be." He mumbled and looked back up at you, his eyes stark & piercing, making you feel a certain type of way.

That made you smile. This man isn't so bad after all. You know he'll make a good friend. Hopefully you two can sort out being with other people later, it'll be for the best. You sighed softly and viewed into his eyes once again, this time they were more gentle and kind. How sweet. "Is everything okay?" You whispered, biting your lower lip. "Of course." He nodded. "By the way," Joel smirked and looked you up and down, "that nightgown suits you well." He murmured.

That made you blush, truly. How kind of him to say. You thought the same thing. "Doesn't it? I like it a lot... Yeah, unfortunately, mother dearest only packed me... Sexual attire... So..." You snorted. "Well, that ain't so bad..." Joel said in his normal voice. "What do you mean?" "Uh," he chuckled and broke eye contact, "Nothing sweetheart, ignore me."

Sweetheart? He's calling you names now? It made your stomach heat up. You slowly nudged closer to him without even realizing it. "Sweetheart? Admittedly, I like that." You giggled and you were now closer to him, so close you could feel the warmth emitting from his jacked build. "Hah," Joel laughed, "Figured you would." His laugh is... Adorable. That laugh coming from a big burly man is the cutest thing.

Maybe you could learn to... You don't know, care for this man in more ways than one?

Joel gandered back up at you, his gaze back to that starkish glaring one but this time, there was something more in those brown eyes of his. Something of adrenaline and/or ecstasy. It made you get slightly shy, really. "Joel?-" you were instantly cut off by his lips pressing to yours in a manner you didn't expect. You moaned immediately and encased your arms around his neck, Joel quickly rushing to get on top of you.

His hands pinned yours above your head and his lips rapidly moved with yours. This escalated so fast. You can't even think straight. "Wait, wait," you kissed him back and smiled, his hands holding your wrists firmly. "Hmm?" He muttered out, beginning to kiss your neck side crazily, his lips all over, leaving marks and presses. "This is totally shocking, are we gonna?-" "Am I going to fuck you? Only if you want me to."

God damnit, why did him saying that turn you on? You're a virgin. The most you've done is suck a guy off and it was terribly embarrassing. "So, do you want me to?" Joel added, stopping his kisses and awaiting an answer. Do you? This man is your husband, yes, but only as of today. You feel nervous. "I..." "Yes or no? I won't be upset." He whispered softly, his lips so soft against your neck.

"Yes."

It came out so smoothly & simply, as if this was meant to happen. "That'a girl." Joel smirked against your neck before kissing your lips again and slipping his tongue into your mouth, allowing it to intertwine with yours. It felt good. He makes you feel good. Unfortunately, this is a battle of Lust vs Love and lust is heavily taking over. Either way though, you're too deep now to back out and really, you don't even want to. You want him to take your purity - he is your life long partner now.

As the two of you kissed, it was a heated one. You haven't kissed someone in such a long time, you forgot how exciting it is. His hand trailed down to his shirt before he took it off, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. You took your chance to feel up on him, touching his chest and his lower abdomen area. You felt his V line and it is so prominent - that really turns you on. Joel is sexy. Maybe him railing you won't be so bad...

He smiled as you felt him. You touched all over his torso area. He's built and he's built well. "Can you do something for me?" He whispered into your small ear before kissing it gently. "Mhm." You whimpered out. "Have you ever given a man a blowjob before." He pulled away and smirked. Oh, you know where this is going. "A long time ago, yes." "Hmm," Joel smiled and kissed your forehead. "Wanna do that for me?" He asked you, so kindly. "I do." You nodded. You do.

Joel nodded and adjusted his seating position. Now he was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. Perfect positioning for you to make him all sorts of dumb. You smiled and pulled your hair back, ensuring it won't get in the way. He is wearing a light pair of sweatpants, some that'll come off rather easily. The imprinting of his hard cock is noticeable. You're practically drooling at this point.

You pulled him out of his pants, a slight bit of pre cum lies right on his tip. So hot. So sexy. You bit your lower lip before wettenening them, overall just preparing yourself. "You'll do so good baby." Baby... Oh fuck, that's so hot. You smiled and leaned down before quickly wrapping your lips around the head of his dick, just testing the waters. Joel was haste to seeth and let out a faint grunt. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be good." He murmured to himself.

Then and there, you started to suck his cock. He's hard, rock hard. The first guy you ever blew wasn't like this. In a way, you're glad Joel is this turned on, it shows that maybe this isn't just a lustful thing for him. But what do you know? It probably is. I mean, you two will eventually have sex, especially if he doesn't agree to the affair orders. Enough of that though, you just wanna focus on pleasuring him right now.

You swirled your tongue all along his cock, from the base to the tip, all over. Joel simply watched you in awe. There's no denying your beauty and watching you of all people give him a blowjob, he's under your spell. You used your hand to jerk the spots you weren't focusing on as you licked his tip. His pre cum was slightly thick and it had a sweet taste to it. God, you want to swallow his semen terribly.

You closed your eyes as you moved your head faster, suckling his cock as quickly and perfectly as you could. "Fuck, that feels so good." Joel moaned and his hand now rested on the back of your head. "Good girl, fuck." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. You're like a witch, winding him under your seduction. He pushed your head down slightly, forcing you to take his dick deeper into your mouth.

After a little while longer, he twitched in your mouth and that's how you knew he was just about to finish. You took the opportunity to shove your head all the way down, his tip hitting your throat and your eyes as watery as ever - and it worked. "Christ, oh fuck." Joel gasped out as he came deep into your throat, his sweet cum seeping into your mouth until you swallowed it all. Joel snickered and gazed at you in surprise.

"Holy fuck, you got a mouth on you." You giggled at his words. "So I've been told." You smiled. "Yeah? Come here." He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap. You laughed and kissed him, your lips locking with his. He breathed in deeply as you kissed him. Your kisses are full of ecstasy and need. "I want you to ride my face." He stated in between kisses. God. That's just what you need.

Once again, he fixed his seating position and this time, laid all the way back until his head was on the pillow. "I've never done this before." "You don't got anything to worry about, I'll be doing all the work. You just sit on my face and relax." The way he talks is so attractive, really. You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay then." You took off your panties and threw them on the ground beside his shirt from earlier. "Now c'mere."

Listening, you climbed over his body and over to his face. His hands held onto your thighs and he pulled you down. You felt the slight prickle from his beard on your area and you sighed deeply. You know Joel will take good care of you. "Just take it baby." Was all he said before he then began to feast upon you. This isn't how you expected it to feel. It feels amazing. Joel really knows what he's doing. "Oh Jesus Christ." Your head was already tossed back.

His tounge was clearly all over your pussy, your so very wet pussy. You moaned loudly and held onto the headboard. It definitely feels a bit awkward & unhinged but fuck, Joel is just going at it, how can you not just allow it? "That feels so fucking amazing." You laughed and looked down. His eyes were closed. He's in the moment. All he wants to do is please you and to taste you and God, you taste heavenly.

Gripping the bedframe, you began to slowly grind your cunt against his face. You can't help yourself, it feels too good. "Oh Joel." You moaned softly, your body shaking faintly. His hands held onto your thighs, he was literally gripping them with force. His tongue protruded at your hole, sticking it in and out of it quickly before going back to suckling on your pulsing clit. You're so wet. You're so fucking horny.

This is not how you expected tonight to go.

"I feel like..." God, you haven't felt this in a good bit. It's only when you're touching yourself that you do. "Cum for me sweetheart." He detached from your pussy only for a moment and just to say that. "Oh fuck!" Your body shook and your eyes squeezed shut as you came. Joel didn't stop. He sucked and licked all over as you came. It was so overstimulating. "Oh, fuck, stop, stop!" You yelled out and he was detached just like that.

You got off of his face and giggled loudly, looking at him as you caught your breath. "That was great." You snickered and layed back. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He smiled and leaned over, kissing your cheek, then your pretty pink lips. "I still want you." You swathed your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He smiled into the kiss and nodded. "Here." He pulled away from the kiss and flipped you over, landing you on your stomach and pulling your ass up.

Doggy style, hmm, okay.

You giggled and rubbed your rear along his manhood, causing him to get hard all over again. "Dirty girl." He murmured before spanking you, causing you to moan loudly. You didn't expect that. You guess this man is kinky. "Are you a virgin?" He whispered into your ear before kissing behind it. "I am." "Okay baby, I'll be gentle." He said in a soft tone before pulling back behind you. He pulled his pants down, then lifted your nightgown up, revealing your bare ass to him.

Joel reached over and grabbed a condom from the drawer. There were some in the bathroom too. Honeymoon suites do not mess around. He slipped it over his hard cock and looked back down at you. "If it hurts at all, just tell me." "Okay." You nodded and smiled, looking straight ahead as you waited for him. Within that minute, he stuck himself inside of you, slowly and passionately. You moaned and felt your insides tighten at the sudden feeling.

"Loosen up baby, it'll feel better." You had to calm yourself down. You're suddenly nervous and a bit on edge. "Want me to stop?" "No, please no." You said softly, holding onto the bedsheets below you. "Just be gentle." "Of course." Joel responded. He began to move but his strokes were subtle and gentle. He doesn't want to hurt you. "You feel so good." He said in a deep voice, pushing himself in and out of you.

It's a whole new sensation. It feels like a delicacy. Goodness, it's great. "It does feel nice." You giggled and nuzzled your head against the bed, just letting loose and allowing Joel to make the most out of this expirence. "You're so beautiful." He whispered before his movements picked up, but barely. He just wants you to be okay. "Just like that." You moaned out and closed your eyes, now just relishing in the feeling of him within you.

A little bit after you entirely adjusted to him, his hips rocked against your ass a bit quicker now. The feeling was exquisite. You've never felt this way before. "So fucking tight, Jesus Christ." Joel grunted as he fucked you, his dick going into you at a pace in which was perfect, it was magnificent. "Joel!" You moaned and attempted to lift your head up and as you tried, he shoved you back down, his hand going to the back of your neck to keep you in place.

Oh, you liked that. It was sudden but very arousing.

As he slammed into you now, his pace not gentle as it was, all you could do was take it. Like this, it is even better, you just needed a minute to adjust. "Maybe this marriage won't be so bad." You giggled out to Joel and he smiled, though you couldn't see it. "That's what I like to hear." He spanked you again and this time, your back arched even more. This is amazing. You really didn't think this would happen but wow, what an outcome it is.

Joel's hand trailed up into your hair and somehow, you knew what he'd do because before you knew it, he was pulling on it. Your head was being pulled back roughly but the pain mixed with the pleasure was perfect. You moaned loudly and held your breath as he fucked you, hard. Him pulling on your hair, fucking you and talking to you all at once was too much.

"I'm gonna cum again." You moaned out, closing your eyes. "Cum for me sweetheart." He whispered before reaching over and holding onto not only your hair, but now your neck. He lifted you up until your back was against his front. His hand was now around your neck and his other around your stomach, holding you close. This is it. You moaned softly as you felt his plunge into you a few more times until he ultimately came first, which then caused your undoing.

As you came, he caressed your clit with haste and your body shook, even more than it did with your first orgasm. "God, you take it so well." Joel grunted as he kissed behind your ear whilst rubbing your nub and pushing himself into you. There were so many feelings all at once, it was amazing. You giggled and bit your lip, closing your eyes and simply intaking the enjoyable & pleasurable moment.

Coming down from your high and snapping back into reality, Joel pulled out of you with a chuckle and you two laid down on the bed together. He took off the condom and set it on the table; He can throw it away later. "So..." You began with a faint giggle and Joel bellowed. "You were amazing." He leaned over and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay? Did I break ya?" He joked. You nodded. "Yes to both." He laughed at your sentence.

"I feel so..." "Hmm?" "Good." You giggled and spun over to face him. "Let's do it again!" You climbed on top of him and he laughed out, holding your hips. "Let's do it then."

[steddieas-shegoes]

just like riding a bike

for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'ride'

and a happy birthday to @braincell-pingpong who deserves much more than a microfic, but just know that you are so loved and i hope this very cute and sweet little look into their lives is a nice little treat!

rated g | 453 words | no cw | tags: childhood friends, steve has bad parents, future, time jump, fluff

🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲🚲

The cuts on his knee are proof that he shouldn't be doing this without an adult helping, but he can't wait for his parents to get home from Italy and his nanny won't be back until dinner. He's the last kid in his class to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels. He's learning now.

He falls again, but at least this time it's in the grass.

"You should try a running start," a voice says behind him.

He turns to see Eddie Munson, the new kid who everyone says had lice and his dad went to prison for stealing a car. He doesn't know what the truth is, but he knows Eddie's kinda weird. He doesn't really talk to anyone. He definitely doesn't belong in this neighborhood.

He lives with his uncle in the trailer park down the road.

The bike he's got next to him right now is rusty, nothing like the shiny Schwinn Sting-Ray that Steve's parents got him as an apology gift for missing his eighth birthday. It's too big for him, but they wouldn't have known that. They aren't home enough to know that he's one of the shortest kids in his class.

"Won't I trip trying to get on?" Steve asks.

"Not if you do it like this," Eddie drops his bike to the ground and walking closer to take the handlebars of Steve's. Steve lets go and watches Eddie seamlessly jog next to the bike for about ten feet before he hops onto the bike and pedals down the road. He turns around and races back, smiling as he jumps off and gives Steve the handlebars. "You try."

Steve struggles. It takes him at least twenty tries, but Eddie stays around and gives him tips, encouraging him when he falls.

When he gets it, Eddie's cheering, jumping up and down on the sidewalk.

*

"If you get a running start, it'll be easier," Eddie is knelt next to their daughter, one hand on a handlebar with pink streamers coming out the side.

Steve watches from the park bench, glancing between them and their younger son playing in the sandbox with another kid he's never seen before. The life they've built took a lot of work, and the ride hasn't always been smooth, but they've made a future both of them want.

"But what if I fall?"

"I'll be right here to catch you."

"But it might hurt."

Steve thinks about scraped up knees and bruises on his elbows.

"Your dad taught me when I was your age. You should give it a try," Steve encourages.

She does, and she falls a few times. But she does it. Eddie cheers and jumps up and down.

[youbitchuh]

Ridin Hamzah’s In Hawaii

fluff fluff and fluff :)

There is swear words tho!

(obviously theres gonna be smut in future stories i mean the title)

Hamzah x Reader (no mentions of y/n)

9:34am

The sound of Mandy constantly turning and sighing next to me was getting exaggerating, I know that this is just her way of asking me to get up without actually asking. I turn and face her and stay silent, she gives me a grin

“Hamzah was talking about you to Martin last night…i heard him” she says as her voice gets higher pitched with her last couple of words.

“Was he now…cool” I pretend to be cool by shrugging it off, “no big deal” I say as I sit up next to her. Pretending to not be absolutely in love with your best-friends boyfriend’s best-friend is so so hard and so draining..especially when you spend basically every minute together.

——————————————————————10:46am

I pop my lips and fix up my hair before exiting the bathroom. “how is my outfit?” I ask Mandy as she spins around on her heels to face me. I watch as her face lights up.

“Girl you look so cute” She exclaims as she walks closer to me, “and what about mwah” she says placing her hands on her chest to show off her outfit.

“You’re so gorgeous Mandy” I say with a pout.

*knock knock*

“Ill get it” Mandy says as she walks past me darting for our hotel door, “Oh hi Hamzah” She says almost upset that it wasn’t her boyfriend. My eyes dart up at the name “Are you two almost ready?” He says in a low tone, Mandy looks back at me sitting on the bed and nods. I grab the rest of my shit and start making my way to the door. I take in Hamzahs features, his curls, his smile, his nose. I smile at him awkwardly and stand with him. I clear my throat as I try to ignore the fact that I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face.

———————————————————————1:57pm

I take a sip of my cocktail as I look over the bars balcony view of the beach, Mandy and Martin fucked off to God knows where and who the hell knows where Hamzah is. My trance is suddenly disrupted as a figure sits next to me. Its Hamzah.

“Hey” he says in a cheery tone watching me immediately straighten my posture.

“Oh hi..” I say trying to act unbothered, in reality im really nervous i mean ive known this guy for over a year and we have barley exchanged words with eachother but i still feel like i know everything about him. I face him and give him a soft smile.

“Where were you?” I ask curious of his were-abouts.

“Why did you miss me?” Hamzah jokes with a slight teasing tone, “Nah im kidding i was just walking along the beach it is very beautiful” he says as he grabs his hat and places it on his head. Who does that? He looks so beautiful like that.

“Ohh nice nice, I mean I haven’t really left the bar because I’ve just been alone” I look at him as he lets out a stiff laugh at my comment.

“I might go down to the beach again though.. you should come with me” Hamzah suggests as he puts his pointer finger on my shoulder acting like he just changed the way the world moved.

————————————————————————

2:30pm

“Oh my God” I say loudly with a loud laugh as I trip on the sand for the fifth time. I fix myself up and continue to laugh as Hamzah cant seem to stop. I hit his shoulder “Its not that funny…stop” I say in between laughs. We take a deep breath and continue walking in silence just taking in the view, over time we got closer together his arm brushing against mine and our shoulders kept bumping into eachother. I feel him look down at me as he grabs my hand and puts it in his. A flush of red rises on my cheeks as I look up at him and give me a smile. “You know I was talking about you to Martin last night?” He says almost like a suggestion, he purses his lips as he waits for my response.

There was now a sudden thick tension in the air. I don’t know what it was but there was something there. I mean there always is for me anyway but now I feel like that barrier of not being able to be on him is gone.

“Yeah I do know actually” I laugh, hes pulling me away to go sit at some chairs that overlook the beach. “Mandy told me this morning” I say as we sit down. My heart is racing I mean this is the first time I have ever been alone with him.

“I told him how I think you are beautiful” I look at him and smile at his words. He gives me a smile as I watch him take in my features. “I also told him how I think you’re really cool… and funny… I was gonna say smart but that would’ve been a lie no offence” I look at him and place my hand on my chest and scoff.

“Wow im offended” I say as I roll my eyes but laugh at his comment. I look back up at him “I think you are beautiful too”.

————————————————————————

10:06pm

We are all sitting on the beach having a bonfire, Mandy and Martin keep telling some story on what happened while they went off for the day, I didn’t care I was so focused on how beautiful Hamzah looked with the fire glowing onto his face.. he looks so different in this light and im not complaining.

“Hes so beautiful” Mandy snaps her head towards me “Who is?? huh??” I look back at her “What do you mean?” She leans closer to me “you didnt say that in your head..” I widen my eyes and look at Hamzah whos running his hands through his curls, his face is flushed almost like he was happy I said it.

Me and Hamzah didn’t speak to eachother since we went for a walk together, it would’ve been awkward if we did. My feelings towards him are becoming so much more noticeable and I hate it.

————————————————————————

12:26am

Ive been sitting in the hotel room for over an hour now, I excused myself because me calling Hamzah beautiful out loud made me feel sick,but why? I said it to his face, was it the fact that I’ve now let myself feel vulnerable because I said it infront of my friends?

*knock knock knock*

Im suddenly disrupted out of my thoughts

“Hold on im coming” I say as I straighten my outfit and walk towards to door. Its Hamzah, I clear my throat as I look up at him.

“Uh hey..can we talk?” He motions towards me and lets himself inside. I shut the door behind him and follow him over to the bed.

“Look I don’t know why I said that out loud, I feel so stupid and I looked vulnerable I never meant to say it, I felt like I embarrassed you more than I did myself and I just wanted to say Im sor-”.

My word were cut off by Hamzahs soft lips attaching themselves onto mine.

“Dont”

“Worry”

“About”

“It”

He says inbetween kisses, his hand makes his way to my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear not breaking the kiss. This was so passionate every single second of it felt like heaven, my hands started wondering over his body landing on his chest, hot and flushed. The feeling of his chest rising and falling between every kiss was magical. My face becoming more flushed as our tongues danced together. I start pushing on his chest as a sign to stop. I look at him taking in deep breaths. No words exchanged. Just living in the moment.

————————————————————————

2:45am

Deep breaths and slight snores fill the room. My hand lays on Hamzahs chest as he sleeps away, my eyes suddenly dart over towards the door as Mandy makes her way through it…loudly and clearly drunk. She spots me and Hamzah cuddling on the only bed in the room.

“Awww so cute” she slurs as she points to the two of us. I put my finger up to my lips at an attempt to silence her as she walks closer to the side im lying on. “Im just gonna go sleep in Martins room..” She whispers in my ear. I nod her off and watch as she walks away, “Use protection Mandy!” I whisper shout as she gets closer to the door, she turns around “you too!” I chuckle to myself.

Well this is gonna be awkward when he wakes up..

————————————————————————

Tags:

[zepskies]

Omg first of all, thanks so much for shouting out As Tradition Dictates, my lovely!! I have more Eomer coming in the near future. 😘

But first *rubs hands together* time to dig into this delectable love triangle...

Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵

No man his age should look that good. 

Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️‍🔥)

The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.

Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵

Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol

“He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment.

...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.

You’d tried the usual things… Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation. Gone completely mute when he asked you a question. Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room. Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-” Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”  What have I gotten myself into?

Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[littelovelunette]

hiii i’ve never requested anything b4 so idk but i wondering if u could do one where sevika mentions love the light freckles and beauty marks (i have both🤪) on readers face and reader being shocked that someone would notice such small details about her since no one had ever made her feel seen and cared for before (idk if this makes sense but🤷🏻‍♀️)

Little Bits

You and Sevika had only started dating and every single date would be a test of your makeup skills because you would take atleast an hour to settle the concealer on your face, hiding your freckles and beauty marks.

It wasn't that you were insecure but you just wanted to look like everyone else who didn't have freckles or beauty marks. Just to fit the beauty standards.

With a sigh, you reached forward and uncapped the tube of concealer and began your makeup. Where would Sevika take you today? You both were relatively shy about the entire relationship and you knew Sevika wasnt one for grand gestures but that's fine.

You put on some lip tint to end your makeup and brushed your hair, doing a loose braid. Your phone chimed and you instinctively smiled at the screen seeing Sevika's text. "Where are you?" You walked to the balcony that was curtained and peeked a little and there she was.

Sevika stood by the pavement in front of your apartment, eyes on her phone's screen and mechanical hand holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

"Come inside." You texted her back and saw Sevika walk into the apartment unit. You opened the door before she could knock, greeting her with a smile.

"Flowers for m'lady." Sevika said giving you the bouquet, you laughed. "Where'd you learn that from?"

"Nowhere." She grumbled you had the gist she learned it from Jinx who was the matchmaker afterall. You stepped aside to let Sevika come inside the apartment, "It seems like it's gonna rain." Sevika said as she took a look out the window and up at the grey clouds.

You put the flowers in a vase, taking in a small whiff, smiling.

"Mhm. You agreed and quickly put away the concealer tube you were holding, "I just have to put something back in my room, I'll be right back." You said hurriedly and made for an awkward half-run half-walk to your room.

You stuffed the tube hastily into your makeup purse and walked back to Sevika.

"You have a nice apartment." Sevika looked around, eyes fixing in the decorations of the spacious apartment. It was minimalistic and you liked it that way.

"Thanks." You blushed a little but tried your best recompose yourself.

"You live alone?" Sevika asked, finally turning to meet your gaze.

"Yeah, why?" You inquired

"It's just— it's not the safest to be living alone in a place like Zaun, I mean it is but that's only if you're good with self defense." Sevika rubbed the back of her neck.

"Are you saying I don't know how to defend myself?" You smiled, a little teasing tone picking up with your words.

"Do you?"

"You bet your sweet ass I do."

You heard the dripping outside, you knew it was raining. The soft scent of rain filled the air making you rush to be window like an excited kid. "It's raining! It's raining!"

Sevika chuckled coming up behind you and holding your waist. "You like the rain?"

"A lot! Let's go out!" You made for a run but were held back by Sevika.

"You'll catch a cold." Sevika grumbled under her breath but watching you stare up at her with those pitiful puppy eyes really had an effect on her. "I guess a few minutes in the rain will be fine."

As you stepped on the rain, Sevika followed you there. You smiled up, letting the rain droplets soak your face, dancing around happily and splattering water everywhere.

Sevika laughed at the side, a full and hearty sound, something you were glad to be the one to hear. Sevika held you by the waist to ensure you didn't slip and fall. Everything felt perfect, until...

Your hair came up instinctively to rub your face because the water was getting into your eyes, once you withdrew your hand there was your concealer on your hand. It was smudging off due to the water...

Panic stroke your brain and you tried to gesture Sevika to go back inside but she didn't let you. "We just got here, what's the deal?"

Once Sevika's grey eyes locked onto your face she smiled, "You have freckles." She raised a hand and cupped your face with her flesh hand, stroking the side lovingly. "And they're so pretty."

Your heart almost stopped beating. "They're p-pretty?" You stuttered making Sevika chuckle, eyes softening as she gave you a nod of affirmation.

"Very," Sevika pushed your hair out of your face, "So are your beauty marks."

"No one's ever said that to me," you said looking down as water droplets fell out of your hair and lashes. You looked so beautiful right then if Sevika could take a picture of you, she'd keep that in her wallet.

"Others don't matter, you and I do," Sevika said before slowly tilting your head up for a soft, tender kiss. A kiss in the rain for you.

[gold-onthe-inside]

career day, pt 2

who? single dad!spencer reid x history prof!reader summary: in continuation of career day, pt 1; spencer asks you out for coffee after a conversation in the playground, meets your adorable nephew, and has a much needed heart to heart with maya. content warnings: mention of childbirth complications, r is averse to childbirth, reference to spencer's knee injury word count: 3.3k a/n: again, maya's 12, please forgive her.

They’re all guided to the teacher’s lounge, encouraged to have snacks and coffee while they wait for the school day to end, but Spencer’s not really in the mood for small talk, silently grabbing a cup of coffee while you’re peppered with questions, particularly from parents who want their kids to get into a prestigious college and see you as their way in. Never mind that I went to Caltech and MIT, he thinks sourly, slipping out of the lounge with his coffee.

Spencer takes a moment to himself, leaning against the wall in the hallway just outside the teacher's lounge. He takes a sip of his coffee, trying to drown out the sound of the voices coming from within. The parents' questions echo around in his head, and he can feel himself getting more annoyed with each one. Maybe it's the nerves from his presentation or the fact that you're getting all the attention instead of him, but he finds himself feeling resentful.

Rather than do or say something he can't take back, he just leaves the building. He takes a deep breath as he steps outside, the fresh air helping to clear his head a bit. He walks over towards the empty playground, the swings and slides deserted at this time in the middle of the school day. He sits down on one of the swings, staring off into space, still holding onto his now-cold cup of coffee.

“6th graders can be rough,” he heard you say, your boots crunching over the fall leaves as you joined him, leaning against the poles holding up the swing.

Spencer looks up as you approached, a slight smile on his face. "Yeah, they don't hold back, do they?" he says, taking a sip of his coffee. He glances at you as you lean against the swing set. "You seem to be the more popular one today," he teases, unable to hide the hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah, I've been told I ooze cool aunt energy," you said, chuckling a little.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Must be nice." He takes another sip of his coffee. "I guess I'm just the uncool dad with social anxiety."

"There are more important things than being cool," you said, your voice earnest and he glanced up at you, one of your shoulders shrugging. "Like being a parent who shows up. Who actually takes an interest."

He felt his annoyance melt away a bit as you said that. "I guess being uncool has its perks then," he said with a small smile.

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling my nephew," you said, huffing a little.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, but then something clicked in his head. "Wait, you have a nephew?" he asked, a surprised look on his face. The boy whose shoelaces you’d been tying that morning…

"Yeah, I came for my nephew," you answered, your brow furrowing, placing your hand on your heart unconsciously. "My bad, I should have clarified."

"Well, now I feel like an idiot," Spencer said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just assumed you were here for your kid or something."

"Pretty safe assumption to make," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Though, I expect better from a fancy behavioural analyst."

"I'll try to live up to your expectations next time," Spencer responded sarcastically. But then he turned to you, a question at the tip of his tongue. "You don't have any kids of your own, then?"

"No," you said, shaking your hand, pocketing your hands.

"Any reason why?" Spencer asked curiously. He took another sip of his coffee, studying you intently.

"Um... I guess, I haven't found the right person yet," you said hesitantly. "That and the whole delivery process freaks me out."

Spencer raised an eyebrow at your reply, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Scared of childbirth, huh?" he said, teasing you a bit.

"You know how many women die from childbirth complications every year?" you asked him, raising a brow.

"Actually, the maternal mortality rate in the United States is steadily declining," Spencer replied, not missing a beat. "It's currently around 26 per every 100,000 live births."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You just... had that lined up in your head?"

Spencer chuckled. "No... well, yes... kind of," he said, shrugging casually as if the information weren't already stored in his mind. "I have an eidetic memory, so this kind of statistical information tends to stick."

"Huh," you said, pursing your lips, slightly impressed. "How many live births a year?" you asked him, just to test him really.

Spencer doesn't even hesitate before answering. "It’s currently around 3.7 million per year," he says without any hesitation, taking another sip of his coffee.

"That sounds like way too many," you muttered with a frown.

"On the contrary," Spencer replied, trying to cross one leg over the other on the swing and failing, "it's actually quite reasonable given the population size. In fact, the annual live birth rate has actually dipped a bit in recent years, which could indicate a potential decline in the population growth rate." He took another sip of his coffee, clearly enjoying the chance to talk about statistics.

You looked at him, raising a brow. "Huh."

Spencer couldn't help but notice the slight look of awe on your face. "You sound impressed," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he sipped his coffee.

"Don't be smug, it's not an attractive look on you," you said, shaking your head as you smiled, looking away.

"I wouldn’t be so sure," he remarked, smirking where he sat, hiding it with his cup of coffee, and pointing at you as he said, “You kind of have a tell.”

“What? No, I don’t,” you retorted but he shrugged, pursing his lips.

“Hate to break it to you, but that little thing you do when you look away… That’s a tell.”

You huffed, unable to deny it as you shook your head. “You always profile everyone you meet?”

“Not everyone,” he said, sipping his coffee, his hazel eyes never leaving yours.

“So, I’m special, am I?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Would that be so bad?” he countered, watching you shake your head.

“No,” you said quietly, your own gaze latched onto his, the two of you standing alone in the empty playground until the bell rings, signalling that the school day was over. Spencer got up with much effort, trying to ignore your snicker. “You okay, old man?”

“In my defense, I’ve had reconstructive knee surgery, okay?” he retorted, walking with you to the pick-up zone as kids came rushing out of the building.

“Seriously?” you asked, chuckling, walking backwards as you both talked because you were just that cool.

“Seriously.”

“What’d you do, fall off a ladder at the library?” you asked, still teasing.

“No, I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. What was the protocol for telling someone you might potentially ask out that he’d gotten shot on the job? “Just had a bad day at work,” he said lamely, watching your brow furrow.

“Okay,” you said, leaving it at that as your attention drifted to the boy running towards you, the same one with his arm in the cast from this morning. “Hey, slugger,” you greeted him happily, squatting to his level. “How’s the arm?”

“Itchy,” he replied miserably. “Ryan stuck a pencil down there and now I can’t get it out.”

You tsked, pushing his glasses up his nose and smoothing back his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. We’ll get it out, okay? And we’ll get donuts on the way back, alright? Chocolate with sprinkles, just how you like ‘em.”

“Classic,” Spencer mused, nodding. “I like your taste.” The boy frowned as he looked up at Spencer.

“You’re Maya’s dad,” he said plainly and Spencer smiled, tucking hair back behind his ear as he squatted.

“That’s me. You can call me Spencer, though.”

“I’m Benjamin,” he said, holding up his left hand to shake Spencer’s hand. “But everyone calls me Benji.”

Spencer squatted in front of Benji, shaking his hand with a rueful smile. “Got it.”

“I really liked your presentation,” Benji said, his glasses slipping down his nose again and he pushed them up with his left hand. “Ian’s mean to everyone. You should just ignore him. That’s what I do.”

“Sounds like a smart move, Benji,” Spencer said, smiling at him warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“We should get going,” you said, before you could think too hard about how sweet and attractive Spencer was talking to Benji like that.

“Yeah, Maya likes taking her time before coming out,” Spencer said apologetically. “But um… I was hoping I could maybe… I mean, if you’d want to… get coffee or something some time?”

“Yeah, coffee sounds great,” you replied warmly, pulling out your phone from your pocket to exchange numbers with him while Benji shuffled off, distracted by a caterpillar. You punched your number into his cellphone, one that seemed like it was a decade old, but you didn’t say anything, swapping phones again. “I’ll see you around, then, Doc,” you said, smiling at him, and he feels like a lovestruck teenager watching you call Benji back and walk with him to your car.

Spencer had gotten Maya her own cellphone much earlier than most other kids, his own paranoia over being away from her for days at a time ranking higher on the list of concerns than cybersecurity. Worry had always been a familiar friend on his shoulder, gnawing at him, but had grown bigger recently as Maya withdrew from him more often than not. Almost always holed up in her room, in a world he had started to feel locked out of.

He knocked on the door to her room, her nameplate hung on the door in the style of California licence plates, before twisting the knob, ducking his head in. “Hey, monkey,” he said softly, finding her lying on her stomach, on her bed, a dolphin body pillow tucked under her arms, barely looking up at Spencer as he walked in.

“Dad, I don’t need you to tuck me in anymore,” she said, sounding exasperated and he frowned.

“Right,” he said unhappily. “You’re all grown up now.” She only looked up when he sat on the edge of her bed — coral pink bedsheets with soft blue pillows. “I know it’s natural for you to… seek independence and autonomy—”

“Dad, don’t go all profiler on me,” Maya griped, sitting up to look at him, brow furrowed, and he wet his lips.

“I’m not trying to,” he said patiently. “I’m just saying… I’m new to this, okay? Up until this year, I’ve always tucked you in at night, or called to talk about your day… And I get it, you’re older now, you’re in middle school, you don’t want to be treated like a baby. Just… I’m asking for a little time to get used to it, okay?” he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle.

She was silent for some time, picking at the fabric of her pillow, refusing to meet his eyes. At one point she’d been all over him, hanging off his arm for dear life whenever he was at home, climbing into his lap the moment he sat on the couch to watch TV with her. It was hard to accept that she had moved past that phase in her life. “You’re always at work anyway,” she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent, but her gaze remained down-cast, voice a little small.

Spencer's face fell at her words. "Is that why you didn't tell me about Career Day?" he asked softly, his heart breaking a little. "You didn't think I would come?"

“It’s not that,” she said, trying to sound indifferent but failing. She fiddled with the fringe of her pillow, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Looking at him was difficult, because she saw how hurt he was — not over being not asked to join career day, but over her lack of trust in him. “I just know you’re really busy, and you’re rarely home.”

"Monkey, come here, please," he asked gently, needing to hug her before he said anything else to her.

She hesitated for a moment, but then, quietly, she set the dolphin plush down and climbed into his lap, like she used to do when she was younger. Spencer hugged her, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you more than anything in the world, monkey," he whispered. "I will always be here for you when you need me."

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her little hands clenching tighter in the fabric of his sweater, feeling him hug her tight against his chest. “Promise?” she asked, voice small.

"Cross my heart, monkey," he said softly. "And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you at school today."

She gave a soft little huff, pulling back far enough to look at him, her gaze still downcast. “Well, you did embarrass me,” she mumbled, still sounding grumpy. “You were such a dork, Dad,” she said with a huff of faux-exasperation, but cuddled against him once more.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, burying his nose in her hair as he hugged her.

She was silent for some time, burying her face in his chest, feeling him hug her tight against him, and she could feel the tension from him, could practically hear the cogs working in his brain as he desperately tried to stay calm; to not get too emotional over one stupid mistake on his part, and she almost felt guilty.

Almost.

“Dad?” she asked, voice a little muffled against his sweater.

"Yeah, monkey?"

She pressed her face against his chest, quiet for some time, her gaze still cast down as her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his sweater. “You’re not… mad at me… right?” she asked, voice a little small, tentative almost.

"Not in the slightest," he replied instantly, looking at Maya and tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I'm not a cool dad, and that's okay."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a slight frown, though it was a fond one. “You’ve never been a cool dad,” she said, as if stating the obvious, though her tone was affectionate.

"I know," he said, sighing sadly as he tucked a curl behind her ear. "But I'm doing my best."

A little frown appeared on her face, a tug between her eyes, at the sad look in his eyes; the little self-deprecating tilt to his tone. She felt awful, almost guilty for making him sound that way. With a slight frown on her face, and a little more emotion than she’d been willing to show before, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face back in the crook of his neck. “I know you are,” she mumbled against his skin.

He wrapped his arms around Maya's waist, taking a deep breath as it relaxed the tightness in his chest. "I just want you to be proud of me, that's all."

She pulled back, looking at him, her gaze a little more open and vulnerable than before, but still a little defiant and stubborn. “I am proud of you,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You’re an FBI agent, a genius and you’re a great dad.”

"Even if I'm the dorkiest dad in the world?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curling up.

She huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes and giving him a slight shove. “Yes, even if you’re the dorkiest dad in the world,” she said with an air of fond exasperation.

He kissed Maya's hair, stroking the back of her head. "I love you, monkey."

She sighed, though the small fond smile never left her face, her arms around his neck, cuddled up close to him. “I love you too, Dad,” she said, finally looking up at him, giving him a small smile.

He kissed her forehead again, just because he could. "Alright, we ready for bed?"

She let out a loud groan, sounding exasperated. “But, I don’t want to go to bed,” she whined, giving him her best puppy dog eyes, as if that might sway him.

"You know we need at least 8 hours of sleep," Spencer chided gently. "And you need even more for that brain of yours to develop."

She let out another groan, though there was no real defiance behind it, more of a petulant teenage attitude. “I know, I know,” she said with a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Eight hours, like a grown-up.”

"That's my girl," he murmured, tucking her in. "You brushed your teeth?" he asked, smiling when she let him tuck her in without a fight. She rolled her eyes again, a little huff escaping her, though it was more fond than anything.

“Dad,” she groaned in faux-exasperation. “I’m not five. I brushed my teeth, okay?”

"For two whole minutes?" he asked, raising a brow.

Another sigh escaped her, exaggerated and put upon. “Yes, Dad, the full two minutes. Even used my timer and everything,” she said, rolling her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"Huh, maybe you are all grown up after all," he remarked, kissing her forehead. "Guess you don't need me to read to you tonight then."

She went very still, giving him a wide-eyed look, clearly shocked and appalled that he would even think that. “No, no, no, wait—” she protested, sitting up straight in bed. “You have to read to me, Dad. That’s not fair—”

Spencer laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Sure?"

She nodded, looking at him earnestly. “Yes, Dad. It’s not bedtime if you don’t read to me,” she said, settling back against her pillows, arms out from where he had tucked her in, geese lining her cotton blue pyjamas.

“Okay, tradition’s tradition,” Spencer replied, his voice non-chalant as he picked up her copy of Eragon, settling into bed next to her and opening up the dense novel to where they had last left it. He slid the bookmark out, holding it against the back of the book, and Maya snuggled into his shoulder, following along to his soft, soothing voice.

As Spencer read to her, she felt herself growing drowsy, her eyes drooping a little, a yawn escaping her and he smiled, looking down at her. “Time to sleep, monkey,” he murmured, settling her head against the pillows.

As he tucked her in, she looked up at him, still not quite ready to let him go. “Dad?” she mumbled, her eyes still closed, but she wasn’t quite asleep yet either.

"Yeah?"

"Can you... stay here for a little while?" she asked, quietly, so much so that he almost wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. Despite all her teenage huffing and her constant efforts to show how big and grown-up she was these days, there were still moments like these, when she reminded him that she was still a little girl at heart.

"Sure, I'll be right here," he murmured, stroking her hair as she closed her eyes.

She let out a soft sigh, a content little sound, and snuggled even further down into the blankets. "Thanks, Dad," she mumbled groggily, her voice soft and thick with sleep.

"You got it, monkey," he whispered and she smiled sleepily, her grip on his hand loosening as she slipped into the comforting embrace of sleep.

[angelltheninth]

HELLOOOO GOOD MORNNNNNN (even if its prolly not morning there) huge fan, love your hoyo posts LOVE UR WRITING IN GENERAL!!!!!!!! feel free to ignore if ur not taking any reqs rn but i wanted to know your take on the batboys having a meet-cute with their s/o!!! hope u have a good day btw 🫶

I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. Really makes my day.

Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x Reader

Tags: fluff, meet-cute, flirting, difference of opinion, banter, dancing, pets

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I thought it would be funny to give them something more normal rather than the regula superhero things.

DICK GRAYSON

You meet him at the local dog shelter. Both of you want to adopt the same dog and neither of you want to back off. Dick is pretty well built and argues that he would take the dog out on walks a lot more than you, but on the other hand you live in a bigger house with a backyard so the dog wouldn't need to be cooped up in an apartment while Dick does, whatever he does for a living. When you hear he already has one dog you tell him then it's only fair that you get this one. The only way to settle this is to let the dog choose. And the dog chose you, much to your apparent rival's disappointment. Well since you both have a dog now, perhaps luck will have it and you'll meet at the park. He looks like a fun dog dad.

JASON TODD

Jason was someone you saw a few times at the bar that you both frequent. You never approached him before, despite really wanting to, so he approached you first. He called you out on staring at him like some pervert, and if you claim you're not then you should have no problem dancing with him. One dance isn't gonna kill you, or maybe you're a horrible dancer and you're hiding it. Well he might be an asshole, but you're the one who's been eyeing him ever since he stepped into the bar. So he gets to tease you for tonight. All he wants actually, since it's so fun to watch you blush. In exchange for being your dance and drinking buddy for the night, how about you repay him with a date.

TIM DRAKE

Tim and you go to the same classes at college so you see each other pretty often, or whenever he shows up actually. You never talked much, outside of when you needed to, you just knew of each other, more than knowing each other. In fact the first time you first talked to each other, for a long period of time, was in the library when you were both looking for the same book. Since you both had project deadlines and he was too busy at night, for some reason, you agreed to work on your projects in the afternoons. As it turns out he's a pretty nice guy, not at all the rich loner you thought he'd be. Not only that but he is very helpful when it came to your own project. So helpful in fact that you had to ask him on a date to thank him.

DAMIAN WAYNE

He really likes books and proving that he has better taste and understanding than anyone else. So of course you get into a debate with him over the book you read for this months book club. Damian is loud and has plenty of opinions, you and everyone else will hear them out regardless if you want to or not. This your first time seeing him at your book club so he has to be new and already making enemies. Of course you knew who he was, his last name was a dead giveaway, but just because his dad is one of the richest men in Gotham doesn't mean he gets to be rude. A fight almost breaks out between you two but he has a smirk on his face the whole time, a rather cute smirk. Part of you hopes that he'll show up to the next meeting.

[dinoandguitar]

"..Coffee?"

Idol!KwonSoonyoung x Staff!Reader

The first time Hoshi saw her, he nearly ran into a wall. It wasn’t dramatic like a slow-motion movie moment, but it sure felt like one.

She was standing near the practice room, listening intently to one of the senior staff members. Her clipboard was tucked under one arm, her head tilted slightly as she nodded along. Then she smiled, small but bright, like it came naturally to her.

Hoshi, mid-step, completely lost focus. One second, he was walking out of the practice room, and the next... BAM!

He smacked right into the doorframe.

"Hyung!" Dino yelped, catching his arm before he could stumble too hard. "Are you okay?" Hoshi barely heard him. His ears were ringing, and not just from the impact. He glanced up quickly, praying that she hadn’t seen..

She had.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parting like she was about to ask if he was alright. Hoshi panicked. He spun on his heel and speed-walked back inside, slamming the door behind him.

Dino blinked at the now-closed door before turning to the staff members. "Uh… he's fine... I think.."

♡

Over the next few days, Hoshi became painfully aware of her presence. She wasn’t around all the time, but when she was, he turned into a full-on puppy-eager, flustered, and ridiculously obvious about his crush.

"Hyung, you're staring again," Joshua said, nudging him as they sat on the practice room floor.

"I'm not!" Hoshi hissed, even though he absolutely was.

She was across the room, checking something on her clipboard while chatting with another staff member. She looked so calm and professional, and here he was, sweating over her mere existence.

Jeonghan smirked. "You're wagging your tail."

Hoshi shot him a glare. "I do not have a tail."

"You might as well with how excited you get whenever she's near."

Hoshi groaned, dropping his head onto his knees. This was ridiculous. He was Kwon Soonyoung, SEVENTEEN’s performance leader, the energetic one, the confident one. Why was he turning into a shy mess every time she was in the same room?

♡

His crush only got worse when he actually interacted with her. One day, she was passing out water bottles after a long practice session. Hoshi was mid-conversation with Mingyu when she walked up, holding one out to him with a soft smile.

"Here, you looked like you needed this," she said.

Hoshi forgot how to speak.

He stared at the bottle. Then at her. Then back at the bottle.

"Hyung, take it," Mingyu muttered.

Hoshi finally snapped out of it, grabbing the bottle way too quickly. "Thank you!" he blurted out, his voice a little too enthusiastic. She laughed—a soft, amused sound that made his heart go haywire. "No problem," she said before moving on.

Hoshi turned to Mingyu, gripping his arm. "Mingyu-yah. Did you hear that? She laughed at something I said!"

Mingyu looked unimpressed. "She laughed because you were weird."

"Doesn't matter," Hoshi whispered, clutching the water bottle to his chest. "She laughed."

Mingyu sighed. "You're hopeless."

♡

The teasing only got worse when the other members caught on. One evening, Hoshi was lingering near the break room, psyching himself up to talk to her. "Be cool," he told himself under his breath. "Just go in, say hi, and act normal—"

The moment he stepped inside, she turned and smiled. "Oh, hey Hoshi!"

He froze.

His brain blanked.

"Uh-hi! Coffee!" he blurted out. "I mean...you’re drinking coffee. Nice. That’s… great."

She blinked. Then, to his horror, she giggled."Yeah," she said, looking amused. "Do you want some?"

"No!" Hoshi yelped, then immediately regretted it. "I mean, no, I just-I was gonna- um…"

She tilted her head, waiting. Hoshi took a deep breath. Okay, just say it.

"I was wondering if...maybe...you’d like to get coffee with me? Not like this coffee but like outside coffee. With me. Together. If you want."

A long pause.

Then, she smiled. "Are you asking me out?"

Hoshi swallowed. "Yes?"

She laughed, soft and genuine. "I’d love to."

Hoshi blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Really."

He barely managed to hold back a victorious cheer. Instead, he gave a very enthusiastic nod, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Cool! Great! Uh, I’ll text you!" he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

As she walked away, Hoshi turned the corner and immediately collapsed against the wall. His heart was racing. His hands were shaking. His entire body felt like it was on fire.

And as he entered the practice room, he knew he was in for some good teasing by his members. And as embarrassing it will be, Hoshi didn’t even care. Because he had a date with her.

And that was all that mattered.

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

A night you deserve - sfw

Character: Cho hyun-ju X fem!reader

Summary: Hyun ju thinks that Y/N has forgotten their anniversary, but Y/N is planning something special in secret.🦑

Warnings: None

Cho Hyun-Ju sat on the small porch of their house in Thailand, her arms crossed as she stared out at the quiet woods. The soft rustling of the leaves and the distant chirping of birds did nothing to ease the irritation bubbling in her chest.

She had woken up that morning expecting something—anything—to acknowledge their anniversary. But Y/N had acted completely normal. No flowers. No special breakfast. Not even a happy anniversary whisper in bed. She bit her lip, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and guilt. Maybe she was expecting too much.

Maybe Y/N had been too busy lately to remember. But still, after everything they'd been through—the game, escaping that nightmare, starting over together in this quiet little house—shouldn’t today be important? With a frustrated sigh, she got up and wandered inside, but Y/N was nowhere to be found. Just a note on the kitchen counter:

"Had to run some errands. Be back later. Love you."

Hyun-Ju scoffed. Errands? On our anniversary? She spent the next few hours pacing, checking her phone, even considering calling, but she didn’t want to sound needy. So instead, she cleaned the house aggressively, went on a short walk to clear her head, and finally collapsed on the couch, arms folded.

Then, just as the sun began to dip below the trees, the front door creaked open. “Hey,” Y/N greeted, stepping inside with a tired but excited grin. “Busy day?” Hyun-Ju narrowed her eyes. “You tell me.” Y/N chuckled but didn’t reply—just walked over and held out a hand. “Come with me?” She hesitated, suspicious, but took their hand anyway.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Y/N led her outside, through a narrow dirt path she hadn’t noticed before. The sky had turned a soft shade of orange, the air warm and slightly humid. They walked for a few minutes until they reached a clearing—where Hyun-Ju stopped in her tracks.

A small wooden table sat under the trees, covered with a cloth, a few candles flickering on top. A simple but delicious-looking meal was set out, along with a small cake decorated with tiny sugar flowers. Fireflies danced in the air, glowing faintly like tiny stars. Hyun-Ju’s heart clenched. “I—” She turned to Y/N, at a loss for words. Y/N rubbed the back of their neck.

“I wanted to surprise you. That’s why I was gone today. I was setting this up.” Hyun-Ju blinked. “You… remembered?” “Of course I remembered.” Y/N smiled, stepping closer and taking her hands. “I wanted to make today special. You deserve that.” For a moment, Hyun-Ju didn’t know what to say. All her earlier frustration felt silly now.

She squeezed their hands, looking down to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks. “…I was mad at you, you know,” she muttered. Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of got that.” She huffed but couldn’t keep the small smile from forming on her lips. “This is… really nice.” Y/N’s fingers brushed against her cheek.

“Happy anniversary, Hyun-Ju.” She let out a soft breath, looking into their eyes. The past still haunted her sometimes—the echoes of the game, the memories of fear—but right now, in this moment, with Y/N by her side, she felt something stronger than fear. She felt safe.

“…Happy anniversary,” she whispered, pulling them into a gentle kiss.

🦑🦑🦑

[babyjinsu]

heartlink - anton lee

it's a match!

002 of 001

wc; 2.5k anton borderline stalker manipulator creep

by the time you know it, you and anton were planning for another date.

both of you had been talking (exchanged numbers) for almost two months now; and you could feel it—that anton was genuinely interested in you. he let it be known too. he never failed to ask about your day, everyday, and even remembered little details you didn’t realise you had mentioned. like that one time you were ranting about a classmate and he asked if it was the same girl who took credit for your work in the team. 

it felt nice. really nice, in fact. you couldn’t recall the last time you were excited to talk to someone past bedtime.

anton: should we go to the forest park? spring is near :) 

you read the message twice. the forest park was a little further out but he was right—parks are so much prettier during springs. 

yn: sounds nice! i haven’t been there in a while^^

anton: that’s perfect then. saturday afternoon?

yn: that works. i’ll c u soon

anton: i cant wait 

you liked talking to anton, and if he truly liked you the way you did, you could see a relationship forming between the two of you.

——

the weather was perfect. it was chilly, not too cold, but just enough to make you slightly shiver under your sweater. the last time you were here was a year, or two years ago before you enrolled in university. it looked even prettier than you remember—the trees just starting to wake from winter. 

despite the cold air, anton’s presence was warm beside you. 

thankfully, this time you didn’t feel that uneasiness creeping into your bones like before. if anything, you felt comfortable. maybe the first date was just your nervous system acting up.

you and anton walked side by side, talking about everything and nothing—his upcoming tests, your tasks last weekend, and so on. the rhythm felt natural. and at some point, the conversation shifted to pets.

“i’m thinking of adopting a dog,” you said, kicking a loose pebble on the path. “not like a really big one. maybe a corgi, or a shiba? they’re really cute.” anton hummed beside you, hands in his pocket. “yeah? what about a cat?” he asked, looking at you from his height.

“i love cats, but…” you crossed your arms, looking up to the sun that was dipping low. “i want a pet that gets excited when i come home. so it doesn’t feel so lonely.” you smiled, looking up at him.

anton chuckled. “true true,” he nodded, looking forward. “besides, you’re allergic to cats.” 

your smile and steps faltered. 

you felt the air around you suddenly dropped in temperature. you came to a stop, cocking your head slightly in confusion. “...what?”

anton glanced back at you and stopped his tracks as well; turning his body to face you. he still had a smile on his face. “what?” he echoed, almost amused. 

you blinked, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “how do you know that?”

“about what?” anton asked.

it dawned on you that the only people in the park were you and anton. you suddenly become hyper-aware of your vicinity—the once comforting rustling and petals falling from the trees now felt eerily hollow. 

“about me being allergic to cats…” you murmured—your voice coming out softer than intended.

anton blinked at you, then let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head slightly. “you told me.”

you frowned. “no, i didn’t.”

you stared at him, your heart racing. had you? you knew you hadn’t. the only people who knew about your allergy to cats were your family members and some of your friends (because you came to their apartments often)—and your past roommate. if you did tell him at one point, you would’ve remembered. why would you even tell him about your allergy to cats?

but the way anton was looking at you so casually, like it was obvious—like you were the one being weird.

“you did,” he insisted, his voice even; unlike yours. “you must’ve forgotten.” 

your arms tightened around yourself. “i… i don’t think I did, though?” 

anton’s eyes married just a fraction. “are you sure?” he hummed. his voice was gentle and patient, as if he was speaking to someone, you, who had misplaced a memory. “maybe you mentioned it in passing? people forget small things all the time.” 

you hesitated. that wasn’t wrong, at all. your mother said you’re forgetful all the time.

he took a step closer to you, his smile didn’t waver. anton stood just close enough that you could catch a faint scent of his cologne—he smelled like damp earth after rain. you hoped he didn’t hear the way your heart’s beating against your ribcage. “i told you, i know you,” he murmured, you could barely catch it over the rustling wind. “we’ve talked a lot. i pay attention to you, that’s all.” 

there was something unsettling about the way he said that—it should’ve made you feel better. happy, giddy, excited, that anton paid attention to you—the small, trivial, details about you. he cared enough to. 

but instead you forced out a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “i mean, i guess it’s possible. i’m just forgetful sometimes.”

anton hummed, stretching his arms out above his head. “good thing i remember things for you, then.” he smiled. you mirrored him, plastering a small, almost forced smile onto your face and started walking again—anton followed close behind, falling back into steps beside you.

it was just a slip of memory, nothing weird. nothing weird at all.

the air still felt cold, but anton’s presence was still warm.

——

ever since the second date, everything that came out of anton’s mouth sounded, and felt very uneasy for you. so the decision to stop talking to anton—just happened…

it wasn’t anything concrete, the reasoning wasn’t something you could point to and say, this is why. it was the way it was spoken—so sure of the things you were certain (after thorough memory recalling) you never told him; it’s the way he made you question yourself. so small, and so insignificant even, but you couldn’t get it off your mind. it was burrowing into your skin like a splinter. 

slowly, you let the conversation fade into nothing. you stopped replying as often; the way you’re replying was obvious you were in no mood to talk—then you stopped replying altogether. you did feel guilty, felt like you fumbled a really handsome, tall, smart dude but you just couldn’t shake off the feeling. that weird gurgle feeling in your stomach when you think of him.

at first you convinced yourself that it was just temporary—new semester was unfolding so you’ve got to prepare yourself anyway. besides, a coworker had just quitted, which meant you had to work double shifts. it wasn’t just anton to be fair, you quitted tinder too. deleted your account and everything because you just didn’t find it fun anymore. anton would understand, you knew him that much, at least.  

he didn’t bombarded you with texts, but he did check in.

anton: hey, everything ok? youve been quiet :/ 

anton: hopefully things are fine. did i do something wrong? 

you stared at the messages for a long time, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 

days passed, anton still hadn’t stopped texting.

anton: you havent been responding me 

anton: yn?

you fought the urge to reply, to send him a text—a lie—telling him that you just got a bit busy for the past few days! and things were fine and that you guys should go out again! but you didn’t. you just left him on read, and eventually, anton was left on simply delivered. 

then a few weeks passed, no more texts came on the other end. you didn’t know how to feel. it’s normal and logical for people to stop putting effort after realising it’s not reciprocated—it’s not something you could blame anton for. 

so you blocked him, 

and you thought that was the end of it, you really, really, did. 

——

the student gathering was loud, mixed with overlapping conversations and hum of music. the air carried the aroma of grilled meat and sizzling fat as people talked and passed plates and clinked drinks over each other. like most people in the restaurant, you had been roped into this by your friends—and you were surprisingly having a good time. until, you got a phone call from your mother. 

“oh, i’ve got to take this call…”

the cool air of the night hit you almost immediately as you stepped out. standing just beside the restaurant’s building, you pressed your phone against your ear as your mother’s voice filtered through the receiver. “how’s the new semester, honey?”

you smiled warmly despite her not being able to see it anyway. “mm, it’s fine,” you reassured, leaning against the brick. you glanced briefly at your friends chugging bottles of beers through the glass door. “i’m at the art department’s party right now.” 

you heard your mother muttering a small ‘wow’ before she asked you about your classes. “it’s okay so far. only been a few weeks… not excited to learn more.” you chuckle, looking down on your mary janes. 

the new semester was swiping in faster than you’d prepared yourself for. the new syllabus, new lecturers, new faces in your class… they weren’t foreign, but somehow it just felt like so.

“hehe, i’ll probably come back during the mid-semester break,” you replied to your mother’s question asking when will you be back? your younger sister’s missing you. you adjusted your grip on your phone, switching it to the other ear as your mother talked about your dad’s annoying behaviour. 

eventually, the conversation came to an end—with your mother telling you to not skip meals, and to have enough rest, you bid your mother goodbye and ended the phone call, but not before telling her that you loved her. 

you hummed softly to yourself, tucking your phone back inside your cardigan until a sudden wisp of smoke curled into the air, the smell sharp and acrid. you scrunched your nose as it hits you, before you noticed the figure standing a few feet away, back leaning against the wall. the ember of the tip of his cigarette flared as he took another slow drag.

whatever, just a dude smoking, you thought, people smoke all the time—and they couldn’t be bothered enough to check their surroundings. you exhaled. 

you pushed off the wall, ready to head back inside—

“wow,” a voice drawled, smooth and amused. “yn? what are you doing here?”

you froze. you knew that voice. you hadn’t heard it for weeks.

your breath hitched slightly as you turned your head.

and there he was. anton stood there, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. there was that same smile, that same, charming, boyish smile on his face that swept you off the ground. 

his voice carried a lilt of surprise as he flickered the cigarette, the ember glowing before dimming again. he pushed himself off the wall, and made his way just slightly towards you.

you forced your lips to move, now fully facing him. your legs were too frozen to move—to leave, to run back in where he, you thought, wouldn’t be brave enough to confront. “i—” you swallowed, “i could ask you the same thing.” 

anton only lets out a small laugh before taking another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in slow breath. you never knew he smoke. he never told you, and he certainly didn’t look like one.

“i’m picking up a friend,” he hummed, nudging his head towards the inside of the restaurant. his friend was someone from your university. you never heard him mention any friends before—not that he had to, but… 

you pressed your lips together, nodding in acknowledgement—but honestly it just felt like you needed to do some kind of physical interaction to hide the uneasiness on your face. “oh,” you murmured, shifting your feet. “that’s nice…”

you didn’t know what else to say.

you felt anton’s gaze on you, and even without looking, you could tell he still had that smile plastered on his face. your skin prickled, goosebumps rose across your body. 

“you look pretty,” he said suddenly. the soft glow of his cigarette flickered, the scent heavier than the cold feeling of the night air. “been doing okay?” 

god, it was just a simple question. why do you feel like crying? 

either way, you forced down the heavy lump rising in your throat. “yeah,” you lied, nodding. “just… been busy.” you continued, crossing your arms—hugging yourself as a sense of security, self-soothing mechanism, even. you’re still not looking at him.

anton hummed, tilting his head slightly. he could see right through you. atta girl, 

“did you change your number?” he asked, almost offhandedly. “my texts wouldn’t go through. did something happen?” 

you felt your pulse spiking. oh my god, oh my god. he tried texting you? 

your throat went dry, your fingers gripped your cardigan tighter—you didn’t just ghost anton, you cut him off. you blocked and went out of radar. you deleted your tinder account, wiped everything away. and he still tried? 

anton let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at your silence. it gave it away.

“you blocked me, didn’t you?”

you remained quiet, fingers pinching on your own skin. anton exhaled another slow breath of smoke. he was looking at you and the way he was looking at you—his eyes, they didn’t hold a look of disappointment, or anger, or or, being rejected. it was something worse, it was amusement.

like he had found it funny. ridiculous, childish, expected. 

your stomach churned when you caught a glimpse of it. 

“i should head back,” you muttered. it took you a lot of courage to say that. your body was already half-turning towards the glass door of the restaurant—just a few steps, and you’d be greeted by your friends asking what took you so long, and the scent of meat and alcohol. you’d be safe.

but before you could, anton shifted—just lightly, 

anton wrapped his fingers around your wrist. it wasn’t tight nor was it forceful—it was warm and firm. 

it was just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat, to send a cold rush down your spine. your body freezing on instinct. 

you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing down at his hand to where it engulfed yours—his fingers, slender and steady, easily curved around the fragile line of your wrist. for a second, you thought of how easy it would be for anton to break it.

then, slowly, his thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, absentmindedly, memorising—feeling the way your pulse jumped beneath your skin.

“anton,” you breathed out, your own betraying you. he hummed, his lips curling at the edges as he took another step closer—he didn’t pull you in. the space between you both shrinking as his presence settled into your circle.  “come on,” he said, tilting his head slightly. his grip didn’t tighten nor did it loosen.

“we haven’t talked for so long,” anton continued, his tone light. there was something mockery in the way he said it, just beneath the surface of his voice that gave goosebumps over your arms. his fingers twitched against your cold skin, not a lot, but intentional.

a heartbeat passed,

then another—

“what’s the rush?”

💭 hes so hot oh my lawd..... part 3 or similar concept w other members r being think-ed about....