#but I promise to be much better from here on out

[shy-writer-999]

It's getting hot in here...

Summary: After a nice meal, you start to feel weird. Did you eat something funny? It turns out everyone is feeling the same, and there's only one thing to do about it. Read content warnings please!

CW: Lots of nasty sex. Afab reader, G/N language. Aphrodisiacs. TONS of zosan gay shit (like 50% of this fic). Could be considered dubcon because the aphrodisiacs are strong and reader keeps losing touch with reality, but it is consensual >_> Voyerusim, dacryphilia, begging, dry humping, edging, masturbation, "good boy," riding, prone bone, you name it. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS (VERY) NSFW CONTENT.

Something was in the water at the new island the Sunny anchored on. Or was it in the wine? The bread? The butter? You couldn’t remember what you ate. Your memory of the night was blurred���scattered scenes played through your mind the next day. Your recollection was… messy and nonsensical. You tried to recount the night.

In the early hours of the night in question, Sanji went into the island’s town to get supplies and ingredients for dinner. It was a nice day full of free time, clear skies with a slight breeze.

Nami and Robin went shopping and they wouldn’t be back on the ship in time for dinner. Brook, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky went off and did god knows what. Similarly, they wouldn’t be back in time for the evening meal. Sanji promised to make enough so they could have leftovers later.

When everyone went on their separate outings, that left you, Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji on the ship.

It was a small, simple, and delicious dinner that night. An intimate setting with just you four, a nice opportunity to hang out with part of the East Blue crew. You were soaking in some modicum of silence and peace (whenever Luffy allowed it) on the mostly empty ship.

Aside from Luffy’s chomping and smacking noises while he ate, dinner was relatively silent. Sanji and Zoro weren’t butting heads for once, either. You sat at the table, talked sparingly, and drank some of the wine that Sanji bought in town.

When dinner was over, you helped Sanji wash up (like usual), then you sat at the dinner table and did some reading.

An hour or so passed. You read your book while Sanji prepped food and cleaned the kitchen a few feet away. Gradually, the room got warmer. You opened a window, letting in some of the cool evening air, propped a door open, and sat back down again.

After a few minutes, you noticed that you felt a bit ill. Lightly perspiring, you almost shivered—your limbs felt heavy, you felt light-headed. You tried to reason it away. Did you have too much wine?

No, you didn’t. You stood up, and as you rose to your feet you realized that you felt like you were going to pass out. At the same time, your body started to buzz. You had never felt like this before. Something was seriously off.

Sanji was still in the kitchen cleaning up, and you staggered in his direction, stopping at the sink to splash some water on your face. The cold water felt great on your hot cheeks, and you could have sworn you saw steam rise up from where the cool droplets met your skin.

“My love, are you alright?” Sanji’s sweet voice shocked you out of your feverish stupor. You had almost forgotten he was there. When you turned to face him, your body pulsed and heat tingled outwards from between your legs, radiating to your whole body. He had never looked so good before.

The blonde’s eyes widened in shock—your pupils were dilated, your breathing was shallow and quick, and your face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brought a hand to your forehead and confirmed that you had a fever. “Are you sick, dearest? You don’t look well.”

When his skin touched yours, your breath hitched. “Sanji, I don’t feel too good.”

“Do you need to go lay down? I’ll get Chopper to come take your temperature and give you something to help you feel better, okay?”

You didn’t know it, but Sanji was starting to feel ill, too. He was sweating just barely and had, up until that point, been blaming it on the fact that he just cooked and cleaned and was a bit exhausted. But what was more concerning to him was that in your feverish state you looked even more beautiful than usual—no, beautiful wasn’t the right word. In his mind he remarked that you looked fucking hot. Stunning. Sexy, even.

He could rip your clothes off here and now and ravage you, had you been up for it. But that sentiment wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, rather, it was that you were evidently sick, and he was starting to feel a bit woozy himself.

Maybe the food had turned, and he didn’t realize it, so you were both suffering from food poisoning. But that would have been very unlike him to not pick up on the food tasting rotten. It must have been something else. Did you both pick up some virus from the last island you were on? Like Nami on Little Garden that one time?

A soft whine slipped out of your lips. The noise made his stomach flip. You sounded like you were in pain but… you also sounded a bit erotic to him. In this state, his mind raced. Is that what you would sound like in bed? Whining like that?

Sanji mentally berated himself more than ever before, letting self-disgust wash over for a moment before he shook it off. When he got back to his senses (he had been staring at you for only a couple of seconds), he started to guide you to your cabin for some rest. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you to bed.”

But no matter how many internal curses he threw at himself, he felt a tent forming in his pants. Something weird was happening.

He balked at the idea that seeing you in your current state was getting him so flustered. You were ill, after all. What sort of gentleman would he be right now, if he was thirsting over you while you had a dangerously high fever and were obviously in pain?

As he tried to shrug off how odd he was starting to feel, the blonde chef guided you down the hallway and towards your room. You walked behind him and your vision started to get splotchy. With every degree your fever worsened, you felt something get more intense—was this feeling arousal? At a time like this?  

Sure enough, heat bloomed between your legs; small zaps of pleasure radiated

outwards with each step. The arousal-sickness combination was disorienting and concerning.

And not only were you just aroused, but it was coupled with wild sensitivity—as you moved, the fabric of your pants brushed down there, sending an electric shock up your spine as the tingling sensation intensified. Were you hallucinating, or was wetness seeping out of your core, saturating your panties?

The walk down the hallway felt like years.

By the time you were almost to your bed, you were soaking wet from nothing other than walking. You tried to squeeze your legs together. Was there a stain on your pants from how unreasonably wet you were? Should you hide it? The fabric of your pants was rubbing you just right, and, in the moment you sat on the bed, you convulsed in pleasure. Undeniably, you moaned. A quiet one, but a moan, no less.

You sat there for a few seconds, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as you positively buzzed in pleasure. You didn’t know what was happening, and you were unaware that you were slowly rubbing your thighs together, drawing out more tingles of pleasure. Was that an orgasm?

Sanji’s mind was racing, and he was hyperaware of everything—every shallow breath and flutter of your eyes was making his heart patter and the tent in his pants grow. He was fully erect now, and his mind was so scrambled that he didn’t even think of hiding it. He almost couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

It was from this point on that you started to question if any of this was real or if you were just having a fever dream.

Sanji stood over you, watching in what could be called a mixture of concern and rabid desire. Your eyes opened finally, and it felt like you had tunnel vision. You noticed it then—his erection, hard and big. There was a visible stain on his bulge where precum pooled into the fabric. His cock twitched when he realized your eyes were focused on it.

“A-are you okay?” Sanji asked. He didn’t know what to say. He needed to drag himself away to a bathroom and deal with this.

His words got caught in his throat as your body literally worked against your own whims. Your fingers moved like they were being controlled by a puppeteer—you watched them in third person as they trailed down your abdomen and came to rest over your throbbing core.

Looking up at him, you gave yourself a squeeze through your pants. Some erotic sound tumbled from your lips. Your fingers started to circle over the fabric of your pants where your clit must have been, and you spread your thighs a bit. You couldn’t control yourself.

“Help, Sanji,” you whispered, mouth dry. “Don’t know what’s happening. Can’t stop.” Your fingers moved faster, building a crescendo of pleasure that would crash onto you soon. You felt like you were going crazy with need. No longer focused on the fever wracking your body, your mind knew only one thing: you needed pleasure.

If you didn’t get more soon, you were worried you’d pass out. Or something would happen. Would you go crazy?

“H-help?” Sanji’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“Touch me,” you whimpered, fingers moving faster now. His jaw dropped.

Luffy suddenly staggered to the door and leaned on the frame. He was unbothered by the sight in front of him and, quite frankly, he looked a damn mess. His hair was plastered down on his forehead in sweat, he had no shirt on, and his pajama pants were riding down, showing the band of his boxers.

“Guys,” Luffy’s voice was strained. “I feel really weird.”

Your eyes darted down. Luffy was rock hard, bulge standing out against the gray fabric of his pants. His cloudy vision came to rest on your chest. With no care in the world, one of his hands reached down to start rubbing himself.

“It won’t go away no matter what I do,” Luffy rubbed the heel of his hand down the outline of his erection, and his words were broken by a loud grunt. “I came here to ask for help but it—it looks like you beat me to it.” He cracked a grimace/smile and threw his head back after a moment, leaning his whole weight on the door frame as he touched himself through the fabric.

You snuck a hand into your pants. Brushing your clit gently, you keened. You were on autopilot, incapable of controlling your actions and not the most cognizant. All you knew was you needed more, and if you didn’t get more, something bad would happen.

“Mmmphhhh,” Luffy stifled a groan as he squeezed himself, lost in his own world. “It’s like my body is on fire.”

Your vision went black around the edges—you started to rub faster, spreading your legs open wide and creeping your fingers under your panties.

Burying your hand in your underwear, you hissed in air at your teeth as your fingertips came in contact with your hot folds. Your back arched and a needy sound trickled out. “F-fuck, Sanji help me.”

Sanji froze, eyes glued on your hand that was shoved down your pants, stirring under the fabric. The stain on his pants got bigger and wetter—it was very noticeable.  

“What do you want me to do love?” He asked in a hushed, hesitant tone. He was holding onto his last shreds of reason, trying not to pounce on you, but those shreds of rationality were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Your vision started to go black. You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that you pulled from yourself in a daze. Sanji reached a hand up to your core and ran a thumb up and down over the fabric above your clit. Your wetness was seeping through the layers already.

Some amount of time passed. You came and it helped you regain lucidity. When you opened your eyes—you had no clue how long it had been—you were laying on the bed and Luffy stood over you, watching intently.

Sanji was sitting at the end of the bed, now shamelessly digging his thumb into the tip of his cock, playing with his slit as clear precum seeped out of it. His hips bucked upwards a few times and you watched. You realized that you were touching yourself, moving your fingers in swift and messy need.

Luffy leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. The first few kisses were surprisingly sweet, loving, even, but they quickly turned sloppy. He maneuvered onto the bed—now, his knee was pressed against your core, a hand braced on one side of your head, and the other rested on your cheek as he kissed you passionately.

You made out for a few seconds, grinding down onto his knee a bit, aiming for friction. Your mewls were driving him and Sanji insane—the blonde continued to tease himself and stroke slowly while he watched Luffy take in every inch of you with his lips. The captain’s lips moved south.

He pulled your pants and panties off quickly, spread your thighs wide, and started to eat you out on the spot. Pressing his tongue on your clit, the captain drew soft circles around your sensitive bud, then he swiped his tongue up and down along your entrance. Luffy wasted no time slurping and greedily licking every inch and crevice of you that he could.

You started to lose touch with reality again—you realized, distantly and in third person, that whatever was wrong with you seemed like you would start to black out any time you went too long without an orgasm. As you were making this conclusion, a loud thud at the door distracted you once again.

Zoro’s body had dragged him across the ship, bringing him to your room of its own accord. He could hardly walk, slamming into the door frame, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed next to Sanji, eyes darting between Luffy eating you out and the blonde’s fist stroking and squeezed his hard on.

Your eyes shifted to Zoro, sitting with his legs spread wide on the bed next to Sanji. The swordsman started running a palm over his clothed erection. His breaths were fast, his cheeks were bright pink, he didn’t seem fully cognizant of the fact his eyes were glued on his nemesis/frenemy’s fist pumping over his cock. No one said a word for a few moments. It was a silent agreement—whatever was happening needed to be addressed, and there was only one thing to do.

It had been too long without an orgasm again for you. Your vision went black and your mind went blank. When an orgasm finally crashed into you, minutes later, it brought you back to reality and a few moments of lucidity. Your ears were greeted by a cacophony of ragged breaths and deep groans to your left.

Turning your head, your eyes were met with the sight of two people (who you thought utterly hated each other) entangled on the bed.

Sanji was completely naked, while Zoro had on short, tight, black boxer-briefs. He was on top of Sanji, rubbing and humping his own erection on Sanji’s while his brows furrowed and needy sounds trickled out of his mouth. Every few seconds, Sanji let out a whimper and arched his back off the bed.

“Don’t stop,” Sanji gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as Zoro’s muscles rippled and his clothed cock brushed onto Sanji’s aching, red one.

“I f-fucking can’t,” the swordsman grunted in response, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Your eyes stayed glued on the pair, bewildered and feral, until Luffy’s tongue, buried inside of you, demanded your attention. Was he using his devil fruit powers? Head had never felt this good before. His tongue prodded the pulsing hotness of your core, sliding up and down greedily between your lips before pushing inside of you again.

The slurping noises from your captain were sinful. Your eyes crept from his head buried between your legs to the sight of his hips rutting on the sheets beneath. His cock craved friction. He wished his tongue wasn’t buried in you but something else instead.

Grabbing tufts of Luffy’s hair, you dragged his mouth closer, pressing his roaming tongue as deep as physically possible.

“L-luffy, need m-more. Please.” You begged, vision getting blurry around the edges. You felt hotter than before.

Instead of your captain’s voice in response, a loud moan from Sanji answered your pleading. Your eyes snapped to the pair of men again—Sanji was squirming under the swordsman, shuddering and clawing at Zoro’s biceps now as he grinded up into his cock.

“Cumming,” the blonde grunted, pushing his hips upward, grinding harder onto Zoro. “I’m c-cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The chef came on his own stomach while Zoro rocked his hips into the blonde’s shaft with more urgency, overstimulating him and eliciting desperate cries.

“Can’t stop,” Zoro choked out amidst his own moans and heaves for air. You were speechless. You had never witnessed this level of pure desire before.

Tears pricked in the corner of the chef’s eyes, but he didn’t tell the swordsman to stop, in fact, he rutted his hips up again and again. He was gearing up for yet another orgasm when Zoro brought him into a kiss and trailed his fingers towards the blonde’s erection.

More moments fleeted by—more gut-wrenching pleasure from Luffy’s tongue inside of you, hazy images of Sanji and Zoro grinding on each other, smearing the milky puddle of cum all over Sanji’s abdomen on Zoro’s underwear and abs.

Your eyes fixated on the outline of Zoro’s erection through the damp fabric. You were mesmerized.

Time faded into oblivion. The next memory you had was of Zoro flipping you over, onto your stomach, and climbing on top of you. He positioned you in prone bone, pressing his chest on your back. Trailing his fingers down and squeezing a rough handful of your ass, he then dipped two fingers into your hot folds and coaxed fireworks of pleasure from you.

Zoro relished how wet and ready you were for him thanks to Luffy’s previous work. He played with you for a little while, dragging his finger pads across your g-spot repeatedly and curling them upwards inside of you until you begged for more. When he pushed his cock inside, he felt so big that it was almost painful. He entered you centimeters at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and the ring of hair around the base of his cock met your flesh, his hips started to pump into yours rhythmically, gaining speed each moment that passed.

“Feels hot and s-sticky inside,” he gasped, hips shuddering into you as his tip passed your g-spot. You shifted under him the slightest bit, drawing a sensitive gasp from the swordsman. Every movement from him felt euphoric—and coupled with his weight on top of you, you felt like you were doing crazy with desire. He couldn’t fuck you fast enough.

Turning your head, you realized that Sanji had one hand wrapped around his cock again but was now in a similar position to you. He was flush with the bed, chest pressing on the covers, simultaneously stroking himself and humping the sheets as he watched Zoro fuck you.

Zoro groaned pure filth in your ear. “Just like that, baby. Fuhccckkk. Feels so good.”

Each pass of Zoro’s length inside of you and past your g-spot was met with a squelching noise from how wet you were—every roll of his hips pushed him deeper inside of you and it felt like you were floating.

As Sanji watched, his fist moved faster and so did his hips. He roughly jerked his length and rubbed his glistening tip into the covers. His cock felt hot, it was pulsing, and each brush of his flesh against the fabric made him shiver. He was working off of animal instinct alone, eyes so dilated and mind so foggy that all he knew was that he felt good and he didn’t want it to stop. He could watch the pair of you for hours. He didn’t care.

Voice husky and bathed in lust, Zoro was getting more worked up. “Say my name,” he groaned as his length passed in and out of you. “Say it.”

Before his name could exit your lips, Sanji moaned into the sheets below. “Zoro. Zoro. Hah, fuck, Zoro.” Moments later, you watched him orgasm all over the sheets below, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.

Hearing the chef’s desperate, pathetic mewls made Zoro fuck you faster. The tip of his cock bullied your g-spot repeatedly. And just when you thought you were at the precipice of orgasm, Zoro reached a hand under you and started to rub your clit, then he bit your shoulder. The pain felt good, and the combination of sensations was overwhelming—your orgasm was intense, shocking, and ecstatic.

A fleeting thought passed through your mind—where’s Luffy?

He was perched at the end of the bed, touching himself to the sight, waiting for his turn, which he promptly took when Zoro was done with you.

The next scene in your memory was Luffy fucking you, but you weren’t quite sure how you got there. You did remember that right before Luffy touched you, he asked you softly, “Do you want to keep going? Or have you had enough?”

You croaked out an eager, “more.”

“On top?” Luffy asked, waiting for your confirmation. And when you again agreed, he shifted, so he was laying on the bed, and you were on top of him.

Sinking down on his cock, you started to ride him. His hands came to rest on your hips and his eyes looked hungry. As if he wasn’t full from the ridiculously huge meal he just ate.

Parallel to you and Luffy, Zoro had Sanji on his lap. Zoro’s chest pressed on Sanji’s back, so the chef was facing you and Luffy. The swordsman’s large, rough hand wrapped around Sanji’s front. Languidly, Zoro played with Sanji’s shaft, teasing him at a snail’s pace.

Zoro wasn’t all there mentally because of (what you deduced to be) the aphrodisiacs. It’s like he was running on pure thirst. Something in him wanted Sanji to beg and wanted to see you getting off to the sight. He was getting a kick out of the cook being absolutely pathetic. He wanted to see him be utterly shameless.

“’m gonna cum,” Sanji whimpered, writhing around on the stocky pair of hair thighs underneath him.

“Shhh. Not yet, cook. Can’t you hold on for a little bit longer? Don’t you want to watch?”

Sanji got quieter and nodded, holding his orgasm at bay as best he could while he watched you ride Luffy, who was practically growling out commands faster than you could keep up.

 “Faster.” “Faster.” “Harder.” “More.” Every time he spoke, you did as he said. You did so until your legs started to burn, until your thighs started to shake, until he was doing all the work for you, lifting you up and down on his shaft.

He pressed his tip on your spongey hot spot and wrenched pleasure from you. Zoro edged and teased Sanji within an inch of his life while the pair of them watched—it was almost cruel. The cook was in tears over how good it felt, how badly he wanted to keep cumming, and how much it was getting to his head.

“Please Z-zoro, fuck, please.” Sanji was close to his breaking point.

“Just a bit longer, curly brows, hold on.”

A few more seconds passed. It didn’t take long for Luffy to bring you to the brink of orgasm, which was what Zoro was hoping for. As you started to shake, eyes rolling back in white-hot pleasure from your orgasm, Zoro finally gave Sanji permission to cum.

You hadn’t expected the swordsman to be this controlling, this mean, and this verbal.

“Mmmphhhh. Just like that,” Zoro exhaled while he watched you cum all over Luffy’s cock. “Now you can cum.” He then murmured something in Sanji’s ear that would have left you gob smacked if you had enough wherewithal to think. “There’s a good boy.”

While Sanji painted his own stomach white, you collapsed on top of Luffy. He kissed the side of your head and started to pet your hair.

“You need a break?” He asked you, voice tender and kinder than usual. You nodded and then drifted into unconsciousness for some period of time.

Memories after this point completely faded to black. You had some notion of waking up and sucking Zoro off and then riding Sanji until he cried again, but… the images were blurred. Someone came on your face, two indiscernible figures in your memory were entangled on the sheets again, but… you drew a blank after a point.

---

When you finally came to, you concluded that whatever the fuck that was must have been a very strong aphrodisiac. You couldn’t figure out what it was in though—the wine? The water? Something in the food? Whatever it was, it must have gotten out of your system through sheer number of orgasms and hours of fucking.

You were still on your bed, under the covers and tucked in along with Luffy. Sanji and Zoro were off somewhere, presumably getting cleaned up but…? Who knows. 

You checked the clock—it was around 10:00PM. You, Sanji, Luffy, and Zoro had been going at it since 5:00PM, shortly after your early dinner. So… almost five whole hours? But you didn’t feel like it, really. You weren’t sore or anything which was a feat in itself.

Putting some clothes on, you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were parched. You’d have to wait to debrief until you saw Zoro or Sanji, or until Luffy woke up.

You walked into the kitchen and were met with a sight that broke your brain for a second. Nami, Robin, Franky and Usopp were at the dinner table, chowing down on the dinner leftovers Sanji packaged up for them in cute little serving boxes. They must have just gotten back from their outings.

Your eyes flashed around the room—wine bottles were open. They were having a grand old time.

Your stomach sank. Fuck. They were about to have even grander of a time if they kept eating and drinking like that. You’d have to sit yourself out for round two—not sure you could handle it, honestly.

After that night, you came to a good understanding of the dynamics with each man in bed. Not only from your memory, but because you went in for seconds with each of them at some point. Luffy was greedy and forthcoming, but kind, like usual. Zoro was an absolute machine, filthy and verbose. And Sanji was, well, Sanji. He was doting, pathetic, and desperate. What a good variety to choose from—you were never left wanting again.

ik im gonna look back at this later and go GOD DAMN woman, were you okay? frothing at the mouth. anyway...

thanks for reading!! this was pretty challenging for me, i wanted it to be halfway decent but just couldn't get it anywhere i wanted really T-T idk if i'll ever live up to the luffy aphrodisiac kinktober fic i wrote :p

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll taglist @eggrollforyou !

[14dayswithyou]

Some long-term followers may have noticed this subtle shift already (especially those who are in the 14DWY Discord server or have read this post), but I figured I'd make it official.

I'm no longer associating myself with the yandere VN community.

The TLDR is that the energy here really fuckin SUCKS!! And I don't want to be part of something so hostile and needlessly competitive.

The constant infighting and epicaricacy between communities is deeply upsetting, and it's very disheartening to see aspiring developers cancel their projects because of the unwarranted backlash and harassment they face.

Some entitled folks on here reeeeally need to understand that constantly harassing others for updates, encouraging developers to belittle others to make themselves/their project look better, complaining about a project not meeting the expectations you specifically put in place, attacking other communities because of the parasocial relationship you share with another developer, getting mad that you chose to ignore important PSAs or warnings and faced the repercussions, or even sending in hate messages on anon because you're bored are not things you should be doing — let alone be proud of.

I try to avoid bringing up these topics as it's not the vibe I want to have on this blog (nor do I want to negatively contribute to the Streisand Effect and blow things out of proportion), but I'm genuinely getting tired of being on the receiving end of all this harassment and negativity, seeing it happen to others, and watching other indie developers encourage such vile behaviour. I'm done.

For those wondering what this means for "14 Days With You": for the most part, everything will still continue like usual. I've said this from the very beginning, but 14DWY is just a passion project I pursue whenever I feel like it. It's something I do for fun as a hobby — not because I want to publish a well-known game or turn it into a career. I've been on Tumblr for over thirteen years now, and it's taught me how to grow thick skin, so everything that I'm yapping and yammering about won't stop me from working on 14DWY.

However, this does mean that I won't be as interactive with other developers or their communities anymore; many ill-natured people have ruined this for me.

Because of them, I'm no longer able to voice my opinion on other games without some opinionated rat whispering in my ear about how the developer is "problematic" or that I could get cancelled for simply following them on Twitter. I can't interact with certain games without its parasocial community becoming hostile or gatekeepy towards anyone they don't like. I've seen communities belittle and devalue promising demos because in their eyes, nothing can compare to their favourite game (or their favourite developer). I have been harassed, bullied, and doxxed by other communities and have seen the same thing happen to others as well. I've heard about the developers who weaponise their community's loyalty to attack and drive out their competition. And I've witnessed more than enough developers expressing how badly they want to take a hiatus due to how much unwarranted negativity they receive, but don't want to disappoint their community by doing so.

By saying all of this, you can understand why I dislike being here so much, as well as why I no longer find any enjoyment in interacting with the yandere VN community.

Many people here — fans and developers alike — are so needlessly pushy about their standards and personal opinions being the norm, and if anyone else goes against them, they'll purposefully try to ostracise and bully them out of the community. This place isn't as laid-back or inclusive as it used to be, and I don't want to be associated with a community that acts so hostile and aggressive towards anyone who shares a differing opinion — nor do I want to be part of a space that caters towards developers who'll tear down others in order to have a moment of relevancy.

We're all doing our own thing and making our own games; it shouldn't be a competition. But if you see it as such, then I urge you to take a moment to stop and rethink your actions — or, at the very least, understand how it's affecting you and others around you.

So until there's a reasonable change and people can go back to being less... demanding, hypercritical, and gatekeepy about who interacts with what, I'll be stepping away and continuing to stay in my own bubble, as I have for the past two years now. I've already unfollowed everyone associated with the yandere community many months ago, but I think I'll just unfollow everyone entirely now for my own peace of mind. I will also no longer be interacting with any yandere VN communities (aside from close friends), nor will I be as public with my interests from this moment on. Everything on this blog will be strictly related to 14DWY like usual, and I will continue to block and report any spiteful "anons"/burner accounts sent my way and delete their messages.

Again, this isn't really much of an announcement — it's more so just paragraphs of me bitchin and moanin 🫶 — but I wanted to get this all out there instead of leaving things unsaid and having people come to their own conclusions as to why I've suddenly become less active, less optimistic, and why I've stopped engaging with a majority of the yandere community in the last two years.

So, yeah... ^^; If there's anything I want y'all to take away from this entire post, it's to be kind, open, and understanding towards everyone — developers and communities alike — and to spread support rather than negativity. It's what I want my own community to be known for, so please be mindful of how you treat others online.

And if you find yourself being surrounded by constant toxicity and negativity (be it from friends, mutuals, or even other developers or communities), please don't feel ashamed to step away or cut them off entirely. Put yourself and your mental health first. I also think it'll be good for me to leave all this negative energy behind and continue to kick off 2025 in a better light, so if y'all need to let out any frustrations of your own, feel free to go ham in the replies (obviously, be kind and civil though jghsjg T_T)

[v6quewrlds]

Joe comforting you after a bad day or week? Just cuddly, clingy, hype man Joe that would do literally anything to make you feel better.

imagine venting to joe.

The evening sun threw a warm glow through the blinds, casting slanted shadows across the living room floor. Feeling the weight of the day's troubles, you tossed your phone onto the couch and sighed.

You craved quiet, darkness, and the solace of your own thoughts. Slipping out of your work clothes, you stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to cascade down your body, hoping it would wash away the day's tension. The steam filled the bathroom, creating a cocoon around you, a brief respite from the outside world. Your eyes closed as you let the water run over your face, imagining each drop carrying away a piece of your stress.

Once clean and in your favorite oversized t-shirt and the baggiest sweatpants you could find, you made your way to the bedroom. The bed looked like heaven, an inviting oasis of comfort that promised relief from the pounding in your head. You slid beneath the cool sheets, your eyes drifting shut as you reached out for Joe's side of the bed, feeling the emptiness where he should have been.

Joe, typically the first one home, was unusually late tonight. Your thoughts swirled with worry as you lay in the quiet emptiness of your shared space. Your phone remained silent, no texts or calls from Joe to explain his delay. Normally, you would be annoyed at the lack of communication, but today you were too drained to bother.

The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional tick of the clock on the bedside table. Your eyes grew heavy with each passing minute, and you drifted in and out of a light doze, your body craving the deep sleep that eluded you.

It was the sound of the garage door rumbling open that jolted you out of your half-sleep. The thump of Joe's footsteps grew louder as he entered the house, a mix of relief and anxiety washing over you. You didn't realize how much you needed to hear his voice, to feel his presence. The bedroom door creaked slightly as he peeked in, his eyes searching for you in the dimly lit room.

"Babe?" he called out softly, noticing the mound of blankets where you lay. "You okay?"

Your voice was muffled by the fabric as you responded, "No, not really."

Joe's concern grew as he saw your outline under the blankets. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on your back. "What happened today? You didn't text me that you got home," he said, his voice filled with a quiet concern that made your heart ache.

You shifted, rolling onto your back, and pulled the blankets down to reveal your face. "Just a bad week," you whispered, your eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion. "I had to fire Maya today."

Joe's eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned in closer. "Maya? Why?"

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling beneath the blankets. "It was the numbers. She's been making too many mistakes, and it's setting us back." You paused, your voice thick with emotion. "But she's been with me since the beginning. She was like family."

Your eyes searched his, finding solace in the blue depths as he nodded for you to continue. "And my migraines," you continued, your voice cracking slightly. "They're getting worse. I can't think straight."

Joe's face fell. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have picked up dinner, or at least come home earlier."

"I didn't want to bother you." Your voice was small, almost apologetic. "I know you have enough on your plate. And with the game on Sunday, I just…"

Your words trailed off as Joe shook his head. "You could never bother me," he murmured, his hand tugging a stray braid back into your silk scarf. "If you're feeling like shit, I want to know. That's what I'm here for."

You nodded slowly, exhaling a shaky breath.

Joe's expression softened even further. "I'll grab you some water and something for the pain. Be right back."

He disappeared into the hallway, the sound of his footsteps retreating briefly before returning with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. You propped yourself up on your elbows and took the offered pills with a grateful nod, downing them with a gulp. You watched as Joe carefully placed the glass back on the bedside table and then slid under the covers with you, his body warm and solid against yours.

With an arm around your waist, he pulled you closer, tucking you into his side. You let out a contented sigh as his hand began to trace small, soothing circles on your back, your eyes fluttering closed once more.

[s4kura-tr3]

Hiya! Back, back again >:)

I was thinking about JJK men with an anxious reader? (I’ve personally been super anxious cause I’ve been sick and get SUPER anxious while I’m idle, especially with the ADHD simply- not letting me, so I’ve been thinking about it :P)

If you do this, thanks so much!! If you don’t, that’s totally cool too!! Have a fantastic day/night!! :D <3

(Sorry for the slow post, school has been kicking my butt..🥲)

Gojo satoru — You sat at the corner of the café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups around you doing little to quiet the buzzing thoughts in your head. Your fingers tapped against the ceramic of your untouched drink, and your leg bounced under the table as your eyes darted around the room.

“Are you waiting for someone?” a familiar, cheerful voice chirped from above you.

Your head snapped up, startled. There he was—Gojo Satoru, all six feet three inches of him, leaning over the back of the chair across from you, his trademark sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose to reveal his brilliant blue eyes.

“I—I didn’t think you’d come,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing.

“Didn’t think I’d come? I wouldn’t miss a date with you for the world!” He grinned, sitting down without invitation. “Though, I’m offended you underestimated my charm.”

His playful teasing made you smile, even as your heart continued its anxious rhythm. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought…maybe you’d have something better to do.”

Gojo’s expression softened, his usually smug demeanor replaced with something more sincere. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, close enough that you could see the faint scar just beneath his glasses.

“Better than hanging out with the most captivating person in this city? Nope,” he said, his voice gentle now. “Besides, I promised you last time that I’d be here. I don’t break promises, you know.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your cup. “I just…sometimes I think you’ll realize I’m not worth it. I’m not like you, Satoru. I’m not confident or fearless. I overthink everything, and sometimes I can’t even breathe because it all feels like too much.”

Gojo’s hand reached out across the table, covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “Hey,” he said softly, “first of all, you’re allowed to feel like that. Life can be overwhelming, and I get it. But don’t ever think you’re not worth my time. You’re worth everything, okay?”

Your eyes widened, and he continued, his thumb lightly brushing the back of your hand. “You don’t have to be like me. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. And if your brain gets too loud sometimes, that’s okay. I’ve got the loudest brain ever, so I know how it feels.” He grinned, trying to ease the tension.

A small laugh escaped you, and he beamed. “See? There’s that smile. You’re braver than you think, you know. Just showing up here today? That takes guts. And lucky for you, you’ve got me to help when things feel heavy. You don’t have to do it alone.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away some of the weight in your chest. You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“Anytime,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, “Now, let’s get some cake. You can’t be anxious when there’s cake. It’s scientifically impossible.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“For you? Always.”

Geto Suguru — The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder than you wanted them to be. You sat on the couch in your small apartment, knees pulled to your chest as your mind raced with worries—about work, about people, about things that didn’t even make sense anymore.

The knock on your door startled you, and you hesitated before standing. You didn’t need to check to know who it was. He always had this perfect timing, as if he could sense when you needed him most.

When you opened the door, there he stood: Geto Suguru, dressed in his usual black robe-like outfit, his long dark hair tied neatly behind him. He held a small bag in one hand and gave you a gentle smile.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” he said softly, stepping inside as you moved aside. “So I brought your favorite.”

You blinked at him, warmth blooming in your chest despite the anxious haze clouding your thoughts. “You didn’t have to—”

“Shh.” He held up a finger, his expression teasing but kind. “I wanted to. Sit down, and I’ll set it up for you.”

You followed his instructions without protest, sinking back onto the couch as Geto moved around the kitchen like he’d been there a thousand times before. The smell of the food he brought began to fill the space, grounding you in the present.

When he finally joined you, he placed the neatly arranged meal on the coffee table, but his focus remained on you. “Rough day?” he asked, his voice as calm as always.

You bit your lip, your hands twisting in your lap. “It’s just…everything. I feel like I can’t keep up, like I’m always messing something up, and it just won’t stop.”

Geto’s brows furrowed slightly, but his expression wasn’t pitying—it was understanding. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his hand rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly. “When it feels like the world is closing in, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

You nodded, surprised at how easily he seemed to understand.

“But,” he continued, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your shoulder, “you don’t have to face it all at once. It’s okay to take things slow. One step at a time, one thought at a time. And if it gets too overwhelming, you’ve got me. I’ll carry as much as I can for you.

Tears prickled at your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Because you’re important to me, that’s why. I care about you. And I’ll do whatever I can to remind you that you’re not alone, even when your mind tries to tell you otherwise.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest easing just a little. “Thank you, Suguru. For being here.”

“Always,” he said with a soft smile. Then, his eyes lit with a playful glint as he gestured toward the food. “Now eat before I have to feed you myself.”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. As the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm—him making jokes to distract you and you letting yourself be pulled into the warmth of his presence—you realized just how much lighter the room felt with him there.

Nanami kento — The soft click of the front door closing echoed through the quiet apartment. You sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. The weight in your chest felt immovable, like no amount of deep breaths or distractions could lift it.

“(Y/N), I’m home,” Nanami’s steady voice called from the entryway. His tone was the same as always—calm, measured—but there was an undercurrent of concern beneath it.

“In here,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than usual.

It didn’t take him long to find you. He stepped into the room, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. When his eyes landed on you, his sharp gaze softened instantly.

“Rough day?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching in front of you so you were eye level.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your fingers twisted the fabric of the blanket. “It’s…a lot. Everything feels too much. I don’t even know why.”

Nanami tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached out to take your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the present. “You don’t have to justify it,” he said simply. “Sometimes things feel heavy without a clear reason. That doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

Your breath hitched, the calm conviction in his voice making your throat tighten with emotion. “I feel like I’m drowning, Kento. And I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

Nanami’s thumbs rubbed slow circles against your knuckles, his steady movements as comforting as his presence. “You don’t have to face it alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You let out a shaky breath, finally meeting his eyes. The weight in your chest didn’t disappear, but the tight knot loosened ever so slightly under his steady gaze.

“Let’s focus on the basics,” he continued, his tone practical but kind. “Have you eaten today?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“Then we’ll start there,” he said firmly, standing and offering you his hand. “Come on. I’ll make something quick, and we’ll sit together. No pressure to talk if you’re not ready.”

You hesitated, but the look on his face—warm, patient, unwavering—made it hard to resist. Taking his hand, you let him guide you into the kitchen.

As he moved around with practiced ease, slicing vegetables and boiling water, he made quiet conversation, nothing too heavy. He told you about a coworker’s antics at the office and how the new bakery he passed had a line around the block. His voice was calm, steady, a soothing balm to your racing thoughts.

When he finally placed the bowl of food in front of you, he sat beside you at the table, his hand resting lightly on your back. “Take your time,” he said, his tone as soft as his touch.

You took a bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you like the comfort of his presence. “Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at him.

His lips curved into a small, rare smile. “You don’t need to thank me. Just remember, no matter how heavy it feels, you’re not alone in carrying it.”

Toji fushiguro — You sat curled up on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The TV was on, but the sound was muted—just background noise to fill the heavy silence in your apartment. Your chest felt tight, and no amount of shifting or deep breathing seemed to make it better.

The sound of keys jingling snapped you out of your thoughts. The door opened with a quiet creak, and Toji stepped inside, his broad frame instantly making the small space feel smaller. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes flicking to you almost immediately.

“You’ve been like this all day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and gruff but not unkind.

You glanced away, embarrassed. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though your voice cracked on the last word.

Toji let out a short, knowing laugh. “Yeah, that’s convincing.” He walked over, dropping onto the couch beside you with a heavy thud. His body heat radiated toward you, and though he didn’t touch you yet, his presence alone was grounding.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, leaning back and draping one arm along the back of the couch, his tone softer now.

You hesitated, staring down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Everything just feels…wrong. I can’t stop overthinking, and it’s like no matter what I do, I can’t calm down.”

Toji’s brow furrowed as he watched you, but he didn’t rush you to say more. After a moment, he let out a low sigh and reached out, his rough hand resting on your knee.

“Hey,” he said, his voice steadier now. “First of all, cut yourself some slack. You’re allowed to feel like this. Nobody’s got it all figured out, not even me.”

You glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. “You sure about that?”

Toji smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m serious. You think I’ve never had nights where I felt like ripping my own damn hair out? Life’s messy, and sometimes it gets too loud up here.” He tapped his temple lightly.

His words caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to open up, even a little.

“But,” he continued, giving your knee a gentle squeeze, “you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Your throat tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly, his tone firm. “Stop that. Your feelings aren’t stupid, and you’re not a damn burden. If it matters to you, it matters. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise.”

His words struck something deep inside you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight on your chest was still there, but it felt a little lighter with his steady presence grounding you.

“Feel like getting some fresh air?” he asked after a while, his voice low and rumbling. “Sometimes a walk helps. If not, we’ll come back, and I’ll make you something to eat. Or we can just sit here, your call.”

You nodded against his shoulder, his straightforwardness cutting through the fog in your mind. “A walk sounds nice.”

Toji stood, pulling you to your feet with ease. He grabbed your coat and handed it to you, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Good. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll take care of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his dramatic threat, the tension in your chest easing just a little more.

With Toji by your side, the world didn’t feel quite as overwhelming.

Sukuna ryomen — You sat on the floor of your room, back pressed against the wall, trying to breathe through the crushing weight in your chest. Everything felt wrong—your thoughts raced, your heart pounded, and no matter what you tried, the panic refused to let go. You buried your face in your knees, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

“Oi.”

The familiar deep voice cut through the haze in your mind. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Sukuna. His presence always carried an undeniable weight, like the air itself bent around him.

You didn’t respond. Maybe if you ignored him, he’d leave.

“Are you seriously going to sit there like that?” he said, his tone sharp but lacking its usual venom. You could hear his footsteps as he crossed the room. “You’re better than this.”

You finally lifted your head, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes. “Better than what? Feeling like this? I can’t just make it stop, Sukuna.”

He crouched down in front of you, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Tch. No one said you had to ‘just make it stop.’” His voice was quieter now, almost calm. “But you’re not going to get through it by curling up and letting it win, either.”

You scoffed, turning your head away. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back without hesitation. His words were blunt, but his tone softened slightly. “You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let some invisible nonsense bring you down, you’re wrong.”

Your breath hitched, his declaration catching you off guard. Sukuna, of all people, wasn’t exactly known for kindness or concern. Yet here he was, crouched in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“You don’t have to fight this alone,” he said after a moment, his voice lower now, more controlled. “But you do need to fight it. Let it scream all it wants. Let it throw its punches. Then stand up and remind it who you are.”

His words struck something deep within you, and tears began to fall despite your best efforts. “I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Sukuna sighed, leaning back slightly but staying close. “You can,” he said firmly. “And even if you stumble, I’m here. I’ll drag you back to your feet if I have to.”

You looked up at him, your vision blurred with tears. “You’d really do that?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t as sharp as usual. There was something softer in the way he looked at you. “Of course. Can’t have my little human breaking apart, now can I?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, and Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. He extended a clawed hand toward you, palm up. “Come on. You’re not staying on the floor all night.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle as he pulled you to your feet. He didn’t let go immediately, his hand lingering in yours for just a second longer than necessary.

“Better,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You don’t need to be perfect. Just keep moving forward, little one. That’s enough.”

You nodded, his words settling in your chest like a spark of light. With Sukuna beside you, the weight on your shoulders didn’t seem quite as heavy anymore.

Megumi fushiguro — You sat at the edge of your bed, gripping the fabric of your pants as your mind spiraled. Your chest felt tight, and your breaths came shallow, no matter how hard you tried to slow them. You hated this feeling—this overwhelming, suffocating anxiety that left you frozen in place.

A knock at the door broke through your haze

“Hey,” Megumi’s soft, steady voice called from the other side. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, debating whether to send him away, but before you could answer, the door creaked open just enough for his head to peek through. His dark eyes locked onto yours, scanning your face with quiet concern.

“Thought so,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything else right away, just walked over and sat beside you on the bed, leaving a small but comforting distance between you.

You stared at the floor, ashamed to even look at him. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremble in your voice gave you away.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to say that,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I can tell you’re not.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tears start to build. “I hate this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like I’m stuck in my own head, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Megumi glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” he said after a moment. “I know it feels like you’re drowning, but you’re not. I’m right here.”

His words made something in your chest ache, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Megumi said firmly, finally turning to face you. “Don’t even think that. Everyone needs help sometimes. Even me.”

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. “You?”

He gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. You’ve seen how I can get—shutting people out, trying to deal with everything on my own. It doesn’t work.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “You’ve been there for me before. Let me be here for you now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and Megumi didn’t hesitate. He scooted closer, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours. His touch was warm and grounding, steady in a way that made your chest feel a little less tight.

“Breathe with me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just focus on my voice.”

You nodded, following his lead as he guided you through slow, deep breaths. His voice was calm, his presence unshakable, and gradually, the suffocating weight in your chest began to ease.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his tone gentle but hopeful.

You nodded again, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “A little,” you admitted.

Megumi gave you a small smile, the kind that was rare but always genuine. “Good. It doesn’t have to be perfect right now. Just one step at a time.”

He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again. With Megumi’s quiet strength grounding you, the storm in your mind didn’t seem so impossible to face.

Yuji itadori — You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. Your chest felt heavy, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t untangle. Everything felt like too much, and no matter how hard you tried to calm down, nothing seemed to work.

The sound of the door opening barely registered in your mind.

“Hey, I’m back!” Yuji’s cheerful voice echoed through the room, followed by the sound of a bag hitting the floor. “I got your favorite snack—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. “Wait…what’s wrong?”

You didn’t look up, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. “It’s nothing,” you murmured, though your shaky voice betrayed you.

Yuji was by your side in an instant, crouching in front of you with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t say that. If something’s bothering you, it’s not nothing.”

You shook your head, burying your face in your knees. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it. My head won’t stop racing, and everything feels like it’s too much.”

Yuji sat down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his knees. “Okay,” he said gently. “Then you don’t have to explain it. But you don’t have to deal with it alone either, okay? I’m here.”

You peeked at him through watery eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your day, Yuji. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

He frowned, his face softening as he reached out to rest a hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re never ruining my day, okay? You’re important to me. If you’re feeling bad, then I want to help.”

His words broke something in you, and a tear slid down your cheek. Yuji’s expression didn’t falter. Instead, he smiled, soft and reassuring. “You know what we’ll do? We’ll take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rush. Just little steps until it feels better.”

“How?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“First, we breathe,” he said, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. “Come on, match my breathing. In for four, out for four.” He exaggerated each breath, making it easy for you to follow.

You mimicked him hesitantly, the steady rhythm of his breathing drawing you out of your head little by little.

“See? You’re doing great,” he said, beaming at you once you both settled into a calmer pace. “Now, do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here for a while?”

You glanced at him, his warm smile easing the tightness in your chest. “Just…sit here for now.”

“Okay,” he said simply. Without hesitation, Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you gently against him. “We’ll just sit. I’ll be here as long as you need.��

The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing grounded you in the moment. With Yuji by your side, the weight pressing down on you didn’t feel quite as heavy. He didn’t need to say anything else—his presence alone was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Bad Day

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Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets her period while out shopping with Wanda. Wanda takes her home and makes her feel better. Just the most fluff imaginable.

Warnings: talk of periods so like blood and stuff.

A/n: I got my period again after not having it for the last 3 months. Which is good bc it means I’m healthier but sucks bc it’s making my fatigue worse :,) anyway i wrote this bc i’m in pain.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The buzz of the florescent supermarket lights flew around your skull as you slowly pushed the shopping cart. You’d already spent what felt like hours in here with no end in sight. Wanda was ahead of the cart, list in hand, putting all the things you’d need for the week in the cart. The cart that was only getting heavier and heavier as the two of you made your way down a new isle. It was three isle back you had started to feel a slight pain in your lower stomach but you didn’t think much of it, maybe all this food talk was just making you hungry. However now you knew something was wrong. Then you felt it. Your period was a week early and you were completely unprepared for it.

“Wanda?” You winced slightly as the dull pain from before became stronger. The witch was too laser focused on comparing nutritional information on the back of yoghurt to hear you, so you abandoned the cart, your legs feeling a bit too wobbly to push it closer. “Wanda.” You tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped, “i don’t feel very good.”

“Oh baby do you feel like you might be sick?” Wanda asked with concern.

“No, I just don’t feel very good.” You said nervously hoping Wanda would understand what was happening without you having to say it out loud.

“I don’t understand what you. OH! Oh…” Wanda suddenly understood, “do you have anything to?” You shook your head no, the cramps were getting worse and you knew your underwear was ruined. Wanda looked a little panicked. “Go wait in the car i’ll finish up in here i wont be long promise.” She kissed you on the cheek and went to grab the cart. “It isn��t on the list but i think some chocolate will have to be purchased this week.” You gave her a weak smile as you began to walk out of the store and towards the car.

It was not a fun walk. You felt gross and a particularly bad wave of pain had started. As you slowly got into the car you hoped you wouldn’t bleed through your clothes and onto the fabric seats. After twenty minutes of fluctuating pain and mourning the loss of the cute pink underwear you’d put on this morning, you heard the car boot open. Wanda was back and loading the shopping bags into the car. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, you would be home soon. Wanda was extra careful on the drive home, making sure not to cause you anymore discomfort than you were already feeling. Once home she made you go straight inside, refusing any help unloading the bags.

“You got upstairs and have a bath, i’m going to put these away.” You tried to offer help “Nope, no, not happening. Oh and make sure you take some painkillers.” Was the last thing you heard her say before she used her magic to push you upstairs and into the bathroom. Not one to argue you ran your self a bath, adding in your favourite soaps and lighting a candle. Now came the part you were dreading. You took off your jeans turning them over to see if any blood had gotten on them, thankfully they were safe. That, however, was not the case for your underwear. Slowly you removed them before chucking them straight into the bin. The strain could probably be removed but right now you wanted something to be angry at and, unfortunately for them, you chose your ruined underwear. After taking off the rest of your clothes you lowered yourself into the bath and began to soak off the shit day you’d had.

After a while you heard footsteps approach the bathroom and the door slowly opened. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, you knew who it was, instead you sank lower into the now lukewarm bath. “How are you feeling baby?” Wanda said gently, “ready to get out?” You gave her a fake frown before allowing her to help you out of the bath and into a fluffy towel. You dried your lower half quickly and put on the clean underwear already holding a pad thanks to Wanda. “What would i do without you?” You smiled lovingly at your girlfriend. “I don’t know… but you wouldn’t be eating nearly as many vegetables.” She teased in return.

You let out a small squeak as she suddenly lifted you with her magic and began to carry you to the bedroom. She’d laid out a fresh pair of pajamas and in the middle of the bed was a tray with lots of your favourite snacks. “I thought we’d have a movie night.” Wanda floated you all the way onto the bed, dropping you down softly. “Sounds perfect.” The hot bath had helped relax your muscles and your cramps didn’t hurt as much now but Wanda still insisted you take more painkillers. Snuggling under the duvet, the two of you began watching a stupid action movie and took turns throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths. Eventually, you started to fall asleep. Curled up in Wanda’s arms she gently stroked your hair out of your face. As your breathing slowed, Wanda leaned in giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Sleep well my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[ikkyfics]

Lullaby

dad!Remus Lupin x mom!reader

Summary: The quiet cry woke him. Remus approached cautiously, leaning over her. “Hey, my little star, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” he whispered, his voice so soft it almost got lost in the sound of his breath.

Warnings: fluffy, est. relationship, no use of baby name, no war au, no use of y/n, after hogwarts (obviously)

A/N: just because i couldn't stop thinking about dad!remus

Masterlist

The quiet cry woke him. It wasn’t a loud or desperate sound, just enough to cut through the silence of the early morning and pierce the few seconds of peace the house seemed to hold. Remus slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dimness of the room, and looked at you. You were still fast asleep beside him, your face relaxed, one hand gently resting on the pillow. He stayed still for a moment, contemplating the calm on your face, before carefully getting up. He didn’t want to wake you.

He walked down the hall, his bare feet making almost no sound against the wooden floor. The cry had faded to a low whimper, but it was still there, insistent, as if the baby knew he was coming. Pushing open the slightly ajar door to her room, the soft light from the nightlight revealed the small form in the crib. She squirmed restlessly, tiny fists clenched, her eyes still damp.

Remus approached cautiously, leaning over her. “Hey, my little star, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” he whispered, his voice so soft it almost got lost in the sound of his breath. With a skill he never imagined he’d have before becoming a father, he lifted her into his arms, holding her with the tenderness she seemed to require, as though she were made of fine glass.

She was so small, so absurdly small, that he always found himself wondering how something so fragile could exist. He adjusted her little body against his chest, feeling her tiny fingers close around one of the folds of his shirt. As he rocked her gently, he looked at her face, the features still so delicate, so full of possibilities. “Do you have any idea how loved you are?” he whispered. “No, of course not. But you are. So much it almost hurts.”

He continued rocking her softly, his large hands contrasting with her little body. Every movement felt like a miracle. He looked at his own hands, marked with old scars, the uneven lines crossing the skin like memories of another life. A life where he never could have imagined being here, in this house, holding his daughter in his arms. “You know, sometimes I still think this is a dream. That I’ll wake up and all of this will just be something I made up to feel less alone.”

He let out a low laugh, almost humorless, but the little one responded with a soft sound, as if trying to talk to him. “Ah, so you are really here, huh?” he said, squeezing her a little tighter against him. “You and your mum… you’ve made everything so real. So much better.”

His thoughts drifted to you, sleeping in the room next door. He remembered so many nights when you simply held him, even when he tried to hide the shadows in his mind. You always seemed to know. Always seemed to understand. “She’s amazing, you know?” he confided in the baby, as if she could understand him. “Your mum. She loves me in a way I never thought possible. And you? You’re proof of that. Proof that I’m not alone anymore.”

The baby began to relax, her little body growing heavier in his arms. He sat in the rocking chair beside the crib, adjusting her so she could rest against him. The room seemed wrapped in a bubble of calm, only the light sound of her breathing and the creak of the chair filling the space.

He looked at her one more time, admiring the fine lashes, the perfect curve of her cheeks. How could someone so small carry so much love? It was almost overwhelming. He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll never need to doubt that, you know? How much you are loved. I promise.”

The almost imperceptible sound of the door creaking made him raise his head, his senses still sharp from the restlessness of the days following the full moon. For a moment, his body tensed, but then he saw her. You were there, standing in the doorway, your face softly lit by the light of the nightlight. Your eyes held concern, but also something else—something he recognized, and that made his heart tighten: pure love.

“You should be resting,” you said, your voice soft to not disturb the little one.

He smiled, that smile that always seemed to hold a world of unspoken stories. “And so should you,” he replied, gently rocking the chair while keeping the baby nestled against his chest. “I heard her little cry, and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You moved closer slowly, your eyes fixed on him and the sleeping baby. Each step seemed filled with care, as if you, too, didn’t want to break the magical stillness of the moment. When you reached them, you crouched beside the chair, your hand gently touching his thigh. “Remus…” you began, hesitating but with a voice full of affection. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s been so few days since the last full moon. You need to rest.”

He let out a low laugh, almost inaudible, as he looked at you. “I’m fine,” he said, but the way his eyes darted away for a brief moment gave him away. “Besides, look at her…” He tilted his head to look at the little one in his arms, a soft glow in his eyes. “How could I want to be anywhere else?”

You smiled, but there was a tender weight in your expression. “I heard what you said,” you murmured. He lifted his gaze to you, confused for a moment, until he realized what you were talking about.

“You heard?” he asked, and there was something vulnerable in his voice, something he rarely let show.

You nodded, your eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears. “About how you think this might be a dream… About how you love us. I just want you to know that this is real, Remus. We are real. I am real. And I love you more than anything in this world.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned a little forward, until their foreheads almost touched. “I know,” he whispered, his voice so full of emotion it barely came out. “It’s just that… sometimes it’s hard to believe. Not because I doubt you, but because I never thought I deserved something like this. You. Her. All of this.”

Your hand reached up to touch his face, your fingers gliding gently over the stubble that was beginning to form. “You do deserve it, Remus. And I’ll remind you of that every day, if I have to.” Your voice was firm, but full of sweetness, as if each word was a caress.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, before opening a small, genuine smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Someone has to take care of you, since you insist on taking care of everyone,” you replied, the softness turning into a hint of teasing. He chuckled quietly, and the sound warmed his chest.

“So… do you want to hold her?” he asked, shifting slightly in the chair to lift the baby with care.

You nodded and opened your arms, accepting her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And, of course, she was. When you held her, she made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a grunt, before snuggling comfortably against you. You looked at her with an expression of pure adoration, your fingers gently stroking her back as she fell back asleep.

Remus watched for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as you rocked the baby with such tenderness that it seemed impossible for it to be anything mundane. It was as if every gesture of yours was a deliberate act of love, something he never failed to notice, even after all this time together. He reached out and adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, the touch delicate, almost reverent.

You were so close that the space between you seemed to dissolve. He let his arms rest around your body, pulling you gently closer, as if he needed this contact to anchor his own feelings. You leaned against him, the warmth of both of you creating a bubble of comfort around the little one, who was now completely peaceful, nestled in your arms.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at her, your faces so close that your breaths mingled. The light from the night lamp bathed the room in a soft glow, making everything even more intimate. The baby moved her little hand, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, and both of you smiled at the same time, as if it were the most extraordinary thing you had ever witnessed.

Remus tilted his face to the side, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as he whispered, “Thank you.”

The word was so simple, but the weight of it made you close your eyes for a moment, absorbing everything it carried. It wasn’t just a thank you for that moment. It was for everything. For you being there, for her existence, for everything he had never dared believe he could have.

“Why?” you asked softly, turning your face just enough to meet his eyes. There was a soft gleam in them, something that made your heart race even after so many moments like that.

“For this,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “For you. For her. For us. I still wonder how I got so lucky… how the universe was generous enough to give me something like this.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t find the words to express what he felt. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This complete.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a light kiss, but one full of meaning. “I feel lucky too, you know? Every day. For you, for her, for everything we’ve built together.” Your voice was soft, but every word carried the weight of an unshakable truth.

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, his arms around you, his hands covering yours as you still held the baby. The world outside seemed distant, almost nonexistent. Everything that mattered was right there, in that room.

When the little one finally fell completely asleep, you and Remus exchanged a knowing glance, as if you both knew exactly what to do without needing to say anything. He leaned in to take the baby back with all the care, holding her against his chest while you adjusted the blanket in the crib. Both of your movements were synchronized, a perfect reflection of the partnership you had built.

As he placed her in the crib, he lingered for a second longer, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. He let out a soft sigh before straightening up, passing his arms around you again as you both pulled away.

“I love you both,” he said, his voice low but so full of feeling that it made your eyes burn. You rested your head against his shoulder, your arms around his waist, as if you wanted to hold him as close as possible.

“And we love you, Remus,” you replied, squeezing him a little tighter. “Always.”

You stayed there for a while longer, just enjoying the comfortable silence, each other’s presence, and the little miracle you had before you. Everything felt so right, so perfect in that moment, that neither of you wanted to break the magic.

[fuctacles]

<< 15 | 0 | 17 >>

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For the first half of the night, Eddie tries to focus on their next movie but the anxiety bubbling inside doesn't let him. He realizes his feelings are real, and as scary as his own infatuation might be, the idea of Steve feeling the same is even more terrifying. Because where does he go from there? Being friends is easy, he knows how to do that. But dating? Dating a guy? Steve The Hair Harrington, no less—?!

He's jolted from his thoughts when his fingers are pried open and his joint slips out. A frowning Argyle is kneeling in front of him, and a frowning Argyle is the last thing anyone would want to see. 

But his big, warm hand is rubbing Eddie's knee soothingly and it helps him settle back into his body and the soft couch.

"No more weed for you, brochacho," Argyle tells him. "Your vibe is off and I don't want you to have a bad trip."

Eddie nods, knowing better than to argue.

"Okay. Can I have a beer?"

"I guess," Argyle shrugs, before turning to crawl back to his place between Jonathan and Robin, in a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets. 

"Here." A can of beer dangles in front of Eddie's face. "You can finish mine," Steve offers. 

Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

"Nah, I'll get another one." He unglues himself from the couch, but immediately gets pushed back into it. 

"Sit. I'll do it."

"Oh, how the turns have tabled," Robin grins up at them and Steve flips her off as he stands. 

He leaves Eddie with his unfinished beer and it fills him with warmth. Before he takes a sip, he briefly holds it to his chest, like it's a precious gift from a lover. 

"These are the last ones, so make them count." Steve puts the beers on the coffee table, grabbing one for himself. He scratches Eddie's head before sitting down and oh, yeah, he gets now why he likes it so much. It feels so fucking good he could purr. 

"You alright?" Steve leans close, too close, his breath warming Eddie's cheek. "Wanna turn in early?"

Eddie shakes his head, briefly hoping the movement makes him brush against Steve's lips. His thoughts are a needy mush.

"But thank you," he whispers. 

He's not prepared for Steve's arm to wrap around him and push him close but he quickly melts against the embrace. He's warm and relaxed and briefly regrets turning down the offer to go to bed. But he wants to finish the movie, even if he knows he won't remember the ending tomorrow. 

When he chugs down the last drops of his beer, Steve takes the empty can from him and they share the last one together, the rest already distributed between their friends. The night is winding down, the movie is coming to an end, and Eddie is blissed out in everything that's Steve Harrington. 

"Can I sleep with you?" 

Eddie blinks his eyes open, not even sure when he closed them. Robin is kneeling in front of him, wobbly and pouting. 

"No, sorry," the quiet words rumble through Eddie's body. "Already promised Eddie."

She huffs, knocks her head against Steve's knee and turns around to crawl back to the fluffy nest made by Jonathan and Argyle. 

"Fine, our pillow nest is better anyway," she says, slurring the words together. 

Steve chuckles, shaking Eddie in the process, and it's only then, when a warm hand rubs against his side, that he realizes he's curled against his friend's chest. Thank gods for substances because he'd burn to a crisp from shame otherwise. 

"I'm already jealous," Steve says. "You really okay sleeping here?" he asks, straightening up slightly. His arm curls tighter around Eddie to secure him from falling. 

Argyle flops in the middle of the pillow pile with a sigh.

"It's perfect," he assures. 

"Do you want extra blankets or something?"

"Nah," Robin says, wrapping herself into what she's already snatched from the linen closet. 

"Well, yell if you need anything, then. Eddie?" The hand on his side rubs with purpose, to gain his attention. "Ready to go upstairs?"

"No." Something petulant and childish wakes up in Eddie's chest. Well, more childish than usual. "Carry me," he demands, blinking up at his friend. 

"I'd love to." Steve's hands tighten around him and he has to press his lips together not to make a sound. "But I'm too drunk not to drop you on the stairs. Maybe another time."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, standing up along with him. "Another time." Of course there will be another time, they share the bed so often these days. 

They say their goodnight and stumble upstairs, pushing each other and giggling. It's a miracle none of the photos lining the wall fall down. (The miracle is also called Steve's reflexes.)

Eddie has forgotten all about his little detour earlier, until he bumps into his friend's back, frozen in the door frame while he sniffs the air. 

"What is that?"

"Huh?"

Steve flips the light switch and the mortifying memory of what he's done hits him in all its decades old glory. Then again, the contrast of Frankenbunny and the atrocious blue sheets, mixed with the alcohol and weed, make Eddie snort out an ugly laugh. 

"Well, I caught a rabbit for you, I guess," he barks out, and gets a mixed look of amusement and concern. 

Steve hastily closes the door so Eddie's antics don't bother their friends downstairs. 

"What?" he asks with confusion, reaching for the plushie sitting on top of his bed. Eddie has half a mind to stop him, but then Steve is cradling Frankenbunny's floppy, long ears and gently fixing his vest, and whatever he wanted to say gets stuck in his throat. "What do you mean?" he asks again, sitting down to look at him curiously, the plushie in his lap. Looking up at Eddie as well, with its stitched black eyes. 

"Uh, from the song?" Eddie answers, focusing on his childhood friend. "The Elvis one." He suddenly feels extremely dumb. What was he thinking? Well, he was thinking about the old rabbit plushie in his closet and how it would be a funny reference to the song and okay, maybe he let his freshly discovered crush guide his actions, yeah, he can see it now.

"Sorry, thought it would be funny," he shrugs helplessly, before looking from the bunny up to Steve. And he doesn't like what he's seeing. "Shit, did I offend you? I didn't mean to, I swear, I was just being dumb—"

Steve shakes his head to stop him.

"No, this is very nice, I appreciate it. It's just..." he sighs deeply, his shoulders sagging. With a grunt, he falls backwards on the mattress, Frankenbunny following close to his chest. Eddie feels like he's being hugged himself, air being squeezed out of his lungs. He tentatively follows onto the bed. 

"We're supposed to be pack creatures, you know?" Steve continues once he feels the mattress dip as Eddie joins him. He turns his head to look at him, the angle slightly upside down. "But I presented later than most, my parents didn't even think I have a wolf at all," he scoffs. "Well, I don't, apparently. They called me a "domesticated mutt" and left for somewhere in California. I think."

It takes Eddie a moment to process what he's just heard. 

"Excuse me, what?" he frowns. 

"I'm not wolf-y enough so they didn't want me in the pack," he explains, looking back at Frankenbunny. He props him up to sit on his chest so he can play with his mismatched ears. "They actually told me not to spread the faulty genes, even."

The silence stretches for even longer, because Eddie fears he'd start screaming if he opened his mouth. 

"They're faulty genes," he grits through his teeth. "Pack animals my ass."

Steve shrugs awkwardly in his laying position.

"Well, at least they left me the house. I know it was just so I wouldn't follow them, but I've heard of wolves being killed or left for dead, so..."

He looks up when his head dips between Eddie's hands, who leans over to look at him properly. 

"It's shitty what they've done to you, and you should never think this is better than death," he tells him the obvious, knowing sometimes it's good to get reminded of the most mundane things. "Well, it is, I'd rather have you alive, but you can't settle down with this 'oh thank you for not killing me' attitude. Dude, fuck your parents," he says with passion.

And Steve, finally, smiles. 

"Fuck my parents."

tags:

@noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1

@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible

@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets

@ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight

@eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester

[ghostgirl-22]

i like the idea of patrick giving art hickeys. art lies to the other guys on the team, says they’re from various girls but everyone knows the truth. maybe patrick even tells them when art isn’t around

I like that idea too actually, thank you for sharing anon<33

(Whoa im not even gonna edit this…good luck everyone!)

CW: 18+ !NSFW! The S/m part of bdsm, if you squint

—-

Art bruises easily. It really shouldn’t be something that turns Patrick on…but it is. He bruises so, so easy. Every time Patrick thinks about it, his dick gets a little hard. Fingerprints on his waist, bite marks his shoulders, hickeys on his throat. He’s not sure if Art really believes him anymore when Patrick says he’s not doing it on purpose.

God.

It’s so fucked up but he barely has to do anything, barely has to bite, barely has to squeeze and little pink-purple marks bloom vividly everywhere. The bruises don’t even stick around, they’re fading almost as easy as they come. Turning pale pink as the blood beneath them disappates before they turn white and disappear. But when they’re there, when they’re fresh, it’s so fucking delicious.

Especially because Art is so goody goody, so strait laced, so careful and controlled and put together. Patrick kinda loves just unraveling him. Sex so good that it makes him forget how to behave himself. Forget they’re doing it in public, forget his grandma is down the hall, forget all decorum. Mostly he forgets to make Patrick stop sucking visible evidence that he’s not a perfect angel into his skin.

Sometimes it’s so obvious… like the other day in class when their English professor noticed “fun night last night?” And then his ex girlfriend noticed. She scrunched her nose up irritated. Patrick can’t help it, he was giddy watching Art try to hide it the rest of the day. Skin all flushed, anxious that everyone was aware of what he’s been up to.

He gets so anxious for it, tells Patrick he’ll mark him back if he doesn’t stop. Patrick promises he will. But it’s not his fault…Art is just so fragile. Especially when he’s… pressed up against the wall taking Patrick’s cock because he couldn’t wait for the bed. Or when he’s on his knees in the back of the movie theater swallowing as much as he can while Patrick’s running his popcornbutter covered fingers through golden blond curls. Patrick doesn’t even mean to mark him. Not really. He just kinda wants everyone to know that this is his.

Patrick’s favorite thing is when their teammates tease Art about it.

It’s one of the last nights of an away tournament and most of the varsity team has gathered in Everett Moore and Lindsay Jefferson's hotel room, because Lindsay happens to be number one singles player and team captain (and he also happens to come from the richest family on campus. One doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other but Patrick knows he’s technically a better player. Hell, Art might even be better but that’s neither here nor there). When they meet up, someone usually sneaks in alcohol or weed and they watch movies or play music, while shooting the shit and discussing previous and upcoming matches and opponents.

They’re all spread out across the room, on the floor, on the beds. The tv is on with the volume low, red solo cups all over the place and two bottles of rum and three two liters of Pepsi are on the dresser. Along with three nearly empty boxes of pizza and a stack of unused paper plates.

As a team they often pick on each other, it’s not just Art. But Patrick’s favorite is when the attention shifts to Art because he gets even more interesting than he already is.

“Donaldson, that one looks fresh?” It’s Scott Jefferson, Lindsay's little (by 10 months) brother, normally everyone blows him off because he’s the youngest on the team. But Lindsay is amused.

“It does look like a new one, who’s been kissing you?” He chimes in.

Art waves it off. “Uh it’s not that new… you just couldn’t see it under the um… my uniform.” He lies. Because it is new, brand, brand new. Patrick did it last night when Art crawled into his bed because the air conditioner wasn’t working and it was too hot. Then it got hotter. They had to take a cold shower after. Art was all pouty when he noticed it in the morning.

“This one is fading, time for a new one,” Alex Kim, who’s right next to Art on the floor, touches at what Patrick knows is a sensitive spot. Art squirms and shifts his shoulder up towards his ear. Alex bites down on a smile and scoots closer to him.

”I thought Shannon broke up with you,” Everett points out, from his spot next to Patrick on the bed.

“She did, I’m— I’m seeing another girl. She’s—“Art gestures vaguely. “She doesn’t go to MRTA.”

“Where does she go?” Someone else asks.

“Yeah who’s this mystery girl, she’s a bit of a freak isn’t she? Marking you up,” Patrick chimes in, grabbing another slice of pizza and then settling back on his spot on the bed.

Art glares at him and then rolls his eyes. “Piney Brook, the all girls school.” He says and he takes another drink.

“What’s her name? One of us might know her,” Alex asks. He’s trying to poke at the hickey and Art shrugs him away. Patrick knows Alex is one of a handful of their teammates who would fuck Art if he got the chance. And maybe it’s because Patrick’s jealous, maybe it’s because he’s a little possessive (he can’t stop leaving little marks all over Art after all) but he told Alex about it, Alex and his doubles partner and roommate, Corey. Corey who cant keep his big fucking mouth shut to save his life. So everyone already fucking knows. But they love to tease Art anyway. See if he’ll admit it.

“She’s- she’s new, I doubt any of you losers would know her,” Art continues to lie.

“Is she here now? Or did you cheat on her?” Callum Harrington pipes up. “Cause that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

“He’s a fucking cheat,” Alex teases and Corey snorts a laugh.

“I didn’t cheat,” Art’s cheeks are pinkening, god, Patrick can feel himself getting hard, he’s gonna give him another one. “What about you, Harrington? You had a big one a few weeks ago.” Art says, deflecting.

“When my girl does it, she lets me borrow her make up to hide it. But mostly it’s me sucking hickies on her neck,” Callum says.

“Please, look how pale he is, he probably gets kissed and then it’s turning red,” Everett points out.

“Or poked,” Alex teases, nudging him. Art hiccups, nudging him back playfully before he takes another drink, determinedly not looking in Patrick’s direction.

“You want another hickey, Donaldson? I could give you plenty.” The openly gay kid Jesse Newman asks.

That makes a couple of them laugh and Jesse smirks in Patrick’s direction.

“Guys, come on,” Art says, uncrossing his legs. “Can we talk about something else, I don’t want to um… she’s really private.”

“Private but she’s claimed you publicly,” Lindsay smirks.

“I just… I do bruise a lot. Wait um— you mean this right?” He touches the hickey. “I actually just slept bad that’s nothing.”

“Oh I bet you sleep bad a lot,” Jesse says.

“I do kinda,” Art says, shyly.

“Does he, Zweig?” Lindsay asks.

“Oh absolutely,” Patrick smirks and a few of the guys chuckle.

Art is clearly relieved when the topic shifts away from hickies to Jesse’s birthday party. He’s still flushed for the alcohol, drinks way too much and lets Alex massage a cramp in his calf. All while making these soft little relieved moaning sounds that no one else probably notices but are driving Patrick crazy. Sounds Alex will probably run home and masturbate to. And he wonders why Patrick needs to mark him. He probably thinks Patrick’s not paying attention because he’s talking a lot but he’s always paying attention to Art.

It’s when someone inevitably rents a porno off HBO and Lindsay and Everett get pissed because they’ll likely be in trouble with the coaches, is when the party ends. And Patrick’s guiding Art back to their room, Art is silly drunk and horny. Doesn’t even pretend to get in his own bed. Just climbs in with Patrick. And he sighs contentedly, his body all sticky wet with lube and come as Patrick licks and nibbles at his throat, a new one already blooming.

[nuyhado3o]

Maybe cupid won't miss

Salesman x fem!reader

Angst, 836 words

Warnings: *sigh* non-con, m*rdrer, implied kidnapping, genuinely sick, cannibalism, salesman is a complete psycho, manipulation, DDDNE

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.

.

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Living in Seoul was boring, frankly annoying. The men were creepy, very creepy. It's not like you lived in a nice neighborhood either, not as if you could pay for a nicer house anyways.

You work so hard, and what do you get repayed? Late working hours, coming home at 11pm? Sadly, yeah, although if you had it your way you probably wouldn't change it. I mean, that's what you get, for not finishing school and all. Kinda depressing but realistic.

While basically sleepwalking, you haven't even realized the man walking towards you.

,,My bad, sorry" you wished it would've ended there, tired and hungry you just wanted to go home.

You never got to your front door though.

Well, it would've ended there if the man, who looked slightly ascrew, didn't insist on you playing a game with him.

,,I'm gonna be honest with you man, I'm so tired id gamble all my money off on you" his face grew impatient, ,,not that I have any" not caring about his age or authority.

,,Wouldn't such a lady your age like a new bag, or a new house even, you're too pretty to stay in this lower class hell"

Instinctly backing away and starting to walk in a random direction, hoping he'll give up, he obviously didn't.

,,Miss please wait!" He ran after you.

Jesus christ is this dude on acid or what?

,,what. -you said bluntly, what do you want from me, at this time in the night, I don't want to play your games"

He grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you closer to him, instantly you started to try and shimmy out of his grasp.

,,Listen lady if I don't get this, if I don't get you to play this, I'm going to shoot myself"

You stopped. Stared at him with wide eyes.

Kill himself? Because of a game? He's an asshole but if this means so much to him I'll do it.

,, I'll do it, only if you leave me alone after"

,,no promises"

Whatever the fuck that mea-

Waking up, it's dark, it took you a few seconds to understand your situation.

You're tied up, you're half naked, you laying there, where? You don't know, the dark is so consuming you're not even sure if you're conscious yet, it's so cold you don't even know if you're in a house or outside.

You didn't see the door open, ofcourse you didn't, how could you, you've been nothing but useless and if the situation you think is happening, it's guaranteed no one will ever wonder where your face went.

,,Sir what are you doing?

-shut the fuck up

His tone is dominant, making you forget why you even opened your mouth, blunt and sharp like a knife.

Or like a gun,

,,I can't tell what you think about me, but you're so beautiful, we're both dying anyways so you better fucking love me"

Your trying, you're really trying to move or, or just make yourself believe that you're here, not watching a movie in 1st person.

He's been talking but you haven't been listening

,,but all I really want is a kiss on the cheek, I don't ask for much! Your heart is literally what I want for lunch"

He sounded psychotic, he sounded sick, you knew your voice will never be heard so, you stopped trying.

Standing up, walking away, you relaxed.

,, you truly made my day, do you watch movies?"

He came back closer to you

,,do you?"

You slightly nodded, not knowing anything about cinema

Hmph.,nod

He came closer, took off your shirt, slowly, you thought you knew what was coming but; in reality it was so much worse than you thought.

Once you were bare, he took your hand, gracefully dragged it across his face, you though he was just being wierd but

*crack*

You saw yourself, faintly, kind of an angelic white in the air, as opposed to the dark black you saw just minutes ago.

But there you were, well half of you, draped across his body laying in the same place as you just were.

Youre forced to watch, he's violating you, in every way the word can be defined, you hear him whisper,

,,you're my lady, you taste so good"

,,such a pleasure for this to be the last thing I see"

He's fully talking to himself, or rather your dead body.

,,you're wishing you would've said yes now, don't you? Or maybe ran away."

He chuckled, he chuckled at himself.

You couldn't help but let your mind wonder to a time when your life wasn't this, half eaten, half dead.

Something snapped in him, instead of his easygoing way just a second ago, he looks in your dead eyes and yells

,, fuck you want from me? Why the fuck are you lookin at me like that."

As if he doesn't know.

*Open the goddamn door! We have you surrounded, motherfucker*

,,fuck it, Blaow"

A/n: hii......hello....hope you don't hate me now....so erm this was heavily inspired by Sarah by Tyler the creator, idk what drove me to write this but yeah🤷‍♀️ first and probably last time writing this kinda shit. REQUEST MORE NORMAL STUFF PLEASE IM IN NEED !!!!

[bbyseok]

the final conclusion of this post, where your boyfriend gojo satoru always starts floating because of his powers whenever you kiss him…

some time in your second or third year, satoru got ahold of his powers and no longer floats up into the air after you bestow him a kiss on the lips. it’s a funny endeavor that you’ll miss, but it did make your make out sessions a whole lot easier.

it’s years later.

he’s older now—you both are; your seemingly carefree high school days are long behind you now, but the two of you still find yourselves at jujutsu high as teachers.

gojo satoru couldn’t ask for a better partner than you to help him navigate his dream in supporting a new generation of sorcerers, and he gets along with his students very well (so he says).

your life is far from perfect… plagued by dangerous curses, riddled with the higher ups’ stupidity, getting through every day not knowing what could happen next—but it’s enough for you, especially with satoru at your side.

but it seems like it’s not quite enough for satoru.

it’s some time past midnight.

even after all this time, gojo still craves those stupid, overly sweet candies and late night snack runs. old habits die hard apparently.

he claims that it keeps your love life spontaneous, and who are you to deny him?

“‘toru…” you groan, rubbing at your eyes groggily as he tugs you along.

you’re clad in one of gojo’s hoodies that thrown over you in his haste, and it’s much too big on you with your hands that are drowning in the arm sleeves. (but for the record, you look like the epitome of perfection in your boyfriend’s eyes like this.)

but the snowy-haired man pays little attention to your weak protests, his boyish laugh being carried on the evening breeze.

it’s a fond sound you’ll never tire of as he says, “come on, sweetheart! i promise i’ll get you whatever you want.”

he always does.

and after you’ve secured snacks and whatever gojo had been craving for, you’re back outside. but you only take a few steps when it strikes you that this place seems somewhat… familiar.

the artificial light glows strongly from the convenience store, paired with the glistening moonlight pouring down from the night sky. it’s simple and pretty, but you’re distracted by the way it highlights satoru’s eyes.

this is the very same place where you and satoru had your first kiss.

it’s been a while since you’ve both been here—life is like that. the lights and windows have been altered in appearance, and the building itself has aged… but it’s obvious that it’s still the same place.

“satoru?” you sputter out, surprised.

he merely grins at you, his head tilting to the side bashfully with his snowy bangs falling over his eyes. “i never forgot about this store,” he confesses, glancing at it briefly.

your gaze softens, following his gaze. “me either.”

gojo grabs ahold of one of your hands, his thumb gently tracing over the lines of your knuckles as he meets your stare again. “you know, i think i fell in love with you that night you kissed me here,” he tells you, followed by a quiet chuckle.

his words cause a flurry of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. he always manages to do that, even after all this time. “yeah?” you hum softly.

satoru nods. “mhm.” after a moment, he continues. “so i… i think it’s rather fitting that i do this here too.”

you blink at him. “..do what?”

with his free hand, gojo digs into his jacket pocket for something. there’s a permanent smile sketched onto his lips as he finds it, and then—

he slowly sinks down on to one knee.

there’s a ring held delicately in his fingers, glistening in the dark. your breath catches.

you hadn’t expected for him to propose to you like this—way past your bedtime next to the convenience store with a grocery bag full of candies in your hands but now that you think about it… it’s very gojo satoru for you.

at the look of bewilderment painted over your face, satoru laughs.

“well…” and he utters your name with a tenderness that you and only you know, “will you marry me?”

a wobbly laugh leaves you then, your heart caught in your throat. “—!? yes! yes, satoru, i’ll marry you.”

gojo slips the ring onto your finger with ease, like it had always belonged there. you immediately pull him up to his feet as the two of you eye how the gemstone glimmers against your skin.

when your eyes meet his crystalline blue ones, it feels like the stars are under your feet, meeting him halfway in a passionate kiss.

you’ve kissed him probably more than millions of times in this lifetime—through the good and the bad; some are somber, some are silly.

and tonight?

you’re— oh, you’re floating.

sure enough, satoru’s feet are off the floor due to his powers for old times’ sake, dragging you up with him in his arms, and it makes you giggle against his lips.

“‘toru?!!”

but gojo seems just as surprised and amused by this circumstance just as you are. you can feel the puff of his laughter, the kind of laughter that makes his shoulders shake.

“guess you still sweep me off my feet,” satoru cheekily remarks.

to which you only respond with a fond roll of your eyes—and another kiss that steals his breath away and keeps you both in the air.

oh, well—soon, he’ll be your husband that occasionally floats when you kiss him.

[kirain]

Your headcanon that Emmrich's right arm is always gloved because he has scars from when he tried to pull his parents out of a collapsed burning building is now OFFICIAL canon as far as I'm concerned. Can we please get a fic of Emmrich being self conscious about the scars? 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Oh wow, thank you! 🥺 Here you go, anon!

The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with an ominous orange glow that seemed to taunt Emmrich. Vae sat opposite of him, her hands resting in her lap as she waited. Though usually cheery and confident, Emmrich trembled ever so slightly, his head bowed as though the weight of the moment pressed heavily on his shoulders.

"All right," he whispered.

Vae reached out, her touch light as she took his gloved hand in hers. "I'll go slow," she said softly.

Despite her promise, Emmrich's breath hitched, his back tensing. As she began to slip off the ornate rings and bracelets that adorned his fingers and wrists with a gentle tug, his eyes squinted shut, his brow furrowed and twitching. When the last piece of jewelry fell into her palm, he flinched, and Vae paused, worry overtaking her curiosity.

Quickly, her hand moved to cup his cheek. "It's all right," she soothed, her thumb brushing against his skin. "You're all right."

His breathing steadied just enough for her to continue. Carefully, she removed the heavy bracer next, the worn leather scraping against the golden rim as it slid free.

"You're doing great," Vae praised as she set it down on the night stand. "We're almost there."

But when she reached for his glove, Emmrich suddenly pulled his arm away. "I'm sorry," he wheezed. "I can't."

Vae froze, her heart twisting at the anguish in his voice. His expression was one of shame, his face turning away from her. After a moment, she reached out again and guided him back.

"Emmrich," she said, her tone laden with compassion. "Look at me. Please." He hesitated, but opened his eyes to meet hers, the vulnerability in his gaze almost too much for her to bear. "I won't push you," she vowed. "But you need to know—nothing about you could ever disgust me."

He sighed deeply, shivering under the weight of his self-doubt. "The scars... they're unseemly," he warned, gripping his wrist so hard it caused Vae to wince. "It's already a miracle you want to be with an old codger like me. My body is—"

"Stop," Vae pressed, forcing a playful smirk. "You're in better shape than I am."

A weak chuckle escaped him, though it carried a deluge of sadness. For her, he was trying to push through, masking the pain beneath, but she realised the truth.

He wasn't ready.

"All right," she said, rising to her feet. "Let's get some dinner, then."

"Vae?"

"Sweetheart, I said I'm not going to push you. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, but you clearly are." She gestured to the door without a hint of malice or disappointment. "I can wait, however long it takes. For tonight, let's forget this and have a nice—"

Before she took a step, Emmrich's hand shot out, grasping her wrist with surprising persistence. "Wait," he begged, his voice cracking.

She turned back, startled to find him glaring up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, releasing his grip. "I do want to do this. It's just... I'm frightened it will change the way you see me."

Vae's expression softened, and she knelt before him, placing a tender hand on his knee. "Emmrich, do you really think so little of me?"

He froze, guilt flickering across his face. "What? No, of course not! I only meant—!"

His jaw clenched, the contradiction hitting him like a bolt of divine judgement. Vae was young, but she was a woman, and she had chosen to be with him—for better or worse. To assume she would leave him over his past, over some marred skin, was indeed an insult to her character.

But it wasn't true. He trusted her. However difficult, however loudly the voice in his head screamed that she'd recoil at the sight, he trusted her, and he wanted to prove it—even though he knew she'd never demand it. Slowly, he took a breath and offered his arm, the motion hesitant but resolute.

Vae gasped, staring up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm sure."

"All right, then. Stop me, if it's too much for you."

With the utmost care, Vae began to unbutton the long glove, her fingers working indulgently until the fabric slipped free. What lay beneath made her heart ache: a web of burn scars stretched across the top of Emmrich's hand, climbing up and around his forearm. The angry, uneven texture spoke of unimaginable pain and resilience.

"Darling..."

There were so many things she wanted to say, but as the image of an innocent boy crying out for help flashed in her mind, all she could do was stare; not with disgust, but with sorrow for the suffering he had endured.

But Emmrich misunderstood her silence, and his incessant need to fill the quiet overwhelmed him. "It got pinned under debris," he explained, his voice shaking. "Burning rubble, when I tried to clear the wreckage for my parents. I know it's hideous. I have full mobility, but the epidermis never healed quite—"

Before he could finish, Vae leaned in and pressed her lips to the top of his discoloured knuckles. The simple act silenced him, his words catching in his throat.

When she pulled back, she hugged his arm to her chest, holding it like a precious artefact. "I love you, Emmrich," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Scars and all. They're a part of you, and they make you even more beautiful in my eyes."

He whimpered, then pulled her into a tight embrace, his scarred hand cradling her head. Though his reaction was unexpected, Vae smiled and leaned into his chest, her arms wrapping around him like a vice.

"Thank you," he sobbed, his scorched fingers quivering in her hair. "Thank you, my darling."

"You silly man," she moaned, her own eyes welling with tears. "You have nothing to thank me for."

In that moment, the pain Emmrich always seemed to feel disappeared, the weight lifted. His whole life, he'd seen those gruesome marks as a reminder of his failure, but Vae saw something else entirely.

A symbol of his devotion and bravery.

[yuechihua]

remember me as i am.

summary: When Harumasa asks for an unexpected favor, you accept, against your better judgement. The last thing you expected was to have to pretend to be his spouse at a doctor’s appointment.

notes: 4.5k words, author's notes, fake marriage, fake dating, ambiguous relationship/feelings, fluff with some light introspective sadness

“I need you to do me a favor.”

When Asaba Harumasa whispers those words to you across your shared desks at the Section Six office, hand cupped around his mouth for emphasis, eyes glittering with mischief, you can’t help but brace yourself for whatever ensuing trouble he’s going to drag you into.

“What’s the favor?” you respond evenly. “If it’s to convince Yanagi to accept your request for time off, I’m not going to do that.”

“It’s not that!” Harumasa insists. “But it’s about something that’s important for the well-being of Section Six.”

You glance around the room; Soukaku is doodling with crayons on some confidential reports, Miyabi has left for a meeting with the rest of the section chiefs (and you can guarantee that she isn’t paying any attention), and Yanagi is steadfastly working through a towering stack of papers on her desk, so high that you can barely make out the top of her head. No one is paying attention to the two of you.

“Well, what is it then?” you say, and Harumasa casts a furtive glance at Yanagi before leaning closer to you, bracing his elbow on your desk. He’s enjoying himself a little too much, you can’t help but feel, what with how his smile curls like a satisfied cat.

“We need to meet up on our day off, preferably in the morning and somewhere near Lumina Square,” he says conspiratorially. “It’s too risky to pull off here. But it’s important, partner, so make sure you’re not late.”

“If it’s something that’s important for Section Six,” you whisper, tilting your own head closer to the shell of his ear, “Maybe it’s something that we should bring up to the others. What is it? Some illicit venture into a Hollow? Should I call Phaenton, too?”

“There’s no need for all of that,” Harumasa says hastily. “You only need to bring yourself. Maybe a disguise,” he adds, “to avoid public notice. This is a confidential mission. I’m relying on you.”

You let out a small sigh. Visions of curling up on your couch tomorrow, browsing through books with a mug of warm, sweet tea vanish in front of your eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there. But you owe me for dragging me out on our only day off.”

“I’ll make it worth your time, I promise.” Harumasa has the audacity to wink at you, like you’ve agreed to some ridiculous, under-the-table deal. 

Maybe you have. It certainly feels like it when you drag yourself out of bed the next morning, donning sunglasses, a long, caramel-colored coat buttoned up to your neck, and pulling a hat low over your head to complete the look. You’re out the door and on the train to Lumina Square before ten minutes have passed.

You’re set to meet Harumasa at some nondescript corner of the square, an alley boxed in by towering buildings and mostly hidden from view. What does he have in store for you? Despite the playful attitude he had yesterday when asking you for help, there was also something serious underpinning his words, even as he tried to pass it off as a flight of fancy. Harumasa would never ask you for help unless it was something important. 

You’re certain that you’ll have to wait for Harumasa to show up a few minutes late, making some slap-fash excuse. To your surprise, he’s already waiting for you. You almost can’t recognize him at first. He’s forgone his usual headband; instead, he’s wearing a hoodie, a cap, and a facemask, slouching against the wall, staring aimlessly at the sky. 

“Harumasa?” you say.

At your voice, Harumasa immediately straightens, lifting himself off the wall. You can hear the smile in his voice, even if you can’t see it. “There you are!”

“You’re early,” you say. “I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

Harumasa slings a casual arm around your shoulder. “Well, I didn’t want to miss our date. But don’t let Yanagi know that I’m capable of showing up on time, okay?” 

“It’s not a date,” you say, lowering your sunglasses to give him an unimpressed stare, “It’s a mission. Or so you claim.”

“It is,” he says. “Come with me. I’ll show you our place of operations.”

Harumasa still has his arm around your shoulders, but you don’t shake him off as he leads you confidently through alleys and down back roads, avoiding the bustle of crowds in the main section of the city. The breeze is cool, the sunlight warm on your face againsr the winter’s chill.

Eventually, the two of you stop in front of a hospital, a towering construction of shining metal and glass reflecting squares of blue sky. People bustle in and out of the sliding front doors, letting out gusts of sharp, chemically scented air.

Harumasa is silent as he stares up at the building, his hat shading his eyes. You can’t make out his expression, but you lean your head on his shoulder, a brief, reassuring touch.

He seems to come back to himself, then, and Harumasa’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he resumes talking in a clear, casual voice, “So, this is where our mission is taking place. Here’s the gist of it: I need you to pretend to be my spouse.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he wheedles. “I’ve been avoiding coming here for a while, but they’re not taking my excuses anymore. And they wanted me to bring a family member over to verify some things.”

“You could have just said so from the beginning,” you say. “I was beginning to think you wanted us to infiltrate somewhere.”

“If you think about it, we technically are,” Harumasa muses. “Besides, isn’t it more fun if I tell you we’re on a mission, instead of just giving everything away? Also, this is necessary to Section Six; what are they going to do without their star Executive Officer?”

The arm around your shoulder is shaking imperceptibly; sometime during his words, his grip has tightened, just slightly, as if he’s clinging to you to keep from sliding down a cliff. The unspoken truths hover in the air: that you’re the only one in Section Six who knows about his Ether Regression Aptitude Syndrome, and that he can’t ask anyone else to help him for this.

“Why your spouse, though?” you say instead. “Why not just say I’m a distant relation? You could also just not specify what our relationship is.” 

“Because it’s more fun for me,” Harumasa replies. Typical.

Within the next few minutes, the two are checking in at the front desk after a brief wait, Harumasa wading through tedious paperwork and bureaucracy and health insurance forms with clipboards and pens that click more than necessary. 

“Make sure to tell the doctor I’m here with my spouse,” Harumasa emphasizes, tapping the clipboard with his pen. He slides his arm around you, drawing you closer to him, and you try to resist the urge to pull away and keep your face schooled in a neutral, pleasant expression.

“All right, Mr. Asaba,” the receptionist chirps. “He’ll be out to see you in a bit!”

The waiting room is filled with rows of yellow and white plastic chairs, carpeting worn by the tread of countless anxious patients, and stacks of old magazines on tables and televisions mounted on the walls playing a cheesy blockbuster with the voices muted. A bored child plays with the hospital’s block toys on the floor, his mother talks quietly into her phone in front of him, and an elderly man flips through a magazine, his cane resting on his lap.

You and Harumasa settle into your seats, side by side. In the space between, where your hands dangle, his knuckles brush against the back of your hand before he draws your hand into his. You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve somehow become his stress ball, something he needs to touch to ground himself. 

“Still holding up alright?” Harumasa whispers. “You cleared the first hurdle.”

“Maybe I should be asking you that,” you whisper back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m used to it.” At times like this, you wish you could see Harumasa’s mouth, because his eyes betray nothing. 

Still, when the receptionist finally calls out, “Asaba Harumasa, the doctor’s here to see you,” you don’t let go of Harumasa’s hand. The doctor is stocky and short, with tired, drooping eyes, and he frowns when he sees Harumasa.

The three of you start walking down the hall, the doctor setting a rapid pace as he lectures Harumasa. “You’ve been avoiding my calls for the past week. Do you know how hard it is to get in contact with you? Proper medical care requires consistency!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harumasa says without sounding sorry at all, but he seems more focused on swinging your joined hands together like a child on a swing set. 

In the doctor’s office, the two of you are finally separated as Harumasa perches on the examination table. You’re sitting in a guest chair lined up against the wall across from him. The doctor moves through standard physical procedures with a deft, practiced hand. Harumasa follows along easily, thoughtlessly, as if these processes are second nature: the lights shining in his eyes, the blood pressure cuff around his arm, the routine questions. 

However, whenever the doctor is distracted recording results or marking down Harumasa’s answers, Harumasa will pull down his mask and make faces at you, to which you’ll respond with a roll of your eyes or your own exaggerated expressions of annoyance. 

“Have you been resting well?” the doctor asks sternly, turning back around just as the two of you quickly settle into more typical expressions. “You’re not pushing yourself at work, I hope?”

“I haven’t,” Harumasa says, with wide eyes. 

“Hmpth.” The doctor turns to you. “Well? Is he being truthful? As his spouse, I trust you’ll be honest for the sake of his health.” Behind the doctor’s back, Harumasa strikes you with an expression of mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows dramatically. It’s almost enough to make you laugh, but you control the tremor of your lips. 

“He hasn’t been pushing himself hard at all,” you say smoothly. “If anything, I think my husband has been resting a little too well.”

“All right. And your medications, Mr. Asaba? Have you been taking them properly?”

“Right as instructed, every morning and night,” Harumasa says. “My lovely spouse would know. They’ve seen me dutifully take all of them.”

“He has,” you verify. From what you know, anyways, Harumasa never misses a dosage. 

The doctor peppers Harumasa with more health-related questions and logs down all his answers. It’s over before you know it, and Harumasa leaps off the table as soon as the doctor puts away his clipboard. 

“I’ve missed you, cutie,” he says, throwing his arms around you like you haven’t seen him in months, snuggling up to you as the doctor watches with a weary expression. 

“The two of you get along well,” he says stoically.

“Oh, we do,” Harumasa chirps. 

“Make sure to make a follow-up appointment, Mr. Asaba. Your health appears stable, and your symptoms haven’t worsened.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” you supply, shooting a quick, withering glance at Harumasa, who only gives you a pleading expression in return. “He won’t be late to the next appointment.”

“I appreciate that, Mx…?” the doctor trails off questioningly.

“Mx. Asaba,” Harumasa interjects. “That’s their name.”

“That’s right,” you say. “Thank you for your time today.”

Harumasa wraps his arm around your waist, giving the doctor a lazy wave, and then the two of you are through the door, down the hall, and out of the hospital. Once you’re a street away, Harumasa finally speaks. 

“You were excellent there, Mx. Asaba,” Harumasa says. 

“Of course I was. Though you don’t need to call me that.”

“Why? I think it has a nice ring to it,” he muses. “Mx. Asaba and Mr. Asaba.”

“I was serious about what I said back there, you know,” you say. “You need to make your follow-up appointment soon. And you should try to show up to it on time.”

“You’re so strict. What if I need you to come with me again to feel better?”

“Then just tell me when, and where,” you say. “If you need me there, then I’ll be there, no matter what.” 

A brief flicker of surprise lights across his face, before it smooths out into his usual relaxed smile. “You’re soooo good to me, Mx. Asaba. Since you went out of your way today to help me with such a confidential mission, let me treat you to some food!” 

“I suppose that’s what a good spouse should do,” you say. 

Harumasa’s arm is still around your waist, but you can’t bring yourself to shake it off as he enthusiastically guides you to whatever restaurant he has in mind. His grip is casual, loose enough that you could shrug it off if you really want to. But if you do, then he’d never pull close to you like again.

Harumasa is attentive in that way. If you set a line, then he would never cross it. All his jokes feel like a casual calculation of the distance between the two of you. How far is he allowed to go? How much are you willing to put up with? What’s the boundary of your relationship? 

It’s like he’s waiting for rejection, offering you the chance to push away from him in a way that would make it easier for both of you. The way he touches you is akin to possession, but from a man who’s afraid to say he deserves to call you his.

Yet, if you push a little too close, more than he’s comfortable with, then he’ll run away like a skittish cat, afraid your affection will turn to boredom or cruelty. You’ve been with him long enough to understand this. So you’ll play along with his jokes, his little white little lies and deceptions, if it’s the only way he’ll let you stay close to him.

It’s a date, or a confidential mission, or whatever excuse Harumasa wants to use. What a complicated, beloved partner you have.

“We’re here,” Harumasa says. You’re at a ramen shop, with low stalls pulled up the counter, the simmering heat and steam from the kitchen feeling like a miniature summer. Thankfully, it’s empty, but your disguises ensure that neither your nor Harumasa’s fans will bother you for pictures and autographs in either case. 

“Order whatever you want,” he says, and you pick up the laminated menu, browsing through the various options. “Oh, wait. Pose for a second.”

Harumasa pulls out his phone, opening the camera, and aims it in your direction. You make a quick peace sign, menu held aloft in your other hand, and the shutter snaps. “What’s that for?”

“You looked nice,” he says. “I’ll send it to you later.”

“I didn’t realize you liked photography.”

“It’s a good way to preserve things that are fleeting, but important to you,” he says. “Moments that won’t last, people that might leave. Things like that.”

“Are you planning on divorcing me already?” you ask, propping your chin on your hand, peering at him over the top of your sunglasses. 

Harumasa places a hand over his heart. “Me? Never.”

The two of you place an order for ramen, and it doesn’t take long for the noodles to arrive. It’s simple, but delicious: hearty, flavorful broth, bamboo shoots, seaweed, fish cakes, slices of charred, fatty pork, and an egg with a jammy yolk.

Neither of you talk as you sit in silence, slurping noodles and drinking spoonfuls of broth. It’s been a while since you’ve gone out for a meal like this, and even longer since you did so with someone that wasn’t some sort of business partner or official whose good graces you need to stay in. 

You glance up with a mouthful of noodles to find Harumasa watching you, chopsticks in hand, a small smile on his face, as if he’s never seen anything so charming, his own ramen forgotten. Your face burns for reasons you don’t want to identify; you’re only thankful he doesn’t ask for another picture.

Harumasa lets out a sigh of appreciation when he’s done, placing his chopsticks neatly over his finished bowl. “Soukaku once cleared out almost all the noodles in this place, did you know that? I’ve been meaning to go ever since she told me.”

“Did it match your expectations?”

“I don’t normally like heavy food, but this time, I didn’t mind it,” he says. “Or maybe it’s because you looked like you enjoyed it a lot. It made me appreciate this bowl more.”

“Smooth-talker,” you say. “If you’re done, should we head back–”

“Wait, there’s somewhere else we should go,” Harumasa interrupts, holding up a hand. “We need dessert after a meal, don’t you think?”

“Really? A dessert? What are you thinking of getting?” you ask.

“There’s a popular drink shop around here. They serve milk tea in these cute little Bangboo shaped cups,” Harumasa begins. “I thought it might be fun to check it out.” 

“I thought you hated sweet things,” you supply. The two of you stand, and you smooth down your coat as Harumasa adjusts his facemask. You’re ambling down the street again, but this time, you loop your arm through his, pulling him close. It’s an effortless gesture, and it’s startling how easy it is to press so close to him.

“Well, you don’t,” he returns. “And it’s a popular date spot too. Can’t I take my lovely spouse out some more?”

You bump him with your hip. There’s no need to keep up your pretense anymore. There’s no one else here to listen to your lies. Both of you know this, but you can’t bring yourself to state the obvious. If you point out the script, then the curtain will fall and the play will end, your fragile happiness disappearing as the actors take a final bow. “Sure, if you keep paying.” 

The two of you end up in front of an inconspicuous milk tea shop. There’s no outdoor or indoor seating, but there is a counter and a blackboard with the menu chalked in, alongside doodles of smiling Bangboo holding milk tea on the side. A tired salesgirl stands in front, her expression at odds with her bubblegum pink uniform. There’s a few teenagers milling nearby, hands cupped around their milk tea and conversing in giggles.

Harumasa tilts his head as he looks at the menu, hanging above the two of you. “They sell iced coffee here,” he muses. “I thought this was a milk tea place.”

“They probably want to offer a variety of drinks for people who might not like milk tea,” you supply. 

“What are you getting?”

“The Bangboo special milk tea,” you say immediately. “It’s their speciality, and it comes with a Bangboo shaped cup. If it’s cute, I might take it home and wash it so I can reuse it”

He eyes you with amusement as the two of you approach the counter, where Harumasa slides his card across the counter. You make a note to treat him out to dinner at some point; as much as you tease, it wouldn’t sit right with you if you didn’t return the favor. “One iced espresso and a Bangboo special milk tea for me and my spouse, please.”

“Got it.” The salesgirl doesn’t bat an eye as Harumasa leans against you, his eyes crinkling at the corners like a pleased cat.

It doesn’t take long for your drinks to arrive. Your milk tea is in the shape of a Bangboo’s head, and topped with a pile of jellies over delicately set tiers of differing flavors. You take a sip, and you’re flooded with a creamy, milky sweetness.

Harumasa, who hasn’t even taken a sip of his espresso yet, looks amused as he watches you. “Let me try some of yours.”

“You won’t like it,” you protest, but Harumasa is already pulling down his face mask and leaning towards you. You raise your drink to let him take a quick sip.

He licks his top lip in thoughtful contemplation. “Way too sweet.”

“I told you. Now give me some of yours,” you say. “It’s only fair.” 

He obliges without protest, tilting his straw towards you. You take a quick sip, but it’s cold and bitter. You wrinkle your nose; you’re no stranger to coffee, especially when shifts run late into the night, but you still like to add creamer and sugar to take the edge off. 

“Coffee is an acquired taste for true adults,” Harumasa says when he sees your expression. “Maybe I’m just a bit more mature than you.”

“Sweetness is also an acquired taste,” you quip. “It’s good to learn to enjoy the sweet things in life.”

“Maybe it is. Oh, wait. Before you finish your drink. Let’s take another picture.” Harumasa pulls out his phone again, and you don’t protest as he raises it and angles it down towards the two of you. You raise your cup, and Harumasa lopes his arm around yours, locking the two of you together.  

With a few press of his thumb, he’s done, and lowers the phone for your inspection. You examine yourself the same way a stranger might; the two of you huddled up together, Harumasa’s cheeks red from the cold, your lips drawn into a smile, looking almost like the married couple you’re pretending to be. 

“You look cute as usual,” Harumasa comments. “But it makes me look bad. I’ve got to stop taking pictures with you.” 

“That’s not my fault,” you protest. 

“Of course it isn’t. You can’t help being the cutest person in the world.” 

You’re saved from thinking up a response that won’t betray your own embarrassment by the curious giggles of the teenagers across from you. They keep glancing furtively from you to Harumasa, hands cupped over their mouths. You can hear whispers of “Section Six” and “celebrities” which doesn’t bode well for your current anonymity. 

Swiftly, you grab Harumasa’s hand and start pulling him away from the cafe, down the streets of Lumina Square. The winter sun has started to droop in the sky, painting the world in a vivid, melting, yolky light. Laughter drifts around you from people lost in their own worlds. 

You’re not sure where you’re going, only certain on heading away from anyone who can recognize you. Harumasa follows along gamely, your willing accomplice.

You fly up a flight of stairs and you’re suddenly on the walkway above the streets, the city stretching out below you, buildings stacked like decadent cakes, people little figurines trotting carelessly by. 

You’re far away from everyone else now, cocooned in your own world. Harumasa’s fingers squeezes yours playfully, and suddenly you’re aware of how his hand feels in yours, warm skin and calluses from his bow and reassuringly slender fingers wrapped around your own. 

You drop his hand, finally, and take a sip of your own drink, which is sweet, so sweet, as Harumasa walks up to the railing and braces his elbow against the metal. 

“You’ve been taking a lot of pictures of me today,” you say. 

“I want to treasure every moment we have together,” Harumasa says, without turning. A cool breeze stirs, sending his hair fluttering, his clothes rippling. 

He’s unfair when he talks like this, the tenderness in his voice making your heart ache over the inevitable future, a predetermined ending. Like he’ll slip through your fingers as easily as water at any moment.

You pull out your phone, swipe to your camera, and raise it to frame Harumasa in the center, backlit by the glow of the sun and the tart light from the windows of buildings around you. 

“Look over here,” you call, and Harumasa turns. He’s beautiful, so beautiful it hurts. “Strike a pose.” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking a picture?” he asks. 

“I want to remember you,” you say. “Forever.” 

Harumasa tilts his head back. “Me?” 

“You’re not the only one who wants to cherish every moment we spend together.” 

Harumasa slowly pulls down his face mask, and you can finally see his smile, more brilliant than the sun behind him, flooding through your nerves and filling every part of you with a warm light. 

You press your phone’s camera shutter, once, twice, immortalizing Harumasa for as long as you can. You lower your phone, and join him at the railing, looking down below at the peace you’ve both fought so hard to protect. 

The world is filled with such endless cruelty and stunning beauty in equal measure. And yet, it’s the only world you have. You tap your fingers against the railing, a nonsensical song. 

“For your next appointment, maybe we should try a different restaurant when you’re done,” you say. “And we can walk around and take more pictures. There’s a few art installations around.” 

“You sure you want to come back with me? You’ll have to pretend to be Mx. Asaba again, you know.” 

“I don’t mind,” you murmur. “It has a nice ring to it.” 

“If you talk like that, you’ll make me want to make it official…. Of course, I’m kidding,” he adds before the words can linger for too long. 

“Have you thought about getting married?” you ask.

“I couldn’t do that to someone,” he responds lightly. “Besides, it’d be bad for PR. You know how intense our fan clubs can get.”

Of course, you understand. Marriage is an alien thought for a job where you risk your life everyday fighting against Ethereals and venturing into Hollows. You barely have enough time for yourself after long shifts and overtime and late nights, ready to be called into action at the slightest emergency. Could you bear to leave behind someone you love under the circumstances? Could they bear waiting and worrying for you? You would never be able to provide them any form of normalcy.

“Leaving someone behind like that… I don’t think I could do it. Or ask them to understand why I can’t give them an ordinary life,” you say. 

“Right, right. I wouldn’t want to make my partner cry,” he says. “I knew you would get it.”

His eyes gleam, two precious pieces of gold. Of course. Neither of you are capable of an ordinary relationship. Whatever the two of you have right now, whatever form you let it take, can’t be named. Something will break if you try. 

Carefully, delicately, you lean your head against his shoulder. He stiffens only momentarily before relaxing, a silent affirmation of your presence. Below, cars rush by, the misty glow of streetlights winking into life as the sky darkens.

“I’ll let you know when I have my next appointment,” he says, voice carrying like the wind.

“All right. I’ll be sure to make the time for you, Mr. Asaba.”

He laughs, a low, soft sound. “Thank you, Mx. Asaba. I knew I could rely on you.”

And it’s nice, like this. For just a while longer, you can forget anything that’s happened before, or anything that might happen in the future. Right now, it’s just you, and him, together. 

[naughtyneganjdm]

Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 6

Summary: Tommy visits with Y/N and asks her not to give up on Joel just yet. Attempting to get Joel's attention, Y/N does something to make a fool of herself, but it does indeed get Joel's attention.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/159622975

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Making Out, Severely Touch Starved Joel, Naked Cuddling (kinda), some light breast play, etc.

Notes: I promise to update this faster now. Thank you to everyone that actually took the time to comment on the last chapter. It made me feel much better about things. I can't tell you how much even a small comment helps! If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

Last night? It was nothing like the night before. Falling asleep was hard. All Y/N could think about was Joel. What was sad was that this was a man that she had only known for a few days. Yet? The things he said to her and the way he acted? It affected her more than she expected it to. There was a reason Joel hid behind this mean and cold exterior and she realized that. But it also didn’t stop her from being upset by the things that he said to her.

Her day spent with Joel was incredible. It was different than what she was used to and it was something she very much enjoyed. When she was cuddled up in bed with Joel, he felt like someone she had known for a lifetime. No one had ever made her relax and feel as safe with them as Joel had that night. Unfortunately that feeling was short lived because of the things he had said to her before he left her last night. 

Most of the night was sleepless for her with her lying awake thinking about everything Joel said about her. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. She was looking for something to prove that life was still worth living. For so long she had been missing that one thing to keep fighting for. Maybe she was clinging onto Joel too quickly and it would be hard for someone like him to handle.

A lot of her sleep was broken and by the time she officially woke up early in the morning, she decided to pack her things. It wasn’t like she had much to begin with, so that didn’t make it hard for her to do. Tommy had requested her to give him twenty-four hours’ notice when she was leaving so she went downstairs to registration. When she got there it was someone she had yet to meet, so she just left Tommy a note about how she would be leaving tomorrow. She hadn’t gotten a plane ticket yet, but she was sure that she could get something out of town. Even if it took a few flights to get back home.

There was a lot of pent-up energy that she had lingering inside of her, so she threw something relaxed on and went downstairs to the gym area of the inn. Thankfully, no one was down there. It wasn’t the biggest gym she had ever seen in a hotel. In fact, it was very small, but it also had a room connected to it that was around the same size with two mini inground hot tubs in it. It was cozy and quaint for her. For someone else it may have not been enough. Deep down she wondered if many of the guests really ever came down here. It was way too clean in her opinion and the whole time she was down there, no one ever joined her.

With how unbusy this place was, she was getting the hint that there weren’t a lot of guests that were staying there right now. And if they were? It was only to have a place to sleep so they could spend the rest of the day with their family. She was probably the one person that spent this much time in the inn. Then again, that’s what most people did on trips. Took an adventure around the places they were vacationing. Most of them weren’t like her, spending most of their time trapped up inside. 

Although, this place still seemed to get its money from the restaurant and bar that it had. It was smart adding those to the inn. It made sure that they always had a steady income, even on the days where it wasn’t busy at the inn.

God, that’s how boring she was. With the extra time she had while working out, she was thinking about how Tommy and Joel could afford to keep this place running. And truthfully, the rest of her day wasn’t going to be any more interesting. The plans for today were to finish her workout, take a shower, sit down hopefully to find a plane ticket home, get something to eat and then go to bed early. So that way she would be prepared for the full day of traveling she had ahead of her.

Right now she was finishing up her run on one of the two treadmills that they had in the small gym at the inn. To stay focused, she put in her noise cancelling earphones and worked to get out all of that negative energy that she had building up inside of her throughout the night. This was better than letting her intrusive thoughts eat away at her all day with the things that Joel had said to her lingering inside of her mind.

A small amount of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It wasn’t anything too big, but she could see it in the mirror paneled wall that was beside her. Taking a quick look over her shoulder she realized that someone was sitting on the lifting bench that was at the center of the room and it startled her, “Fucking hell!”

Immediately, the person that was sitting there jumped and toppled backwards onto the floor hitting it hard. Their legs were still hanging over the side of the lifting bench and it had her reaching out to quickly hit the stop button on the treadmill. Hopping down from it, she pulled her earphones out hearing the pained sound flooding the air. Shoving her earphones into her pocket, she moved over toward the center of the room to see that it was Tommy staring up at her from the ground. Helping him to unhook his legs from the bench, she did her best to allow him time to unhurriedly pull himself up from the floor.

“Tommy? What the hell were you doing?” she wrapped her arm around him, helping him to get to his feet. A grunt escaped him as she motioned him to take a seat on the bench again. There was a vibrant red color that flooded into his face expressing how embarrassed he was over the whole situation. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, it was quite the opposite actually. I actually came down here and started talking to you. Didn’t understand why you weren’t responding. Then I saw them earphones you were wearing and realized you couldn’t hear a word of it,” Tommy informed her, throwing his hand up in the direction that she had been running on the treadmill. “Since I didn’t want to scare you, I sat down here and waited until you were done. Clearly that was a mistake because not only did I scare you, but you also startled the hell out of me because I was looking at my phone when you yelled.”

An amused chuckle escaped her drawing out even more color from Tommy. Covering her mouth with her hand, her intentions were not to embarrass him, but she couldn’t help but laugh with the situation. Something in Tommy’s eyes changed when he realized he no longer had his phone. Spotting it on the floor, Tommy grunted and stretched out his body in attempts to grab a hold of it. Really he should have just gotten up from the bench since it was just a little too far out of his reach, but he was being stubborn dragging it toward him with just his fingertips. Once he got a hold of it, he pulled himself back up into the seated position he was in before.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tommy explained, shoving his phone into the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing. Searching for something else in another one of his pockets, Tommy pulled something out to reveal the note that she had left for him earlier. Waving it about had her looking away from him. “What’s this Y/N?”

“The twenty-four-hour notice that you asked for,” she thought it was fairly obvious what the note was and the look that Tommy gave her showed her that he realized that. “When I came here you asked me to tell you when I was leaving and I’m telling you. I’m going to hopefully get a plane home tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that,” Tommy exclaimed, shaking his head repeatedly. Even though she didn’t mean to, a scoff fell from her throat. Folding her arms out in front of her chest, she waited for Tommy’s explanation. “I’m not trying to tell you what you can and cannot do. There is just a storm that is starting tonight and it’s supposed to last for three days. If you don’t believe me, you can look on your phone with your weather app. I promise you no plane is gonna wanna be flying out of Jackson with how the weather is gonna be.”

Hearing that had the color draining from her face. Doing as he suggested, she pulled her phone out from her pocket and confirmed exactly what he was telling her. Frustration flooded her veins. Well, now she was stuck here and her original plans would not work. By how upset she was about the information, Tommy could sense that she was completely determined to leave tomorrow which worried him.

“While we’re also on the topic of reasons why you shouldn’t leave,” Tommy sounded nervous in the way he started to speak up again. Standing slowly from the bench, he winced when there was a tug in his back. Something ached from the fall he took earlier. Because she was a doctor, he could see the look on her face immediately changing when he started to rub at his lower back. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need me to look at you?” she offered since it was technically her fault that he fell and that kind of thing was also her job.

“I’m already ashamed enough as it is,” Tommy half smiled, shaking his head at the offer. Falling was enough to make him feel like an idiot, but if he hurt himself from falling? That would only make it worse. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stretch it out.”

Brushing his fingers through his long hair, Tommy focused on looking normal not wanting to feel foolish about hurting himself like he did, “Tomorrow, with the snow, Joel and I are going with Maria’s family to one of the local resorts. Some friends are coming too. We were looking to spend the day there. People typically have fun going there and I wanted to ask you if you’d come with us. You’d get to see one of the biggest draws of Jackson.”

“That’s not going to work,” she rejected his offer, her hands dropping down at her sides. While it was nice that he was trying to include her in something again, there was no way that it would actually happen. “Because I’m afraid of heights and I don’t like skiing.”

“I remember you saying that,” Tommy seemed persistent with whatever he was about to continue on with. “But this resort? It’s huge. And it’s not just skiing. Maria is still coming with us because there are other things to do. With her being pregnant, you know I wouldn’t let her ski. That would just be stupid. Skiing and snowboarding are only some of the things that you can do. They have this winter coaster that is there which is really cool. Gondola rides. Tubing. Places to eat and just hang out. Maria and I have talked it out. We want you there with us.” 

“Tommy, you know how much I like the both of you,” she started, guilt eating away at her with the idea that she was sticking to her decision with it being no, “but Joel? He wants nothing to do with me. So, while I appreciate the offer, I’m going to have to turn you down. Because that makes this whole thing kind of impossible.”

“I see,” Tommy frowned, folding his arms out in front of his chest. Instead of just accepting her answer, he took a moment to think things out and sighed loudly. “I was kinda hoping that he spent the night with you here.”

“You haven’t talked to him?” she was bewildered to hear that, her chest aching when she thought about the night before. With a single shake of his head Tommy answered the question for her. Tommy’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he lowered his head. Emotions were still flooding over from last night into this morning. And she didn’t blame Tommy for being upset. “I take it he’s not here?”

“He had today off,” Tommy replied back, his body language suddenly becoming very uncomfortable. “He always takes this day off every week. But I assumed that the two of you were still together after everything last night.”

“No, your brother and I didn’t spend much longer together after you last had seen us,” she enlightened Tommy to the fact that they split ways not long after leaving the bar. “He walked me to the inn and let me know that I was just a stranger that meant nothing to him. A stranger he really didn’t like much to begin with.”

“So that’s why you left me this,” Tommy suddenly understood why she had decided to go home and leave the note for him. Pushing the note back into his pocket he could see that she was uncomfortable talking about Joel. “You can’t take that to heart. He didn’t mean it. I’ve seen you with my brother and you bring out something I haven’t seen in him in a very long time.”

“Severe anger?” she let out a hesitant laugh, her body tensing up when she considered all the times Joel had slung personal attacks at her since she had gotten here. Tommy lowered back down onto the bench and stared up at her with his big brown eyes. “Tommy, your brother doesn’t like me. I was just the first person to show interest in him and he confused being sex deprived with something more.”

“Now if Joel said that, that’s just him being an asshole to try to push you away,” Tommy insisted with a loud sigh, burying his head into his hand disappointed that his brother would even say something like that. “My brother does everything he can to push people away. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy and when someone starts to make him feel good, he always sabotages himself. It’s just…it’s who he is.”

“He said a lot of awful things last night before leaving me here,” she claimed, letting Tommy in on what happened. “I realize you think something positive was going on between us, but it was a fluke. Just like Joel said. Your brother said he wasn’t emotionally capable of being with me. Or doing…whatever we were doing.”

“Y’know what? How about the two of us go upstairs? We can grab some cider and donuts for us. Maybe we can go up to your room and talk for a while?” Tommy offered, his jaw flexing realizing that it was a lot to ask from someone who didn’t even know him for that long.

“If you and your family keep giving me free things you are going to go out of business,” she considered after all the gifts that his family had been giving her over the last few days. “While I appreciate it, I’m the last person that needs free things.”

“I doubt that, but…” Tommy stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants when he did it. “We actually give people free cider and donuts every morning during the winter. So, it’s not really me giving you anything that we wouldn’t normally give our guests.”

“Oh,” her face flushed over with color, embarrassment flooding into her features. “Then yeah. We can do that.”

Waving him forward, she followed Tommy up the stairs where they grabbed themselves something and headed up toward her room. When they got in, she motioned him to take a seat on the couch and she sat down at the opposite end. Both of them were quiet and it seemed like they were both waiting for the other one to talk.

“Something happened after you told Joel that you and Maria were having a baby,” she blurt out feeling embarrassed with the way that Tommy gazed over at her. “Joel told me that it was none of my business, but I know that the way he reacted was not normal. I wanted to apologize for him, but Joel was right. I have only been here for a few days and I can’t step into a family situation that I know nothing about.”

“I know why my brother reacted the way he did,” Tommy paused to consider and think what he was going to tell her. “I just was hoping that he would have a different reaction to it than he actually did. Sadly, the way he responded was the way that I thought he would. That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone about the baby until after the holidays. I knew that he wouldn’t respond in a positive way.”

“That’s not normal Tommy,” she decided after taking some time to think about what Tommy said. Even though she liked Joel, that was an asshole way to respond to the fact that your brother was going to have a baby with the woman that he loved. “People don’t usually act like that.”

“My family isn’t…normal,” Tommy frowned, setting the cup of cider that he had down on one of the coasters that was set up on the coffee table. Shoving the rest of the donut that he had into his mouth, it was then that he realized the bite was probably too big. With big eyes, Y/N smirked as he chewed very uncomfortably showing that he was stressed. With a loud swallow, Tommy grunted and she took a tiny sip of her cider. “Trust me, if you knew things…you would understand.”

“Are these things I’m not allowed to know?” she was curious what these things were. It wasn’t the first time she heard about negative things toward Joel.

“I can’t tell you because they aren’t my life experiences to share. I was part of them, but if I told you and Joel found out,” Tommy paused, sucking in a sharp breath of air, shaking his head at the idea of Joel being angry with him. “He wouldn’t want me to tell anyone. When we moved here, Joel wanted to leave his past behind. But the problem is? Joel’s past defines who he is completely. Joel never truly left his past behind.”

What could she say to that? There were no hints as to what was part of Joel’s past or why Joel was acting the way he was. It was just something that Tommy expected from him.

“My brother is a good man. I know that it may not seem like that, but Joel is and has always been a very good man. He was always putting others before himself. Especially when it came to me. Joel has been taking care of me my whole life,” Tommy expressed to her, placing his hand in over the center of his chest to show sincerity in what he was saying. “Joel had to take care of me, even when we were kids. Joel had to grow up fast and I took a very long time to grow up. And that was hard on Joel. Our parents passed away when we were young and Joel had to raise me. I made a lot of mistakes growing up and he was there to deal with what came afterwards.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” she had a hard time believing that because Tommy seemed like such a straight laced overall good guy.

“I had a hard time finding my place when I was young,” Tommy admitted, thinking back on his younger years. “I wanted to save the world. I just didn’t realize the toll that it would take on me and the ones I loved. I am the way that I am now because I found love again. But Joel? Joel has suffered through so much pain. More pain than a man should have to endure. And I’m surprised he survived because I don’t know if I would have.”

Hearing that broke her heart, but she didn’t know how she could possibly help Joel or even begin to understand if Tommy wouldn’t tell her, “Joel was happy for a while. Even though he went through a lot there was one thing in his life that balanced him. Made him realize life was special and worth living. And then something terrible happened. And since then? My brother has been a broken man. It wasn’t until you came around that I saw any sense of happiness in my brother.”

A silence followed with the lump in her throat growing bigger. Guilt was growing inside of her and her throat felt dry the further she thought about what Tommy was saying.

“That’s why I’m here begging you to give Joel a chance,” Tommy pled with her, holding his hands together in a way that made him feel pathetic with his face growing hot. “I know it’s been only a few days, but I think you feel it too. I see the way the two of you look at one another. Something happened between the two of you that just clicked. And while my brother is putting up a wall to protect himself and everyone else, he’s hurting himself in return. You? You I think are the only person capable of letting my brother be happy again.”

“Tommy, I’m just a stranger,” she recalled what Joel had said, her body tense when she took in all the information that Tommy was giving her.

“Are you though?” Tommy retorted, his head tipping from side to side with his dark eyes narrowing. “I know that it’s only been a few days, but the things we’ve talked about? I think you’re more comfortable with my family than you are pretty much anyone else. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” she waved her hand about knowing that statement to be true. A big part of her life she kept secret for a reason, but she was very open with the Miller family about her past. “But I can’t help Joel if he doesn’t want to be around me. Yes, I like your brother…”

“Obviously,” Tommy added with a bounce of his eyebrows that brought some color into her face. There were some positions that Tommy had caught her in that she wasn’t very proud of. “Honey, anyone with eyes can see that when the two of you are together, there are sparks.”

“I just don’t know how to be around your brother if he keeps pushing me away and wants to be mean,” she defended her thoughts with Tommy exhaling loudly. “Yesterday was amazing. I don’t remember the last time I was that comfortable with someone Tommy. And then he just turned hateful all over again. With the snap of his fingers, the sweet guy that was eager to take care of me was shitting all over me. Metaphorically speaking.”

“I know that and I’m sorry he’s like that,” Tommy apologized, but she didn’t think that was fair for him to have to do for Joel so she lifted her hands to stop him from going any further.

“Tommy, you’re his brother and when you told him that you were going to be a father—his reaction? It was very poor,” she recognized that the negative behavior went way beyond the things that were going on with her. “If that’s the way he responds to being an uncle…?”

“Listen, I wish I could tell you, but I promise you it makes sense even if you don’t think it would,” Tommy reasoned with her, wincing at the idea of what Joel had done the night before. “My brother will come around eventually. It’s just going to take time. I was unfortunately very drunk last night so I was emotional and didn’t understand his response. I was also hopeful with you around that maybe he wouldn’t be like that.”

“How would you respond to someone who was saying what you are to me?” she pushed Tommy for answers since she didn’t know what Tommy wanted her to say.

“I would think they were nuts,” Tommy knew that this was a lot, but he shrugged his shoulders and sighed loudly. “But I think you’re the one thing that can save my brother from himself. And I know he likes you. I see it in the way that he looks at you. I haven’t seen my brother look that way in a very long time. It was nice to see that part of him again.”

“How can I save someone when I’m barely holding on myself?” she lowered her head, her throat tensing up with her admitting to Tommy that she may have not had the strength to do what he wanted of her. “Joel told me he wasn’t emotionally capable of being the person to help me get to be where I needed to be. You know I’m not right Tommy.”

“You and my brother are so much alike,” Tommy reached out to place his hands in over hers in a friendly manner to show her support. “I’m just asking you to try for just a while longer with him. I think there is something there between the two of you. And I think he can help you just as much as you could help him.”

Biting back on her lip, she felt emotional but she didn’t know why. Just giving Tommy a small nod, she pat her hand in over his and shrugged, “So do you agree to staying here for a little while longer? You’ll join us tomorrow?”

“Tommy, I don’t think I would have a choice either way with leaving,” she pointed to her phone reminding him that there was a snowstorm coming that was dangerous as it was. “I hate flying to begin with and the last thing I want to do is fly in a snowstorm like the one that is coming to this town. So I’m here whether I want to be or not.”

“While that’s true…” Tommy started, sucking in a sharp breath of air, “Something tells me that my brother is one of the things that is making you want to stay.”

Yes and no. Because his brother was the main reason she wanted to leave this morning too.

“I’ll go work on something downstairs for a few. How about you get dressed in something warm and meet me in about thirty minutes at the front. I want to show you something,” Tommy instructed her with a curious expression flooding out over her features. “Trust me.”

She didn’t know why, but she listened to Tommy. Allowing him to leave her room, she cleaned up enough and wore something warm. When he asked her to meet him, she was there and he was already waiting for her.

“So,” she noticed that they were quiet while walking wherever Tommy was taking her. “Were you hoping you would have a daughter or a son?”

“I reckon I’d be happy with either,” Tommy confessed with a weak smile, his head tipping to the side slightly so he could stare out at her when they walked. “I never thought I’d be a dad so it’s all very exciting for me. But also horrifying at the same time.”

“I think you two are going to make great parents,” she decided in an assuring tone hoping to stress to Tommy that everything would be okay. “I have only known you a few days and I can tell with how you treat me you’re going to be great parents.”

“You’re a bit different than a screaming baby,” Tommy teased her with a wrinkle of his nose getting her to smile.

“Well, that depends on the day,” she joked back, nudging him playfully with her arm liking that the banter between them was still innocent and sincere.

“If things don’t work out,” Tommy was quiet in the way he began speaking to her again, his face twisting with contemplation if he should say what he was about to. “If you and my brother have issues, Maria and I really like you. We’d like to keep in contact with you if you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t I be biased then when I left my review of the place? Being friends with the owners and all,” she smirked, amused that really the only people she managed to speak to and get close to were the owners of the inn she was staying at. The laugh Tommy let out seemed uncomfortable and amused at the same time. “I’m just screwing with you. Of course. Truthfully? I like the two of you more than most people I know.”

“That’s good,” Tommy noted with a half-smile, “because with my brother I almost assumed you would leave a shitty review of the place.”

“You level things out,” she promised, reaching out to pat at the center of his shoulders provoking Tommy to let out a deep rumble of laughter. “Although, I do have to wonder where you are taking me because I’m fucking freezing with this wind.”

“Just a few more steps,” Tommy motioned ahead of them, grabbing her to stop her when they stepped in front of a storefront. “Look into that window right there.”

“’Where are we?” she went to look up at what the store was, but Tommy instead just pushed her carefully forward toward the window. Doing as she was instructed, she leaned in trying to gaze through the window that was reflecting too much light from the outside with how bright it was. When her eyes adjusted she could see that Joel was sitting with a group of kids. They all had acoustic guitars and it was evident that Joel was attempting to teach them how to play. “You wanted me to see this?”

“My brother is a good man,” Tommy insisted, moving in beside her to watch Joel set his guitar down to head over toward one of the children that were in his class to help adjust their fingers to play. “Little rough around the edges, but his heart is good. It’s just hard for him to believe that he deserves any sort of happiness in his life. The man would give you the shirt off his back even if it was the last thing that he had. He’s just severely protective of those he loves but also good at self-sabotaging himself because he’s not used to having something good in his life.”

“You’re really trying to hook me and your brother up,” she noticed how hard Tommy was pushing her to see the good in Joel. “You realize that, right?”

“Actually, I was furious with my brother yesterday morning when he walked out of your room because I thought he made a mistake that was fueled by alcohol,” Tommy thought back to when he found Joel leaving Y/N’s suite. “Now I know there is something more. You bring out something in him and as his little brother? I just want to see him happy.”

Not wanting to embarrass or upset Joel, they didn’t stay too long. Both her and Tommy had lunch together where instead of focusing on Joel, they just got to know each other better as friends. And after they did? She went back to the inn and got cleaned up. A lot of what they talked about weighed heavy on her. The fact that all she could do was think about Joel Miller told her that there was something inside of her that longed for him. She hadn’t felt this way about someone in a very long time.

There was something that struck realization into her while she lounged around her room all day. The conversation she had with Joel the night before when they were alone together in that hallway. They made plans for something that was very unlikely to happen tonight. Something dirty. But considering this town was small and Joel had been at The Tipsy Bison every day she had been there so far? She might have been lucky and he’d be there again.

Getting ready, she knew that this was ridiculous, but she pulled out the only dress she brought with her which was a tight-fitting black dress that was something in the past she would have worn to a club to get attention. It was freezing outside, so this was definitely a decision that might have been a bad one. But she didn’t care. Putting on her heavy coat that she had bought in town here over the dress felt strange. It wasn’t a long walk, but damn did she regret wearing this as soon as she stepped outside. Admittedly? Usually she wouldn’t rush, but since it was already snowing, the walk to The Tipsy Bison was rather quick, kickstarting her heart to race. By the time she reached the bar, once she entered she almost regretted it. This was a stupid idea.

People were staring at her when she entered. And she didn’t blame them. She had dressed up nice, done her make up and was out to impress if she had spotted Joel Miller. There was a sense of disappointment that flooded her veins when she looked to the table that Joel had mentioned to her the night before. It was empty. Maybe she should have just left.

That was when she took another look at the bar and felt a rush flood through her veins realizing that Joel was slouched over at the end of the bar holding onto a glass that she assumed had whiskey in it. Clearing her throat, she confidently pulled the material from her jacket down her body. Doing so immediately drew the attention of the bartender that was at the time pouring Joel’s drink. Folding her coat over her arm, she stood there for a moment longer. Noticing that the bartender must have been gawking, Joel turned on his seat with his brown eyes growing big when he saw her standing there in the dress. Making sure to lock eyes with Joel, she gave him an emotionless expression before heading over toward the booth that he had mentioned.

Taking a seat, she waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Joel’s face was scrunching up in confusion with what she was doing. But pretty quickly the bartender that had ignored her the previous days was stumbling through the bar eager to come over to get a drink order from her. Not wanting to make an ass of herself, she ordered a juice because the last thing she wanted to do was get drunk and end up home with the wrong person.

Pulling out her phone, she acted like she was checking something, but out of her peripherals was watching Joel’s reaction toward her. What was disappointing is that he didn’t get up. He just turned around back toward the bar, but every so often he would look over his shoulder at her to see what she was doing.

Mostly she was getting the stares from men that she didn’t want to get the attention of. Especially the one that Joel had terrified the night before. Considering no one was coming up to her, Joel was likely right. That guy was a big mouth and let everyone know what Joel said so people were too afraid to go over to her.

When she got her drink, she noticed that Joel was staring at her again over his shoulder and she teasingly stroked her fingers at the glass that was before her. Eventually Joel smirked, shook his head and turned away from her again.

“Wow,” she muttered under her breath starting to feel embarrassed at just how much she was failing in this situation. With how desperately Joel spoke to her yesterday about the scenario they set up, she thought doing what he had told her last night would have drawn him to her. The dress she was wearing was tight, clinging to her every curve. She was wearing something with a skirt just like he had asked her to. Seeing him blow her off like that just made her know how stupid this really was. Huffing out, she slid out from the booth and started to put her jacket on again.

Grabbing her juice, she headed over toward the bar hearing a crashing sound with how quickly the bartender came over toward her as she stepped in beside Joel who tensed up with her near. It was interesting how quickly this bartender went from ignoring her the first day to falling over himself to get to her.

“Something wrong with your drink?” the bartender wondered with her slamming the glass down in front of Joel who stiffened beside her, his back straightening when he tipped his head just enough to look back at her. His eyebrows bounced up and they locked eyes. “Can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m leaving, but he can have this,” she declared, sliding the drink in closer to Joel whose dark eyes narrowed when she leaned in closer to him. More than anything she wanted to lash out at him, but she knew that she couldn’t and shouldn’t in front of these people. “Enjoy the drink.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel spoke quietly, his expression barely changing only infuriating her more. She felt the eyes of the people around them watching and she had to have looked ridiculous. Frowning, she shook her head and turned on her heel heading to leave.

“This was so dumb,” she confessed once she reached the outside, cussing out when she almost slid because of the snow that had started to fall. Noticing that town square was close to empty, instead of heading directly back to the inn she went across the street to see the tree. Whenever things were hard for her in New York City she would go to the Rockefeller tree and she would find some kind of inspiration there. So she was hoping the tree here would have the same kind of effect for her too. Tommy begged her to stay for Joel, but with the way Joel responded to her, she felt like that was a stupid decision. Once she reached the tree, the heavy amounts of snow caught her foot causing her to slip and fall back into the snow. Thankfully there was enough snow to catch her fall causing her to let out a frustrated laugh. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Staring up toward the sky, she didn’t have the will power to get up right now. So she just stayed there with her heart pounding inside of her chest. It was freezing and she’d likely make herself sick, but she was fed up with everything right now. There was a burning at her cheeks from the wind and a prickling sensation in her legs from being bare and laying in the snow. Yeah, she certainly succeeded in making herself out to be an idiot tonight.

The sound of the snow crunching under someone’s footsteps was heard, but she didn’t bother to look. A moment later, Joel’s curious brown eyes were staring down at her. His right eyebrow arched, the crease at the bridge of his nose growing deeper.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Joel asked, his southern drawl raspier than normal when he tipped his head slightly. Having Joel standing over her like that did feel ridiculous, but she couldn’t find herself thinking of an answer fast enough.

“I’m making snow angels. Isn’t that obvious?” she waved her arms about causing Joel to smirk at her antics. With a slow nod, Joel looked around the area before carefully lowering down in beside her in the snow. Astonishment flooded her body with her turning her head to the side to see that Joel was looking up into the sky like she had been. “What are you doing?”

“Well if people see you like that, they are going to think you’re crazy,” Joel alerted her, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with her. “So this way? They’ll think we’re crazy together.”

Hearing that had her heart skipping a beat. Returning her stare back to the sky above them, she could tell that Joel was getting more comfortable beside her in the snow. Resting his hands in over her abdomen while he laid there, Joel kept quiet. 

“You fell, didn’t you?” Joel asked simply causing her to let out a tremoring exhale.

“Yes. Yes I did,” she was honest, hearing the tiny chuckle from Joel. If she wasn’t freezing her ass off right now, she might have found this funny too.

Silence returned and it started to feel uncomfortable so she decided to break it, “I saw you earlier.”

“And I saw you earlier,” Joel countered, confusing her in that moment because she was fairly certain that he hadn’t seen her and Tommy watching him teach those children. “The performance was a bit dramatic if you ask me.”

“Thank you, but I wasn’t talking about that,” she scoffed when she understood that he was talking about what just happened in the bar with them together moments earlier. “I was actually talking about earlier today. You teaching those children how to play the guitar. It was cute.”

“Hmmm…” Joel hummed, his jaw flexing with her confession to him. His eyelashes fluttered when he turned his head to look out at her again. Originally, she thought he might have been embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I told you sometimes I could be really cute.”

“And sometimes you can be a huge asshole,” she was short with him having him nod his head as if he agreed with her. Instead of fighting back with her, he just took her comment with a grain of salt. “You should teach me how to play before I leave.”

“This world?” Joel spouted off eliciting her to push up onto her hands to stare out at him. Mirroring her, Joel sat up in the snow and held his hand out to direct her attention to what she was wearing. “Because if you lay in the snow much longer like that I can’t do much of anything.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. By now, she couldn’t feel much of anything with her legs and she knew that was a bad thing. Tommy told her that there was going to be a storm tonight. She should have realized wearing this dress would be a bad idea. Even if it wasn’t much of a walk from the inn to the bar that the Miller family often attended.

“My legs are numb,” she admitted with a frown eliciting a low rumble of a groan from Joel. Watching him digging into the inside of his jacket, she knew that he was right. She needed to get out of this snow. Digging something out of his jacket, Joel motioned her forward and she gave him an odd expression. “What?”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Joel instructed, reaching out to pull his winter hat down in over her head. After that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick pair of work gloves. A rush of embarrassment flooded through her with Joel gesturing her to hold her hands up. Doing as she was told, Joel pulled the gloves down over her hands making sure that they would stay. Right now she felt like a child that was being taken care of. Tugging her jacket together better, Joel grunted and repositioned himself. “Hold tight.”

“To what?” she gasped out with Joel hooking his arms under her firmly lifting her up from the snow. Not wanting to fall, she was quick to wrap her arms around the back of Joel’s neck with him readjusting her in his arms when he got to his feet. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Your legs are numb,” Joel reminded her nodding over toward her legs that sincerely did ache. Resting her head in against Joel’s shoulder, she was amazed with how strong he genuinely was. By the time that he was carrying her out of town square, Joel was right. People were looking at them like they were insane.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked noticing that they were headed in the opposite direction of the inn. Grunting, Joel adjusted her in his arms in a way that seemed to be more comfortable for him. “Joel?!”

“You need to warm up properly. And considering you pulled this stunt in an attempt to impress me, I’m taking you to my home. It’s not that far away,” Joel responded, his southern accent growing stronger while he continued down the street in the direction of the homes that were in Jackson. “We’ll get you into proper clothes, sit you down in front of the fireplace to warm up and I’ll get something warm into you.”

Pausing to consider what he just had said had her snickering against the side of his neck and he huffed, “Be mature for ten seconds. You know I mean a drink.”

“Suddenly you care?” she tried to gather herself from continuing to tease Joel. Yeah, it was immature, but the things that Joel had said to her yesterday had eaten away at her all night and into today. Honestly? She knew she shouldn’t have been complaining because her legs ached and she wondered if she would have even been able to walk back to the inn with how sore she was. Tipping her head back enough, there was an amused expression over Joel’s features and it made her frown. “I’m just saying. Yesterday you weren’t very nice to me.”

“What did you say I was occasionally? An asshole?” Joel confirmed with her, his breathing creating a visible mist in the air with how cold it actually was. Giving him a tiny nod, she curled her arms tighter around him with him turning another corner. “It’s more than occasionally. But I’m also on occasion a gentleman.”

Even though she wanted to fight him, she truthfully liked being in his arms and just lowered her head again. They were quiet when he made it to a home that she assumed was his with his last name painted on the mailbox. Moving up the steps to the walkway that led to his home, Joel’s face scrunched up and he laughed, “Although, I do have to ask you. You’re a smart person. What led you to think it was smart wearing this in this kind of temperature?”

“I uh…” she clung tighter to Joel with him moving up the steps to his home. When he reached the door, Joel carefully lowered her down for a moment with one of his arms still wrapped around her to brace her weight against him. Digging into his pockets, he managed to pull out his keys. Struggling to get the door open, he gave her a nervous smile fumbling with it until it opened. Grunting out, he picked her up in his arms again after he put the keys back into his pocket. “Joel!”

“Calm down, I’ve got you,” he hushed her, kicking the door shut with his heel acting as if her worrying about the idea of him dropping her was ridiculous. Walking throughout his house in the dark seemed to be easy for him. Before she knew what was happening, she was being set down on his couch carefully before he walked through the room to turn the light on. “Let’s get the fire started for you…”

Watching him from the couch she knew that she was a tremoring mess. Probably looking ridiculous with his hat and gloves on. Joel was right. It was too fucking cold to pull a stunt like that. And she knew better. She was a doctor after all. For a few minutes Joel worked with the fireplace until he got it working. Swiftly, he moved one of his seats closer to the fire and headed over toward the couch again.

“I can stand up,” she went to stop him, but he didn’t allow her when he picked her up with ease. Being cautious with the way he sat her down, she was amazed at how gentle he was being with her. Especially after last night. The warmth of the fire felt nice with Joel reaching to pull the gloves from her hands. Tossing the gloves aside, he grabbed a hold of her hands and rubbed at them to gather some warmth. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he shook his head, dropping his hands down to rub at her legs that were undoubtedly the coldest part of her. It wasn’t something that was sexual, he really was doing his best just to warm her up. The gesture was very sweet and she felt a lump growing in her throat watching him. “Let me go get you something to wear. I did the laundry today, so it should be fresh. I promise.”

“You don’t have to…” before she could finish Joel had already walked out of the living room leaving her alone to herself sitting in front of the fire.

The time alone allowed her to gaze upon Joel’s home for the first time. Except for the tree that was in the corner of the room left unplugged, everything was extraordinarily average. Joel’s living room was clean, everything had a place and the only thing that she noticed was the paintings on the wall reminded her a lot of the inn. It was too bad she didn’t have the strength to walk around and explore but her body was exactly where it wanted to be. Enjoying the warmth of the fireplace that Joel had sat her near. The sound of footsteps returning was heard and she looked toward the area Joel walked away to see him rounding the corner.

“I grabbed you some sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie that I had in there,” Joel moved before her, holding out the clothes that he had grabbed for her. Accepting them, she lowered them down into her lap with Joel nervously looking around his living room. Messing his fingers through his hair, Joel stumbled through the living room and plugged the tree in to give her more light. Unlike the inn where the Christmas tree was extravagant, this was very plain. It just had lights on it with no decorations whatsoever. “I’ll turn the television on so you have some background noise while I make you something warm. Would you prefer some coffee or hot chocolate? I’m a coffee guy. Big fan of coffee. But if it’s too late for that…”

“Coffee is fine,” she cut him off, not wanting to be much of a bother with things.

“You can change in here. I’ll stay in the kitchen for a few just to make sure I don’t see anything,” Joel promised snapping his fingers. Clicking his tongue against the top of his mouth, a rush of color flooded into Joel’s face and he seemed to be embarrassed. Turning on his heel, he headed back toward what she assumed was the kitchen leaving her there. Waiting for a moment, she shakily stood up from the chair and worked her dress off. Putting the clothes on that he gave her to the best of her ability, she folded up the dress and then lowered down into the chair again. “Permission to come in?”

Looking to the entrance of the room, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Joel holding his hand dramatically over his eyes while taking big steps into the room. Holding out a pair of socks drew her eyes to them with Joel huffing, “I thought you might need these. Cold feet is never a good feeling.”

“You can uncover your eyes,” she assured him with Joel dropping his hand down at his side. Even though he was in fact being a gentleman, she really wouldn’t have cared if he had seen her naked. Strangely, she was that comfortable with Joel. “Thank you for these.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel watched her closely, holding his hand out for her dress. “I’ll hang that up to dry if you would like.”

Handing off the dress, she was impressed with how good Joel was taking care of her. Whatever Joel had turned on the television before he left appeared to be some kind of Christmas romance film. And it brought a smile to her wondering if Joel often watched these type of movies since this was the channel that was left on.

“Y’know what I still can’t wrap my mind around?” Joel’s voice made her jump when he returned to the living room with two mugs in his hands. Unhurriedly handing hers off to her, Joel made sure she had a good hold of it before releasing it. Cupping the mug in her hands, she was using it mainly just to warm herself up. “That you somehow thought it was a smart idea to wear all that just to get my attention.”

“It worked,” she reminded him with Joel taking a moment to think that over. Tipping his head from side to side, his bottom lip curled before he nodded. “Didn’t it?”

“Oh, it worked. I just thought it was ridiculous,” Joel informed her, leaning his arm against the wall that was beside the fireplace. Bringing his mug up to his lips, Joel took what sounded like an annoyingly loud slurp of his coffee and she wondered if he did it on purpose. “The whole idea was to wear something inconspicuous so we could get away with it. Wearing that dress? You had the bartender exploding in his pants. All eyes were on you. We could have never done what we talked about. With your breasts being all perky and nice.”

“Perky and nice?” she chuckled at his description. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” Joel bobbed his head about with a tiny smirk tugging at his features. “You really thought coming into that bar today would get me to come over there and do the things we talked about last night?”

“It was worth a shot,” she thought aloud, turning her attention back toward the fire. Taking her first sip of the coffee, she knew that this was more so for the warmth.

“Why?” Joel muttered with a huff, his face scrunching up in disbelief. “I treated you like shit yesterday and you still wanted to do that with me?”

“I guess I’m kind of a moron,” she theorized, her eyebrows bouncing up provoking him to chuckle under his breath. Shifting uneasily in the seat that he had moved for her, her eyes finally looked up at him. “I unfortunately couldn’t get my mind off you all night. When you can’t stop thinking about someone you become pretty desperate to get their attention. Even if that means hurting yourself in the process. Falling in the snow was not part of the plan though, I promise you that.”

Stepping forward, Joel extended his hand to collect her jaw loosely between his rough fingertips, “Don’t ever hurt yourself for me again. I may be a dick, but I don’t wanna see you dead. You understand me? It doesn’t take much for you to catch my attention. You don’t have to risk your health in order to do it.”

“Would you have been as nice to me otherwise?” she interrogated him, getting his eyes to narrow almost immediately after. While it was a nice thing to hear, she doubted that Joel would have been so welcoming like this if she wouldn’t have been stupid. “See. You wouldn’t have.”

“Touché,” Joel grumbled, motioning her to wait. Setting his coffee down on the coffee table near the couch, Joel made his way over toward one of the closets to pull out a blanket for her. Heading back over, he was careful in the way he wrapped it around her and over her shoulders. “Good?”

Turning his head, the warmth of his breath lingered over hers and it made a shuddering exhale escape her lips. Not being able to form words, she just nodded with Joel tipping his head forward just enough to nuzzle his nose in against hers.

“Why did you do what you did last night? I don’t need to know that stuff with Tommy. I mean with me,” she wanted to know his reasoning with her heart skipping a beat at the closeness of him. “What did I do?”

“It wasn’t you,” Joel slurred, his cheek rubbing in against hers and with her free hand she instinctively started to stroke her fingers at the back of his neck. “What I said is true Y/N. I’m nothing good. I’m poison. The quicker you see that, the better.”

“This doesn’t feel like poison,” she noted placing a delicate kiss over the side of his face having him tense up before her. His body’s reactions to her drove her wild for this man. Every touch she gave him had him reacting, even if he didn’t want it to. It was involuntary, but he yearned for every delicate sweep of her fingers over his skin along with her kisses. “This actually feels really nice.”

“I’m no good for anyone,” Joel’s words vibrated against her cheek with him starting to pepper faint kisses there. This was an odd way to have such a serious conversation, but she liked it. “Especially someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she repeated, her eyelids heavy when she pulled back just enough to meet his chocolate brown eyes. Tracing her fingertips through the facial hair that covered his jawline made him suck in a sharp breath of air.

Lowering down onto his knees, the heat from Joel’s palm had her leaning into his touch with him caressing over her face, “Someone perfect. Someone delicate. Someone who deserves better than someone like me. I never know the right thing to say. I’m angry all the time. You don’t need that in your life.”

Dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, Joel’s breathing grew uneven with his eyes following the movement, “I don’t understand this. Whatever it is going on between us. We only just met, but I’m addicted to you.”

Kissing faintly at the pad of his thumb drew him in closer to her. There was a longing in his eyes that had a fire burning deep within her.

“Not just because you want to fuck me?” she recalled what he had said the night before evoking him to let out a raspy laugh.

“I won’t lie, I do desperately want to sleep with you,” Joel confessed with a grunt, his nose nuzzling in against hers again. Hearing that excited her. Especially since she had a yearning for him as well. “But that’s not the only reason I like you. I don’t know what it is, but when you touch me…even if it’s you touching my face…”

“You’re touch starved,” she heard the pant that he released with her dragging her hand across the side of his neck and up over his face. Cuddling his head into her touch, Joel’s lips parted and his long eyelashes fluttered to a close. “You are so beautiful.”

Hearing her call him beautiful made a tiny smile tug at his lips and she was certain he was thinking that was an odd way to describe a man like him, “Would you hold me?”

“Are you sure?” Joel confirmed with her, but it didn’t take long for her to nod. Setting aside the coffee he got for her, she stood up from the chair to have Joel lower down into it. Helping to lead her back into his lap, Joel managed to wrap them both up in the blanket with his arms wrapping around her to hold onto her. Nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck, Joel hummed as he placed tiny kisses there as well. “I’m a mess.”

“I know,” she agreed with him, an involuntary smile pressing in over her lips with her stroking her fingers through his dark messy hair. “But I am too.”

For a while she just sat in his arms, enjoying the way the fire worked to warm her up as well as the warmth of his body surrounding hers. At some point the television had drawn her attention and she saw that a love scene was on the screen.

“You know, no one has ever made love to me like that,” she commented seeing that the two characters were laying in front of a fireplace wrapped up in blankets. “In the movies, love scenes seem so perfect…”

“Movies are completely unrealistic,” Joel reminded her with a scoff, grunting with a laugh when she swatted at his chest. “I’m just saying. Love scenes are a fabricated lie that people use to make women swoon. To believe in something more. But no one has sex like that.”

“Well that’s a shame,” she suggested liking the way that Joel rubbed his cheek in against hers again with his facial hair scratching at her skin. “Women wait a lifetime for moments like that and it never happens.”

“That’s what the film industry does. Sets people up to be let down,” Joel hinted, pulling her in closer to him with a long sigh.

“You know,” she pulled her attention away from Joel for just a moment to look at Joel’s tree. “I’m surprised how bare your tree is. You barely have any decorations in here. Whereas at the inn? Everything is covered.”

“I told you that was more Tommy and Maria,” Joel stole a quick look back at his tree, grunting out at the sight of it. “Tommy put that up. He wanted me to have something for Christmas. It’s not really my thing. It brings back feelings for me that I don’t like having. I’m sure…I’m sure you understand.”

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I do understand why you feel the way you do,” she swept her thumb in over his jawline, getting his dark eyes to lock with hers. “Whatever happened Joel, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Joel frowned, turning in toward her hand to place a kiss over the center of her palm. Curling his finger in underneath her chin, Joel led her to him, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss. It was sweet, almost romantic. And by the time they separated her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. “I shouldn’t feel this way this fast.”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him, outstretching her fingers to trace in over the lines of his face. A loud exhaled escaped him and the way he looked at her took her breath away. “Joel? Do you think you could teach me how to play the guitar?”

“Right now? Is that what you want to do?” Joel’s head tipped back, lifting to grab a loose hold of her hand. Confirming with a nod, she felt Joel shifting her weight and she shakily stood to her feet. Taking care of the fireplace, Joel held his hand out to hers and tipped his head in the direction of his stairs. “You want me to carry you?”

“I think I can handle it,” she responded feeling silly that he had to carry her as much as he did already. Wiggling her legs, she could tell that they still were numb but she thought she would be good enough to move.

“Follow me,” he ordered, smirking when he held his hand out to hers. Without question, she hooked her fingers with his and he led her unhurriedly up the stairs. One thing she noticed about Joel’s house was a lot of it was covered in paintings and not so many photos. This could have been anyone’s home really. Reaching the second floor, she knew that this would be a place she’d love to explore just to get to have a better understanding of Joel. Leading her to one of the rooms, Joel kept a hold of her hand when he flicked the switch on for his office. “This is where I uh…make things.”

“Make things?” she looked around his work room not knowing where to look first. Several acoustic guitars were hanging on the wall. There were shelves with multiple carvings resting on them. Letting go of Joel’s hand she moved over toward them to inspect each one of them. Reaching for one of them, she took it off the shelf to observe it. The carving was a very detailed one of a grizzly bear standing on a large rock after catching a fish in its mouth. A few of the carvings were left unfinished, but this one? Everything was done along with the painting of it. And it was amazing. “You did this?”

“Yeah,” Joel stood at the center of the room, his hands in his pockets with his shoulders slouching forward. When she looked to him it seemed like he might have been embarrassed when she returned it and then reached for another one that he did. “I like to keep my mind busy. I look at pictures and then I uh, well I carve them.”

“These are amazing,” she applauded him on his work, setting them down and then moving over toward where the acoustic guitars were hanging. “And you make these as well?”

“I do,” Joel was quiet while she gazed upon his work. “Those are probably my favorite thing to make. When people ask me for one, I like to try to fit their personality to it. I told you I loved music growing up, so I’m drawn to that kind of stuff.”

“These are impressive Joel,” she continued to make her way around the room stopping at one of his work benches to look at the carving he was working on. It was partially done, but it was easy to tell that it was rodeo themed with a cowboy riding a horse that was on its back legs. “I could never do something like this.”

“Well, like I said…” Joel headed over toward the acoustic guitar that was at the corner of the room. Picking it up, Joel held it in his hands and headed over toward one of the seats to sit down. “You’re good with your hands. And I’m good with mine. Just in other ways.”

“No kidding,” she agreed with him hearing him starting to strum a few chords behind her while she took her time looking upon his next work bench where he obviously made his acoustic guitars. “This is impressive.”

“Mhmm…” Joel didn’t want to act like it was a big deal because it was something he just did in his spare time. It wasn’t like it was much of a big deal for him. After she felt like she had invaded his privacy enough, she reached for one of the chairs and pulled it before him. “Did you have any kind of music training when you were younger?”

“Nothing extensive,” she found herself in awe that Joel could just continue to play a tune like it was nothing while sharing a conversation with her. “How many songs do you know by heart?”

“Don’t know,” Joel slurred, his southern drawl growing deeper as she slid in closer to him. “Lots I reckon.”

“How do you remember them all?” she heard Joel easily change to a different recognizable song without even stumbling or having any problems at all.

“Do you have to look at an instruction manual every time you do a surgery?” Joel inquired, his right eyebrow arching drawing out a smirk from her. Shaking her head, Joel snickered to himself and sighed loudly. “Then I guess in the same way you don’t have to do that.”

“Will you sing for me?” she pushed remembering that Joel had told her that he wanted to be a singer when he was younger. “Please?”

“Nope,” he stuck to his guns, changing the tune again impressing her with how easily he seemed to do it. “I don’t sing in front of people.”

“You’re going to sing for me at some point,” she claimed, her head bobbing about causing Joel to snort and dramatically shake his head. “I’m going to hear that voice and you are going to want to play for me when you do.”

“Sorry, not gonna happen,” Joel refused once more eliciting a frustrated sound from her. “Even if you use that cute little frown on me, I won’t do it. I’ve already let you know too much as it is. You coming into my house? This? It’s a big deal.”

“Do you have to kill me now?” she mocked, her eyebrows bouncing up pulling out a raspy laugh from inside of him. Hearing him laugh like that had a warmth flooding throughout her body.

“I might,” Joel grumbled, his one dimple very prominent with the smile still over his lips. “Gotta keep my secrets, y’know?”

Resting her elbows on her knees, she lowered down to get comfortable while he played the guitar, “Tell you what? How about I make you one of my acoustic guitars to make up for my lack of singing around you. Would you like that?”

“You’d do that?” she seemed excited at the idea and he gave her a single nod appreciating that she seemed to want that. “That’d be awesome.”

“Okay then,” Joel stopped playing and stood up from the chair to move over to place the guitar in her hands. Watching her adjust it made him smirk and he immediately shook his head. “No, don’t hold it like that.”

Kneeling down in front of her, Joel took her hands to show her the proper way to hold onto the guitar. Really, she did her best to listen to Joel explaining things to her, but she was having issues. Distracted would be an understatement. Joel was going over the parts of the guitar with her, explaining things and she listened, but at the same time she was just enjoying being close to him.

By the time Joel was teaching her simple chords after grabbing her a guitar pick, she felt a chill running down her spine. Joel was standing behind her, his hands helping to move hers and she just liked having him near. For a while she did her best to focus and while she learned some things, having Joel’s head so close to hers drew her to look upon him.

“Everything okay?” Joel noticed that she was staring at him and he gave her a weak smile.

Not knowing exactly what to say, she lowered down the guitar and turned in her seat toward him, “Can I be honest with you?”

“You have been thus far. So I’d expect nothing else from you,” Joel reminded her noticing the uneasiness in her body when she looked down. “Hey?”

“You’re my favorite thing about this town,” she declared, her eyes lifting once more having Joel swallow down hard with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I thought of leaving tomorrow, but nothing inside of me wants to truly do that because I like spending time with you. Call me pathetic, call me what you want, but being around you? It just feels good.”

Dropping his stare to her lips, Joel’s breathing grew louder. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, Joel led her to him to steal another kiss from her. At first his kisses were gentle and delicate. Soft sweeps of his lips over hers led her to lean in closer to him. Kissing him felt incredible and it was addictive.

Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, Joel grabbed a hold of the guitar to set it aside carefully. Standing up had her following him moving from the chair eager to meet him in another passionate kiss that had him wrapping her up in his arms.

Picking her up had her gasping against his mouth as he stumbled over toward one of his free desks. Lowering her down on top of it, Joel growled with the way that she cupped his face. Tender strokes of her thumbs against the side of his face had his lips parting. Having her touching him had chills flooding down his spine. No one had this kind of effect on him. Especially not this fast.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Joel confessed, pressing his forehead to hers. A tremoring breath escaped his lips. And in that moment? She saw desperation in his eyes. The idea of her leaving actually upset him. Leaning into her touch, Joel knew that he craved to have her near him. How he felt for her? It was indescribable. “Please don’t run away because of me. I know I’m hard to care for…”

Brushing her fingers through his messy hair, she gazed up seeing just how emotionally broken Joel really was. Conflicting emotions flooded throughout Joel, but she could see that she meant something to him. What he needed was what Tommy said earlier. Someone who wouldn’t give up on him because he was too trapped in what he was used to. Which was torturing himself.

Hushing him, she leaned in to press faint kisses over his lips. Having him panic about her leaving was not her intentions. Sliding her hands down in over the sides of his neck, she lowered them even further and dragged the backs of her hands over the front of his chest. Starting to work open the buttons of his shirt had Joel’s breathing broken, his forehead pressing in against hers. Helping her, Joel managed to get his shirt down his body allowing it to fall at his feet on the floor. Almost immediately her hands were reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt working it from his body.

Grunting out, Joel lifted his arms aiding to get it off him. Dropping the t-shirt down on the ground, she lowered her stare to gaze upon his naked torso. It was the first time that she actually got to see him completely shirtless. And she wanted to take all of him in. Placing her hands gently in over the center of Joel’s chest had his lips parting with his eyelids growing heavy. Right now she wanted to learn all of him. Tracing her fingers along the lengths of his abdomen had him sucking in a sharp breath of air.

“I haven’t had someone touch me like this in a long time,” Joel reminded her of something he had said previously when they were fooling around. Watching her touch him, Joel licked his lips when she drew shapes down over the lengths of his body toward the softer part of his stomach under his bellybutton. “I’m sorry for the way I’m acting.”

“I like it,” she quieted him, shaking her head with Joel’s long eyelashes fluttering. While he was panicked, she was in awe of him. There was a vulnerability in him that was easy to pick up on with her tracing lines over his torso. Reaching his lower abdomen, it was then she finally noticed the significant scarring that was there. How she had missed this before blew her mind. Dragging her fingertips over the puckered flesh drew out a nervous sound from Joel. Shakily, he reached for her hands to stop her.

“Joel,” she shook her head, using her free hand to get him to relax. Sliding in closer to the edge of the table, she hovered her lips in over his. Even though he was uneasy with his body, she appreciated every part of him. “Your scars, mental or physical, they make you who you are. And who you are is beautiful.”

Releasing a tremoring breath, Joel’s fingers were fast to grab for the hoodie that he had given her. Quickly he helped her get it from her body much like she had done with him. Tossing it onto the floor with his shirts, Joel panted realizing that he was eager. Not hesitating in his movements, he grabbed a hold of her t-shirt next. Locking eyes with her, Joel could sense that she became nervous in that moment. Tugging the material up her body, Joel stopped at her arms. With a nod, she lifted her arms for him allowing him to pull it from her body. A long exhale escaped his throat when her breasts were revealed to him for the first time with a slight bounce from the movement. Dropping the t-shirt at his feet, Joel’s hands pressed faintly in over her sides while she sank her fingers into his hair.

“You are breathtaking,” Joel whispered, his thumbs sweeping at the area just below her ribcage. It had her arching in closer to him with his hands sliding further up to cup tenderly at the underside of her breasts. Whimpering at the sensation, she pulled Joel in closer to her having his forehead pressing against hers. Bringing their bodies closer together, Joel wrapped her up in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest with his nose nuzzling in against the side of her neck. The skin-to-skin contact felt amazing with both of them tracing the lengths of the others body with lazy, lingering strokes of their fingertips.

Joel wasn’t a very verbal lover, but the reaction of his body to hers was more than enough making her realize what he was feeling. Wet kisses were being pressed against her shoulder, the sensation of his facial hair scratching against her skin evoking shivers throughout her body.

“You are so beautiful,” Joel mirrored her sentiment with his mouth finding its way to her neck. Nipping at her flesh, Joel’s mouth started to trail a line in over her collarbone. Resting his head against her chest, Joel’s right hand caressed up over the front of her abdomen until his thumb came in direct contact with her nipple. Circling it faintly with the rough pad of his thumb, Joel groaned out with the sound she made when he did it. Dropping his head down, Joel’s mouth surrounded her breast dragging the length of his tongue across the flesh. Teasing his tongue around the small bud in circular motions, Joel heard her moaning out and the ache inside of his body grew larger. A firm tug of her fingers at his hair had him lifting his head back to meet her in a hungry kiss. Brushing his tongue against hers, Joel’s body started to tremble as her hands dropped down to start working open the belt in his jeans. Cupping her face firmly, Joel wanted to keep his eyes locked with hers as she worked open his pants.

Tugging at his jeans, she got his pants open and parted them causing Joel to step forward. Teasing her fingertips at his hips, she caressed at his sides and up over his body again. Leaning back, Joel looked down between the two of them. Sweeping his thumb in over her jawline had her leaning into his caress. In that moment she noticed something and reached for Joel’s wrist.

“Joel?” she seemed worried with her eyes centering in over his watch that was on his wrist. What had worried her was that the watch appeared to be broken with a crack over it. “Did we do this?”

“Don’t,” Joel warned, pulling back and away from her lowering his hand down at his side to keep her from looking at it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened,” she apologized assuming that they had done it with him carrying her over toward the table. “I can pay for that to get fixed and…”

“It’s been like that for a while,” Joel explained forcing himself to look away from her. Huffing out, Joel reached down to grab the t-shirt he had taken from her body and the hoodie. Holding them out toward her, Joel’s jaw flexed and he appeared angry almost immediately. Why was this happening again? “This was a bad idea. Get dressed. I’ll get you a ride back to the inn.”

“Joel?” she breathed out shocked at how quickly he turned on her with him grabbing his t-shirt to pull it back on. Hastily pulling the t-shirt she had in over her body, she was quick to follow Joel out of the room reaching to grab his wrist before he could leave. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. You did nothing,” Joel snapped at her getting a chill to run down her spine at how fast his attitude seemed to change when she noticed his broken watch. Some kind of switch had been flicked inside of him and that man that was desperate to be near her suddenly seemed to want to push her away again. “I just think it’s best for you to leave.”

“Stop,” her voice raised, hooking her fingers tighter around Joel’s wrist to force him from leaving. Pulling him back to her, she closed the distance between the two of them with her palm caressing in over the side of his face getting him to look at her. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and I won’t pretend that I understand but stop pushing me away from you.”

“I can’t do this,” Joel confessed with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat, a sense of sadness flooding throughout his features. Lifting her other hand, she caressed at the sides of his face having him whimpering.

“Can’t do what?” she tried to understand, being empathetic to whatever his situation was. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me Joel. Whatever is going on, I’ll understand it. We can work through it. I know what it feels like to be broken.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Joel stressed to her, lifting his hands to curl his fingers around her wrists to stroke his thumbs at her pulse points. Within time his expression softened, the lines in his face becoming less prominent. A broken breath escaped him and she realized that was his way of putting a wall up between them, but she was doing her best to break it down in whatever ways she could. “I told you…”

“You’re poison,” she repeated what he had said before, his body tremoring as she closed the distance between them. “But you see? As stupid as it sounds, I’m a doctor. And whatever you think is going to happen to me, it won’t.”

“It’s not just that,” Joel grunted, his body incredibly tense as he stood before her. “I don’t deserve to have anything good in my life. What I had before this…”

“Joel,” she hushed him noticing that he was starting to get worked up again. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. Resting her head against the center of his chest, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Having her near caused his heartbeat to go faster. “You don’t have to tell me what happened or what you are going through but stop pushing me away. Because I’m just going to keep coming back.”

After hearing her say that, Joel lowered his head and nestled his chin in over the top of her head. Wrapping her up in his arms, Joel let out a tremoring breath and she knew that he was loosening up to things, “There is something in you that heals a part of me. Things that I didn’t think I was capable of…”

Tipping her head back, she stared up into Joel’s dark eyes and shook her head, “let me do that for you.”

“I’m so broken,” Joel confessed with her hand sliding up to caress in over the center of his chest. “I’m no good.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she countered, reaching for his hand to place it in over the center of her chest. Joel’s dark eyes gazed between them with his body faintly shaking. “Because I see parts of you that I don’t even think you realize exist. Just let me help you.”

Emotions flooded through his face and without saying anything, Joel grabbed a hold of her hand leading her toward his bedroom. Laying down at the center of the bed had her carefully crawling in beside him with them facing each other.

Reaching for his hand, she hooked her fingers with his and Joel pressed his forehead up to hers. Silence surrounded them, but it was obvious things were weighing heavy on Joel’s mind, “There so much good to you Joel Miller. You just have to give yourself a chance to see.”

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3

[woozinhos]

i forgot have i send this yet or not.

but wonwoo idol and reader idol (solo artist), she was performing and wonwoo got turned on mid performance, and when she's done she fuck her so hard still wearing her stage outfit

(i'm sorry about my terrible grammar, english is my second language HEHEHEHE)

Notes: im going to be redoing my tag list as I’m gonna start to commit and tag you all will make the form later :)

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Smut below the cut

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The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers as you finished your performance, your body glistening with sweat. You took a bow, waving to the audience before exiting the stage and heading backstage. Wonwoo was waiting for you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"You were amazing out there," he said, his eyes raking over your body. You walked up to him, a smile on your face as you caught your breath. "Thank you," you replied, slightly out of breath from dancing. "Did you enjoy the show?" He pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to you, his gaze darkening as he got a better look at your outfit.

"Very much," he said, his voice low and husky. "Especially the outfit." He placed his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "You looked so sexy on stage, all those people watching you, but you're all mine." He pulled you closer to him, his body flush against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

"You're so possessive," you teased, knowing how much he hated it when others looked at you for too long. He growled softly, his grip on you tightening. "I have every right to be possessive when it comes to you," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine to look at, mine to touch, mine to have."

"And that outfit isn't helping," he added, his breath hot against your skin. He began to nibble on your earlobe, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, tracing the curves of your outfit. You shivered at his touch, your body responding to him immediately. "You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

“Let's get out of here," he said, his voice filled with urgency. He took your hand and led you towards his dressing room, not caring if anyone saw the two of you together. He pushed you inside and locked the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his body as he continued to attack your neck with kisses and bites. You let out a soft moan, tilting your head to give him better access. He smirked against your skin, loving the sounds you were making.

"You're so sensitive," he said, his hands moving down to your thighs, slowly lifting your skirt up. He looked down at your exposed thighs, his eyes darkening even more with lust."I want to rip this outfit off of you," he groaned, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. "But I want to see you wear it while I fuck you even more." He leaned in and bit down on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing it roughly. You let out a gasp as he pushed your skirt and panties aside, leaving you completely exposed. He smirked at your reaction, his fingers tracing your bare skin. "You're already so wet for me," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. He slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, teasing you and making you squirm.

"You're practically dripping," he said again, his finger now circling your clit. "So needy, so desperate for my touch."

"Do you want my cock, princess?" he asked, his finger now applying more pressure to your clit. "Tell me how badly you want it."

"Please," you whimpered, your voice shaky. "I want it so bad. I need it. I need you to fill me up and ruin me." His eyes darkened with desire at your pleading tone, his finger still rubbing circles on your clit. "Such a good girl, begging for me like that," he said, his free hand moving up to grip your chin. "You're going to get exactly what you want." He grabs the mic pack and throws it aside, not caring where it lands.

Without warning, he thrusts into you, burying himself deep inside you. You cry out as he enters you, your back arching against the wall. He holds you in place, his grip on your chin and hip tight as he starts to move, setting a rough pace from the start. "Fuck," he groans, his eyes fixated on your face as he watches your expression twist in pleasure. "You feel so tight and perfect around me." He begins to thrust harder, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper inside you.

"You were made for me," he growls, his words sending shivers down your spine. "Your body was made to take my cock and no one else's."

"Yes, baby," you moan, your words almost incoherent from the pleasure. "I'm yours, only yours." He smiles devilishly, loving how obedient you're being. "Good girl," he praises, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you admit that you belong to me over and over again." You repeat his words like a mantra, unable to think of anything else but the feeling of him claiming you.

"I belong to you," you say breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm your little plaything, your toy to use and control."

He throws his head back in pleasure, his hips snapping against yours with even more force. "That's right," he moans, his voice filled with dominance. "You're my toy, and I'm going to use you however I want." He can't stop looking at your body, admiring the way the outfit hugs your curves and accentuates your every move.

"I can't believe how good you look," he says, his eyes trailing over your chest, watching it bounce with each thrust. "I'm going to make sure this is the only thing you wear for me from now on."

"You're getting close, aren't you?" he says, his breath hot against your ear. He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit again, knowing exactly how to make you come undone. You moan loudly, your body tensing up as the pleasure builds up inside you.

"I can feel you clenching around me," he groans, his movements becoming sloppier as he nears his own climax. "You're going to cum on my cock, princess. I can feel it." You can barely speak now, your words coming out as gasps and moans. "Please, please let me cum," you beg, your nails scratching down his back. "I need to cum so badly, I can't hold it anymore." He smiles devilishly once again, satisfied with your begging.

"Cum for me then," he commands, his fingers continuing to work your clit in tight circles. "Let go and cum all over me." You let out a scream as you finally reach your climax, your body trembling with pleasure as you clench around him. He grunts as you cum, the feeling of you tightening around his cock pushing him over the edge as well. He moans loudly as he spills inside you, his hips stuttering as he rides out his orgasm. He leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily as he catches his breath.

He slowly pulls out of you, a mixture of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs. He gently kisses your forehead before picking you up and carrying you over to the nearest couch. He looks down at the mess on your thighs, a smirk forming on his face. "Look at the mess you made," he teases, his hand trailing up your leg. "You made such a big mess, and you're going to have to clean it up." Mingyu's loud banging on the door interrupts the moment, startling both you and him.

He sighs, annoyed by the interruption.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. "I guess I have to go." "Hurry up!" Mingyu shouts again, his voice even louder than before. "You're taking too long, and Wonwoo's about to go on!" You laugh at Mingyu's impatience, and he chuckles along with you.

"Looks like our fun is cut short," he says, setting you down on the couch. "But I'll definitely be finishing this later." He kisses you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips against his. He holds your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. He pulls away from the kiss reluctantly, a soft smile on his face.

"Bye, princess," he says, looking at you one last time before turning to leave. "I'll see you after the performance."

[thecurioustale]

The same can also be said of the period that I think we are emerging out of, the "Internet Wild West" or whatever you want to call it. It's something that I and many others have been aware of as far back as the 1990s (and longer for some).

On the early Internet it was understood by all who gave thought to the matter that this wonderful, new, free world we had created and were now beginning to settle would only be able to go so far before it inevitably got tamed. There would be rules. There would be law. The Wild West analogy was very prominent for me.

Where I erred, personally, was twofold: First, and at a more face-value level, I erred in thinking that this taming would come in the form of external regulation by the government. That didn't happen; the government in the US has mostly not been functional in the 21st century on these matters, and has done almost nothing to regulate the Internet in this time. (The few relevant laws they did pass have mostly been dreadful.) Instead, law and order came to the Internet because a handful of companies took control of nearly the entirety of most people's experience as Internet users—i.e., through social media, e-commerce, and streaming services—and, by controlling these services, they control the user experience. The people running these companies are the ones who have brought order to the Internet, not legally but mechanically through the user experience and through the enforcement of their oppressive EULAs and Terms of Service. The Internet wasn't tamed by wise, Enlightenment principles. It was extruded into obedience through a horrifying abasement of human dignity, at the hands of "tech bros" who, in retrospect, are a hell of a lot stupider than most of us thought. Even the smart ones, it turns out, were stupid all along. Most of them, anyway. I was never a fan of Zuckerberg, Page, et al., but I admired what they built—and in my defense what they built was once promising and new. But I was stupid too to believe in it like I did. Or "young" maybe is the fairer word. Hell, maybe you could apply it of some of them as well.

On a more abstract level, I also erred in thinking that the taming of the Internet Wild West would result in a new era of the Internet that was not a clear step down from what it had been in the Wild West years—that the well-ordered future would merely be different. Maybe, with technological improvements, it would even be better! And in some ways it is better: We usually don't have videos getting stuck buffering anymore. Files download faster. Certain activities have become much more convenient (or possible at all), like managing payments and making purchases and having video calls. But, on the whole, the modern Internet use paradigm is way, WAY worse. Because it is dehumanizing, radicalizing, and disinformative. And I didn't expect that. I thought humanity had grown to be smarter than that. I was wrong.

Yes, though, to the OP's thesis: Times of change do not last. With the taming of the Internet we have built a world that is far worse than the one we built ourselves out of. Now we're going to be paying the consequences of that folly for a long time to come. I for one am meeting this new world by gradually becoming so sickened by much of the online experience that I am disengaging from it, presumably permanently. I am increasingly refusing to be a part of it. I flat-out would not be here on Tumblr today if I were not trying to build an audience for my creative work. Not that I don't enjoy plenty of what I see here, and Tumblr is honestly one of the least-offensive social media platforms, but the broader landscape of social media, and the way it has poisoned our society, disgusts me so much nowadays that I almost can't stand it on principle. The Internet had so much potential. And technically it still does, abandoned deep down. But I don't think I'll see most of that neglected potential realized in my lifetime, and it may never happen at all.

As far as the OP's point about the unrealism of fictional settings having "times of change" lasting for long periods of time, I don't care about that at all. If you want to do a Wild West setting that lasts a thousand years, go for it. Every story is allowed to have its gimmicks and its conceits. Yes, some stories concerned with realism, verisimilitude, and internal consistency would be restricted from depicting a transitional period as a long-lasting, "stable" period. (There's really no such thing as a "stable" period; there are only times when change is modest and repetitive enough to be gentle and familiar. Maybe there's some room to argue about this on the basis of the notion that the pace of change has increased steadily throughout human history as our population and technology have increased, but even that wouldn't really be able to make any claims about stability in the past three thousand years, and certainly not in the past fifteen hundred.) But most stories are not going to be encumbered by this limitation, and can do whatever they like.

There are certain very specific, unsustainable periods of history.

The Golden Age of Piracy lasted from the 1650s to the 1730s, and was really three different waves of piracy that all had their own specific causes and characters. My personal favorite has always been the post-Spanish Succession period, when a bunch of sailors and privateers were left unemployed and turned en masse to piracy since those were the skills they'd picked up during the war. This supply of pirates was obviously non-renewable.

The Wild West lasted between 1865 and 1895, depending on who you ask, not even a full human lifetime. It's a very narrow band of time, and of course it wasn't sustainable, there was only so much land to colonize.

There are lots of these times of change, conquest, colonization, and war, particularly in the last three hundred years. I always think they're interesting, mostly in how quickly the course of history moves on to some other relatively more steady state.

There's a thing that speculative fiction does where it stretches specific periods out to extremes, most notably with Medieval Stasis, but I think it's far funnier when applied to these tiny slices of history that have ballooned in the public consciousness. Either it takes heroic feats of worldbuilding to make it make sense, or everyone is just sort of okay with the idea of a Golden Age of Piracy that's implied to have lasted for a millennia.

[arixella]

Unspoken Words

╰┈➤ pairing: Shanks x female! reader

a/n: send request if you have any <3

summary: After a long and unexpected reunion with Shanks, the two of you share a quiet, intimate moment on the deck of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship, where Shanks finally confesses that, despite all the years and distance, he’s never stopped loving you.

wc: 900

contains: fluff, tiny angst

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as the sea lapped gently against the hull of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship. The sounds of the crew bustled in the background, but up on the deck, away from the ruckus, the air felt still, like the world had paused just for you two.

You hadn't expected to be here—on this ship, with him.

It had been years. Years of wondering, waiting, and hoping that one day you’d see him again. Shanks. The man who had left without a word, disappearing into the vast world, only to reappear like a distant memory brought to life. You had kept the promise you'd made to yourself: to move on. Life had taken you down its own winding roads, yet deep down, a part of you had always carried him with you.

Now, you stood beside him once more. Your heart ached with emotions you couldn’t quite sort out. His fiery red hair caught the light of the fading sun, and that trademark grin played across his lips, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made you wonder just how much time had really passed.

"You’re quieter than I remember," Shanks chuckled, turning his gaze toward you.

You blinked, breaking from your thoughts. "I guess I’m still processing this whole... reunion."

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath. "I didn't expect you to be speechless. Was I that bad of a captain to make you nervous?"

The teasing tone didn’t reach his eyes, though. His grin faltered for a brief second, and you noticed the subtle way his fingers tightened around the railing. He’d always worn that easygoing facade, but the longer you looked at him, the more it became clear—there was something on his mind. Something he hadn't told you all these years.

You took a small step closer, letting the warm evening breeze sweep through your hair. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Shanks laughed softly, a sound you had missed so much. "I know," he admitted. "But... it’s been so long, I wasn’t sure where to start."

You gave him a small, wry smile, your gaze steady on him. "Start with the most important part," you said quietly. "Why did you leave without a word? We didn’t even get a proper goodbye."

His expression shifted, and for a moment, he was silent. He turned his gaze to the horizon, the fiery orange sun reflecting in his eyes. “I wanted to come back. God, I wanted to. But... I didn’t think it was right. I thought you’d be better off without me, that I’d just get in the way of your future."

You were silent, processing his words. “So you left because you thought it was for the best?” you asked, your voice a mix of frustration and sadness.

Shanks nodded, his shoulders tense. "I’ve always been a man who lives in the moment. But I’ve never been good at thinking ahead. Back then, I couldn’t offer you anything solid. I didn’t want to drag you along with my reckless lifestyle... And I hated the idea of you waiting for me, wasting your life on someone who couldn’t promise you anything."

The weight of his words hung between you, but as you watched him—this man who had always been larger than life, full of energy and joy—you saw something that you hadn’t expected: regret.

"I spent all these years thinking about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "Wondering if you hated me, or if you had moved on with someone else. I tried to convince myself that it was better this way. But it’s been... hard. Every damn day, harder than the last."

Your heart clenched as you took a step forward, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Shanks, you don't have to apologize. You did what you thought was best... but I wish you’d known I would've waited for you."

He turned to face you then, his gaze locking onto yours. The playful spark was gone, replaced by an intensity that made your breath hitch. "I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "But I do now."

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the sea and the faint creak of the ship’s wooden planks. Shanks shifted, closing the distance between you, and before you knew it, his hand gently cupped your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of warmth through your chest.

“You’ve always been a part of me, Y/N,” Shanks whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Even when I was a thousand miles away, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you.”

The words hung in the air, as if they were both a confession and a release. A truth he’d kept hidden for far too long. You stared at him, your heart racing, and a bittersweet smile curled on your lips.

"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice trembling slightly.

"You don’t have to say anything," he replied, his grin returning but this time it held a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. "I just wanted you to know... I never stopped loving you."

Your heart swelled, and without another thought, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours, like a long-awaited reunion, and for a moment, the world melted away. The past, the years of separation, the pain—it all faded into the background as you kissed him, letting the emotions that had been hidden for so long wash over you both.

When you pulled back, breathless and with your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “I missed you, Shanks.”

He grinned, his eyes still soft but filled with that familiar spark. "I’m not going anywhere this time."

And for the first time in years, you believed him.

The sun dipped below the horizon, but the warmth between you both remained—quiet, unspoken, and enough to carry you both through whatever the future held.

♡♡♡