#cob masterlist

[joelmillerisapunk]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.

[bitchesuntitled]

Softer

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s feeling a tad self-conscious

Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think that’s it?

A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! 😍🥰😘

This is for @beefrobeefcal’s Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it 😅

Masterlist||AO3

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.

“Well, it’s you and Joel’s first baby together,” Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.

“Can’t beat that logic!” Your dad grinned.

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes, “Good thing it’s the last one too.” 

Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, “It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your ear, “Least there will be cake,” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Can’t beat that logic!” You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.

—

“Mom!” Ellie shouts, “Sarah’s trying to sneak into the cake!”

“Quit being such a narc!” Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellie’s arm, “You want to know just as much as I do!”

“Girls!” Joel hollers. “Come help your uncle Tommy set up!”

Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.

“Alright everyone!” Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat! Parents-to-be first!”

“Hey momma,” Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “What ya in the mood for?”

“More like what is the baby in the mood for?” you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. “I hate this fucking thing,” you hiss.

“Just gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then I’ll kick everyone out,” Joel reassures.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.

“Jesus Joel,” Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. “Your woman’s the one eatin’ for two not you!”

Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.

“Oh hush,” Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.

“Probably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,” a guest piped in. “My husband did that too!”

“Sympathetic pregnancy?” Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.

“Ellie, gross,” you hiss. “Finish eating before you speak.”

Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. “What the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?”

“Ellie,” you groan. “Language! I haven’t spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!”

“And just think, you’re starting over!” your dad laughs.

Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.

“Okay, googled it!” Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. “Google says, c- cou- nevermind, I’m not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.”

“That why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?” Tommy asks, nudging Joel’s shoulder before sitting down. “Dealing with some morning sickness as well?”

“Damn it Tommy,” Joel growls, balling up his fist. “If you don’t cut it out-“

“Alright, alright,” Maria hisses. “Enough.” She adds pointing at Tommy.

—

Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadn’t thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.

“Whatcha lookin’ at hot stuff?” You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.

“Thinkin’ I need to go on a diet,” Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.

“The fuck would you do that for?!”

“Tommy’s ri—“

“I swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommy’s right.” You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, he’s gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.

“What?” Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. He’s seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarah’s mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.

“Tommy’s got it totally wrong,” you grin, “I love the way you look these days Joel.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, “what.. uh.. what about it?”

“Dad bod through and through,” you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. “Was thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.”

“Yeah?” Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, “Should I put on a show?”

“I wanna see my man!” you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.

“Feel like we need some music or something,” Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70’s porno music, “No thank you, that’s enough.”

You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?”

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, “Listen, I’ve never done this for anybody. I’d ‘preciate if ya didn’t make rude comments.”

You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, “Sorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.”

With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“Mmmm,” you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed “Joel. You look so fucking good like this.”

Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.

“Fuck!” He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, “Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Ow!” You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.

“You good?” Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. “No Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,” you add with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Fuck. Please!” You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Surprise Masterlist

Find all chapters of The Surprise here. Updated as new chapters are released.

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some chapters are 18+ MINORS DNI (they are marked as such), pregnancy times throughout, other warnings marked chapter by chapter Current total word count: 47k

The Surprise (Part 1)

The Lentil & The Blueberry (Part 2) (18+)

The Kidney Bean & The Grape (Part 3)

The Kumquat (Part 4)

The Fig & The Lime (Part 5)

The Peapod (Part 6)

The Lemon & The Apple (Part 7) (18+)

The Avocado & The Turnip (Part 8)

The Bell Pepper & The Big Tomato (Part 9)

The Banana (Part 10)

The Carrot (Part 11) (18+)

The Spaghetti Squash (Part 12)

The Mango (Part 13)

The Corn Cob (Part 14)

The Rutabaga (Part 15) (18+)

The Scallion (Part 16)

The Cauliflower (Part 17)

The Eggplant (Part 18)

The Butternut Squash (Part 19)

The Cabbage (Part 20) (18+)

The Coconut (Part 21)

The Jicama (Part 22)

The Pineapple (Part 23)

The Cantaloupe (Part 24)

The End (Part 25)

Extras (in Chronological Order)

Donuts

Going Home

Fan Art from Cool People!

Emily & Reader (@scorpsik)

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 3: Best Friends

Word Count: 893

Rating: G

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

CW: Language

Summary: Part of the As You Wish universe! A conversation between kids leads to an interesting conversation between Eddie and his former bandmates.

@corrodedcoffinfest

[As You Wish masterlist]

There isn’t a cloud in the sky, giving the sun plenty of opportunity to smile down on the Fourth of July Barbeque you and Eddie are throwing. This is the first time you’re hosting a party in your new house and it’s going pretty well, if you do say so yourself. 

The worst of the day’s heat had burned off and Eddie just lit the grill to get it all warmed up and ready to go. He closes the lid and makes his way back over to the outdoor table that his old bandmates are all sitting around. 

It wasn’t often that they all got to get together since everyone had their own lives and families these days, but it made those rare times all the more fun.

“Should be ready soon,” Eddie says as he plops back down in his chair. The hot concrete of the patio is too much for his bare feet, so he picks them up and rests them on one of the supportive bars under the table. From where he’s seated, Eddie can see through the cutout window on the back door, into the kitchen where Max and Gareth’s wife, Tammy, are getting all the food ready to be brought outside. 

Eddie would be the one doing most of the grilling, but Max insisted on grilling the corn on the cob because Eddie was notorious for burning it. 

“How was the drive up here?” Frank asks Jeff before taking a sip from his beer can.

“Not bad,” Jeff says with the shake of his head. “Most of the traffic was going the other way. Guess not many people were coming into Hawkins for Fourth of July.”

Just as Eddie is about to remark on the fun Fourth of Julys they’d had as teens in Hawkins, a small voice whines from the ground next to him.

“Theo!” Danny Harrington huffs, dropping the piece of green chalk he was coloring on the concrete with. “Luke said I could draw the tree!”

“You can draw one here,” Luke says, leaning closer to the younger boy and pointing to a blank space on the patio. 

“Don’t be such a baby,” Theo says to his brother.

“Theo, be nice,” Eddie scolds his nephew. 

Steve is over at the kiddie pool, kneeling by its side while his daughter Mia, three-year-old Tiffany Sinclair, and Jeff’s five-year-old son Brian splash around. Nancy is on the other side of the yard, playing cornhole with you, Ryan, Natalie, Jeff’s oldest daughter Candace, Gareth’s daughter Lynna, and Frank’s girlfriend Sara. Eddie knew they’d thank him for squashing a potential squabble between their boys had they heard it.

The eldest Harrington boy sighs. “Danny’s just mad ‘cause Luke is my best friend and not his.”

“I said you’re both my best friends,” Luke says, not looking up from the drawing of a fish he was etching. 

“I think you can only have one,” Jeff’s middle child, seven-year-old Jasmine, says, scanning through the pieces of chalk to determine what color she should use next. 

“That’s not true,” Luke says, finally pausing his drawing. He lets the orange slab of chalk roll out of his hand and turns his body to look at his father. “Daddy, your best friend is Uncle Steve. But he wasn’t your best friend in school, right?” Luke didn’t wait for his father to confirm. “Who was your best friend in high school?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Gareth says, a playful smirk growing on his face as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Who was your best friend in high school?”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding.

“Didn’t you hear what my boy said? Can have more than one.”

“I bet it was my daddy,” Jasmine says absentmindedly as she continues her drawing. 

Her comment makes Frank and Gareth chuckle.

“Aww, Jazzy! You don’t think I was Uncle Eddie’s best friend?” Gareth asks the little girl. 

“No.”

Her bluntness makes all four men at the table laugh, and Frank has to cover his mouth to avoid spitting out his beer. 

“Who was it, Uncle Eddie?” Theo asks. 

The three other former Corroded Coffin members look at Eddie with expectant faces, amusement gleaming in each of their eyes. 

Eddie wasn’t used to being the one to answer questions as their former DM—he was the one who told them what was what back then. 

“Nancy,” Eddie finally says. His asshole friends were having fun messing with him, then he was going to take the wind out of their sails. “Nancy was my best friend in high school.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Danny says knowingly.

Jeff, Gareth, and Frank bust out in laughter when the six-year-old calls their friend’s bluff.

A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, and he drops his head forward in defeat. 

“Oh, it’s alright, Eddie,” Gareth says, leaning back in his chair once more. His fingers wrap around the neck of his beer bottle and as he brings it up towards his mouth he adds, “We all know your best friend was O’Donnell.”

Jeff throws back his head and cackles in laughter while Frank’s rumbling laugh goes on so long that it turns into a coughing spell. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes skyward. 

“You know,” Eddie says, voice dripping in sarcasm, “it’s such a shame we all don’t get together more.”

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

a True Blood au

vampire!eddie x supernatural!reader

Part 7: Cry Little Sister

masterlist playlist

It's been over 2 months since you had more than a glimpse of Eddie, but you had the feeling that he never let you get too far out of his peripheral vision. Some vampires you've never met before come looking for him while you are trying to housetrain your new companion. Just as you're about to have some quality time with Eddie, another visitor shows up.

word count: 4.4k

18+only for mature themes, vampires, mention of illegal drugs, a demobat, allusions to smut, angst, werewolves, ode to The Lost Boys

authors note: this is a shorter chapter, and there is not a ton of action like in the other parts, but I will make up for that next time.

I had a few names I was considering for our new companion, and decided to go with Bela, in honor of Bela Lugosi, thanks to @somnambulic-thing

You’d picked up an old, pea green recliner at the thrift store, and that was where you sat in the morning by the lamp to drink coffee and read as much as you could about demobats. 

There wasn’t much known about them, but you had gone to Robin at the bookstore with your search, and she found an obscure issue from a dead publication and ordered it. You told her it was purely to satiate your curiosity after you’d witnessed them firsthand on your way to Sacrament. You didn’t know if it was good sense, or even legal, to have one residing in your home, so you decided to keep your new friend a secret for the time being.

Days turned into weeks since you'd last interacted with Eddie, but you kept track of when he was home and when he wasn’t, as if it was your job. Sometimes, when you were watching TV in your living room with the curtains drawn, you’d catch his kitchen light click on about an hour after dark, and you imagined him walking through in his boxers, yawning, scratching his stomach where the trail of hair from below connected to his bellybutton.

What you didn’t know was that the first part of his waking up ritual was to crack his bedroom curtain and see if you were home. If you weren’t at work, the answer was usually yes, and he’d watch the flicker of your tv in the window reflection.

That morning, you had a black, hooded sweatshirt in your lap, and in the sweatshirt sleeping like a baby, was a demobat. 

You peeled back a bit of the material to take a peek at her face. Her enormous mouth of teeth hung open and her leathery wings twitched like she was in the middle of a dream, your arm straining at the heft of her weight. She didn’t have any eyes, but her sense of hearing was excellent and sometimes, you had to make noise for her to find you, like tapping your knuckle on the wall or countertop.

You didn’t realize she’d followed you from the Upside Down until a good three days later when you came home from work late to find her collapsed on your porch. You imagined she got desperate because she was starving. This wasn’t the same world as hers, and she didn’t know her way around or how to find nourishment. She let you pick her up when you found her, after one long roar to let you know she was dangerous, and then she wrapped her wings around you.

  You were worried that she might go after Eddie’s cat, Dio, or one of the other strays you were feeding at the trailer park, but you were surprised to read in the book that they were not carnivores.

A vegetarian demobat? She especially enjoyed canned mandarin oranges and corn on the cob.  Everything considered, she was docile and attention-starved, for the most part, until she could sense voices a bit too close to the trailer, or the mailman slipped letters in your box, making the metal flap clink shut.

And then she would go berserk, screeching at the top of her lungs, wings outstretched, trying to make herself look as big and threatening as possible.  

“Bela,” you called to her, using the name you’d decided on, inspired by Lugosi.  You clapped a few times, using vibration to get her attention, and she eventually learned to come to you.

Weeks turned into months and there was snow on the ground; a light dusting to accompany the late-November freeze.  You’d only recently caught a glimpse of Eddie in passing, from a distance, or just before he snapped his trailer lights off in the morning to go to sleep.  He stopped by Main Vein a few times  to sit in his regular spot and have a NuBlood, but you had a strong feeling that he was avoiding you.  The second you walked over, he’d either check his pager and act busy, or he’d excuse himself and say he had to run.

He never failed to leave some of his artwork scribbled on a napkin, though, and you were always quick to snatch it and put it in your pocket.

You felt like he was keeping tabs on you, yet keeping his distance, all at once. 

You’d dropped off a carved jack-o-lantern on his porch a few days before Halloween, and the day after that, you were surprised to find an odd butterfly animal made of scrap metal, sitting on your welcome mat.  Your smile cut into your cheeks so hard, a tiny ache throbbed there as you admired the welded legs and haphazard laser cuts on the wings.  

To honor the family memories that were so ancient they were almost dust, you got up on a ladder outside to string some colorful Christmas bulbs, and you put up a tiny tree of the Charlie Brown variety inside.  You had a Bing Crosby album while you decorated.  Mostly, it was a sad attempt, and the other vampires in the lot hated the holiday by definition, so they all gave your place pointed looks over the upturned collars of their jackets.

Bela looked like E.T. between some stuffed animals with silver tinsel on top of her oddly shaped head, hanging down like hair, when there was suddenly some kind of commotion outside.  You strained to listen and swore you heard a loud voice shouting for Eddie.  

The demobat sprang from the couch, flaring her wings wide; she was a blur of holiday delights being thrust away by her sprawl.  A feral sound escaped her that was part howl, part Velociraptor caw.

You jumped up and moved in front of her, so she lowered her wings--which were also used as hands with extremely strong fingers---and hovered behind you in the air.  She finally dropped to the counter and waited with a snarling mouth while you pressed your forehead against the cool of the window to see what was going on.

There appeared to be four boys dressed like 80's rockers in long black coats, and you noticed a motorcycle for each parked just between your two trailers.  They continued to call Eddie’s name, almost taunting now, and two of them hit the trailer with the flat of their hand, trying to get his attention. 

“He’s not home,” you went out onto the porch, shutting Bela inside to shriek to herself in private. You did not know for a fact that he wasn’t home, but there was no car parked in his normal spot, and you sincerely wanted them to go away.

They all turned to you, pale faces stern at first, but then smiles crept across their devilish mouths exposing the points of vampire fangs.  The one with the platinum blonde hair and earring in one ear caged his fingers in front of him and rolled his thumbs over each other as he spoke.

“And, who might you be? He cocked his head, and the others seemed to mirror him, four pairs of eyes sweeping over you.  

The sounds inside the trailer told you that Bela had moved to the far end, possibly the bedroom.  You could hear her shrill cry followed by a thud.  

From your higher vantage on the porch, you told the vampire your name, appraising him down the end of your nose.  “What do you need from Eddie?”

He walked closer, almost to your steps.  “Oh, we’re old friends, just hoping to catch up.”

He was positively enigmatic, in that way only vampires can be, but you had a feeling this guy never had a hard time getting what he wanted even when he was human. There was sarcasm in his tone and, for some reason, the others snickered.  

“Well,” you took a breath and grabbed for the door handle.  “Good luck finding him.”

In a flash, they were all up on the porch, crowding you, making you gasp.  “Not so fast there, princess,” the blonde one grinned.  “Maybe we want to get to know you better.”

You could hear the ticking of the time bomb inside of you, on its final few counts before detonation.  Your heartbeat quickened, and you were sure that they noticed.  You watched them freeze and exchange a few curious glances.

Then, there it was: the inhale, that quick and deliberate sniff of your scent.

The blonde one ran a finger down the scar on your cheek.  “You don’t smell like a human.  Why is that?”

You shrugged away from him.  “Please get off my porch.” 

They were all leering at you, their crooked grins mocking.

You wondered if he was trying to glamour you—to make you do whatever he wanted by hypnotizing you—but he’d soon find out you were impervious to vampire party tricks. 

“Don’t be so hasty, princess,” the main one moved as if he were about to touch you again, his cold breath matching the chill of the air outside.

“Hey, are you bozo’s looking for me?” There came another voice, just below the porch railing.

It was Eddie.  

You stepped back, closer to the front door, face flushing with the heat of relief. 

He was in the typical Eddie uniform of all black, but for the white of the Iron Maiden tee under his leather, and the rips in his jeans where pale, tattooed flesh peeked out. He wore heavy motorcycle boots that were covered in mud, and when his hands flexed into fists at his sides, you saw that the knuckles on one hand were bloody.  You wondered where he’d rushed from the moment he felt your fear.  What sort of car jacking or obligatory beating had he been partaking in when he felt your need?

You never meant to call for him on purpose, but now that he had your blood in him, he could sense any ripple in the force that hinted to your discomfort. 

The look on Eddie’s face when the vampire boys parted, and he finally found your eyes, was a mix of worry and white hot anger.  “Are you okay?”  

You nodded once, that was all you could manage.  You were so glad to see him, and it wasn’t because you worried that the guys on your porch would hurt you.  There was another, more foreign emotion that bathed you in a sense of calm.

Meanwhile, the thudding at the other end of the trailer stopped abruptly. 

“Easy boys,” blondie spread his arms wide to motion for them all to step back.  “Give the lady some room.  We didn’t come here for trouble.”

“What did you come here for, then?” Eddie bit.  His stare was trained on you as the vampires santured down toward him.

You could’ve, or possibly should have, gone inside, and even though you knew Eddie could handle himself, you didn’t feel good about the 4 on 1 odds.  One of the mullet boys had a butterfly knife that he was fidgeting with; opening and closing it with a flick of his wrist while he walked. He had black gloves on, and you wondered if the blade of the weapon was made of silver.

“Just a friendly visit, Munson,” Blondie said. You watched him stop a few feet from your neighbor while the rest circled him like they had with you.  “We were told you had something of interest to us.”

Eddie shot him a look, confused, but maintained his composure. “If it’s Dice you want, I haven’t sold that shit in years.”

Dice: the vampire drug of choice.  

The only drug on the planet designed for vampires to experience the equivalent of a human Benzo.  Highly addictive, and made with a lot of illegal, human-derived ingredients that Eddie preferred not to think about, it was also deadly in large amounts to vampires because of the trace amounts of garlic oil.  

The four guys who looked like they’d just walked out of a heavy metal video exchanged bored expressions. Eddie knew the platinum-haired one fairly well, his name was David, and the shorter one with the butterfly knife was Marko, but he’d never cared to learn the names of the other two.  They lived down at The Caves in a vampire “nest” with a few others, and had only been turned recently, so therefore, were no match for Eddie’s strength. Still, they were cocky as hell and always looking for trouble, as most young ones were. 

Eddie chanced a glance at you, hoping maybe you’d gone inside by then, but also, he liked having you where he could see you. He looked over his shoulder to get an idea of how many other residents were lurking around.  

“We should probably talk business inside my trailer,” Eddie inclined his head.  “Too many ears out here.”

“If you don’t have it,” David lowered his voice and tilted his head.  “I bet you know where we can get it.”

Sure, Eddie knew one guy in town who had it, but there was no way he’d send those creeps over to Reefer Rick’s place.  His long time friend was still human, and he didn’t trust the irrational hunger he saw in their pinned pupils.

“There’s only one person I know for sure would have some and that’s Jareth,” Eddie lied.

The other three guys mumbled to each other behind David, but then David shushed them with a hiss and flap of his hand.  

Eddie knew that would shut them up pretty quick.  No one could just stroll into Sacrament and ask Jareth for drugs.  Also, Jareth never wanted money in return, he always wanted services for “favors”, and they were always tasks that would make any normal person, vampire or otherwise,  have a hard time looking at themselves in the mirror afterwards.  

David began to back up, toward his motorcycle. “Alright well, this was a pleasure,” his gaze lingered on you and he gave a slow, generous lick of his lips.  “I really hope we bump into each other again sometime.”

Eddie couldn’t help the death stare he was giving him, grinding his back teeth so hard, the muscles in his jaw bulged.  He hated that they knew where you lived, he hated that they had been so close to you, to know that you were different.

The motorcycles began to start up, headlights snapping on to blare right into your eyes, making you blink away.  

The rest of their motors idled until David took off first, tires making tracks in the thin blanket of white over the ground, and then the rest followed onto the gravel road before blasting onto the highway, howling to each other like wolves as they went.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie was up on the porch with you as fast as if he had teleported.

The sudden jolt of his new proximity knocked the wind out of you; you still weren’t used to the lightning speed at which they could move.

“Could you please not do that anymore,” you clutched your throat. “Maybe just walk up the steps like a regular person?”

Leaning back against the railing, he grinned.  “My bad,” he mumbled, playing with the chunky ring on his middle finger.  

The truth was, he’d been going crazy trying to get you off of his mind.  Ever since he took you to the Upside Down, he’d been wrestling with some serious demons and trying not to think of  you in a sexual way, but his efforts were fruitless.

It was normal for humans to have sexual dreams about a vampire if they ingested their blood, but he’d never heard of it happening the other way around.  He’d been prey to so many wet dreams of tasting your cum on his tongue that he’d lost count.  It was getting to the point that he looked forward to the fantasies because it was a way to spend time with you; to feel the warm, wet lining of  your cheek when you sucked his fingers, to not only split you open with his cock and deny you until you begged to cum, but to make soft, deep love to you when he confessed things that he could never say out loud.  

He wasn’t allowed to have feelings for you.  It would make his job very…complicated.

That other secret job of his, the one you could never know anything about.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Eddie’s head snapped up at your question. “Why would I be avoiding you?” Indeed, that is exactly what he’d been doing, but he didn’t want it to be obvious.

With an absent shrug, you realized all of a sudden that you only had a light cardigan on over your jumper, and your teeth were chattering.

“I’ve been really busy with…” he trailed off.  “...stuff.”

“I loved the butterfly you made,” you told him, hoping to see those flecks of gold dance in his eyes again.  

“You mean the bug soldier?” He chuckled, correcting you. “Those aren’t butterfly wings, that’s a cape.”

“He’s inside.  I’ll have to apologize to him for calling him a butterfly.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.  “Do you want to come in?”

“Shit, sorry, yeah, you look cold.  Here.” He shrugged his leather jacket off, exposing the patchwork of tattoos along his arms and neck, and you let him put it around  your shoulders.  You were suddenly shrouded in that familiar musk of his and you felt safe.

But then, he let the weight of your other question sink in.  “Are you inviting me in? Officially?”

If you invited a vampire in, that meant they could enter your home any time they pleased, by whatever means necessary.  There was always the option to resend the invite, but it was an important decision that would eliminate the barrier of magical protection.

Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard the sound of glass breaking, like a window shattering.  

And then you heard the all too familiar screeching.

“Oh shit, Bela,” you cursed under your breath.

“Bela?” Eddie tried to peer around the trailer to where the sound was coming from. “Who is —”

She appeared over the top of the roof then, jagged teeth ready to strike as she shot down at Eddie like a missile, roaring as she went.

Defensively, he exposed his fangs to meet her aggression.

“No, no Bela! He’s a friend!” You put your arm out like a shield to protect him and she landed on it like a trained Hawk or Owl, curling a finger from one of her wings around you for support.

She hissed one more time at him for good measure, and then her wings fell slowly to her sides as she crept up your arm to settle on your shoulder.

Eddie’s jaw went slack.  

“Is this the…same one that we…how?”

You told him about how you found her on the porch and the way she refused to let you too far out of her sight.

He lifted a hand to maybe touch a finger to her belly.  “Can I?” He asked you.

“I wouldn’t,” you responded quickly, noting Bela’s low growl.  “Not until she knows you aren’t a threat to me.”

He dropped his hand and hooked a thumb into his belt loop, taking in the details of what it was like to see one of them up close.  “I’ve never heard of a human, or anyone, making one of them into a pet. I didn’t think it was possible. They are killing machines.”

You let Bela rest one of her heavy tentacles gently in the palm of your hand, swirling it into a spiral.  “I don’t know if she’s a pet as much as…some type of guardian.  She’s tuned into my emotions somehow. I think that’s why she’s not trying to eat your face off right now.”

You were enjoying the awestruck expression on Eddie’s face.  “Did you still want to come inside? Or have you changed your mind?”

He remembered the wet dreams he’d been having, how many times you’d buried his length inside of you while seated in his lap.  The sweat dripping down, the groaning, the words of adoration.  The way he fingered you in the shower and made you—-

“Earth to Eddie?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts. “I said, would you like to come in?” 

You had the door open, and you gestured for him to follow, with a feral demobat casually riding on your shoulder.  It had begun to snow again; petite flakes that melted as soon as they hit  your skin.  One got stuck on Eddie’s eyelash.  

“Yes,” he swallowed, raking a hand through his hair. “Yes, I would like to come in.”

“Okay, let me put Bela in my bedroom real quick,” you went on ahead into the warmth of your place, shivering.  Eddie put his boot in the door to keep it from closing, taking in the gravity of the situation.

You had invited him inside.

As a vampire, it was not something to be taken lightly.  

You had to put Bela in the bathroom momentarily, until you could duct tape over the broken window in your bedroom.  You felt like she’d listened to you well enough, but the doubts you had gave you anxiety, so separating her from your new guest felt like the best idea.  You put a soft blanket on the bathtub in there, and she nestled down in it like she was sleepy.  

When you came back out a few minutes later, Eddie was still standing in the doorway, just inside the threshold.

“Did the invitation not work?” You asked, curiously.

“No, no, it did,” he took the final step in and went to close the door behind him.  “I was just enjoying the moment, I guess.”

You noticed that his hand, the one that had been bleeding earlier, was completely healed already.  

Just as the front door was about to shut completely, headlights from a car lit up the porch as someone approached from the road and parked in front of your trailer.

“What now?” You sighed, exasperated.

But then you heard the rumble of the big engine that belonged to a classic, square-body Chevy, and your blood ran cold with sudden recognition.

Eddie closed the door the final inch and turned to note the way you nervously adjusted yourself.  “Were you expecting someone?”

Shit shit shit

You cursed to yourself quietly. 

Could all this be happening at a worse time?

Also, how could you forget? Between Bela and Eddie's motorcycle buddies, the fact that you’d agreed to go on date that night had somehow slipped your mind.  

The headlights turned off and the engine cut. 

“Yeah, um, I agreed to go to the movies with someone tonight,” you cleared your throat.  Why were you nervous to tell him you had a date? It wasn’t like Eddie had made a move, in fact, he’d been giving you the cold shoulder for weeks.  You were starting to think he was repulsed by you.

“Someone?” Eddie heard the heavy footfalls climbing up the wood steps, and realization dawned on him. Everything made sense all at once.  The fact that you were dressed up in clothes he’d never seen you in, and you smelled extremely good, even more so than normal.  

What had he expected you to do? Wait around on the porch for him, knitting, until he was able to work through his issues and ask you on a date himself?

Someone else had beaten him to hit, and he didn’t care who it was—he fucking hated him.  Wanted to rip him open and stomp on their guts.

At the sound of the doorbell, Bela screeched from the bathroom.

Chaos, you mused, pure chaos.

You squeezed your eyes shut and wished for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you up.

With a tight jaw, Eddie was the one to open the door.

Steve Harrington had a bouquet of daisies in his hand. A full head of hair that was long down his neck, and black and red flannel over a new pair of blue jeans. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of you standing just behind the vampire with the murderous look on his face.

Steve’s eyes shifted to you.  “Is this a bad time?”

“Yes,” Eddie said.

“No,” you corrected, pushing by Eddie to take the flowers and thank him.

“These are so beautiful,” you cleared your throat.  “Um, Steve—this is Eddie, my neighbor.  Eddie this is—”

“I know who he is,” they both said in unison.

You watched Steve’s brown eyes glow a bright yellow for a moment as he regarded your other guest with stern resolve. 

You took off Eddie’s jacket and handed it back to him with a shove. “Just give me a second to grab a few things?” You said to Steve in a rush.  “I’ll be—I’ll be right out.”

Steve stared right at Eddie when he said, “I’ll go wait in the truck.”

“You do that,” Eddie muttered as Steve turned to go.

Eddie was quick to slam the door shut again.  He turned to you with a scowl on his face, “A werewolf?” He balked.  “You’re going on a date with one of those smelly dogs?”

“Yeah, well,” you tossed the daisies on the counter while you fumbled with your handbag. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he pursed his lips into a tight line and shook his head.

“Good, that’s settled,” you took a deep breath.  “Not that you deserve any explanation, but I’ve been running into him at the bookstore for weeks, and I mentioned that I never go anywhere, so he invited me to a movie.  We’re just going as friends.”

“Friends don’t bring you flowers.” 

Outside, the truck rumbled to life and the headlights snapped on again. 

“I can’t do this right now with you, Eddie.  I need you to go so that I can get Bela out of the bathroom and calm her down before I leave.”

Without another word, he reached for the door again.

“Hey Eddie,” you softened your tone.  You’d meant to grab his arm, but took hold of his hand instead.  He squeezed your fingers back, but he did not turn to meet your eyes.  “I’m sorry we didn’t get to…I don’t mean to run out on you like this. Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’m busy,” he mumbled.  He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles once, and then, in a blink, he was out the door and gone.  

-----

Love you all for your patience on this! I look forward to your thoughts and reactions through comments, reblogs, and asks so much! All my love!

------

Taglist: @trixyvixx @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @sidthedollface2 @atomickaratel8dy @probablyin-bed @kiyastrf94@briamunson92 @joannamuns9n @jasminelafleur @@bellalillyrose @dashingdeb16 @alba8688 @corrodeddeadlydoll @brassreign @likedovesinthewnd @ilovetaquitosmmm @skrzydlak @onegirlmanytales @angietherose @probablyin-bed @reidsbtch @moonbeamsandmayhem @eddiesxangel @hideoutside @secretdryrose @nailbatanddungeon @thorfemmes @corkadymu @kellsck @mrsjellymunson @poofyloofy

[thewidowsghost]

Separated in the Night (Ginny Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Masterlist

Anonymous asked: Hi, would you be able to do a fic about R(Harry's twin) and Ginny getting separated from their siblings - they're already dating - and R protecting Ginny as best she can from Death Eaters?

The cheers of the crowd echo through the stadium as the game reaches its peak. 

“KRUM CATCHES THE SNITCH, BUT IRELAND WINS THE GAME!” Ludo Bagman’s voice roars across the stadium. 

(Y/n) turns to her – secret – girlfriend, Ginny, beaming and bouncing with excitement. “That was incredible!” she takes Ginny’s hand, both their siblings distracted by their own excitement, squeezing it excitedly.

Ginny’s cheeks flush, “Yeah! I can’t believe we were able to see it in person!”

“Don’t tell your mother you’ve been gambling,” Mr. Weasley implore Fred and George as they all make their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” says Fred gleefully, “we’ve got big plans for this money. We don’t want it confiscated.

Mr. Weasley looks for a moment as though he is going to ask what these big pans are, but seems to decide, upon reflection, that he doesn't want to know. 

They are soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing is borne towards them on the night air as they retrace their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns keep shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reach the tents, nobody feels like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agrees that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They are soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley gets drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it is only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table from beside (Y/n) and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley calls a halt to the verbal replays and insists that everyone go to bed. Hermione, (Y/n), and Ginny go into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys change into pajamas and clamber into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they can still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang. 

. . .

Hermione, Ginny, and (Y/n) – who was fully dressed – hurry straight towards them, Hermione and Ginny pulling coats over their nightdresses, Mr. Weasley right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerge from the boys’ tent, fully dressed like (Y/n), their sleeves rolled up and their wands out. 

“We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr. Weasley shouts over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. “You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!”

“C’mon!” (Y/n) shouts, pulling Ginny with her. They push through the crowd, trying to stay together amongst the chaos. (Y/n) glances back, her heart pounding in her chest as she sees the masked wizards advancing, their wands raised.

“(Y/n), over here!” Harry’s voice reaches her, and she turns to see him and Ron beckoning them over. But just as they make a move towards them, a group of panicked people rushes between them, cutting them off.

“Harry!” (Y/n) calls out, but her voice is drowned out by the noise. She feels Ginny’s grip tighten on her hand, and she turns to see the fear in her girlfriend’s eyes. “We’ll find them,” (Y/n) promises, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. “But right now, we need to stay safe.”

They run for the woods, the sounds of screams and spells echoing behind them. (Y/n) leads the way, her mind racing as she tries to think of a plan. We’ve got to find a safe place to wait this out, she thinks.

As they run, (Y/n) keeps her senses on high alert. She has a feeling these masked Death Eaters could be anywhere, and she’s determined to protect Ginny no matter what. They find a small clearing, and (Y/n) pulls Ginny down behind a fallen tree, both of them breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes scanning their surroundings.

Ginny nods, her face pale but determined. “I’m okay. What about you?”

“I’m fine,” (Y/n) says, though her heart is still racing. “We just need to stay here for a bit. Hopefully, the others will find us.”

They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of the battle. (Y/n) can feel Ginny trembling beside her, and she reaches out to take her hand once again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re going to be okay,” she says softly, her voice filled with determination. “I promise.”

. . . 

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours as (Y/n) and Ginny huddle behind the fallen tree. The distant sounds of chaos gradually fade, replaced by an eerie silence. (Y/n) knows they can’t stay hidden forever; they need to find the others and get to safety.

“Let’s move,” she whispers to Ginny, helping her to her feet. They move cautiously, keeping to the shadows as they make their way through the woods. (Y/n)’s mind is racing, trying to remember the layout of the campsite and where they might find the others.

Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes makes (Y/n) freeze. She raises her wand, ready to defend them. Ginny does the same, her face set in determination. They hold their breath, waiting.

A masked figure steps out of the shadows, wand raised. (Y/n) reacts instinctively, sending a Stunning Spell towards the Death Eater. The spell hits its mark, and the Death Eater collapses to the ground.

“Come on,” (Y/n) urges, pulling Ginny with her. They start running again, not wanting to stick around in case more Death Eaters are nearby.

As they move deeper into the woods, (Y/n) tries to stay calm. She knows she has to be strong for Ginny, to keep her safe no matter what. They come across a small stream, and (Y/n) decides it’s a good place to stop and catch their breath.

“We should be safe here for a bit,” she says, kneeling down to splash some water on her face. Ginny does the same, looking around nervously.

“Do you think the others are okay?” Ginny asks, her voice trembling slightly.

“I hope so,” (Y/n) replies, trying to sound more confident than she feels. “Harry and Ron are smart; they’ll find a way to stay safe.”

They sit in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the forest. (Y/n) tries to formulate a plan, but it’s difficult with so many unknowns. They need to find the others, but wandering through the woods aimlessly is dangerous.

“We should try to find the main path,” (Y/n) says finally. “It might be risky, but it’s our best chance of finding the others.”

Ginny nods in agreement, and they start moving again. As they make their way through the woods, (Y/n) keeps her wand at the ready, her senses on high alert. She can’t let her guard down, not with Death Eaters on the loose.

They finally reach the main path, and (Y/n) feels a glimmer of hope. They follow the path cautiously, keeping to the shadows. As they round a bend, they hear voices up ahead. (Y/n) motions for Ginny to stay quiet, and they move closer to investigate.

Peering through the trees, (Y/n) sees a group of Death Eaters standing in the clearing. Her heart sinks as she realizes they’re blocking the path. They need to find another way around.

“We’ll have to go back into the woods,” (Y/n) whispers to Ginny. “We can’t take them head-on.”

Ginny nods, and they start to backtrack. As they move away from the clearing, (Y/n) hears a twig snap behind them. She spins around, her wand raised, just in time to see another Death Eater emerging from the trees.

“Stupefy!” (Y/n) roars, sending the Stunning Spell towards the Death Eater. He dodges it, and (Y/n) barely has time to react before he sends a spell flying towards her. She deflects it, her heart pounding.

“Run, Ginny!” she yells, trying to keep the Death Eater’s attention on her. Ginny hesitates for a moment before nodding and taking off into the woods.

(Y/n) engages the Death Eater in a fierce duel, her movements quick and precise. She dodges his spells, sending her own back with equal force. She knows she can’t let him get to Ginny; she has to protect her at all costs.

With a final, powerful spell, (Y/n) manages to disarm the Death Eater, sending him sprawling to the ground. She doesn’t waste any time, turning and running after Ginny.

She finds her a few meters away, hiding behind a tree and clutching at her ankle. “Are you okay?” (Y/n) asks, breathing heavily.

Ginny nods, tears in her eyes. “I think I sprained my ankle, but other than that, I’m fine. Thank you.”

(Y/n) pulls her into a tight hug, relief washing over her. “We’ll get through this,” she says softly. “Together.”

. . . 

The sun begins to rise, casting a pale light over the forest. (Y/n) and Ginny, exhausted, keep moving, determined to find their way out of these woods and back to the others. The fear of being found by more Death Eaters keeps both girls on edge.

Ginny, whose ankle had started to throb harshly, leans heavily on her girlfriend, who’d wrapped an arm around Ginny’s waist, her wand leveled in her left hand.

They stay close together as they catch sight of more voices, and (Y/n) almost sobs in relief when she sees Bill.

“Bill,” Ginny calls, choking back a sob at the sight of her eldest brother.

“Dad! Harry!” Bill calls, and Mr. Weasley and Harry emerge from the tent.  

“Thank God,” Harry embraces his sister, who still hadn’t let go of Ginny – or her wand. 

“You’re okay,” Mr. Weasley chokes out, embracing his daughter tightly. 

“Thanks to (Y/n),” GInny says. “She was so brave.”

“Thank you,” Mr Weasley says. 

“Of course,” (Y/n) breathes, still shaking from exhaustion.

. . . 

The familiar, crooked Burrow appears in the distance, and a sense of relief washes over (Y/n). 

Mrs. Weasley rushes out of the house, her face pale with worry.

“Oh, my dears!” she cries, enveloping Ginny and (Y/n) in a tight hug. “Thank Merlin you’re all safe!”

“We’re okay, Mum,” Ginny reassures her, though her voice trembles. “We’re all okay.”

Mrs. Weasley looks over at (Y/n), her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, (Y/n). For keeping Ginny safe.”

(Y/n) nods, a rush of emotions making her unable to speak. 

Inside the Burrow, the atmosphere is tense but filled with relief. Mr. Weasley and the older boys discuss the attack in hushed tones, trying to make sense of what happened. Mrs. Weasley fusses over everyone, making sure they’re all fed and comfortable.

(Y/n) and Ginny find a quiet corner in the living room, sitting together on the couch. (Y/n) can see the exhaustion in Ginny’s eyes, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on her.

“We’re safe now,” (Y/n) whispers, brushing a strand of hair from Ginny’s face. “It’s over.”

Ginny nods, leaning into (Y/n)’s embrace. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

(Y/n) holds her close, feeling a deep sense of love and protectiveness. “You don’t have to thank me,” she replies softly. “I’ll always be here for you, Ginny. Always.”

Word Count: 1942 words

[koihanwrites]

Hi can I req what would be like watching a movie with venti? can be in a cinema or at home. make it as a headcanon form.

the reader is also gender neutral plsss

-

🪐

Watching A Movie With Venti Headcanons !!

Gender-neutral reader

Pairing/s: Venti x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Koihan's Venti Masterlist

Warnings?: Viewed Romantically

Like in the movies...

Venti is the type of guy who would buy a ton of popcorn and soda

Venti is the type of guy who would a troom-troom YouTube tutorial on how to hide snacks when it is forbidden to a cinema..

Venti is the type of guy who will always hold your hand while watching a movie..

Venti is the type of guy who whines and begs for you to cuddle with him before the movie starts.

Venti is the type of guy who will look at you with a smirk on his face whenever a romantic scene comes up.

Venti is type of guy who would force you to wear matching onesies with him before watching the movie since he said it's comfy (it's the frog one!!)

Venti is the type of guy who acts like he isn't scared when you two are watching a horror movie. (he screams like a girl when he does.. IT HAPPENED TWICE ON UR LATEST MOVIE DATE W HIM)

Venti is the type of guy who will keep on scaring/jumpscaring you after watching a horror movie that made you jump a hundred times.

Venti is the type of guy who lovesss laying his head on your lap

Venti is the type of guy who really HATES sad endings.

Venti is the type of guy who gets really emotional during a very touching moment in the movie.

Venti is the type of guy to give you major spoilers on a movie you haven't watched (you bonked his head after /lovingly)

Venti is the type of guy likes romance and comedy! especially when combined.

Bonus!

1# - Whenever the popcorn is almost finished you two would fight with pick up lines and whoever blush first will make the popcorn.

In the cozy confines of the living room, the tantalizing aroma of freshly popped popcorn filled the air. As Venti and (Name) settled onto the couch, their eyes glued to the screen, they reached for the bowl of popcorn.

"Your eyes sparkle like the popcorn, my dear," Venti whispered a knowing smirk forming on his lips as he took a handful.

"Oh, Venti" you replied with a playful smile, "Your words are as sweet as the kernels themselves"

With each handful, the banter escalated.

"Your smile is like a buttered kernel, melting my heart," Venti said.

"And your voice is like the popping sound, making me crave your attention," You retorted

As the popcorn dwindled, so did their inhibitions. Venti reached for the final pieces, only to have the your hand intercept his. Your eyes looking away from the screen.

"My sweet," Venti said, his gaze locking with yours, "Your lips are as irresistible as the last popcorn kernel."

A rosy pink color started to appear on your cheeks as a giggle escapes your lips. "And you, Venti," you murmured, "Are as charming as the butter on the cob."

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Venti leaned in close. "Then let us seal this pact with a kiss. The loser will have to replenish the popcorn."

Your heart fluttered. "Challenge accepted."

Your lips met Venti's in a soft, heated kiss. As you pull away, his eyes held a glimmer of amusement.

"It seems I have won," he whispered with a smug grin. His fingers finding yours to pull you again for another kiss.

You blushed furiously. 'Well, I suppose I do deserve to make the popcorn hmph..."

...

the end ... ✩

©KoihanWrites

[sarahghetti]

going to the carnival hcs; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader, the gang's all here

summary: the carnival's in town! some headcanons for how you spend your time there with the boys.

warnings: mildly suggestive near the end, but essentially just pure fluff all the way through. reader is called princesa once, no descriptions otherwise.

word count: 2.0k

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

the carnival rolls into town—of course you’re all going!

and it’s kind of perfect because they all have their favourite parts.

food

marc is your food guy—he won’t be the one to suggest the funky fair foods like frog legs or peanut putter pickle corn dogs, but he will go halfsies with you on anything you want to get so you can try a lot of different things.

you’re giving this look to the deep fried oreos stand that has marc pursing his lips, obviously hesitant even though he offers no resistance when you direct the two of you towards it.

“if you want cookies, I saw a place near the entrance,” he suggests in a placating sort of way, as though he could dissuade you from trying any of the monstrosities at your disposal.

“but…” you gesture at the sign, look at it! and he’s never been more aware of how much you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger because he’s buying an order for you without a second thought.

“it’s… very sweet,” he remarks after his first bite. “not sure if it’s much of an improvement on the original thing.”

“then why do you keep eating it?” you make grabby hands towards the tray in his hand to try one, and he dangles it out of your reach. “wha—hey!”

“just hang on a sec.” he polishes off his cookie, tongue darting out to catch some errant sugar on his lips before pulling you deep into a kiss.

he’s grinning wide at his own cheesiness before he even draws back completely, your face is burning and, yeah—it’s pretty sweet.

meanwhile steven kind of taps out for this. veganism doesn’t exactly pair well with the hodgepodge of carnival foods being offered, but he will take a good sorbet when it gets particularly hot out.

if he fronts after marc or jake eat something non-vegan, steven will find the nearest lemonade stand to wash the taste out of his mouth. he gets a different one every time, and almost drinks the entire bubblegum flavoured lemonade even though he dislikes it.

jake secretly thinks it’s good. marc fronts again near the end of the cup and immediately tosses it in the trash.

jake has simpler tastes but will try to deviate a little in spirit of the carnival. as long as it’s generally something he likes, like fried chicken or a burger, he won’t mind if it comes in a cone or has a shit-ton of cheese piled on top. is the one to pay eight dollars for a cob of corn.

games

marc and steven will only play the fair game scams if you want to, but jake has no qualms about them at all. you mention that there’s a prize plushie you think is cute and he’s already pulling you towards the booth, eyes glinting in a way that you know he’s up to trouble.

jake then proceeds to crush every single game you come across.

skeeball? he’s getting 100 points with every ball he throws. hoops? draft this man into the nba, he’s sinking baskets like your life depends on it.

jake’s bracing a pellet gun against his shoulder, lining up the scope with the targets at the end of the booth when it finally clicks.

he might not be wearing the suit, but that doesn’t mean that khonshu isn’t with him. you lean in over his shoulder. “wait, are you—?”

bam, bam, bam. three shots, three bullseyes. the people around you are whooping and hollering, but jake just turns to you with a smug look on his face.

“didn’t even need him for this one, princesa, but—” his eyes dart to the top of the booth and you can imagine the god sitting up there, watching you. “what is true justice if not scamming a scammer, hm?”

the attendant comes around to give jake his prize, which he presents to you with flourish and a wink.

“now, is there anything else you want? the fist of vengeance—” he drops his voice down to what you know as an imitation of khonshu “—still has a few games left in him.”

marc fronts again to find his wallet much lighter and his arms full of plushies that jake won for you and just sighs.

steven must’ve read a book about the design behind carnival games at some point because boy is he knowledgeable about it.

it’s a bit of diversion from his usual egyptology, but he seems to know all the tricks of the major games like the back of his hand and leans in close to your ear to tell you exactly what’s happening as you watch other people play.

“you see that?” he points towards the ring toss booth, where a handful of people are fruitlessly bouncing rings off the rims of bottles.

you already know what’s coming but still, you ask: “do you wanna play?”

“oh, no, love, now the rings—” he brings the tips of his forefinger and thumb together in demonstration “—they’re barely big enough to fit over the bottles, you’d have to hit it dead on to have a chance. even then, the material isn’t any help, the rings’ll bounce right off like—that!”

he snaps his fingers, and you giggle a little at his theatrics. the sound always makes him blush a little, and he turns back to the game to distract himself before he gets too flustered.

someone puts down twenty dollars for a bucket of rings and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “poor buggers.”

maybe he says it a little too loudly, catching the attention of some of the players and his face flushes red as he stammers an apology. you shove him playfully, face similarly burning. “steven!”

“sorry!”

the only exception for marc is the horizonal bar game, you know, the one where someone has to hang from a bar for some length of time? it’s practically impossible because it rotates under your hands, yeah, yeah, steven—he knows.

but marc’s a guy with far above average fitness who climbs up walls on the reg. doesn’t even need khonshu’s power to beat it, he just hangs up there, smirking at you as the timer counts down. it’s the easiest prize he’s ever won in his life.

rides

marc’s whole life is a rollercoaster, so he’s ok.

but in all seriousness, the midway rides aren’t really his thing. they’re transported in from who-knows-where, then set up in a parking lot by who-knows-who, and you’re supposed to just let them flip you upside down over and over again while paying ten bucks for the honour? no. he does not trust them.

steven and jake, however, see all the bright lights and loud music and are a little more favourable.

steven probably feels nauseous at the idea of being put upside down, but travelling fast in a circle, or spinning around in teacups? he’s so down. will join you in spinning the teacups to the max or sport a devilish grin as he singlehandedly spins the teacup as you scream.

(will give you a lil kiss on the forehead as an apology if he accidentally takes it too far)

jake sees the crazier rides as a challenge. won’t push you to do them if you really aren’t comfortable, but he gets this spark in his eyes and promises to keep you safe if you ride with him.

what does that mean? it means that he has full confidence that if there’s a failure in any of the safety mechanisms, he can suit up and save you before anything bad happens.

marc is absolutely flabbergasted that jake “protector of the body” lockley even considers going on any of these deathtraps. loudly protests from within as jake tells you about how fast his reaction time is—it doesn’t matter, jake, just don’t take them on the ride in the first place!

the Ferris Wheel SceneTM goes a bit differently depending on who’s fronting at the time.

steven absolutely insists on going on the ferris wheel and will wait any length of line so that you can ride it.

“look at that!” he’s pressed against your side, shoulder to hip, and uses your joined hands to point out landmarks in the distance as you climb in height. the city lights glitter across the horizon, and steven laughs at the spectacle of it all.

he’s probably imagined this very moment happening ever since you told him that the carnival was coming to town—sitting on top of a ferris wheel with you at his side, being able to kiss you at the top.

“did you have fun?” you bump into his shoulder, smiling at how happy he looks.

“fun? love, this is—” he shakes his head. “today has been like a dream. you’re like a dream.”

he says the last part like a confession, grinning, and you feel his happiness when he finally gets to press his lips to yours.

jake suggests you go on the ferris wheel in the same way as when he suggested the two of you cheat at the carnival games, so you’re immediately suspicious.

“stop looking at me like that.” he tries and fails to keep a smirk off his face, giving you an innocent look as he rests a hand on your knee. “isn’t it beautiful outside?”

it is. you take your eyes off him for one moment to admire the view and his hand creeps higher, fingertips pressing into your thigh.

“jake!” your eyes widen, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh. he leans in close, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“nobody can see us up here—it’s just you and me.” his lips move down to graze your jaw, and your breath catches in your throat. your heart flutters.

“I like the sound of that.” jake pulls back slightly to see the small smile on your face. “’you and me.’”

it’s like you’ve taken the wind out of his horny sails. he can’t help but to smile back, and when he kisses you again, on the lips this time, you know that he agrees with you.

the ferris wheel is the only ride you can convince marc to go on; no matter what he says, he’s a big softie at heart.

he keeps an arm wrapped around you the entire time, holding you close. the scent of him envelopes you like a warm blanket.

marc doesn’t say a lot, preferring to just enjoy your company as you slowly make your way to the top. you don’t mind—you just rest your head on his shoulder and wait for him to open up on his own.

when you stop at the top, it’s like you’re in a movie. the neon lights spread out beneath you, your quiet breaths in the cabin, the soft kiss he presses to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and it means so much more than you’ll ever know. you smile up at him and he looks back at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen—like he’s at finally at peace, and you’re the reason why.

you can’t help but kiss him, then—let him taste the words as you say “I love you, too.”

[shiftdew]

℧ ⋆.˚⋅ account intro!

[fall edition]

༄ 🥧 : about me

⋅ my name is hannah, but you can also call me either of my names from my main drs [laika, corgi] ⋅ my pronouns are she/any, and i'm sapphic/bi? ⋅ i'm 22 ⋅ i study animal science in college, concentration is equine management ⋅ i've been in the shifting community since 2020, haven't shifted to any of my drs yet ⋅ i'm autistic and my special interests are horses, stardew valley, and the 100 ⋅ my current hyperfixations [shorter term than special interests] are palia, fields of mistria, and cob horses ⋅ i'd like to post mostly about my drs [dr intros, storytimes, lore, scripting, ideas, scenarios, moodboards, etc.] ⋅ would love to meet people shifting to similar drs, or who love talking about their drs! ⋅ favorite drs at the moment are: the 100 , stardew valley

༄ 🥧 : my tags

#shiftdew : anything i post [not reblogs] #shiftdew misc : miscellaneous posts and chatter #shiftdew masterlist : my dr masterlists #shiftdew reblog : reblogs #shiftdew aesthetics : my moodboards/aesthetics for drs [dr specific tags are listed in my dr masterlist]

༄ 🥧 : directions

⋅ my dr masterlist : [here] ⋅ shiftblr web version : [here]

last updated... [oct 23] account intro inspired by @solstices-dreams

[whiskeynwriting]

The Boys on Thanksgiving

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2

◆

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: Not really any. This is kinda cute lol

◆

A/N: this involves Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Vargas, but it’ll be stowed away under my Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist (:

Happy Thanksgiving to those in the U.S.!

(I know my boys are British, but they’re celebrating because they came to see me, okay?)

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

John Price

Is the most polite out of the entire bunch. Will wash his hands and face before eating, and helps clean up when he’s done. He loves the turkey, but the mashed potatoes are his favorite. Probably gave the host his mom’s recipe beforehand. Drinks coffee with his pie, but only eats cranberry. Makes sure the boys all say thank you when they’re done.

John “Soap” McTavish

Is 100% there for the macaroni and cheese and especially the deviled eggs. He’ll eat them all. Has to be reminded to close his mouth while eating because he gets too carried away. Gives little dance moves while he eats because he’s just so happy to have real food. Chocolate pie is his favorite dessert in general, not just during the holidays. So when he sees it here? He loses his mind. But he’ll always share it with Gaz, too.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Will absolutely smash an entire turkey. Light meat, dark meat, who cares? He definitely doesn’t. Also loves corn but not on the cob, for some reason. It gets on my mask. But he’ll probably spill food/drink on his mask anyways because he’s so excited to eat that he forgets it’s even there. Doesn’t like coffee, he prefers tea. Black tea is his favorite, and he loves a good pumpkin pie. Barely speaks throughout the entire thing, he’s too busy filling 3+ plates. If asked how he likes the meal, he’ll answer with happy grunts, small grins and nods.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Sneaks most of the cranberry sauce into his belly. He feels like a kid but he loves the sugar. Laughs at Johnny’s chomping. Dances along with him when they eat pie together. They sit next to each other for this exact reason. Will drink coffee when he’s done, especially to keep himself up. Because after he’s finished with his plate, he’s definitely dancing to the music Vargas puts on.

Alejandro Vargas

Is also polite, and is the most talkative while he eats. He feels like it’s rude if he doesn’t comment on the food, and thanks the host when he’s done. Makes fun of Ghost for not liking corn on the cob while he devours his own. Has too many drinks, but is the most jovial drunk you’ve ever met. Insists that there needs to be some kind of music when everyone is done eating. It makes everyone more lively! But Ghost and Soap are already napping on the couch together by the time it comes on.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing with Visions - It Isn't Unusual - Charleston - Venti

Author Notes: I forgot how difficult it was to write the Charleston and writing it with Venti (a character I have written very little with) made this doubly hard. But that's what I get for randomizing the matches between characters and dances. I wrote this fic will listening to the song "It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones. The performance in this fic was inspired by a couple Charleston by Sondre and Tanya, viewable here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmY_QNOFvRY. Just like the rest of this series, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ dance/ fluff/ platonic or romantic/ sfw

Word Count: 1036

Realistically speaking, I should have known something was going to happen when Venti, of all people, sat down next to me on a bench despite the festival that surrounded us. Because, for Venti, festivals were important. He could make a lot of easy money, get people to buy him drinks, and have a generally good time without anyone to really scold him about his alcohol intake. Because, bluntly put, a festival in Mondstadt always meant alcohol.

So for Venti, who could be argued to be the man of the hour, to abandon the festivities and instead sit with me on the sidelines was odd.

Even more so, though, I really should have known better than to accept his excuse that it wasn’t unusual for him to sit with ‘someone as dear as you’ as him flirting and taking a break from the celebrations.

I did, however, recognize my mistake for what it was when Venti’s hand crept over and across the bench to where mine rested. But that was far too late for my realization, though, considering I was barely able to even look down at where his fingers toyed with mine before I was being yanked up to a standing pose.

“Venti,” Despite his behavior, I found myself chuckling out his name as he looked at me with bright eyes.

“Come on, a day like this is made for music and dancing. Not for sitting off to the side all by your lonesome,” He pulled me further away from my now-abandoned seat and closer to the dancing people.

I grinned at him, tilting my head at the flirtatious young man, “Then shouldn’t you be playing music?” 

At my words, he grinned and shook his head, bowing at the waist as he gestured off towards the side at Six-fingered José, “A gentleman such as myself knows when to let others have their moment in the spotlight.”

I snorted at his words but shook my head. Surrendering easily to the grinning young man,  “Alright, one quick dance.” 

He looked all but diabolically pleased with himself as he twirled me lightly so that I was facing him, with my back to the crowd of dancers, as he interlocked our hands, “How does the Charleston sound, my lovely lady?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t really complain as I laughed at him, “Figures you’d like a dance as fast as that one.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, causing me to laugh as he started to sway with the music, “Is that a yes?”

I nodded in lieu of responding, only lagging slightly behind him as he started dancing before I was matching his kicking motions perfectly. Grinning despite myself as we shifted around, trading off on who leaned backwards as our feet hit the ground in time to the upbeat rhythm of the music around us.

I could hear others laughing around us, and some even started clapping, making room for us as we danced. Matching the festive atmosphere perfectly as Venti’s sparkling, laughter-filled eyes continued to hold mine.

He pulled me towards him, and I laughed as we collided before I leaned back, letting him whirl me in a rapid spin before I was lowered once more so that I was in a limbo-esque position.

He tugged me back up with a carefree laugh, twirling me so that our bodies were parallel to one another with our arms extended across each other’s backs so that our hands could stay locked together.

Our footsteps clicking against the cobblestone path melded with the applause that clapped along to the beat of the song as we continued to dance. Spinning around so that we were facing each other and trading off on which side our arms were locked as we kept up our kicklike footsteps.

I was laughing out loud right now, knowing perfectly well that I’d lost to both Venti and the festival’s atmosphere of joy. Which was precisely what  the bard had wanted.

Because that was just the way Venti was. Always pushing me to relax and join in on his playful actions, even if I was usually more likely to sit off to the side and watch others’ celebrations.

I suppose that when it came right down to it, he simply couldn’t help himself.

He spun me out as the song ended, keeping a hold of my hand as he turned and walked with me away from the crowd of dancers who kept on going without us. 

“There. One dance, as promised,” I smiled at him, half out of breath from both having laughed quite so much and the raw amount of energy I’d just exerted.

He grinned back at me, tugging a flower out of one of the bouquets that filled the streets and holding out to me as if he were a magician who’d just whisked the blossom out of thin air.

I glanced smilingly at the Cecilia bloom before accepting it, causing his smile to only widen, “And I do thank my lady.”

I laughed slightly, shaking my head fondly and sitting back down on the bench before blinking in surprise as the bard sat down next to me, “You aren’t going to rejoin the festivities?” 

I leaned towards him almost worriedly, but he only shook his head. That usual smile of his on his face as he leaned towards me as if he were mirroring my motions, “I told you, it isn’t unusual for me to want to spend time with someone as dear as you.”

I blinked at him, twirling the flower in my fingers lightly as I held his wide-eyed gaze, “It is when there’s booze to be had that you aren’t going after.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, looking at me with a faux hurt expression, “If I leave you, you won’t be protected, and someone else will come by to make you dance with them!”

I hummed in response, not believing him in the slightest but opting to stay silent as I looked back out at the crowd. A slight smile on my face as I leaned relaxedly against Venti.

After all, it wasn’t unusual for me to be pleased that he was staying with me rather than leaving.

If you would like to read more:

Previous

Next

[finniestoncrane]

💜🍴 Finnie's 1.5k Follower Event 🍴💚

CLOSED by health inspector

even though it felt like this took forever it really didn't because i've only been on here and writing for just over a year, and i'm so grateful that people still follow me despite my personality as a whole lmao, i wanted to do something silly and goofy so here's my prompt list for my milestone ;-; hello and welcome to the vill-inn, gotham's newest restaurant (and definitely 100% not a money-laundering front for nefarious rogue activity no sirree u-u) please come on in and peruse the menu and let us know what you want to eat!! send in your order + reader/insert gender/pronouns/genitals too! the restaurant is now closed as well as writing headcanons and drabbles, i'm also doing a little give away! so anyone who asks off anon (or not, check the specials menu below) i'll enter into a little silly draw for a 1k commission and pick 3 winners u-u 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block)

Hello, welcome to Vill-Inn, how will you be DIE-ning with us today?

Sit-In [drabbles/short fic]

Takeout [bullet-point/free form story/headcanon style]

Delivery [surprise me]

Great! Wonderful! What can I get you to drink? And don't say fear toxin! (I'm this close to quitting...) (pick 1)

Water [hurt/comfort]

Soda [angst]

Milkshake [fluff]

Signature Cocktail [smut/pwp]

Black Coffee [doesn't matter/surprise me]

And what will you be having for your MAIM course? (pick 1, feel free to specify the version)

Question Mark Shaped Nuggies [riddler]

Sushi Platter [penguin]

Pumpkin Ravioli [scarecrow]

Surf and Turf [two face]

Arroz con Pollo [bane]

Steak [victor zsasz]

Cucumber Sandwiches [mad hatter]

Garden Salad [poison ivy]

Gut Buster Burger [harley quinn]

Gazpacho [mr freeze]

Plain Noodles with Butter [john doe]

Gumbo [killer croc]

BBQ Platter [captain boomerang]

And what loyal side(kick)s are you having with that? (pick up to 4)

🍟 Regular Fries [waking up with them]

🧇 Waffle Fries [sex in a public place]

🍠 Sweet potato Fries [visiting them in Arkham/Blackgate]

➰ Curly Fries [only one bed]

🍁 Poutine [slow dancing]

🥔 Potato Skins [at a party]

🍕 Pizza Bites [tending to wounds]

🍗 Chicken Wings [confession/confessing feelings]

🍔 Sliders [exacting revenge]

🌭 Mini Dogs [hate/angry sex]

🍤 Popcorn Shrimp [hugs from behind]

🐔 Chicken Strips [oral sex/how they give and receive]

🍿 Cheese Popcorn [bite marks/marking kink]

🥒 Deep Fried Pickles [sloppy kisses]

🧅 Blooming Onion [being rejected]

🍘 Rice Crackers [choking]

🍞 Bread Rolls [blood play]

🧄 Garlic Bread [straddling]

🥖 Breadsticks [neck/wrist kisses]

🥪 Half Sandwich [giving/receiving praise]

🥣 Soup [argument]

🍜 Noodles [cuddles]

🍚 Steamed Rice [denial]

🦪 Oysters [rough sex]

🍣 Sushi Sampler [edging/orgasm denial]

🌽 Corn on the Cob [instructional masturbation]

🥕 Honey Glazed Carrots ["open your mouth"]

🥗 Green Salad ["do you need a hand?"]

🍅 Tomato Salad ["i have to go"]

🍏 Fruit Salad ["i shouldn't have to ask"]

🍆 Roasted Veg ["i've never done this before"]

🥦 Seared Broccoli ["i hate you"]

🧀 Cheese Platter ["it's too late"]

🍖 Meat Plate ["i've never wanted anything more"]

🍄 Sauteed Mushrooms ["do you want it rough or gentle?"]

🥑 Guacamole ["please don't leave"]

🥜 Toasted Peanuts ["i want to hear you"]

🥓 Bacon Bits ["i didn't say stop"]

💚 Specials Menu 💚

I'm Here For A Blind Date [tell me a bit about yourself and i'll do a character pairing for who you're having lunch with]

Can I Get A Seat At the Buffet? [i don't have an idea/want to ask off anon, but i want to be included in the draw - this message won't be answered]

thanks for visiting, and please feel free to tip your wait staff 💜

[filmofhybe]

MASTERLIST

a /n : 🎞️ is requests , 🐚 is series !!

jungwon

honeymoon avenue - yang jungwon

my addictive apple - Yang jungwon

⛸️ Christmas ballerina - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

⛸️ a better Christmas- 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

happy new year , best friend - Yang jungwon

heeseung

⛸️ Christmas office - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

my Golden Disc Award - lee heeseung

jay

Drunk words are sober thoughts - park jeongseong

a song from me to you - park jeongseong

⛸️ Gingerbread Martini - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

⛸️ corn on a cob - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

jake

Halloween neighbor - Sim Jake

Smallest among millions - Sim Jake : pt1 pt2

⛸️sold out Christmas Gift -24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

⛸️ Return to Tiffany & Co. - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

sunghoon

Chilling rivals - park sunghoon

⛸️ icy warm Christmas - 24 days of Christmas with filmfohybe

sunoo

rainy café days - Kim sunoo

⛸️ warmth welcome -24 days of Christmas with filmfohybe

niki

🐚 Lifeguard - Nishimura Riki Smau series

bump into you - Nishimura Riki

my jealous baby - Nishimura Riki

⛸️ Loud Christmas carols - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

⛸️ taking care of you from afar - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

ot7

secret lovers series (smau) - Jake , Jay , niki , sunghoon , jungwon heeseung sunoo

song that reminds me of enhypen - ot7

When enhypen sees a beautiful fan - Hyung line Maknae line

🎞️ Type of fanboys enhypen would be for idol reader - ot7

🎞️ Enhypen find out that their idol!s/o is other idols ideal type - ot7

🎞️ enhypen accidentally revealing their relationship-ot7

🎞️ shopping date interference - ot7

🎞️ no kisses? - ot7

🎞️ mv lovers - ot7

🐚in every multiverse - ot7 series

🎞️ hybe game (admirers) caterers ot7 series

⛸️ a magical Christmas with enhypen - 24 days of Christmas with filmfohybe

⛸️ Instagram stories (Christmas edition) - 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe

🎞️ airport buddies - ot7 x oc! As 8th member of enha

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part III

Blue Moon

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: I’m making a serious effort to be as historically accurate as possible in each of these letters, but I also realize that I may reference things that some people are unfamiliar with or confused about. I’d be happy to answer any questions about the time period if you have them!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

Song(s) referenced in this chapter: Chattanooga Choo Choo // Blue Moon

Dedication: As always, dedicated to my sweet friend, @luminousnotmatter​, as well as everyone who has offered such lovely support for this series!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, allusions to rationing, plenty of fluff.

July 6, 1942

Dear Peach,

Is it alright if I call you Peach? I suppose being in and around the Navy for as long as I have, I’ve become sort of used to the notion of nicknames. We’ve got one for everyone around here, and Peach just seems to suit you. I admit, it’s how I’ve come to think of you. But if you don’t like it—or if it seems too familiar for me to be calling you a silly nickname—you let me know right away and I’ll be sure not to do it again.

Gosh, I can’t tell you how happy it made me to receive your letter. Mail Call is always a good day—you should see the smiles around here when the fellas get letters from their sweethearts and families. But it felt a hundred times better the day I got your letter. Benny was about ready to tear it out of my hands and open it himself, and Tommy Boy wasn’t too far behind. Paul practically had to knock their heads together so that I could have a little peace. I kept it in my pocket and saved it to read until after dinner that night. Let me tell you, it was certainly sweeter than any dessert they could cook up in the mess (although, admittedly, their dessert could use some work, even on a good day).

I’m sorry that it took me so long to write back. You wouldn’t believe this, Peach, but they’ve really got us working hard over here. It’s almost like there’s a war on or something.

I’m sorry, was that a terrible thing to say? I don’t mean to make light of it. None of us do. But I think we’ve found that if we look for a little bit of levity every now and then, it makes this whole thing a bit easier to bear. We haven’t been here long, but we’ve already seen and heard things we’d rather not remember. So we look for the good where we can find it—like Mail Call, when we get special letters from lovely girls back home, just like you.

To answer your question, I’m doing just fine. I suppose I won’t try to get one past the Office of Censorship this time around, but we’re still in the same region of Europe and expect to be so for the foreseeable future. I wish that I could paint you a beautiful picture of what life is like here, but it’s rather bleak at the moment. You can still see the pockets of beauty though—I’m sure it was a wonderful place before this war. I hope that one day, it will be again.

But I’m sure you don’t want to hear me ramble on about the sad state of the world right now. Should we talk about something happier? How was your Fourth of July? I hope it was swell. I admit, my mouth was watering a bit the other day when I thought about all the things my mother always makes to celebrate. I’ll never know how she manages to get it all done, but she prepares a feast for us every year. My favorite part has to be her apple cobbler—drop a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, and I swear, it’s heaven. All of us were missing home a little extra this Independence Day, so we ended up swapping stories of home and all the ways our families celebrate. I have to say, it did help to dull some of the homesickness. Tommy Boy had us all dreaming about parades marching through town, and Benny couldn’t stop talking about his mother’s berry icebox cake. We made him promise that when this is all over, he’ll have us as dinner guests so that we can sample it for ourselves. Do you have any special Fourth of July traditions?

Speaking of families and traditions, I’m so glad to hear that Paddy, Dottie, and little Frankie are doing well. Although I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your sister, from everything you’ve told me, it does sound like Paddy has found his perfect match. She sounds like a woman who can certainly keep him on his toes. By the way, please let Paddy know that we all played a rousing game of Rummy in his honor. We look forward to getting to play with him again when we get home.

Gosh, there’s just so much I want to say. But it’s kind of hard, isn’t it? Knowing the right things to say, I mean. I’ve always been kind of amazed at how eloquent people’s letters can be. Mine sort of just end up coming out like a jumbled mess. It’s like I want to tell you everything that crosses my mind—as if we were sitting on that bench together on King Street—but I can’t think of a proper way to do it. So I apologize now if this letter is horribly scatter-brained and messy. I’ll try my very best to be more organized in the future.

What I do have to tell you—and I should have said it earlier—is how much I appreciated your lovely description of your day back in Charleston. Unfortunately, it was rainy and gray here the day I received your letter, but reading your words made it feel as though the warm southern sunshine had been delivered right to us. I hope you don’t mind, but I read that part of your letter to some of the other fellas. They really appreciated it. They’re also very grateful to know that you’re thinking of us and wishing us all the best. So am I. It gives us the boost we need when the days get hard.

Nothing would make me happier than the thought of you saving a dance for me. Maybe next time, I’ll even get to hear that pretty singing voice of yours. I know you said I couldn’t be certain that you were a good singer because you were just humming, but trust me—I know. We listen to music over here sometimes when we’re able, but I do admit it’d be much more fun to be listening to it at another USO dance. Sometimes I’ll hear a song that played that night, and it makes me smile.

Anyway, they’re calling us now, and I should probably stop running my mouth so much. It’s funny—I’ve never been much of a talker (just ask Paul), but with you, I feel like I could write pages and pages, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

I hope this letter hasn’t bored you to tears, and I do hope to hear from you again soon. Thanks for sending along the sunshine.

Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

July 22, 1942

Dear Bobby,

Peach is just fine! It’s lovely, in fact. I’ve never had a nickname just for me before, so that one makes me feel quite special. On top of that, it’s also officially Dottie-approved. She insists she only happened to glance over and “accidentally” catch sight of the beginning of your letter, but I think she may have just been snooping. See? I told you she’d get on wonderfully with Benny and Tommy Boy.

Mail Call sounds like a wonderful day for all of you. The USO has been reminding us how important letter writing can be. They’ve been saying how much it boosts morale for our boys overseas, and clearly they were right. I’m touched that my letter seemed to mean so much. If it really does brighten your day, then I’d be happy to write hundreds of letters. I’m not so sure my words are really sweeter than ice cream or pie, but I will try my hardest.

You don’t have to apologize! I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there. As happy as I am to receive your letters and to know that you’re doing alright, I understand that it may take a while for you to be able to write me. And you most certainly don’t need to apologize for trying to do what you can to preserve your peace of mind. My heart breaks to think what you and your friends, and all the other men over there fighting, have already seen and experienced. They say war is hell, and I absolutely believe it. I could never dream of being even half as brave as you are, Bobby. I mean that. If your heart ever feels heavy with all the burdens you have to carry, please know that you can lay it down with me. I’m more than happy to listen. I know that I won’t have all the answers—who does?—but I’ll always try my hardest to help you carry the load as best I can.

I’ve never been to Europe before, but my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon back in 1916, and my mother still talks about how beautiful and magical it was. It makes me so sad to think that countries that were once so full of life and art and beauty and culture have been reduced to war-torn husks. Like you, I have hope that one day very soon, this horrible war will be behind us and all those wonderful places will be filled with magic once more. And maybe one day in the future, I’ll get to travel there. I’d like that very much.

My Fourth of July was very nice! I have to admit, reading about your mother’s apple cobbler and Benny’s mother’s icebox cake had MY mouth watering. There must just be something about mothers because my mama also LOVES baking up a storm to celebrate Independence Day. One of her favorite desserts to make is—can you believe it?—peach tarts! Maybe we can convince our mothers to swap recipes.

This is the first Fourth of July that I haven’t celebrated with my parents back home in Georgia, but Paddy, Dottie, Frankie, and I had a wonderful day. It was Frankie’s first, so we took him to the parade in town, though I think he would have been more than happy to stay home. Poor baby is teething, and he’s been downright miserable some days. I’m sure Paul knows what that’s like, and I’m sure Natasha is dealing with the same with Paul, Jr. right now. It’s hard to watch him suffer—I know it just about kills Dottie.

Speaking of Dottie, she was rather upset that her baking plans got a bit derailed by our ration cards. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but sugar is being rationed now. We pooled together as many ration cards as we could save, but there’s been such a demand for it that there was hardly any to be found. We settled on a simple pound cake with strawberries, which Dottie wasn’t happy about, but Paddy made sure to cheer her up by making a big show about how it was the best pound cake he’d ever tasted. Personally, I do think it could have used more sugar, but please don’t tell Dottie that I said that.

Thankfully, Frankie took a good nap that day, so he was in much better spirits by the time the fireworks went off. We went down by the water to watch them, and he was mesmerized. I enjoyed them, too, but it felt sort of strange to be having such a nice day when I thought of you and all the other men who have gone off to fight for us. It felt wrong somehow to be celebrating as though there wasn’t a terrible war waging halfway across the world, a war that’s been taking more and more of our men every day. But Paddy helped to put it into perspective for me slightly. He said that the men who are over there fighting—men like you, Bobby—are doing so precisely so that the rest of us can enjoy these freedoms. He said that, if it were him, he’d be happy to know that we were safe and still getting the chance to celebrate our independence. Was he right, Bobby? I hope it doesn’t feel like rubbing salt in a wound, me telling you about our Fourth of July.

Can I tell you something? I think Paddy’s been having a hard time wrestling with the fact that his job allows him to remain stateside during the war. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard him and Dottie sitting up in the kitchen one night, talking. I think he feels a bit guilty, being a part of the Navy, but not having to go fight the same way you all are. Dottie has been trying so hard to reassure him, but I noticed that he’s been working even longer hours now—he wants to do whatever he can for the war effort, and to help bring you boys home as quickly as he can. That’s what we’re all hoping for.

I have to admit, I giggled a little bit when I read the part of your letter about feeling like what you write is a jumbled mess. I feel the same. It’s a little tricky to have a conversation on paper, isn’t it? It’s much easier when you’re sitting face to face. Tell you what? I’ll forgive your messiness, if you forgive mine. Does that sound like a deal?

Oh, I’m so glad to hear that the talk of sunshine made you happy, even on a gray and rainy day. And I’m happy that your friends enjoyed it, too. Would you say hello to Paul for me? I’m not sure if he even remembers me, but I’m still so grateful for his kindness at the dance. Maybe say hi to Tommy Boy and Benny for me, too? Even though I haven’t met them officially, I feel like I know them so well through your stories about them.

I’m not sure about where you are, but it’s brutally hot here in Charleston now. Still sunny though, so I’m picturing scooping some of it up and sending it your way. Unless we have errands to run, Dottie and I have been staying mainly inside with the baby. I know we’re supposed to be conserving as much power as possible, but Dottie doesn’t care a fig if there’s a war on when it’s this hot—she’s got all the fans running on full blast. I hope wherever you are, you’re able to keep cool.

I have to say, Ensign Floyd, you really are going to give me a big head one of these days. I assure you that I am not as talented a singer as you seem to think I am, but perhaps I’d be willing to sing along to one song at the next dance we attend. But you have to promise not to laugh when you discover I’m terrible at it. Humming, I promise you, is very different from singing.

Now that I’m on the topic of music, however, I wanted to mention that every time Dottie puts on one of her Glenn Miller records, I think of you and your mother. I know you said she was a big Glenn Miller fan, and I like to think that maybe somewhere in Iowa, she’s listening to “Chattanooga Choo Choo,” same as us.

Just last night, while we were cleaning the kitchen, Dottie and I were listening to the radio and “Blue Moon” came on. Do you know that one? The Al Bowlly song? I think he has such a lovely voice. Anyway, I was listening to the song while I was washing the dishes and it got me thinking about the moon. Gosh, that sounds so silly now that I actually write it out. But it’s true. I was thinking about the moon, and it struck me that the moon that was shining down on me was the same moon that was shining down on you. Even though I don’t even know exactly where in the world you are, when I look up at the moon at night, I can be sure that it’s the very same moon that you’re looking at. I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but it kind of brought me some comfort. Does that sound horribly hokey? I’m sorry if it does. Maybe if it doesn’t strike you as too terribly sentimental, you can share it with Paul the next time he’s feeling down about missing Natasha and the kids. This war might be keeping us all apart, but at night, when we look up at the moon, we can remember that we’re not so far apart as it seems.

Your letter certainly didn’t bore me to tears, Bobby. On the contrary, it made my day. Now I just hope that MY letter doesn’t bore YOU to tears. Maybe when all this is over, you and I will feel more confident in our letter-writing abilities. I certainly do hope that’s the case.

Stay safe, Bobby. Sending you all my very best.

Sincerely,

Peach

[jacobbaeluvr]

you can flirt now?

genre: fluff

pairing: (the boyz) jacob bae x gn!reader

summary: in which you try many ways to flirt with jacob but it suddenly backfires

warnings: uh uses of pickup lines (non-sensual ones), kissing on the neck and lips obvi, whispering, a lil cursing, uses of love, babe, cob and baby, bad humour cause i have em

notes: my woo fic is still ongoing lol idk when i'm gonna finish it

word count: 460 words

warnings pt2: this fic is not real! it's all fake so if you're uncomfortable pls block me

you sigh, the book in your hands no longer you find interested. instead, you're interested at your boyfriend's back profile. god he even looks good sitting there with his headphones on. jacob had a day off today but it seems that he's too focused on his work that it doesn't look like he has a day off.

feeling bored you got up and grabbed an extra chair before making your way beside jacob. noticing you, he placed one side of the headphones aside.

“hey baby, what's up?”

you shrugged.

“the ceiling obviously. anyways when are you done? i'm bored.”

you whined and placed your head on his shoulder. his head rested on yours after, rubbing it against yours.

“just a bit love, i'm almost done”

he then took out his headphones and started typing on his laptop.

still bored, you thought of a good idea. pickup lines.

grabbing your phone, you went on safari and searched 'pickup lines for flirting'. pressing on the first link, you tap jacob on the shoulder.

“babe, something’s wrong with my eyes because i can’t take them off of you.”

jacob chuckled.

“thanks a lot baby but i need to get this done”

giving a short peck on your lips, he continued typing on his laptop. damn it, it didn't work.

hm, let's see. ah huh, what about this one.

“babe, i’m going to complain to spotify about you not being in this week’s hottest singles.”

jacob let out a smile and ruffled your hair gently, putting your hair behind your ear before going back to his laptop. letting out a big exhale, you went back to bed. all your flirting doesn't work, fuck. hm, maybe some kisses would work.

getting up again, you tiptoed behind him carefully placing your hands on his chair before getting near his neck and giving it a peck. he made a sound of surprised but quickly recovered from it. going back to his ear, you whispered.

“cob”

“hm?”

“are you done?”

he shook his head.

“do you really need me that bad?”

“yes badly, you don't understand”

jacob laughed, it was the cutest thing ever.

“alright alright, i'll be there. let me just save this and i'll be cuddling with you okay.”

“okay!” you smiled before getting under the covers.

realising jacob is done, you open the covers before making grabby hands at him. making himself comfortable, he spooned you with one of his arms under your head and one on your waist.

“happy now?” he whispered.

“very” you replied happily.

“you know i must be in a museum because you truly are a work of art.”

did he just...

shocked, you turned with your eyes wide open.

“since when you can flirt now?”

he smiled before kissing your neck like you did to him previously.

“aww come on, i'm not that innocent love”

he rubbed his nose against your neck, kissing it at the same time. you were hot from blushing really hard.

your boyfriend can flirt now.

masterlist <3

[pajarinwrites]

The Perfect Set 02

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.9k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking, cob busts his lip and has to get it stitches, piv sex, cunnilingus (it's all not very elaborately described tho

➳ AN: i initially meant to only continue posting this series once i have all rough drafts finished but then i got too impatient and here we are, also i have been obsessed with jacob again, i'll get back to continuing chapter four now (i'm in a writers block with this story TT)

prev | next | series masterlist | general masterlist

Jacob watched you from the audience, the way your eyes were so zeroed in on your opponent, following their words with every ounce of your attention. Jacob knows the other girl slipped up when he sees the minuscule twitch of the corner of your mouth. I’ve got you, now. It seems to say. He’s seen it countless times in your practice debates, and in quite a few of your rows with him, too. Sure enough, your turn for a reply comes around and you take your opponents entire argument apart with a few well placed jabs. She gets increasingly hectic and starts stumbling over her words. Jacob almost feels bad for her. But when the jury leaves to discuss your debate any empathy evaporates. Your face lights up as you turn around to your team mates, who all give you thumbs up. He’s quite sure everyone in the hall can tell that you had the upper hand in that debate.

Once the results are officially announced and you and your team have advanced to the next round, you sprint over to the seats. He catches you in his arms and whirls you around.

“I told you, you could do it!”

“I could have been more concise in my second argument, and I totally forgot to respond to one of the aspects she mentioned, but overall it went quite well.” Your smile is blinding and he’s having a deja vu.

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements.” You stick your tongue out at him but before he can reiterate how proud he is of you, a familiar pair of arms wraps around you from behind.

“You did so great,” Juyeon whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek. You blush furiously and Jacob feels sick.

“You wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference,” you tease him. And momentarily, the weird feeling alleviates. Even if you’ve gone on a few dates with Juyeon, Jacob is the one who always makes time for you, who goes to your debate team meetings, does research with you until late at night. He’s the one that is always there for you, that has always been there for you since you were children. So it’s only natural that your open affection with Juyeon would trigger an adverse reaction. He knew his team mate was a good guy, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough for you. And on top of that, “could you guys not make out right in front of me? I’m gonna have to throw up.” You chuckle, detaching yourself from Juyeon in favour of simply holding his hand.

“It was just a peck, hyung.” Juyeon says, as if the exact manner of physical affection that you display makes any difference to Jacob.

“Either way, it’s weird because we’re like siblings.”

You look at him quizzically before shrugging. “No problem, we’ll just go over to that dark corner over there and continue. See you later!” You wave, pulling Juyeon along with you, while Jacob is left behind with the exceedingly unwelcome picture of you and Juyeon making out in a dark corner seared into his brain.

You seem to generally be busy with his teammate because Jacob sees less and less of you over the next few weeks. Juyeon also shows up increasingly late for training, often sporting suspicious marks on his neck or swollen lips. Upon the snickering glances of the younger teammates, he only grins and pulls his neckline a little lower. As much as Jacob wants you to be happy, Juyeon’s faltering morale starts to affect the whole team soon, dragging everyone’s motivation and teamwork down. After two weeks, Jacob has enough and asks Juyeon to stay behind after practice.

The taller man slinks up to him with all the time in the world and a self-satisfied expression on his face. “What’s up, cap?” He asks.

Jacob decides not to beat around the bush, “I’ve noticed over the past training sessions that you seem kind of distracted and demotivated…” Juyeon shows no reaction, forcing Jacob to continue explaining himself. “I’m definitely not the only one who noticed, and at this point your spotty attendance and lack of commitment are starting to affect the whole team.”

“But, hyung, I’m only ever a few minutes late. How am I at fault if everyone starts slacking off?”

“We’re a team, Juyeon. Everyone is responsible for everyone, to a certain degree. On top of that, you’re one of the older members, so the freshmen look up to you for guidance and motivation. Your attitude is having a negative effect on the whole team, and I need you to start taking this seriously again.”

“Or what?” Juyeon asks, his eyes boring into Jacob’s in a way that makes him squirm. He’s always hated confrontation, the fact that Juyeon is one of his close friends isn’t making this easier in the slightest. “Or nothing. This isn’t a threat, Juyeon.”

“So you’re asking me nicely? As your friend?”

“No, I’m telling you nicely. As your captain.”

“That still sounds kinda threatening, though.”

“I can’t help that. We’ve got a big roster of players and if you’re attitude and behaviour affect our results negatively, you’ll be swapped out. It’s as simply as that. I’m not doing this to antagonise you.”

“‘Course you aren’t.” Juyeon replies, his eyes fiery. He snatches his satchel off the bench and stares down at Jacob, who feels increasingly lost. “So you’re going to put me on the bench just because I’m fooling around with your girl.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, Jacob thinks. It’s also a way that makes it sound way worse than it is.

“She’s not my girl, Juyeon. She is her own person, and this has nothing to do with her. Except that she seems to distract you from what’s really important.”

“No offence, captain. But if you think volleyball is what’s really important, you’ve never gotten your dick properly wet.” Jacob feels like he’s been slapped in the face and he doesn’t know if it’s his hurt pride or the vulgarity of the statement or the fact that he feels like he needs to defend your honour once more. He stares at Juyeon, taking rapid but deep breaths and doing his most to not loose grip of his amicable disposition.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing that that’s all she means to you.”

“What’s it to you? Whatever we do with each other is none of your business. You just said she’s her own person.”

“It is absolutely my business if you’re hurting her.”

“Fuck you! You really think I’d ever do that?”

“Well if you can’t even—“

“Stop!” Juyeon suddenly screams. He’s fuming; Jacob isn’t even sure what he did to incur his friend’s sudden wrath, “don’t pretend like you know what we need from our relationship! If you don’t trust me, ask her whether she’s happy or not.”

Jacob presses his lips together, meeting Juyeon’s burning gaze with the same intensity.

“This isn’t even about her,” he reiterates because it feels like his grip on this conversation is slipping, “this is about volleyball.”

“I have a feeling that this is exactly about her.”

“That’s probably because you need to get your head and your priorities on straight.”

“Oh, sorry, that the relationships with the people I care about are more important to me than some stupid sport. Most importantly herright now.”

“We’ve got different priorities, then.” Jacob says coldly.

“Clearly.” Juyeon replies in a similar tone, “I quit.”

That takes Jacob by surprise, despite everything, and the words only register once Juyeon has crossed the gym and slammed the door shut behind himself.

Jacob stands, staring at the door in disbelief. Inside he’s still fuming, and it’s a feeling he doesn’t truly appreciate. He tried his hardest to keep the conversation civil but he still seems to have triggered Juyeon. Jacob decides to give him space to cool down, knowing that he himself needs it before he can face his friend again. In the face of overflowing emotions, Jacob always takes the same path. So he decides to do what he always does when he is feeling upset. It doesn’t hurt to get some more targeted practice in anyway, he’d been meaning to dedicate more time to his jump serves anyway.

He rolls the ball cage over the end of the court and starts practicing. Some serves, he imagines the ball is Juyeon’s face smirking at him. But most of them he’s looking at himself and feeling increasingly bad. Jacob is so engrossed in his serves that he doesn’t notice the door to the gym open and close again. Neither does he realise that you’ve sat down on the benches next to the court, watching him smash ball after ball precisely into the corners of the opponents half of the field. You watch as your best friend over-exerts himself, well aware that sometimes this is what he needs to turn off the incessant stream of doubt that runs his mind some days.

The first time you found him like this was the first week of your second year of middle school. He had just found out that he wouldn’t make the regular line-up for games this year either. Despite him sacrificing the better part of his free time to volleyball and never missing a practice, no matter how sick he was, his coach chose a different line-up. Of course Jacob didn’t say anything, ever the pacifist. And without his soothing reassurance, you would’ve stormed up to the coach in his stead to demand fairness.

“Nepotism,” you had huffed as you sat on the bench, watching your best friend try jump serve after jump serve. He was breathing heavily, his bangs sticking to his forehead at that point.

“Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested, earning yourself nothing but a burning glare. “My serves still suck. I can’t even land them in the court half the time,” he gritted as if that was enough explanation, and you had learned to keep your mouth shut. Eventually he would tire himself out, so much that he could barely lift his arms. Then he’d start collecting the countless volleyballs he had shot across the gym in hours before. You’d help him, wordlessly. And, finally, he would crash down on the floor in exhaustion, looking up at you with a sheepish grin, as if he should be apologising to you for burning himself out like that. 

So today you sit there again, waiting for Jacob to tire himself out, as you’ve done countless times. He’s still going strong after half an hour and you’re starting to worry when he suddenly flops down onto the floor.

“Spent?” You call over. His head lolls back up, staring over at you in surprise. He just looks for a few seconds as if he hasn’t yet decided on an appropriate reaction. Slowly, a smile breaks out on his lips. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, which is the first time for him to ever say this. So it’s little surprising that it takes you aback so.

“Sure, whatever. You’re crazy,” you say, getting up and walking over. You hand Jacob his water bottle and start collecting balls all on your own. He starts helping you after a few minutes and together you clean and lock up. He takes a hurried shower, trying not to let you wait too long. The two of you are halfway to your dorms when you finally dare to breach the subject.

“So… do you wanna talk about what happened with Juyeon?” The frown on Jacob’s face manifests immediately.

“Not… really.”

“Ok, no problem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, so low that you can’t hear him over the sound of distant traffic. Only the campus’ eerie silence allows you to hear him. You haven’t heard him this insecure since the infamous middle school roster disaster. He’s staring at his feet while walking, as if he’s expecting to find a treasure on the floor any moment now.

“I mean, he talked to me about it… But don’t worry, I’m impartial.”

Jacob huffs. “I’ve never known a person to be less impartial than you,” he smiles.

You stew in silence until you make it to your dorm and you can’t quite decide whether or not it’s uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come in for a second? I still have that chai mix you love.” Your best friend lifts his eyes and there’s still a little hope in them.

“Sure,” he says, much to your relief. As he follows you up, you can hear from the heavy fall of his footsteps that the training exhausted him more than he likes to admit. Hence, it’s no surprise that you tell him to get comfy on your bed while you prepare the chai with the electric kettle in your room.

You hand him one mug, the one with the beagle saying ‘good morning’ on it, his favourite. When you sit down next to him, you decide not to prompt Jacob, instead giving him a chance to start talking in his own time. It takes few minutes and some sips from your drink before he takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“What did Juyeon say?”

“The usual.. you’ve got a stick up your ass when it comes to volleyball, you should care more about your friends, etcetera…

“Oh, he also asked me if I was happy. Which was… a little weird, just ‘cuz it was unprompted, you know?” Jacob looks up at you in surprise. “Are you?” He asks, “Happy, I mean.”

“Sure,” you say, unsure of where this is supposed to be heading, “I mean university is stressful especially with the exams coming up in a couple months. But other than that I’m pretty happy… Can’t say the same for you or Juyeon, though.”

Jacob nods sagely. “It’s just been a little rough between us lately and I don’t even fully know why.”

“Maybe it’s just tensions with the quarter finals coming up?”

“That’s probably a contributing factor.”

“All the more reason to make up with him,” you whisper, not sure if you’re breaching the subject too soon. But judging by Jacob’s heavy sigh, this is the pivotal point that his brain had been circling the whole time too.

“I know you’re right but… he said a few things. And I know, from experience, that he needs a little time to calm down.”

“He seemed just as confused as you, to be honest. Maybe give him a few days before talking to him. And maybe get him back on the team? How cool would it be if our university actually won this year’s volleyball championships?” Jacob laughs. Finally, you think, relieved at the way his face finally lights up, even if it’s just for a split second.

“So your motivations are entirely selfless?”

You rest on hand on your heart, “of course! They always are. I am a good samaritan.” Jacob smirks, falling back into silence, except this time you’re sure it’s a comfortable one. 

What he doesn’t want to tell you is that he still feels like his argument with Juyeon was only marginally about volleyball. He was worried his friend might have told you that he thinks volleyball is more important to himself than you. (Which isn’t even true, of course. He’s pretty certain you’d know either way that you have always been and will always be his trop priority.) But he is relieved that Juyeon was right, you are happy in whatever situationship you have going on with him. And the mixed feelings he had about that were only due to his momentarily strained relationship with Juyeon. As long as he knows that Juyeon’s treating you right, he has no reason to not be delighted about you being in a loving relationship. He worries. That’s all.

After twenty years of friendship, you can easily spot when Jacob goes into a funk. So when he stares absentmindedly into his empty cup of chai, you know he hasn’t entirely gotten over his dismay about the fight. On top of that, you can see his eyelids dropping in real time. For not entirely unselfish reasons (it’s been ages since the two of you had a sleepover), you offer him to crash at your place tonight. He accepts, with a soft, sleepy smile that warms your heart.

You give him a spare toothbrush and oversized t-shirt so he can comfortably squeeze into your twin-size dorm bed beside you. You wrap one arm around him and he mirrors you while pulling you close. He’s so close you can make out the faint scar on his upper lip. It takes more than a little effort to push the memories of that night out of your head. Especially since it’s the first time he’s sleeping over since that accident.

“Don’t fall out,” you whisper.

“I’ll try my very best.” He whispers back, “good night, sunshine.”

“We have to go!” You squeal, “it’s team-bonding!”

Jacob rolls his eyes at you, “you’re just happy to be invited to a big house party within your first month of uni.”

“So what? Something can be more than one thing at once.”

“Yeah, except this time it’s not.”

You’re sat on the floor in front of Jacob, legs crossed, while he was on your dorm bed. He had come over in order to watch a cute animated movie with you, the way the usually did after he played and won a match with his team. Except this time he barely made it through your door before you started bombarding him with questions about the after-game party that apparently was a tradition for your university’s volleyball team.

Jacob was hard-pressed to tell you ‘no’, especially with your puppy-dog eyes and the way your oversized shirt had ridden up your thighs when you had planted yourself in front of him.

“Why do you never want to go to parties with me?” You whine, pulling on his arm lightly, while pouting. He sighs deeply, already resigning himself to giving into your whim.

“We didn’t even tell them we’d be coming!”

“Oh, please, Jake! As if anyone cares about that. I bet you half a dozen random strangers will show up and no one will care!”

“We’ll be late.”

“No one will be bothered by that except for you.”

He groans, dropping dramatically back onto you bed. You crawl up beside, leaning over him with a smirk. His heart starts racing but he decides to ignore it. “So… is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, fine whatever.” He says, but he knows you can see the smile etching itself onto his face.

“You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a kiss to his cheek that leaves his face burning. Before he can even react you’ve jumped back up, throwing dress after dress on top of him. “Hey,” he tries to protest, sitting up but promptly getting hit in the face again.

“What should I wear?” You ask, already out of your t-shirt. You’re standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and your high school sport shorts. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in less before but with how out of sorts his heart has been acting this night he’s starting to think he’s going to have a problem tonight. “I don’t know, any of them look good.” 

Rolling your eyes, your sigh, “You’re not very helpful, you know that?” 

You pull on a cute red dress and Jacob is about to compliment you when you frown and pull it back over your head. As you continue to rummage through your closet, he starts looking through the dresses you had haphazardly tossed onto your bed and, by extension, on him. There’s a short black one that sparkles lightly if he holds it up to the light just right. He holds it out for you to see to inquire about your opinion. The way your face lights up let’s him know that he hit the mark.

“It’s perfect!” You exclaim after trying it on and spinning in front of your mirror. He wants to tell you that it’s not perfect after all, that the hem is definitively much too short. But he keeps quiet because he’s not your keeper and he’s never had it in him to deny you something you wanted before. Jacob waits patiently as you put on your makeup and do your hair, and is fascinated again by how much work goes into looking like you put no work into your appearance.

Finally you finish and make it to Sangyeon’s apartment two hours late. A stranger ushers you in. Jacob thinks it’s Sangyeon’s roommate, who he’s only met one singular occasion that left him with antipathy for the man, and the feeling is only exacerbated when said roommate’s inebriated.

“Dude, thought you wouldn’t show, cool you made it!” He greets Jacob, even though his eyes are still on you, blatantly looking you up and down. All that’s missing is him licking his lips, Jacob thinks. To his horror, you seem into it, winking at the player. Jacob's hand wraps around your arm, softly but decisively, and he pulls you into the kitchen to get some drinks. The communal space is full of his team mates. Most don’t pay any attention to your late arrival but a few stare at your ass as the two of you walk by. He’ll definitely need some alcohol to survive the night, he thinks. So that’s exactly what he does, he gets himself and you some alcohol, making sure to make yours mostly juice with only a spritz of vodka. Your reaction isn’t favourable but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. Jacob would like to stick right by your side the entire evening but you’re almost immediately whisked away by no one lesser than his team’s co-captain. Unfortunately for Jacob he’s heard you gush about Sangyeon’s ‘bulging biceps’ on more than one occasion and he hates that the older man seems to have taken a liking to you too. 

Jacob tries to distract himself by watching a different group of players have a go at truth and dare in front of the couch but he’s constantly distracted. Even more unfortunately, once he gets up from the game fifteen minutes later, you (and Sangyeon) have disappeared. So, really, he thinks it’s understandable that he drinks a little more than he initially planned.

After a few too many cups Jaehyun finds him in the kitchen only to announce that they’ve set up a keg in the courtyard downstairs. In his woozy state, Jacob thinks that sounds like a grand idea. Also, if there’s partying happening outside, you might’ve simply gone there and that was why he didn’t find you earlier. Jaehyun is elated at the fact that his party-averse junior is following him easily and the both of them are greeted with cheers when they emerge from the apartment building. Jacob spots neither you nor Sangyeon but he’s so busy scanning the area that he doesn’t even fully realise when Sangyeon’s infamous roommate sidles up to him, “Dude,” he whispers, “it’d be so rad if you did a keg-stand right now.”

“Uh uh,” Jacob replies and he’s been led all the way to the keg and is already halfway into a handstand before he fully realises what he just agreed to. Whatever, he thinks, might as well. So he let’s Jaehyun and the roommate hold him up while the tries to chuck as much beer as possible. The only problem was that Sangyeon and you decided to arrive outside at that exact moment. Jaehyun spots you and immediately screams your and Sangyeon’s name.

“Weren’t you two gone for a while? How’s the dick?” 

Sangyeon and you throw up a simultaneous middle finger in response but Jacob can’t see that. He only hears Jaehyun’s comment and is momentarily so distracted that his hand slips.

There’s a few ways that this evening could have gone differently. For one, Jacob could have chosen to have a normal reaction to the person that is nothing but his best friend going off to fool around with his teammate. He could have drunken a normal amount of alcohol. He could have refused to go outside or he could have refused to do a keg-stand while being half a beer away from shit-faced. But he didn’t do any of those things. So when his hand slips it isn’t really surprising to anyone that he doesn’t manage to catch himself and instead slams face first into the keg.

It takes several stitches to sew up his lip. The same can’t be said for his chipped tooth. But the doctor’s verdict is generally favourable. “It could’ve gone much worse, young man.” He says at he shows Jacob out of the emergency room. Sangyeon, who had been sober, as it turns out, is waiting for him. He doesn’t have a comment as he leads Jacob to his car and drives him back to his apartment. He pulls up to the curb and Jacob is about get out when Sangyeon rests a hand on his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaving Jacob confused, especially because he still feels a considerable degree of tipsy, despite everything that had transpired over the last half hour. “For what?” He asks.

Sangyeon lets out a deep sigh,”I should’ve been there. It was my place, my invitation. I should’ve been responsible. And I wasn’t there.” For the first time Jacob sees his co-captain, usually a steady presence in the team, defeated. His shoulders are hunched over and Jacob realises the pressure that must rest on Sangyeon’s shoulders. He cares a lot, he’s a great co-captain, more responsible than their actual captain, to be honest.

“It’s not like you can be everywhere at once,” Jacob says, even though his insides feel like they're on flames when he thinks about where Sangyeon had disappeared to and with whom. Still, he’s great when he can tease a small smile from the older man’s lips.

“Thank you, Jacob. You’d make a great captain someday.” The man in question is more than a little taken aback.

“Because I showed such a great tendency for responsibility tonight?”

Sangyeon laughs, “No. Because you care, and you can read people very well. You’ll grow into it, don’t worry.” He smiles as if he has insight into the future in a way that Jacob doesn’t. “I’ll take better care of you from now on. But right now…” He looks out the passenger side window, past Jacob. “I think someone’s waiting for you.”

Jacob turns around, seeing you cowered on the steps to his dorm, your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

Jacob waves Sangyeon off as his car drives off. He sits down next to you, bathing in the silence until the car lights have long faded away. When you still remain motionless next to him, he takes your hand in his softly and tugs you up the stairs to his dorm. He’s never been so happy that he has a solo dorm as when you wrap your arms around him fiercely the second his room door slams shut. He huffs as you press all the air out of his lungs.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into the side of his neck and he nods. You look up, your eyes big and shiny from tears that you must’ve cried before he arrived. He cradles your cheek to wipe the lingering traces of them away, but before he has the chance you close the distance between the two of you.

The press of your lips is light as a feather, unsure whether or not you’ve made the right decision. Jacob blames it on the alcohol, in hindsight. Otherwise there is no way he would’ve been ready to throw twenty years of friendship out the window. He moves his lips against yours, hungrily, because he’s afraid you might change your mind. But instead you wrap your arms around him more closely, trailing them up his back and his whole skin brakes out in goosebumps. One of your hands tangles in his hair, much more forceful now he’s given you permission. His hands wander as much as yours, he’s trying to commit every curve, every expanse of your skin to his drunken memory in the worry that this is some near-death-experience-induced hallucination.

But it’s still real when his hands sneak under your shirt, it’s still real when you take of his and start kissing across his chest. It’s still real when he strips you of your clothes and puts his mouth to your soaked core, it’s still real when you beg for more, your whimpers burned into his brain forever. It’s so so real when he enters you and when he feels you constrict around him until he’s releasing into the condom. You’re still real when you’re lying next to him in his tiny, messy dorm room, falling asleep curled into his side.

Unfortunately, it’s still real when he wakes up in the morning to your horrified expression. It’s real when both of you scramble out of bed, putting your clothes on backwards in the hurry and mumbling embarrassed ‘I’m sorry’s to each other. And it is all too real when you basically sprint out of his room only to send him a single text later that day, saying that, for the sake of your friendship, you’d be more than ready to just forget this ever happened.