#fuckin moron I love him

[carterashofficial]

Yeah dude, look directly into the sun. Great idea.

[just-about-nothing]

the SHRIEK i SHRUNK my poor neighbors i'm so sorry to them

[rancher-briar]

I’ve been playing Cassette Beasts for the last few days, and I really gotta say…

Eugene, buddy… stop being so charming and stupid. You’ve got no thoughts, and so much energy, but you also don’t know what you’re doing… just let your big friend strategize while you continue to use big words incorrectly.

[lecliss]

Why is Obito's height and weight listed as 182cm/70.3kg while Tobi is 175cm/55.9kg. THATS THE SAME FUCKING DUDE HOW DID OBITO SHRINK HIMSELF?????

[yell-on-spikemuth]

"Oh you can totally bet that I'll be making sure I'll be standing up front if you ever come to Hoenn. Think you'll ever do a meet and greet after the show? You seem like a pretty cool guy to hang out with."

aw hell yea!

i love doin meet n greets after shows when the situations allow, i love interactin with fans, and Obby for sure loves it too - loves shakin folks hands and meetin their mons n all that

even if i dont do a big ol meet n greet, wouldnt be opposed to meetin up with you anyhow, i appreciate that ya think i seem cool! just prepare to meet Obby too, hes a huge love bug and doesnt always know the meanin of "personal space"

workin with some folks at the moment to try n figure out the best way to go about tourin - its still a huge maybe, but its a big possibility to be a thing in the near future!

[gingerlee-holds]

Do you know what happened to volleeball bo? I remember the community financially supported him a lot so it was weird to see the blog deactivated. I have not been on tumblr for a while so idk what I missed. Hope nothing bad happened!

its a bit of a weird way to remember him by- but yeah he left tumblr because of safety reasons and because other people in this community made it difficult for him to feel safe

i don't want to go into any more detail than that because this isn't a drama blog where i call out other blogs and get into the mud of everything, im too much of a coward for that

but yeah if anyone who actively made his life harder is reading this, i hope you fall in a large jumping cholla with no clothes <3

[oglegoggle]

I miss my ex. He was a total douchebag. I don’t miss him. I miss daily affection. I don’t understand why daily affection is so difficult to earn. I just like want to be held. I miss him because he’s the only person in my entire adult life whom has wanted to hold me every single day.

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[godjustkys]

| mndi 18+

| What a perv.

please give requests.

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Pairing: Top!dom!AMAB!reader x bottom!sub!Dean Winchester.

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Genre: smut.

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Word count: 2,357

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Warning(s): slight feminisation, use of pet names, reader being a cocky asshole (just a lil bit), unprotected sex, reader has clothes on/character does not, bratty Dean >:)

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Request: "can i req perv dean winchester x top male reader? possibly where dean’s jerking off to something that correlates to the reader (like a picture/boxers/whatever works really), but ends up getting caught? he’d usually use his glib tongue to get away, but poor princess is so embarrassed he’s caught jerking off to a guy."

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A/n: i think about dean a lot, putting my headcanons to use here. i need him so badly,,

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You had just gotten back from a grocery trip, putting the bags on the kitchen table. “Fuckin' hell, it's quiet.” You murmured to yourself, your hands on your hips.

Sam was out. Somewhere. Said he had business to attend to. He took Cas with him, so the only one that should be home right now was Dean. At first you thought you'd come home to Dean sitting in the kitchen and drinking, or simply watching the TV.

Neither of those were the case. You slowly walked to Dean's room, thinking to yourself. Just as you reached the door to his bedroom, you opened it immediately, figuring it'd be pointless to knock at this point.

“Dean, will y- woah—” you were in the doorway, standing still, your hand on the door handle.

Dean scrambled to sit up, getting a blanket to cover himself up. “What the hell! Knock, you moron!” He yelled at you, his facial expression clearly offended. Dean swallowed hard, eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus Christ, okay, sorry-” you thought it was funny, how you caught him jerking off. You had a grin on your face, taking in the surroundings for a little while as you took a small step back, planning to close the door and leave Dean alone. Your smile dropped in a matter of seconds when you noticed your shirt — your dirty, bloody shirt that was supposed to be in the laundry,, in the grasp of Dean's hand.

“S'that..” you inquired slowly, squinting your eyes. “Is that my shirt?” You tilted your head to the side, your shoulders slumping. Why would Dean have your shirt in the first place?

“wh—” he looked down at his hand, practically baffled. Once Dean realized you had seen the piece of clothing, his grip tightened. “What? N— no, no that's mine.” He tried hiding it behind his back slowly.

“Dean, that's my shirt.” You pointed out, your facial expression going blank. “Were you-” you paused mid sentence, trying to take in the new information. “Were you jerking off to me?” Your tone had gotten a tad bit more serious.

“Huh?” He turned his head to look at you, wondering if he heard your question right. “No! No way! What in the world are you talking about?” His tone was defensive as he sat up more straight.

“Wait, scratch that. You were jerking off to a guy?” The look on your face was priceless, absolutely stunned. You knew you caught him, he was in a pinch. He wouldn't get out of this easily. “Since when are you so accepting of your attraction to men?”

“Hold on, does that mean you find me attractive? Am I attractive to you, Dean?” You fixed up your shirt, trying your best to look presentable. “Am I hot enough to get you off? Hm?” That same grin crept back on your face. Being friends with Dean was one thing, annoying and teasing the absolute shit out of him was another. You loved every minute of it.

Dean's gaze shifted to the floor, the feeling of heat cursing through him. Was he getting embarrassed? No, he had to come up with something to derail this conversation.

“You're being fucking ridiculous, [Name], get the hell out.” Dean made eye contact with you, trying to keep his poker face up.

“Awh, is my poor princess embarrassed to be caught jerking off to a guy?” You cooed, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. “You know damn well that it is my shirt.” You spoke, making your way towards Dean. Before the other could respond, you reached around and snatched the shirt.

You held it up, taking a proper look. “Yep,” You nodded with an affirming tone. “It is, in fact, my shirt.” Dean looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he huffed, clearly annoyed or even embarrassed. “Fuck off, out of my room, now.” He commanded, his voice ever-so slightly shaky.

“Ay, what the hell? I caught you jerking off to me, and now you're trynna kick me out?” You tilted your head to the side, throwing the shirt onto the ground. “Come on, I gotta know if you're in love with me or not,” you pushed further, your tone firm.

Dean scoffed as he laid back down with a small thud, the blanket still covering his lower half. He brought his arm up to his face, covering his eyes. “No. M'not. Get out,” Even though Dean denied it, his tone didn't seem that confident or convincing.

“You want me to get out and leave my shirt so you can continue jerking off to me? Orrr,, perhaps, there's a chance you want me to stay and get the real deal?” You didn't give it up, how could you? Dean Winchester, an absolute ladies man, trying to get off to his friend, a guy.

“What are you talking about??” He asked in an almost offended tone, taking his arm off of his face to look at you.

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Deep breaths and groans filled the silent room, your hands gripping his firm thighs as you slowly pushed your cock in. Both of Dean's legs were over your shoulders. “Shit.. t'feels weird,” He breathed out, his left hand resting atop of yours, right hand freely on the bed itself.

“Yeah, well, now you know how a woman feels when you fuck her ass.” You said in a taunting tone, not taking your eyes away from your lower half. The sight of your cock slowly disappearing in his entrance - god.

Dean muttered something out that was followed by a grunt, his hand gripping the sheets underneath the two of you a little. “Jesus Chr— ist..” His voice faltered mid-word, eyelids fluttering shut. “Relax, Dean, relax. You're doin' good,” You encouraged him in a gentle manner, rubbing circles on his thighs with your thumbs to soothe him - calm him down.

“I am- relaxed.” He grumbled out, letting out a small wince. “Wouldn't say it feels like that,” You leaned down a bit, pushing on Dean's legs. Soon enough, you fully bottomed out. “Need a moment?” You asked, eyes flickering all over Dean's torso. “You take me for a wimp?” He said breathily, opening his eyes to make eye contact with you.

Once you looked into Dean's eyes, you got so lost. He looked breathtaking like this, the look in his eyes - full of lust, neediness and want, the glossiness of them. His slightly furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, his hand on yours,, the hand gripping the sheets.. so perfect. All of him was perfect. “Fuckin' hell..” You muttered out, moving your left hand to Dean's cock, very slowly jerking him off.

“Mff-..mm.” Soft noises escaped his mouth, followed by a sigh of content. Your touch stimulated him to no end. “You never got to cum, right? I interrupted you,” You spoke in a delighted tone, a smirk plastered on your face. “Why don't we finish off what you started, huh?” Your hand's pace had quickened with your sentence as Dean tilted his head back, his blinking getting more frequent and excessive.

“Fuckkkk..” He said, his voice quiet and low. His breath hitched in his throat for a short moment as you started slowly thrusting in and out. Agonizingly slowly. “Did you grab my shirt from the laundry?” You questioned suddenly, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Cause it was dirty, you know, I'm curious.” You added, a grin flashing across your face.

“Mmh— nhgggh!—” Dean breathed out simple whines and whimpers. You were not sure if he even heard you, your thrusting getting more rhythmic and deeper. It was all new to the other - he'd usually do the fucking. “Hey Dean-oooo, I asked you a question baby,” You cooed, thumb rubbing over the slit of his dick, putting pressure on it. “Son of a bitch— shit!” He pressed his head back into the pillow, hand gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. Dean had a hard time not squeezing your hand as well.

You moved your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you pushed his arm, making his forearm rest beside his head, pressing his hand into the mattress a bit as you propped yourself up. “Breathe Dean, jeez,” You said with a small breathless scoff, your other hand pumping his cock continuously. “Sh— shut up,, I hate y..you, hhgg!-” Dean managed to speak, his sentence truly holding no malice or hostility behind his tone of voice, moving his head to the side and letting out a hiss at the feeling of your cock inside him. “Do you?” The grin never left your face. “Not only did I catch you jerking off to me, or my clothes rather, but you're letting me fuck you as well. That speaks volumes to me baby,” You shifted on your knees, finding a completely new angle. You pushed in, reaching deep. With that, Dean choked out a gasp, his eyes shooting open as he arched his back off of the bed slightly.

Almost immediately Dean let go of the sheets, bringing his hand to his mouth, covering it. He let out a couple muffled moans, really starting to sweat. Your thrusting pace quickened. It was harsh and deep. “You feelin' shy? We're alone, no one's gonna hear you, Dean.” You mumbled, looking down at your hand jerking him off. His cock twitched, leaking precum. You let out a groan at the feeling of Dean clenching around you.

At this point Dean was seeing stars behind his eyes, the feeling was entirely new to him yet it felt so good. Too good, maybe. He whimpered against his hand, his thighs tensing as they shuddered. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, not exactly directed towards him. You removed your hand from his cock and grasped his wrist, removing his own hand from his mouth so he wouldn't muffle his moans anymore. You pinned it next to his head on the mattress, almost the same as his other hand.

Of course Dean tried resisting being pinned, but you did all of that while fucking him mercilessly and relentlessly. “oh- ah! fucckk—” He bit down on his bottom lip to try and suppress his moaning. You suddenly hit his prostate with a harsh thrust, earning a loud whine from Dean, his one hand clenching into a fist, the other squeezing yours. “Nnh! Shit! Yes yes yes, just like that-” he rambled out, his chest rising and falling with each breath that he took, his lips parted.

His legs started trembling over your shoulders, toes curling. You let a soft groan leave your lips, leaning your body down again, Dean's knees inches away from his chest. He seemed more flexible than you thought. “Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” You said in a confident tone, letting out a soft sigh of content, your thrusts ever so slightly losing rhythm.

“Ghhh— pleaseee, pleasepleaseplease,” He whined, his muscles tensed visibly as his body spasmed, shaking his head. You abused his prostate, most likely bruised it as well. Dean squirmed underneath you, his arms aching - couldn't put his hands where he wanted with you pinning him to the bed. His cock throbbed as it was lightly pressed between the both of your abdomens. “w- I'm close! shit! i'm so close!-”

“Go on, cum for me, you've been so good,” You praised him in a softer voice, trying to keep up the same fast pace just to push Dean over the edge. His eyes shut tight, pushing his arms up in an attempt to free himself. As you noticed this, you let go of both of his hands and he almost instinctively wrapped them around your neck, pulling you in as close as possible. Without any further warning, Dean came, making a mess on his own stomach. He choked out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, panting afterwards, eyebrows only stitching together further.

“There we go, good boy,” You murmured, gasping softly as Dean's walls tightened around you. He was starting to get a bit overstimulated with the way you continued pounding into him after he came. One hand of Dean's gripped your shirt, the other holding onto the back of your neck. You felt your own climax nearing.

“Mmhhh,” You hummed out, placing open-mouthed kisses on Dean's neck as a way to distract yourself a little. You ended up only chasing your own orgasm, your cock twitching inside Dean's hole. He shuddered, fingers tangling in your hair, slightly pulling on the locks. “There- there, right there-” Dean moaned out, his voice hoarse and raspy, trying to ride down his own orgasm.

Your hips stuttered, slowly breaking the pace. You were close, almost ready to pull out. Dean felt slight emptiness near his prostate due to you not pushing back in and he whined. “N— no, no, inside, come inside.” Dean rasped out, holding you close to him. You raised an eyebrow at this, nonetheless complying with the other's request. “Fuck Dean, you're kinky,” you joked, pushing your cock all the way in.

His legs continued to shake, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “g-god,” Dean managed to speak through the string of moans and whimpers he let out. With one harsh final thrust and a groan, you came inside Dean, the warm liquid pooling inside him. He let out a shaky sigh, his grip on you loosening. You dropped your head down and leaned your forehead on Dean's shoulder, relaxing. “This fulfilled your expectations of me?” you asked, clearly out of breath. “Or do you wanna go again?” You whispered, your hands moving to remove Dean's legs from your shoulders, lowering them and making them wrap around your waist.

Dean paused as you lifted your head back up again, looking down at him. He made eye contact with you, his eyes ever so slightly teary. “You think you got enough stamina for another round?” He mocked you, his panting very audible, voice quieter than usual. “You're a little shit,” You chuckled, shifting your position to a sitting one. “You're getting what you asked for,” with a tight grip on his hips, you started moving again.

[readerthatreadsss]

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

Steven.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

[dameronology]

complex (logan)

summary: honestly i was just listening to complex by katie macleod and i started typing and this is what happened, it's only 800 words but hey-ho.

warnings: arguments, so much swearing, logan is kind of a dick

Your residual anger hung thick in the air like heat in the summer.

Your apartment was full of signs—little reminders of your argument, tiny clues to point to the hurt in your chest. The blankets on the sofa were still tangled from where Logan had slept there last night. There were two empty bottles of whisky beside a smashed plate on the coffee table, matched with angry claw marks where he'd made the wooden structure his victim. Most obviously, you and the man you loved stood on each end of the room and the argument, chests heaving from shouting and fists balled up with rage. 

"I fucking hate you," you declared.

"No, you don't," Logan deadpanned, "you hate me right now, but really, you love me."

"Don't," you paused, taking a deep breath, "don't tell me how to feel."

"But you're allowed to tell me how to feel, huh?" he challenged.

There was another strangled sigh in your mouth. You couldn't keep sighing. You needed to come up with something new. Yelling had never been your thing. Maybe Logan's, but not yours. He hadn't even yelled for this entire fight. There had been heated exchanges, sure, but even in his most frustrated moments, he hadn't dared raise his voice. He had that much self-control.

"I can't look at you," your eyes fell to the floor.

Logan let out a snort. "Can't look at me, huh? Can't look me in the eye?"

This whole thing had started because the furry fucking moron had said something stupid. Then, he'd made it even worse when you'd pointed it out. It was like Logan had brought himself a proverbial shovel and was rewarding himself by digging a hole. He was ten feet down, and he couldn't see anything, save if he looked up and saw you glancing down at him with bleary eyes in his self-sustained grave. You could have reached down your hand to help him out but it was too far.

"Fuck. You."

Your chest heaved as you shoved past him, shoulders hitting his with a thud. Logan had barely even processed what had happened before the bedroom door slammed in his face. The force caused a picture on the shelf beside it to fall, the glass smashing into three separate pieces. He leant down to pick it up, turning the frame over. It was a picture of you at Coney Island two years ago; the wind was blowing your hair back, faced pressed to Logan's as he scowled. They were sweeter times.

Logan glanced up at the ceiling - or the sky, whatever the closest thing is.

"Whoever the fuck is up, that's not fucking funny."

He stopped at the door.

To say his heart broke when he heard you crying on the other side would be an understatement. There was a lot of sounds that Logan hated; his ring tone, his alarm sound in the morning, Wade Wilson's voice...but above all, the sound of you crying felt like a punch to the throat. It was even worse for him to know that he was the one who caused it.

Logan didn't stop before he opened the door. He booted it, body crossing the room in seconds to meet you at the bed. You were curled up, hugging his pillow to your chest and crying into yours.

He fell to his knees beside you, warm hands pulling your arms away from your face and towards him instead. A pair of strong arms came to wrap around you and in seconds, you were pressed to his chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "don't cry. Please don't cry. Punch me, slap me, fuckin' kill me if you want but please don't cry."

A little sob escaped your throat. "You're so frustrating."

"I know," Logan gave you a small smile, "christ, I know. And I am so fucking sorry."

He re-centred you on the bed, organising the pillows so that they were behind you. The mattress dipped beside you as he climbed under the covers, pulling you back into his side. You were still glaring at him, still refusing to throw you a ladder down his special grave.

"I let my anger get the best of me sometimes," Logan said, "maybe I don't shout at you or get angry the way I do at other people, but it...it manifests in more fucked up ways, I think. I like arguing. I love riling people up. I don't like doing that to you, though."

"You did, though."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmured. "I'm trying my best. I know my best is absolute bullshit but...I am trying."

You tangled your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I know. It's okay if you want to keep trying."

Logan softly smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[thecapricunt1616]

Kinktober Day 12 🎃

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): There was a knock at the front door, causing Carmy to get up from his position on the couch doodling in his sketchbook “That should be the delivery guys” he said, slipping his jacket on so he could meet them outside to make sure everything was just so with your new bedroom set he’d ordered for you both. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Howdy! I hope you enjoy yesterdays installment of Kinktober that I forgot to post haha! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k+ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Smut, Authority kink, Swearing, Not edited 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗸𝗮-𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀 & @/𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀

There was a knock at the front door, causing Carmy to get up from his position on the couch doodling in his sketchbook “That should be the delivery guys” he said, slipping his jacket on so he could meet them outside to make sure everything was just so with your new bedroom set he’d ordered for you both. 

“I’ll put the cats in the bathroom” you said, knowing they would likely try and make a run for the door. After about 15 minutes of waiting inside for Carmy to return with the delivery men, telling them where to go- he still hadn’t come back in. You went over to the door, looking out the little window next to it to see Carmy running a hand through his hair with a hand on his hip, and snapping something at the delivery driver. 

You cracked open the door to hear what was going on “no- no first fuckin’ strike was the dresser having a huge scratch on the side. Second was the wrong fuckin color! How do you get stark white and cream mixed up? Send it back and gimme’ a fuckin’ refund this is the third time you guys pull this shit never dealin’ with your company again mark refused delivery or whatever on your stupid form” he snapped at them before starting back inside. 

You shut the door and scurry back to the couch so he wouldn’t know you were listening and try to ignore the dampness growing in your panties. He came inside, shutting the door a bit harder then usual and huffing as he shrugged off his jacket, putting it back on the rack. 

“Sorry princess, no new shit t’day. Morons still can’t figure it out. We’re gonna find another set we like, yeah?” He opened the door to the bathroom for the cats before coming to sit back down with you. 

“That’s ok- you look pretty riled up” you said as he plopped down, crawling into his lap and straddling him. 

“Yeah cause I wanted you to have that new bed like I promised an’ they can’t get simple shit right” he huffed a bit, eyes fluttering shut when you rubbed his chest in light circles. 

“I think it’s sexy when you get like that” you said, partial truth and partial distraction to calm him down, bringing your lips to his and kissing him lovingly. He hummed, squeezing your ass and spanking you playfully, kissing you harder and squeezing your cheeks in his hands. 

“Ye’? You like it when I bitch people out?” He asked when you pulled away, leaving hot kisses along your jaw. 

“I love it. So hot when you let the bear out” you giggle as he nips your earlobe, tilting your head to the side to give better access to your neck. He stuck his hands in your crewneck, rubbing his cool hands over your hips making you shiver a bit. 

“Sorry baby, f’got my hands were cold” he stuck his hand down the front of your leggings, causing you to to gasp in surprise laced pleasure as he slid his ice like fingers over your clit. “Mm you do like that, huh? Already so wet” he murmured into your skin, continuing to kiss and bite along the sensitive flesh. 

“Fuckin love it, bear” you whine out, grinding onto his hand just right, your bottom lip coming between your teeth while your head dropped back in bliss. 

“You wanna ride my fingers baby? Mmm?” He asked, lips pressing kissed to the column of your throat in warm, wet pecks. 

“Please- please” you breathe out and he chuckled a bit at your begging, pressing his forefinger and middle finger to your core, causing you to let out a whiny moan “please bear” you manage out and he slips them in curling them against your front wall making your spine arch slightly. 

“Ffffuck- yes- feels so good” you whined, grinding your hips in tandem with the thrust of his fingers. 

“Tha’s it princess- that’s it take what you need Angel” he said hotly in the shell of your ear, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit. Your jaw dropped as you rolled your hips faster, crying out when he pressed the tips of his fingers into your g spot. 

“Carmy- Carmy- Carmy” you choke out, walls clenching around his fingers as your peak approached. He chuckled into your skin, kissing your temple chastly 

“Ye’ baby? I’m right here- what is it, tell me what you need” he chides playfully, moving his fingers faster when he realized your hips began to shake as you got closer and closer. 

“Need to cum” you choke out, eyes fluttering shut in bliss “please- please” you begged, voice wavering 

“You wanna cum on my fingers baby?” He pressed his fingers against your g spot harder, causing your hips to buck. 

“Please- please daddy” you begged, pulling him into a sloppy kiss and he smiles into your mouth, pulling away just enough to say 

“Go ahead” before putting his lips on your again, swallowing your moans as you let go. Your thighs tightening around his lap as your orgasm washed over you,  so intense the fuzzy feeling washed up into your chest and over your scalp, a warmth only to be found with this special sort of relief. 

He grunts into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your heat pulsing and clenching around his fingers and sucking him in. “Jesus so fuckin tight- wanna feel this pretty pussy clenching around m’cock babygirl” he tugged his hand out of your pants, swiftly laying you on the couch and tugging off your leggings and now soaked panties. 

“Please - god yes, need it, need you” you pushed your crewneck up over your breasts so he could suck on them and play with them while fucked you. He pulled his length out of his grey sweatpants, lining himself up before sinking into you easily with a breathy sigh. 

“Love it when you beg f’me like that bunny sound so fuckin pretty” he grunted as he started to thrust, the afterpulses of your orgasm still working through you. Your back arches slightly into his cupped hands as he pawed at your breasts, rubbing your pebbled nipples with the pads of his thumbs as he snapped his hips into yours, the sound of skin on skin being heard throughout the living room. 

“Y-yes god fuck me harder bear” you whined, hand reaching down to rub your clit and he huffs a chuckle as he thrusted up into you harder, long forceful strokes that had that red hot coil tightening in your belly as he does. 

“Don’worry princess, I’m gonna take care’a’you” 

Fin.

Tag List:  - @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich  - @gallaghersgal - @maggiesarchives - @carmybrainworms - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

[chaostroberry1]

I need a part 2 of Beelzebub x Arché! Reader. What if the gods held a court meeting to see the potential danger of the reader and Odin's goals. When Odin wants to evade the assumptions of the people in the congregation (or even to the point of telling the reader to kill everyone there), the reader instead says that he does not want to destroy the people of gods or humans because he plans to marry Beelzebub.

Or showing how he REALLY loves Beelzebub by fuckin him shamelessly infront of them all.

Tyy pookie!! ^⁠_⁠^

Bro I love this😭 primordial god reader is mad interesting.

Beelzebub × Dom!male!primordial god!reader

....

All eyes were on you, as you as you feasted on food, ignoring everyone's prying eyes. Man, food has really became tastier huh? It's been so long since you've eaten like this. Beelzebub just sat there uncomfortably, glancing at you a few times before returning his eyes down.

Everyone was suspicious of Odin, if anything bad was included in his plans that could potentially lead to the destruction of the gods, everyone knew they had to stop him.

Odin was obviously aware that there were too many of the strongest gods there, capable of ganging up on his ass. But, he knew that none of them combined, could leave a single scratch on you. But look at you over there, moronic and stupidly eating food without a care about giving respect. Hey, to your defense, you were alive before zues, and possible as old as the other primordials.

it should be THEM to pay their respects to you. But it was a little difficult to believe that you were older, looking at how young you acted. like a matured/(not really) matured young adult who probably eats pizza slices for dinner.

"Hey, old man. Are you sure you ain't up to anything suspicious? Things don't seem very 'normal' to me." Shiva spoke, two of his arms on his head while having his other two arms crossed. Odin closed his eyes, starting to get irritated, wanting to avoid anyone's assumptions and suspicions of his plans.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"then what about the guy sitting in this room right now? Doesn't seem to me like he's anyone you'd just walk by." Loki teasingly joked, knowing he'd get on the old man's nerves. "I agree, seeing a primordial god...isn't something you'd just see out of the blue" Thor spoke, everyone gathering their assumptions and ideas for the so called "all-realm-altering god".

Finally, Odin's last nerve popped, before he slowly spoke. "(M/n), if you want to prove to them that you are really so powerful, why don't you just kill everyone here?"

Everyone's eyes popped open, immediately turning their heads to you, who stopped chewing, your eyes slowly darting up to meet their gazes.

"No."

"what do you mean 'no'? You don't plan on killing all the gods and ruling over all realms?"

"Its not that I can't. I'm simply uninterested." With one more chew, you continued "I plan to marry Beelzebub." And with that statement, everyone was speechless. Zues chuckling while Loki grinned, "my my, I didn't know that even an all powerful deity would be interested in such.. matters~"

"ooh! Ooh! I have a question! How strong are primordial gods? Can we fight? Please please please??" A hyper, dog like god spoke. His name was...Anubis? Right, that's his name. He's quite energetic, you only chuckled and shook your head. "No, not right now. Once I settle in, I'll give you a good fight, okay buddy?" He whimpered sadly at your response, sitting down with a huge frown.

Then, you suddenly got serious as you looked back to the others.

"now, speaking of our marriage. If any of you try to interfere with my plans, it will end in bloodshed. Every single one of you will have their heads displayed on a shelf. Do not test me."

That statement was enough to make everyone feel dread. They knew that no matter how strong or respected they were, they can not lay anything on you. You were far more than just powerful. An unmeasured type of power that many seeked to have, but could never get.

Your hands trailed onto Beelzebub's face, giving him a heated kiss, and a beast like grin. His pretty face was a huge turn on.

you felt lust grow when you eyed Beelzebub, before standing up and bending him over. Everyone's mouth dropped when you started brutally fucking him at an intense speed, as he just took it, whining and crying for you. His legs spread wide open, his hole already very agape, which was proof of your cock inside of him a little while ago before the meeting.

"still so wide and pretty for me..."

Everyone present just decided to leave, knowing that they couldn't utter a word in your presence. Beelzebubs moans the only thing that could be heard in the room while you put him in multiple positions.

Odin sighed, deciding that he'd just have to talk to you some other time. For now, everyone should just leave you to the poor god, who was bended over and now covered in kisses and hickies. Your wife, male wife, as you'd like to call it.

When I tell you all of Valhalla shook from the force and speed of your pounding, I mean it.

You couldn't wait for the marriage, you'd fuck him in front of everyone after you'd seal your kiss, and that was a mental note you made sure to remember. You wer gonna show everyone who your territory was. And how they couldn't do a thing about it. Man, he'd look so pretty in a wedding dress.

You couldn't wait.

[illwynd]

Eternally confused by assertions that Thor and Loki don't like each other.

They love each other, obviously. And sometimes they fuckin hate each other (well, Loki sometimes hates Thor. And Thor is sometimes at least very goddamn righteously pissed off at Loki, whether he'd call it "hate" or not.)

But they do also like each other.

Thor clearly likes Loki. Enjoys and appreciates his company and admires many things about him, despite their many conflicts. And although that's a comics reference, consider Thor's "well of course I want to have my brother come with me on an adventure!" attitude when he's trying to convince his friends to go to Jotunheim with him at the beginning of Thor 2011, and it seems like it's pretty applicable to the MCU as well, at least before TR's moronic retcons.

Is it mutual, though?

... is that a real question?

Loki idolizes him, wishes he could measure up to him, thinks the sun goddamn rises and sets on Thor. "Loki felt no rancor [...] -- his stepbrother was perfect: beautiful, powerful, golden. He adored him. And if Thor repaid that adoration with little slights and humiliations, it was a price Loki was only too willing to pay for his company" (R. Rodi, Loki: Blood Brothers). Yes, another comics reference, but doesn't that also jibe with the movie depiction of Loki who clearly has a less than ideal relationship with the rest of Thor's crew but hangs out with them nonetheless because that's the only way to spend time with Thor?

Genuinely, I can't think of a better metric for liking someone than wanting to hang out with them even when the circumstances make that less than fun for other reasons. Seeing their company as satisfying even if you're both just sitting there doing something that would otherwise suck. And they both seem to have each other as first choice for that, with everyone else a very distant second if they rank at all.

So I just don't get how anyone can try to slot them into some cliche of "siblings who love each other i guess but also can't stand each other at all." These dumb bastards would spend their lives in each other's pockets if they could. They probably had their own secret language as kids, like figured out a way to get around the Allspeak to invent one no one else could understand. Anyone else that either of them dates had better be ready to have the other brother as a constant topic of conversation, because the moment you express annoyance at that they're going to be shoving breadsticks into their bag and making excuses to gtfo. "they don't like each other" what the fuck are y'all talking about.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 12: It Doesn’t Need to Mean Anything

You and Joel take Sarah to the concert. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 11, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Joel and Goldie are still morons. Also... mild smut 🫠 Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 10.7K (no one look at me)

A/N: So much thanks to my beautiful bestie @dundienominee, official Swiftie Consultant for this chapter. She was integral to song selection and Eras Tour outfit choices because I am too casual of a fan to have the knowledge to do that well. Thank you thank you thank you for this and for always letting me bounce the angstiest shit off you, Bestie! Love you!!

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You stopped sleeping over at Joel’s. 

The distance took more adjustment than you’d expected and it wasn’t something either of you had explicitly stated, it just felt… necessary. You were getting too close to Joel - not something you would have even considered possible, once upon a time - and you needed to pull back before you ended up wounded and alone like you’d been more than a decade earlier. 

He began separating from you that night, when his hand was still holding your face and your body was still tight against his. You kissed him until he pulled away - not wanting it to end - and when he finally broke the kiss, your faces stayed close together for a moment, close enough that your noses touched and you could see the reflection from the sparks of the fireworks in his eyes. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his palm at the small of your back, the roughness of the callus under his fingers at the nape of your neck. If someone had asked you, in that moment, where you were, you couldn’t have told them. 

And then a gunshot cracked through the air, making the both of you jump and shock away from each other. 

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Joel snapped, looking around as though there was anyone else around you at the water’s edge to blame. “Shit’s dangerous and there are still idiots who decide to shoot guns in the air just because the goddamn calendar changed, fuckin’ morons…” 

There were a few feet between you now and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and your nipples were pricked from the cold and the kiss and probably visible through the thin cotton. You crossed your arms over your chest, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed. 

“At least we’re in the middle of nowhere,” you said. “Less chance of the bullet falling on a person…” 

“Still,” he muttered, crossing his arms too. “Makes me nervous. Dumbasses like that should have their guns taken away, don’t act right…” 

You tightened your jaw but nodded, still watching him. 

“Sorry,” he said. You weren’t sure why. “We should probably get back inside, though. Gotta get the kid to bed, she’s cranky if she don’t get enough sleep….” 

“Can’t have a cranky Sarah,” you smiled a little. 

Joel looked at you for a moment and, for a delusional second, you half expected him to kiss you again. Then, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his flannel pants and rocked back on his heels once before starting up the hill toward the house. For the first few steps, he walked to the side almost as much as he did forward, until there was a good five feet between the two of you. You ignored the pang of hurt inside your chest and gave him a tight smile as he held the back door open for you, finding Tommy and Sarah on their feet and yelling at the TV as they raced in Mario Kart. 

He sat as far from you as he could at breakfast the next morning, taking the spot beside Sarah and across from Tommy at the kitchen table and pressing himself against the wall in the hallway when you ran into him there and needed past, making sure your body didn’t so much as brush against his the rest of the holiday weekend. 

When you went back to normal life, it reminded you of the few days after Joel had accidentally seen your shirtless selfie: radio silence. 

This time, you refused to crack first. If he regretting kissing you, that was on him. It wasn’t like you’d begged him to. Hell, you hadn’t even asked him to. He’d offered - after kissing you out of the blue just the day before no less - and now he couldn’t even look at you. Or text you, apparently. 

But you were starting to get a few steps beyond anxious when you still hadn’t heard from him by Friday afternoon. You hadn’t spent a weekend without Joel since you’d found each other again. You weren’t really sure what to do with yourself if you weren’t with Joel. Even though there was definitely a book you should be writing, doing that when you weren’t sure where you stood with your best friend seemed impossible. 

Still determined to not be the first one to reach out but not willing to face the prospect of being alone in your house with your cat - and with the temptation to call your almost ex-husband who actually had texted you since you’d last seen him - you got on Tinder. 

You swiped during a break between classes after triple checking that your age parameters wouldn’t catch any students, largely striking out until you found Stephen’s profile. He was a professor, too, but at Austin Community College. There was a picture of him in Napa Valley in his profile and one of him with a little girl (one he said was his niece) sitting on his shoulders. You smiled at that. You didn’t think you’d ever have children - though, really, you wanted some - but there was something about knowing a man was good with kids… 

You swiped right and got the alert that it was a match. He’d already swiped on you. Your heart sped up a little. Maybe you weren’t completely undatable, after all. 

Stephen messaged you just a few minutes later. 

Hi! How’s your Friday? 

You were working on typing a reply when another message popped up. 

Not to be a creep but… are you really who you say you are? 

You frowned at your phone for a moment. 

Hi back! It’s alright for the first Friday of a new semester. How about you? And yes, the last time I checked. Why?

It took him a little longer to respond that time. 

Let me know if I’m failing on the creep front but I may be what you call a fan. 

You laughed once. 

A fan? 

A fan. Your writing is brilliant, I can’t help it. 

Well, I have good editors. 

I’m sure you do but editors only get you so far. Trust me, I teach the intro English classes, I know. 

You laughed again and the two of you messaged back and forth until you had to go teach your last class of the day. When you finished, you checked your phone before leaving the lecture hall and there was a message waiting for you. 

I hope this isn’t too fast but can I take you out tomorrow? I’m sure you already have plans but on the off chance you don’t… 

You smiled. 

No plans that don’t involve my cat. What did you have in mind? 

Stephen, as it happened, had plenty in mind.

After getting a drink and chatting for a bit, he took you to salsa dancing night, something you’d never had thought to do yourself in a million years. The music was loud, the room was crowded and the energy of it all made your skin pebble as you smiled. 

“C’mon,” he held his hand out to you. “Let’s dance.” 

“Oh, no,” you waved him off. “I can’t.” 

“I’ll show you,” he smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He led you to a quiet corner of the dance floor and showed you the most basic steps and you let him guide you through it as you watched your feet and tried not to step on his toes. By the end, you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe and he was laughing, too, putting an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to a booth in the corner. 

Stephen got you a cocktail and settled in across from you, the two of you talking about the semester so far and books and your favorite places to travel. 

You were surprised to find that you were having… well, fun. You hadn’t really had fun out with someone who wasn’t Joel in so long the concept seemed almost foreign to you. And Stephen was smart, you had shared interests, he was sweet and funny and insightful. You liked him. 

But… he wasn’t Joel. 

That was the thought you were trying to shake when he left you alone at the table, excusing himself to the bathroom and to grab another round of drinks and you decided to check your phone. 

Gale had texted you, seeing if you wanted to get coffee. Like the last few texts he’d sent, you didn’t respond. You knew, if you did, you’d end up back in his bed and you’d never be able to move on from him, not really. Hell, you’d let yourself become the other woman while he carried on with your younger, prettier, thinner replacement, keeping her on his arm at every faculty event and book release he used to bring you to while fucking you on the side. A mistress to your own husband. Pathetic.

But the temptation to respond was still there. If there was one man besides Joel who’d been able to hold your attention, it was Gale. When you’d met him, you hadn’t been sure you’d ever recover from loving Joel. It seemed like he would be there, as some part of you, forever. And that was true, he never really left. It was more that you seemed to find room inside yourself to love someone who wasn’t Joel. You realized now that it hadn’t been able to love him as much as you did Joel - or even, really, in the same way - but you did love him. That, now that you were faced with the intensity of how Joel seemed to take hold of you, seemed miraculous. You didn’t expect to find that feeling again so easily.

You looked toward the bathrooms, where you knew Stephen had disappeared to. Stephen, the man who you had every reason to have feelings for, who had taken you out for a great date, who could be someone that could pull you out of this hideous pattern with Joel and Gale if you just gave him the chance. 

You sighed and closed your texts just as a new one came through, this one from Joel. 

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard from him in so long that just seeing his name hit you hard. You glanced up. Stephen was just coming out of the men’s room and heading for the bar. 

You opened the text. 

This radio silence shit sucks. 

You scoffed a little. 

You started it. 

He responded immediately. 

You at home? Come over. Sarah’s about to go to bed, we can watch the next Curtis and Viper commentary in the marathon. 

Sorry, I can’t tonight. 

You looked up to the bar again, Stephen still waiting to talk to the bartender. By the time you looked back down at your phone, Joel had texted back. 

Why not? Puck will behave for a few hours, promise. 

You frowned. 

Believe it or not, I’m not home with my cat on a Saturday night. 

Bullshit.

Is not. I’m on a date, actually. I do have a life outside of you, you know. 

Stephen was just getting to the bar to order when your phone screen lit up, Joel sticking his tongue out at you taking over the whole of it as he called you. 

You sighed and answered it. 

“Hi.” 

“Who the fuck are you on a date with?” Joel demanded. “It had better not be fucking Brad…” 

“So good to hear from you,” you said. “How have you been for the past, I don’t know, WEEK.” 

“Five days. Answer the question, Goldie,” he said. “Are you out with your goddamn husband?” 

“No,” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m out with a guy named Stephen, he’s very nice actually…” 

“Who the fuck is Stephen?” 

“I met him on Tinder, thank you very much,” you said. 

“What?” Joel said and you could picture him leaning forward on his couch, his elbow on his knee. “Wait, when? I didn’t vet some fucker named Stephen…” 

“You don’t get to vet people when you don’t talk to me for a week,” you hissed into the phone, glancing at the bar to see Stephen paying for the drinks. “Besides, I don’t need you to review my damn dates like some kind of baby sitter…” 

“Five days. And you have shit taste in men,” he cut you off. “So yeah, you do.” 

“Yeah, well, when you ghost me…” 

“I didn’t fuckin’ ghost you!” 

“When you GHOST me for a week…” 

“Five days!” 

“…you don’t get to judge me for my life choices!” 

“I didn’t ghost you,” he snapped. “I thought we could both use a little space…” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And I didn’t think you’d do something stupid when I left you unsupervised for 30 goddamn seconds!” 

“OK this isn’t stupid,” you said. “He’s a nice guy, he’s an English professor who likes wine and has actually asked me questions about myself…” 

“Look at you go.” 

“Fuck off,” you said, watching as Stephen headed back to the table with drinks. “He’s coming back, I have to go.” 

“No, hold on…” 

“Bye!” 

You hung up and slapped the phone face down on the table with a little too much force as Stephen smiled, setting your cocktail in front of you. 

“If that’s a friend calling to get you out of this, I promise I won’t give you a hard time,” he said, a slightly teasing edge to his voice. 

“No,” you laughed. “Well, I mean, it is a friend but no, not calling to get me out of it. Just a friend with a history of just the worst timing and a total inability to read the room.”

“She sounds great,” he laughed back. 

You didn’t correct him on the gender, instead just laughing with him and taking a sip of your drink.

The two of you closed the bar down and went to Waffle House after, sitting on opposite sides of the booth so you could stretch out and put your feet up as you pushed your syrup soaked chocolate chip waffle around on your plate. 

“So,” you said as you watched Stephen from across the table. “Not to put a damper on things but… I feel like you should know that I’m not looking for anything too serious right now…” 

“Oh,” Stephen frowned a little. “Can… Can I ask why?” 

“My life is kind of complicated at the moment?” You said it more like a question, as though the difficulties were somehow negotiable. “My divorce isn’t finalized yet, my sister is pregnant and I’m her only support system, I have a book deadline later this year…” I can’t stop thinking about kissing my best friend. You didn’t say that. “I don’t feel like I can really be a great partner to anyone right now. But I would like someone I can have fun with when I can? If you’re OK with that?” 

He nodded slowly, looking at his mug of coffee for a moment. 

“Do you know how long it’s going to be complicated?” He asked. “Just… Cards on the table, I already really like you. I don’t want to get in over my head here.” 

“Another few months at least,” you said. “But not forever. At least, I hope not forever.” 

He nodded again, turning his mug slowly on the table and you watched as the handle went back and forth. 

“I can handle a few months,” he said eventually, looking over at you. 

You smiled a little, wishing that him saying that made your heart pick up the way it did when Joel touched you. 

“Good,” you said. “Me too.” 

When the two of you left the restaurant, he went to kiss you goodbye but you dodged it, kissing him on the cheek instead. By the time you were home, you had a flurry of texts from Joel, the last one demanding to know when you made it home safely. 

I’m home, you control freak. 

It was so late you didn’t expect a response but one came through anyway as you stood at your bathroom sink taking off your makeup. 

Glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere. 

Why are you still up? Go to BED! 

I can’t sleep if I know you’re out there with some random! 

You rolled your eyes. 

Well now that you know no one has stuffed me in the trunk of their car… 

I’ll try to care less in the future. 

“Jesus,” you muttered to yourself as Joel texted again. 

Lunch tomorrow? 

Tomorrow Sunday or tomorrow Monday? You wrote. It’s after midnight.

Lunch Sunday, he said stop being a dick.

You laughed a little at that. At least things weren’t that different, even if you wished they were. 

Lunch the next day felt normal, even as Joel demanded to see Stephen’s Tinder profile and look at some of his messages. Most things went back to normal after that, too. Everything except for the sleepovers. 

But now that you were getting ready to leave for Dallas for the concert, you were nervous. You had one hotel room, a small suite the two of you had picked out together, one with two beds in the bedroom and a pull out sofa in the living room. When you were booking the trip, it made sense. Sarah could sleep in a bed with either of you or in the living room on her own and either way, you and Joel wouldn’t be beholden to the bedtime of an 11-year-old. It’s not like you needed space from each other then. 

Now, things felt different. It had been three months since you’d last shared a room with Joel. The casual intimacy that had existed between you had evaporated like mist and you wondered if it had always been a causal, ephemeral thing even when it had felt so grounding. 

At least, you thought, you’d have the separate beds. You’d booked the room before sharing a bed was quite so commonplace in your friendship. At least you wouldn’t need to be quite that close to him knowing how he felt about it. That was a comfort. 

And you were looking forward to some distance from your sister. Now that she was getting closer to her due date, you were together all the time. From lamaze classes to parenting seminars to going with her to AA and NA meetings as moral support, you were with Anna more now than you had been since the two of you were girls and it was summer vacation and you had nothing else to do. 

“I swear to God that one old mom thinks we’re a couple,” she snickered as the two of you got pancakes after a lamaze class one day. 

“What?” You gaped at her. “Ew!” 

“Oh, for sure,” she said, reaching over and stealing a piece of bacon off your plate. You glared at her and she shrugged. “What? I’m eating for two.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“But she definitely thinks we’re lesbians,” she continued. “She was giving me the stink eye before you came in today. I think she thinks you’re the scary one, by the way, because she definitely stopped when you got there.” 

“Jesus,” you shuddered. “Wrong on so many levels. One, you’re my baby sister and that’s just gross. Two, you are definitely the scary one.” 

“Oh, for sure,” Anna nodded seriously and then laughed. “Besides, if you were my girlfriend I definitely wouldn’t be letting you run off with some old flame for the weekend…” 

“Joel is not an old flame,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Sure,” she said in a teasing tone. “And Stephen is fine with this?” 

“Stephen doesn’t get a say in what I do,” you replied. “We’re just seeing each other now and then, he’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Whatever you say,” she said, giving you a look that you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with. 

You hadn’t told her about the kiss with Joel. You hadn’t told her about losing your virginity to Joel before you left for college, either. But somehow, she seemed to know. Your sister, for all the distance you’d forced and all the troubles she’d had, just knew. 

And that made you more nervous than you should have been for spending the weekend away. 

But you packed a bag - featuring a costume for the concert picked from your closet by Sarah - and headed for Joel’s, Puck in his little cat carrier on your passenger seat. 

“Aunt Goldie!” Sarah rocketed out of the house, her curls flying as she ran for your car. “It’s here! We’re really going!” 

“We are!” You said with a laugh, catching her as she threw herself at you. Joel followed behind her, getting your duffle from the back seat. 

“Did you remember your outfit?” She asked, pulling back and looking up at you with wide eyes. 

“I absolutely did,” you smiled at her before looking at her dad. “Hey Joel.” 

“Goldie,” he gave you a nod. “You ready for this?” 

“For a road trip with my favorite kid?” You asked. “Absolutely.” 

You got Puck settled at Joel’s - his neighbors, the Adlers, promising to look in on both cats while you were away - and got loaded into Joel’s truck, a bag of snacks and cooler of drinks sitting next to Sarah in the back seat. 

“We’re listening from the start of the discography,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing the input for her phone. “We need to make sure we know all the eras before we get there.” 

Joel looked like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 

It was easy to fall into life with Sarah and Joel, even just for the few hours in the truck. Sarah dramatically performing into an imaginary microphone in the back seat, Joel reminding her to buckle back in every time she undid her seatbelt for a particularly big dance move. You stopped in West for pastries and chocolate milk and, by the time you pulled into the hotel on Friday evening, the three of you were a little hopped up on sugar and in desperate need of real food. 

“Oh this place is fancy,” Sarah said, a mocking and overwrought English accent on the last word as you looked around the lobby. 

“Well, needed a room with space for the three of us…” Joel said, voice trailing off as he looked for the check in counter before spotting it. “Don’t go wanderin’ off, alright? I’ll get us checked in, we can drop the bags and figure out something besides junk for dinner…” 

“But I like junk” Sarah said. 

“Yeah, I know you do,” he said before looking to you. “Keep her out of trouble, will you?” 

“Bold of you to assume she’d be the problem.” 

“Knew you’d be trouble,” he smirked a little before going to get in the check in line. 

You stuck close to Sarah, who was using the short wall of the lobby garden as a balance beam as she worked out the pent up energy from the hours spent in the car. 

“How many songs do you think she’ll sing?” Sarah asked after the spun on the end of the wall, her sneakers squeaking on the polished stone. 

“I dunno,” you said. “Probably a lot since the concert is a few hours long.” 

“I don’t want to see spoilers but my friends keep sending videos,” she said. “I haven’t watched any of them, I want to see it all in person.” 

She did a jump like she was imitating a gymnast, making you instinctively reach for her, trying to hide your hiss of fear as she landed smoothly on the narrow wall. She looked at your worried expression and laughed. 

“Please be careful,” you said as she started walking the wall again. “If you get yourself killed I’ll have to go through the hassle of selling these tickets online…” 

Sarah snorted. 

“You’d miss me,” she said, teasing. 

“That too,” you smiled a little before looking toward the check in counter. Joel was at the front now but he looked to be in deep conversation with the man behind the desk. You frowned. “Stay put, kiddo.” 

“Keep jumping on the wall, got it.” 

You shot Sarah a glare before heading for the desk. 

“No, that’s not going to work,” Joel was saying. “I booked the room I booked for a reason, I need two beds…” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the man said. “I’m afraid we’re completely full this weekend and this is the only room I can put you in…” 

“What’s happening?” You asked, eyebrows knitting together and looking between them. 

“They don’t have the room we picked,” Joel said, eyes darting quickly to you, almost like he was afraid to look at you. “They only have rooms with one bed…” 

“Wait, what?” You looked at the man behind the counter. “Seriously? We have a confirmation number, we…” 

“I know, and I apologize,” he said. “With the concerts, we’re booked solid this weekend and there must have been a mixup with an earlier check in. I can’t move someone who’s already checked in. I already looked at our sister property across town but they’re completely full, too…” 

Joel looked at you, his eyes a little wider than you were used to seeing them. Almost like he was going to panic at just the thought of sharing a bed with you. 

“We can make it work, right?” You said, watching him. “I mean… it’s not that bad, is it?” 

“Right,” Joel said. “Yeah, you’re right…” 

He turned back to the man. 

“I guess we’ll take it,” he said. “Three keys, please.” 

Your stomach knotted a little. You knew the situation was less than ideal, that the two of you had been actively avoiding that level of contact in the months since the new year, but it’s not as though you’d never shared a bed. Was kissing you really so bad that Joel was on the verge of a panic at the thought of sleeping next to you for two nights? 

Maybe it was. Maybe you hadn’t fully understood his level of disgust at it.

You weren’t stupid, after all. You knew what he thought about kissing you. And if you hadn’t already known, you knew for sure when you overheard him talking to Tommy about it. 

“It was a mistake,” he’d said when he thought you couldn’t hear. “It won’t happen again, I’m done doing stupid shit with her and then regretting it…” 

Being close to you - touching you - was stupid shit. Even under the guise of friendship it was stupid shit. That had stung. 

It shouldn’t have.

You’d known he felt that way, you had for years. It shouldn’t have made your chest tighten and your stomach turn the way it did. He’d made it clear - since the first time the two of you had ever done anything physical - that it was a mistake. You weren’t about to risk losing him by pressing it, no matter how much you wanted to scream that he was the one who kissed you, not the other way around.

But, you supposed, it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t want you that close to him, you weren’t about to force it on him. He was still happy enough to be your friend, even if he didn’t want to sleep next to you anymore. That was fine. You could live with that. And you could share a bed with him for a weekend without blurring that line again. 

Joel got the keys and you got Sarah from her makeshift balance beam before heading up to the room. He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot on the elevator ride up and you tried to keep from grinding your teeth as Sarah bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet, shooting off like a rocket the second the doors opened. 

“Room 1521!” Joel called after her as she took off down the hall. “Jesus, I swear that kid has the energy to power a small city…” 

She beat you there and Joel handed her a key and Sarah did the honors of letting you into the room. 

“Oh cool!” She squealed, running in. “I get the couch bed right?” 

“Uh…” Joel’s eyes darted to you. 

“There’s a TV by it!” She ran to it. “Oh and the fridge is in this room! This one’s mine!” 

You just shrugged at him and he sighed. 

“Sure is, baby girl,” he said. “You wanna get changed before we go get something to eat?” 

“Nope!” She said, kicking off her shoes and jumping from couch cushion to couch cushion. “But if we get back early enough, can we go swimming?” 

“Sure,” Joel said. “Give me n’Goldie a minute and we’ll head out…” 

You gave Joel a tight smile and led the way to the bedroom. 

The bed, at least, was a king sized one, bigger than yours or Joel’s at home. You could keep to your separate sides of it well enough. 

“I’ll take the side by the door,” he said. You were about to protest - that was the right side of the bed and he always slept on the left - but kept your mouth shut. You didn’t have a side of the bed with Joel. Or, you shouldn’t, anyway. “Did you need to change?” 

“Just out of these leggings,” you said. “I only need a minute.” 

“Right,” he said. “I gotta use the bathroom anyway, so…” 

He stood there, awkward, for a moment before heading to the attached bathroom. You set your bag on the long, low dresser and unzipped it, rifling around for a moment until you found your jeans. You peeled off your leggings and folded them up, setting them beside your bag when your phone started vibrating in your jacket pocket. 

You frowned. You almost never got phone calls. You pulled your phone out and saw Anna’s ID picture and you answered quickly. 

“Anna?” You said, heart racing. “Is everything OK? Are you OK? Is the baby OK?” 

“What?” She asked. “Yeah, everything’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?” 

You relaxed a little. 

“You just don’t usually call,” you said. “What’s up?” 

“Oh,” she laughed. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean freak you out. I just got an email from the OBGYN, they need to move my scan next week, can you do Wednesday afternoon?” 

“Is Thursday an option?” You asked. “I have more afternoon classes on Wednesdays…” 

“You decent?” Joel called from the other side of the bathroom door. 

“Looks like they have Thursday,” Anna said. 

“Hang on!” You called to Joel, still standing there in your pale pink satin panties, before turning your attention back to Anna. “Thursday is better, just let me know a time and I can adjust some office hours.” 

“Great!” She said. “I’ll text you the details. Have fun at the concert!” 

You were about to say your goodbyes when the bathroom door opened and, suddenly, you were standing there in your underwear in front of your best friend. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, Joel’s eyes wide and ranging over you as you stood, frozen with your phone clutched to the side of your head. 

“Sorry!” Joel said quickly, turning around as you scrambled to hang up the phone and cover yourself. 

“I said hang on!” You said, grabbing your jeans. Joel glanced back over his shoulder before whipping his head back around. 

“I thought you said come on!” He said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping into the pants as quickly as you could, trying to wrestle the denim quickly over the swell of your ass before buttoning them. “There, you’re safe.” 

“Sorry,” he said again, turning around cautiously. As though you were a grenade that might explode if he caught a glimpse of your bared skin. “I wasn’t trying… I’m sorry.” 

“I said it’s fine,” you grabbed your purse. “Let’s get something besides junk food in Sarah otherwise I’m sure we’re going to pay for it later.” 

“Right,” he nodded. “Let’s go.” 

Joel was still tense next to you at dinner and you damn near chugged a glass of wine in the hopes it would help untie the knot in your stomach. 

Thankfully, you’d brought beer in the cooler from Austin and you grabbed two of them - putting the cans in koozies to cover the labels - when taking Sarah to the pool after dinner. The two of you sat and watched her play with other girls who, you assumed, were also in town for the concert. 

Joel relaxed a little then, just the two of you tucked into a corner of the hot tub with a beer in his hand. 

“Who knew I’d feel so old at 33,” he groaned a little, leaning his head back so it rested on the edge of the hot tub. “Just drove a few hours and I’m already wonderin’ how I’m gonna keep up with her tomorrow.” 

“We do have to keep her busy most of the day,” you smiled a little, watching as she lined up at the edge of the deep end of the pool next to three other girls. They jumped in one by one, each girl doing some kind of dramatic twist or funny hand gesture as they fell toward the water, shrieking and laughing as they came up for air. “It’s going to be a challenge.” 

“Thanks for doin’ this,” he said, tone more serious as he looked at you. “It really does mean a lot. We don’t have a lot of people, always felt like I’ve let her down by not having more. I’m glad she’s got someone else who cares about her, you know?” 

You smiled a little. 

“Of course I care about her,” you said. “She means the world to me. You both do.” 

His eyes traced your face and your heart beat a little faster in spite of yourself. 

“Hey Dad!” Sarah called, pulling you away from each other. “Aunt Goldie! Watch this!” 

“We’re watchin’!” Joel called back. 

Sarah looked to her new friend - a girl who looked to be about her age with red hair in a braid down her back - and they gave each other a nod before running for the edge of the pool and jumping for the water, the girls twisting in the air to slap each other’s hands before they splashed down. You laughed and clapped as they surfaced, Sarah beaming. 

“Looks great, baby girl,” Joel said. “But no runnin’ by the pool, just like at home. It’s not safe.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes as she swam to the side of the pool and going back to her new found friends. 

Things felt almost normal as the three of you headed back to the room, towels over your shoulders and a trail of water behind you in the elevators. Sarah settled quickly once you were back in the hotel room, Joel telling her she couldn’t have any more soda or juice after she brushed her teeth but he did let her pick a movie to put on the TV as she settled into the pull out couch, looking like she was getting away with something as she watched Legally Blonde from her bed. 

Joel stayed in the bathroom far longer than you thought he’d need to as you both got changed into pajamas. You’d seen him go through his nighttime routine enough times, you knew he was trying to make sure he didn’t accidentally see you in your panties again. 

You had, at least, planned ahead for sharing a room with Joel, packing a fairly conservative set of sleep shorts with a matching shirt and changing quickly so you could spare him the sight. You climbed in bed when you were done, staying as far on your side as you could reach, a book propped open on your knees. 

Joel knocked before opening the door, anyway, and you winced as you replied. 

“You’re safe,” you said. He still opened the door cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw you tucked below the covers. You smiled tightly at him as he climbed in bed beside you, his curls still damp from the pool. You tried not to just look at him - you shouldn’t want to just look at him, he was your friend - as he got settled and scrolled his phone for a moment before he looked toward you. 

“Want to watch a shitty movie?” 

“God, yes,” you said, putting your bookmark in. 

Joel laughed a little and turned the TV on, finding the Hallmark channel with some particularly insipid movie you didn’t need to know the plot of to keep up with, even coming in half way through. 

By the time it was over, the two of you had drifted closer on the bed, both of you a little breathless from laughter. You turned out the lights and lay down, more beside each other than against each other, and you stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying not to think about the fact that the warmth soaking into you came from Joel. 

“M’sorry about the room mix up,” he said quietly into the dark. “I hope it’s not… I don’t want you to feel weird.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “It’s fine.” 

“Good,” he said. “Because the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable…” 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, either,” your voice dropped low enough that it was almost a whisper. 

“You don’t,” he said, almost as fast as you’d responded to him. 

“Good,” you said after a moment. “Goodnight, Joel.” 

“Night, Goldie.” 

***

Joel had a hard-on when he woke up. 

A goddamn boner pressed against his best friend’s ass, an ass he’d seen barely concealed by the softest looking fucking satin or silk or whatever the fuck women’s panties were made of, a sight he couldn’t seem to shake. Not that it was that different from seeing you in a swim suit but there was something about the intimacy of seeing you in a state of undress when he knew - or was pretty damn sure, anyway - that he was the only man who’d seen you that way in months. He liked that sight being reserved just for him. 

He needed to get the fuck over that. 

He was trying to. Really, truly, sincerely he was trying. He’d managed to get some distance from you - though that had helped less than he really expected. But he couldn’t bring himself to just cut you off. 

Even though that would probably be the smart thing to do. 

Clearly you didn’t feel for him the way he felt for you. He’d kissed you - twice - and you acted like it was nothing. Hell, you’d jumped on Tinder as soon as you got home from the cabin and found fucking Stephen. His stomach had twisted in on itself when he saw that text. Consciously, he knew you didn’t feel the same way he did but fuck, he’d hoped it would take you longer than a few days to do something like resort to Tinder after he kissed you. 

And now here he was, his dick against your ass as you slept tucked against him. He wondered what had done it. Had he dreamed about you and those pink little panties only to forget it when he woke? Had he just felt your body against him as you slept, all curved back into him and making your home against his torso with your legs all tucked up toward your stomach so the lush of your ass was nestled right against his cock? Had he just smelled your hair from where you’d moved in the night, the scent of you all close and beautiful driving him to a step beyond wanting? 

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. All that mattered now was making sure you didn’t know it happened. 

He adjusted himself delicately, his cock aching and leaky in the cotton of his pajama pants, rolling slowly onto his back and leaving the arm you were currently using as a pillow below your head. Joel tried to gently extract his arm, hoping he could make it to the bathroom and - after locking the doors - jerking off fast and hard to the memory of you in those little panties

No such luck. You stirred then, uncoiling yourself and stretching out with a satisfied little moan that seemed to have a direct line to his hard cock, making it twitch in the confines of his pants. 

“Morning,” you said, voice groggy as you adjusted, lifting off his arm and arching your back before relaxing down into the mattress. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cramp your space…” 

“S’fine,” Joel said quickly. The two of you lay in awkward quiet for a moment. “Should probably get movin’…” 

“Yup,” you said, getting up quickly. “Big day ahead of us.” 

The three of you got ready to go - Sarah already eager to get into her concert outfit and you had to talk her down - before heading to breakfast. Joel just watched you and Sarah talk about her favorite song lyrics over bacon and eggs and wondered how the hell he was supposed to move on from you when you were like this with his daughter. 

You went to the aquarium that day, you and Joel just hanging back as Sarah pressed her face against the glass at every exhibit, finding the fish she liked best and trying to learn everything she could about them. 

Joel found himself watching you almost as much as he watched his daughter, the streaks of refracted light from the water catching on your eyes and skin and hair.

“What?” You asked when you caught him, a puzzled smile on your face. 

“Nothin’,” he shrugged, looking toward the tank. 

“OK,” you laughed a little. “Weirdo.” 

“That’s me,” he smiled, shaking his head a bit. 

“Well, as long as you’re aware.” 

The three of you went back to the room with plenty of time to get ready and Sarah practically shoved Joel into the living room the second they were there. 

“You’re a boy,” she said before she closed the door. “We have a lot more to do than you.” 

There were a few seconds of quiet before the Taylor Swift started playing and Joel laughed a little, distracting himself with a phone game while you and his daughter gave each other makeovers in the bedroom. 

“Dad!” Sarah poked her head out a while later. 

He set the phone down. 

“Yes baby girl?” 

“Are you ready?” She said. “Because we have to do a fashion show.” 

“Fashion show it up, kiddo,” he said. “M’ready.” 

“OK, put New Romantics on,” she said. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “We need a soundtrack, Dad, just do it!” 

“Alright, alright,” he said, going into Spotify and finding the song. “Ready when you are.” 

“Presenting the eras of Sarah and Goldie,” she said with dramatic flair before throwing the bedroom door open and jumping into the living room in a pink shirt covered in sequins and her white skort. Her hair was in two what she liked to call “space buns” on the top of her head, pink plastic hair ties holding them in place. Her springy curls were covered in glitter and she had on bright pink, sparkling eyeshadow and gem stones on her cheeks as she beamed, her arms over her head as she showed off her outfit. “I’m in my Lover era because it’s the best one, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Joel tried to keep himself from laughing. “That’s a lot of glitter, kiddo.” 

“It’s a concert, Dad,” she rolled her eyes as you poked your head around the door to look into the living room and he caught a glimpse of your much darker makeup. 

“It’s just a spray,” you said. “It’s supposed to wash out pretty easy.” 

“No, don’t show yourself yet!” Sarah shoved you lightly back behind the door. “You have to do it all at once to get the full effect!” 

“Sorry!” You called and Joel heard the hint of a laugh on the edges of your voice. “You tell me when it’s OK to come out.” 

“Thank you,” Sarah said, turning back to Joel and striking a pose. “Lover is the best because it has the most pink AND it has Cruel Summer on it.” 

“Sure,” Joel nodded seriously even though he had no idea what she was talking about. “You look great, baby girl. Very pink.” 

She beamed. 

“And now, Aunt Goldie -” she stepped to the side of the doorway and threw her arms out with a flourish - “who is in her Reputation era!” 

Joel didn’t know what the fuck that meant, either. All he knew was that he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut as you stepped around the door, a sheepish look on your face as you turned in a slow circle to show off your entire outfit. You were in black jeans that hugged every curve of your legs, heeled black boots, a satiny shirt that was low cut enough that he could see a hint of the black lace bra below and a black leather jacket. Your eyes were dark and your lashes were long, your lips blazing red and all he could think about was how much he wanted to ruin that fucking lipstick. He was so busy staring at you like an idiot, he missed what Sarah was saying. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo, what was that?” He asked, not looking at Sarah. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you. 

“She’s in her reputation era because it’s the most badass - sorry Dad - one,” she said. “And she’s definitely badass. Sorry.” 

“I tried to tell her that no, I’m definitely not,” you said. “But she wouldn’t listen.” 

“Nah, she’s right,” Joel said, hoping he didn’t look like too much of a fucking idiot as he stared at you. “You…” he tried to find some way to describe you that didn’t make him sound like a dumbass. “You look great.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Thanks,” you said. “And what are you wearing?” 

“Oh, right,” he said, getting up from the couch. “Sarah picked somethin’ for me too…” 

He ducked around you into the bedroom and resisted the urge to run his hand over your stomach to the curve of your waist and pull you against him. He changed his shoes into his cowboy boots and got his cowboy hat out from its place in his bag before emerging. 

“What era is this, baby girl?” He asked, his hands awkwardly shoved in the pockets of his jeans. 

“That’s the evermore era,” Sarah said knowingly. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “Cowboy Like Me. Duh.”

Joel saw you press your lips together as you tried not to laugh. 

“Duh, yes,” Joel said. 

“Oh! And…” She scampered to her bag and opened the side pocket of her duffle, pulling out fistfuls of plastic beads. “Friendship bracelets!” 

She put a few on herself before holding clusters of them out to each of you. 

“You’re supposed to trade them with other people at the show! I made a bunch!” 

“Thank you!” You said sliding the cluster of them up your arm and turning them in the light. “I didn’t know concerts required so much prep work…” 

“We ready to go?” Joel asked. “I know parking’s gonna be a nightmare…” 

“Yeah!” Sarah damn near bounded toward the door. “Let’s go!” 

The concert was packed, awash with bright colors and excited squeals as the three of you settled in, Sarah immediately striking up a conversation with a girl about her age in a purple dress, trading bracelets with her. 

“Oh, right,” you said, leaning around Joel to see what Sarah was doing. You started looking over the mass of beads on your wrist and selecting one, passing it over to him. “This one seems good.” 

Joel took it, most of the beads letters that said Call It What You Want. He made a mental note to listen to the song at some point. He smiled a little, putting it on the wrist that didn’t have any bracelets yet so he wouldn’t accidentally give it away. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking at his own wrist until he found the one that made the most sense to him and handed it over before he could think better of it. “Here, in trade.” 

You smiled and took it before laughing a little. 

“You Belong With Me, huh?” You asked. He shrugged and you traced your thumb over the letters before sliding it on your wrist. “Thank you.” 

“Dad!” Sarah grabbed his arm and held up hers. “Look! She gave me her Lover one!”

“That’s great, baby girl,” he smiled at the glittery pastel beads, Sarah’s eyes wide and bright. 

It was impossible to not love how happy Sarah was here. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile quite so huge or seen her eyes quite so bright. It was like she was getting everything she had ever dreamed as she chattered away to every girl around them as they waited for the show to start. He drank it in, trying to make sure he remembered clearly, sharply how it felt to see her so happy. After a while, he looked to you to find you watching Sarah, too, a look on your face that was almost as happy as hers and you looked so beautiful he almost wasn’t tempted to look at the plush swell of your lace clad cleavage below your satin shirt. 

Almost. 

“What?” You laughed a little, gaze meeting his just as the lights dimmed. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For wanting to make her happy.” 

You just smiled gently before taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, Joel’s heart skipping a beat as everyone’s attention turned to the stage and cheered, the music starting. 

He didn’t pay much attention to the music during the concert, more interested in watching Sarah have fun and you indulging her, happily dancing along with her and clapping excitedly when she did. 

But there was one song in a slower section that he couldn’t help but notice. You’d been swaying along to the music and Joel had been appreciating the guitar when your head drifted over and rested on his shoulder. He froze for a moment, looking at you with the small smile on your red lips and your eyes all soft as you watched the stage and fuck he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you and he wanted it to be unlike every other time he kissed you, each of them full of driving want or couched in some pretense. Instead, he wanted to kiss you all soft and slow, gentle and earnest. He wanted to take his time and memorize the taste of you and the way your body felt when cradled against him just so. 

But he couldn’t do that so he tried to focus on the song but the lyrics cut him to the quick. 

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

The words were striking in their familiarity, like they’d been written just for him. It was a moment he’d had a long time ago, almost 20 years back now, a lightning bolt that made him stare straight up at his ceiling in the middle of the night, right at the spot over his bed that had some Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition model poster tacked into the popcorn plaster. The model didn’t hold a candle to you and your slow building smiles and the way you grabbed his bicep for support when you laughed. 

Because he loved you. 

He’d never loved anything outside of his family before but he loved you. The realization swallowed him up, swift and devastating, because he knew - even at 16 he knew - that it would never work. You were too smart, you burned too bright, you wouldn’t have your feet glued to this place the way his were. You’d move on after high school and go change the world and he’d be able to read your name in the paper and say that he knew you once. 

Except he’d always assumed that, eventually, he’d move on. That he’d love something else, find some slice of that all encompassing feeling in another woman. He was just 16 then, after all. Who the fuck married someone they met in high school these days? He’d move on. 

But he didn’t. He’d just poured all the love he had into his daughter until he was struck by you again and realized that no, it hadn’t faded. He still loved you in a way he’d never loved anything else and in a way he didn’t think he’d ever love anything else again and he still knew - even at 33 he knew - that it wasn’t going to work. And he couldn’t risk pressing it, not when life was this much better just because you were close. 

But what was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to spend the rest of his life trying to pretend that he’d find someone else to feel this way about? Was he supposed to steep himself in this torturous proximity until he lost himself to it? Was he supposed to try to bear finding distance from you - when he couldn’t even last a few days not speaking to you - so he could manage it? 

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he would ever really know. 

“Joel?” You stepped back from him, your eyebrows knitted together. “You OK?” 

You lifted a hand and pressed the back of it to his cheek. 

“M’fine,” he frowned. “Why?” 

“You look pale,” you said, moving your hand to the other side of his face. “But you don’t feel warm…” 

“Just gettin’ too old for the concert life,” he smiled a little. “Don’t worry about it.” 

You took your hand back. He wasn’t sure if it was a kindness or a cruelty. 

“Better get used to it if you’re going to start playing again,” you said, facing back toward the stage. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart clenching a little. “I’d better.” 

You and Sarah got him to dance and he memorized the look on Sarah’s face as the show wound down, all happiness and joy at getting exactly what she wanted.

After a seemingly endless wait for an Eras Tour t-shirt and the traffic jam to leave the parking lot, the three of you made it back to the hotel, Sarah asleep in the back seat. You went to wake her but Joel stopped you. 

“I’ve got ‘er,” he said quietly, lifting her delicately from the back seat. She groggily put her arms around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder and he smiled a little. She might be getting big but at least he could still carry his baby girl to bed. 

The two of you tucked her in together before tiptoeing to the bedroom. 

“Thank God I talked Sarah out of glitter for me,” you said quietly as you took your makeup off, already in your pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror. Joel tried to resist the urge to trace the curve of your legs and ass with his eyes. “I’ve barely got the energy to take this off…” 

“Her hair’s gonna be a nightmare tomorrow,” he said, smiling in spite of himself. 

“Yeah, but she loved it,” you looked at him in the mirror. “Worth it.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Worth it.” 

When you got in bed, the two of you ditched the pretense of distance that you’d started with the night before. You lay close but not touching, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you under the blankets. 

“So,” you said, yawning. “How was your first concert with Sarah?” 

“Anything that makes that kid that happy is great in my book,” he smiled a little, his eyes tracing the dark outline of you silhouetted in the dim city light that filtered around the curtains. “Seriously… thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.” 

“Thanks for letting me be a part of it,” Joel could hear your groggy smile on your voice. “And I had a few Christmases to make up for missing.” 

He laughed lightly. 

“I missed you, Joel,” you said, sounding so tired he wasn’t sure that you knew you said it. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Missed you too, Goldie. So much.” 

You hummed in response before your breaths shifted to the quiet, easy cadence of sleep and Joel drifted off, letting himself savor the closeness of you. 

That indulgence, he thought at first, was what sparked the dream. 

You were in a hotel room with him in his head, too, but it was different. It was just the two of you and it wasn’t because you had to be. No, you were there for each other. 

Joel took his time with you then. He undressed you slowly, his lips trailing over your neck and shoulder as he slid the straps of your bra down your arms. He kissed you the way he wanted to at the concert, holding you to him as his tongue dipped into your mouth and he could smell your shampoo and feel the silk of your skin below his fingers and his cock was painfully swollen. His kiss grew more desperate, desire shifting to necessity. He was drawn hot and tight inside his skin and wanting you was a distant memory now because he was far beyond that. He needed you. 

He rutted against the soft warmth beside him, seeking some kind of relief, your body relaxed and pliant against him, your breath hot on his skin and it was the little whimper you made that woke him up. 

It was still early, the light coming in from around the edges of the curtains not bright enough for it to be the light of day yet but that didn’t seem to matter, he could see things just fine. You were close and tight against him, his aching cock pressed to your stomach, the root of him against your clit, your pussy so hot he could feel it through your pajamas and his own. Your leg was hitched over his hip and you rocked your hips against his length and your head was tucked below his. He could smell your shampoo and feel the heat of your breath on his neck. He froze against you and you gave a soft, strangled moan. 

“Goldie,” he whispered, only then realizing that he was panting for breath. “Think… I think you’re dreamin’, should wake up…” 

You didn’t respond. You just moaned, high pitched and needy, and worked your core against his length and Joel worried that he was going to come then and there. 

“Goldie,” he said again. HIs voice sounded strangled, like he was choking on the words. “Gotta wake up baby, can’t…” 

Your leg tightened on him and your hand found its way to the back of his neck, playing in his curls as you ground yourself against his cock and he thought he might burst if he didn’t find some kind of relief soon and… was it really wrong if you started it? If you were practically fucking him in your sleep, was it so bad to give in to what you wanted? 

His resolve weakened, falling into nothing in a matter of seconds. His hands spread over you, one between your shoulder blades, the other cupping the lush globe of your ass and he pressed closer to you, grinding against your hot slit that you kept pressing against him like you wanted him the way he wanted you. 

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass and over your thigh, the feeling of your skin below his fingers almost too much when taken with everything else you were offering and fuck he wanted to feel you come. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you and feel you get lost in your pleasure while wrapped around him. He resisted the urge to at least slip a finger into those wet panties - he knew they’d be wet, knew you’d be fucking dripping - because that, for some reason, was a bridge too far. You hadn’t started that. You had started this. 

“Goldie,” he managed again, forgetting all pretense and just fucking his cock against you now. “Need you to wake up…” 

You buried your face in his neck and moaned, the motion of your hips picking up for a moment before you pulled your face back from him, eyes open wide and glassy with want and shock. He froze, his hands still on you and his cock still pressed against your core. 

“Joel,” you breathed, eyes searching his. “What are we…” 

“Want me to stop touchin’ you?” He asked, praying you wouldn’t say yes. 

“No,” you whispered. “I… I want…I need… but we… we can’t…” 

His heart cracked open at that but he shoved it aside. He could deal with the pain of that later. 

“Don’t gotta be anymore than this,” he said quietly. “It’s OK baby, promise. It doesn’t need to mean anything, it’s OK…” 

You just nodded quickly and buried your face in his neck again, clutching him close so every line of you was tight to his body, your hips working in earnest against his cock. He moaned at the feel of it, needing to press his mouth into the crown of your head to muffle the sound. He rutted himself against you, his leaking cock making such a mess of his goddamn underwear that it almost felt like he was inside you, the slick of his precome and the heat of your pussy intoxicating. 

The two of you rocked against each other like teenagers in heat, terrified of what that next step would mean but too desperate to stop yourselves now. Joel was getting dangerously close to spilling into his pants and was trying to stave off his orgasm, needing to come with you, when you spoke - voice small and hot and needy - from your place tucked against his skin. 

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you panted so quietly, like your pleasure was a secret. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come, I…” 

“It’s OK,” he said, holding you a little closer, a little tighter, working his cock against you a little harder. “Just come, it’s OK, I’ve got you, it’s OK, just come for me baby, just come.” 

You rutted yourself against him once, twice more before your body seized up and he could feel the throbbing of your pussy against his cock even through the layers of clothing. He closed his eyes and thrust up, letting himself imagine that he was deep inside you and coming there, his orgasm hitting him so hard it made his head spin. 

Your body went limp in his hold after as the two of you panted for breath, limbs tangled around each other. He just held you, tight enough to feel close but loose enough that you could pull away when you needed, until you leaned back from him. Your eyes were still wide but more in shock, now, than want. 

“Joel,” you whispered. “What did we do?” 

He could hear the panic edging into your voice. 

“What did we just do?” Your breaths were coming in fearful little pants now and he ignored the pain in his chest as he brushed your hair back soothingly. 

“S’OK,” he said softly. “It… it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s OK. Just… shit happened, it wasn’t anything crazy, it’s OK. It don’t have to be anything it’s not, it’s OK.” 

There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite place but then you nodded. 

“You OK?” Joel asked after a moment. 

You held his gaze for a second before you nodded once. 

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s OK.” 

His alarm went off and he scrambled to turn it off, praying that, this time, it really would be OK. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm going to keep building that tension because I love to torture them apparently.

Don't ask me what my problem is. If I knew, I'd tell you.

Thank you so much for reading about these two idiots! I love them so much. Even if they're idiots.

[clairellie]

hii !! first off. love your blog ?? need to read your abby fic !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻 and i saw you took requests. so um. hear me out, mixing the streamer!ellie with some abby x reader content.

streamer!ellie who decides to invite her two best friends to play games and stream. abby and reader being close to each other, abby encouraging reader, cheering for her while being a dick to ellie. "you got it, you got it!" she'd say to reader as she plays. "you fuckin' moron! you lost!" she'd say to ellie. anyway !! chat starts to notice how sweet abby and reader are to each other and ellie reads them what people say. omg. and maybe after the stream, abby decides to take reader on a date?? sorry if this is messy. just thought it'd be cute !! mwaaah 🫶🏻🫶🏻💌

OUR CUPIDS . . .

a/n: i loveedddd this idea!! sorry if this seems bad, this was done in like 15 minutes.

includes: streamer!ellie with sweet!abby but also mean!abby..? y/n used once!!! abby being bad down.

"okay, so today, i invited 2 of my friends to play a few games with us. abby, and y/n. uhm, we decided to play a few games of fortnite, so no call of duty today. you all know y/n right, and abby, right?"

ellie was staring off into space as you and abby introduced yourself, looking at a few posters up on her wall, surrounded by a shelf full of figures.

ellie was seated in the middle, abby on the left of ellie, and you on the right of ellie. ellie didn't want you two to sit next to eachother. she despised those moments when abby was only focused on you. always helping you figure out where everyone is, reminding you to pick up some loot, and so on. she never did any of those things to ellie, because she was already "good."

as ellie was talking to chat a bit, needing help with choosing her skin before you and abby joined in. once abby finished helping you, although she was honestly just talking to you.. she sat back down in her seat and loaded in the game as you did.

ellie had a peely skin, and you had the poison ivy skin on as abby had midas on. abby said you two "had the same vibe." she liked how your two skins complimented each other, and looked like you were sort of matching, just a tiny bit.

"oh! get that loot right there." "you got it!" "reload real quick.. yeah, now shoot him in the head." abby was always cheering you on as you played. ellie side eyeing chat, knowing that theres some kind of vibe between you and abby.

it took a while for the match to end, none of you getting a #1 royale. somehow, ellie died first. you and abby kept looking at each other almost every time ellie did one of her high-pitched screams or loud ass gasps. then you died. then abby died.

"HAH, you fuckin lost." abby said in a joking manner. ellie was pisseddd off. she couldnt believe the fact that she died first. it was usually you who died first, but ellie?! "you can shut the fuck up abby" "well i wont."

you had forgotten about chat. completely forgetting that people were watching you play a game. ellie looked over at chat, a few things caught her eye.

"THE WAY ABBY LOOKS AT HER?!" "they should js get married alreadyyy." "plz dont start the ships again."

ellie grinned, ammused by the way chat is obsessed with you and abbys relationship. "chat loves yall together, start dating already."

abby looked at her with a confused face, "excuse me....?" "look at chat. the way you look at her, the way you speak to her compared to me? come on now!"

you looked over at abby, thinking about what it would be like to date her. you now realize you already had some feelings for her.. but those got stronger. you would love the feeling of abby's lips on top of yours, the feeling of her hands holding your waist...

time went by quickly now that you werent really focused any more. a few minutes later, ellie shuts off the stream. "yall wanna get some food realllyyy quick?" ellie asked, now standing up. "yeah just give us a sec." abby said, getting her shoes put on and her leather jacket.

abby looked at you, "you wanna go on a date with me?" you stared at her, confused and in shock now. how could this all happen so fast? first you were just hanging out with eachother, then you find out you reallyyy like her, and now she feels the same way?!!

"i-i mean sure! i would love that."

"what time works best for ya?"