#furniture flyer

[heavy-machinery-studio-feed]

[ryanguzmanscowlick]

The thing is, Tommy’s worried about Evan coming over to his house for the first time. He’s seen Evan’s loft. It’s all clean lines, modern appliances and details. What little sentimental odds and ends he owns are tucked away or so subtle than Tommy didn’t spot them the first couple of times he came over.

Tommy’s house, by contrast, is filled with the detritus one accumulates when they’ve gone no contact with everyone related to them and they’re trying to create a homey, family atmosphere out of thrift stores and the Pottery Barn catalogue instead of friends and family.

He’s a knick-knacker, an antique furniture collector, a throw pillow and afghan fanatic.

He doesn’t have much in the way of books, but he has shelves and shelves of notebooks, some full, some half-used, some untouched. It’s a habit he picked up when his first ever therapist (after he left the 118) coaxed him into writing everything down to make a little sense of the mess of contradictions, phobias, old prejudices, prejudices still clinging on and traumas that made it feel impossible to figure out what to talk about first when he sat down in that office.

There’s a small, awkward section of wall in his kitchen created when a previous owner of the house decided to add a laundry room (embarrassingly, his favorite room in the house for it’s sheer utility) and that’s where Tommy hangs his collection of coffee mugs. Some of them are Goodwill finds, some souvenirs, some band merch or creations by local artists he picked up at some market or other.

There’s five different varieties of protein powder constantly cluttering his kitchen counter because he ran out of room in the small pantry. His pots and pans hang over the tiny, rolling kitchen island, which is itself nearly taken over by a serving tray that holds his water filter, a candle, a decorative planter filled with his cooking utensils, a plastic case of toothpicks.

He still has a dvd collection, for heaven’s sake, and it takes up most of his sagging entertainment center. He should replace it, but it’s the first piece of furniture he ever restored and he’s having trouble letting go. Speaking of letting go, there’s a dog bed in the corner for a dog that passed away nearly ten months ago. He probably will at least hide that in a closet before Evan gets here.

Because he is coming over. No matter how nervous Tommy is, he’s not gonna come up with another excuse for why they have to postpone or meet at Evan’s instead. He gets the feeling he’s already made Evan a little wary, and with Evan’s relationship history and his fear of being too much, not enough, just left, Tommy will eat his own foot before he purposely exacerbates Evan’s fears.

If Evan looks around and decides Tommy is a hoarder or a slob or a million other nasty epithets Tommy’s brain is offering up like some cruel, self-sabotaging buffet- Well, they’ll talk about it. They’ll learn and adjust. Evan has never, ever been cruel to Tommy and it’s quite frankly laughable that he would start now.

That’s what Tommy tells the rogue half of his brain trying to rain on their parade. Another thing he picked up from his therapist - name the part of you that spews negative self-talk and talk back to it. Predictably, Tommy named his Vince. Shut the fuck up, Vince.

Evan’s shift ended twenty minutes ago and Tommy has chili on the stove keeping warm. Between showering and the drive over, Evan should be due at his door in another twenty-five or so. Tommy hides the dog bed, lights the kitchen candle, tries to find things to do with his hands so he doesn't watch the time like a hawk. They’ve had conflicting shifts for almost two weeks with only stolen moments and half-asleep kisses in between. Tommy misses his boyfriend. But a watched clock never ticks, or whatever.

His strategy works, because Evan’s knock on the front door actually startles him a little from the stack of unopened mail he’s sorting through. So many flyers for what feels like every home decor and craft store in the state.

Evan’s eyes are gentle and joyful when Tommy answers the door. “Hey.” He leans in to squeeze Tommy’s bicep and press a kiss to the wing of his cheek. Tommy can feel Evan’s mouth stretch into a smile against his skin.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy wiggles his fingers under the strap of Evan’s duffel to take it from him and steps aside to let him into the house. His heart thuds in his chest.

Evan surrenders his bag and steps into Tommy’s home for the first time. If he notices Tommy holding his breath, he doesn’t comment yet.

He takes a look around while Tommy tries to look anywhere but his face. He doesn’t want to let on that he’s being a complete lunatic about this, that he let his anxiety take over for the better part of the day.

When Evan turns around to face Tommy again and slides his hands over Tommy’s waist, presses his fingers into Tommy’s back, nudging them closer together, his smile has split into a full grin. Tommy can’t help reflexively smiling in return. He can feel his cheeks flooding with warmth. It should be embarrassing that Evan still makes Tommy blush at the drop of a hat even all these months later, but if it helps Evan know deep in his bones that Tommy is gone for him, Tommy wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“It looks like you.” Evan draws his hands up and down Tommy’s torso in gentle strokes. “Cozy. Warm. Like…” He trails off and bites his lip, drops his eyes to Tommy’s chest.

Tommy hooks his fingers under Buck’s chin and lifts his gaze back up until their eyes meet in a move that’s become so routine it’s pretty much an inside joke between them. “Like what? Don’t leave me hanging.”

It’s Evan turn to flush a deep pink. He takes an unsteady breath in. “L-like home.”

An immense weight lifts off Tommy’s chest so quickly it almost steals his breath, but Evan has tensed up just a fraction, so Tommy hums softly, spreads his big hands over Buck’s wide shoulders and digs his fingers in to massage the tension back out. He slides deeper into Evan’s space to take his mouth in a chaste, lingering kiss, and he murmurs against his lips. “Glad to hear it.”

[ronwestbreeze]

live in gotham they say... | the cat lady on 13 queen street

summary: what idiot willingly moves to gotham city of all places? you, apparently. word count: 2.4k warning: none! just chaos hehe author's note: so, with this story, i technically posted this last year but wasn't happy with it so I ended up deleting it. but now I'm bringing it back and hopefully I can flesh out more ideas this time! let me know what you think, leave comments, and enjoy!

AO3 | next

Upon arriving at 13 Queen Street, you first noticed how quiet it was. There were a few distant shouts and curses coming from different apartments here and there, some of the streetlights kept flickering on and off, and sure a few gutter rats were running about—but it wasn’t an awful-looking place. Shady? Maybe. Compared to Chicago, this was nothing.

The apartment was nice though! It's a lot nicer than the ones you saw before arriving here.

“Hi! I’m here for the cat-sitting job you advertised. I saw a flyer and I thought, ‘Hey, I like cats, so why not?’ you know? Cats are cute, right? I find them incredibly adorable, a lot more than dogs actually! So cute I want to take them for myself—not that I want to take your cats or anything! Just that they’re cute and I really, really….”

You were nervous. That much was clear when you had rehearsed this at least a dozen times in your car, and yet someone you still messed up on the delivery. Yeah, that checks out.

I want to take them for myself? What kind of idiot would say that to someone looking for a cat sitter? You, apparently.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “…Anyway, you’re looking for a cat sitter?”

The owner of the flyer was a woman who looked to be in her mid to late thirties. Raven short hair, smooth—practically perfect copper skin, and cunning feline-shaped eyes. She was leaning against her doorway with a mixture of amusement and a glint of something else you were too nervous to decipher—too afraid to be staring too long and ending up looking like a creep.

“My flyer’s only been out for a day. I’m surprised someone responded so fast.” The woman hummed, raising a slick and neat brow.

You shrugged while fiddling with your hands, “Yeah, well, I’m willing to take any job right now—I’m new to the city, which means I’m pretty much broke and could use the cash—you know how it is, right? Wait—that’s rude, sorry—of course you probably don’t know how it is. I don’t why I would even assume such a thing—I just met you and I’m already making assumptions—“ 

The woman furrowed her brows and you then realized you had gone and rambled again. 

You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet, “As you can tell, I’m pretty much desperate—do I look desperate to you?”

A pause and a blank stare later, the woman waved a dismissive hand. “Not at all.” She then glanced over her shoulder to something inside her apartment that you couldn’t see before speaking, “Why don’t you come in and meet my babies, hmm?”

“Yes, yes!” You nodded quickly, stumbling into the apartment behind the lady.

Now common sense and basic survival skills should’ve told you not to enter a stranger’s home, especially one that was situated in one of the shadier parts of the city. Hell, this could be some type of trap to lure desperate college-aged women into some secret underground sex trafficking type shit. And you would’ve willingly waltzed right into it.

Then again, you were living in your cat which had been nearly towed at least five times now. It was pretty safe to say you were willing to take your chances.

The inside was surprisingly nice, although it could’ve been because of the aesthetic of the furniture. There was a large window to your right with a view of the grungy streets and next to that window was a dining table with mismatched chairs. To your left was a nice sized kitchen and further ahead was a small living room.

And of course, the cat furniture and the cats roaming about. There were about four you counted. And their piercing gaze pinned you in place.

The woman strolled toward her kitchen as she spoke, “The one with gray fur is Duchess, she’s the nicest one of the bunch. The darker gray is Isis, Otto is the Siamese, and the black one with indigo eyes…” She smirked at said cat who was sitting on the counter next to her as she grabbed a large bowl. “Well, she’s mostly a stray. Doesn’t give her trust to just anyone and hates the other cats. I call her Hecate.”

Hecate was the one staring at you without blinking while the other cats lingered around your feet, sniffing at your worn sneakers.

Awkwardly, you waved to Hecate, “Um, well, they’re all very pretty—oh sorry, I’m being rude, I’m—“

“y/n.” The cat lady smirked at your dumbfounded expression. “You mentioned it earlier when you said you needed money.”

“Oh.”

The cat lady then grabbed a carton of milk from her fridge and began pouring it into the bowl. “Oh? Was that something I shouldn’t know?”

“No, no, no, I just forgot!” You crossed your arms tightly around you. Hecate was still staring at you to the point where you didn’t want to move an inch, afraid you would somehow take the wrong step. “To be honest, I didn’t even realize I said my name—I don’t remember much of what I say whenever I start rambling and I kind of need people to stop me before I go overboard with it, you know—“

“Selina Kyle.” The cat lady cut in, turning to face you with a curious gaze. “A pleasure to meet you…aren’t you a little young to be wandering around a city like this? Much less wandering into people’s homes, telling them everything about yourself? That’s a bit dangerous, kid.”

You smile sheepishly, a little self-conscious under both hers and Hecate’s gaze. “Well, it’s like I said before. I’m kind of desperate. Plus, I doubt you would put a flyer out for a cat sitter to then murder me, right? Seems like very little trouble for nothing, do you think?”

“You’d be surprised.” Selina hummed mysteriously as she set down a large bowl of milk on the floor. All the cats, save for Hecatye, gathered around the bowl. “Quite naive of you to think otherwise.”

At that, you frowned. She was right. It was kind of naive. Even for you. This was the first time you had been on your own and already you felt like you were screwing something up. Hell, you’ve barely started living.

Hecate was still staring.

“I guess so…” You pressed your lips together. “Um, anyway, I know all CPR and how to use and find first aid kits in case something bad happens to the cats—God forbid—I’m really adaptable, I’m a team player, I can be a leader when it comes down to it, and I—“

“You’re watching cats, kid.” You’re not submitting a job application to Big Belly Burger.” Selina pointed out. Her stare was similar to Hecate’s. Unblinking and keen. Almost as if they were both trying to see through your soul.

“…Uh, right.” You scratched the back of your neck and wiped your sweaty hands against the fabric of your jeans. You needed to get it together, how embarrassing would it be to have a mental breakdown in front of a stranger? “Um, can I use your bathroom?” Selina tilted her head, brows raised curiously. Almost as if she were about to ask you something.

Instead, Selina gestured toward the hallway that sat between the kitchen and the living room, “Second door to the left.”

You mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before rushing down the short hallway. Once you got to the bathroom, you immediately turned the cold water on and splashed it against your face. A small curse left your lips, “There’s no way you’re gonna get this job now, not if you keep acting stupid, stupid!”

The next few seconds were spent with you trying to calm down. You checked your hair, pinched your cheeks, and practiced positive affirmations to yourself until you were stable enough and ready to go back out there.

There was no going back at this point. Not after everything it took to get you to this moment. You would not go back. That was out of the question.

With that promise in mind, you came out of the bathroom with a lot more confidence in your steps. Only to find the only ones waiting for you were her cats.

“That’s…weird…” You mumbled, looking around for Selina. You hadn’t heard the front door open or close while you were in the bathroom so she couldn’t have left the apartment, right? One of the cats, Isis, brushed past your leg and you offered a small smile toward the feline. “Hey, do you know where your owner went?” Isis just purred, looking up at you with a blank stare. “Is this a test? Should I start cat-sitting now—“

The rest of your words remained stuck in your throat when your legs were suddenly kicked out from under you. Your back hit the wooden floor first and a pained cry left your life from the sudden impact.

“Fuck!”

A foot then pressed against your chest, keeping you pinned down to the floor. You, after gathering your senses, realized that it was the cat lady who was standing over you with a vicious glint in her eyes.

She smirked in amusement, “Did you think I was going to fall for the whole innocent tourist act? You guys need to start stepping up your game.”

“What—“

“Enough games, sweetheart.” Your chin was grabbed by the woman, her sharp nails digging into your skin. You were forced to look Selina in the eyes. “I’m not fond of hurting kids, so I suggest you hurry up and tell me who sent you before things get pretty ugly.”

You couldn’t believe this. Minutes before, you were just here to apply for a cat-sitting job just to have enough money to eat for the night and you were being pinned down and interrogated like you were some undercover agent.

“Silence isn’t smart right now.”

You felt Selina’s nails dig deeper into your skin, causing the words to quickly tumble out of your mouth, “A-Are you some sort of cop? I-I don’t know what y-you want with me—“

“Cut the act, kid. It’s not workin’ anymore.” Selina scowled now, her foot pressing harder against your chest, making you blanch. “Now tell me, who sent you?! Was it Penguin? Black Mask?” She narrowed her eyes. “A Falcone?”

“A mailman?” You blurted out, wincing at the nails digging into your skin. “I-I asked him for some directions before coming here cuz I got lost—“

“You’re gonna continue playing dumb?” Selina frowned. “Not smart, kid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You cried out squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to cry. But you also didn’t want to get killed because of some paranoid cat lady. Penguin? Black Mask? Falcone? Did this woman expect you to know these names? Were you supposed to?

No, if you did that then that would make your situation a lot worse. But it seemed no matter what you said, the cat lady wasn’t going to believe you either way.

Finally, Selina removed her foot from your chest. You took that chance to scramble away until your sore back hit the back of the couch. “L-Look, I don’t know what’s going on or what I did to upset you, but I can leave! I-I don’t have to pet sit your cats! I can find another job—no big deal!”

“You’re not gonna make this any easier, are you?” Selina tsked, narrowing her eyes. “Whoever your boss is, he should hire better actors.”

You scrambled to your feet, hands raised in surrender. “No one sent me! I don’t work for anyone, okay? I’m telling the truth—“

Before you realized what was happening, Selina had sent a kick to your stomach, knocking you over the couch and onto the wooden coffee table. It broke underneath you the moment you landed and you didn’t dare move an inch after that, arm now trembling in pain from landing on it wrong.

This was happening. You were getting your ass kicked by a cat lady. How did you end up here? How did you get to the bottom so fast in such a little amount of time?

Selina now stood over you—you didn’t even try another attempt at getting away from the woman. You just lay there and closed your eyes.

“Giving up so soon?”

You let out a pained sigh. “Actually, I’m just gonna lie here now…yeah…you can go ahead and kill me…serves me right for not looking at the flyer properly.” You winced when you tried moving just a little bit. “Apparently, I missed the ‘crazy cat lady who knows martial arts. Beware!’.”

Perhaps it was never meant to be. Perhaps you had been way in over your head from the start. Starting a life at the bright age of nineteen? Alone? Without any support from your so-called family? How on earth did you ever think you would be able to do this?

“Hmm, interesting.”

With the sound of Selina’s voice, which surprisingly sounded thoughtful compared to before, you squinted one of your eyes open to find her looking at something on your stomach. Now that you realized it, something slightly heavy was now sitting on your abdomen and you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there before.

At first, you thought it was the woman’s shoe that was on your stomach, but when you peeled your eyes all the way open and slowly raised your head to look, instead you found a black ball of fur with a pair of indigo eyes lying comfortably on your stomach.

Selina huffed, her posture loosening, “Well. Looks like Hecate is a better judge of character than I am.”

You blinked, watching her walk back to the kitchen to grab a wine glass from her cabinet. As if everything that had happened only seconds ago was nothing. You glanced from the cat lying on your stomach toward Selina again who was pouring herself some wine.

“What…what the fuck just happened?”

Selina sipped her wine, “Looks like Hecate’s fine with your presence. And the other don’t seem to mind you around them. I’d say you got the job.” She tilted her head curiously. “You still want the job, don’t you?”

At that point, it didn’t matter how much pain you were in how much your back was sore when you moved, or how her arm screamed in protest every time you lifted it. You scrambled to your feet and rushed out of that apartment as fast as you could, not daring to look or step foot in that place ever again.

This was the first job you applied to. And it was the first interview you had ever run out of.

It was a sour start to your new life in Gotham City. You just hoped that it would get better from here.

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄

summary: attempting long distance makes it clear to you and jamie that you need each other

warnings: loneliness, sad jamie, kissing, tiny bit of cursing

word count: 1.19k

Jamie was sprawled out on his bed in his cramped apartment in Philadelphia, staring blankly at the empty walls. He hadn’t decorated yet, let alone had the proper furniture. His bed was simply a mattress on the floor, his coffee table doubling as a kitchen table.

Jamie had been in Philly for about a month now. You’d think a month was enough to adjust to a new city, and while he had settled into a routine and gotten comfortable with all of the city’s quirks, something still felt off.

It was you. He missed you deeply. Your laughter, your presence, your comfort. You were his anchor. But you were tied to your job over 2,000 miles away in Anaheim. You guys had discussed this before he left, that 3 months wasn’t that long and you could withstand it. Then, at the season's end, you’d talk about your future together.

However, here you both were, on opposite sides of the country, distance putting a strain on the both of you.

Jamie did his normal pre-game routine with you on his mind. He thought of the fact that you were probably at work right now, wrapping up final tasks, before heading home and putting on the Flyers game. It was a miracle he found someone as supportive as you, willing to put up with the long days and stress that being a professional athlete could bring.

Each game he played knowing that when he got home he wouldn’t be coming home to you made them harder and harder. The facetimes and calls were not enough anymore and the strain on Jamie was starting to show in his gameplay. Today’s game was horrible. Jamie was benched for almost the entire third after he gave up 3 separate turnovers. Amidst the rowdy Philadelphia crowd, upset that their team was losing, his mind wandered to you. It was always you.

Jamie kept to himself while getting changed and showering, truly wanting to go home just to call you. After an unbearable 5 minutes with the media, Jamie trudged out of the locker room, shoulders slumped and spirits in the basement. Walking down the hall, Jamie feels an arm hook around his shoulders.

“Why the long face?” Cam asks.

Jamie shrugs off Cam's arm, his mind still reeling. "Just had a rough game, man. Ready to get out of here."

Cam flashes him a sly, knowing grin. “It’ll pick up soon, bud.” He says.

Jamie ignores his teammates' words, continuing down the halls of the Wells Fargo Centre. As he turned the bend, greeted by a myriad of voices, there you were.

Jamie could’ve sworn he was seeing things, maybe reaching a point of delusion. But there you were, standing with his teammates' girlfriends. Jamie’s heart lifted upon seeing you, the weight of a thousand worlds falling behind him as he headed straight for you. When he reached you, his arms enveloped you in a tight embrace.

The world around him fades away leaving only you two suspended in this moment. His touch is firm yet gentle, a silent declaration of his need for your presence, your comfort.

“Hi, James.” You say softly into his chest. Your delicate tone nearly sends Jamie over the edge, the reality of everything catching up to him, tears threatening to prick at his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly. You guys stay there for a few more moments before you force Jamie to walk to his car with you.

Deciding you had so much to talk about, Jamie drove you to a park to walk around while you guys spoke. You intertwined your fingers with Jamie's, drawing strength from the reassuring warmth of his touch. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the struggles you had endured during your time apart.

“So, what are you doing here?” Jamie asks, his grin having still not faded since first seeing you.

“I had to see you…” You tell him. “So I took two weeks off.”

“You did what?” Jamie asked.

“Jamie, I missed you so much, it was almost unbearable.” You confessed, your voice conveying the pain it had truly caused you. “With the time difference and our weird, conflicting schedules… I had to come and see you.”

Jamie's expression softened, his gaze filled with empathy as he listened to your words. He understood all too well the pain of separation, the relentless tug of loneliness that pulled at his heart with every passing day.

“Y/n, I missed you too. I’ve been fucking miserable.” Jamie said, a small chuckle escaping as he recounts the past couple of days. “It's like… no matter how many times we talk on the phone or text each other, it's never enough. I need you here with me, physically, emotionally… I just…”

Jamie suddenly stops walking, turning to face you.

“Marry me.”

The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before he knew it, the both of you sharing the same shocked reaction to his words. The unexpected proposal makes you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Despite them being blurted out, Jamie knew that they were real feelings.

“W-what?” You ask. It felt as though time stood still as you processed his words. Jamie takes both of your hands in his, his eyes glimmering.

“I’m serious. Marry me.” He says again. “These last couple of months have been…fucking hell on earth. I’ve been miserable. And for a while, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. At first, I thought it was the lack of sun… or maybe it was taking me a little longer than I thought to adjust to a new city. But it was you. I couldn’t bear not having you with me.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, jaw open slack as you were processing his words.

“I want you here in Philly, with me. And whatever it takes.” Jamie says. “You can get another job here, in Philly, I’m sure the guys of their wives have connections here and they could help. Or don’t work! I can support you, I don’t care. What I’m trying to say is-”

You cut off Jamie’s rambling, pressing your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. Your lips melded together, picking up as if you had never been separated. As you parted, a small smile graced your lips. Jamie’s eyes scanned your face, desperate to read what you were thinking.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady with resolve. "Yes, I will marry you. And yes, I will come live with you in Philadelphia. We can figure everything else out later.”

Jamie let out a huff of relief before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you above the ground. You squeal, your laughter ringing like a melody in Jamie’s ears.

“Oh my god, I have a wife!” Jamie cheered loudly.

He leans down pressing a kiss to your lips, holding you close once again. As you held each other close, the weight of loneliness lifted from Jamie's heart, replaced by the comforting certainty of your presence.

“I love you so much.” Jamie whispers against your lips.

[kaminokatie]

Baby-Trapping || Anakin Skywalker

Synopsis - Anakin Skywalker babytraps you.

Warnings - NSFW.

Note - Based on my c.ai bot linked here.

Word Count - 3.1k.

{Caffeinate Me}

Being a renown author in the Galactic Republic was an honour in itself, but when a few Jedi turned up to your latest book signing on Coruscant, you were over the moon. To know that even peacekeepers like the Jedi had taken an interest in your books felt like a huge accomplishment in one sense. What you didn’t know, however, was that you had caught the attention of none other than Anakin Skywalker - his gorgeous blue eyes looked right through the crowd and at you as you signed the books of the fans waiting in front of him. Then he finally got to the front, your book clutched tightly in his cybernetic hand as he flashed you a smile that went straight to your heart. “Hey, I’m Anakin Skywalker,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back at him, trying to calm down your quick beating heart. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he whispered, handing the book to you. He watched as you signed the cover of the book delicately, your signature a work of art in his eyes. 

“Did you like the book?” You asked as your pen glided across the smoothened cover. 

Anakin nodded. “Very much so. I’d say it was my favourite one yet.” 

“That’s good to hear,” you giggled. “I am particularly proud of the story I managed to come up with, and in such a short space of time too.”

“Really?” Anakin asked, that movie-star-like smile never leaving his face. “You should tell me about it over dinner.”  

Your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at his words but you found yourself nodding regardless. “S-Sure.” 

“Great. I’ll pick you up at lets say, after the book signing at five?” Anakin asked. You nodded your head in agreement, a slight blush now rested on your cheeks as you handed the book back to him. Anakin excitedly took the now signed book and winked at you before he bowed and walked away into the crowd. To say that your heart was beating rapidly was an understatement: it felt as though it was about to beat right out of your chest. Despite this, you tried to keep yourself calm and focus on the rest of the fans that were waiting for their books to be signed. 

By the time the signing was over, you were socially exhausted. You were starting to regret agreeing to go to dinner with Anakin, but the second you saw him walk back into the bookstore to pick you up, you perked up. He had seemingly gotten ten times more handsome since you had last met him just a few hours ago. “I’m here to pick you up, m’lady,” he grinned, offering you his non-gloved hand. 

You nodded your head at him, smiling politely and took his outstretched hand. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice small and shy. 

Anakin quickly whisked you out of the stuffy bookstore and onto the speeder he had arrived in before hopping in the driver's seat himself. “Where to?” He asked, looking at you with those piercing blue eyes. 

“Actually, I’m quite new around here so I don't know what’s good,” you replied sheepishly.

“I guess I’ll have to take you to one of my favourite places. It’s nothing fancy, but the food is always delicious. Unless, you’d prefer fancy?” Anakin grinned.

You shook your head rapidly, not wanting to seem stuck-up to the Jedi besides you. “No! It’s fine.”  

“Great,” Anakin practically purred. “It’s a local diner. Like I said, nothing fancy, but great food.”

“Sounds good,” you smiled, looking at the flying speeders ahead of you. 

To say that Anakin was a good flyer was another understatement of the day. He got you to the diner fast, and yet, safely. It was a rather nice journey, even if he did keep his eyes on you for most of the ride. Anakin helped you off the speeder and walked hand-in-hand with you into the diner, taking a seat near the window. As you sat down opposite Anakin, you took in the brightly coloured furniture, walls, floor and ceiling before turning to admire the various amounts of decorations hanging around the diner. “What do you think?” Anakin asked, snapping you out of your trance. 

“It’s oddly soothing, dare I say almost homely,” you replied. Of course you were talking more about the familial atmosphere than the brightly coloured decor, but you think Anakin understood that as he nodded his head. 

“Ah, young Skywalker!” A voice boomed, forcing you to turn your head. 

“That’s the diner's owner, lovely guy,” Anakin explained quietly to you before waving at the owner who was already waddling his way over to your table. 

“And my Maker…” the owner trailed off as he reached your table, his eyes widening as he saw you. “Could it be that the Y/N L/N has stepped into my small diner?” You grinned immediately at the recognition and nodded your head. The owner held his hand out for you to shake, which you did happily. “It’s an honour to meet you, my dear. Absolutely a huge fan of your work!” His voice boomed. 

“I’m glad you are, Sir,” you smiled, shaking his hand. 

Anakin couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows at the owner’s hand lingering on yours slightly longer than needed. Anakin then cleared his throat, catching the owner's attention. “I’ll have the usual please,” he said before turning to you. “What would you like?” 

You pulled your hand away from the owner’s and smiled at Anakin. “I trust your instincts so I’ll have the same as you.” 

“Great choice! They shall be out for you soon,” the owner chimed before waddling back to the kitchen to get started on making yours and Anakin’s food. 

Anakin stared at you, taking in every detail of your feature as you stared out of the diner window, the light from the buildings only serving to enhance your beauty. “So,” Anakin said, causing your attention to be turned to him and only him. “You said you’d tell me more about your book.”

“I suppose I did,” you smiled, nodding your head. “What would you like to know?” 

Anakin thought for a moment before responding. “Well, you said that you came up with the story in such a short space of time… How did you manage to do that?” 

“Well,” you said giggling, “it actually was a dream of mine. I keep a diary of my dreams, you see and well… this particular one really stood out to me.” 

“A dream you say?” Anakin grinned. “You must have some rather vivid and unusual dreams then.” 

“You could say that.” Just as Anakin was about to ask you another question, your food and drinks were brought out of the kitchen by a droid. You were about to take your plate from the droid’s serving tray when Anakin held his hand out. Your plate lifted from the tray and hovered over to you, before being placed lightly in front of you. Your eyes lit up as you looked at Anakin, a wide smile on your lips. “That’s amazing!” You exclaimed, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s nothing,” Anakin replied, blushing slightly at your amazement. Anakin took his own food and drink before the droid turned away and hovered back to the kitchen. The Jedi couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of pride swelling in his chest. 

You immediately started digging into the food on your plate as you felt Anakin’s eyes stare at you. You looked up at him with a sheepish smile on your face and a mouthful of food before swallowing. “Sorry, I’m starving. Haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” Anakin looked at you with concern etched onto his handsome features. “Usually, I’d have eaten by now, but book signings can get really busy and leave me with not enough time for a break.” 

“I see,” Anakin responded. “Do you like doing the signings?” 

You took another bite of food and nodded your head enthusiastically. “Definitely! It’s always great to meet those who enjoy my books.” 

“I must say, you’re even more beautiful in person,” Anakin whispered, taking a small bite out of his own food. You blushed at his comment and shook your head, but Anakin was quick to shut down your insecurities. “Seriously. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, not used to these types of compliments. 

You and Anakin talked more about your books and your writing process as you ate. You had found yourself rambling about your next book to Anakin, explaining the overall plot and asking him about his opinions, to which he seemed extremely receptive. He encouraged you to start writing as soon as you could, and that he couldn’t wait to purchase it in store to find out more. When it was time for you to head home, desperate for an earlier night than usual due to another book signing the next day, Anakin offered to take you back. You gladly accepted his offer and gave him your address, jumped in the speeder and rode back to the apartment complex you were staying at for the time being. Anakin, like before, helped you out of the speeder and like a gentleman, walked you to the front door before turning you around. “I had a good time with you tonight Y/N,” he whispered, his voice silky and smooth. He had your back pressed against the door and his body was incredibly close to yours. Your breathing, erratic. 

Before you even realised what you were saying, the words came out of your mouth. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Very much so,” he purred against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You turned around, your back pressed firmly against his chest as you unlocked the door before pulling him in. 

Immediately, Anakin’s lips met yours in a hot kiss, his body pressing up against yours. A soft gasp left your lips as you felt his hardening length pressed against your thigh. You knew where this was going, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care right at that moment. You kissed Anakin back feverishly, hands making their way to his curly brown locks and tugging on them slightly forcing the Jedi to let out a soft moan. “Where’s your bedroom?” Anakin asked, impatience laced his voice. 

You pulled away from Anakin’s lips and pointed down the hallway. “Second door,” you replied breathlessly. 

Anakin nodded, his lips attaching to yours again instantly as he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bedroom. Anakin opened the door using The Force, and closed it again before detaching his lips from yours and throwing you on to the large king-sized, silk ridden bed. He looked down at you with a hunger in his eyes that he hadn’t ever felt for anybody else before, all his principles of being a Jedi and following the Code went out of the window the moment he saw you. “Do you want this?” He asked softly, his voice a low growl. You didn’t trust yourself to use your words to answer so instead, you just nodded your head at him, staring up at the man hovering over you with desire. “Good girl.” Anakin’s praise sent a wave of heat straight to your core and you bucked your hips up slightly, your cunt clenching around nothing. Anakin grinned at your reaction and shoved the Jedi robes off of his body, allowing them to hit the ground with a silent thud. He didn’t hesitate, taking the rest of his clothes off and showing you his muscular, yet slender frame that had your mouth watering at the sight. His cock, slightly tanned and standing to attention was already leaking pre-cum and twitching at the thought of actually being inside of you. You took your own clothes off eagerly, pulling your trousers down and exposing your shamefully soaked panties. Anakin let out a groan at the sight, delighted to see the effect he was having you already. “Nice and wet for me already baby?” He cooed softly. 

You nodded your head, biting your bottom lip. You couldn’t even bring it in yourself to be ashamed at how wet you were just at the sight of his exposed body. Anakin stood at the edge of the bed jerking himself off to the sight of your naked form, his breaths coming out in laboured pants, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure before he pulled his hand away and climbed onto the bed. He stalked over to you, leaving a trail of wet kisses up your thighs before settling in between your legs, his tongue immediately licking a stripe up your slit. You gasped, hands once again flying to his brown locks to keep his head in place. Anakin couldn’t believe it. He was actually eating out THE Y/N L/N. His tongue dipped inside your tight heat as he slurped, sending shockwaves of pleasure up your body. Your legs dangled over his shoulders, clenching around his head as his tongue slipped out of your hole and made its way to your throbbing clit. “Anakin!” You cried out softly, silent pants leaving your lips as he continued his assault on your cunt. 

“Mhmm,” Anakin mumbled against your pussy. The hum sending another wave of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, and it almost made you embarrassed. But the feeling of Anakin’s tongue on your clit had your mind devoid of everything other than the pleasure you were feeling. “You going to cum for me baby? Hmm?” Anakin asked against your cunt. 

“Maker, yes!” You cried out, your head resting against the plush pillows. He grinned in response, bucking his hips against the mattress in an attempt to soothe his aching erection. 

“Cum for me baby girl, you can do it,” he whispered, knowing his praise would teeter you over the edge - and it did. The mixture of his praise and pet name had you cumming shamelessly over his tongue and without missing a beat, Anakin slurped up every last drop of juices you had to offer. “Good girl,” he cooed, bringing his hand up to gently slap your throbbing clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, but quickly moaned in response. He kissed up your stomach, trailing through the valley of your breasts before he hovered just above your face. As embarrassing as it was, you could smell your pussy on his breath and it only increased your already burning desire for him. You felt Anakin slick the raw head of his cock up your slit before he slowly pushed himself in, inch by delicious inch. He groaned loudly at the sensation of your walls clenching around him and threw his head back, eyes shut tight. It was by far the best feeling he had ever experienced. Your legs went to wrap around his waist, but Anakin had different ideas, popping your legs straight up his chest and over his head so his cock could hit deeper inside of you.

You couldn’t help the noise that ripped from your throat as he began to buck his hips against yours. The squeal that left you was obscene and yet, erotic to Anakin’s ears. He moved his hips faster, not bothering about the loud creaking noises of your bed hitting the wall that you shared with your neighbours. He wanted people to hear him fucking you. The galaxy’s most renown author being fucked stupid in her bedroom - the scandals it would bring if the press were hear to listen to your loud moans and the wet, squelching noises your cunt made as it fluttered around his cock. “Anakin!” You squealed, eyes rolling back into your head as his hips slammed against yours faster and harder. The Jedi was chasing a high he had never experienced before and it was becoming addictive. The feeling of your tight pussy around his cock was something Anakin wanted to experience day in and day out for the rest of his life. You felt the coil in your stomach tightening once more the deeper Anakin pushed his large cock into you.

“Kriff, I can feel you tightening around me baby,” Anakin groaned lowly, his hands coming to rest gently around your throat. “You're going to cum again, hmm?” You nodded your head as Anakin stared deeply into your eyes before he slammed his lips against yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, enveloping your tongue with his own. He was close too, his cock twitching as his movements stuttered desperately against yours. “I’m cumming too,” Anakin moaned against your lips, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

“Anakin, pull out!” You cried out, panic lacing your voice as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

Anakin shook his head, his lips nipping at the skin on your throat. “No. Think about how precious our babies would be, baby. They’d have your beautiful eyes, and my nose and-” he whimpered. The thought alone made him cum so hard, spurting his creamy load deep inside your womb as his hips stuttered one last time. You let out a whine as you felt him spill inside of you, your eyes widening with disbelief: a man you had just met a few hours ago at your book signing had cum inside of you. When Anakin pulled out of you, he remained on top of your body, kissing your neck lovingly as he nuzzled against you. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.” Immediately, you felt anxiety swell in the pit of your stomach as Anakin rubbed your stomach. “Just think about it…” He whispered against your throat before rolling off of you and laying next to you. 

The next morning, your eyes fluttered open as memories of the night before played through your mind. Anakin’s arms were wrapped around your waist and he was snoring peacefully. You sat up slowly, trying your hardest not to wake the sleeping Jedi but he knew. He could sense you were awake. “Good morning,” he whispered sleepily, a dreamy expression on his face. 

“Morning,” you whispered back, rubbing your eyes. You looked down at Anakin, his brown curls messily splayed on your silk pillow as his blue eyes looked up at you. 

“How did you sleep?” He asked, smiling softly.

“Good,” you replied, nodding your head. “Yourself?”

“Better than ever,” he said as he sat up, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “I need to go, but I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Later?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he dressed himself. 

“Yeah, later,” he turned to you with a grin. “I’ll pick you up from your book signing again.”  It was only then as you looked at Anakin that you realised what you had gotten yourself into by accepting his initial date: some sort of relationship with a crazed fan, and not just any fan, a Jedi.

[werepuppy-steve]

woke up thinking about how we don't know if steve even lives at his house on loch nora anymore. what if part of his dad cutting him off was also kicking him out? he's got enough money from the government saves up from the previous two years, he could leave hawkins in the dust and get a place in indianapolis.

but he doesn't. two years of government hush money also means there's a chance of it coming back. so he stays. he temporarily moves in with dustin and claudia before dustin leaves for camp. they set up the spare bedroom for him and claudia helps him look in the paper for job listings. there's a flyer for starcourt in the inserts with "now hiring!" in bold yellow letters. he figures it wouldn't hurt.

he starts at scoops and meets robin, gets tortured a little. but it's fine because the kids are safe and his pockets end up being a little heavier this time around. an "apology" of sorts for being a casualty of the cold war, they said.

when his face is all healed and he can see out of his left eye again, claudia (who i hc to be in real estate) helps him look for properties. by the middle of october, steve is signing the papers for a mortgage on a little two bedroom (bc of course dustin is going to have a room there) tudor on the outskirts of hawkins. he doesn't have much in the means of decorating, but with the help of claudia, dustin, robin, and the rest of the party (including karen wheeler, which surprises steve a little), steve ends up with a cosy little home filled with knick knacks and furniture that were either thrifted or donated. absolutely none of it matches, but for the first time in what feels like his entire life, steve has something that is his.

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ HAUNTED HOUSE — feat. lyney event masterlist.

synopsis. your new house is a bit strange. doors keep slamming, there's whispering in your ears, and you have the distinct feeling you're unwelcome here. warnings. none (?) notes. requested by anon. ghost!lyney au. gn!reader. 2.2k words. IM SORRY THIS IS LATE. i was busy and forgot :((

“Four bedrooms, two bathrooms—not including an ensuite in the master bedroom—and a very large garden. There’s a lake towards the south of the property, and it is within walking distance of the local town.” The real estate agent flashed you a dazzling smile. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Houses of this quality aren’t typically offered at this price.”

You looked around, admiring the delicate architecture. The paint might have been peeling in some places, but the arched windows and carved pillars gave the place a timeless and elegant atmosphere. With a little fixing, the house would return to its former glory in no time.

“Why is it priced so low, then?”

“While it is still in good condition, the house will require a lot of upkeep. There are renovations and repairs that need to be done, but nothing that isn’t salvageable.” The woman explained.

The reasoning wasn’t unplausible, but it still didn’t sit quite right with you.

“Is there not any other reason?” You pressed further. “You told me there weren’t any other buyers lined up. Why is that?”

Her smile dropped minutely, and her hands clutched her clipboard tighter. “I-I suppose that would be the fault of its… um, reputation.”

“Reputation?” You frowned.

“Oh, just silly rumours. It’s nothing to be concerned about, but the townsfolk are a superstitious lot.” She replaced her smile, gesturing to the front door. “Shall we look at the interior now?”

-----

It wasn’t a difficult decision to make. She was right, it was an unmissable opportunity; there wasn’t a chance that you were going to find a house as nice as this one on a budget as tight as yours.

You moved in over the weekend, settling all of your belongings in the spacious, already furnished rooms. The inside of the house was just as pleasant as the exterior, filled with expensive-looking furniture covered with dusty sheets, and hanging chandeliers that cast a warm glow over every room. Even the gardens, covered in dead leaves and debris, were oddly quaint.

It was perfect, almost too perfect.

“Mail… got to check the mail…” You muttered, fumbling for the key to the mailbox. It was your third day, and you had already almost fully settled in. Most of your possessions were out of their boxes, and almost all of the rooms had been cleaned and dusted.

When you opened your door, there was a woman stood on your porch, staring up at the house with a melancholic expression. She looked much older than you—in her fifties, perhaps—with ash-blonde hair streaked with gray, violet eyes and pale, wrinkled skin. On her left cheek was a faint, star-shaped mark, like a tattoo that had long-since faded.

“So, it’s true…” The woman murmured, eyeing you up and down. “They finally sold the place…”

“Can I help you?” You asked hesitantly. She stared at you for a long time, before shaking her head.

“No… just reminiscing.” She straightened up, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself. “Good luck. He is fickle, but not unreasonable. I hope for your sake you are able to reason with him.”

Bewildered, you watched as she shuffled back down the street into the direction of the town. Her words made no sense, but her tone was enough to make you uneasy. The way she spoke of a ‘him’ made it sound like there was someone for you to be wary of, a hidden face to fear.

When you made it to the mailbox, it took a few turns of the key for the lock to click open. You peered through the slot, fishing out a flyer, two letters, and a folded piece of paper shoved into the corner of the box. The flyer was a promotion for a new pizza shop downtown, the letters were both bills, but the last item caught your attention most of all.

Tucking the others under your arm, you unfolded the note. The paper was fragile, almost crumbling under your fingers, but you managed to pull it open anyway to reveal an old advertisement that looked to be cut out of a newspaper.

Lyney & Lynette’s Magic Show. The title was printed above a cartoon drawing of two magicians, with one holding a large top hat and the other pulling a rabbit out of it. At the bottom, in much smaller text, was the date of the performance: February 2nd, 1985.

Despite being decades old, the advertisement was still intact and fully readable, even if the colours were slightly faded. And yet, as you moved your hand, you noticed a smudge of black on your fingers.

You flipped the paper. On the back there was a simple message, scrawled in fresh black ink: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

-----

The note should have been your first sign to leave, you didn’t pay it much mind. Instead, you crumpled the paper up and threw it in the garbage bin outside, chalking it up to some kid trying to play a trick on their new neighbour.

You had more important matters to concern yourself with, namely the attic that you had yet to clean. It was filled from top to bottom with enough dust to make you cough and splutter as soon as you opened the trapdoor. Still, you pushed forward, covering your mouth with a cloth as you cleaned away the dusty furniture and boxes that were stacked along the side.

Leaning against the attic window was what looked like a frame, half-covered in another white cloth. With a gentle tug, the fabric was pulled free to reveal an oil painting, depicting a family portrait. There were four figures, a tall woman with white hair and sharp eyes, a young boy with a blonde bob and grave expression, and a pair of slightly older children with matching ash-blonde hair.

The dust covering the frame was twice as thick as the rest of the attic, as if the painting hadn’t been touched in decades. With the fabric shielding the family from view, it was as if whoever lived in the house previously had hidden them away, out of sight.

Absently, you stretched out a hand, intending on wiping away some of the dust with your fingertips.

Crack.

The sudden noise made you jump, pulling your hand back to your chest. With a pounding heart, you looked over to where a floor-length mirror, one that was leaned against the wall only five minutes prior, had fallen onto the floor and shattered to pieces.

“No!” You hissed, leaping to your feet. You hurried down the ladder to grab a garbage bag and broom from the kitchen, returning to sweep up the broken glass and quickly dispose of it.

In your rush, you never noticed that the oil painting had been covered up with a cloth once more.

-----

After that, the strangeness kept adding up.

Doors slammed at random times of the day, glasses shattered in your hands before you could take a sip of your water, whispers sounded from the corner of your room in the middle of the night. You couldn’t keep telling yourself you were overthinking things, not when the signs were so clear.

Whatever apparition was haunting your house, you could sense how unwelcoming it was to your presence. There was an anger that hung in the air, as if it resented you for simply being there. It didn’t seem as though it was trying to harm you—not directly, at least—but it was clear that it was hell-bent on driving you out. When scaring you didn’t work, it seemed to redirect its strategy to irritating you instead.

One morning, you woke up to find all your left socks missing. With a scowl, you put on a mismatched pair and walked to the store to buy several new pairs.

The next day, all of the furniture in the living room had mysteriously moved to the bathroom, including the television. Unfazed, you simply curled up on the armchair and watched your favourite show right there.

That same night, you stumbled out of your room to pour yourself a glass of water, only to realize that the cups and glasses were stacked on top of the refrigerator. You didn’t even bother to drag a chair over to retrieve them, you just found a decorative teacup out of the display cabinet, and sipped your water out of that.

It was persistent, but unlucky for it, you were stubborn. This was your house now, and you weren’t going to let some ghost scare you off.

The final straw came when you were relaxing by the fire, reading a book. It was a long day at your new job, and coming home to a warm house was a dream come true. But you had barely opened up your book when all of the lights above you flicked off, and the fireplace was suddenly snuffed out.

The room was plunged into a thick darkness, and your precious warmth was stolen away, making you shiver. Something inside you snapped, and the annoyance you’d built up over the past month finally made you crack.

“That’s it!” You shut your book with a click, slamming it down on the table.

You stood, scanning the darkened room. The shadows of the furniture loomed across the walls, twisting into ominous shapes by the moonlight spilling through the blinds. “I know for a fact you’re here, so listen. I don’t care what vendetta you have against me, but this needs to stop. I’m not going anywhere, this is my house now.”

There was long pause, before you spoke again. “You can hate me as much as you want, but I am not going to let you push me around.”

You glance around, waiting for some shift in the shadows, some sign that the spectre was hearing what you were saying. “Am I clear?”

The room fell into quiet again. It stretched on for what felt like hours, leaving you wondering if there truly wasn’t anything there at all, and whether it was just your paranoia getting to you again. The air was thick and tense, the only sound being the distant ticking of a clock from another room.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Finally, a voice cut through the silence. “…It is my house, actually.”

Your head snapped to the side, finding the faint, flickering image of a man sitting on the side of the couch with his arms crossed. He looked young, in his early twenties at the oldest, and was dressed in some sort of stage costume. On his cheek was a small teardrop marking, standing out against his pale face.

“Who are you?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“Should I not be asking you that question?” The man raised an eyebrow, annoyance etched across his expression. “Considering you are the one who is trespassing on my property?”

“It’s not your property if you’re dead.” You said bluntly, internally wincing at how insensitive it sounded. Still, knowing how much he had put you through halted any pity you felt for him. “I bought this house, therefore it's mine.”

“It is mine.” His eyes narrowed. “I lived here for years. If it is not mine, it is my brother’s or my sister’s. You are neither of those people, so you are not welcome here.”

“Clearly neither of them want it, or else they’d already be here.” You countered. “I’m living here now. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

He glared at you. The edges of his image blurred and wavered, becoming indistinct. “That’s easy for you to say. Do you know how frustrating it is, having a stranger barge into your home? Having them rearrange your furniture, disturb your belongings? Sure, I’ll get used to you sifting through my family’s heirlooms and tossing them aside like they’re nothing. I’ll get used to it all.”

The anger in his voice didn't hide the trace of pain behind his words. He was clearly just frustrated, and you couldn't exactly blame him.

“Look, I’m sorry,” You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know… I know it must be hard for you. And...”

You chew the inside of your cheek in thought, looking away from him to observe the empty fireplace. There were still embers flickering at the bottom, even after the flames had been extinguished.

“We don’t have to be friends,” You turned back to him, smiling hesitantly. “How about you consider me your… roommate?”

The man stared at you unblinkingly. The proposition looked like it offended him just as much as the idea of giving up his house did, but there was something else that you couldn't quite figure out in his expression.

Was it... loneliness?

It made sense, in a way. Being trapped for however long since he'd died, without another soul to accompany him, loneliness was inevitable. You could only imagine how he felt, holing himself up in his house and lashing out at anyone who dared to disturb him. Even with the anger clouding his face, there was still a longing in his gaze at your proposal.

“A fresh start then.” He broke out into a sharp, painfully fake smile, and held out his hand in offering. “My name is Lyney. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

🏷️ taglist: @tragedy-of-commons, @mollzaj, @wystiix, @mikashisus.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x jack daniels

genre: smut, minors dni, dude ranch au, modern au

word count: 7.7k

summary: joel challenges jack to make you into the finest there possibly is in two days.

warnings: threesome (mfm), mlm dynamics, some jealousy, outdoor sex, piv, oral sex, dirty talking

a/n: happy birthday @fuckyeahdindjarin 🎉 I hope you enjoy you slutty cowboys--both of them nearly gave me a heart-attack while writing ❤️‍🔥 this gif was made my the lovely @pedrorascal who I am so grateful for helping me out preparing your this bday surprise!

**dividers by @saradika

You take a breath and sneak out of the cozy room. It had been hard parting away from your cozy bed. The warmth provided by the hand-knitted blanket and the scent of delicious wood made you want to never leave. They’ve really done a great job decorating the rooms of the dude ranch. It still holds the Western theme you love, but it's also adorned with rustic charm, from the weathered leather furniture to the handcrafted wooden accents, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

It had been a couple of days since your arrival. You were tired of... well, everything and desperately needed an out. You wish you could say that it happened like in the movies— a divine sign that made you come here, but no. There was no divine intervention, no mysterious flyer sticking to your face. You had to do an endless amount of research to find the perfect place, and when you were done, you picked the ranch that had the least foot traffic. You were running away from people. Choosing the most touristy one would defeat the purpose—you wanted to be alone.

And you were glad that you did. The place was amazing. Surrounded by large mountains and wide fields. This place wasn’t so people would come and see what was what. It was an actual ranch with actual people working all the time. Accepting guests was the side hustle and not the other way around. 

There were two cowboys that you constantly saw: Joel Miller and Jack Daniels. Both charming, both handsome enough to make you want to scream. Jack had been personally assigned to you, but Joel was always around, watching, observing, and, of course, running his mouth. You’ve grown accustomed to their odd friendship... rivalry? It was actually kind of cute to see Jack turn all red whenever Joel said something to undermine him. And the other seemed to know that well.

Two talented cowboys. And you, who had no idea what the hell you were doing. 

Which is why you were escaping your room like some kind of criminal at the brink of dawn. Joel’s teasing wasn’t only reserved for Jack, you got your fair share as well and it was even worse when Jack chimed in—the two seasoned horse riders letting you know just how out of your element you were. You needed to train without those two constantly spitting quips your way.

You silently make your way to the stables and blindly reach out towards Honeydust, the palomino Jack had gotten you accustomed to. You gently guide her away from the other horses. The rose-pink light of dawn has begun to trickle through the open windows, painting Honeydust’s coat in a gorgeous hue. You regret not bringing your phone; you would’ve loved to show Jack and Joel later on.

“Alright girl,” you mutter as you pat the side of her face. She whinnies slightly and digs her hoof into the ground. “It’s you and me. Let’s show them how it’s done.” 

As you reach for the saddle, you smile to yourself. You might not be that good at horse riding yet but you did learn some things—like the value of a good saddle. You take a moment to inhale the scent of it— a mix of leather, hay, and a hint of earthiness.

Honeydust stands patiently, seemingly aware of your fumbling attempts to secure the saddle. You take a deep breath, remembering the lessons Jack patiently gave you about saddling up. Slowly but surely, you manage to get everything in place. As you tighten the cinch, you feel a sense of accomplishment. A week ago, you hadn’t been able to do this. Maybe you're not a full-on cowboy, but you're determined to learn the ropes.

With the saddle secured, you grab the reins and lead Honeydust out of the stable, into the cool morning air. The sky is a canvas of pastel colors—blues, pinks, and golds blending together as the sun inches higher. It's a breathtaking sight. You pat Honeydust on the muzzle and press your cheek against her, watching the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful,” you whisper to her. “Honestly I’m gonna hate going back. It’s been a couple of days and I’m already attached to this place.” 

Honeydust snorts and shakes her head. You smile wide as you pat her again, “You’re right. No room for sentimentality.” 

Mounting Honeydust, you settle into the saddle, adjusting to the feel of it beneath you. The quiet creak of leather is drowned out by the sounds of the waking ranch. Birds chirp in the distance, and you take a deep breath, your lungs filling with the fresh scent of the outdoors—

But then you’re slipping. 

And then falling. 

With a loud, sharp gasp, you find yourself unexpectedly upside down beneath Honeydust's belly. Panic sets in as you register the proximity of her powerful legs, your eyes widen, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. Honeydust remains still, your body still miraculously hanging to the saddle. 

Your heartbeat starts to slow, you take a deep breath. You’re fine. You’re okay. You just forgot to fasten one of the belts. 

“Need any help there, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Busted. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, emphasizing the latter. Jean-clad legs come into view. “Just. . . trying a new riding style.” 

“Is that so?” Joel drawls, amusement dripping with every word. “And what would you call this one? The hangin’ fool?” 

“Rude.” 

His hips cock to the side and you see him placing both hands on his narrow hips, “Would it be better if I called it the hangin’ beauty?” 

“Yes actually, it would.” 

Your cheeks warm as he steps closer. You try not to stare, or perhaps that’s just you lying to yourself, but whatever your true intention was your eyes linger right over his crotch. Even with the thick jeans and the belt buckle, you know he’s packing underneath there. You can especially tell now since this is the closest you’ve ever been to it. Your mouth waters. Your brain delving further into sinful imagination when his low chuckle echoes in your ear. 

“A’right then beautiful, let’s get you out here.” he stops for a beat, his knuckles brushing down the outer part of your leg. You shudder, your legs tighten around Honeydust. “Unless you wanna show me this new ridin’ style of yours?” 

“You know what, I think I’ll take a rain check on that.” your voice is shrill and pitchy. Your eyes start to throb. “Especially since all the blood in my body is currently in my head.” 

“Oh shit—Okay, just gimme a sec.” he slides his hands under your armpits. “A’right now let go.” 

“What?” 

“Just let go, sweetheart. I got you. You’ll be okay, promise.” 

With a sharp breath, you close your eyes and loosen your legs. Joel's arms wrap further beneath yours, drawing you closer. You feel the tightening of his biceps, feel the huff of his breath against your cheek. He takes a step back and suddenly unbalanced, he falls backward, pulling you along.

With a huff, Joel lands on his ass, and you find yourself comfortably nestled against his chest. It takes you only a second for your gaze to find his. You hold your breath and so does he. His hand pleasantly curls around your waist, keeping you from moving away. His chest is firm under your own, your nipples tightening when you shift a bit, the graze of fabric makes you shudder. 

His other hand comes to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You swallow not once but twice. The warmth of Joel’s palm cradles your cheek and a slow breath exits your lungs. 

“You a’right?” 

“Y—Yeah. . . thanks for helping me out.” 

“My pleasure.” His voice is deep, hoarse even, and it scratches your ears just right. You find yourself drawn to him. Your eyes dropping to his lips and back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. His lips part. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip more prominent than ever. You lean in without a thought, he mimics you, coming in closer and closer. Your chest heaves. Your heart beating madly against your chest. 

“What the hell are you two doin’ canoodling here?” 

You jerk away, your eyes lingering on Joel long enough to see the disappointment in his gaze. His eyes close slowly and he takes a ragged breath. Shifting slightly you see Jack holding a hay bale. His eyes are narrowed, his brows knitted together as his gaze flits between you and Joel. You chew the inside of your cheek, embarrassment heating you from the inside out. 

“We ain’t canoodlin’,” Joel answers, agitated. “I found her hanging upside down under Honeydust’s belly. Who’s fault do you think is that?” 

Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his cheeks suddenly flushed. His gloved hands tighten around the hay as he pushes it up his arms. Then finally, with a softened gaze, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you reply, your heart currently beating in your throat. “I just forgot to fasten the other side of the saddle.” 

Joel squeezes your waist and you’re suddenly hyper-aware that you’re basically on his lap still. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You have a shit teacher.” 

“Excuse me?” Jack’s tone is enough to have you scrambling off of Joel’s lap. If looks could kill, Joel would be dead right now. On your feet, you move towards Honeydust, and with great comfort, she nuzzles your chest. Joel smiles lazily when Jack drops the bale of hay and walks up to him. “You better take that back, old man.” 

“Yeah?” his eyes glow with mirth. “Make me.” 

Involuntarily you cover your mouth with a hand. Is it bad that you’re secretly enjoying this? The amount of testosterone in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Joel slowly gets up, as if he has all the time in the world, and faces Jack. He’s slightly taller than the latter, smile still tugging at his lips as he tilts his head ever so slightly down. Jack’s nostrils flare. 

“You want me to knock you out in front of our guest?” 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

Joel takes another step closer, his chest nearly flushed against the other, he jerks his head to the side and places his hands on his hips. You swear you see Jack’s skin darkening with a deep shade of red from his chest to his neck. His jaw is wired tight, the muscle there twitching. 

“How about this,” Joel grins. “You manage to make our sweet girl here a full-on cowgirl in two days and I’ll eat my words right outta your hand, Whiskey.” 

Jack huffs and clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me that.” 

“It’s your name isn’t it?” 

“It ain’t and you know it.” 

“Your parents shouldn’t have named you Jack Daniels,” Joel rolls his eyes, “Do we have a deal or not?” 

You hold your breath when Joel extends a hand. Jack’s eyes briefly find yours, his fingers twitching. The morning chill is still in the air and despite it, beads of sweat appear on your skin. Two days. Two days and you still don’t know how to put on a saddle right. With a small shake, you attempt to warn Jack but that only makes him smile. 

He turns to Joel, “Deal,” he answers, taking his hand. “Two days. Be ready to eat your words, old man.” 

They shake on it and as they do Joel gives you a not so subtle wink. It reminds you of just how close the two of you were a mere couple of minutes ago. You avert your gaze, suddenly shy to face him, and think about what might’ve happened if Jack hadn’t interrupted. 

When Joel leaves, Jack lets out a long sigh and turns to you. 

“You slipped, darlin’, really?” 

“In my defense, it was early.” 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He shakes his head but you see the way his lips curl upwards ever so slightly. “Anyway, wait for me here and I’ll be right back. We gotta get you into tip-top shape because I ain’t gonna lose to Joel.” 

“I warned you, you know,” you softly kick the dirt with the tip of your boot. 

Jack’s tongue moves over his bottom lip, a shudder crawls up your spine and heat pools between your legs. He grips the bale of hay and throws it over his shoulder. 

“That’s why I accepted the challenge, sugar. No guest of mine is gonna leave here without feelin’ like they can conquer the world.” 

“Jack this is impossible I’m never going to get the hang of this.” 

“With that attitude you sure ain’t gonna.” 

With a crooked smile, Jack watches as you draw your shoulders together and stomp your boot against the soil. The lasso is tight between your fingers, the tips of which are chafed from turning the lasso again and again in an attempt to loop the rope around one of the wooden posts. He tilts his head to the side when you turn to him, a pleading expression etched onto your beautiful face.

"This is never going to happen," you huff. However, instead of keeping his eyes locked on yours, his gaze drops to where your flannel hugs your breasts, the poor buttons struggling to keep it all together. His cock swells at the thought of licking them, sucking on your hard nipples while the sweetest noises flee from your lips. "Jack?"

He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s been staring at your gorgeous tits, he drags his gaze back slowly, his smile only growing upon seeing your parted lips and glazed eyes. “Yeah, sugar?” 

“We’re never going to win this thing with Joel,” you say and he doesn’t fail to notice how breathless you suddenly are. “How am I supposed to learn to do everything a cowboy can in two days? Seems a bit unfair.” 

“Not everythin’,” he struts towards you and peels the lasso from your fingers. “We just need to cover the basics. No one is expectin’ you to catch a knife in mid-air with a lasso.” 

Your brows furrow, “What? You’re saying you can actually do that?” 

“‘Course I can,” he chirps back. “Unlike you, I’m a top-notch cowboy.” 

His heart breaks a little when he sees how defeated you look, with a small nudge to your shoulder, he draws your gaze back to him. “Want me to show you again darlin’?” 

“Sure but I’m not sure it’ll do me any good. I’m horrible at this.” 

With a reassuring grin, Jack steps back, unwinding the lasso he took from you. He takes a moment to adjust the coils and then demonstrates the art of lassoing, the rope flying through the air in a graceful arc before landing perfectly around a wooden post.

“You see, it's all in the wrist,” he explains as he smoothly tightens the loop, making it look deceptively easy. He repeats the motion a couple of times, each throw precise and controlled.

“You know who’s really good at this?” he asks, returning his attention to you. “Joel.”

You snort, “I feel like that man is good at everything. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”

“Well, you know who used to suck at it—me.”

“You?” you raise a sole eyebrow, and a teasing smile touches your lips. “You who can catch a knife in the air, supposedly, that is.”

“It takes a lot of practice, sugar. That's what I’m tryin’ to tell ya. I sucked at it. Couldn’t even do one loop. Then the old timer helped me out.”

“Joel?”

Yup," he says, noticing your shock. He had been shocked too when the man had shown him how to properly do it. It was both amazing and terrifying. Jack had never had someone care about him enough to actually show him how it's done instead of letting him struggle on his own. "And eventually, I got the hang of it. So will you.”

You smile wholeheartedly and take the lasso from him, “Thanks, Jack. I. . . I appreciate it. You actually really respect him, don’t you? Despite all the banter and arguing.” 

“That’s just how I show love, darlin’.” 

“You never argue with me.” 

His eyebrows tilt up, along with the corner of his lips. You avert your eyes as you loosely hold the rope in your hand, the exercise quickly forgotten. Jack closes the distance until there's only a breath of space between you two. He entertains the idea of lifting your head by the chin, forcing your gaze upon him, but he refrains. He wants you to listen to him and oblige.

“Look at me, darlin’,” His eyes shine with delight when you do, he leans closer. “You want me to fight you?” 

Your brows furrow, your lips forming the most adorable pout, “No. Of course not.” 

“You sure?” This time he does cup your cheek to keep your gaze fixed on him. His pinkies move towards your neck, drawing soft patterns up and down your skin. You visibly shudder, a soft breath escaping your lips. “I see how you watch when Joel and I start to bitch and moan at each other, sugar. You sure you’re not into it even a little?” 

He knows your answer. But he allows you to giggle and escape his hold anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” you say and as a response Jack wants to touch on the fact that you can’t look at him anymore, however, he’ll allow you to escape him for now. 

“Come on then, now that you got your giggles on, let’s see you at least pull in one of those cones.” 

While you attempt to just do that, Jack ends up regretting teasing you because he ends up thinking about Joel instead. It’s hard to admit that the constant bickering is the obvious telltale sign of something more. And he knows there’s something. Joel only weaponizes his tongue when you’re around. Or someone else for that matter. But when it’s just the two of them it’s different. It’s lingering touches and heavy scotch-filled conversations. Sometimes Joel would even whisper so he wouldn’t wake the others. Jack shivers as he remembers how Joel’s lips felt against the shell of his ear. Downright sinful. 

It always remained at that, however. Touches and looks and talks. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Jack,” you say, your voice drawing him away from thoughts he’s happy to be drawn away from. “How did you end up here? Like with Joel and the rest.” 

“It’s not much of a story. I was lookin’ for a job and came here lookin’ for one.” He lifts his hat and combs his hair back with his fingers. “I actually met Tommy first. Joel doesn’t like the hiring process and says his younger brother is a better judge of character. I met him after I was hired. Then I met the little munchkins.” 

“You mean Sarah and Ellie?” 

“Yes ma’am I do,” he reaches forward, letting his fingers nearly brush yours. He chuckles, "I also know what you're doing, so stop stalling and throw the damn lasso already."

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and all Jack wants to do is pry it away from the sharp edges, "Oh, are we arguing? Should I add this moment to my journal?” you manage to lock your gaze with his, a grin spreading across your face. “Does this mean you love me?" 

He takes a step closer, leaning ever so slightly into your personal space. A hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, he breathes, "How 'bout this? You throw that rope, and I'll kiss you, sweetheart. Then you’ll really know what I feel."

Your eyes widen, "You’ll... excuse me?"

A wicked glint in his eyes, he quips, "I'll kiss you, full-blown on the lips. And believe me, it'll be my pleasure to lay one on you."

"Just throw the rope? Aren't you selling a bit short?"

Jack takes another step towards you and you can feel the heat radiating from him. His voice low and husky, he counters, "Fine then, manage to actually lasso something, and then I'll kiss you."

"You're mean. You said you'd only do it if I threw it." You challenge him by taking a step closer and he’s delighted to see it. 

Cupping her face in his hands, he grins, "Changed my mind. And you have yourself to blame for it."

With all his heart Jack wishes for you to make the throw. Something primal and ugly in him finds extreme joy in being the one to kiss you first. He hated to admit it, but his heart broke a little when he found you and Joel together, lips almost about to touch. He hated feeling like an outsider. Especially when it came from Joel.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Gripping the lasso in your hands, you start to swing it in a circular motion above your head. It’s sloppy and uneven but he can see how much care you’ve put into your stance. Jack watches intently, noting the way you shift your weight from one food to another, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

As the lasso gains momentum, you release it at just the right moment. It sails through the air, forming a perfect loop. Jack's eyes follow its trajectory, silently urging it to find its mark. The loop descends gracefully, and, with a satisfying thud, it settles around a nearby plastic cone and you pull it towards yourself, the plastic moving with ease. 

A triumphant grin breaks across your face as you complete the throw. “I did it,” you gasp in a low tone, panting. Your head suddenly snaps towards him, a shit-eating grin plastered over your perfect lips. “I DID IT!”  

Jack only smiles as he leans in and cradles your face in a rush. He crashes into you, lips meeting yours in an eager, lingering kiss. He teases the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Just a brief preview of how badly he wants this to happen. His hands slip to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, his cock stiffens at how you moan into his mouth. You press against him and Jack can’t help but roll his hips to feel more of you. It’s been so long. Too long since he felt something warm and tight around his cock. 

He parts away by dragging his lips down to your chin and from there to your neck. He nips at your pulse, feeling it beating against his mouth. 

“Jack,” you breathe. “I—Wow—” 

“Kissin’ is one thing I’m better at,” he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Among other things.” 

He holds you by the neck and gently pulls away. He can’t get enough of the expression you’re giving him; pupils blown and lips slightly parted. Your chest heaves heavily, your pulse beating wildly under his palm. Jack brushes your lips together, smiling upon hearing you whimper. 

“Now, throw that lasso again and I’ll give you another kiss.” 

And it all comes down to horse riding. You should be surprised but you’re not. 

The sun was finally setting over the ranch. A subtle chill settling at the base of your snake as the sun went down. It had been a tiring day full of lasso throwing, ax throwing, and knotting. Your back ached and when the final challenge finally befell you all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. The only thing that gave you an ounce of energy was Jack’s proud smile after every challenge that was won. Joel seemed genuinely impressed. And you were genuinely surprised to find yourself acing every task. Seeing how smug Jack got made your heart flutter and stomach draw tight. 

The two of you had done a lot of kissing that day. It hadn’t gone any further but deep down you really wanted it to. 

You feel a deep sense of Deja Vu when you find yourself staring at Honeydust with a saddle in hand. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around the leather. The open air gives you a sense of calm, the cloudy sky a pleasure to gaze upon.

Jack touches the small of your back, goosebumps rising across your skin at the gentle touch, “You got this darlin’ don’t worry so much.” 

You briefly glance at the track Joel and Jack had set up for you. Wooden fences stand tall at various intervals, creating a series of jumps that make you sweat just by thinking about them. Your eyes linger on the strategically placed cones that form a zigzag pattern. 

“Honestly no matter what happens I’m impressed,” Joel cuts in, cupping Honeydust’s cheek. Your gaze moves deftly from the track to the man standing before you. As always, he looks amazing in his red and yellow flannel. “You’ve done well sweetheart.” 

“Maybe you should just forfeit and accept we won then,” you answer, smiling. Joel shakes his head. 

“Someone is sure of herself.” 

“Hell yeah, I am.” 

“Look at that,” Jack pipes. “Soundin’ like a true cowboy already.” 

You expertly secure the saddle onto Honeydust's back. The leather feels cool beneath your fingertips as you tighten the straps, ensuring a snug fit. Adjusting the stirrups, you make sure they're the perfect length for your legs. As you stand beside the horse, you can feel the intensity of Joel and Jack's gazes on you. Their eyes trace the curves of your movements, a subtle tension lingering in the air.

With everything in place, you take a deliberate breath and swing yourself onto the saddle. The leather creaks slightly under your weight as you settle into position. Honeydust shifts beneath you. You catch Joel's gaze, and a sly smirk plays on his lips. His eyes linger a moment longer than necessary, you let out a puff of air, your legs tighten around Honeydust..

"Remember, just go with the flow. You and Honeydust are a team," Jack advises and with that, you head off. 

Gently nudging your heels against the horse's side, you urge Honeydust into a graceful gallop around the track. The steadying thud of her hooves pounding against the dirt creates a harmony that molds with the song of the wind, transporting you to a place of serenity. Each hurdle makes your heart jump with excitement. The jumps seem impossible at times. As you zigzag through the cones, you can feel Honeydust's muscles tense and relax under your hands, transitioning from one step to the next with the gracefulness of a dance—

A sudden jolt disrupts the rhythm, and you find yourself tumbling to the ground. You let out a deep groan as your back hits the earth and with the corner of your eye, you see Joel taking hold of Honeydust’s reins, calming the poor palomino. Jack’s face comes into vision a second later. 

"You okay, darlin'?" When you nod and begin to get up, his worry turns to frustration as he glances at Joel. "This was supposed to be about teaching, not pushing her to the damn limit."

"I didn't mean for her to fall, Jack. So don’t act like that was my intention."

“No, your intention was to make me look like I don’t know what I’m doin’.” 

Jack, eyes still glued on Joel, helps you up. Your head is still spinning a little from the adrenaline rush but other than that you feel fine. Your eyes flitting between both men, your stomach twists and turns at how they’re both glaring at each other. This time is different from the arguments. This time they both genuinely look like they’re about to explode. Joel has his jaw tight while Jack has both hands in tight fists. “Guys. . .” 

"Why you gotta make everythin’ personal?" Joel snaps, ignoring you all together. “It was just meant to be a harmless bet.” 

Jack's eyes narrow, he tears his hand away from yours and your heart drops, "You're the one who makes it damn personal by goadin’ me all the damn time."

“That’s. . .” Joel’s eyes grow soft, his demeanor changing entirely. You watch the furrow between his brows relax, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “I’m—” 

“Can it,” Jack hisses through gritted teeth and raises a hand. “I don’t want your apology, I just wanna go. Unless you think I’m gonna be bad at that too.” 

You reach out, head still spinning, your fingers graze the back of his jacket and he slips from between your grasp. You part your lips to call out to him. To tell him to come back. But Joel takes a hold of your hand and lowers it with the shake of his head. 

“I know where he’s goin’. Let’s go.” 

“Are you telling me he has a brooding spot?” 

“He does.”

The sun had set. The crickets now singing under the starry night, but Joel can't focus on any of it. He can’t because he might’ve actually screwed everything up for good this time— which would be typical of him.  

After months of contemplating whether he should take the next step or not, he’d finally made Jack snap. That had never been Joel’s intention, obviously. But he wasn’t the best at flirting. Never had been. And when Jack came into his life, all fresh faced and a lashing tongue, he couldn’t help but fall for him a little. 

You’re walking just a little bit behind him, trying to keep up. He can feel you staring at him. Your eyes curious like a newborn gazelle’s. 

“If you stare any harder I’m gonna start blushin’ sweetheart.” 

“I’m. . . I wasn’t. . .” 

“Sure you were,” he sighs. “It wasn’t my intention to be hard on him you know. It just. . . sorta happens. I care a lot about him and I just want him to. . . “ He clamps his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say? How he was hoping that all the teasing would finally push Jack into his arms? How he wanted to do more than touch Jack when he knew no one else could see. 

“You want him to. . .  what exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s complicated between us.” 

“You both have a crush on each other and don’t know what to do about it. It’s not that complicated.”

Joel’s mouth opens and closes— then opens again. “And how the hell do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about you a lot,” you answer with a soft smile. “He said he cares about you. And about your opinion.” Joel’s eyes narrow as you rub the back of your head, your eyes dropping to where you would be taking your next step. “I just don't know where I fit in all of this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You and I almost kissed,” you say finger moving between you two. “Jack and I actually kissed. And well. . . I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. It might be a bit sudden but I like you guys, I care about you, and want you guys to be together if that’s what you want.” 

“It’s not your job to worry about us.” Joel huffs, his guilt gnawing at him. “But I get what you mean. We. . . we didn’t intend to put you in that position. I can assure you this wasn’t some twisted game we were tryin' to play. I can't talk for Jack but I care about you. And I care about him if that makes sense. But I fear that me being emotionally constipated might’ve ruined it with him. He gets mad every time I open my mouth.” 

“That’s because you tease him all the time and honestly he’s not doing any better than you.” Joel’s eyes go wide when you suddenly cradle his cheeks and bring his face towards your own. “And you haven't ruined anything Mr. Miller. You just need to tell him exactly what you’ve been telling me.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so.” 

Before he can reach he feels the soft touch of your lips. You kiss him slowly—tenderly. Joel follows your lead, parting his lips, he allows you to slip your tongue inside. He sucks on your tongue, enjoying the way your body presses against his. 

When you pull back, you’re completely dazed.

“Now what was that for?” he asks.

“To keep everything even” you answer, smiling. “Now let's go get our brooding cowboy.” 

It doesn’t take long for that to happen. They find Jack sitting on the ground, his back pressed snugly against the wooden fence. He’s staring at the stars. The gentle light streaming down his face and down his neck, Joel’s heart skips a beat at the sight and he feels as though he can’t breathe. 

Only when they walk closer does he notice the bottle of whiskey. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, Joel’s eyes follow the way drops of amber trickle down his sun-kissed skin. 

All Joel wants to do is lick the bitter drop off of him. 

The two stop before him. Neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. Joel attempts to apologize by parting his lips and that is the exact moment where Jack finally meets his gaze. 

“I know,” he says curtly. “Sit.” Jack extends the bottle of whiskey. Joel, without a word, sits down and takes the bottle. Just as he’s taking a swig, he notices you’re about to leave.  Thankfully Jack stops that from coming to fruition. “And where do you think you’re goin’? Sit your ass over here.” 

Joel almost cackles at how shocked you look. With the tiniest yelp escaping your lips you sit down right next to Jack. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Joel extends you the bottle. You take it and chug it down immediately—Jack snorts and finally Joel feels comfortable enough to laugh alongside him. 

“Calm down darlin’, it ain’t runnin’ away.” 

“Sorry,” you hiccup, shoving the bottle into Jack’s chest. “I’m nervous.” 

“Well, don’t be,” Jack sighs and his head falls back against the fence. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I—” 

“We know,” Joel says with a fond smile. He throws his arm over Jack’s shoulder and cups the back of his head, his hat tumbling to the ground—it was now or never. 

For the first time, Joel brings their faces together without the tease of what he might or might not do. He kisses Jack tenderly, softly. Just like how he wanted to treat him during all those nights they were alone together. Jack digs his fingers into Joel’s shirt, nails nearly biting into the skin. Much to Joel’s surprise, the other man tastes sweet. Their tongues move together, still unsure but eager to explore. 

When Joel opens his eyes ever so slightly, he sees you staring in awe. 

He nearly breaks away laughing. But also, he can’t really blame you for your expression. 

It really does feel magical. 

You hold your breath. Every nerve ending you have is buzzing with want and arousal. The space between your legs pulsing as you watch Joel tilting his head, slipping his tongue through Jack’s eager lips. Deep down you feel like you’re intruding. That this is a tender moment that should just be between the two men but you can’t help but stay there, like a deer in headlights, watching.  

You shudder at the sound of Jack moaning, his hands grip Joel’s shoulder and host himself up the older man’s lap. He grinds down, swallowing Joel’s gasps, he parts away, a trail of saliva connecting the two. You’re still holding your breath. The tips of your fingers numb, your brain a whirlwind as it registers the sight before you. 

“Stupid old man,” Jack rasps, tilting his head to the side. “Gettin’ all sappy.” Then his heavy gaze finds your struck ones. He reaches out and in a dream-like state you take his hand, his fingers hastily close around your wrist and tugs you towards him. Your gasp is caught in your throat when he kisses you. The taste of Joel and whiskey still heavy on his tongue. 

A hand that doesn’t belong to Jack trails up the curve of your ass and squeezes. A choked-out moan drops from your lips only for Jack to shove his tongue between them. He sucks on your tongue and nips at your bottom lip all the while rolling his hips over Joel’s lap. 

“God, look at you two,” Joel groans, giving your ass another firm squeeze before moving his attention to Jack’s spread thighs. “I want to watch you eat that pretty pussy up, Jack. Bet you want that too. . .” 

Joel palms Jack’s cock through the denim, stroking him with a smug smile. Jack parts away from your lips with a whimper. His chest heaves. “Yeah,” he gasps, staring into your eyes, and his hips jerk, chasing the heat of the other’s palm. “Want you to make a mess of me, sugar.”

“Please,” you answer albeit not really needed. Your body falls back to sit on your heels, Joel crashes his lips against the younger cowboy’s, drinking the noises in like a starved man. He rips his flannel open while straightening himself, the momentum of the movement forcing Jack to grip Joel’s shoulders. He slides off of Joel’s lap, the kiss breaking when he directs his full lust-addled attention to you. 

His gaze is enough for you to start struggling with the buttons of your jeans. You kick them off in a rush and before you can take off your shirt Jack is already laying you down upon the soil, the stars above blinking down at you with mischief. Joel sitting close, pulls your head so you’re nestled comfortably above his lap. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your skin gently. It’s a complete contrast compared to how Jack is. He slides your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb resting right above your clit, he stares at your from between your spread-out thighs. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mutters right before delving in. He drags his tongue slowly up your folds while tenderly stroking your clit. Your back arches off of the earth, your eyes fluttering closed as he goes back down, only to kiss you tenderly. He takes his time with you. His jaw moving and tongue teasing your fluttering entrance. Your breath catches in your throat, your chest rattling, Joel shushes you while praising Jack at the same time. 

When your eyes finally open, you find Joel looking down at you. His thumb traces the underline of your bottom lip and moves down until he reaches the hem of your flannel. Flattening his thumb over your stomach, he pushes the fabric up until he exposes you to the sky completely. He cups both your breasts and smooths his fingers over your tingling nipples. 

“So hard already. . . you must really like what he’s doin’ down there huh?” 

Tears stinging the corner of your eyes, you nod. Your silent reply is answered with a sharp bite to the inside of your thigh. Your body jolts, a gasp of pain rattling your throat. Joel smiles. “I think he wants to hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love it,” you moan and as a reward, he pinches your nipples. 

“Good girl.” 

Jack presses his tongue deeper, your body clenching at both the words and the movement. He groans into your cunt, the bridge of his nose brushing your aching clit deliciously as he swirls his tongue. Your stomach coils tight and you push more of yourself into Joel’s palms, your mouth drops wide. You want more. You need more. You want them both to take and take and take—take until you forget your own damn name. 

“Joel. . .” you breathe. He looks down at you curiously. “I want to suck your cock.” 

Jack stops only for a moment before his eyes flutter closed and loses himself in you. Vaguely you can see the way he grinds down, a groan reverberating between your legs. Joel sucks in a breath and exhales from his nose. “You sure?” 

Your answer is ready on your tongue, and as soon as you give it to him, he expertly unbuttons himself. The tip of his cock pushes against your lips and your breath hitches. Precome smears over the soft flesh, your tongue darting out for a taste, you end up tasting from the source instead. Joel’s hips stutter. 

“Holy fuckin’ hell,” his hips jerk a second time, this time thrusting himself deeper into your mouth. You feel him leaning over, a second later you understand he’s reaching for the other man who is working you toward your orgasm. “Jack com’ere—Let me taste her.” 

Jack doesn’t make Joel repeat himself and unwillingly pulls himself away from between your legs. Your tongue swirls around Joel’s cock as Jack kisses him deeply. He licks himself deep into the older man’s mouth, stealing a moan deep within Joel’s chest. While Jack steals the breath from Joel’s lungs, he pushes two fingers into you with ease. Your eyes rolling, you take more of Joel into your mouth, prompting the other to instinctively thrust deep enough to make you choke around him. 

He parts from Jack with a gasp, “Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart, choke on it.” he says through gritted teeth. Both men look down at you with dark eyes, the shadows caused by the moonlight caress their backs, deepening every crease of their faces. You shudder. 

You’re surprised to see Jack dipping down, lower from where you’re sucking Joel’s cock, he sucks the tender skin of the base, and the sound that Joel makes almost feels inhumane. 

But Jack doesn’t linger. He pulls away from both of you, his torso tall between your legs, he strokes himself at the sight of your mouth full of the man he admires. 

“You like having your mouth full, darlin’? Such a dirty girl allowing two men to have you like this out in the open.” 

You whimper and nod, eyes flooding with tears as Joel shoves himself deeper. Spit and precome trickle down from where his cock stretches your lips. 

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Jack says giving himself a firm squeeze before swiping his palm over the head of his cock. With his other hand, he follows the contour of your leg, reaches all the way to your hip. “You’re ‘bout to feel much fuller.” 

He shoves himself inside you with a single thrust; your channel tightens around him, a moan escaping your throat. Your mouth is pulled away from Joel briefly, gasping for air, before he pulls you back. He adjusts his hips and slides back into your mouth, kneading the back of your neck.

“You feel that? How hot and wet you are? Both of us stretching you?” Jack's voice is gruff as he thrusts into you; your eyes close as pleasure radiates through your body, your skin left tingling. You can hear Joel moan and pant in the background, his cock throbs above your tongue and you hollow out your cheeks.

Your eyes flutter as Jack's cock glides in and out of you; his plunges getting deeper with every thrust. You feel overwhelmed by both of them. You’re left breathless and spinning. You feel only them and nothing else. 

You grip onto Joel to keep yourself teetered to the moment as Jack's movements become more desperate, Joel matching him thrust for thrust. With each gasp, Joel's cock slides further down your throat. 

The tightness inside your body grows; waves of pleasure cascade through you. The pressure builds and builds and builds—You’re so close you can taste it. Jack presses a palm over your mound, adding pressure as he draws quick and tight circles around your clit. Your throat convulses around Joel’s cock and he pulls out, his length resting comfortably above your lips. You breathe heavily against him, his cock slick and warm on your skin. 

“Atta girl,” he coos. “Just a bit more. . . Show us how pretty you look when you come.” 

You feel the pressure between your legs mounting with each hard thrust from Jack, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. Joel encourages Jack to go faster, and with each plunge you feel the tension in your core build higher and higher. 

And finally the coil snaps. 

Your whole body trembles and shakes. Your orgasm still rolling over your body like a violent wave. Jack pumps his hips into yours as he digs his hands into your hips. He keeps thrusting relentlessly, pushing himself as far in as he can before he pulls out. His jaw goes slack, cock gliding over your mound, he spills over your skin. You shudder at the trickle of his seed. 

Joel’s cock slides across your lips, teasing you. Your tongue darts out and quickly wraps around him, you tilt your head to take in all of his length. You push your mouth onto him, bobbing your head up and down until he groans. His hips buck erratically and at the same time you feel the touch of Jack’s mouth against the side of your neck. 

You swallow everything that he offers you, savoring every moment of the taste of him. You stay close to him until his breathing returns to normal, his thighs shaking underneath you as he pulls out. 

“Holy shit,” Jack chokes out as he collapses on top of you, head right above your chest. Joel wipes the sole tear that had escaped you eye and smiles. You bring his palm to your lips and kiss the rough skin. 

“It’s going to be hard walking away from all of this,” you whisper, shuddering when Jack’s mouth moves against the side of your breasts. 

“Who says you have to walk away?” 

You don’t have it in you to go into the details of your life and how you have to go. Or entertain the idea that maybe the things that you thought were important aren’t as essential that you thought after all. It’s pure chaos and right now all you want is to feel their warmth against your bare skin under the stars. 

For now, you are content and feeling grateful for the two amazing men who coincidentally made themselves an inseparable part of your life.  

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: short.

Caitlin Foord x Reader:

Title: Against The Odds

MasterList

The community center buzzed with the energy of volunteers preparing for the upcoming charity football event. Y/N moved with quiet efficiency, juggling tasks that ranged from directing setup crews to arranging stacks of flyers. She had little interest in the spotlight. She thrived in the background, ensuring that things ran smoothly while others took the credit.

It was a quiet life in a quiet town, and that suited her just fine.

But her routine was about to be disrupted in ways she couldn’t have imagined.

The arrival of Caitlin Foord changed the atmosphere instantly.

As the celebrated footballer stepped through the doors of the community center, the room seemed to brighten. Caitlin was magnetic, her confident stride and easy smile drawing every gaze. Wearing her Matildas jersey and her trademark charm, she exuded the kind of effortless charisma that made people gravitate toward her.

Everyone, that is, except Y/N.

Caitlin approached her table, where Y/N stood surrounded by stacks of flyers and a clipboard in hand. “Hey, you’re the coordinator, right?” Caitlin asked, her Australian accent as smooth as her smile.

Y/N barely glanced up. “Yes. I’m managing logistics.” She handed Caitlin a pile of flyers without preamble. “Can you distribute these to the tables by the entrance?”

Caitlin blinked. She wasn’t used to such brusque treatment. Most people fawned over her or at least gave her a moment of recognition. This woman acted like she was just another volunteer.

“Sure,” Caitlin said, recovering quickly. “Happy to help.”

As Caitlin moved off, she couldn’t resist looking back. Who was this woman, and why was she so… unaffected?

Later that evening, the weather took a sudden turn for the worse. Thunder growled in the distance, and a torrential downpour turned the streets into rivers. Caitlin had planned to head back to her hotel in the city, but the storm had other ideas.

“You’re not driving in this,” Y/N said firmly when Caitlin mentioned leaving.

“Got a better idea?” Caitlin challenged, though she already knew the answer.

Y/N sighed. “There’s a spare room at my place. It’s not fancy, but it’s dry.”

“Guess I’ll take you up on that.”

Y/N’s home was modest but cozy, filled with well-loved furniture and a lingering scent of fresh coffee. Caitlin looked around, intrigued by the glimpse into her host’s life.

“You’re not a fan of small talk, are you?” Caitlin teased as Y/N handed her a blanket for the guest bed.

“Not particularly,” Y/N replied, her lips twitching into the faintest smile.

Despite the rocky start, the storm forced them into an unexpected companionship. Over cups of tea and the soft rhythm of rain on the roof, Caitlin shared stories of her life as a professional athlete—the highs, the lows, and the constant pressure.

Y/N listened intently, her quiet presence a comfort Caitlin hadn’t known she needed.

The following day, the storm showed no signs of relenting. Trapped indoors, Caitlin found herself drawn to Y/N’s quiet strength. The two spent hours talking—about the charity event, their favorite books, and their vastly different lives.

“I don’t get it,” Caitlin said at one point, her voice thoughtful. “You’re smart, organized, obviously passionate. Why keep such a low profile?”

Y/N hesitated, then shrugged. “I like helping from behind the scenes. The spotlight… it’s not for me.”

Caitlin studied her, seeing for the first time the vulnerability beneath the surface. “You don’t have to be in the spotlight to shine, you know.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment.

The next day, the roads finally cleared, and Caitlin returned to the city for the charity match. Y/N thought that would be the end of their brief connection.

But then someone posted a picture online—a candid shot of Caitlin and Y/N together at the community center. Within hours, the image was trending, with tabloids speculating about Caitlin’s “mystery companion.”

Y/N was horrified.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” she told Caitlin over the phone, her voice trembling with anger and fear. “I don’t want to be part of your world.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Caitlin replied, her tone pleading. “But you are part of my world now, whether you like it or not.”

Caitlin drove back to Y/N’s town that same night, determined to fix things. She found Y/N at the community center, stacking chairs in a futile attempt to burn off her frustration.

“Hey,” Caitlin said softly, stepping into the room.

Y/N looked up, her expression guarded.

“I get it,” Caitlin continued. “You didn’t ask for any of this. But I’m not here because of the headlines or the attention. I’m here because I like you. The real you.���

Y/N’s eyes softened, but she remained silent.

Caitlin took a step closer. “I know my life is messy. I can’t promise it’ll ever be easy. But I’m willing to fight for this—for us—if you are.”

For a long moment, the only sound was the rain tapping against the windows. Then Y/N nodded.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s try.”

The days that followed weren’t easy. Y/N struggled with the attention, while Caitlin juggled her demanding career with her desire to protect their budding relationship. But through it all, they leaned on each other, learning to navigate the challenges together.

At a post-match press conference weeks later, Caitlin surprised everyone by dedicating her performance to “the unsung heroes who keep the world running—like the ones at our community centers.”

Y/N watched from the sidelines, her heart swelling with pride.

As Caitlin stepped off the stage, she found Y/N waiting for her, a rare smile lighting up her face.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Y/N said softly.

Caitlin grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Only because I’ve got you.”

And for the first time, Y/N didn’t mind being in the spotlight—because with Caitlin by her side, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

[incorrectbatfam]

Retail Steph is my new favorite character. can we have her with the JL or other heroes?

Part 1 with Margie

Part 2 with the batfam

Part 3 with the Rogues

[at the grocery store]

Steph, holding a tray of cheese cubes: Would you like a free sample of our sharp cheddar?

Barry: Sure.

Barry: *takes a sample*

Barry: Can I have another?

Steph: Yeah, go ahead.

Barry: *takes another*

Barry: *takes another*

Barry: *takes another*

Steph: *stands there as he devours the whole tray*

———————

[at the coffee shop]

Diana: One oolong tea, please.

Steph: What size?

Diana: Do you have something larger than a venti?

Steph, showing her a cup: There's the trenta.

Diana: Larger. Something godly.

Steph: We have a gallon for catering.

Diana, disappointed: Hm... I suppose that will have to do.

———————

[at the clothing store]

Steph: That'll be $253.75.

Zatanna: Wait, let me show you a magic trick. I'm going to make these prices... disappear!

Zatanna: *pulls a bunch of coupons out of her sleeve*

Steph: *sighs and starts scanning*

*minus $5.00*

*minus $10.00*

*minus $15.00*

*buy 1 get 1*

*10% off*

*25% off*

*member discount*

*frequent flyer discount*

*Justice League discount*

*holiday sale*

*bonus points*

Steph: Congrats, the store owes you twelve dollars.

———————

[at the drive-thru]

Steph: Welcome to Batburger, what can I get you?

Bruce, as Batman: *grunts*

Steph: Would you like fries with that?

Bruce: *grunts*

Steph: And would you like those fries Jokerized?

Bruce: *grunts*

Steph: Jeez okay, struck a nerve there. Your total is $10.38. Please pull up to the next window.

———————

[at the furniture store]

Steph: For the last time, your fishiness, that's not what the warranty means by "acts of God."

Arthur: I am a god and it was my act. Now I would appreciate if you refunded my spinny chair.

———————

[at the restaurant]

Steph: Are we ready to order?

Lois: Yes. I'll do the bolognese, please.

Steph: Excellent. And you, sir?

Clark: Hold in, the salmon looks good too. In fact, I completely missed the entire seafood section. Can I do a salmon with—

Clark: Wait, I've read those mercury poisoning studies. How about the shrimp carbonara—

Clark: Actually, I like linguine better. Let's do the shrimp linguine—

Clark: Wait... the ravioli sounds good too.

Clark: And so does the gnocchi.

Steph: Would you like a few more minutes?

Clark, sheepishly: Yes, please.

Lois: *glares at him*

———————

[at the call center]

Steph: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you?

*crackles*

Steph: I need you to speak up.

J'onn, through the static: I want— *crackle* —added.

Steph: Sir, you seem to be breaking up.

J'onn: Sorry— *crackle* —on Mars.

Steph: *facepalms*

———————

[at the Watchtower]

Oliver, whispering: What's up with Spoiler?

Hal: *glances at Steph*

Steph: *silently seething*

Hal, shrugging: It's probably a bat thing.

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 8

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

A/N: this is not the last part I promise

Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive

        "Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it. 

        "You were in charge of it." You pointed out.

        "Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."

        "Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."       

        "Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.

        "I was distracted." You defended.

        "With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.

        "Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.

        It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.

        On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'

        "Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.

        "C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."

----

        It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.

        "Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him. 

        "Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.

        So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection.  Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.

        There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water. 

        While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.

        "All yours." You told him.

        "Nah." He shrugged.

        "Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.

        "Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.

        "And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.

        You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.

        "It's not even dark yet." You commented.

        "Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.

        "Guess so." You agreed.

        "Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.

        "And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass. 

        "'S that what ya call it?"

        "Yup. What else would it be?"

        "Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.

        "Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."

        He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.

        "What game?"

        "Twenty questions."

        "Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."

        "Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"

        "They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"

        "I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"

        "Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"

        "Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"

        That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.

        "Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

        You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.

        "No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."

        Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.

        "Your turn." You reminded him.

        "Oh. Are you?"

        "Am I..?"

        "Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.

        "No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me,  but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.

        "Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.

        "Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.

        "Who's the guy?" He asked.

        "Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby. 

        "Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.

        Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?

        "You okay?" He asked.

        "Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--

        "(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts. 

        "Hmm?"

        "You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.

        "Yeah?"

        "It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?" 

        He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.

        "You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.

        "Right." He nodded.

        Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.

        "I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.

        You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.

        You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.

        "Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?

        "Sorry, I--"

        "Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked. 

        When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.

        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

        His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more. 

        He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.

        Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.

A/N: next part will be spicy ;)

Masterlist || Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader

((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))

[heavy-machinery-studio-feed]

[imtryingbuck]

Forty Five

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 1,483

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. fluff. swearing. Domestic abuse mentioned. This one is short, im sorry.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

‘Grace and Bunny’s Haven’

Each letter engraved in the bricks bold and proud on the administration building. Behind it stood the housing unit which looked more like a manor than anything. There was large fence that sounded the whole property, the gate opening for safety to those who needed it, right where her former home use to sit.

True to his word Bucky let Y/n bulldoze the remains of the house she spent her early childhood being tortured in. Surprisingly it was very therapeutic for her. The massive smile on her face when the remains went down made Bucky’s heart tingle.

In five years the woodland that once was a sanctuary for Y/n had been transformed into a sanctuary for women in need.

The manor had twenty bedrooms with the same amount of bathrooms, at the time of opening there was only ten available rooms as the rest were still being done up. A large and spacious kitchen, two large living rooms, a huge dining hall, a kids play room that had already been filled with books and toys that were either donated or brought new. There was a day room at the back that had a skylight, it was beautiful in the summer. Two rooms on the lower floor was to be used as counselling rooms Y/n had already hired councillors and actually let them have their say on how the rooms were decorated.

On the grounds there was a park for children with slides, swings, seesaws and other fun little things for children. Sam just had to go on the slides and swings to make sure they worked, so he said. On the other side there was a green house, it was something that her mama always said she wished she had.

Owners of furniture stores were kind enough to donate furniture for each of the rooms, people went through their homes finding things that could be donated when word got out about Grace and Bunny’s Haven, a lot of children things ranging from clothes, shoes, books and toys were mainly donated. A couple came with a moving van and gave Y/n cots for babies, pushchairs, highchairs and many other different things for babies, they explained that they use to run a day-care out of their home, they retried two years prior they no longer needed them. Y/n could have cried as she hugged them and thanked them.

The finishing touches were being done when a woman no older than twenty five showed up seeking safety with her two three year old twins. Charlotte became the first person to be under their protection.

The doors opened two days after Y/n’s forty fifth birthday and already five rooms were being used. Charlotte and her twins taking up one room seeking safety from her abusive ex boyfriend, Maryanne was in her mid-thirties and had a son who was seven years old. Carla had five children with her when she showed up covered in bruises, she and her youngest had a room together whilst the other four had the room next to hers. Robin was the youngest out of the women at nineteen, when Y/n heard her story it broke her heart, poor girl had gotten pregnant when she was seventeen two months before she gave birth her boyfriend had been killed in a car crash, hers and his family had turned their backs on her and the baby for over a year she bounced from one place to the next with her daughter until she found a flyer at the hotel she managed to save enough money to stay at for a few nights. The next day she showed up asking for help.

All of the children got along with each other, unknown to them they had actually broke the ice between their moms as none of them knew what to say to the other. Now the four women were friends and helped each other out when needed.

“I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?” Bucky asked after handing Steve another box of things that had been donated.

“I couldn’t have done it without you Ducky”

“I didn’t do anything my love”

“You brought the land, got everything ready-slow down Luca or you’ll trip-” Luca was the second oldest of Carla’s, he was running past the administration building to go and play on the park with the other children.

“But you’re the one giving these women hope and safety, not me I’m just doing all the heavy lifting”

“Heavy lifting? Buck you keep picking up boxes full of clothes” Steve shouted from the storage room.

“Fuck off. Do you need me to do anything Bun?”

“Nope, actually you could help Steve we got a rather large donation in last night so”

“I can do that, gimme a kiss first”

Kissing Bucky before he went over the storage room, Y/n stood at the front desk with a smile on her face. Proud of how everything turned out, proud of the fact that she could help women who needed it. Every time the moms saw her they thanked her, every time, even though she told them that they didn’t need to thank her at all, they still did.

Wanda had come and brought the twins along with Y/n’s and Bucky’s children who were all currently playing tag with the other children, their laughs brought a smile to her face. When the gates came open and a police car drove up to the administration building, this wasn’t new as Maryanne and her son was brought to her in a police car, what was new though was that instead of a woman sitting in the back it was a man.

“Morning Mrs Barnes” Officer Jones greeted as he got out of the driver seat.

“Morning, who is he?”

“He needs safety and yes I know this is a place for women but he needs help, no one else is willing to take him in”

“Oh. Right well let’s get him in so I can interview him” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed when he saw his wife walking in front of a man and two little kids and Officer Jones, he gave Y/n a questioning look that she just waved off.

Y/n offered a seat to the man and told the two young children play with the toys that were in the room whilst Officer Jones stood at the door. “Hi I’m Y/n, your name is?”

“Henry. Look I understand if you can’t take me in just say no so I can fin-“

“Who said I can’t take you in?”

“I’m a man”

“And? Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean anything. How about you give me the rundown of why you are looking for help and-“

“So you can judge me?”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Because I’m a man, a man that would get beat the shit out of him by his wife. The mother of his two kids, been put in hospital more times than I can recall, never once laid a hand on her. Never. I’m a man who’s now seeking help at a place that was made just for women, bet you think I’m weak don’t you?”

“You’re not weak because you married an abuser Henry. You’re not weak for coming here asking for help. You’re not weak at all so please do not think that about yourself”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I-I-I didn’t mean to snap. I promise”

“It’s okay, Henry look at me, it’s okay I promise. How about you tell me about your babies, yeah?”

“My oldest is Robbie he’s five, youngest is Lucy she’s two”

“Five and two, how old are you?”

“Thirty three ma’am.”

“Have you filled for divorce?”

“Yes but she refuses to sign them”

“Okay, can you write down any allergies you and the kids have and any medication you or they need please?”

“W-what?”

“Allergies and medication…”

“No I understand that b-but are you really letting us stay here?”

“Of course I am, Grace and Bunny’s Haven is a safe place for everyone who’s victim of domestic abuse. A room is already set up for you, I’ll give you the tour when you are ready”

“Tha-thank you, thank you so much”

After giving Henry and his children a tour, she introduced him to the women who was understandably nervous but they trusted Y/n’s judgement, they knew that she wouldn’t bring a man into their sanctuary if he wasn’t trustworthy or had gone through what they had gone through themselves.

Getting home that night Y/n had a hot shower whilst Bucky got the children into bed, she was proud of what she had created and though she had some understanding of what these women and man was and had gone through it didn’t stop her from getting emotional thinking about the pain they went through.

Bucky held her tight that night as they slept.

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[golbrocklovely]

a witching hour // sam golbach

A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!

prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach

trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly

word count: 3381

I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.

It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.

I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.

My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.

I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.

I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.

Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?

I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.

I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.

Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.

Who the hell would dye their cat pink?

I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.

The place was completely trashed.

Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.

"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.

"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.

I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"

"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.

"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.

"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.

"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."

"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.

Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?

"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.

"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."

"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.

I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"

"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.

"Who are you?" Alice questioned.

"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."

"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.

"We have?" They replied.

I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."

"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.

"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.

"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.

My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."

"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.

"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"

"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.

"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"

"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.

"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.

"With swords." Alice said plainly.

"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.

"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.

"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.

Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."

Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.

I can only imagine how expense that wig was.

Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"

"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.

I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."

"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.

"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"

"Yes?" She asked.

I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.

Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.

"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.

"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.

I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.

Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.

I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.

A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.

"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.

I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.

"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.

"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.

He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."

"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.

"I guess so." Sam chuckled.

I questioned, "How long will this last?"

"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."

"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.

I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."

He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."

"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.

"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Probably." I teased.

Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."

“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.

"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"

He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"

"No, what?" I jeered slightly.

"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"

"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.

"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.

He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."

"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.

He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"

"What?" I turned and looked at him.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."

The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."

"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.

"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.

"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."

The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"

"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.

I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."

"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.

I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."

"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."

"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."

"Only if you want me to...." He teased.

"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."

"Get closer to me." He ordered.

My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.

"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"

"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.

"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."

I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."

I exhaled, "Wha-?"

Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.

Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."

"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.

He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.

"S-Sam." I choked.

My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.

I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.

And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"

My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.

"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.

"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.

"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.

I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"

He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"

"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."

"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.

I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."

"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.

"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.

Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."

I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.

So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.

I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!

I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.

"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.

A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"

I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"

"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.

I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"

"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.

"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.

I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."

"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"

"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."

I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.

[mintspice]

Paws and Effect (Chifuyu x Reader)

Prompt: You have a crush on your neighbor, who also happens to be your classmate in college. Your cat ends up unintentionally being your wingman with your crush.

Had to write for my special guy. Chifuyu and Mikey have been heavy on the brain lately. Based on a time when my cat got out lol and set in a modern AU. Hope you guys like this one, I tried my best to learn how to get him in character. Chifuyu deserves more love

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The frantic thump of your heart echoed in your quiet apartment. Cleo, your blue-eyed Siamese, was gone. She’d been missing for almost an hour, and worry gnawed at your insides. 

“Cleo, where are you, baby?” You called, your voice cracking with anxiety. You’d checked every nook and cranny, under furniture, in closets, even peeking inside kitchen pantries, just in case. Cleo was a curious cat but never went outside and was usually under the bed. This was unsettling.

Desperate, you paced around the living room, eyes scanning every inch of the space. There was only one place you hadn’t checked yet: the window. 

You pulled the curtains apart to see that she had opened the window. You had left it cracked open earlier to let some fresh air in, but she must have gotten too curious and pushed her head through the crack to get out. You sighed and closed the window before exiting your apartment to look for Cleo.

You called for Cleo, hoping she would hear your voice. 

Nothing.

Where could she be?

You continued searching the bushes and underneath cars, the feeling of anxiety gnawing at your insides. She couldn’t have gotten that far but never went outside, so she may have been scared and hiding.

You searched for the entire afternoon but with no results. You sighed with sadness and walked back upstairs to your apartment so you could make flyers, post them around town, and post about her on social media in the missing pet groups.

Entering your apartment, you sat down on the couch. It was empty without her presence inside. She was usually zooming back and forth, climbing on the kitchen counter, or cuddling up on your lap as you worked on college assignments or watched TV.

A knock interrupted your thoughts as you started creating your post about her. You stood up to answer the door.

It was your attractive neighbor, Chifuyu Matsuno, whose apartment was across from yours and was your statistics classmate at the local college campus. He was holding Cleo and wearing a white sweater and dark pants. 

“Looking for Cleo?” He asked, his green eyes staring into yours. “I saw the apartment number on her collar,”

A rush of relief washed over you as Cleo sat comfortably in his arms. You had completely forgotten that she really likes men. Whenever your male friends would come over to visit, she was all over them. 

“Cleo, you little brat,” You said with a mixture of relief and annoyance as Chifuyu handed the blue-eyed, adventurous feline back to you. “I’ve been looking for you all morning!”

“She got inside my apartment and was playing with my cat, Peke J,” Chifuyu said with a slight chuckle. “I was quite surprised to see a random cat inside my living room when I woke up,”

“I’m so sorry,” You apologized, putting Cleo back inside your apartment, “I hope she didn’t cause any trouble for you,”

“Not at all,” Chifuyu replied with a warm smile. “She was a very welcome guest. She and Peke J seemed to hit it off quite well,”

“Well, maybe Peke J and Cleo can become playmates then,” You suggested. “She gets a little bored by herself here sometimes,”

Chifuyu’s lips curved into a warm smile. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Peke J would love to have a companion,”

As you closed the door behind you to prevent Cleo from escaping again, your gaze lingered on Chifuyu, and you felt a surge of attraction toward him. His calm demeanor, quiet confidence, and pine-green eyes captivated you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on your classmate and neighbor. 

You and Chifuyu talked for a while longer, discussing your studies and your interests. You were impressed by his thoughtful insights and genuine desire to listen and could tell how much he loved Peke J. He gave you his number in case you two need to discuss upcoming assignments. You said your goodbyes to him for the evening, a newfound connection sparking between you two. 

In the following weeks, you and Chifuyu began spending more and more time together outside of class. You would often study together inside your apartment or his apartment, talking about everything from your dreams to your pet peeves. You discovered that he worked at a local pet store and how he fell from the second story of your apartment complex chasing after Peke J, which you couldn’t help but laugh at.

One evening, as you returned home from a tiring shift at work, you walked toward your apartment building, feeling the cool evening air on your skin. You recognized Chifuyu’s choppy, blonde undercut and his signature white sweater in the distance. He was sitting on the benches in the common area of your apartment complex. You then recognized a small ball of white fluff sitting on the bench beside him. It was Cleo, and somehow, she had managed to escape again while ou were at work. 

“Your cat escaped again,” He said, noticing your presence. 

Cleo happily circled around his hand as he petted her, purring loudly. 

“Again, Cleo?” You shook your head, smiling with amusement, lacing your words. “She really has a thing for you,”

Cleo, as if to confirm your statement, rubbed her head against Chifuyu’s hand, a contented purr rumbling in her tiny chest. You reached down to pick up your mischievous feline, your fingers brushing against his. A spark, more potent than any static electricity, surged through you, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. 

“She’s a friendly cat,” Chifuyu replied, his gaze lingering on you and cheeks flushing a soft pink color. 

The air between you, thick with something undefined, almost made it difficult to breathe. You felt a warmth spread through you. Maybe it was how his pine-green eyes seemed to hold a gentle, almost hesitant understanding. Or maybe it was the soft smile that played on his lips, a smile that made your heart flutter with a strange, delightful nervousness. 

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you were a goner. He was too close, and the scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of sandalwood and something sweet, was intoxicating. You and Chifuyu stood momentarily, your gazes locked, the air crackling with unspoken feelings. 

“May I?” He asked his voice husky with emotion. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you nodded, unable to form words.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle caress. The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of promise. It felt like a whispered secret, a shared understanding beyond words. You tasted mint and something else, a touch of something spicy. 

When you finally pulled away, the air between you and Chifuyu crackled with electricity. His cheeks flushed, and you felt a strange warmth bloom in your chest. 

“You know, your cat is quite the matchmaker,” Chifuyu said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes sparkling with a newfound mischief.

You laughed, agreeing with him. If it weren’t for Cleo’s constant escapes, you wouldn’t have had the courage to converse with Chifuyu. Cleo had brought you closer to him, and you couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.