#because i do not choose the fixation. It Chooses Me.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.7 K Warnings: MAJOR ANGST / I’m about to angst you with an angst that you’ve never been angst with before. Prompt: Vixen believes she's in the middle, and she hates the idea of stopping any of her boys from being happy. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it

Chapter 53: Too Much Love Will KiII You

How would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose No, there's no making sense of it Every way I go I'm bound to lose

The day went by as you’d expect. James didn’t take long to also walk upstairs and join the three of you in a poker game that Remus had taught you how to play. Cards weren’t that big in the wizarding world, especially not poker because of how easy they were to enchant and how hard they were to charmproof. But Remus had managed to charm his deck with a spell so riddled, it would take more time than the one you had in one game to actually crack it. 

Besides, neither you nor did any of the boys want to cheat. Not when poker was so godric damned entertaining, and certainly not with how fun it was to see Sirius lose to you, James and Remus all the time. He couldn’t bluff, even if he wanted to. 

It’s not that Sirius was a bad liar per se, in fact, if he played against anyone other than you three (even against Peter who had always been a little absent-minded) he would have easily tricked them, unfortunately for him, his two best friends and his girlfriend were too good at uncovering his inner intentions. 

It was in the little twitch of an eye, in the way he put effort into trying to maintain a straight face, in the way he would look you in the eye or avoid it. 

“Raise,” Sirius said and placed another sickle into the money cauldron you had placed on the bed. The four of you were sitting. James had pulled out a chair, Sirius was sitting by Remus and you were on the other side of the bed, where you made sure no one could see your cards.

You gave Remus a look, he shook his head. “I fold,” you said. 

“Me too,” James agreed, he hadn’t seen Remus and your interaction, Sirius’ face had been enough, he could almost smell the confidence oozing from his friend.

Sirius smiled as he brought down his cards, three Aces. It had been a brilliant move to call it, Remus had called earlier, since he’d gotten a meagre pair of threes, and you had two jacks, but there was nothing on the table to help you besides that. 

Sirius smiled and brought the money to his side, letting the little bronze coins twinkle and be a mess in his lap while Remus sighted. His and yours were neatly accommodated in stacks. “‘Nother round?” James asked as he munched on some popcorn that Mellie had brought. You had some chocolate on your lap and you opened the package. 

“Mhm,” you agreed, you were about to give a bite to your chocolate when Sirius leaned over Remus’ legs and beat you to it, “Oi!”

He turned to you with a pair of puppy eyes and a little pout. You sighed in disbelief and then he leaned over and pressed a short kiss to your lips before he pulled back. You were startled by his sudden action, and your eyes almost instantly turned to Remus, whose gaze was fixated on Sirius as he munched on the rest of the chocolate and picked up the cards to shuffle them. 

You swallowed, you hated the butterflies in your stomach because no matter how delighted Sirius’ kisses made you feel, you knew they were making your best friend upset. You bit your lip as you looked at them both, at the way Remus attentively looked at Sirius’s hands. It was easy to justify such a stare, he wanted to make sure Sirius wouldn’t cheat, but you knew the real reason behind it. Sirius had nice hands, you had stared at his hands before, and damn he was dexterous with them. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” James said, and took the cards from Sirius’ hands, Remus broke his stare and looked up almost nervously, meeting yours, you offered him a soft smile and turned to James who had made a mess of the cards. You bit your lip trying not to smile and picked Sirius’ wand from the side, waving it over the mess, the cards floated and then neatly arranged themselves on a stack. 

“Thanks, Vix,” he said, taking them in his hands before he proceeded to shuffle them. Once he was satisfied enough with the shuffling, he started to deal. You got a card first, then Sirius, he handed one to Remus and then he pressed one over his lap.

By the time James finished dealing the cards, you had already taken a look at your stack, and it took a great deal of effort not to let your eyes shine when he placed the first card from the stack onto the table. Good game. 

This one drew out for longer, either everyone else had a great stack, or they were bluffing, so you had to pay attention to them, James seemed slightly nervous when you raised for the third time, and he swallowed before placing money on the cauldron. Remus looked confident, but you’d recently gotten a lot better at reading him, and you didn’t think he actually had a great game. 

As for Sirius, the three of you already knew he was bluffing, which is why perhaps the two other boys were still raising you. Sirius had an overly confident smile on his face, but he had not stopped tapping his finger over his knee since James placed the second card on the table. You thought it was adorable that he hadn’t quite realised what he was doing yet either.

“Raise,” you said. 

Sirius placed more money on the centre along with Remus and you. James called at that point, not revealing his game yet, but placing his cards on the bed with a rather defeated air as he grabbed a fist of popcorn and brought it to his face. 

Remus raised along with you. Sirius threw a nervous look at you, taking in your confident stance and taking in a deep breath. “Raise,” he said, a challenging look on his face. 

You placed a couple more coins in the centre without much thought. Remus did the same, enjoying the tension between you and Sirius. You were eyeing each other in such a solemn manner that it was hard for him to hold back a laugh. Even if he lost, it didn’t matter at this point, he just loved your little concentrated faces. 

“All or nothing?” Sirius said as he swallowed. 

“Sure,” you said.

“Vixen that’s–” James said when he realised what you were about to do, he wasn’t sure Sirius was bluffing anymore. But you were.

“Shhh, you’re out of it, Prongs,” Remus said as he too pushed his stash onto the table.

James tilted his head to the side and looked at the three of you nervously. “Well then, show your cards,” he urged.

You took yours but then Sirius stopped both you and Remus by placing his hands on your arms. Remus gave his hand a look and you turned to him with a frown “I raise again.” 

“You can’t raise again, all the money is in the pot,” you said matter of factly. “Well, the cauldron,” you added as you pointed at the pile.

“Never said I’d raise with money, Étoile,” he responded. Sirius was in the deep end. He had a pair of fours and a bunch of other useless cards. He had to get you to fold somehow. “Whoever loses, stays shirtless for the rest of the day.” 

“I can’t really take off my bandages,” Remus said as he threw Sirius a look. 

“Fold then,” Sirius answered with a satisfied smile.

“Twat,” he responded and threw his cards into the bed. “You don’t have to comply with it, Luv. Sirius is desperate.” 

“You’re out of it, Moons,” Sirius retorted and turned to you with a daring look. 

“Shirtless, the rest of the day?”

“You’re more than welcome to fold if you don’t believe in your hand, that is.” 

“Sirius I don’t think–” James started but Sirius threw him a look. 

“Fine,” you smiled. “Whoever loses has to stay shirtless.” 

Remus groaned and covered his face with his eyes. He knew Sirius was bluffing, but he wasn’t sure if you were bluffing too, and he had seen Sirius shirtless plenty of times, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see you shirtless though. “Little Witch, can you never back down from a fight?” 

“Nope,” you said with a smile. “I’m confident in this one.” 

“Yeah, well me too. I raise you again–” 

“Shut up Sirius and show your cards now, she’s not going to fold and I don’t need people walking naked in my house,” Prongs said. 

Time for showdown, you thought as you looked at Sirius and placed your cards on the table. He knew he was doomed the minute he spotted your king, a perfect match for the one on the bed, not to mention the three queens beside him. 

“Fuck,” he said as he left his card on the bed too. “I thought you were trying to bluff.” 

“Vix is cunning, but no one in her right mind would have accepted your stupid raise if they didn’t know they were gonna win,” James said.

Sirius sighed and took off his shirt and threw it your way, you had also seen him shirtless a couple of times, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, even if he was thinner than both James and Remus. You pulled his shirt from your face and smiled when you realised it was the Bowie shirt he liked to wear all the time. 

Sirius placed both of his arms around his torso, the chill of the open window was enough to make him shiver, you took the cauldron with money and placed its contents into your front pocket, you hadn’t thought just how useful the overalls would be when you bought them. 

“I’m keeping this one,” you said as you motioned to his shirt, he gaped at you. 

“That wasn’t the deal!” 

“Was it him or me the one that decided to put clothes into the pot?” you asked, turning to the two other boys as you did. 

“I think it was Padfoot, wasn’t it?” Prongs teased.

“I’m most definitely sure it was him,” Remus agreed with a smile. Sirius groaned in response. 

“I’m not a petty winner,” you said as you untied the jumper you’d been wearing from around your shoulders and threw it his way. “Take this, we don’t want you to freeze. 

Remus tried not to laugh at the face Sirius made when he caught the jumper and held back a smile when Sirius put on his jumper. Sirius didn’t steal his jumpers as often as you did, he always had his jacket around, and Remus would be lying if he said seeing Sirius wearing his clothes didn’t make him feel stuff.

 “Doesn’t look bad on you,” you teased. 

“Doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would,” he retorted. “You’ve been wearing it for days.” 

You gasped at that and pushed him lightly. Remus turned to pick up his deck while you and Sirius continued to bicker and really tried not to eye Sirius again. 

Sunday, January 9th, 1977

Remus had stayed on the bed and both you and Sirius had turned into your animagus so you could fit alongside him, it was undoubtedly comfortable, almost like things were settling back into normal. But of course, they were not normal, and they couldn’t be. Not after everything that had happened. Not now that you knew things that you weren’t supposed to know. 

You had woken up at some point during the night, and you tried to ignore the pang in your heart when you noticed Sirius had turned back during the night again, and he was nuzzling into Remus’ shoulder in the same way you sometimes nuzzled into yours. You weren’t sure he looked nearly as comfortable in your arms as he did in his.

You stared at the two of them for a minute before you turned your head and wrapped your tail around yourself. Trying to find comfort in its fluffy embrace, as you swallowed. You really had been too blind, it had been there all the time. You’d taken pictures of it, you’d thought it was funny and adorable, you teased Sirius for it for fucks sake, how did you not see it before?

It had always been right in front of your eyes. You weren’t sure you had ever felt more stupid. Remus was asleep, but he somehow sensed your stirring on the bed and instantly placed his hand over your back, gently brushing his fingers over your fur, like he had done so many times during those nights when you could barely sleep back in his parent’s cottage. 

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and here you were, making him miserable, making both him and your boyfriend miserable. Feeling terrible over it, you jumped down from the bed and allowed yourself to lay close to the fire. Trying not to think how nice it had been that one time when Remus had walked right beside you and wrapped the two of you with the covers. You really didn’t deserve him, you didn’t deserve to cry on his lap, not when you were the main cause of his heartache. Not when you were the one impeding his love to come into fruition. 

Perhaps you really were as terrible as you had said yourself to be back then when you could only think about what you’d done at the Christmas Party. Remus had convinced you otherwise, but he was probably wrong. It had all been your fault, and your mother was dеad and the person you’d tried to save hadn’t even made it out alive. You really had made everything worse, and perhaps you were doing that here too. 

Perhaps that was something inherent to you, something that you couldn’t shake out. Perhaps you just carried misery with you in the same way James carried fun, Sirius carried love and Remus carried comfort. Maybe you had been cursed and you didn’t know about it, maybe it was the fae blood, cursed for mixing with wizards. 

“Hey, what’s up?” James asked as he sat beside you. 

You turned to him surprised, turning into your human form as you looked at him startled. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, I was going to the bathroom, saw a little fox moping the corner.” 

“Not moping,” you said with a frown. “It was cold.” 

“And I’m as brilliant at potions as Dad,” he responded sarcastically. Then pushed you slightly with his shoulder. “Is it about Christmas? Do you wanna talk about that?” 

You sighed, “It’s not,” you said honestly. “Not entirely at least.” 

“Then?” 

“James, if you loved two people, and you knew they loved each other, would you step out of the way and let them be happy without you?” 

“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a frown.

“Just something I read in a book,” you lied. 

James turned to you as if assessing you, but he couldn’t tell what was going on in your head, you just looked at the fire, and then leaned your head on your knee as you turned to him, “So?” 

“Do you really think those two people would be happier if they were together?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied. “But the main character knows they could never test their love if they’re in the middle.”

“Well, I guess I’d leave. Wouldn’t you?”  

“Even if you love one of them?” 

“Didn’t you say it was both?” James asked, confused.  

“I mean– yeah. Just not the same kind of love, I guess.” 

“What kind of book are you reading?” James asked with a frown. 

You tried not to panic, “It’s a muggle book, Russian, and very cheesy, you wouldn’t like it.” 

“What did the main character do?” 

“Haven’t read that part yet.” 

“Well, I think he should do the right thing, don’t you?” 

“Probably,” you said as you let out a long sigh. James was now bouncing his leg right next to you. “Weren’t you going to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Just wanted to check up on you, I’m glad you’re upset over a book and not something else.” 

“Yeah,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, perhaps if there had been more light, and James wasn’t as blind as a Wilddeoren without his glasses he would have noticed. “I guess I got really invested.” 

Finally, he left towards the bathroom, you turned back into Vixen and returned to the bed, staying near the side rather than climbing back onto Remus’ chest.

When you woke up again, Sirius was looking at you with a smile. “Ready for the party?” 

“Isn’t that in a couple of hours?” you asked. 

“But it’s going to be so much fun! Monty said we could raid his alcohol stash as long as Effie didn’t notice.”

You smiled, if James was as much of a troublemaker as he was, it was because both Monty and Effie took turns to allow him to do stuff without the other noticing. He’d learned how to fly when he was five behind Monty’s back, and he’d been allowed to drink since he turned 14, behind Effie’s. 

“How nice of him,” you replied. “What’s for breakfast?” 

“I think he's preparing some pancakes for us. James and Remus are helping.” 

“James is helping?” 

“He’s good, you’d be surprised,” Sirius said with a laugh. His teeth gleamed as the beam of sun from the window fell on his face. You allowed your head to rest on the pillow as you looked at him. He was stupidly pretty. You were about to lean closer to him when Picksie approached a few feet behind Sirius. 

“Master Fleamont says the food is ready,” She said with her squeaky little voice. 

It was hard not to laugh at the face Sirius made, he knew he was getting a kiss before she appeared, but after a defeated sigh he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, “You’re coming, Étoile?” 

The hours flew by a lot faster than you expected. James was absolutely thrilled about Lily coming over to his house for the first time and he didn’t shut up about it all through breakfast. Effie seemed keenly interested in meeting the girl –officially– and Monty was a little worried as a dad who had utter confidence in his child. 

You were all sitting in the living room, already changed into party clothes, that being a simple skirt, the shirt you’d won at poker (to rub it on Sirius), and a jumper Moony had thrown your way when he saw it was snowing again. Remus and Sirius were playing magic chess while you read a book and James had dozed off on the couch just next to you –he’d been trying to read a book to impress Lily and it wasn’t going that well. 

Sirius was looking at Remus as he made his next move, the taller boy had both of his arms folded over his chest and was biting his lip as he drew all the scenarios in his head. There was a softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before, something akin to admiration, but so much more than that. He realised you were staring and he shot you a wink. 

“Horse F5,” Remus said, and his horse moved to break one of Sirius’ pawns into pieces. 

“Were you just waiting for me to get distracted?” Sirius scoffed. 

“Well, it’s not my fault you were looking at Vixen while I decided to make a move,” Remus responded with a shit-eating grin. He had, indeed, been waiting.

“Jerk,” Sirius complained and turned back to the chessboard.  His tower was just a few blocks from the horse and he could destroy him, but Remus had made sure to move his horse near one of his pawns. If Sirius took revenge, he would lose his tower as well, and this time he’d be losing to a pawn. He huffed and made a different move. 

You looked at the two of them after that, just paying attention to the way they played, at just how comfortable they seemed to be around each other. You hated it, not how happy they were, that was delightful, it filled your heart with joy to see them smiling and joking around. 

Both of them –although one had a loud personality– had a gloomy atmosphere that they seemed to carry along at all times. While Remus tended to be quiet and reserved, and Sirius played jokes to mask his feelings, both of them had a sort of dolefulness deeply embedded within them. You’d seen it when you looked at them in the halls and when they had been apart from the rest of their friends for a while. 

You noticed when they were around James it lifted, and how could it not? James’ personality was warm and welcoming enough to melt even the most frozen of people, but even that, was nothing compared to what you were seeing just now. The way they joked, the way they talked, it was absolutely fascinating how much they cared for each other. 

And then there was you, you made them happy too, you weren’t stupid enough not to notice, but it was when they were both together that that dolefulness seemed to lift almost completely from their shoulder as if it never had been there in the first place as if there had never been a tragic backstory burdening their minds.

What you were too stupid to see back then, was that whenever you saw that, the magic that seemed to be almost buzzing through both boys as they chatted and joked together was that even though they were interacting with one another, you were also in the room. 

John Berger once said, "Every spectator is a participant”. And really, without your participation in such scenes, the result wouldn’t have been the same. The perfect atmosphere that you seemed to admire so much, the peak of mood that made your heart ache for their longing for each other, was only there because you were there too. 

But with the thoughts clouding your mind, with the things that had happened in Christmas and with the self-loathing that you couldn’t shake no matter what you tried, no matter how many people called you brave, you were far from seeing the truth. Too wrapped up in your inner turmoil, in your own struggle to think of yourself as anything other than chaos, that you were far closer to worrying yourself to dеath with despair than from seeing the truth so clearly displayed behind the dull fabric of self-hatred you’d placed over yourself.

You thought you were so smart, and yet you were about to make a move more stupid than the King to C6 that had gotten Sirius straight into the checkmate Moony had been cornering him into the entire game.

The bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts, you turned your face towards the door and left the glass you had in your hand near the table where Remus and Sirius had been playing wizard’s chess. James had dozed off on the couch and rather than waking him up, you thought of attending the door yourself. 

Marlene was on the other side of the door, hair shorter than it had been before, and a huge smile on her face when you were the first thing she saw. She rushed to hug you. “I’m so happy to see you’re here,” she said with a sigh. “You know I’m on your side, right? Always.” 

“Have they been talking about me on the papers?” you asked, not wanting to hear the answer, but asking anyway.

“Your father talked to the press,” she breathed, “he said you… he said you ran away from home after your mother passed and he said he was looking for you and hoping you came back home soon. That’s what your mother would have wanted. It also sounded a bit like you had been partly to blame for the fire.” 

You held back a sad scoff. He wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true. Except he had omitted the fact he had tortured her, and forced you to find a distraction. “Of course, he would,” you sighed. “At least Dumbledore knows what actually happened.” 

“You– trust him?” 

“He might not have whatever happens to us in his best interest, Marlene. I know he cares about stopping them more than anything. But… we’re fighting for the same cause… and I think he cares, even if it’s just a little.” 

“The war…” 

You sighed and then shook your head, replacing the strained expression you had with a smile. “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re celebrating a new year and we’re not going to dwell on the sad stuff, now while we’re together.” 

Marlene seemed hesitant about your quick change, but upon realising it was your only way of coping, she nodded and mirrored your reaction. The moment she walked into the room she went straight to wake James up and told him off –jokingly– about being a terrible host and letting his guests do all the hosting for him. 

Poor James looked so confused the minute Marlene showed up that he stood up and got everyone snacks and something to drink. Slowly but surely the house started to fill up with your friends. Mary and Lily came together since Effie had gone to get them so they could all apparate back in the house, Tom arrived by Floo and Beth rode a broom since she didn’t leave too far from the Potters. 

It really was more of a small gathering than a party, only the close group of Gryffindors had been invited since James’ parents were still hesitant about the entire thing getting too big and accidentally ending up with dеatheaters at their doorstep. But it was perfect, nonetheless. Seeing your friends was lifting up your spirits. 

Lily had gone straight to hug you when she arrived and the boys wouldn’t stop teasing James about it, he was clever enough to retort Sirius’ comments by reminding him that you had once said you were into redheads and he was the one that should be worried. 

“If we start dating, you can just date each other,” Lily added to the joke to which James made the face of someone who was actually considering it and Sirius made one disgusted. 

“That would be like dating Regulus,” James said and got shoved by Sirius who said something about being more handsome than his brother. 

Still, you didn’t miss the way Sirius’ gaze flickered, looking for Remus who was talking to Mary in one of the corners. You took a deep breath after that and thought –stupidly– the only solution to the thoughts currently tormenting you, would be alcohol. You walked towards the improv drink section they had created and poured yourself some of the ice vodka James had snatched from Monty’s stash. He’d charmed the flask so he could fill an entire bottle inside and gave it to you when Lily asked him to dance. 

You debated on whether to add anything else and decided against it, although it tasted fantastic with Mellie’s lemon juice (you had tried it last night when the boys convinced you and Remus to play Monopoly again but this time wasted so they had a better chance of winning– Remus won anyway).  But you wanted the punch the drink would give you more than the taste. You downed the glass like a shot and served yourself another bit, this time actually adding the Lemon Juice. 

“How come you’re not all over Sirius?” Tom asked as he approached you. “He looks incredible today.” 

You huffed in response, taking another sip of your cup, and mumbling a short “I know.” The problem was, Remus knew too. You had seen him gaze at him more times than you could count. He had gazed at you too, the skirt you chose to wear not helping him with his rather active imagination, so instead he tried to look anywhere else. He did not want to be a perv, let alone be caught checking his best friend’s girlfriend out. 

“You okay?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking too much, I think.” 

“Want something to think less?” he asked as he took out a small flask from his front pocket. Not big enough for alcohol, but certainly big enough for a good potion. 

What a terrible idea that was. “What is it?” 

“New creation, been working on it over the break. Kind of like the potion at Halloween but with a few tweaks here and there.” 

“Is it good?” 

“Haven’t tried it yet… So, you want it?” 

You had a mission, you had to figure out what to do, not that you wanted to have that mission, and not that you wanted to figure it out either, every choice seemed like the wrong one, every turn and you’d hurt someone (yourself included). You were tired, you just wanted things to be like before… before you knew. 

Selfish, a small voice in your head shouted, that’s selfish.

“If you knew two people were in love, and you were in the middle of it. But these are two people who are basically made for each other, and they’ve known the other for longer than they’ve known you, would you step out of the way?” You asked him, eerily similar to what you’d asked James in the middle of the night. Perhaps more perspective could help you.

Tom pulled the flask back into his pocket and gave you a confused look. “What are you talking about?” 

“Nothing,” you lied, snapping out of it. “A book I was reading… The potion?” 

He placed his hand on his pocket, then on his back pockets. “Sorry, Slysprite, I must have misplaced it.” 

“I really could have used some of it,” you added with a laugh. And that was exactly why there was no way in hell Tom would give it to you, he was tempted to take the beverage from your hands as well, but he was half scared of what an angry you would do, so decided to leave that to someone who was way closer. 

“I think Remus is looking for you,” Tom said as he pushed you towards him and left you on the sofa next to the boy. “Mary, darling, care to dance?” 

She smiled and grabbed Tom’s hand, leaving you and Remus alone. Sirius was off playing potion pong with Marlene, although they hadn’t actually used any potions and were using booze instead. 

You let your head fall on the back of the sofa, sliding a few inches down and sighing. Remus leaned over your frame to give you a better look while ignoring your skirt and how much it had ridden up. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his tone. He grabbed the cup from your hands and brought it to his nose, smelling the contents before wincing. It was more vodka than lemon juice. “How many of these have you had so far?”

“Not that many,” you replied, which wasn’t a lie. “I’m not drunk.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said simply. “You’re… upset. Is it the party? You want to leave?” 

“No, not at all,” you said. “I love seeing everyone happy. Did you see Prongs and Lily? I’m pretty sure he strategically placed mistletoe all over the doors so he could steal as many kisses from her as possible. She seems as delighted as he is.” 

Then why do you look upset? Remus thought, not wanting to ask yet. 

“You sure?” he asked as he poked your cheek. 

You opened your eyes, first just a little and then you focused on him. He looked concerned, very concerned, you could tell he cared about you an insane amount. It made the guilt even stronger, here he was, so concerned over you and your pain while you were constantly causing him heartache. Both of them had to steer away from the other because of you. 

You smiled. “You know I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, right?” you said as you placed a hand on his cheek, brushing one of his scars with your thumb and holding him in place when he was taken aback by your words. 

“What?” 

“I want you to be happy too.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he took your hand from his cheek and held it in his, a frown etched on his beautiful features. Even now, you were causing him pain.

“Nothing,” you said. “I know… I know what’s making you so upset, I’ll stop that.” 

“What?!” Remus asked, a hint of panic in his voice that brought you back to reality, away from his hypnotising brown eyes and puppy-like gaze, you didn’t blame Sirius, you couldn’t blame him. In the same way, you couldn’t blame Remus. 

“Nothing,” you repeated, this time more dismissively than before, “I must have had too much to drink… you want some?” you added as you looked for the glass that was now on the table, took it in your hands and offered it to him. 

Remus frowned and took the glass from your hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Hmm?” you asked, turning back to him, Sirius had been looking at the both of you with interest. You would have to talk to him. “Yeah, totally. You know Tom made a new potion.” 

Remus sighed when he heard that. Now things made sense. You weren’t lying. You knew Remus could sometimes smell a lie of yours from miles away, so you decided to tell the truth. Tom had made a new potion, you never said you had drunk it. 

“I’ll get you some water,” Remus said as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. 

Sirius was already there, looking through James’ secret snack stash to find something salty, he was really craving something salty. “Is she okay?” he asked. 

“She drank something Tom made,” Remus said simply. “I think she’s okay, just saying some weird stuff.” 

“Like what?” Sirius quipped curiously.

“Some nonsense about making me happy,” Remus responded, he’d taken a glass from the cupboard and was now filling it on the sink. 

“Mhm?” Sirius asked as he pulled a bag of fizzing whizbees and turned to Remus. “Maybe she’s just thankful for everything that you’ve done for her lately, wants to make it up to you.” 

“There’s nothing to make up for,” Remus said simply and caught the small ball Sirius had thrown his way with his left. “What’s with this?”

“You look like you need some candy,” Sirius said as he took a step closer to Remus. “You’re kind of pale.” Sirius was now so close to Remus he could see the freckles that hid beneath his scars. “Maybe you should eat a bit more.” 

Remus took a step back. What was with you and Sirius? Both seemed to have this unworldly desire to touch him today, he could barely find a way to run away. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Remus said and plopped the fizzing whizbee on his mouth, he started floating shortly after. “Fucking hell.” It was more of an exasperated curse than anything else. 

Sirius laughed, reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him down. Ignoring entirely how well it felt to have Remus’ hand in his. “Didn’t think you’d eat it,” he said with a short shrug, still not letting go of Remus’ hand. 

“Maybe you should talk to her instead,” he said, turning back to the sofa, but you weren’t there anymore. He frowned.

“Care to share?” you asked. Remus turned to you with a mortified expression and snapped his hand away from Sirius, floating back up for a second, until he coughed a couple of times and went back down. 

Sirius looked at Remus diverted, and smiled even further when he handed the glass of water to Sirius and excused himself by saying he needed to go to the bathroom. You looked at Sirius, at the way his eyes trailed behind Remus before fixating on you. He had never looked at James like that. He had never looked at any of his other friends like that. In fact, you might dare say, the only person he had ever given than look, was you. 

He then walked towards you, there was a table in between the two, but he extended his hand with a small red ball towards you. 

We should talk, you thought as you took what he offered. 

Rather than taking the candy to your mouth, you placed it on the table and turned back to look at Sirius. He was as beautiful as always. Long lashes, stunning grey eyes, hair curling around his face in that angelic and yet somehow devilish look he had going on. 

His gaze was as lost on you as yours was on him, but while his thoughts were filled with you, yours were filled with suspicion of the feelings you knew he harboured for someone else. You rounded the table to walk right in front of him and took the glass of water from his hands before bringing it to your lips. You took a long and gentle sip before pulling it down again and looking at Sirius. 

“You like him, don’t you?” you said, voice steady, somehow steadier than you’d thought you’d manage.

“What!?” Sirius asked, confused. There was a hint of panic in his voice as if he knew he’d been found out but was trying to hide it anyway. 

“Remus,” you said simply, as if it were the most natural thing ever –it was.

You saw him tense, and you smiled, reassuringly in return. “It’s in your gaze, Sirius. You look at him the same way you looked at me when we met. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” 

He placed both hands on your arms, shaking you to look at him instead of the door. Desperate, Sirius was desperate. “But I don’t love you any less.” 

You smiled, a sad sort of smile that Sirius hated to see on your face. But he hated himself more for hurting you, for making you feel like you were not enough, for allowing you to see how desperate he was for love that even when he had it, he craved more of it.

“I’m sure you don’t,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek. He leaned into it instantly. Like he did all the time. Almost brushing his head onto your hand. There was a conflicted frown on his soft features, tears threatening to form. “Hey,” you said simply, he leaned his head onto your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have been better at hiding it, you must think I’m the worst person in the entire universe.” 

“Of course not,” you said as you scratched his scalp the way you knew would calm him. “You just fell in love.” 

“With my straight best friend,” he said. “Just…” he sniffed. “I’m sure I’ll get over it. It might just be my way of discovering I’m like you and Tom.” 

“Bisexual?” you offered. 

“Yes, that,” Sirius didn’t dare to say the word. “I’m sure Moony’s just an outlet, I can’t be in love with him, I love you.” 

You swallowed, he wasn’t making it any easier. You really didn’t want to do it, you hated the idea of losing him, but he deserved to be happy, they both did. “He’s not straight.”  

“What?” he asked. 

“He’s not straight,” you repeated. “Remus, he… he likes boys too.” 

Sirius pulled his head from your hand and looked at you with the most bewildered expression you had seen on him, “What?” 

“More specifically, he likes you.” 

“No,” he said as he shook his head. You nodded in response. “What about Alice?” 

“He started going out with her after Halloween, remember? What exactly were you doing on Halloween?” 

“I was dancing with you and–” it seemed like Sirius had seen things from the outside for the first time ever. “Merlin! He did it because I was– Because I was with you.” 

“And your sudden urge for kisses?” You added, your eyes were watery, you had to take deep breaths to hold the tears back, to stay calm. You’d analysed most of your interactions together by now, everything you remembered. Sirius had liked Remus for far longer than he’d even realised he had. 

“No, that wasn’t the reason. I wanted to kiss you.” 

“I’m certain you did,” you said with a smile. It was that same sad smile you had been prompting since the start of the conversation. 

“Look at me,” Sirius said as he shook your shoulders again. “I love you. I love you and you need to understand that. I’m not going to leave you for him. No matter how incredible he might be. No matter if he likes me. I love you.” 

And you knew he would. But it wouldn’t be worth it, it wouldn’t be fair for any of you. You’d told Remus you would do anything for him. He had saved your life, he had cared for you when you were hurt, and he would have gone to the ends of the earth to make you smile. How could you pay him back if you tied Sirius down to you? When you tied him down knowing he liked Remus too? 

“I know,” you said reassuringly. And you did, you never doubted Sirius’ love for you, it was just as undeniable as his love for Remus. Sirius had such a big heart, he could love and love and he deserved all the love, all of it. He deserved Remus’ love. And you weren’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy it if you were in the middle of it. You wanted him to be happy, you wanted both of them to be, even if it was in each other’s arms, and not in yours. 

Sirius pulled you into a kiss, desperate to show you how much he loved you. You kissed him back, but you were soft and tender in comparison to his desperate breaths. Sirius realised too late the kind of kiss you were giving him. 

“Don’t do that,” he said as he pulled away. 

You rubbed your thumb over his cheek. Sirius was terrified now. Terrified that the one thing he thought would happen if you found out would actually happen, that you would leave him. But in this case, you weren’t leaving him because you were mad, you didn’t even seem angry at all, it was more like you wanted to step out of the way. 

“Stop it,” he repeated, now petulantly, almost like a child. “Don’t be good, don’t be the hero. Be selfish! Be selfish, be selfish for me.” 

The more Sirius talked, the harder it was for you to continue. You wanted to be selfish, you wanted to keep him, but not at the expense of other’s pain, not at the expense of Remus’. Remus and Sirius needed love, and you could only make them both happy if you allowed them to give it to each other, or so you thought. 

Sirius leaned in to kiss you again but this time you moved your mouth out of the way, placing a soft kiss on his cheek instead. You could feel the wet hot tears dampen your lips as you kissed him. At first, you weren’t sure who they belonged to, but you had somehow managed to hold yours in this far. 

Sirius whispered your name as he gripped onto your shirt, bunching it up in a futile attempt to hold you. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this. I don’t want him, I will never want him. Please-” 

“If only we could choose our nature,” you sighed. “We said we wouldn’t lie to each other, remember?” 

“Please,” he pleaded, every muscle on his face turning into the most evident show of agony.

Sirius had never begged to a woman in his entire life, he was ready to go down on his knees and be as pathetic as he needed. Whatever means he had to do to convince you to stay. To not leave him for being so stupid. To not disappear again. You placed both of your hands over his, gently pushing them off your shirt, and pulling him into a hug. 

He relaxed as you dug your head into his neck and inhaled the delicious scent so particular of Sirius Black. And then you said it. “Go after him, Sirius.” 

He looked at you like you had betrayed him as you pulled apart. He tried to hold onto your arm but you were quicker to move it out of his grasp. Turning your back to him and walking towards the door. 

“I love you more. I will always love you more. It’s just a stupid crush, I’m sure it will–” he stopped. He didn’t believe that either, there was no way he’d trick you. You kept walking towards the door. “Please don’t leave me,” Sirius said, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

You staggered, the tears you had fought so hard to hold were now streaming down your face, you held back a sob. You didn’t want him to know you were crying too, you wanted to spare him the heartache. You thought of turning around, you thought of running to hug him and tell him things would be all right, telling him that it didn’t matter, that you’d find a solution that made everyone happy. But you knew you were lying to yourself. Remus wouldn’t be happy if you were with Sirius and Sirius wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t be with Remus either. It was best to step out of the way before it was too late. 

Before you wouldn’t be able to pull away even if you wanted to. You could barely do it now. 

You took a deep, trembling breath and then willed your mouth to still again before you spoke, “You won’t be alone, Sirius. Go and talk to him.” 

Sirius’ despair had now transformed to anger, he stalked your way and made you turn around in a harsh movement so uncharacteristic of him and the way he touched you all the time that you looked at him with shock.

“I’m not going to let you run away from this like you’ve been running away from your pain ever since Christmas!” 

The harsh truth. Spit into your face with the anguished face of the person that– probably the person that you loved the most. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, tilting your head, “I can’t help you.” 

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I will stop. I won’t look for you. Go ahead, I dare you.” 

Sirius had never been one to keep his temper cool, it was easy to get a rise out of him and you had often done it for fun. Never had it been real, never had you seen him so angry, so wrecked. You were doing this to him. 

Your lips trembled. You hated this, you hated causing so much pain to him. You were trying to make him happier, couldn’t he see? 

Of course, he couldn’t. Sirius would never fathom a life without you as a happy one. They were an antithesis to each other, and there was no way he’d ever be happy if you weren’t there. If you and Remus weren’t there. 

He wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t go to him if you didn’t do it. You bit your lip, gaze flickering. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Remus. He was talking to Lily, she was laughing and he had a smile on, but it wasn’t a real one, he was upset. 

Maybe because you and Sirius were in the kitchen together doing god knows what. Your quivering stilled, your choice had been made easy. You knew what you had to do, and while the pain that Sirius’ broken gaze gave you was unbearable, much worse than cruciatus, you knew, just like that time, why you had to take it and why you were willing to do it.

 “I don’t love you, Sirius,” you said, slow, carefully articulating every word, trying to spare them of the feelings you had stuck in your head, of the words desperate to come out: I do, I’m lying, don’t listen to me, I’m lying. “I stopped loving you the second I figured you had feelings for Remus.” 

“You’re lying,” Sirius said unconvinced, voice trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” you said tilting your head to the side. “You should talk to Remus, though.” 

You somehow managed to slip from his grasp and walked towards the stairs. You wiped your tears away, and you were so busy with your task that you didn’t see Remus as you bumped into him. He looked at you, concerned visible in his features the second he realised you had been crying. 

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

Yes, he deserved to be happy. You swallowed thickly. “Sirius was looking for you.” 

“What?” Remus asked, confused. 

“Go talk to him.” You added with a smile. “I’m okay, something got on my eye.” 

Remus seemed hesitant and then turned to look at the kitchen door. Sirius seemed as upset as you were. As sad and terrified as you looked. He turned to you again, as if trying to ensure he could go instead of staying with you. 

“But–” 

“I said: go.” The way the words echoed in your brain was disorienting. What was more, was the fact that Remus’ worried stance seemed to dissolve into oblivion as he turned around and walked towards Sirius. When you noticed his blank stare you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand when you realised what you had done. 

You couldn’t have, it was impossible. You didn’t have the ability you... Remus kept walking towards Sirius without so much of a glance back. 

You had used charmspeak on him

It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kiII you every time

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well that was something... I shed a couple of tears (many) while writing it, but you know what this means? The worst of the angst is about to pass and we're finally gonna have the fluflly fluff <3

Read more Marauders Fiction

[certainwill]

help me i am fixating on lambdadelta so bad and i don’t know what to do ;~;

[juniperarts]

I think you like pavitr.. Don't know tho, its just a theory after all.

Idk what has you thinking that.

Interesting theory tho 🤔

Curious to know why you think so

He's an ok character I guess

*looks at my icon for a split second* anyways-

Imma go draw (not Pavitr)

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 14: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should relax by spending his afternoon shopping ..

~

He trots down the mossy cobblestone walkway, gazing around in awe as he approaches the central hub of the small city. Tiny shops and stalls and carts are woven through the few clusters of taller buildings, with a modest crowd bustling back and forth between them. Despite much of the land being cleared for structures and pathways, it's still lush with greenery wherever it can be, every blank stone wall or street corner dotted with trailing vines and flowering fruit trees.

After spending a good 25 minutes trying to orient himself at the city map directory, he finally finds his way onto one of the primary shopping streets, eager to spend the afternoon lazily strolling about, trying to ignore his physical aches and just take in all the sights as he hunts for interesting items....

...A few hours (and multiple snack breaks) later, the streets begin to glow with a hazy warmth as lanterns are lit, marking the nearing sunset. Possibly because of the fight yesterday, he's felt shakier, more easily startled than usual, and suddenly realizes an urgent need to be safely inside his room at the inn before nightfall. He wanted to stay out longer, see the lights and the crowds, fascinating scenes of city nightlife he's never been exposed to before.. but, his nerves are impossible to ignore.

Begrudgingly preparing to slink off towards the inn in a sweaty anxious panic, he stops in the doorway, resolving to at LEAST buy himself ONE nice item before he leaves. He doesn't have much money, sure, but it'd be a shame to simply look around all day and not get anything. All travelers need to collect their souvenirs, right? But.. What should he get?

-

-

Additional Information (feel free to skip this part, it's just extra context for people who are interested lol)

just for record (in case it influences what people think he should buy), this is the adventurer's current inventory contents:

small journal + pencil to document his travels (and a few colored pencils for sketching plants or doodling)

a basic travel guide booklet

a simple map of the area

a small glass lantern case you can put candles in

fire starting materials

basic matches

first aid kid (a few bandages, simple antibacterial balm, some dried herbs that can be used for minor issues like stomach aches or nausea)

one metal cup, one metal bowl/plate thing, one metal fork/spoon, a cooking knife, and one metal pot for cooking over the fire

a basic toiletry bag (toothbrush, herbal mixture toothpaste type thing, bar of soap, one towel, a rag, a few disposable paper napkins, moisturizing oil, hair brush, a tiny cracked mirror)

three bottles of various spice mixes for flavoring the plain/bland food he usually forages on the road (+ plain salt)

a glass jar of berries

a container of plain dried oats

a container of dried beans

half a loaf of stale bread

one carrot he found

a bag of dried fruit

about 15 coins (maybe equivalent to $45 USD in our world money lol)

a basic fishing kit (simple lures, hooks, string)

two containers of canned fish just as a back up in case he ever can't find fresher food for the cat

a cheesy fairytale romance novel about people going on a grand heroic journey, to help give him inspiration to continue on his own travels and be the ultimate Super Cool Adventurer Hero

an old folded up letter from his family

a fabric pouch of cool shiny rocks + other trinkets he's collected

one change of underwear, one change of socks, + winter gloves

foldable saw

some twine/string

a basic sewing kit (2 needles, one spool of thread, a thimble)

lawyer's business card (from boat party)

lawyer's fancy expensive giant scarf (also from party)

1 lunchbox of vegetable dumplings (from Innkeeper)

2 canteens of water

a small dagger for cutting rope, vines, multipurpose anything

a little tin of mint & rose flavored candies for when his mouth gets dry

a box of cubed dried chicken as cat treats

a box of fancy tea

one large rope

a roll of fabrics (one thick blanket for padding when sleeping on the ground, some basic tent fabric to make shelter from, a few spare fabric scraps, 2 cloth napkin/towel things, two cloth sacks for extra carrying capacity if needed)

1 pouch of dried meat

5 candles

Innkeeper's hand-drawn map to her brother's hideout

and of course, the Mysterious Egg in a little wooden box

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[kishimotomasashi]

I'm really impressed by people who manage to try and figure out how to piece together the Naruto story and worldbuilding in a way that makes sense by including literally all Naruto media, meaning anime fillers, movies, databooks, novels etc. skfhkshfksbdjhdjs like that's already too much for me. My own approach to it has always been if it isn't in the manga and (tentatively) the databooks, I ignore it.

[bread-that-draws]

I grew up with exclusively country music and only knew of other songs via them appearing in kids movies. But I only know them by the kids movie and not by name. So I’ve just started referring to them by the movie. So yesterday I overheard that song from Megamind coming through my classmates speakers. And I was like hey man is that that song from Megamind it’s a real banger. And he looked at me like this

[chryzure-archive]

i also don’t know why it would occur in any regard, given that chrysi’s pretty ride-or-die with her boyfriends, but au where she and gil are separated and wren goes between both their houses.. i think he’d call jacks his evil stepmom while at gil’s place, and when gil’s like, “oh, i don’t like jacks either. i don’t know why chrysi’s dating him.” wren will look at him very seriously and says, “i like jacks. he’s my evil stepmom, but he’s very, very bad at it. he tried to drop me off in the middle of the woods, but he ended up getting lost, so i had to lead him out.” gil is in shock.

[rinhaler]

Not me being an absolute slut for step dad Gojo and Uncle Nanami!?!? 😩 sharing is caring!

-Very Much Embarrassed Anon🫂

PERHAPS i got carried away but i hope u enjoy this !! luxe write something under 1k challenge: impossible x

warnings: 18+ MDNI, step/incest, fem!reader, step dad!gojo, uncle!nanamin, implied virgin!reader, threesome, vaginal sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, tit sucking, possessive!gojo, daddy kink, praise, pull out method, orgasm denial, noncon photo taking, slight oral fixation, hair pulling, face fucking.

words: 2.7k

“You know you’re too young for boys, right?” your step-father reminds you, like it’s a mantra he’s told you again and again for years. It isn’t a suggestion or a thought he’s choosing to share. It’s an instruction. “I don’t want you to think because you’re all grown up and going to college now that you can be reckless.”

“I- I know, Satoru.” you smile at him.

Both of your attention is stolen as you hear your uncle, Kento, laugh out a scoff. He tries to conceal it as he ruffles his newspaper and drinks his coffee. You see your step-dad’s brows furrow in annoyance. Or, anger. He looks at you, again, and his expression softens.

“I know you’re a good girl, sweetheart.” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your form and placing a kiss atop your head. Nanami’s eyes peer over his newspaper, locking with yours. A knowing glance to each other before a smirk finds his features. He raises his newspaper, shielding his face completely as he tries to focus on reading.

He lets you go, reluctantly, as you pick up your college bag and grab your phone.

His expression sours as he sees you reach for your phone, smiling at a text message you received. He shouldn’t pry. He knows he shouldn’t pry. But he can’t seem to stop himself as he finds himself leaning across the kitchen island and snatching your phone from your hands. And now he scoffs, scrolling through your messages and looking at the name at the top.

“What did I just say?” he speaks, only an octave away from yelling at you. Your lip wobbles, and he keeps your phone at arm’s length as you try to grab for it. He tosses it towards the kitchen table so Kento can look for himself.

“He was just asking if I needed picking up for my classes, Satoru! You don’t need to worry…” you tell him. Of course this would happen. He’s always been stupidly over protective.

“Well you don’t, do you? That’s what I’m here for. Hell, I’m sure even Nanami would be happy to take you since he came all of this way to spend his off time visiting you.” Gojo reminds you. And you feel a slight pang of guilt at that. You know how hard your poor uncle Nanamin works. He could be on vacation, somewhere tropical, unwinding from the humdrum of his boring office job. But here he is, sitting reading the newspaper and listening to you two argue with each other. “In fact, you’re grounded. I’m keeping your phone and you can forget about going to class today.”

“But—!”

“Don’t whine, I’ll write you a note.” he adds, walking around the counterspace to collect your phone from Nanami. He finishes scrolling, locking it, though he keeps hold of it. “Go upstairs.”

You huff, but grab your bag and do as you’re told. It’s not like he can stop you from being online. You can talk to people on your laptop, after all. Though given the mood he’s in you suppose you’ll have to be stealthy about it.

“You’re too harsh on her.” Kento tells Satoru, earning another disgruntled glance from him. He closes his newspaper and rests an ankle over his knee as he leans back and drinks the remainder of his coffee. “She’s curious, you can’t do anything about that. It’s not like she’ll stay a virgin forever.”

“Tch. Spare me.” he laughs lightly. “You think I don’t know why you’re here? I hear you, you know, when you sneak into her room at night.”

And Gojo revels in how the colour drains from Nanami’s face. He sits upright, his back stiffened straight and he starts to loosen his tie. He should have known, really, it was too good to be true. He should have known he’d always get caught eventually. But by Satoru Gojo of all people?

“I haven’t…” he clears his throat. “It’s not what you think.”

“Sure.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “If I’m bein’ honest… I don’t really care. Who am I to stop you? I’m not blood… like you. Sick fuck.” he laughs, sitting down at the table and looking into Nanami’s panic-stricken eyes.

Your uncle rests his elbows on the table and holds his head in his hands. What is Gojo plotting? Blackmail of some kind, maybe. It’s not like he’s concealed his disapproval for his sisters relationship with him. He’s tolerated him, sure, but he’s a nuisance he thinks his family would be better off without.

“I don’t like this either.” he throws your phone towards the white-haired man and sighs. “But she doesn’t respect you, Satoru. She doesn’t even call you dad. I think she sees you as temporary, so of course she isn’t going to listen to you. Not really.”

“But…” he leans over the table with a smug grin. “She respects you, doesn’t she? Her favourite uncle. I don’t like college guys, I remember what we were like in college, I don’t want her around that.”

“No… maybe she won’t go searching for it if she’s better educated.”

Gojo’s brow quirks in intrigue, a sadistic smile soon follows.

“Who knew a corporate goon could be such a sick fuck, hah?” Gojo laughs, picking up Nanami’s coffee mug for him and walking it to the sink to clean. Nanami rolls his eyes, burying his reddening face in his newspaper again.

You feel a surge of fear stab through you as you hear footsteps climb up the stairs. You hide your laptop back into your bag and turn on your TV, hurrying to find something to watch as a cover. But when you hear a knock, you relax, Satoru never knocks.

“Come in!” you speak, happily, welcoming your favourite and only uncle Nanamin into your room. Though your heart sinks as your step-father follows, crossing your arms across your chest as you huff and pout petulantly.

“Don’t be like that…” Nanami speaks softly, sitting on the edge of your bed and resting his hand on your thigh. “We need to talk to you. And we want to ask you something.” he continues. Your pout fades, then, a slight feeling of anxiety creeps into you as you wonder if something serious has happened.

And Satoru sits on the edge of the bed, too, his beaming blue eyes almost pierce through your heart as he begins to explain. How he’s just worried about you because he knows from experience how college guys can be. How he’s your dad no matter what and he just wants the best for you. And he thinks you need a little help in the right direction on your journey of self-discovery.

“I know you’re a woman now, sweetheart, but you’re still daddy’s little girl. Yeah? So, let daddy help.”

“He- with what?” you blink at him, dumbly, and the delighted snarl on his face almost chills you to the bone. He doesn’t speak right away, so you look at Nanami. But it’s like he can’t bear to look at you as he sinks his head low with shame. “With what?” you ask again.

 “Well, Nanami said you’re curious. So he’s been fucking you, right?”

“No!” you and your uncle yell simultaneously. Did he really tell your insufferable step-father something so personal?

“I told you, I haven’t slept with her. Don’t tease her or you’ll make things worse.” Nanami clarifies before he focuses his attention on you. “But you are curious, aren’t you? You’re getting attention from boys and you’re enjoying it, clearly. They aren’t good for you though, princess. They don’t know how to treat girls right.”

You hum, softly, as he pushes your legs apart, revealing your pink cotton panties to the two of them as they continue to talk you through their thought process. And the touch of your uncle Nanamin is your ultimate weakness. They both get a live response to his action as your pretty pussy starts to gift your panties with a dark, sticky patch between your dewy folds.

“Boys that age, sweetheart, they don’t know what they’re doing. Do you touch yourself? ‘m sure you do, I’m not naïve enough to think otherwise. But that means you like to cum, yeah? These college guys don’t care about that. They just want a little hole to cum in and defile. And we think you deserve better than that.” Satoru explains, his inquisitive fingers begin to prod at your puffy cunt, though you trap his hand between your plush thighs.

“Satoru…” you respond, bashfully.

“No.” he speaks, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down the bed and towards himself. He looks mad, but there’s no real malice behind it. Still your heart is pounding. “I’m your dad like he is your uncle. I’m not Satoru. Who am I?” he asks, reaching under your skirt to pull down your panties.

“D-Daddy… you’re daddy. ‘m sorry.” you whimper. Your eyes flutter as his long fingers invade your pretty, virgin walls. “Hng—!”

“Gooood girl.” he smiles as he begins to curl them upwards. “I slipped right on in, has uncle Kento gotten you used to taking his fingers?”

“Mhmm…” you blush. The man in question bends down to kiss you.

It’s sweet, though you find yourself grabby and desperate as you follow his lead. He pulls away to undress you, unbuttoning your shirt and then his own after throwing away his tie. He helps you out of your bra, and you instinctively go to cover your nipples as you remember who you’re actually in the company of. But Nanami doesn’t want that. He locks his fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head as he begins to suckle on them until they’re both puckered and raw.

“Sit her up, and sit behind her.” Satoru tells his brother-in-law. And of course he acquiesces. You’re moved like you’re weightless as your uncle sits behind you, his clothed cock pressing angrily into the curve of your spine as he continues to torment your tits. Satoru pulls his fingers out of your cunt and sucks them clean, smiling at how your eyes begin to sparkle with wonder as he puts on such a display. “Do not tell your mother about this, understand?”

You nod, obediently. You wouldn’t dream of telling her something so scandalous. Though it does fill you with a slight sense of pride as your Satoru makes it abundantly clear how desperately he’d longed to be the first person to explore your untouched core. He pulls down his trousers and you moan at his smooth, pink cockhead. Though right now it’s closer to an angry shade of red.

He really is desperate.

You wince, slightly, as he pushes his tip inside. Though he retracts it, coating his head in your wetness.

“Fuuuuck, you weren’t lyin’. You really never fucked her, huh Nanami?” Gojo chuckles as he pushes in deeper and deeper. Nanami slots his fingers into your mouth to suck on as you accommodate to the length. “Relax, baby. Clampin’ so much you’re gonna push me out.” he laughs shallowly, his thrusts matching as he begins to work you open.

“D-Daddy!” you gasp, back arching against Nanami’s chest before he pulls you back towards him.

“We’re so proud of you, princess.” Nanami shushes you, placing a kiss to your temple. You look at him with wide, trusting eyes, though he can’t really concentrate as his own fixate on the way your tits bounce with each thrust Gojo inflicts onto you. “Why don’t you show your dad how I taught you to suck cock, hm?”

“Oh? Now that I’d like to see.” Gojo smiles, pulling out of you briefly. The sound of your sticky walls echoes through the room as he pulls out. The men help you onto all fours, and your daddy slots himself right back into your tight heat. The adjusted angle makes you fall forward, your head lolling as he finds a nice little trigger inside of you. “Oh… there, huh? Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you right there.” Satoru tells you as he begins to fuck into you before slowing down.

Nanami takes his cock out of his briefs, tapping the tip against your swollen lips. They open, obediently, and you lick the precum he’s spilling directly from the source. Your hole flutters as he hisses, enamoured by the sensation.

“Perfect, princess. Such a good little girl for me.” Kento comments, and your heart beats harder. You’re almost robbed of all sense as Gojo pistons his hips into you, and he leans forward to grab your hair and wrap it into a makeshift ponytail.

“Now that I’m thinking about it, Kento, maybe we should teach her how college boys fuck. Since she wanted that experience so badly.” Satoru proposes, and Nanami considers it. He really considers it. And Gojo chuckles at that. “Go on… show her.”

Nanami nods, grabbing the sides of your head and fucking your face like you’re his own personal cocksleeve.

It’s relentless and dizzying and you don’t know how to settle. You can’t possibly as you’re ruined from both ends. There’s no reprieve, there’s no way to relax. You’re trembling and moaning and fuck you never knew sex could be so intense. Nanami is always calm and patient with you. But this isn’t that.

They’ve ran out of patience with you.

It doesn’t matter which way you try to retreat, you’re only encouraging the other one. More of Nanami’s cock down your throat and more of Gojo’s hitting your g-spot.

“W-We’ll have to get you on the pill, sweetheart.” Gojo tells you, but it’s more like he’s telling himself. He knows he can’t cum inside. He can’t, but fuck, he wants to. He fucking needs to. “College guys, they like- leaving their- mark.” he thrusts again and again until he’s on the very brink of blowing his load. But his life won’t be worth living if he knocks his cute little daughter up. His marriage will be over. He’ll lose everything.

And with that, he pulls out and coats your pussy lips with his sperm. The loss of feeling from inside makes you cry out around Nanami’s length, though you still can’t pull away from him as he continues to use your mouth as his own personal toy. You never knew your uncle Nanamin had this side to him.

He’s usually so sweet and patient.

He pulls out, too, depriving you of the taste of his cum and the chance to prove what a good girl you are. Though you take his load beautifully as he shoots soupy ropes across your pretty face. His heart skips a beat as your false lashes flutter and he realises a heavy glob stuck to them.

“College guys, sweetheart, might take pictures of you like this.” Satoru pulls his phone from his back pocket and takes a few photos of your quivering cunt. You’ve been neglected in the worst way, and it’s dawning on you now what he had meant by giving you the college experience. He tosses his phone to Nanami, encouraging him to do the same. Your innocent and betrayed face is captured so perfectly through the lens of the phone, Nanami’s pearly seed is the perfect colour for your complexion.

“College guys would send these around to their friends too, you know.” Nanami warns you.

“But we’ll just keep these between ourselves.” Satoru promises you. “I think it’s only fair we didn’t let you cum this time since you were so intent on disobeying your daddy.”

“I think she’s learnt her lesson, though, Satoru.” Nanami speaks, pulling your hair so that you can look up at him and he can identify if you dare to lie to him. “Fucking college boys doesn’t sound that fun anymore, does it? Say sorry, princess. Your dad might let you cum next time if you’re a good girl.”

You sniff, and hiccup, unsure of where to look.

“’m s-sorry, daddy.” you sniffle, Nanami releases your hair and allows you to look back at Gojo, a wild grin on his face.

“Awe… sweet.” Gojo smiles, circling the bed so he’s standing beside Nanami, both of their eyes bore down at you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “I think we’re owed a thank you, we took the time to teach you such an important lesson, after all.”

“T-Thank you,” you sniff, again, “Thank you, d-daddy. Thank you, uncle Nanamin.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

sometimes i torture myself by intentionally reading thru stupidly rude/unnecessary comments on random instagram posts. why do i do this to myself

[dcangel]

kinda hyper-fixated on riding stiles and calling him a big boy at the same time.

because this man boy would sit there underneath you, bottom teeth scraping at his upper lip as he tries to contain his pretty whimpers that kept escaping him. his fingers gripping, digging into the pudgy fluff of your hips and thighs. “y’so tight.”

your nails scratched at his v-line, deep red lines being left by pretty maroon nails—his favorite colors. “jus’so fucking big, sti…” you breathed out, “such a big boy, hmm?”

“mm-mhm.” he whines softly. stiles couldn’t believe how turned on he was by her dirty words, by how much he wanted to please her. who knew such an innocent, doe-eyed girl could spew such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.

you couldn’t help it, with the way he was stretching your walls and pressing those oh so good spots inside you that your own fingers couldn’t reach, how were you supposed to maintain that ingenuousness?

his nails burrowed into your soft skin, leaving little crescent shapes. his eyes were glued to where he disappeared inside you with each bounce and thrust. the wet squelching noises were squalid, and most times he couldn’t hear much else. only when his view was obstructed by your face did his pull his eyes up to meet yours. you flattened yourself against him; your stomach on his, and your breasts resting on his chest. to stiles, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was worth more than words. it was the only thing that could bring him back to this planet after you overworked him.

you smiled when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes of his finally connecting with yours. “there we go.”

stiles was overwhelmed; you were on top of him, giving him so many sensations, so many things to touch or relish in. he couldn’t choose. you leaned down to darken the fading hickey right at the base of his neck, having given him one in that spot a few days ago. you simply didn’t see a point in letting it fade. he might as well have gotten it tattooed if he wasn’t so afraid of needles.

a deep-purple mark bloomed right over the spotty red one, and you made sure he would still be able to hide it with his flannels for a few days. your thumb wiped the spit from the bruised skin so you could get a full view of your work. stiles knew he’d be admiring the mark in every mirror he passed by, thankful that it was only one tug of a shirt collar away.

your hips rocked against his, not even pulling up anymore. you just loved the way his tip grazed your cervix—like scratching an itch only he could get—and how your swollen clit ground against his lower abdomen.

“you’re so perfect,” his words came from a place deep in his mind, so breathy, so pussydrunk, “i love you.”

knowing stiles didn’t even care for a response in return, not that he’d even be aware of one, you kissed his swollen lips (both his and your doing) to bring him back down to earth, even if only for a few seconds. you thumbed over the plush skin, purely admiring your boy, feeling both proud of and admirable of his prevailing state.

“you’re so good, sti.” the words weren’t really meant as a praise for him. rather, you said it because you genuinely meant it. “my big boy. fillin’ me up so well.”

you swore you saw something behind his eyes malfunction. his cock twitched inside you as he grasped at your hips, unintentionally taking control for just a few seconds so he could move you back and forth, his dick slapping against your spongy walls. your fingers pressed into his shoulders as you clung around him like a vice.

stiles was whimpering desperately and hastily, each one interrupting the next. it was so refreshing that stiles wasn’t afraid to let those sound freely flow from his pretty mouth or be loud for you. he didn’t care if his noises weren’t deep and guttural, although they certainly could be at times. and you favored either or depending on who was taking care of who; his whiny whimpers and soft moans coming out when he was desperate and being especially needy, or his low, throaty groans and praises when he needed to show you how much he loved you.

“i—shit,” he whimpered, high pitched and needy like you adored. “f-fuck,” stiles groaned deeply. it was so broken up, his voice so cracked, so desperate that it sounded like he was pleading. not pleading for a release, but pleading for forgiveness. you quickly felt his reason for pleading spill inside you: warm and thick.

“sorry, sorry, m’sorry.” stiles’ breaths were reduced ragged gasps as he clutched your waist, his arms finding their home around your body. “love you so much.”

you bit your lip at the gushing feeling flooding your already-filled hole. “hmnn, stiles.” you felt him bury his face in your neck, sweaty skin on sweaty skin as he murmured apologies and compliments of how good you feel.

it was moments like these that softened your heart even through such intimacy; moments where he came without warning or any signs, where his forehead nestled perfectly in the curve at the base of your neck, where he was reduced to muffled, strangled whines and sometimes apologies if he could muster them. and all because of a few words—of course with the help of being inside you, but you were sure you could probably just make him come with your words alone.

somewhere along the way of your cunt throbbing in time with his milked cock, and slowly lifting your hips only to drop them back down lazily, you found your own sweet release. stiles was slightly overworked, slightly overstimulated, but this was such a perfect sight in your eyes.

you took a peek down at where the two of you connected, and a thin, white-ish ring was formed at the base of his length. each time you lifted yourself up, strings of milky white liquid kept another physical attachment with him. the build up was definitely worth it in its own way, but the release was divine. as always, though. stiles, even when he may not be completely all there in the moment, always knew how to send you hurdling toward what you swear is the best orgasm each time. he’s definitely fought you before for who had the better orgasm, ending in round twos all the way to round fives. how you two managed to make it that far was a damn mystery as well as a miracle.

but right now, you were only focused on your boy—your pretty boy, and the alluring noises seeping from those pink, kiss-bitten lips. “’love you more, pretty boy.” you halfheartedly chaffed.

his response was the reason for the returning gibes: a small muffled whine of some muddled words. and stiles never failed to live up to any nicknames or unserious expectations you tauntingly gave him.

[nicksbestie]

Next Level - M. Sturniolo

Summary : the one where you just want your boyfriend to get off of his game, and he makes you a deal.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, pet names (baby)

Word Count : 3017

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : idfk blame someone else for this

You were potentially the most bored that you had ever been in your entire life.

Yes, you were being incredibly dramatic, but your boyfriend had ceased giving you attention and hanging out with you in favor of playing round after round on whatever video game of the day was pulled up on his monitor. It was so frustrating, and you were a clingy person, so that just made it worse. You had come over to spend time with your boyfriend, not to just watch him focus on something else. You had tried playing with him, losing multiple games, winning a couple, before you had gotten bored and moved to relax on his bed. You’d been quiet and patient up until about now, because you didn’t want to bother him, and you did love seeing him do things that he enjoyed, but you were starting to get annoyed. 

You abandoned his room in favor of going down to the kitchen to get something to drink, finding Chris and Nick sitting on the couch, some show playing in the background, and Nick was swiping through Snapchat stories on his phone. They already knew you were there, having spent time with both of them when you had arrived a few hours prior to now. You sat down with them both, opening the lemonade you had stolen from their fridge. You didn’t speak, also on your phone for a couple of minutes before Chris looked up, nudging Nick to get his attention.

“Do you think Matt will drive us somewhere? I want to go get a slurpee.” 

You laughed, responding before Nick could.

“He’s fixated on his stupid video game, I doubt he’ll want to go anywhere.”

“Is that why you’re down here and not up there with him?” 

You nodded, continuing to scroll through social media while the two brothers decided if they wanted to ask Matt or not. Finally, Nick turned to you.

“Can you go ask? He’s more likely to say yes to you than to us, and now that Chris has mentioned it, I want to get one too.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes, but got up to go upstairs to ask him anyways, knowing more than likely your boyfriend would say no. Walking back into his room, Matt glanced up at you, looking back to his screen after acknowledging who had come into the room.

“Nick and Chris want to go get slurpees, they wanted to know if you would drive them.”

Matt shook his head, eyes never leaving the monitor, fingers never pausing their movements on his controller.

“Nah, I don’t want to go. Tell them to order an Uber or something.”

You sighed, sitting back down on Matt’s bed to text those words to Chris and Nick, not feeling like walking up and down the steps again for such a short message. After reading Nick’s response of a rolling eyes emoji, you threw your body back and laid down, exhaling deeply, waiting on Matt to pay you even a sliver of attention. You were tempted to leave, go get slurpees with the two other brothers, but at the same time, you really did love and miss your boyfriend. About fifteen minutes went by, and Chris texted you to let you know that they were leaving, asking if you were both sure that you didn’t want to come, and you replied saying that no, you two would stay here.

You only let about another five minutes go by before you waved a hand in front of Matt’s face, refusing to let him ignore you any longer. He pulled his headset halfway off, to where one ear was exposed, so that he could hear you.

“What’s up, baby?” 

You sighed, slightly pouting.

“You’ve been on that game forever, and you’ve been ignoring me.” 

Matt gave you a soft smile, standing up to kiss you before sitting back down. 

“Just let me get through one more level, and I’ll turn it off for the day.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning around to go sit back down.

“Sure you will.” 

He caught your wrist as you tried to move away from his desk, turning you back towards him.

“Hey, watch the attitude.”

He kissed the back of your hand, smiling at you.

“You’ve been waiting a while, I know. Nick and Chris have already left, right?” 

You nodded, confused at what his brother’s presence, or lack thereof, had to do with your current situation.

“Okay. So let me get through this next level, and I’ll go down on you until you cry. Deal?”

You couldn’t say that the suggestion that came out of Matt’s mouth didn’t affect you. It had been a little while since you and him had done anything, conflicts with filming and work, traveling, and when you were free, people were home. So sure, maybe part of your boredom and attitude was due to pent up desire, but who could blame you? There was only so much relief you could get on your own, and nothing compared to Matt’s skills. Matt noticed how your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks flushed, and an arrogant smirk crossed his lips. One of his favorite things was to go down on you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt the same about it. 

“I figured you would like that offer. Just this last level, okay?” 

You swallowed, nodding, pulling your arm from his grip and going back to laying on his bed. You picked up your phone, trying to appear unaffected, but Matt knew you better than that. He could see you in the reflection of the dark screen on the second monitor, and he could see you shifting how your legs were laying every so often, trying to ignore how the thoughts he had planted in your head were affecting you. He loved how easily he could work you up, something he had often taken advantage of, and he smiled to himself at how suddenly you had developed so much patience. 

Matt intentionally lost the level multiple times in a row, wanting to see just how far he could push your patience. He knew that you wouldn’t push him back, so he wanted to see just how needy he could get you to be. So he continued to lose, to set himself back, to find any way to make his promise take longer. He was enjoying watching you grow desperate way more than he should have, noticing you look up at him and his screen pretty much every thirty seconds to see if he had completed the level yet. The thought of what he was going to do to you was making him struggle to focus on the game, so he decided to stop intentionally losing and not make you wait for him any longer. This level wasn’t difficult, and it wasn’t long before he completed it, turning off his screens and removing the headset in favor of setting it on the desk. 

Turning around and getting out of the chair, Matt abandoned his desk, laying down with you and taking your phone out of your hand. You let him, both of you knowing that you hadn’t really been paying attention to it anyways. Excited to finally have your boyfriend’s full attention, you pulled him in for a kiss, it starting off gentle and sweet. He broke the kiss after a couple of seconds, smiling at you and used his hand on the side of your cheek and jaw to guide you into another one. There wasn’t any effort on your side to gain dominance of the kiss, Matt easily controlled it, deepening it and swallowing any sounds that left your lips, smiling against your mouth when you both paused to breathe. 

“I think I have a promise to make good on, don’t I?” 

You nodded, gasping quietly when Matt moved his kisses down to directly under your jawline, teeth gently tugging on the skin, enough to leave marks on you, but not enough for those marks to last longer than a day. The hand that had previously been on the side of your face was tangled in the back of your hair, gently pulling on it, moving your head to give him more access. It wasn’t long before he was hovering over you and had left a trail of blooming marks under your jaw and on your neck. Small whimpers were leaving your lips, and he kissed you, full of passion, enjoying the way you reacted to his movements. One of his hands gently caressed your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” 

You didn’t respond verbally, simply removing your hands from his hair and face to tug your shirt off, allowing him to help you. Matt’s hands immediately moved up to unclasp your bra, getting it off as quickly as possible, before moving to lay kisses down your torso. It seemed like he was somehow touching you everywhere at once, which you logically knew wasn’t true because he only had two hands, but you swore you could feel him on all parts of your skin. He moved a hand up to roll your nipple between two of his fingers, smirking at the loud whimper you let out, before moving his other hand down to the band of your sweatpants, silently asking for your permission for him to take them off. You lifted your hips, whispering your consent, sounds still leaving your lips because he hadn’t paused his ministrations, his mouth attaching to your other nipple, the attention on them both causing you to whine. 

He only stopped the movements of his hands to remove your sweatpants from your legs, but he didn’t move downwards. He moved back up to kiss you again, both of his hands holding the sides of your face. Using his leg to spread yours, he swallowed the loud moan that left your lips, as the shifting of his body had caused his knee to press directly against where you needed him most. He smiled against your lips, loving how vocal you were, increasing the pressure slowly until he felt you shift your hips downward to meet his leg. He removed his knee, hearing your whine of disappointment, moving his body down between your legs, using his hands to spread them this time, from where you had clenched your thighs around his knee. 

“Patience, baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

He left kisses and hickeys on your inner thighs, so close that you could feel his breath over your panties. When he was satisfied with the marks that he had left on your legs, he gently pulled them off of your legs, kissing even closer, smiling at the way that you pushed your hips closer to him. He took one arm and laid it over top of your hips, holding you down.

“Matt, stop fucking teasing.” 

He shook his head at the attitude in your voice, but he knew you wouldn’t be giving it to him for long. He kissed right above your clit before giving in, his tongue beginning to form small circles on it, and he could have cum on the spot when he heard the shaky breath that left you at the feeling of relief after having to wait so long. He alternated the amount of pressure he was using, before pulling off completely and moving to lick a stripe from your entrance back up to your clit, loving the way that your thighs clenched around his head. He pushed them back open before attaching his lips to your clit, gently sucking, causing your hands to tug harshly on his hair as you let out moans and whimpers. He tried to remove his face from between your legs, but you pushed him impossibly closer, and instead of fighting you, he simply formed tight figure eight motions with his tongue on your clit.

By this point you were so wet, and Matt’s mouth and chin were covered in the evidence of your arousal. He always ate you out like he was starving, and it was always messy, but you never complained. How could you, when it gave you some of the best orgasms you’d ever have? You could feel it starting to build in the pit of your stomach, and it only became more intense when Matt ran two fingers through the wetness between your legs before easily pushing them into you, expertly curling them. He knew your body like the back of his own hand, so not only did he know that you could take two at once, he knew exactly where to move and where to press to have you squirming. 

His ministrations were confident, and you were predictable, your head immediately going back the second that his fingers curled perfectly, him only being able to see the white of your eyes while his tongue and fingers caused your thighs to shake around his head, your climax building quickly, and Matt could tell, just from the noises you were making and the way you were clenching around his fingers. He pulled his mouth off, increasing the speed of his fingers, kissing you roughly before speaking.

“Doing so good for me, baby.” 

“Matt, fuck, please-” 

He placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight circles with a firm amount of pressure, adoring the way that your back arched now that you were no longer being held down.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He replaced his thumb with his mouth, the suction sending you off into space. He could hear your moans getting higher in pitch, and your thighs were clamping around his head. Your hips were bucking against his face, your eyes screwed shut as his free hand reached up and applied pressure to your lower stomach, and that was it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, jaw hanging open in a loud whine, Matt not stopping any of his movements as he pleasured you through your high. He stopped when your breathing began to stagger roughly, kissing you sweetly as you panted against his lips. He kissed you until you calmed down, until your chest stopped heaving, and then he ran his hand back down and gently drew slow circles on your clit, kissing your forehead as you whined and tried to bat his hand away. 

“I can’t, too much.” 

He just gave you a pitying smile, not moving his hand. If anything, he picked up his pace, listening to you whimper against his neck.

“Oh, but I promised you’d be crying, baby. I have to make good on that, don’t I?” 

You couldn’t formulate a response, just a low whine leaving you as he added more pressure. 

“You can give me one more.” 

And with those words, he went back to having his head between your thighs, his fingers on his free hand gently tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs. You were so sensitive, not ever having been one for overstimulation, but the incredible pleasure that rolled through your body overwhelmed every small spark of pain, causing you to not want Matt to stop after all. Being so sensitive, you were so much more reactive, and when Matt pulled the same move of curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud sob, and you could feel another orgasm beginning to build. It was much quicker than the last one, but with Matt absolutely assaulting your clit, and his fingers roughly massaging that perfect spot inside of you, you knew you would never be able to hold it off. 

The oversensitivity caused tears to build in your eyes, and you got to the point of desperation that you were attempting to ride Matt’s face, hands tightened in his hair again, keeping him pushed up against you, chanting his name like a prayer as you tipped over the edge for a second time that night. Matt did the same thing that he did the first time, working you through your orgasm, and it was the added stimulation paired with the unbelievable high you were already on that caused tears to stream down your face, eventually pushing Matt away from you when it got to the point that you couldn’t handle it anymore. He knew when it was too much for you, and he pulled off, the fingers that had just brought you to your finish now in his own mouth, and if you could go again, you would have at just the sight. 

It didn’t take Matt long to pull you into his arms, wiping the remnants of tears off of your face. He didn’t move you too much, but he helped you drink out of the bottle of water that had been on his nightstand. You laid there, still slightly out of breath, enjoying the close company of your boyfriend and the gentle kisses he was pressing on the top of your head. It wasn’t until Matt adjusted his body slightly against you that you realized he was still hard.

“You didn’t-.”

He didn’t even humor the statement, cutting you off by just shaking his head and holding you against his chest.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got my full attention, baby. I’m fine.” 

The soft aftercare that Matt always gave you was top tier, complete with food, a warm bath, and endless cuddles. He always spent a lot of time making sure that you were completely taken care of and felt okay before he even thought about himself. Checking Matt’s phone, you noticed a text from Chris that had come in thirty minutes ago, letting you know that they had decided to stop at another store before coming home. Neither of you replied, but you both assumed that meant you didn’t have much more alone time left. So Matt helped you back into clothes, knowing that you were tired, and you ended up dressed in an entire outfit of his.  The two of you weren’t even awake when they got back, falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s presence.

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[familyvideostevie]

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 

You’ve only been open for two hours. 

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 

Your coffee shop. 

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired. 

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 

You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him? 

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

__

Joel stops by again. 

And again. 

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying. 

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 

“I’m honored,” he says. 

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash. 

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 

He smirks. “Miss me?” 

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags. 

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.” 

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 

They both wave at you as they drive away. 

__

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted. 

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

__

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 

And you still barely know him. But you want to. 

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says. 

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.” 

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says. 

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe. 

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[cozage]

Coza!! Congrats on your 2K followers. 🥳🎉🥂

I like your smuts and I’m having a hard time choosing what scenarios to request!! I’m so excited for this event you have no idea. May I request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy+ Sanji+ Zoro+ Law+ Eustass Kid + Killer to you reading smuts/hentai please? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi :) I wasn't able to do everyone, but I did a few! Minors…OUT! go on! Get! Scram! Also I won’t lie Zoro’s is based loosely off of the funniest comic I’ve seen in my life that stays living rent free in my head Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law Cw: smut and suggestive, NO MINORS ALLOWED ON THIS POST PLS GO AWAY Total word count: 900

Scandalous Reading

Luffy

Luffy’s head rested on your shoulder, his eyes lazily skimming the page that you were reading. 

“Woah!” Luffy grabbed the book out of your hand and put it up to his face to get a better view of the words. “I didn’t even know this was possible!”

“Luffy!” You reached for the book, but he held it just out of your reach, still reading. 

“I didn’t even think about trying-”

“Luffy! Give it back!”

His wide eyes peered over the pages, but he refused to hand it back to you. “Do you like this stuff?”

“I mean-I don’t-I just-” Your face turned beet red at the implication. “It’s just written really well!”

He gave you a mischievous grin and took off back toward his room, book in tow. “Come on!” he called. “I want to see if it really can work this way!”

Oh, you were in for a rough night.

Sanji

“My love, did you-” Sanji stopped, his eyes fixated on the book cover you were reading.

“Sanji?” you prompted, trying to get his attention.

“I know that author,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Where do I know that-”

“You probably don’t!” You slammed your book shut and shoved it behind your back. “What did you need?”

“Oh! Right! Would you like gelato or ice cream?”

“Surprise me!” you said, trying to get his mind off the book. “I’m sure whatever you make will be amazing!”

Sanji was in the kitchen when he finally placed it, and he almost collapsed from the realization of what he had caught you reading.

He brought you out the finest gelato he had ever made and set it down next to you. “So, my love,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “How is your book?”

“It’s good,” you said. You set it down to grab your gelato, and Sanji lunged for it. 

He skimmed the pages, confirming his suspicion, and tried his hardest not to pass out from the filth his eyes found. “You’re reading book porn!” he whispered sharply. “You always get on me for staring at-”

“That’s not the same,” you hissed. “These aren’t real people! It’s different!”

“It is not!”

“What am I supposed to do!?” you snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re busy in the kitchen, I have to entertain myself somehow during the day!”

Oh, that was a bad way of wording things, because the second the words were out, Sanji’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you want to do something like this? Because I would love nothing more than to treat you like the royalty I know you are.”

Zoro

“What are you reading?” Zoro asked, looking at your book cover. 

“A book.” You tilted the book slightly to shield him from seeing any of the words.

“What’s it about?” He seemed strangely interested in the cover. “Swordmaking?”

Oh right, there was a sword on the front cover of the book. No wonder he was so interested in it. 

“It’s called Swords and Snakes. It’s a book about…royalty, love, and betrayal.”

He scrunched his face in disgust and went back to resting his eyes. “Not really my kind of book.”

You grinned. "No, I don't think it is." You set your book down and stood up. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go get a snack.”

“Riceballs.”

You nodded and went to the kitchen to grab food. What you hadn’t been expecting was returning to Zoro staring wide-eyed at the page you had dog-earred. 

He looked up at you in amusement, smirking at your anxious body language. “You weren’t joking about love and betrayal.”

“That’s mine!”

“More like love-making and betrayal,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they wrote books like this. I didn’t know you would read books like this.”

“Well to be fair-” you snatched the book from his hands. “I didn’t know you could read at all!”

“Don’t be too bratty now,” he teased. “Or I’ll give you the same treatment that knight gave the princess.”

Law

You had only left your book laying on the bedside table for a minute while you ran to the bathroom. But damn that Trafalgar Law, he was so nosey. 

“Quite the fantasy world you read about,” he hummed as you walked back into the room.

“What do you-” your words died in your throat, seeing him flip through the pages. “Oh, that.” You gave a nervous laugh, striding back over to your bed. 

“Yes, this.” He slapped the book shut, peering up at you with such a predatory and lustful look that you almost took a step backward. 

“I just picked it up at the last bookstore we went to,” you lied. “I don’t even know what it’s about.”

“Right,” he said, clearly not believing you. 

He handed the book back to you, and you quickly grabbed it. “Thanks,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Sure.” He stood to take his leave, heading back to the lab. He stopped on his way out, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

“If you ever want to make it a reality, all you have to do is ask.”

[tojisun]

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/738535284282638336/a-tentative-hc-of-bimboreaders-insta-acc bimboReader is a penguin lover?! I can picture her calling ‘Simmy’ in tears when she learns that penguins give pebbles as courting gifts 🥰

she is into penguins!! it’s her current fixation, on top of butterfly migration cycles (and selfcare routines – this one is sups important because it’s also meant to give simon a moment of reprieve; just the two of them enjoying a quiet relaxing skincare sesh <33)!! and ahshdhe this made me giggle sm oh this is so adorable and silly, i fear!!!

bimbo!reader mlist <3 // divider by @/plutism ^3^

simon’s focus is splintered at the first chimes of his phone, the sound ringing within the small war room and taking the attention of his squad. his captain trails off into silence, shooting a bewildered look towards simon – it’s not like simon can blame him, after all, this might be the first time he’s actually brought his phone with him during a briefing.

“what…” johnny murmurs but simon ignores him, still planting his focus to his CO as he tilts his head in silent question. john sighs before shooting simon a short nod, giving him his permission. simon turns to leave before john’s even done nodding, his quiet footsteps drowned out by the sound of john dismissing them for the day.

simon doesn’t even need to guess who’s calling him, after all, it’s only your number he’s saved in his work phone. it’s only you who can reach him when he’s out of the city. usually, though, you wouldn’t call him at this time, choosing, instead, to send series of texts about your day or sending over pictures of mittens or anything that could have caught your fancy. so receiving a call from you worries him, the ball of anxiety in his stomach ever-so expanding until he’s all choked up.

he’s barely made it to his room when simon accepts your call, your name falling from his lips with a breathless whisper.

the answering sniffle on your end does nothing to calm him down, the worry simmering underneath his veins spiking up higher. lashing out angrier.

“shh, sweetpea,” simon murmurs, hoping he could do more than just to comfort you over a call. “c’mon, lovie. talk to me, yeah? tell me how i can help.”

“oh, it’s just,” you mumble wetly. “pebbles.”

“…pebbles?”

“mhmm,” he hears you say. “simmy, penguins give out pebbles or rocks as courting gifts!” he hears you sniffle again. “history channel said so.”

“animal planet, sweets,” simon replies automatically before he pauses, blinking.

oh.

“oh, love,” simon wheezes out, the breath coming back to him, feeling his body finally uncoil from the tension that he was carrying. he sags down to his bed and presses the back of his palm on his temple as a chuckle rasps out from his lips. “but y’r doin’ alright?”

“hmm? oh, yes,” you say, sounding less heartbroken and simon wonders if it was because your attention’s been snagged, once again, by the animal planet channel – simon could hear the familiar british narrator droning on in the background.

simon lets out a fond chuckle. “‘lright then.” he licks the back of his teeth. “tell me more about their courting style?”

he hears you gasp before a rapid fire of information is chirped to his ears, the beautiful drawl of your voice chasing away the last remnants of the worry that had choked him up.

you tell him how the documentary was upfront in saying that scientific explanation for the phenomena has yet to be fully explored, so the documentary had honoured, instead, the longstanding theory of female penguins accepting rocks as courting gifts because it shows that the male penguin knows how he can take care of their eggs. “rocks keep the eggs and their nests afloat!”

simon hums and ohh’s and ahh’s at the appropriate times, posing questions that steered the conversation to the right track when you began to mumble distractedly. simon listens in earnest because he may not really care much about penguins but he cares a lot about you. he cares about learning your interests; cares about cultivating his own because whatever his girl wants, simon promises he will learn for her.

and with the way your voice lilts in joy, well, simon knows he’s done the right thing.

(simon returns from their mission with two rocks in his person – one is a polished pebble which he painstakingly looked for when he went down to the beach. the squad insisted on coming with him although the fuckers were not of any help – not like he would’ve accepted it anyway – as they chose to just sit by the local ice cream shop and watched as simon prowled towards the shore in the middle of winter; the one he found was a beautiful hazel colour, mixed greens and browns and even a touch of blues making up the surface of the rock.

the second one he brought with him was a diamond ring.)

this is so silly i love them bad :((

tagging: @honestlyhiswife @ghostsbimbo @kenz-ee @ivymarquis @yannauauau @yaebaal @liwooa @kariiiel @loonalockley @hawsx3 @durkakakayata @littlecellist

[evilminji]

As I played No Man's Sky... It HIT Me.

My third eye is opened and I have reached a stage of enlightenment that's leaving me GIDDY. Holy fuckin shit.

Danny own SPACE GAMES~☆🎇✨️🌠

"Yeah, obviously?" you say, a little confused.

But stop an THINK about it. He can go INTO games! Doomed is a glitchy, limited, online mmo. Not some single player triple A. There are Space Simulators.

Sandbox games where you explore the galaxy.

Literally NOTHING stopping HIM from becoming a game developer. Hiring tech ghosts. Alien ghosts. Alien TECH ghosts. And producing an underground hit.

Sitting in the virtual, on an alien planet, in his space suit and just... listening to the wind. The pattern of toxic rain against the habitat.

The sense of PEACE he must feel? Just turn on creative mode or pick a peaceful sandbox game and just? Get to work. Terraform a planet. Built a settlement. Farm in a habitat on Mars. Slip into some VR game and just? Hang out on the orbital space station.

I can't even put it into words? How emotional I am kinda getting? Just imagining him step through a screen and onto alien grass. Just a big old peaceful field of alien flora, beneath an alien sky. No responsibilities. Just Space.

Getting to explore the cosmos and still come home. Not having to choose between Amity and the stars. Making some little habitat with knickknacks and a bunk, that he can just go hang out in. Listen to the sounds of an alien world. Sleep in a far off galaxy and be home for breakfast.

God he would GLOW. His joy would overflow.

The only thing I'd honestly worry about is his Obsession and the Fenton Family Fixation Tendency kicking in. Getting addicted to serene, seretonin-producing Fantasy, over stressful, anxiety-producing Reality. It would be understandable. And something to look out for.

Because it wouldn't even be insidious or malicious action. Just the nature of "this one is calming and feels nice" vs "this one is stressful" would do it. Who WOULD want to leave? But... you gotta balance. Because you aren't just ghost. You can't just wrap yourself in Space like a safety blanket. No matter HOW soothing and awesome it is.

But good God is he gonna have SO much practice for his eventual lair. Bet his virtual Bases are IMMACULATE.

@hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter