#it's fucking cold even inside and this sweatshirt is keeping me warm so! :)

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Self-indulgent gifts to myself this month (Pokemon Violet not pictured, lol): L7 bracelet made by the excellent Alexa, and the hat with the Hooty patch that I sewed on – both of which have made me so happy and so excited to wear things that I don't usually wear: bracelets and hats! I'M COMMITTED NOW! And I'm happy about it! :')

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 18: I Fucking Heard You

You and Joel adjust to life apart. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 17, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 8.3k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

January, 2008 

He was going to actually do it this time. 

Joel was sitting outside your apartment building, drumming against the steering wheel of his truck, desperate to work out some of the anxious energy that kept building and building inside of him. 

But he just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he was done trying to pretend like he didn’t love you. He was going to say it. 

Actually say it. 

For real this time. 

He’d ignored it as long as he could manage, shoved it down and tried to kill it by going out with practically every girl in school for even longer. He didn’t want to ruin things between the two of you, he was terrified of that more than he was of just about anything else. You mattered more to him than anyone, he couldn’t lose you, especially not to his own stupidity. But he couldn’t keep how he felt separate from your friendship, either. He loved you so much he felt like he was choking on it, like it had to go somewhere outside of himself or he was going to lose his damn mind with it. 

So he’d finally worked up the courage to tell you. Rip the bandaid off. Maybe it wouldn’t blow up in his face, maybe… maybe you’d tell him you felt the same way. Maybe you’d grab him and kiss him the way he pretended you would when he thought about you when he was alone. Maybe you’d tell him you changed your mind about going across the country, maybe you’d go to college here in Austin and you’d move in together and he’d get to be next to you all the time. 

This, he decided, was the perfect night for it. There was a meteor shower he’d heard about on the news and he talked you into going to the park to watch it. It seemed right, telling you this with the whole galaxy stretched out in front of you. Things were changing tonight. He could feel it. 

He watched as you more fell than climbed out of your window, landing in the bushes and clumsily pulling yourself free of them before dashing to his truck. 

“What are you wearin’ Goldie Girl?” He teased as you got in, the collar of a second sweatshirt visible below your hoodie, the sleeves unusually bulky. 

“What!” You asked, brows raised. “It’s January! It’s cold! And… I couldn’t risk waking up my mom by going to the coat closet for my jacket.��� 

Joel snorted. 

“I’m counting on you to keep me warm out there, Miller,” you said, buckling up as Joel started driving, his heart beating out a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “This whole thing was your idea.” 

“I got blankets,” he said. “Not gonna let you freeze.” 

As he drove, the two of you caught up on everything that had happened in the few hours it had been since you’d last seen him - no time at all, really, but it always dragged for Joel. It seemed like he was always just marking time until he got to see you again. He was almost always with you until curfew. Then, awake for an hour, sleep for eight, wake up and then just an hour before he was at your door again, picking you up to take you to school. Then it was three and a half hours until lunch - which you always had with him - then just an hour until your single shared class - newspaper, which he’d joined to make you happy - and then two hours until school was done and he was with you again.

You told Joel about Anna’s issues in school and Joel told you about his mom’s frustrations with his own grades. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled a little as you scolded him and told him you’d help him study, he just had to actually do it and he smiled and nodded along because he knew that. You were always trying to bring out the best in him. You were the only one who could.

“Oh, and, there’s the one really big thing,” you said as Joel parked his truck. 

“I got a big thing, too,” he said. Your eyes lit up at that, always ready to be excited for him. “Yours first.” 

“OK. So, you know Steve?” You asked, brows raised.

“Steve,” Joel frowned, trying to picture someone the both of you knew named Steve. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you said. “You know, Steve…” 

“You can keep saying his name all you want, I still don’t know who you mean,” he laughed. 

“Steve,” you said again, incredulous. “The yearbook editor, Steve.” 

“Oh!” He said, picturing the guy now. “Yeah, OK, Steve. Right. What about him?” 

“Well,” you said sitting up a little straighter. “He asked me out.” 

Joel just stared at you for a moment, blinking in shock. His stomach sank. He had the strange feeling that he was falling from some great height, not unlike what he felt when riding a roller coaster with you except there was no safety harness to keep him from tumbling to the earth. 

“What?” He said eventually. 

“Steve asked me out,” you said, chin up like you were proud. “I actually have a date, I’m not just hanging out with you for a change!” 

“You said yes?” He asked, his mouth dry. 

“Yeah, of course I did! We’re going to go to the movies,” you said, beaming, before you realized that Joel apparently wasn’t reacting the way you expected. You cocked your head, frowning. “Why, should I not have? Is there something wrong with him?” 

“No,” he said quickly. “No, sure he’s fine, I just… didn’t know you liked ‘im is all.” 

“I mean,” you shrugged. “He’s not bad looking and he’s funny and he’s smart and he writes… We have a lot in common. What’s not to like?”

Of course. Of course you’d go for someone more like you, someone who was smart like you and didn’t fucking struggle in school like he did, someone who wrote like you instead of just fucked around with their entire life like he did. Why on Earth would you be interested in him? Why on Earth would you waste your fucking time on someone like him when you were so clearly meant for so much better? Not that Steve was fucking good enough for you. No one was, Joel included. 

“Right,” he said. He thought he might throw up. 

“What?” You said, laughing awkwardly. “Are you OK? You look weird…” 

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Just… You know. Be careful, guys can be assholes.” 

“Yeah, you’d know,” you teased. 

“No, I mean it,” Joel said. “Sure he seems like a decent guy but…” 

“But?” You asked, brows raised. 

“He don’t deserve you,” he said. 

You smiled then, gently, reaching out and putting your hand on his thigh and giving his leg a squeeze. 

“You’re sweet,” you said. “And you’re worried about nothing. It’s high school. It’s a date. It’s not like we’re getting married. Oh, maybe we could all go out together sometime! Once you pick the new flavor of the week, I mean. I’ll actually have someone to go with now.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said, forcing himself to smile. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

He gathered up the blankets and set them out in the bed of his truck and he helped pull you into it, settling in just as the meteor shower started overhead. You pressed yourself close to him and he could feel the heat of your breath on his skin and fuck he wished it could have been him you said yes to. 

“Oh, what was your thing?” You asked, looking up at him from where your head was nestled against his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to derail the conversation…” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel said, scrambling for something - anything - to say. “Tommy… decided to take after his big brother and go out for football next year.” 

“Nice!” You said, looking back at the sky again. “You’re going to put him through his paces before, right? Teach him how to take a hit?” 

Joel scoffed. 

“Course,” he said. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t.” 

The two of you watched stars streak across the sky for hours. Joel set an alarm on his phone because he knew you’d sleep through one on yours and you snuggled close to him under the blankets. 

“You were right,” you said, voice sleepy. “This is really cool. Thanks for talking me into it.” 

“Course,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss you. “I’d do anything for you… Love you, Goldie.” 

You smiled against him. 

“Love you, too,” you said. 

He held you close and wondered what it would be like if you meant it the same way he did.  

***

September, 2023

“Aunt Goldie?” 

You looked up from painting Sarah’s toenails to see her watching you, her head cocked and a serious expression on her face, one that was partially obscured by the facial mask you’d applied before you’d started in on her nails during your at home spa day. 

“Niece Sarah?”

“Why are you and my dad still in a fight?” She asked. 

You just blinked for a moment, taking a moment to process her question. It caught you off guard - not that it should have. Things had been very different since her birthday party months earlier and Sarah was a smart kid. It made sense that she would notice. You just hadn’t prepared an answer - something that felt like a massive oversight now that it was in front of you. 

“What makes you think that we’re in a fight?” You said eventually, putting the brush back in the jar of polish before you dripped on the floor. 

“You never come over anymore,” she said. 

“Well, I live back at my own house now,” you said, starting in on her toes again. 

“Duh,” Sarah said and you could practically hear her eyes roll. “But even before you and Ellie lived with us you came over all the time and you don’t anymore. And my dad never comes here with me, he always just drops me off.” 

“We both have a lot going on,” you said, happy you had an excuse to not be looking her in the eye. “It’s not…” 

“I’m not stupid, you know,” she said and you looked up then, her gaze serious as she watched you closely. “I know something happened.” 

You finished her pinky toe and closed the nail polish with a sigh. 

“Sarah…” 

“My dad’s been acting different,” she cut you off, a little heated, and you frowned. 

“Different?” You asked. “Different how?” 

“He’s just…” she sighed. “I think he’s sad. He tries to pretend like he’s not and that everything’s normal but I know him and I can tell. I don’t know what happened but I think it’s stupid that you guys just aren’t talking or whatever right now. I wish you’d just figure it out.” 

You looked at Sarah, at her wide and hopeful eyes, and tried to figure out how to explain this to her.

How did you tell her that you weren’t sure how to move past how her father - the person you loved most in the world - apparently saw you? That you needed space from him because you couldn’t let yourself revolve around him anymore? That it wasn’t good for you to have your life so intertwined with someone who would, inevitably, go on to have a life outside of you?

It had been a strange two months, not seeing and even really speaking to Joel. 

The first day was strange. It was just you and Ellie and your cat in your house that had done nothing beyond collect dust in the months since your niece was born. 

Being there, alone, with Ellie made you nervous and you were sure she could sense it in you somehow, like she knew you were unworthy and letting her down by taking her away from the one fully competent person in her life because you were too selfish and couldn’t move past your own shit. 

To make matters worse, your mind kept going back to Joel and the strange life the two of you had made together in the months you’d lived with him. He’d become built into everything, the rhythm of your life out of sync without him and Sarah there, too. You missed both of them so much it hurt but it was especially painful with Joel. You missed the way the two of you would navigate around each other in the kitchen in the morning, his hand so often finding your hip or the small of your back when he needed to reach around you or move past you. The way you could hold your toothbrush out and he would put the right amount of toothpaste on it before going to bed at the end of the day. The way he would just open your beer for you when he got you one, because - while you didn’t need him to - he knew you didn’t like getting your nails under the pull tab of the can or twisting the cap on the bottles. 

Joel knew you. You’d been married a decade and you weren’t sure your husband had ever known you the way Joel did. He’d certainly never done things like that for you. Joel did. That was part of why that moment after Sarah’s party had caught you so off guard. You’d thought you meant more to him than that, that you were more than one of the women he’d pick up, have fun with for a night or a week or a month and then cast aside.

But then he shoved you against the wall in his kitchen and fucked you with his fingers like all you were to him was something physical, telling you how no one could fuck you like he did, as though that was the only thing that would matter. 

You tried to shove that keen loneliness that came with missing him down by focusing on Ellie and pouring your every thought onto the page. You just kept your niece as close as possible all the time, keeping her strapped to your chest as you sat at your desk to write until it felt like your brain was going numb or got your house cleaned up or made dinner or went for a walk just to get out of your own head for a bit. You hoped that all but smothering her with closeness would keep her from realizing the coldly obvious thing that was your desperation and it was a relief when you took her to the rehab facility to pick up Anna. 

This time, things with Anna and Ellie were smooth. Or as close to smooth as you could get with someone coming out of months of inpatient therapy and an infant. Anna seemed nervous with Ellie at first, hesitating and double checking everything, her eyes going from her daughter’s face to yours like she wanted your approval for how she was doing. 

“This is right?” She asked as she held the bottle while cradling Ellie in the way that Joel had shown you. 

“Yeah,” you smiled gently. “You’ve got it.” 

“Yeah,” Anna said, looking back down at Ellie and smiling a little, too. “I think I do.” 

You pulled back slowly then. 

The first two weeks, you were more hands on, doing at least 50% of the work of caring for Ellie, going with Anna daily to meetings and therapy, writing as much as you could and keeping Joel far from your mind. 

But, after a little while, Anna started to naturally take on more and more. The two of you went from splitting the overnight Ellie care to Anna handling everything. Slowly but surely, she took over everything and, by week five, all you were doing was watching as she cared for her daughter. 

“If you wanted to move back home, I think I’m ready,” she said one afternoon as she fed Ellie while you made some tweaks to the plot of your novel in your story notebook. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, setting your pen down, eyebrows drawn together. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Why, do you think I’m not?” 

“No!” You said quickly. “No, I think you’re doing great. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.” 

“It won’t be like it was before,” she smiled, a twinge of sadness in her expression as she did. “I know her now. I know me now. I’ve got this, I don’t need to hold you back anymore.” 

“You’re not…” you began, but she cut you off. 

“I am,” she said. “You have a life outside of me and her and you put it on hold because I couldn’t get my shit together…” 

“You just needed help…” you interjected, but she ignored you.

“…And I’m so sorry I put that on you,” she continued. “I’ll owe you forever for taking care of my daughter when I couldn’t. But we don’t need your help now, you can go back to your life. It’s OK. I promise.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that, really, you didn’t have a life. Outside of your work, your book and your cat, you had nothing. You needed her more than she needed you. 

You’d tried to start getting a life of your own, getting out of the house and doing things on your own, well before this conversation. The first time you’d left Anna alone with Ellie for a few hours, you’d gone out with Tim, the man you’d met at Sarah’s party. 

It was a fine date. It would have been a great one had it been someone else but all you could think about when you looked at him was Joel forcing you to come on his fingers in his kitchen as he said over and over that no one else could make you feel like he did. 

Things fizzled out quickly when you realized it wasn’t something you could really get over. Since then, you hadn’t bothered with Tinder or trying to reach out to Alyssa or anyone else in town. The only person you’d really texted outside of Sarah and Anna was Gale. 

You hadn’t responded to anything your estranged husband had sent since you’d moved in with Joel but then, one day, he texted you something that made you respond. 

I didn’t want you to find this out on Facebook, that seemed wrong, but I wanted you to know that I became a father. 

You stared at the message, just a few days after Anna had said you could move back home, reading it as you held your sister’s infant daughter in your arms. You thought about ignoring it, shoving the strange, hollow feeling that was taking over the core of you down deep, but then he sent one more message, one you couldn’t just pretend he never sent at all. 

I’m sorry it wasn’t you. 

You held it together until Anna was done in the shower, giving Ellie to her and making up some excuse that you were sure she could tell was bullshit - something about a headache and feeling nauseated - so you could hide in the room that had become yours in the time you’d been at Anna’s. You buried your face in the pillow and screamed until your throat was raw and you were choking on your tears, barely able to breathe. 

It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you, not for anybody. He had been everything to you once but you hadn’t been anything to him, not really. It had never been you. 

This, you thought, you should have been used to by now. You’d always felt like you were on the fringes of your own life, the people at the center of your world putting you on the edges of theirs. Gale, when you’d first gotten together with him, was the first person since Joel who made you feel like you were a priority, like you actually mattered. That feeling had faded with time but that, you’d thought, was just a byproduct of what a whole life with someone meant. Of course he didn’t send you good morning texts with poetry anymore or get you flowers just because or go out of his way to get your favorite tea. You saw each other all the time, why would he?

But you’d been sure that, at least with your husband, you were the priority. Until he’d given you divorce papers, even through the months of distance and cold behavior, you’d thought that you were the priority.

Then you realized, you’d kept thinking that, even after he left, even now. The way the divorce had dragged on, the way he kept texting and calling and trying, some sad, sick part of yourself had latched onto that. That you were the important thing, that you were what mattered. Your marriage may have failed but you took some cold comfort in the fact that you’d at least left your mark on him.

But you hadn’t. You’d stopped sleeping together hardly more than a year ago and your husband already had a baby with another woman. Even in your marriage, you’d been on the fringes.

When you stopped crying enough that you could see clearly, you emailed your attorney.

Give him whatever he wants. I just need this to be done.

You knew what that meant. The last divorce agreement his lawyer had sent yours included shared rights to your own fucking book, him keeping the house without buying you out, him keeping the entirety of the 401k. He was asking for a lot but all you wanted then was to cut the tie as thoroughly as possible. As terrifying as it was to live in a world that made it seem like your marriage had never happened, it was better than this. 

Your lawyer called you to be sure, to try to talk you out of it, but you didn’t care. He could have whatever percentage of book rights he wanted, it's not like you could have created it without him. He could have the house, it’s not like you could ever live in it without him. He could have the entire state of Rhode Island for all you cared as long as you’d never be faced with the sharp reality of your marriage.

You wrote furiously when it was done, the words pouring out of you in a way they hadn’t since you’d written Halcyon. You barely slept or ate for days, canceling classes and writing until there wasn’t anything left inside you to say. You finished the manuscript, 33 chapters of your love and pain sitting in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, the cursor pulsing at the end of the final sentence. 

It was over. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now, but it was done. 

You were numb when you were on your couch a few days later, staring at the ceiling with nothing but your cat to keep you company, when your phone rang. You answered it without bothering to look at the screen, content to even talk to a telemarketer for a few minutes if it served as enough of a distraction.

“Hello?”

“What the hell is this, baby doll?”

You sat up fast enough that your head spun, pulling your phone away from your face to see Gale’s name on your screen. You put your ear to the phone again.

“What the hell is what?”

“This,” he said and you could hear the shuffle of papers on the other end.

“You realize we’re not on facetime, right?”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “This, the new divorce agreement your lawyer sent mine, what is this?”

You frowned, putting the call on speaker before going to your most recent email with your attorney and skimming the agreement. Your frown deepened.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked. “I thought you’d be happy, I…”

“You think this is what I want?” He cut you off, sounding heated.

“Isn’t it what you asked for?” you asked. “I don’t think I missed anything, you should have everything you wanted, and…”

“What I asked for is outrageous,” he said. You heard him put something down with a little too much force on the other end – probably a mug, knowing him – the sound of the ceramic on wood sharp. “I knew that when I asked for it."

"OK," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, taking the phone off speaker and holding it against your ear again. “What else do you want? Do you want me to say you won or something? Because…”

“I want you to reconsider,” he said.

You just sat there for a moment, blinking in shock.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “What is this. Why are you giving in to me like this.” 

It still took you a moment to process what he said before you could manage to answer. 

“I’m just trying to give you what you want,” you said, voice thick. 

“You’ve never done that before,” he said. “Hell, even when we were together you never did that, you never just gave into me unless you wanted it, too. Why now.” 

“You…” you sighed. “You’re a father now, you have… there’s someone else in your life now, you have another life now, Gale, and you should live it. I’m holding you back, I don’t want to hold you back, I…” 

“You’ve never held me back,” he said. “I’ve told you that.” 

“Well, clearly I wasn’t right for you in some way or we wouldn’t be where we’re at right now,” you snapped without meaning to. “I’m not the one who wanted to separate, that was you.” 

“Yeah, well, I fucked up,” he said and you had to bite your tongue. “I was… I’ve never been with anyone as long as I was with you…” 

“Yeah, me ether,” you said voice still sharp. “I was with you for more than a third of my life Gale.” 

“I know that,” he said, speaking more gently than you. “I should have known better, I should have understood how things would change and I should have embraced your success instead of letting it hurt me…” 

“My success hurt you?” You asked quietly. 

He sighed heavily. 

“It did,” he said. “You thrived commercially in ways I never could. I envied that, so much that I couldn’t stand being around you.” 

“That’s it?” You asked. “That’s what made you leave me, the fact that I sold more books than you did?” 

“No, of course not,” he said. “But it’s… it’s what started it.” 

You almost laughed to keep yourself from crying because of course it was the one success you’d found that broke your marriage. Why would it be anything else? 

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” you said. 

“I know,” he said. “I was wondering if…” 

“Does Carla know you’re talking to me?” You asked, cutting him off. 

“Does she need to?” He asked. “You’re my wife.” 

“And she’s the mother of your child,” you said. “I’m not going to be the other woman in my own marriage. You need to figure out what you want.” 

“And if I want you?” He asked. 

You sighed. 

“You have a family now,” you said. “Think before you blow it up.” 

But ever since, Gale had been a bigger presence in your life than Joel. He’d started acting like he had in the early days of your relationship, sending you romantic texts and having flowers delivered to your house. 

Part of you knew you should resist it, that this wouldn’t lead anywhere good. There was a reason things had fallen apart once before, you knew they would again. But going back to him would be so easy. He was comfortable, familiar. There was a life the two of you had together that you knew you could fit back into now, if you wanted. It might be complicated - he had a child now - but it was there, right in front of you. 

You just weren’t sure if you wanted it. 

So you started talking with him. Not a lot, not like it had been before, but you were texting daily. He wanted to know about your book, how your classes were going, about your life in Texas. Part of you was waiting for the other foot to drop, for him to decide that he didn’t want you again, but he was consistent and that, at least, was something. 

Meanwhile, your only contact with Joel was in a group chat with Sarah. 

You might have needed space from Joel but you couldn’t just cut things off with Sarah. It wasn’t fair to her, you knew she was attached to you. Plus, she had become like a niece or daughter to you in the year you’d known her. You knew the names of her friends and her favorite songs and the books she liked. You loved her. You’d had to keep in touch. She regularly came over to watch a movie or have dinner and she called you at least three times a week to ask for help with homework and tell you about her life.  

While you kept up with Sarah, you never really directly spoke to Joel. You only texted in the group chat to confirm that it was OK for you to pick up Sarah and what time she needed to be back, or when Joel would drop her off and pick her up at your place. 

But you’d opened up your texts to send him a message directly at least once a day and every time you just stared at the last thing he’d sent you: I’m sorry. It was sent just hours after you’d left his house with Ellie weeks before. 

You weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to say to him, what you were supposed to do with that apology. Were you supposed to accept it and pretend it had never happened? Were you supposed to actually have him explain to you, on no uncertain terms, how he saw you and what he wanted from your relationship? Could you handle actually hearing him say it if you did? 

You didn’t know. So you left it alone, the message glaring at you, the date stamp going further and further into the past with every passing day. 

And that’s where your relationship with Joel sat, frozen in time, as his daughter watched you closely. 

“You should come over tonight,” Sarah said. You raised your eyebrows and she stared you down. “When you drop me off. Just come inside, say hi, have dinner. It’s think he said he was going to grill.” 

“I’m sure he already has everything planned out for tonight,” you said, returning to the work of painting her last nail and closing the polish. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…” 

“Please?” She said, her eyes wide. She had to know what she was doing, looking at you that way. She was too smart for her own good. “I miss you.” 

You sighed. 

“Alright…” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory. 

“But just to say hi,” you said and her face fell a little. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“Psh, family doesn’t impose,” she waved you off. You looked at her, incredulous. “What? That’s what Uncle Tommy says when he wants to stay for dinner.” 

You snorted. 

“Yeah, I bet he does,” you said. “Alright, once your toes dry, we’ll go to the bookstore and get you home.” 

“And you’ll come inside?” 

“And I’ll come inside,” you said, even though the thought made your stomach knot. “Promise.” 

You took her to the bookstore, just wandering through with her and picking out a few new things for her - because you weren’t above buying a kid’s love - and got in line, where you passed a table of best sellers. 

Halcyon was sitting there, out in paperback now, one copy sitting face down so your portrait was visible on the back. Sarah frowned and picked it up, examining it for a moment before her face lit up. 

“Aunt Goldie!” She said, thrusting the book at you. “That’s you! I didn’t know you were famous!” 

You shushed her, someone in line in front of you turning to look at you. 

“OK, well, I’m not famous,” you said, taking the book from her and setting it back where it belonged. “I just wrote a book that people liked, that’s all.” 

“My dad said you wrote a book, I didn’t know it was a famous book,” she said. “Can I read it?” 

“Absolutely not,” you said, nudging her forward as the line moved. 

“Why not?” She pouted. 

“Because, as much as I love you and know how good of a reader you are, I wrote the book for adults,” you said. “You can read it in 10 years. Maybe.” 

“Well, will you tell me what it’s about?” She asked. 

You sighed, not entirely sure how to answer that question. At least, not to Sarah. 

“It’s…” you paused. “It’s about love and figuring out who you are with it and without it.” 

“Oh,” she crinkled her nose a little. 

“What?” You asked, laughing a little. 

“Sounds kinda boring,” she said. “Sorry.” 

You snorted. 

“No, you’re right,” you said. “It probably is boring.” 

You paid for the books, the person in line behind you stopping you on your way out the door to sign a copy of your book they’d just bought, Sarah beaming as she watched, and drove to Joel’s. 

You took a moment to steel yourself as you sat in his driveway. You hadn’t been in Joel’s house since you’d left. Any time you picked up or dropped off Sarah, you just sat in the car and waited for her to come to you or watched her until she was safely inside. You didn’t dare actually go in the house. That, you knew, was a bridge too far.

But you’d overcome bigger obstacles. You could do this, too. 

You pulled yourself together and followed Sarah inside. 

Nothing had changed. The blanket that was made by Joel’s mother was still draped on the end of the couch, his work boots were in a heap near the door, a beach towel from the pool was drying on a chair outside that you could just see through the sliding glass door. In spite of the knot in your stomach, this place felt like home. There was comfort here because the people you loved were here. 

“That you baby girl?” Joel called from down the hall. 

Your heart stuttered.

“It’s just me,” she called back.

You heard the telltale sounds of his footsteps as he made his way to the stairs. 

“For dinner, did you…” he said before he froze, looking up from his phone to find you standing there, in his living room. 

You smiled tightly. 

“Hi Joel.” 

***

You were here. 

In his living room, you were here. You were here and you weren’t ignoring him and maybe he hadn’t fucking ruined everything. You were here and holy fuck you looked good, just in shorts and a tank top and fuck, he wanted to touch you again. 

Instead, he just swallowed that driving want and cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter as he did. 

“Hey, Goldie.” 

You smiled. Not in that usual way you had, one that was quieter and stiller but still there. 

“I told Aunt Goldie that she should come over and stay for dinner,” Sarah said. 

“Oh,” Joel said, looking between you and Sarah. “Well, baby girl, Aunt Goldie’s been real busy lately and…” 

“She already said she could stay for dinner,” Sarah said, almost smirking. “And I know you guys aren’t in a fight because you’ve both said you’re not in a fight and you’d never lie to me about that, right?” 

Joel looked at you, a little desperate, and you just gave him a small shrug. 

“Right,” she finished for him. “So that means she can stay for dinner because there’s no reason she can’t and oh, look! Vanessa is calling me so I’m just going to go into my room until dinner is ready and talk with her and not listen to whatever you two are going to talk about. Bye!” 

She ran upstairs, taking them two steps at a time, leaving you and Joel standing there awkwardly in his living room. 

“Sorry,” he said at the same time you did and you both laughed awkwardly.

“She’s conniving, that one,” you said. 

“Little trickster,” Joel agreed. 

He just watched you for a moment, happy that he could see you - actually see you, not just picture you like he usually did now.  

“I should have called,” you said after you were both quiet for a moment. “I shouldn’t have just… It doesn’t matter that she wanted me to come over like this, I should have called and…” 

“No, it’s fine,” Joel said quickly. “You’re always welcome here, Goldie, you don’t need to call.” 

You smiled, small again, but it was there. 

“Thanks,” you said. “I should have at least brought something, though, I know you weren’t planning on me being here… I can just go, I don’t…” 

“Think we can find enough food in this house to feed three people,” he said, stepping closer, smiling a little. “Stay, if you want. I’d… I’d really like it if you stayed.” 

“OK,” you said and you smiled like you then, small at first but then wide and bright and welcoming. “Then yeah, I’ll stay.” 

Falling into you again was so fast and so easy. You followed him to the kitchen and the two of you made awkward, stilted conversation for a minute or two but, before long, you were perched on the counter while he made burger patties from the ground beef in the fridge as you told him how Ellie was doing and he told you what he’d been up to since you’d left. 

Which, he had to admit, he was embellishing a little because, without you and Ellie, his life had been pretty gray. 

After you left, it took a few days before it felt like he could do anything but take care of Sarah and stare at his phone. He’d texted you an apology, something he immediately regretted. He should have figured out a better way to say it instead of just “I’m sorry” and kept his mouth shut until he did. He kept hoping that you’d reply, that you’d give him a chance to say something better than “I’m sorry.” 

Eventually, he gave up and tried to figure out how to live without you again. It was harder than he’d expected it to be. He’d done it before when you’d gone more than just a few miles down the road and he’d lived through that, this shouldn’t have been any worse. But it was. 

Your lives had become so entangled, so in step, you were missing in everything he did. There were reminders of you everywhere and in everything, so much so that he needed an outlet. 

So, he started playing guitar more.

It hurt at first because, for some masochistic fucking reason, he kept being drawn to songs about heartbreak and loss. But eventually, he got to the point that he wanted to do something besides wallow. It took him some time to figure out what the fuck that meant but, eventually, he settled on the perfect thing: his business plan. 

Part of him wanted to believe that he was doing it only for himself. That this was what he wanted, it was the next step he needed to take to make his life - and the life he was building for his daughter - what he wanted it to be. 

But that wasn’t true, you were in this, too. This was what he needed to do to be worthy of you. Maybe, if he could actually fucking make something of himself, you’d want him the way he wanted you. 

So he’d put together the damn business plan. He put together the business plan and thought up a name and made an appointment at the bank to apply for the loan he’d need to start the company to begin with. He did everything he had to to make something of himself. He did it because he’d been wanting to be something since he’d first held his daughter. He did it because you gave him the courage and the drive to do it. 

He didn’t tell you that part of it but he did tell you about the business stuff and he couldn’t help but be a little proud as he did. 

But it was strange being close to you again like this, in ways that weren’t as intimate as they’d been just a few months before. He couldn’t just touch you as he cooked, trailing his hand up your thigh or his fingers over the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist where he could feel the pulse of you. Even with that odd distance, it felt like you should be close to him all the time, like he shouldn’t need to catch up with you like this because he should just know. He should just be living all of this with you.

“I’m so glad you guys aren’t fighting anymore,” Sarah said cheerfully when she finally emerged from her room for dinner, the three of you gathered around Joel’s table with cheeseburgers standing tall on your plates. 

You looked at Joel, brows raised and nose scrunched and he sighed before looking back at Sarah. 

“We weren’t fighting, baby girl,” he said. 

“Oh, sure,” Sarah nodded sarcastically. 

“He’s right. As much as I would love to just hang out with you and your dad all day, I’m afraid I do have a job,” you said. “And that means I have to be somewhere else at least some of the time.” 

“I’ve just decided that I’m not going to let you guys not talk to each other for my whole life again,” she said. “So say whatever you want, I’m just glad Aunt Goldie is back.” 

She got up and gave you both a squeeze. 

“I’m going to go do homework,” she said. 

“Believe that when I see it,” Joel scoffed. 

“And you guys have fun,” she said, ignoring you both before heading to her room. 

You watched her go, an amused smile on your face until you heard her bedroom door closed. 

“She is too smart for her own good, for the record,” you said. 

“Tell me about it,” Joel laughed. “Fuck if I know where she gets it from, too. Sure as hell ain’t me.” 

“You always underestimate yourself,” you smiled a little, watching him now. Joel shrugged. “Is it weird to say I’m proud of you? For the business stuff I mean?” 

“Nah,” Joel waved you off. “Not weird. Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Yes you could,” you said. “But I’m glad I got to be a part of it.” 

“Want to be more of a part of it?” He asked. “Because no one but me has read this business plan and, I’m not gonna lie to you Goldie girl, that’s making me pretty damn nervous.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d be happy to.” 

Joel just watched as you went through the documents, a serious look on your face, and you made some notes on scratch paper as you went, weirdly anxious about what you would say. Because what you thought mattered even more than the damn bank. 

“This is good,” you said when you finished, nodding slowly. “I have some questions but I think this is really good, Joel.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, brows raised. 

You smiled, one of your smiles, the ones he loved so much. 

“Yeah,” you said. “You’re getting that loan, Miller. You’re about to be Joel Miller, proud founder of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting, how’s it feel?” 

He laughed.

“Pretty damn good,” he said. “But I do want your notes, I really want to do something right for once in my damn life.” 

“Sure,” you laughed. “But I have had a beer and four glasses of iced tea since I’ve been here so I have to pee first. Think you can manage to wait for like… two minutes?” 

“I guess,” Joel groaned. “Cave to your basic human frailties, God you’re so lame.” 

You rolled your eyes at him but ran off to the bathroom and Joel watched you go, his eyes lingering on your ass and he tried to not picture you naked in his bed, remembering the way you looked when you slept naked and kicked the covers off in the night and he could see every inch of your skin beside him. 

Your phone vibrating on the table pulled him out of his own head and he was about to call your name when he frowned, seeing the name on screen. 

Gale was calling you. 

Fucking Gale. 

He watched it ring out, staring it down like it was a threat. 

What the fuck were you doing talking to fucking Gale? You weren’t speaking to the guy when you’d been staying at Joel’s. What was he doing calling you now? 

“Alright,” you said, clapping your hands together once before punching the air as you made your way back to the kitchen. “Let’s do this thing, Miller!” 

“Why is Gale calling you?” He asked. 

Your face fell. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“Gale,” he said, feeling himself get madder than he should. “The fucking asshole you’re supposed to be getting away from, Gale. Your ex-husband, Gale.”

“He’s not my ex-husband,” you said, shoving your hands in your back pockets and squaring your jaw. “We’re still married. And it’s not your business who I talk to…” 

“Not your ex-husband?” He asked. “And not my business? It’s not my business, right, great…” 

“Are we doing this again?” You asked, brows raised. “Really? You’re going to be pissed that I’m seeing someone…” 

“You’re fucking seeing him?” He asked, getting to his feet. “You’re getting back together with your ex-husband, the same one who treated you like shit? Jesus Christ, Goldie!” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” You snapped. “But I do know that he’s coming here tomorrow so we can talk and he’s going to help me with my book and…” 

“Why!” He cut you off. “Why the fuck are you going back to that… that… fucking asshole? Goldie, you’re so much BETTER than him! You don’t…” 

“He’s my husband, Joel!” You all but yelled. “He’s someone that I promised to be with for the rest of my life and that means something, I can’t just pretend it didn't happen! We’ve been talking and…” 

“And what?” Joel snapped. “What, he start manipulating you again?” 

“Again?” You asked, incredulous. “What do you mean again, you don’t know anything about our relationship, you don’t know what he was like then, what I was like then! You don’t know that part of my life, stop pretending like you do!” 

“And why don’t I know it, hm?” He asked, just pissed off now. “Tell me, why don’t I know that part of your life when I know all the others, why don’t I know that part?” 

“Don’t,” you said, sharp and cold. 

He didn’t listen. 

“Because you left! I don’t know because you left, you left me here like I was nothing, like I didn’t fucking matter to you and yeah, maybe I didn’t but…” 

“No, fuck you,” you spat. “You don’t get to pretend like you’re just some innocent in all this…” 

“Then what am I?” He demanded. “Tell me, I’m fucking dying to know how it’s my fuckin’ fault that you took off across the damn country, changed your damn number, blocked me on goddamn Facebook when I LOVED you…” 

“Don’t,” you said, tears at the edges of your eyes. “Don’t do that, don’t say that kind of shit to me…” 

“Say what?” He asked. “Tell you the truth? Because…” 

“Because I’m not just some girl you fuck and cast aside, Joel!” You got in his face, tears falling now. “So don’t feed me the same lines you feed them because it won’t work and it’s not fair to me or to our friendship and…” 

“What lines!” He asked. “I’m not feeding you any fucking lines, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“I heard you!” You yelled, breathless, forceful enough that Joel stepped back from you. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“I heard you,” you said. “When you were talking with Ricky, under the bleachers after prom, I heard you. I heard how much you regretted that night, I heard what you thought of me, I fucking heard you, Joel. So don’t act like you didn’t do anything, don’t act like I meant something to you because I know I didn’t. I know what I was, I know I was just some stupid girl you regretted fucking, I heard you. I know what I am to you, deep down, so forgive me if I’m not exactly desperate to talk through this shit with you. I’m sorry the fact that someone out there wants me, actually wants me, is so inconvenient for you!” 

You snatched your phone from the table and stalked toward the door. 

“No,” he said, going after you. “No, Goldie, listen, I…”

“I’m really not interested in hearing more of your bullshit, Joel,” you snapped. “I can’t, I just don’t have it in me to hear you talk about how much you regret me anymore.” 

You paused in the doorway, looking back at him as he scrambled to find a way to say something - anything - that would make you stay. 

“Good luck at the bank,” you said. “I’m sure you’ll get what you’re asking for.” 

You were gone before he had a chance to respond. 

A/N: I'm so sorry this took a million years. Thank you for being patient as my job put me through the wringer and grad school just beat me over the head repeatedly.

This was a BIG moment for Goldie in particular! She FINALLY said it, the reason why she left and why she thinks he doesn't want her. She reopened the wound and now the ball is in Joel's court. We'll see what he does with it :)

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[aajjks]

Brat. (m)

synopsis. Toji finds your jealousy cute, you’re his little cute brat.

warnings. MDNI. some nsfw themes, fingering, kissing slightly yandere toji, jealous yn, toji cooeing, kisses. toji being a little tease, he calls you his brat, cutie, princess & what not, he lives for your jealousy. SOFT TOJI.

note. heh, another jjk fic because I’m so obsessed w toji daddy…. IDK HES JUST SOOO DADDY. plz share your thoughts! ENJOY! ART NOT MINE. I found this on Pinterest, cr to owners!

*not edited*

“Don’t touch me, toji.”

He breathes through his nose, his dimples making their way on his face as he blinks twice, his lips curl at your tone.

You’re just so cute.

He doesn’t reply but only watches you with an amused look in his eyes, he extends his hand to pull your body towards him, you huff, rolling your eyes.

Toji almost cooes.

“Come on now babe.” He pretends to feel hurt with your attitude but if anything, he’s having the time of his life.

“Fuck off! Go to her!” He clicks his tongue when you mention her, toji leans closer to your skin, presses a kiss on your shoulder, sighing into your neck.

“I don’t even know her?!?” He defended himself, how was it his fault, you guys were out, having coffee at your favourite place when that all happened.

“She was literally undressing you with her eyes?!” You groaned, your nose scrunched up with anger, toji littered kisses from your jaw to your neck.

“Baby… it wasn’t my fault…” he whispered in your ear.

“How dare she, God….. if only I could punch her!” Your teeth grit. Toji raises his head to look at your face directly.

“Oh would you if you had the chance…?” You were the cutest little thing ever, toji could tease you forever, you turn your face to the other side, glaring at him.

“Of course! What a slut!” Toji almost chuckles at you,

he tilts his body and grabs your face in his hands, “princess, your attitude is making me very horny right now.”

He pulls your body into his lap, before you can protest.

“You sound so hot, princess.” Toji’s tongue feels hot when you feel him lick your neck, his fingers press under your sweatshirt, travelling down to your legs,

“You’re jealous?” He unzips your trousers with no struggle, his deep eyes set on your face, he loves to witness it turning all nervous and shy.

“Come on speak.” He cooes.

His fingers are cold as he reaches your underwear, “tell me.” Your underwear is now down to your knees, you gasp at the feeling of air, his hands now the only thing keeping you warm inside.

“T-Toji, please”

“No princess not until you tell me what you’d do to her for flirting with me.” He is so cocky, a sweet smile on his face is mocking his not so sweet intentions.

“I-I’d fucking break her jaw.” You barely stop yourself from stuttering, his fingers feel so thick and hot as he inserts one of the digits inside your heat.

You whine, “aw baby wan’more?” You cannot even look at him now.

He curls the finger and you whine even louder, he caught you so off guard. You close your eyes.

“I-I’d make sure t-that she’d never even t-think a-about you!” You confess, you feel him harden immediately, you feel his length poking at your butt.

“Fuck, YN. Never took you for the possessive type, eh?” He pushes another finger inside, pumping them at a fast pace, you cry at the sensation.

It feels so good.

“My little b-brat, ah!~” the man curses under his breath your hips grind into his erection, he bites his lower lip, pushing his weight onto the couch.

“You’d let the bitch know that I’m your man huh?” He doesn’t stop his torture on your poor self, you don’t respond and he pulls you in for a hot kiss.

“My little brat, love you so much.”

[wintersoldiersoul]

hey dear ❤️ I maybe thought of an imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?

Keep Me Warm

A/N: I changed up the timeline of this a tiny bit but the main idea is still there! I hope you enjoy!!

The mission had been long and grueling. You and Bucky have spent nearly a week in the mountains trying to take down the enemy. You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Finally, you had gotten the call that you could come home. You were so excited to be back home in the compound, sleeping in your own comfy bed.

“Excited to go home, Y/N?” Bucky asked. 

You rubbed your hands together, trying to keep warm while you waited for the jet. “Can’t wait. I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in my bed.”

He smiled. There was no better thing in the world than him smiling. You tried to keep your crush on him at bay, knowing he’d never feel the same way about you, but damn was it hard. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing and his smile could wake a goddamn army. He was just so perfect.

You smiled back, hoping that he assumed that the blush on your cheeks was from the cold and not from him.

His phone rang and he answered, hoping it would be an update on how far the jet was. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said into the device. “Shit, really? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he sighed. “Yup. I’ll check back when we’re there. Bye.” He hung up and looked at you. “Bad news. There’s a bad storm coming and the jet can’t fly. We’re gonna have to stay here another night.”

“Fuckk,” you threw your head back in frustration. You had spent the entire mission hiding in safe house to safe house, all of them in secluded areas where you couldn’t be found. Sometimes if you were lucky, you got to stay in nicer places with actual beds and furniture. But due to the sensitive nature of this mission, that hadn't been the case. The thought of spending another night in one of those places nearly made you cry. 

“Good news is that Steve said there’s a cabin not too far. It’s still nothing fancy, but he said its an upgrade to what we’ve been in. We should be safe now that we’ve, you know, taken down the enemy,” he smiled warmly, trying to get you to stay positive. 

“Oh, that's good,” you responded. “Let’s go, then.” 

The two of you had to trudge through the snow to get there. The walk ended up being nearly 2 hours and you couldn’t feel your body by the time you arrived. The cabin was small, with only one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

“Shit, you’re shivering,” Bucky noted when you got inside.

“Yeah, how are you not?” 

He shrugged. “It’s the serum. I’m still cold, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it a lot harder for me to be cold. Even in freezing weather.”

“Must be n-nice,” you mumbled through chattering teeth. “I get cold so easily. Any time it’s below 50 degrees I can’t f-feel my t-toes.”

“Go take a hot shower, okay? I’ll try to see if there’s any food I can make for us.” 

You nodded, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You took your time, rejoicing in the hot water as you washed all of the dirt off of your skin. When you got out, you rummaged through your bag trying to find a sweatshirt but it seemed to have disappeared. “Fuck,” you whispered. You must have left it at the last safe house. You threw on a t-shirt and sweats, still shivering as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is the heat on?” You asked Bucky.

“I think it’s broken. I was playing around with it but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”

You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to get warm. “Shit, I think I left my sweatshirt at the last safe house.” 

 “Doll, you’re gonna freeze,” he said sympathetically. “Here.” In one fell-swoop he ripped off the gray cable knit sweater that he had on. “I just put it on when we got here so it’s clean.”

“Buck, I don’t want you to be cold, though,” you protested, despite how cozy the sweater looked. 

He swatted a hand. “Remember, I don’t get too cold. Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna turn into an ice block soon.”

You smiled, graciously. “Thanks.” You pulled the sweater over your head, immediately enthralled by his scent. The fabric smelled like musky vanilla and pine, the scent that you had come to associate with him. It smelled like home. 

“I was able to find some soup,” he said, holding out a bowl for you. “Maybe it will help warm you up.” 

“Thank you, Buck.” You sat down and began to eat.

“Lemme see if I can get a fire started,” he got up and walked over to the fireplace. You watched him as he threw wood into a pile, entranced by his muscles flexing each time he picked up another piece. Between the serum, the metal arm, and the fact that he was just so in shape, he did it all with ease, not even flinching at the weight. How could you not fall for the guy just a little bit? 

“You alright over there?” He smirked at you, noticing your eyes on him.

Shit, get it together, Y/N, you thought. “Oh, sorry, just zoning out,” you tried to cover. 

Within a few minutes, he had a roaring fire emanating heat throughout the room. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you warm over by the table you were still sitting at. 

“Come over here,” he encouraged. “It's nice and warm by the fire.”

You stood up and made your way over to the couch so that you could feel the heat of the fire better. “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed, feeling the embers warming your body. Bucky crept up beside you sitting down and rubbing his flesh arm over yours.

“You’re fucking freezing. I can feel how cold you are through the sweater,” he whispered. He was so close to you. “Lemme hold you. Warm you up a bit.”

“Um,” you cleared your throat, heart rate speeding up. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.” 

He laughed quietly before pulling you so you were laying back against him. “Damn, I feel bad that you’re so cold,” he said, voice holding sympathy and care.

“It’s not your fault, Buck. You’re already doing a lot to try to help.”

The next words he said were something you never thought you’d hear. “Maybe I should never let you go. Just keep holding you like this forever.”

“What?” Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that? He laughed lightly. “Would you like that?”

“Bucky, I-um…” you felt so flustered. Was he just messing with you?

“Come on, Doll,” he smiled. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it that I’m kinda in love with you. And I think…” he said, putting his mouth close to your ear. “You might feel the same way about me.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, the feeling of him speaking into your ear sending chills through your body. 

“If I’m reading it totally wrong that’s okay. But I can’t hide how I feel anymore, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even talk to you for like 3 months because I got so flustered around you. Then we did start talking and I found out that you were also the most interesting, intelligent, kind person I’ve ever met. So tell me, please. Do you feel the same way?”

Your heart pounded. How was this happening? “Yes, Bucky. I-I feel the same way.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you turn around so I can kiss you?”

You quickly flipped your body so you were lying on him, face to face. He pulled your mouth to his, quickly inserting his tongue into your mouth. It was so much better than you had imagined, and you had spent a lot of time fantasizing about kissing him. 

“Y/N,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He ran his hand up and down your back as he spoke. “You’re so amazing.”

“I’ve been dreaming about that for a while too, Buck,” you laughed, enjoying his embrace. “You know,” you spoke, voice in a teasing tone. “There’s only one bed in here. We might have to put it to good use.”

Within a second, Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Worry Me, Worry You

[Dew is sick Swiss has some feelings about it. Contains discussion of being sick both in the sense of being unwell as well as in the physical sense. A fair bit of angst with a mild resolution at the end.] Below the cut.

When Dew gets sick, It starts with a weakness in his fingers, an inability to grip things in his hand without it feeling... off.

His muscles and joints feel loose and wrong, so he clenches his fists tighter, strains and tires himself without realizing until he can't manage simple tasks anymore.

His hands shake, and his sight goes to static at the edges, save for a strange, drifting clear spot in his vision, that has a filminess to it like a soap bubble without the rainbow sheen.

The pain doesn't set in right away, but the inability to focus his vision, combined by the sudden loss of his fine motor tells him it's only a matter of time before it does.

So when his hand refuses to close around the pen he's been using to scribble down notes with, he knows something's wrong... and he needs to deal with it before someone sees him.

Dew wets his lips, grateful to have caught things in the early stages, before his stomach has a chance to turn, before he feels that familiar numbness in the back of his throat...

He drops the pen onto the desk and closes his eyes, trying to strategize how exactly he's going to make it from his desk to his on suite bathroom without jostling himself too much.

He only needs to make it ten feet.

Why does that seem so far away now?

With great difficulty, Dew stands on unsure feet for only a moment before feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Shit." he staggers uncoordinatedly in one spot before carefully lowering himself to the ground, knees pressing into the hardwood, and crawls to the bathroom instead.

He can barely reach the handle from the floor, but when he does, the door refuses to budge, and Dew bumps against it weakly with his shoulder, accidentally knocking his head and wincing.

He really needs to get this thing fucking fixed.

His head and the damned door.

Dew grunts awkwardly, smacking his hand uselessly against the flat surface.

It doesn't even make a sound when his hand slaps it, looks more like he's drunkenly petting it if anything.

Fuck.

His eyes water, clouding his already hazy vision as the pain starts to really set in.

It's like someone stabbing him repeatedly in the head with a metal fork, but lifting each time to scrape against the insides of his skull, and the only thing he can think to do is press his face to the floor and hope it's cold enough to soothe the persistent pulsing in his brain.

He tries to breathe normally, keep himself from clenching his jaw, but it's hard.

His body feels impossibly heavy.

He shivers.

Across the room, he can hear his phone buzzing.

Someone's calling him, but he just closes his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

It's not easy, and the grating sound of it rattling against the desktop feels like a knife in his ear, but, eventually, he's more focused on keeping his stomach settled and his head cooled that he's too out of it to realize his bedroom door is opening.

.

.

.

When Dew opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, bundled up in a sweatshirt too big to be his own, propped up on his side by a pillow wedged under his back, and a blanket covering him from the waist down, so his legs stay warm, but ensuring that his tender stomach stays relatively cooler.

A cold compress falls from his neck as he lifts his head, looking around the room tiredly.

He's dully aware of two things as he comes back to himself.

His mouth tastes like... peppermint.

Whoever put him here also brushed his teeth, and...

There's a distinct smell of artificial lemons in the air, like the floor cleaner they use specifically for the wood floors when there's been a spill so it doesn't leave a stain.

He tries not to think about what the person needed to clean up besides, ya know, him.

Dew sniffs again, but something about the action causes a fleck of spit to go down the wrong tube, and he lets out a little cough, which quickly turns into a groan as the muscles in his abdomen contract.

"Ah, you're awake."

Dew makes a small, befuddled noise in the back of his throat, followed by a weary chirp when he sees Rain walk into the room, smiling at him.

Dew drags himself up into a sitting position, and Rain is quick to rearrange his pillows to keep him upright.

"...Did you clean up my... the mess?" he croaks, his throat feels painfully dry, "Ow..."

"Mm-mm." Rain shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle and handing it to Dew.

"Nah, that was Swiss, he's the one who found you on the floor. Said he was coming to show you something stupid he bought and... yeah."

Dew tries to lift the bottle to drink, but his hands are too shaky and he spills a little down the front of his shirt, pouting.

Seeing his predicament, Rain steadies the bottle enough for Dew to drink a few good sips of water before taking it back and setting it on the nightstand beside the bed, "Better?"

"Mn..." he clicks his tongue, "I feel like... a rock... a rock made of shit."

"That's... I have no idea if feeling like a coprolite is better or worse than you felt before, but I'm going to assume that means you're feeling... relatively okay?"

"Ehn." Dew shrugs, "...my head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stomach's being a bitch..."

"Do you think you're going to throw up again?" Rain asks, worriedly eyeing the bathroom door.

"No... it's just sore now." he says, sinking back into the pillows, looking around the room curiously, "...Where'd Swiss go?"

"To take a shower." Rain says, glancing at the floor.

Ah.

"...'m sorry." Dew mumbles and Rain just smiles sadly and pets his hair.

"If you want to apologize to properly, you've gotta rest up and get better, okay?"

Dew nods, purring sleepily as Rain scratches around his horns.

"Any idea what made you sick?" Rain asks and Dew shrugs.

"Mn, migraine maybe... dunno..." he tugs at his shirt, "...Whose is this? Is this a unicorn riding a... riding a motorcyle, what?"

"It's Cirrus'."

Dew pinches his eyes shut and grumbles, "How many of you saw me all... gross and shit?"

There's a brief pause of consideration before Rain responds.

"Uh... When Swiss found you, he kind of shouted and..."

Dew covers his face with his hands.

"...Fuuuck..."

"We didn't know what was happening and-" Rain cuts himself off, watching tears dribble down Dew's chin, "Dew? Dew, does something hurt?"

"'m fuckin' embarrassed, what the fuck..." he whines, turning away from Rain and smushing his face into the pillow.

"Dew, it's-"

"'s'not okay..." Dew mumbles, "...I don't even remember what happened between being on the floor and now, and you all... that's fuckin' stupid."

"How's it stupid?"

"...I'm stupid. This is stupid-"

"Dew-"

"-My body's fucking stupid!" Dew cries, whipping around and throwing the pillows off his bed in a fit, flopping back down only to kick the sheets off as well, sniffling angrily when they refuse to untangle from around his legs.

"I'm a fuckin' demon! I'm supposed to be tougher than this!"

"Dew." Rain says a bit more firmly, grabbing his knees, forcing his legs to still, "Dew, I know it's upsetting, but we've got this, yeah? We're gonna take care of you."

"I don't want that..." Dew wipes his eyes with the sleeve of Cirrus' sweatshirt, "Don't want it..."

"Don't want us to take care of you or..." Rain tries, lowering his voice.

"Don't want..." Dew rolls onto his side again, "...I don't... I don't like..."

Rain tilts his head and waits.

"...I don't..." he can't finish the sentence.

He doesn't even know how he's supposed to articulate what he's feeling right now aside from sick.

His brain feels like pudding and all he can keep thinking about is how all of them...

...All of them...

"...Don't like it when you see me... see me like that..." he says finally, picking at the mattress, "Just leave me on the floor next time, pretend you didn't notice-"

The door creaks open and Swiss enters with his arms crossed.

"You... you know we can't do that, right?" he scoffs, holding his hand up when Dew opens his mouth to argue, "Sorry, baby boy, but I... we don't like seeing you suffer as much as you seem to want to hide it, so, like, no."

Dew hisses, but feels the fight leaving him when Rain sends him a sympathetic look and kneads his shoulder soothingly.

Swiss enters the room fully and shuts the door part way, leaving it ajar, before sitting down on the end of his bed, just out of kicking range in case Dew throws another tantrum.

"...This is fucking humiliating..." Dew huffs, staring daggers at his ceiling fan.

"Which part? Your sweet new sleep shirt curtesy of Cirrus, or the fact that we all love you so much we wouldn't let you lie on the floor in agony?"

Dew tilts his head down to look at the shirt again.

"...The latter."

He does have to admit he likes the design, but that's not the point.

"Well, too bad. We love ya, and you're going to have to get used to that." Swiss teases, "But, really, dude... We were really worried."

Rain nods.

"I would have been fine..." Dew whispers, "Not my first rodeo with this shit, so..."

"And you know that's more concerning, right?" Swiss points out, "Cause here's the thing; I don't care if you don't care about your own wellbeing, I mean, I fucking DO because you should care, but that's not even... What I'm trying to say is, if you're not doing well, you can tell us, you know that, yeah?"

Dew frowns, returning to glaring at his ceiling.

"Dew..." Swiss sighs, "I..."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward to hold his hand.

"Have any of us... ever made you feel like it isn't safe to talk about this stuff?" he asks.

"...No."

"But, do you... feel like it's not safe to talk about it?"

Dew doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice wobbles a bit.

"Yeahh..."

Rain returns to petting Dew's hair, "We've got you."

Swiss gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At some point, Dew falls back asleep.

His dreams are nightmarish and provide little to no respite.

.

.

.

When Dew wakes, Rain is gone, but Swiss is lounging on his bed beside him scrolling through his phone, and Dew angles his head to take a peek at his screen.

"...Is that a dog or a cat?" he asks, his words a bit slurred from the way he's squished.

Swiss startles and almost drops his phone, "Jesus!"

He places a hand on his chest.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was." Dew mumbles, "...And now I'm awake."

"Thank you for the rundown, Captain Obvious.... Geez... You're scaring me a lot today, you know that?" Swiss pinches Dew's cheek and gives it a pull.

"Aughh diiidnth meean tooahh..." Dew says, "...'m thorry."

Swiss lets go of his face and sets his phone off to the side.

"You really did though." he says, ruffling Dew's hair, "I got scared seeing you on the ground like that, I didn't know what to do, and if... if something..."

He shakes his head.

"Actually, let's talk about that later, when you're better... How're you feeling now that you've slept some more?"

Dew yawns, "Weirdly more tired..."

Swiss snorts, "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Dew wriggles closer to Swiss, looping his arm around his midsection and bumping his head against his chest.

"Whatcha doin' there, bud?"

"Lay down." Dew nudges him, "Sleep."

"Well, since you asked so politely..."

Dew lets Swiss go in order for him to get settled, resting his head on the pillow beside his.

"I'm still upset with you." Swiss informs him, but still allows Dew to snuggle up against his side, "...Glad you're not dead though."

"You thought I died?"

Swiss hums.

"You weren't responding when I called your name or shook you, so... yeah... yeah, I did." he says, resting his chin on top of Dew's head, "Aeth came running, made sure that... that you weren't... ya know."

"...Ah..."

"I..." Swiss swallows, voice cracking, "...Everybody was scared, but then you woke up! And we got you to answer some questions, and then... then you..."

"What did I do?" Dew asks nervously.

"You, uh, you... it was like the meme... You were just standing there, like dumbfounded about it, and meanwhile I'm over here like, 'BRO'..."

"This clears up nothing."

"You ruined my crocs."

"Oh. Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a moment while Dew processes this new information.

"...In hindsight, that's... that's at least a little funny." he says, "...Who brushed my teeth?"

"Oh that was Aeth and Rainy, they had a hell of a time getting into your bathroom, so they took you to Cirrus' room and got you all cleaned up. That's where we got the shirt and the shorts."

Dew lifts the blankets and stares.

Pink with white polka dots... what kind of cursed wardrobe is Cirrus hiding in her bedroom?

"After that, Mount made some weird tea and made you drink it, which, like, I don't know what was in that stuff-"

"Peppermint and chamomile with a sprinkling of ginger and two ibuprofen on the side!" Mountain calls from the other side of the wall.

Swiss blinks, "Damn the walls in this place are thin..."

"Anyway, you drank, like, two cups of that and zonked out, and that's about it. Still embarrassed?"

"Little bit... Less now that I know what happened... that's the scariest part." Dew confesses, "...It's the idea that something happened and I don't remember, but other people do, combined with... I dunno, not being able to stop it from happening to begin with..."

"Well... maybe a trip to the doctor is in order to help with that last part." Swiss says, rubbing Dew's back, "...Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Dewboy."

"Love you, too."

"We all love each other, now go to bed already, some of us are trying to sleep!" Cirrus chimes in from across the hallway, sending a pillow through the open door.

"You're all ruining the moment!" Swiss complains.

"If everyone is awake right now, can someone get me a glass of water?" Sunny inquires.

"Didn't I already get you-"

Swiss gets up and closes the door.

"Bedtime?" he asks.

"Bedtime." Dew confirms, holding his arms out for Swiss to collapse back into.

[likecastle]

Cold sheets + ronance (please! xoxo)

I was going to write something sad for this, and then I remembered that I could just write smut LOL Thank you for this, dear @crushcandles! I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to everyone who's already sent me Stranger Things femslash prompts! I've already got a few more lined up, but please keep them coming! Explicit sex behind the cut. No serious warnings, although if the thought of someone putting their whole body weight on top of you isn't for you, maybe give this a miss. Also I guess it kind of vaguely counts as temperature play?

Robin wakes to find that the other side of the bed is still empty. When she slides her hand across the sheets, they’re cold under her fingers. If she listens carefully, she can hear the clatter of Nancy’s typing from the living room. So she’s still working, then, at—Robin squints at the luminous display of Nancy’s alarm clock—two-thirteen A.M.

Robin groans into her pillows and reaches blindly for the covers, which seem to have wandered off while she was asleep. The bedroom is surprisingly cold, the air raising goosebumps on the bare backs of Robin’s thighs. She rubs one socked foot against her ankle and whines. It’s not that it would be difficult to get up and pull the sheets off of the floor, it’s just that she’s loathe to give up what little warmth is left between her body and the mattress. Still half-asleep, she can’t stand the thought of getting all the way out of bed to retrieve the sheets, only to climb back in and find they’ve lost their last vestiges of heat. She’d much rather lie here and feel sorry for herself that Nancy’s not here to warm her up—just for a minute or two.

“OK?”

Robin cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, and can just barely make out Nancy standing in the dark doorway of the bedroom. She’s wearing Robin’s stretched-out old IU sweatshirt, which is oversized even on Robin, almost comical on Nancy.

“’S cold,” Robin mumbles, her sleep-muddled complaint coming out petulant.

Robin can practically hear Nancy’s amusement at her expense, but she just hunkers down against the mattress and says, “Someone should come warm me up.”

A moment later, the mattress sinks down beside her, and then Nancy is pressed against her back, so warm she’s almost a brand on Robin’s chilled skin.

“Like this?” Nancy murmurs into Robin’s hair.

“Mm-hmm.” The weight of Nancy’s whole body is delicious, pressing her hips against the mattress.

Nancy dips her head to nuzzle Robin’s neck and says, mock-saccharine, “Did you miss me?”

Robin whines again—pathetic in a different way, this time. “Uh-huh,” she says, and squirms a little for good measure.

Nancy laughs, and then slips one hand between, Robin’s body and the sheets, past her hip, finding the seam of her with unerring precision. “Is this what you want?” she breaths against Robin’s ear, her voice husky, not teasing anymore.

“Yeah,” Robin gasps, jumping under Nancy’s touch.

Nancy doesn’t hesitate after that, working Robin’s clit roughly in the tight space beneath her body. It’s unbelievable how fast Nancy can turn her on. Robin wasn’t even thinking about sex a minute ago, and now she’s aching for it, so eager for Nancy, and, fuck, it’s good, as she rocks her hips into Nancy’s touch, their combined weight bearing her down against the quick, sweet movement of Nancy’s fingers.

“Feeling warmer now?” Nancy asks, and all Robin can do is nod, sweating where Nancy’s breasts are pressed against her back, and slick between her clenched-together thighs. Her breath comes in shuddering gasps, flaring humid across the sheets. She feels wrapped up in Nancy, held, lit from the inside.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” Nancy breathes as she leans down to kiss Robin’s neck. “Kept telling myself that when I got to a stopping point, I’d come in here and wake you up so I could fuck you.”

Robin sobs, her cunt hot and tense under Nancy’s touch. Every inch of her skin tingles, and she feels sure if someone were watching, they’d see sparks crackling where she’s rubbing against the sheets.

“I can’t believe how good you looked, all sprawled out on the bed like that, waiting for me,” Nancy continues. “Almost makes me want to leave and come back, just so I can admire you some more.”

Robin fucks her hips back against Nancy’s hand, desperate for even more friction. “Nancy, please.”

“Please what?”

How can Nancy’s fingers move so quickly? Robin’s head is spinning, her hips trembling. “Please, please,” she gasps. She can’t remember what she was supposed to say.

Nancy’s breath is hot against her cheek. She’s hot, she’s so hot, she’s going to die of it, she’s sure. “Did you want to come?”

With a desperate shudder, that’s exactly what Robin does, a hot, slick clench against Nancy’s fingers, hips jerking helplessly. She feels Nancy buck on top of her, almost thrown off Robin’s back by the intensity of the tremor that shakes her.

“Oh, fuck,” Robin gasps, when she can breathe again. Nancy is still touching her, lazily now, with none of the wicked intent of a moment ago, just appreciating how luxuriously wet she is. “Fuck, Nance, you’re so good to me.”

Nancy kisses her hair, breathing in deep the scent of her sweat. “Not too heavy? Want me to get off of you?”

“Not yet,” Robin says, though her eyelids already drooping. “Just a little longer.”

[daisyful-gvf]

sweet as berries (part 8)

18+

*********************************************************

pairings: josh x reader

word count: 3.6k

notes: merry christmas!! i know it’s super late in the day (technically the next day), and that this part is a little disjointed, but i had to get this to y’all. love u all very much and i love berries josh. also there’s a lot of smut in here lmao enjoy

*very minimally edited sorry 🤪*

*********************************************************

-❄️🍓❄️-

He made good on his word—after you’d said ‘i love you’, the sex was somehow even better.

It was like he couldn’t stop saying it, between your thighs, into the crook of your neck, against your lips as he rolled himself against you. It poured from him, and he meant it every time.

You were no different, letting it gasp out of you every time his hands touched you a certain way, or when the dim light caught the highlights of his face, making him look like an angel.

You finally felt very close to him; some invisible boundary had been knocked down, and there was no shame, no hesitancy. When he fucked you, your skin touched everywhere, hot and electric. Your breath tangled with one another’s, his sweat dampened your hair, his tongue was learning you inside and out.

All the while, between gasps and groans and curses, now you could both say what you really felt— i love you. That night, he said it as he came, hips rolling hard against you, and you felt something shift. You needed him like water, now. There was really no point of return, and you were fine with it.

-❄️-

Josh didn’t really care for the cold. Ironic, being from Michigan, sure. True, nonetheless. He hated the way his teeth would chatter, how his skin felt sore from the bitter wind.

You were able to convince him to drive around and look at Christmas lights, though, as long as you let him keep the heat on full blast.

You’d each finished up the respective traditions with your family before he had picked you up. He met you at your family’s porch and walked you across the slick driveway, letting you clutch his arm. He was in sweats, dark green sweater, and a black, fuzzy scarf. You were glad he went the casual route, as you had too, opting for a large sweatshirt and yoga pants.

“Made us some spiced hot chocolates, sweet girl,” he pointed to them as he shut his door. You thanked him and took a sip, enjoying the trail of warmth it left through your body as you swallowed.

Despite the heater and the seat warmers, the Jeep was frigid. He breathed into his hands and rubbed them together. Quickly, you reached over and grabbed them, holding them in yours and breathing on them. He smiled.

“I missed you,” he grinned, leaning in for a long kiss.

“Saw you yesterday,” you said between kisses.

“Too long,” he answered back.

You chuckled, finally separating.

“Where to, little snowflake?” He smiled.

“Oh really?” you blushed, “Snowflake?”

“Mmhm,” he put the car in drive, “You’re special, remember? Like a snowflake.”

“S’cute,” you murmured, “Um, we can just drive through some neighborhoods nearby. I think most people have lights up by now,”

He nodded. “My hands are still fucking freezing,” he shivered.

“Here,” you took his right hand in yours and guided it to your thigh, just between your knees.

“Ooooh,” he sighed, “How are you so warm? You’re like a furnace,”

“Feminine power,” you laughed, “I dunno, my thighs are always warm.”

“Mm,” he rubbed his thumb against your leg, “I like it,”

His voice was low in a way you recognized.

“Christmas lights, Josh. Innocent, pretty Christmas lights.”

“I know, I know,” he murmured, “It’s just really warm between your legs. Makes me wanna…” he bit his lip, cutting himself off with a soft groan, “Nevermind. Christmas lights. Christmas lights.”

“Exactly,” you grinned.

He drove around for the better part of an hour, winding in and out of Frankenmuth’s charming neighborhoods. There was snow everywhere, and plenty of festive decor, and truly, you felt warm and fuzzy with it all.

“Look at those,” he would point out at certain lights, eyes gleaming like a child’s. His hand stayed buried between your knees for warmth, and you rubbed his forearm gently. You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

Finally, after you’d seen just about all of the lights you could find in the suburb, he began to make his way back to your apartment.

His hand squirmed slightly between your knees, and you began to wonder if it was really even cold anymore or if he just wanted to keep it there.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, because at a stop sign just outside of the neighborhood you’d left, he snuck a glance over to you and swallowed back a whine just late enough for you to hear it.

“Josh?” You asked softly. His head turned quickly to you, eyes slightly hooded.

“Yeah?” He breathed out.

You looked at his hand between your legs and then looked back silently inquiring.

“What?” he asked, voice low again.

“Are…”

“Berry, I’m sorry, I can’t—“ he gripped the innermost part of your thigh hard and looked at you with pathetic need, “You’re so warm here, I wanna touch you. Can I?”

Oh, he was impossible to resist. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Baby,” you said, “we’re like twenty minutes from my place, can you—“

“Please don’t make me wait, sweetheart, please,” he nudged his hand further up your thigh. “I will if you want, of course, I just…”

You knew he would never push you, and his begging was born solely of built up need. And god, did the thought of that make you positively crave him.

Wordlessly, you let your legs fall open for him.

“Oh, thank you, sweet girl, I…”

A whine sounded from the back of his throat and his hand slid slowly up to caress you. He sighed heavily as he cupped you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Make out with me, come here,” he pulled your head in with his free hand and you whimpered against the kiss.

Eagerly, you slid your tongue against his as he began to rub over you with some amount of pressure. You couldn’t feel anything too closely with the fabric between his hand and your body, but the touch still made your face flush. He was kissing back just as greedy, his lips quickly becoming slick and swollen.

“Back seat?” he whined into the kiss.

“Not here,” you breathed back, “We’re too close to houses“

“Fuck,” he sighed, “Okay, let me—“ he kissed you hard, “Let me pull off somewhere,”

You pulled away as he began to put the car in drive.

“You sure you don’t just wanna go to my place? It’s not—“

“Berry, I love you and I’m sorry to cut you off, but I’m so sure. I need you too bad to wait.”

He drove with his left hand and kept his right cupped against you, rubbing softly every so often as he would drive. He didn’t go too far, maybe two minutes away, but it was a much more secluded road.

The moment the car rolled to a stop, he put it in park and pulled you back against his mouth.

You were groaning now too, both at the electric brush of his soft lips and with the way he was coming apart.

“Back seat?” He asked again.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Yeah.”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned against your lips before breaking away hard and fast, wasting no time exiting the car and re-entering to the back seat.

You followed his lead, making your way out and back into the vehicle.

He helped you into his lap in the backseat, and immediately you could feel the hard outline of him against you as he pulled you into a kiss.

His hand—the warm one—flirted with your waistband.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded against him and he nodded back, softly sliding his hand into the front of your pants, under your cotton underwear. As his finger slipped against you, a groan vibrated from his chest.

“Fuck me, you’re so warm,” he wasted no time slipping two fingers inside you, curling them as he stared into your eyes. His were half-lidded and dark, his jaw slack as he fucked them slowly into you.

The fullness of his fingers made your head fall back, and a drawn out moan escaped you as he worked.

“Why’s my pretty girl so wet, hm?” He breathed into the crease of your neck. He peppered soft kisses to the fragile skin.

“You,” you rasped out.

“Mm, have you been waiting for this?”

You kept your head back, letting him lick at your neck.

“Maybe,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” he sounded cocky, and you hated that you loved it, “You just love my fingers, don’t you, pretty snowflake?”

“Fuck,” you hissed out. He was working quickly now, and the wet sounds of it filled the car, making you blush.

“Kiss me,” he said, tilting your chin to him with his free hand.

You kissed him hard, teeth bumping together. He groaned against you and gripped the back of your neck with a firm pressure.

“You think you can cum from just my fingers, Berry?” he breathed into your mouth.

You pulled and pressed your forehead to his. His fingers had you writhing and your vision blurring.

“Think so,” you nodded, “I’ll try,”

“Don’t try, sweetheart,” he kissed your cheek, “Just let it feel good. And tell me if you want something different,”

You nodded and let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Here,” he murmured, and brought his free hand to his mouth. He licked his thumb and brought it down to swirl easy circles over your clit. Your stomach tensed as the jolt of pleasure coursed through you.

“How’s that?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you sighed against him, “Keep going,”

“Oh I will,” he kissed your cheek again, “Pretty girl is soaking my fingers,”

“Josh,” your voice was pitched high and almost whiney, “Faster,”

He nodded and listened, quickening the pace of the fingers inside you. In a few moments, you felt breathless, teetering on the edge.

“Come on,” he rumbled near your ear, “Cum on my fingers, little snowflake. You know I love you. Know I just want you to feel good,”

With much too loud of a yelp, you were trembling and collapsing into him.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he removed his thumb and brought his hand up to your face, holding it gently so he could press kisses to your cheek and jaw.

You came back to him after a few deep breaths. He watched you with rapt attention, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Good?” he asked softly. You nodded dazedly and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I wanna be inside of you so bad, sweetheart,” He spoke quietly, lips brushing yours.

“Please,” you breathed.

“You’re too fucking sweet,” he sucked on your lower lip, “I should be the one begging, with how good you feel,” he curled his fingers, making his point. “C’mere,” he slid you back a couple inches on his lap, his fingers still inside you, allowing him to push his sweats down and pull himself free.

With some amount of struggling, you tugged your pants off so they hung only on one of your legs by the ankle.

As soon as you were settled, your hand wrapped around him almost on instinct, touching him languidly and pulling a shaky exhale from his chest.

For a moment, he continued dragging his fingers in and out of you as you stroked him slowly.

“When you’re ready, Berry,” he said, brows furrowed as he watched your hand over him.

You were very ready—you leaned forward and let him withdraw his fingers as you lined him up, sinking down and letting him stretch you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “Mm, warm me up, sweetheart,”

Your jaw dropped open as you ground against him. He cursed again and you whimpered at the full feeling. His hands gripped your ass as you began to move.

“Feels so good,” he breathed, looking up at you, “You’re so hot,”

A bashful laugh escaped you, but quickly you were cut off with a groan as he hit a spot deep in you.

“Sweet girl loves this, huh?” he grinned, “You like my cock, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Josh,” you huffed out, “Talk to me,”

“Mm, and say what, babe?” his lips dragged along your jaw line, “That you’re so fucking tight and warm I feel like I could cum already if I wanted to?”

“Yeah…” you breathed. You felt dizzy, and his words made the heat in your belly stronger.

“Or that I love how pretty and fucked out you look?” he stroked your hair, “Cause I do. You look so pretty, babe, riding me,”

“Jesus christ…” your breath was heavy as you slammed yourself down into him again and again.

“You wanna make me cum, huh sweetheart?” He thumbed over your lip, “Fucking me so good,”

“Josh, I—please,” you groaned. You had no idea what you were asking for, but the way he was speaking to you was driving you insane.

“I’ll cum for you, babe, just keep—“ his breath hitched, “—Fuck, just like that, Berry. Kiss me.”

Your mouth crashed into his, urgent and messy. Soon, he was death gripping your hips, releasing into you and bringing you along with him.

Through the steamed up windows, you could still see the glow of Christmas lights in the distance.

-❄️-

Waking up to Josh, all soft brown curls, creamy skin, dark eyelashes—was single handedly better than any Christmas present. As you came out of sleep, you watched him, and you ran a finger through the ringlet curl at his forehead.

Your parents had agreed to let you both do your own Christmas festivities as long as it was early enough in the morning to still make it to breakfast at their house. And you were grateful, because what a fucking way to start one of your favorite days of the year.

“Merry Christmas,” you spoke softly against his cheek, pressing a kiss to it after. His lashes fluttered as he stirred slightly, slowly blinking open his eyes. Your chest physically ached as they focused on you, warm amber gaze.

“Hey,” he said back, voice rasping from sleep, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,”

His lips tugged into a sleepy smile and suddenly you had to kiss him. You straddled him, careful not to be too rough with him just waking up, and settled against his lips. He hummed against you, arms wrapping around your torso, letting you lean against him fully.

“Love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“Oh, I love you,” he said back, holding your face in his hands and pressing kisses to it, “What a nice way to wake up, hmm?”

You nodded and kissed him again.

“Wanna make coffee and do presents?” You asked against his cheek.

“Yeah,” he agreed, nuzzling his face to yours, “Wanna do other things too, but that can wait,”

You laughed, “Yeah, it’ll have to wait. We have places to be, sweet boy,”

He gave a full grin at the name, “Alright,” he sighed, “Kiss me slow one more time, Berry,”

Without a moment of hesitation, you leaned forward and kissed him, slotting your lips together. His hand settled on the back of your head and kept you pressed to him, and the slow drag of his tongue over your bottom lip was addicting.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay in bed for a bit?” He asked, his voice a low buzz against your mouth.

Your breath was shaky as his other hand trailed slowly down your waist, over your ass. He gripped gently, rolling you down into him, making his breath stutter.

“We shouldn’t, babe, we have to…” you whimpered as he sucked on your bottom lip.

“I know,” he kissed you again, “But doesn’t it sound nice?”

His voice was working and he knew it; so low and sleepy and turned on. He was coaxing you into the idea even though you were serious—there was no extra time.

The hand he had on your ass trailed around to the front of you, pressing against the front of your sleep shorts. Your eyes rolled at the contact.

“You don’t wanna come sit on my face for a little bit?” He murmured, “I’ll treat her so sweet,”

“Josh…” it left you in a shaky breath.

“I know, baby. Come here. Let me,” he lifted himself up so he could slide down the bed, reclining fully. He motioned you upwards and you hesitated only a moment, considering the scolding you’d get for being late to family breakfast.

But his eyes, god, how they looked when he was aroused. And his flushed cheeks, and his messy hair—

You slid your shorts off and climbed up on him.

“Look at you,” he kissed your thighs as you settled over his face, “This is the best present you could give me, sweetheart,” he murmured, gripping the tops of your thighs, asking you to lower yourself.

Immediately, his velvet tongue made you whimper. He laughed softly at the pathetic noise, and lapped at you again.

You came apart for him like that, thighs shaking as he got you there. Then, he fucked you slow, in the daze and glow of the morning light filtering through the blinds.

-❄️-

After a quick shower and more making out, you settled in the living room, on the soft carpet near the christmas tree. You each donned a cup of coffee and matching christmas pajamas that you’d picked up the week prior. A vintage holiday vinyl you’d thrifted crooned low in the background.

You’d agreed to keep presents small—with Josh primarily making his money from a gig here and there, and you working off tips from a coffee shop, there was no need for extravagance.

“Look at Pepper,” he smiled, nodding towards your cat. She was swatting at a golden bulb of an ornament, nearly knocking it off the tree. You giggled at it, watching her play.

“She’s easily entertained,”

“Pepper and I have that in common, I guess,” he grinned, sipping his coffee. “Here, Berry, you start,”

He reached for one of the few presents under the tree. It was wrapped in a snowflake-covered paper, a small box about the size of your palm.

You unwrapped it with an exciting sort of anxiety buzzing in your fingertips, wondering what sorts of things he’d picked out—you didn’t have lists to go off of.

Quickly, you could tell it was jewelry. You opened the small gold box to reveal a dainty gold toned necklace with a small, tear dropped shaped pendant.

“It’s, um,” he smiled, “It’s strawberry quartz. Ya know, cause,” he flipped his hand up in a shrugging motion and giggled.

Your smile spread wide all on its own.

“I love you,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was mostly just smiling with your lips barely pressed together, but you didn’t mind.

“Your turn,” you grinned, passing him one of the presents.

He ripped open the paper after complimenting you on the wrapping job.

“Berry!” he exclaimed, “How’d you find this?”

He spun the John Denver vinyl around in his hands, reading over the back of it in awe.

“Luck,” you smiled.

“Ah, Rocky Mountain Christmas. How perfect,” he grinned, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Alright,” he handed you the next gift and sipped his coffee as you opened it.

It was another smaller package, a little bigger than your hand. You unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small, cream-colored photo album. Your breath hitched even before you opened it.

The inner cover had a message written in gold pen.

To my Berry,

Merry Christmas. I love you and cherish you always.

-Josh

“Babe…” you smiled wildly.

“I actually had written that before you said ‘i love you’ the other day,” he grinned, “So technically, I beat you to it.”

You laughed and began to turn the pages.

He watched you closely, face full of affection, as you flipped through it. Even before he explained, you understood.

“They’re from the disposable camera,” he said softly, “From Halloween.”

You nodded, taking it in. The photo of him holding your hand in the pumpkin patch, of your bracelets from the gift shop, of you smiling. The way he saw you seemed so pure, you could not help the tears in your eyes.

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” you breathed, setting it down to wrap him in a hug as you blinked away the tears, “I love it. Thank you,”

He hummed and kissed your cheek.

“Okay, babe, we probably need to hurry,” you handed him his other present. He nodded, tearing it open.

“Oh, wow,” he smiled, holding up the bandana.

“It’s vintage,” you smiled.

“This is so cool, Berry,” he turned the burnt orange fabric over gently in his hands, tracing over the paisley pattern, “Thank you,” he pulled your face in for another kiss, “I love it.”

“One more,” you handed him the last present.

“You got me three, Berry? Trying to make me feel bad?”

“Oh hush,” you smiled, “This one didn’t cost money, so we’re even.”

He bit his lip as he opened the gift. He gasped softly as he revealed it.

“Oh, you know me well,” he smiled, holding up the CD, “My girl made me a mixtape, huh?”

You nodded, grinning, “You are a musician, Josh, don’t give me too much credit.”

“That I am,” he grinned. He read the handwritten tracklist you’d written on it, “How’d I get a hot girlfriend that also has great taste in music?”

“I dunno,” you hugged him, toppling him over to the ground. He giggled and set the CD down, “Guess you better keep treating her nice and maybe she’ll stay.”

“You just use me for orgasms and I know it, Berry.”

“I can do that on my own, Josh,” you kissed his cheek, “You are pretty good for that, though,”

“Oh, shut up,” he laughed, pulling you in against his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he said softly, “This has been the best Christmas morning I’ve had in a while,”

“Me too,” you kissed him softly, “Merry Christmas, babe.”

-❄️🍓❄️-

taglist:

@starshine-wagner @writingcold @kels-gvf @aconfusedhippie @fearless-wanderer @thehourbeforesunrise @madz-0217 @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @rhythm-of-space @milkgemini @st4rdust-ch0rds @myownparadise96 @gretavanfleas @josh-iamyour-mama @spark-my-nature @saltydogkiszka @jordierama @sammiejane22 @jakekiszkastaurussuit @babyhoneygvf @gabyvanfleet @gretavanslut @dannyandthekiszkas @freckled-wonder

[ladylooch]

Okay. So, miles is out for a while now sick. How kailey would take care of him and then her reaction to him still not being okay. She worries, she forces him to go to the doctor ? What she does ?

-👢

When Miles came home from Dallas last week, Kailey had been fast asleep, clutching at his pillow. She barely even registered him sneaking into their master closet, dropping off his suitcase, then heading to the guest bedroom. He had been under the weather before he left, but Kailey chalked it up as a case of man cold. Miles has a history of being a bit on the dramatic side when he is ill, encouraged by being the baby of three older siblings who loved to coddle him.

Kailey realized it wasn’t a man cold when she awakens the next morning and Miles isn’t with her. She had poked her head into the guest room, looking at Miles curled up on his side, hands gripping his opposite biceps, holding himself in a cocoon of blankets. Kailey put her hand on his forehead, gasping at how warm he is.

“Babe?” She whispered. Miles had shuddered, ripping his hot head away from her hand. “You are burning up.”

“Get out.” Miles croaks. “Don’t want you getting this.” 

“Miles-”

“Baby, I am dead serious. Get out. Leave the Tylenol outside the door.” He tucks his mouth into his sweatshirt, coughing extensively. 

Miles doesn’t attend practice the next day and misses the following game. When he misses his second game in five days, Kailey becomes stressed. The Avs doctor’s diagnosed him with Influenza B and gave him Tamiflu, which then made Miles throw up. They then switched him to a different flu medicine yesterday, but progress has been too slow for her. She is miserable watching him sick like this. 

Currently, she is standing outside the door, listening to him cough inside. She turns the door handle, pushing the door open and standing in the doorway. She puts her hand on her bump, stroking it for comfort as Miles coughs again. 

“Kails.” Miles groans. “How many times do I have to ask you to take this seriously?”

“I am, but I need to see you.” She whispers. Miles rolls over towards her, studying her worried expression.

“Just relax.” He says gently. “The stress isn’t good for you two.” Miles watches as Kailey’s beautiful green eyes begin to shine, a thick line of tears forming on her lower lid.

“I’m scared, M. I’ve never seen you like this.” Her bottom lip trembles.

“I’m getting better now, babe. Don’t worry. You’ve been taking good care of me.” He encourages her. Although Miles has not been letting her into the guest room, Kailey has been leaving him things outside the door including homemade chicken noodle soup, popsicles, Tylenol, and little post-its of encouragement. She also had to go to her last appointment alone, but was able to grab a new sonogram for him to inspect.

He has my nose for sure, Miles had texted Kailey an hour later. Shortly after, she heard his heavy snores from where she sat outside the door, needing to be comforted by the sound of him breathing.

“I really need to feel you.” 

Miles kicks the covers off, sticking out his sock-covered foot for her. Kailey goes to the end of the bed, grabbing his foot in her hand. She holds it for a moment, looking at the Nike swoosh along the ridges of his toes. Then she slides her hand up his sweatpants to his hairy ankle, wrapping her fingers around it. Two tear tracks fall down from each of her eyes. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, then sits up, keeping himself behind her body. He buries his nose into her spine, reaching around to hold the baby with one big paw. He kisses along her clothed back. The baby kicks against Miles, the first kick Kailey has felt all day. She smiles down, squeezing his ankle tighter in her hand as a ‘thank you’ for the weakness her tears bring him.

[age-of-greta]

The Moon

The Moon represents illusion and deception, and therefore often suggests a time when something is not as it appears to be. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself.

Author’s note: hi!! first off, sorry for the delay. I had this scheduled to post a midnight, but something went wrong. I debated waiting to post it until next week, but decided to just go ahead. Here is a very special playlist, that will be updated as I keep writing. anywho, I proofread but typos happen. There is not a strict posting schedule for this fic, but all parts will be posted on Wednesday at midnight. So excited for you all to read this chapter!! Enjoy :)

Parings: Sam x reader & Jake x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, adult content

Word count: 4.7k

PART 2:

The hangover wasn’t kind. Your head was pounding, your body felt sluggish, and your stomach was whirling. You decided to rip yourself out of bed and grab a glass of water and advil. Then you threw your hair up in a clip and ran a hot shower. You ended up sitting down in the shower, letting the warm water envelop your whole body. Immediately you started feeling slightly better. Now you just needed a coffee and a bagel and you figured it would square the rest away. After you got out of the shower you threw on a thin white tank top and some black cotton underwear. You ordered your favorite coffee and bagel to be delivered to your doorstep while you started on your skincare routine. About twenty minutes later there was a knock on your door. You knew it was your coffee, so you waited about three minutes before answering as you were in your underwear. You unclipped your hair and brushed it out while you waited. Then you walked to the door with the most pep in your step that you had all day. Only when you opened your door, it wasn’t coffee. You were face to face with Sam and Danny.

“Oh uh.” Danny says, taking in your presence quickly and turning away. Sam did something similar but looked every so slightly longer.

“Shit. Fuck.” You say, hyper aware now of your lack of clothes. “One sec.” You say, running back to your room.

You grab a pair of athletic shorts and fastly drag them up your hips before grabbing a sweatshirt and throwing it on over your tank. Then you slip on your smiley face slippers and go back to the door.

You try to swallow your embarrassment before opening the door. Again, you’re face to face with Sam but this time he has your coffee and bagel bag in his hand.

“Sorry. I thought you guys were-“ You glance down at the items in Sam’s hands. “Well that.”

“All good.” Sam smiles, handing you your order.

You usher them inside and sit your order down on your coffee table. “So… what’s up?”

“I texted you.” Danny says.

You realized your phone was still in your bag on the table, probably dead now.

“I haven’t been on my phone at all today. Sorry I’m a mess.” You say bashfully.

Danny gives you a grin. “You are.” He says as he tosses your keys to you.

Then you realize why they’re here. Danny had driven your car over for you. He was truly the most kind person you had ever met.

You catch your keys and return the grin. “Thank you.”

“So can we get a tour?” Danny asks, glancing around at your place.

You plop down on your couch. “Yes, but first I need some sustenance to revive me.”

The first sip of coffee is comparable to an orgasm. It hits exactly where it needs to. You notice Sam staring at your coffee. You feel as if he’s about to tease you on your order.

“What?” You ask, shrugging your shoulders.

“What is that?” Sam asks.

“It’s an iced hazelnut latte with oat milk and cold foam.” You reply.

Sam nods his head. “It looks good. I need a coffee place around here. Can you text me the name?”

“Yeah for sure. This place is great, but they’re a vegan store only, so no cows milk.” You reply.

Sam smiles at that. “Even better.”

You make a surprised face at him. “You’re vegan?”

Sam ponders before answering. “Sometimes. Mostly I’m just a pescatarian. Though I do not consume cow milk, like at all.”

You make a surprised face at this revelation. “No way. I don’t believe you.”

You look at Danny for assurance and he nods. “Oh yeah, he is. Trust me he will tell you every thirty seconds.”

You laugh at him, a bit astonished. “Wow.”

Sam furrows his brows. “Why is that so hard to believe? You know I love animals.”

You nod your head. “Yeah I know, you know I do too. Which is why it’s so weird- because I’m literally exactly the same way. I’ve been a pescatarian for over a year now.”

Sam smirks at you. “I have been for almost two years now, but that’s awesome. What a strange coincidence.”

“Very.” You say, biting into your bagel.

You guessed it made sense. Since you were both kids you and Sam loved animals. You two were always bringing in strays and finding them homes. Hell, three out of the four dogs your parents had were products of your rescue efforts. One of them you and Sam rescued together from a Walmart parking lot.

Danny made a fake groan. “Now Sam has a partner in crime when being annoying at restaurants.”

You laughed at that while Sam rolled his eyes.

You quickly finished your bagel and took a few gulps of iced coffee before starting your grand tour. First you showed them the living room you were already in. You had a mid-sized beige couch with colorful pillows strewn about, and a vintage velvet green sitting chair. Then there was a clear glass coffee table with various thrifted table books and decoration, under a zebra rug.

“Eclectic. I dig it.” Danny says admiring the art on your walls.

You walk over to the furthest wall and start to present what is over there. “And this is-“

“The completely unorganized records I presume?” Sam asks, with a smirk.

“Yes.” You say through a laugh. “But there are also books on here.”

“Still a bookworm huh.” Sam says, a statement rather than a question.

“Nerd.” Danny teases.

You don’t acknowledge either of their statements and instead continue on to your kitchen. You show them your navy cabinets and your diy bar cart that you made out of an old 70’s tv. Then show them your bedroom, which is more muted compared to the rest of your home. It’s more neutral tones, with only pops of burnt orange, rusty pink, and maroon. But they’re impressed by the disco ball planters scattered about.

“Holy shit. Is this real?” Danny asks, picking up a vintage Gibson Les Paul that’s in the corner of your room.

“Yes. I found it at a consignment shop. Got a good deal on it, the guy didn’t know what he was sitting on.”

“Jake would be in heaven with this thing. He’s going to freak out when he sees it.” Danny says, still admiring the instrument.

That’s sort of the reason you had bought it, but you would never admit that. Sam didn’t look too impressed with the guitar, which seemed strange to you.

You shuffle them out of your room and take them to the bathroom. It was painted dark green with white tiles. There was a colorful shower curtain with peacocks on it and a fuzzy pink seashell bath mat. You had art on the walls and plenty of hanging plants, as they would thrive in here with the moisture. Your laundry room was merely a closet, but it worked for you.

“That’s about it.” You say, closing the laundry door.

“Very nice. I like it a lot.” Danny says.

“Are you kidding? It’s incredible. You should pick up interior design.” Sam compliments.

You smile at that. “Thanks, but most people do not enjoy this style. We are very much stuck in the farmhouse era.”

Both of them make a fake gag which makes you laugh.

“Well, thank you for the tour. We have to meet thing one and thing two and head over to the studio to sit down with some executives for something new we’re working on.” Danny says.

“Oh that’s exciting. Thank you guys for bringing my car, I really do appreciate it.” You reply.

Danny waves you off. “Don’t mention it. Maybe we can all meet for dinner later?”

You nod your head. “Sounds good.”

They turn to leave and Danny is first out the door. Sam goes to shut your door, giving you a nod and you notice his eyes linger ever so slightly on you. Odd.

**

The rest of your day consisted of cleaning and recovering from last night’s events. First, you did all of your laundry while listening to various old records. Then, you ate a sandwich and carrots. Next you tidied up your living room and kitchen, making sure to wipe and clean all surfaces. After all of the chores were done you decided to run yourself a hot bath. A bath was part of your usual self care Sunday ritual, you didn’t plan on breaking that. You let the hot water run for a while before adding essential oils and bubble bath. You lit some scented candles and grabbed a book before turning the lights off and sinking into pure bliss. Around twenty minutes later you were jolted from your peace when your phone, which you had set on the charger, kept ringing. You groaned, but got up dried off thinking there may be some emergency. When you get to your phone you see that your friend Margo is blowing up your phone. You furrowed your eyebrows and went to call her back, but then she was calling you again.

“Hello?” You say, a little strangely.

“Hey bitch! Did you mean to stand me up?”

You stare off confused for a second- oh shit. You had totally stood her up. You were supposed to grab lunch with her, but it had completely slipped your mind.

Margo was your best friend from college. First she was just your random roommate, but you grew to love her within days. Her chaotic energy often reminded you of Josh, which is why you had assumed you were so drawn to her. Your friendship was cemented the first week of college when Margo had stolen a bottle of vodka and brought it back to your dorm to share. That drunken night had made you two as thick as thieves. Ever since then Margo had been by your side.

“Oh fuck. I am so so sorry Margo, I completely forgot. I went out last night and my brain has been out of it.” You reply.

“Huh? You went out? With who? Nevermind, just open your door.”

Then the phone hangs up. You place your phone down on the coffee table and walk to your door. When you open it Margo is standing on the other side.

“Finally. I came over to make sure you hadn’t been murdered then I found out you’re living your best life without me.” Margo says, as she charges in.

You huff a laugh. “Nothing like that. I told you my cousin was moving here and I helped them get situated and they wanted to go out.”

“They?” Margo asks, giving you a sideways look.

“Yes, his three friends.”

You hadn’t told Margo much about the boys at all. It never felt natural to bring up your relationship and you didn't want to explain all of the complexities of it.

Margo hummed in response. “Are they cute?”

You rolled your eyes at her while she laughed.

“Well you owe me dinner at least. I haven’t seen you in a week. I swear my boss hates me because I am the only one who has to constantly travel to the office in Florida. I wish I had your job.” Margo says, slumping on your couch.

Margo worked for an investment firm. She had been a finance major and it was scary how good she was at math. You were the opposite. You had always been the english student, so in college Margo did your math while you wrote her papers. You worked at a small local publishing firm in Nashville. You loved your job and all of the freedoms that came with it. Honestly, you couldn’t have asked for anything better for you. You worked from home three days a week and sometimes you would come to the office for pitches. You already had your clients that you worked with and you communicated weekly through emails and Zoom. The only time your work was stressful was the week of a new release. Then you worked 24/7 seven days a week, but to you it was worth it. Last week you had just launched one of your clients new books, so your workload was about to wind down immensely.

You plop down next to her still only in your towel on the couch. “I take it you didn’t enjoy your tropical vacation?” You tease.

Margo lets out an abrasive laugh. “Tropical? More like a murky hellscape. There isn’t even a beach, it’s a goddamn swamp.”

You giggle at that. “We could do dinner tonight. Pizza?”

“You read my mind.” Margo says with a smile.

Then your phone rings. Margo picks it up and half glances down at it, at first she goes to hand it to you but then jerks it back.

“Who is Jake? Why is there no last name? Is it a guy from the bar?” She asks.

You groan and jerk your phone from her almost frantically. “No. He’s friends with my cousin.”

You glance down and compose yourself before answering.

“Hey Birdie. Sleep well?” Jake coos on the other end of the line.

“After about a gallon of water, yes. Did you?” You ask back.

Jake lets out a small chuckle which makes your stomach flop. “I did, had some sweet dreams.”

You swallow a lump in your throat.

“Anyway” Jake continues. “Would you like to go to dinner tonight at 7? Josh is wanting us to go to some sushi place.”

“That sounds great, but my friend and I are supposed to grab pizza.” You respond.

Jake pauses for a moment. “Friend?”

“Yes, from college. Her name is Margo.”

“Oh. Well bring Margo. I’ll text you the address. See you at 7 Birdie.”

Before you can even respond the line goes dead. He wasn’t giving you the option to say no. Your phone pings and Jake had texted you the address and:

Looking forward to seeing you.

You huff and look up at Margo who is eyeing you very suspiciously.

“What?” You ask.

She shakes her head at you. “Nothing.” She replies innocently.

“So dinner plans may have changed.” You say.

She smirks at you. “I know I heard. I also heard your voice make a tone I never knew existed.”

**

After a few hours of self care and getting ready you and Margo were about to pull up outside of the restaurant. You were wearing a pair of light wash mom jeans riddled with holes and frays with a black tube top and black heels. You had on sparkly body oil that complimented your tan and sprayed your sweet perfume on everything. You blew your hair out and applied a good amount of makeup. You had on a set of stacked bracelets, a small gold necklace with a vintage coin on it, and zebra print square earrings. Margo had been teasing you that you had gotten so “dressed up” but she knew you were a girly girl. She didn’t know that her suspicions were one hundred percent correct. Margo went more casual, opting for jeans, sneakers, and a cropped t-shirt. Her faded pink hair was up in a clip and her signature thick eyeliner was just as perfect as ever.

“Let's go.” Margo says as she puts her car into park.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and quickly pull down the mirror to do a face check. Then you step out of the car and walk towards the entrance. Margo links arms with you as you waltz into the waiting area.

“Well shit this seems nice.” She says, taking in the ambiance.

You do a quick scan of the room and you have to agree. It seems more upscale but not too fancy.

“Holy fuck.” Margo says tugging on your arm.

“What?”

“Look over there. In the corner booth.” She says, still gripped onto your arm.

You see the guys over there, already with drinks in hand.

Margo continues. “I think that’s Greta Van Fleet. They’re like this rock band. I saw them on SNL.”

You let out a laugh. Sometimes you forget that they’re kind of famous.

“I know.” You say.

Margo looks at you strangely. “Should we go say hi?”

You look back at her and press your lips into a line. “We will. Danny, the drummer or whatever, is my cousin.”

Margo furrows her brows at you. “No fucking way. What the fuck?”

She drags you immediately to the women’s bathrooms to the left. When you get inside she still has a hold of your arm.

“Y/n are you serious right now?” Margo asks, still bewildered.

You huff a laugh. “Yeah. I didn’t know you had heard of them. It’s weird for me to talk about it. To me, they’re just Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh. We all grew up together.”

Margo releases your arm. “Damn. You didn’t think to tell me that you were friends with a rock band?”

You shrug. “It never came up.”

“Oh yeah right. That’s like me taking you to my house and Vin Diesel is my dad.” Margo huffs out.

“You and your weird obsession with Vin Diesel.” You say.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” She replies.

You let out a sigh. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you listened to them.”

“I mean I don’t really. Like I said, I saw them on SNL. It’s just insane that you didn’t tell me. But I guess we love a humble queen.” She says through a cracked smile.

You return the same smile and grab her hand. “Come on.”

When you two exited the bathroom you walked straight over to the booth in the corner. You looked directly at Jake, who you saw look you up and down while you were approaching.

“Hey guys. This is my friend Margo.” You say as you scoot in next to Sam in the booth.

They all say their hellos and introductions- Margo was navigating it like a champ.

“You look nice.” Jake says, giving you a small smirk.

“Thank you.” You say, giving him a full smile.

Sam clears his throat. “So, the spicy tuna looks good. What are you getting Birdie?”

“Hmmm.” You ponder. “I’m probably going to have to go with a shrimp tempura roll and some miso soup.”

“Excellent choice.” Josh beams in. “Everyone except Samuel care to split some beef potstickers?”

You look over at Sam and give him a small laugh and he returns the same laugh, while Danny playfully rolls his eyes.

Josh gives you two a side-eye as does Jake. “What?’

“I don’t eat any meat other than fish. So, the same as Sam.” You say in an amused tone.

Josh groans, before dramatically letting out. “Oh Birdie not you too!”

Jake chuckles at his antics and shakes his head.

You laugh at him. “Sorry to disappoint. My moral compass is bigger than my stomach.”

“So pretentious.” Margo jokingly says. “I, however, would love some beef potstickers.” She says flashing Josh a smile.

Josh smiles at her back. “Perfect. I guess we will order the veggie potstickers for the morally superior Birdie and Sam.”

You huff a laugh. “So kind Josh. Thank you.”

Margo interjects. “I have a question here. Why do you guys call her Birdie?”

**

Dinner had gone really well. The food was delicious, conversations were flowing, and laughs were had. You were now all finishing up, Jake picked up the whole tab. You thanked him, he smiled a smile that made you melt.

“Are we down to go grab some drinks?” Danny suggested.

You started to shake your head. “Not for me. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Come on Birdie. It will be fun.” Jake pokes.

Margo interjects. “Plus you work from home.”

You give her a glare.

Sam nudges you and gives you a smile, egging you on.

You huff. “Okay. But only like one drink. I really do have to work, even if it’s from home.”

“One drink. We promise.” Josh says, but he’s crossing his fingers blatantly in front of you.

You and Margo follow Josh’s jeep to a bar right down the street from the restaurant. It was more of a “Nashville” style bar with neon signs and an electric bull. Not typically your vibe, but it would do. Immediately when you all got inside there was loud country music playing. Especially not your vibe. As soon as you and Margo made it to the bar Josh already had a round of drinks for everyone. He was fast.

“To us!” He announced, as you all clinked your cups.

You laughed and knocked back the drink, hoping it would get you out of there quicker. But, Sam was right behind you with a vodka soda with two limes. You accepted the drink but made a fake scowl at him. He laughed at your efforts then leaned down into your ear.

“Say thank you. I could tell Jake was about to grab some bullshit and hand it to you.”

You laughed at that and nodded your head.

Margo and Josh were deep in a conversation about something. You you spun around to look for Jake but he and Danny were off chatting with two girls.

Oh.

They had on sparkly cowgirl boots and feathery hats. Then you watched one giggle and throw her hat on Jake. You could vomit. You were ready to leave.

You shook Margo’s shoulder. “Hey are you ready?” You say, eyeing her drink.

She looked back at you. “Hm? Oh yeah. Give me a sec. Gonna go pee.”

“I’ll gladly come with you.” You said.

“No no. It will be quick.” She said shooing you off.

You made a face and watched her prance towards the bathroom. Strange? You decided to keep your eyes away from the sparkly cowgirls and stare off at the neon signs.

“You good?”

You look over and Sam is by your side again.

You force a smile back on your face. “Yeah. This place just isn’t really my vibe.”

Sam let out a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. This place sucks. It’s-“ he pauses and looks around, staring straight at the sparkly cowgirls. “Tacky.”

You laughed at that, it made you feel a little bit better.

“You know, I’m not sure how practical rhinestone boots are when you’re out on the range.”

You laugh at that, yet again. “Are you a pro at what you need on the range?”

Sam then puts on a thick southern accent and fake tips a hat towards you. “Why yes ma’am I am.”

You snort at that. “Sorry Sam, but you’re giving more of Brokeback Mountain.”

He lets out an unexpected laugh. “No, I think they’re the ones giving us Brokeback Mountain.”

Sam points at Jake and Danny in their sparkly pink feathered hats. You can’t help but bark a laugh at that. Even though you were in a bad mood, Sam had managed to soften it. You glance around and realize it’s been a while since Margo had come back.

“Be right back.” You say to Sam, sitting down your now empty drink.

You head off towards the bathroom. Some pigs whistle at you as you pass them. Gross. But once inside Margo is nowhere to be found. You feel a small panic erupt, so you pull out your phone and call her. She answers almost immediately.

“Where are you?” You spit out.

Margo lets out a small laugh. “Okay don’t hate me. I’m driving home.”

A scowl breaks out across your face. “What? Why would you leave me?”

“Because! I didn’t want to ruin your night. I actually do have to go to the office tomorrow. And to be candid Birdie, I can tell you really have a thing for Jake. So here’s some more time for you two together.”

You’re flabbergasted. “What? First of all, no I do not have a thing for Jake. Second of all, how could you just leave me here with no ride?”

“Relax drama queen. I already told Josh I was leaving, he’s taking you home.”

You huff into the phone.

“Get out of the bathroom and go back and have some fun, kid. I love you! I’ll text you when I’m home!” Margo says.

Then the call is over. You huff again, still irritated. But eventually get over it and head back out. The two guys who had whistled at you were now congregating just outside of the bathroom. You tried to squeeze through them.

“Oh come on baby. Where ya going?” One of them says to you, stepping way too close.

“Not interested.” You say, trying to be somewhat civil.

“Hard to get? I like.” Another one chimes in.

“Fuck off.” You mutter, still trying to pass by.

But they won’t move.

“Get the fuck out of my way.” You say.

They still don’t budge. “Come on baby, we just wanna know your name.”

You’re losing your patience, but also getting extremely uncomfortable. “Hey assholes, I am here with four guy friends. They will kick the shit out of you so fucking let me pass!”

“Birdie?”

You glance over and there’s Jake heading towards you. Thank god. He makes his way over to you with concern plastered on his expression. You can see Sam nearby.

“Everything okay?” He asks, shifting his gaze between you and the two guys.

Before you can answer one of them begins to speak. “All is well man. We’re just chatting over here.”

Jake makes a face at him. “Was I fucking talking to you?”

You grab Jake’s shoulder. “Come on, let's go. They’re not worth it.”

Jake stands still for a moment, eyes fixated on the guys before reluctantly beginning to move with you. Sam is still close by.

“Tell us! Does the carpet match the drapes?” One of them yells.

Then Jake is spun around again. “What the fuck did you say?”

They laugh in response.

“Jake” You say, still grabbing him. “Not worth it. They’re pigs.”

Again, he’s like a statue. He doesn’t want to turn around and for a moment you think it’s about to get out of hand.

“Fuck you!” He yells at them.

Their laughing continues, but again he reluctantly starts to move with you.

“Nah buddy. The question is does she let all of you fuck her at the same time? Or just one by one?”

That was it.

Jake spun around on his heels heading straight over there, but before he even made it within arm's reach Sam had punched the one who was speaking straight in his face.

Down he went.

Then Jake is punching the other one.

Fuck.

The fighting went on for a solid minute before Danny and Josh were there to break it up.

“What the fuck!?” Josh exclaims pulling Jake off of one of the guys.

“Keep talking motherfucker!” Jake yells.

“I’m good. I’m good.” Sam says, as Danny has a hold of him.

Josh keeps on looking at the scene in disbelief, but then you see security heading over.

“Let’s go. Like right fucking now.” You say firmly, tipping your head towards the men approaching.

“Fuck.” Josh says, grabbing Jake and dragging him with him.

Jake spits on the guy on the ground one last time.

Then you’re all shuffling fast out of the side exit into an alley. You fast walk towards the car and then Josh stops everyone.

“Someone wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?”

Jake and Sam glance at one another, neither saying anything.

Sam looks over at you, in worry, as if asking if you’re okay.

You nod him off. You know neither of them would dare repeat the vile shit that was just said inside of that bar.

Finally Jake breaks the silence.

“Some people” he starts, wiping blood from his knuckles. “have no manners.”

Josh and Danny slowly catch on. You know they don’t know the details, but assume it had to do with harassing you.

Josh lets out a sigh. “Got it. Get in.”

He unlocks his jeep. Then you’re shoved in the back, right in between Jake and Sam.

This was somewhere you would find yourself often.

**

•thanks for reading!!!

[vivianette]

Suddenly thinking about slightly delirious, feverish shuji and how soft he is for you. All his confessions and insatiable craving for your warmth by his side 🥺🥺🥺🥺

🍓AN: phewhueheue babe this thought occupied my mind for so long that I rambled on about ths that’s why this got so long for no fucking reason🥹🫶 NOT Proof-read or even thought through tbh😭

🍓Synopsis: hanma is stupid and he gets stupidly cute when he’s sick

🍓Pairing: hanma shuji x female reader

🍓Warnings: none,ooc sappy hanma cuz that’s how I like him

You struggle to open the door to shuji’s apartment with the heavy tote bag you’re carrying, careful to not move too fast for the contents inside to spill. Finally getting successful, you enter inside as you easily navigate through the small living space to your boyfriend’s bedroom where he is laying down with his eyes squeezed shut. Seeing your usually hyper boyfriend fatigued on his bed with his right arm thrown over his forehead, trying to breathe comfortably through his stuffy nose made you think that he may be known as the “reaper” of Kabukicho, feared by many but he’s still your sick, very human, boyfriend who needs your tending.

Shaking your head you walk over to his bed putting the bag down. Quietly sitting at his bed side on the floor. He didn’t even notice your presence until you softly called out his name “hey baby” you say while gently moving away the hair strands stuck to his forehead by sweat. He lifts his arm “Y/N?” He looks at you through glassy eyes and with your free hand you hold his “yes baby?” You reply, all your attention on him. “My throat hurts” he says, almost whines, his voice hoarse, gently squeezing your hand in his much larger ones. You nod at him, feeling the heat radiating from his forehead on the back of your hand. You find him burried underneath a mountain of sweatshirts and hoodies, you look at him again,an eyebrow raised “your blanket?” “Couldn’t find it” he coughs closing his eyes again. You could tell he’s exhausted. The common cold could be a bitch if not dealt with properly and shuji being shuji ignored the symptoms of catching one “you worry too much babe,I don’t get colds” he shrugged you off a few days earlier when you warned him about the seasons changing and how he should dress accordingly but when does he ever listen. Maybe you jinxed it, he’d say if he wasn’t so tired out

“I’ll be right back” you kiss his knuckles as you get up. He groans at you letting go of his hand, instantly not loving the loss of your warmth. “Stayy” he manages to whine with the discomfort of a sore throat making grabby hands at you. The cold is messing with his head you think, he’d rather be caught dead than act all cutesy but you’re not complaining it’s actually adorable. “I said I’ll be right back honey” you say as you pull his ‘lost’ blanket from under his bed pulling it over his body as you set aside the mountain of clothes to deal with later. Making sure to kiss your boyfriend’s forehead before leaving for the kitchen.

You return with a tray,a glass and a water bottle filled with room temperature water and utensils. You set the tray on the carpeted floor as you help him sit up. Guiding the glass filled with water to his lips. He instantly gulps it down. You then move on to serving him the food you brought with you for him. “I made you soup” “feed it to me” he opens wide waiting for you to literally spoon feed him like a giant baby. But what shuji wants shuji gets so you stifle a laugh “whatever you say, you are sick after all” feeding him a spoon full of soup before blowing on it to make sure he doesn’t burn his tongue.Shuji gets fed by you happily, the warm soup soothing his scratchy throat and very much satisfied when you clean the corner of his mouth with your sleeve. You decided to clean his place up a bit as he was in no condition to do so himself but his grip on your wrist stops you from going anywhere “why do you keep leaving me?” oh would you look at that, the reaper is pouting, his full lips are puckered up and he doesn’t even know how kissable he looks right now with his cheeks slightly flushed from the fever. You’re now sat beside him on the bed “I will never leave you baby” he puts both his hands on your waist, pulling you on top of him as he lays back on the bed, your whole weight on him. “but you haven’t even kissed me properly today” his brows are slightly furrowed you notice “are you mad at me?” You giggle “a little” he admits and you snuggle closer to him “I’m sorry babe lemme make it up to you” holding him face between your hands and finally giving him the kiss he deserved. One of his hands is holding you by the nape, the other is on your back keeping you flush against him. Pulling away from the kiss after a good minute or two you settle on his left side with his arm wrapped around you “you do know I shouldn’t be kissing someone with a cold” you tease “but I’m not any ‘someone’ I’m your boyfriend and I need your kisses”. You playfully roll your eyes at him. If someone had asked hanma what he felt in the exact moment right now he’d say ‘giddy’ he feels giddy. Never in his life has he ever had someone take care of him, treated him so kindly,made him feel worthy of love. You made him feel worthy of love.Even his parents failed at that which was technically their jobs but he shakes the thought out of his mind.

Staring lovingly at you with his honey coloured eyes you hold his gaze, it still made your face heat up after all this time together with him you never really got used to the way he looks at you. He scoots closer to you, your body impossibly close to his on the tiny single bed. He tucks your head under his chin “I got very lucky” he sighs sniffing your recently shampooed hair. (Once you called him a dog for that and weirdly enough he agreed, admitting he actually likes doing that) “you treat me so well doll♡” shuji kisses the top of your head “I’m so stupid yet you’re still here with me in this dirty apartment being so smart” he’s yawning now “taking care of me when I’m sick” safe to say your heart is near the verge of exploding. Your shuji is being so sweet to you “I really really love you Y/N” you can tell he’s smiling “now say it back” he pulls back just enough to look at you say it. You’re smiling at him with your face on fire,maybe you got lucky yourself as well “I love you shuji, I really really love you too”

[audiovisualrecall]

It apparently feels like 11°f outside and I am Not happy about it

[sukirichi]

cold (m.)

request. soft nsfw scenario with gojo and his s/o on winter ♡

cw. cockwarming, sleepy sex, dom! gojo, “kitten” as a pet name, overstimulation, creampie, slight nipple play, explicit smut

note. sorry for the late request completion, but here it is, thank you for requesting on my milestone event! i’m not sure if this was “soft” enough since i got carried away, but i hope you like it!

Flakes of snow crumpled outside, heaps of stark white outlining the pavement and frosting the green leaves that had now been concealed from view. From outside, you could see the neighbors’ dogs happily chasing one another, their paws sinking from the cold. Smiling to yourself, you buried deeper in the covers and into your main source of heat, who was still snoring softly as he enjoyed his rare day off’s from work.

Twisting to your side, you cupped Satoru’s face, feeling warmth blossom from your chest and onto your palms. He looked so pretty like this – crystal hair and lashes relaxed, dusting just above his eyelids and his glossy lips still moisturized even from the biting cold.

You ran a thumb to his lips, thinking how unfair it was that he looked so ethereal even when asleep.

It was a nice sight to see your boyfriend out from his teacher’s uniform, clad in black sweatpants and an equally dark sweatshirt that now hung low to expose his defined collarbones. Tempting, he was, especially since his arm was lazily draped over the curves of your hips, large, rough hands cupping your ass even if he’s in dreamland. You wondered what he’s thinking about – you, perhaps? hopefully. It would be a shame if he had something else in mind, and in a sudden wave of jealousy, you snuggled closer to him, your head buried in his chest.

From above you, Satoru stirred. His movements were miniscule, unsure, and still sleepy for the first few seconds, until his wandering hands grazed over your skimpy shorts (mostly as an excuse to absorb his warmth skin-to-skin) and onto the plump flesh of your ass.

“Morning,” he croaked out, voice still heavily laced with sleep. “What’re you doing there, kitten?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head and pecked him on the lips, taking the man by surprise, though he didn’t pull away. Both of you enjoyed each other’s presence in the moment – with him smiling sleepily at you, his fingers tracing patterns on your legs that are mingled with his, and with you grinning up at him like you were the happiest person in the world. And well, you were. “Baby,” you started, using your most docile tone that you knew always had him weak, accompanied with wide eyes and a puppy pout. “I don’t want to leave bed but we need to eat soon. We’ve been sleeping for like, half a day already.”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think we’ve been doing more than just sleeping and that’s why we can’t leave the bed. You see, my little kitten has unfortunately bound me to the bed with her deceiving nature as a temptress.”

“Stop!” you whacked his chest playfully, your cheeks only burning further with heat the louder he laughed at you.

It was true – the laziness and comfort the cold brought, along with the need to just be impossible close to each other made getting out of bed seem such like a daunting task. If that wasn’t enough, he’d also taken you in different ways, keeping up to his word that he would fuck you on every corner of the house if that was what need be. As a result, your legs ached. Satoru took the liberty to carrying you pretty much everywhere, but it also came with the price that he’d pull your undies down just the next second, stuffing either his fingers or cock deep into your heated cunt.

Satoru effortlessly captured your wrist to stop you from your measly attacks, grabbing you until you were draped all over his body. With your weight on top of his, legs straddled on either sides of his waist, you regarded one another with so much sensations – of adoration, of lust, of need, of love.

Your boyfriend leaned upwards, pressing his forehead to yours until he was close enough to graze your nose against his. “I want you,” he breathed out hotly, his hands already on their way to squeeze your perked ass. “It’s too cold – warm me up?”

“Nasty little bugger,” you teased, but made quick work of shoving his pants down anyway.

Thanks to his teasing and your overall undeniable attraction for your boyfriend, your body felt like it was incessantly burning, but you had a duty to please him, otherwise he’d be whiny and bother you the rest of the day with his neediness. So with a roll of your eyes that was accomplished with faux annoyance, you slipped his cock out of his boxers – unsurprisingly, Satoru was already hard – and slipped him inside your mouth.

Satoru sighed, whispering finally under his breath as he relaxed back on the pillows. You let him stay there, cock hard and throbbing, but he didn’t seem to show any indication he wanted to fuck. After last night’s activities where you accidentally scratched the leather couch open from when he took you from behind, ass cheeks sore and bruised from the roughness of his palm’s impact onto yours, he must be really tired, and your legs still trembled until now.

You settled on your side to make yourself comfortable. Eyes closed and breathing softly, your mouth was the only thing that kept his cock warm. He twitched every now and then, his soft, curled hairs tickling your cheek.

His fingers began to thread your hair for some light patting; silent appreciation for how sweet you were to him. A few minutes passed where the both of you stayed there, almost on the brink of falling back to sleep again from the laxness winter always came with, until Satoru groaned, pushing your head off away from his cock. Blinking up at him, your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks in confusion.

Satoru didn’t speak.

He simply pulled you towards him, but twisted your body before you could kiss him. His actions made you huff in disappointment, and your boyfriend chuckling under his breath did nothing to alleviate your protests that you warmed his cock up for him but wouldn’t even let you kiss him.

“Hmm, I just want things to be fair for us,” he hummed against your neck, fingers splayed out over your belly. Satoru’s hands were cold from under his oversized shirt that you wore, and you tried to push him away, though the guy was too stubborn to let go. In your irritation to make yourself comfortable, you failed to register that he was already tugging your shorts aside, groaning deep when the tip of his cock slid over your wet, pussy lips. “Fuck, kitten, no panties? You were really that bare around me the whole night? I bet you’re not wearing a bra too.”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Easy to taunt as usual, his cold fingers trailed up from your stomach and onto your erect nipples, which he rolled playfully between his digits. Gasping from the stark contrast of your warm skin on his chilled ones, you ended up falling back on his arm under your head, shivering and clenching your jaw the longer he toyed with them.

His chest reverberated against your back from his laughter. You hated how sexy he sounded even when he wasn’t remotely trying to be tempting.

“You’re so cold.”

“Push me away then,” he smirked onto your hair, leaving little butterfly kisses over your cheeks that he could reach. Scoffing in protest, you cuddled closer to his arm and pushed your ass back to his erection to shut him up. “Oh,” he chuckled, “Did I make my kitten mad?”

“Shut up and put it inside me.”

“Your wish is my command, kitten.”

Your eyes shut tight as he slipped himself inside you, his long cock stretching you so good. Each inch of his cock slid in wonderfully, your walls accommodating and hugging him like he was meant to stay there and only there. The both of you released contented sighs now that he was seated deep inside you, his pelvis flat on the curve of your ass. His hands remained cupping your breasts as he mumbled sweet nothings into the crook of your neck, his body finally warm and your positions comfortable.

You would’ve happily fallen asleep like this – your head on his arm, his body locked around yours so tightly that you felt safe and protected, the curtain of his affection like a midnight lullaby to soothe you into slipping.

Then he started moving.

It started slow at first; slow, experimental thrusts that felt more like he was just wiggling to make himself comfortable. You chided at him for it, but the idiot only chuckled, complaining that you were ‘too tight and suffocating him.’ After telling him he could pull out and be deprived of your heat, he immediately shut up and only hugged you tighter, playfully sinking down his teeth over your neck to snarl, “Never. This little kitty is mine.”

You knew he was teasing you. It was evident from the way he slid in and out in an excruciatingly slow manner, as if trying to see if he could pull out those soft moans from your pretty lips that were wrapped around his cock that was now inside you just seconds ago.

Of course you wanted to moan. Of course you wanted to bask in this pleasure; his dick throbbing inside you, your walls clenching around him that granted you sharp intakes of breath from your rather unbothered boyfriend – but you just didn’t want to. Sure, maybe you were being bratty, but didn’t he love it? Besides, it only urged him to be a little rougher with you, a little meaner, to move a little faster and fuck you a little harder. It didn’t really take much to be reduced into the lovely kitten that mewled and clawed at his wrists.

This was something Satoru knew very well, and it really wasn’t beyond your boyfriend to push you over the edge.

Even with your back turned to him, you could feel his devious smirk hot on your skin, his nimble fingers slipping down to play with your clit. Now that elicited a whimper from you, and his snickers did nothing to alleviate the torturous pleasure he fucked you with.

Satoru kept flicking his fingers side to side until your clit throbbed between his fingers, the little bundle of nerves red and swollen just for his taking. Just as you were losing mind, he pushed your hair away from your neck and dipped his tongue into the shell of your ear, where his masculine groans and restrained pants harmonized beautifully with the little please’s you kept chanting over and over again. His cock was also relentless as he fucked into you, his hips godly into thrusting right at your sweet spot that had you viewing your room white like the snow that padded outside.

“Hnggr – T’Toru, too much—” you gripped at his wrist in an attempt to slow him down a little. He felt too good and too hot; at this pace, you couldn’t guarantee you could prolong your orgasm a little more, and you didn’t want to cum too early. “Baby, I—”

“You’ll take it,” he insisted, the grip he now had on your hips close to bruising. However, there was still that fact that you were his precious kitten that lingered at the back of his mind that prevented him from going too rough to you. The last thing he wanted was to break you, especially when he planned on fucking you until your pussy took in the shape of his cock and he’d fucked you too stupid that you remembered nothing else but his name. “You’re a good kitten, aren’t you? You can take it. Hold on a little longer for me.”

Your moans only turned to spur him on. You lay there limp like a ragdoll as he used you as he pleased, his hips snapping deep into yours until your mouth had fallen open, too shocked and drunken in pleasure to form a coherent thought.

“Feels so good,” your walls tightened around him, fingers laced around his veiny wrist that was still very much planted between your legs.

Satoru ignored the feverish manner of you rubbing your legs together, attacking you and ravishing you however he desired simply because why not. He was everywhere on you – his cock stretching you out and reaching places not even your toys could ever wander, his fingers rubbing and rolling your clit, his tongue and teeth leaving marks on the abused patch of skin on your neck and shoulders the longer he marked his territory with his scent on his signature. Not that he needed to since you would forever be his, but he didn’t want to take the chance.

“Fuck, kitten, so fucking tight for me,” he praised before his other hand gripped your boob, the pleasure too burning and overwhelming that you tipped your head back, knocking back on his chest where his heartbeat jumped and skipped even from underneath his shirt. “Oh, you always make me feel so good, always warming me up, huh?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, now please, I wanna cum,” you whined desperately, catching his lips at the same time his pace increased and made your body tremble. “Satoru,” you cried in between the kiss, hoping that he’d listen to your please this time. “Baby, too much, p-please?”

“Cum for me,” Satoru encouraged, rolling his hips in time with you meeting his cock thrust by thrust. He held onto your boob like it was his lifeline, everything he was doing igniting fireworks to explode within you. With one final, teasing pinch to your engorged clit, Satoru pushed you to the edge and you came around him, hard. The aftershocks of your orgasm were ridden out the longer he fucked himself deep into you, withering down fucked-out mumblings of please, it’s too much left unheard by his ears. Your walls clamped down around his cock the longer he stimulated you, and you were crying around him from the sensations bursting within you, the tears dripping down to his shirt.

Finally, his thrusts grew sloppy – a sign he was close. Satoru stilled his hips inside you, buried to the hilt and his skin flushed hot next to yours before you felt him spill his seed right into your warmth.

The feeling of both your cum dripping out your pussy lips were halted when Satoru pulled one last thrust, shushing you with a kiss when you moaned brokenly from the movement. You panted in his arm afterwards, holding onto his bicep and the sheets for dear life. He refused to pull out as he gathered you into his chest, kissing your tear-stained cheeks and wet lashes with a tenderness so alien to his dominance in bed.

“Shhh, shhh, you’re alright, I got you, kitten,” he soothed, brushing your hair away from your damp skin.

The heat on your bodies were immediately replaced by the biting cold, and you kissed him back once you were settled, sighing into the sweetness of his mouth and everything that was Satoru.

“’Em tired,” you eventually mumbled, too exhausted to bother cleaning up the mess he’d left between your legs.

You were thankful that he hadn’t pulled out yet, otherwise his load would drip further down your thighs and make a mess on the sheets – something you didn’t want to be bothered with.

As if sensing that you needed to be pampered now more than ever, your boyfriend nodded behind you, wiggling his lips one last time to make himself comfortable inside you. His warmth was comforting and more than welcomed, so much so that you momentarily forget his cum was still inside you. Satoru didn’t stop in caressing your skin, rolling the knots of your shoulders until you were growing sleepy before him, legs and bodies in a tangled mess similar brought about by the winter’s result to crave heat. And in the presence of your boyfriend, you were once falling back to into dreamland, but not before Satoru left one last reminder.

“Rest as much as you need, kitten,” Satoru whispered into the hollow of your ear, his tongue poking out to slowly coax you into the blissful lull of slumber. “You’re gonna need it for when I keep fucking you until winter passes.”

[mae-gi-writes]

22:07pm . kevin moon 🌙

Soft fluffy nights with Kevin when you've had a rough day.

---

"--so annoying!"

"Y/N calm down," Kevin lays a hand on your arm, halting you in your stormy pacing, the back and forth going on in your bedroom.

"I just--I was so pissed! They put responsibility on me, then they decide to change it up at the last minute!" You can feel the onset of tears filling up your vision, the frustration finally overcrowding your already-stressed out brain until you feel like you're breaking at the seams.

"Hey hey hey," Kevin doesn't hesitate, his arms coming in around you in a comforting backhug. But you're already crying at this point, head bowed and trying to keep your sobs silent. To no avail.

"It's okay," he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kids to your temple, "you're okay. Shh."

He stays. Even when your sobs merely intensify as frustration floods through you like a tidal wave unable to be tamed, a tsunami that devours everything in its path until there’s nothing left to latch on. Kevin stays, even when it feels like the world is conspiring against you and you’re too fucking tired to do anything about it. He stays.

And then finally, when you finally stop shaking as the tears slowly dry up along your cheeks, Kevin leans into you with his mouth at the shell of your ear, “I’m here,” his murmur is soft, a comforting hug that causes fresh tears to rise in the back of your lids, “I’m here for you. I got you.”

“I’m—I—“ you gulp down shards of air like glass scratching against your throat. You blink back some more tears though you can’t feel the knot in your stomach anymore, as if that has released some of the pressure off your back to allow you to breathe, “I—I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t be sorry,” Kevin shushes you instantly, a furrow between his brows. You look up at him through a film of tears but he’s adamantly shaking his head before cuddling you even closer if that’s possible, “don’t ever say sorry for being sad, or annoyed, or frustrated. On the contrary, I want you to tell me these things. I want to know about these things.”

You close your eyes, nose buried in the fabric of his sweatshirt as you breath in slowly, feel his scent slowly comfort your insides like a cup of warm tea on a cold winter night.

Kevin has always been your anchor. You feel bad sometimes, you really do, especially when you come home in such a state and he’s already had his plate full at work, only to have to deal with your onset of tears as soon as he opens the door. So you try really hard to not make it obvious, to keep in your emotions so that you don’t bother him because you find it to be a burden.

But Kevin hates it, and he’s told you so multiple times. It’s just that you have a stubborn streak. And what you think is right is what you’re going to do at the end of the day.

Not the greatest way of looking at things, obviously.

It is only when a silence covers the room and buzzes with the aftermath of your thoughts that you hear Kevin's whisper, "you feeling better?"

You nod. You do feel better now that you've let out everything in your system, though you wonder whether that's just temporary. You hope not.

"Come on," he's already tugging you to the bed and before you can protest, has you seated on the mattress. He grabs the blanket cover folded at the edge of the bed and wraps it around your frame before sinking in beside you, an arm circling your frame.

"Want to talk about it some more?" He prompts you, guides you to give him an inkling of what you're thinking.

But you shake your head, "no. I don't want to think about it."

"Okay," his hold tightens. It's firm, and loving. It makes you want to sigh, "so let me tell you about my day."

He launches into this long-winded explanation about his day, from the fact that he went out of milk to the way his stomach had cramped up because of his lunch earlier that day and how his co-worker had pissed him off by submittibg his document late.

And it helps you. It really does channel your attention somewhere else and little by little, bit by bit, you start to forget about your initial frustration.

Your muscles loosen, your shoulders lose tension. You cuddle closer on impulse, wanting to sink into Kevin's warmth.

"And now you know everything there is to know about my stupid day even though nothing interesting has happened," Kevin tilts his head at you, a semblance of a smile painting his lips, "and it seems like you're better because you're trying not to laugh--"

"No I--" you can't help the giggle bursting out of you despite your earlier mood, "--you're an idiot, Kevin Moon."

He looks at you in shock, "hey, I'm trying ro get my girlfriend to smile. Don't judge me," he puts a palm on his chest and the movement is so dramatic that you cannot help but laugh a deep-bellied laugh.

It bounces throughout the room, loud in the silence that prevailed earlier and it feels nice to laugh after all the sadness has been hollowed out of your body as if you've been scraped raw.

"I still stand by what I say," a small smile plays across your lips as you lean in. Kevin doesn't hesitate to press a soft kiss to your forehead, nuzzling the skin there while you burrow deeper into his warmth, "you're an idiot and I...I'm very grateful to have you."

The honesty startles even yourself. You're not used to saying such things out loud and suddenly, you feel kind of vulnerable.

"Hey," Kevin nudges you, and then before you have time to register it, he's turned you to face him and grabbed onto your forearms.

Pressing his forehead onto yours, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes you want to squirm.

"I love you."

You blink. Warmth floods your insides. Suddenly, it's a little hard to keep eye contact and heat rushes to your cheeks.

"Oh," you breathe, can't help the giddy smile that tugs your lips upwards. But it's impossible to keep eye contact, which is why you avert your gaze to his chest, "I--I love you too."

He grins and without warning presses a kiss to your lips.

It's short, but still leaves you breathless. As if you're kissing for the first time. Giddy.

Butterflies echo in your ribcage.

"I do though," you continue on, knowing that if you do not say this now you won't ever have the courage, "I love you so much and it's so scary to think that I've become so dependent on you but I--I'm so sorry for always being all cranky and ulset about stupid stuff. Honestly you shouldn't even have to deal with that--"

"Wouldn't you have done the same?" Kevin cuts you off.

"I--" you falter, hesitating, "I--yes. Of course I would--"

"Then that's all irrelevant because I want to be there," he locks eyes with yours, "for you."

A pause.

Then, you break out into a soft chuckle, "you're corny."

He grins, "apparently I have to, to make my girlfriend smile."

"Okay one, this is irrelevant to our conversation and two, that is weird for you to say."

You pull a face in response and he giggles before stealing another kiss from your mouth, "you're so cute. I want to keep you in my pocket and take you everywhere with me--"

"Hmm," Kevin feigns contemplation, before he tackles you into a hug and almost squeezing all air out of you, "nah. I think it's very relevant. Actually, it's always relevant."

Nose finding the crook of his neck before inhaling his scent, you close your eyes and bask in his essence, in the way his body feels against yours, in the strength of his arms around you to hold you to the ground.

He's home to you, and you'll never exchange that for anything.

[jungwonenthusiast]

nonvirgin!jay and inoccent virgin!femreader just making out while reader is sitting on jay's lap and they end up getting horny and they end up doing it. you can add more things if you want, I trust you

A/N: I’m kind of a sucker for the “taking the readers virginity” concept so forgive me if i get carried away lol (also forgive me if i played too much into the “innocent” concept, ik that its unrealistic but its just for funzies lol)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), fingering (f recieving), slight corruption kink, pretty vanilla i think

Word count: 1.8 k

You watch Jay type away on his laptop at his desk. You notice the muscles shifting under his shirt every time he reaches for a sip of water.

You guys never went further than making out and for a while you were fine and happy with that, but these days you’re finding it harder and harder not to tug his shirt off and push him onto the bed.

“Hi baby,” Jay says as you sit sideways on his lap. “What’s up.”

“Are you done yet?” you ask.

“Almost,” he kisses your cheek. He’s studying for an exam he has next week. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” you groan.

He chuckles. “We can hang out for a bit but then I have to go back to working, okay?”

You smile and peck him on the lips. Then again, and again, and again until your mouths are parting and his tongue is against yours. He adjusts you so that you’re straddling him in his desk chair. His hands warm and comfortable on your waist. He’s never touched you anywhere other than ur head, arms, legs, and waist, and right now you want something more. You take his hand and trail it up to your chest. He smiles into the kiss.

You can tell that he’s surprised and nervous judging from how gentle his hand is on you. But after a few minutes he begins to indulge in this new privilege and softly massaging you as you let out small moans.

You pull away from him. “Do you wanna- go to the bed?” you ask.

“Of course.” he chuckles and carries you to the mattress.

He lays you down gently before climbing on top of you.

You pull him in for another kiss.

He nudges his knee between your thighs and you can’t help but rock your hips against him. He notices and it gives him an instant hard on.

“Jay,” you exhale.

“Mhm?” he asks, peppering kisses down your throat.

“I wanna uhm- do it?” you say unsurely, giggling.

“Really?” he looks at you, wide eyed and you nod. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” you say sheepishly, not making eye contact.

He smirks and goes back to kissing your neck, now with tongue. You feel his hands travel up your sweatshirt (his sweatshirt actually) and you take a deep breath, trying not to whimper from his gentle touch.

His hands move to grope your chest and he pinches your sensitive nipples lightly. You whine and squirm underneath him.

“Do you need something?” he asks and you feel blood rush to your cheeks.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“What is it sweetheart?” he kisses your forehead. “Don’t be shy.”

“Touch me please.” you say into his neck, not able to look at him.

“Good girl,” he says before slowly sliding his fingers down down down into your underwear.

You twitch right away.

“Have you never..?” he asks and you blush.

“I have, but I’ve never...finished.” you say sheepishly.

He nods. "Let's change that shall we?"

He kisses your jaw before gently circling your clit. You grip at his forearm and he smirks.

“You’re doing so good.” he coos before kissing you softly.

He pushes your hoodie up and wastes no time to get to kissing your chest, running his tongue over your nipples.

You whimper and grind your hips against his fingers. “More.”

Soon all of your clothes are on his bedroom floor. He pulls away to admire your figure but you can’t help you try to cover up. He doesn’t try to pull your arms away though he just comes up to you and says: “You know how beautiful you are right?”

You turn your head away from him, blushing. “Shut up.”

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. “Really though, you’re hot as fuck.”

Your eyes widen. No one has ever called you that before. You usually get “cute” or “pretty”, never hot.

He plants kisses from your shoulder to your lower stomach, stopping every now and then to give you a hickey. You’re already gripping at the duvet by the time he gets to your hips. You writhe, not being able to stand the burning between your legs.

“Patience baby,” he kisses your inner thigh. “It’ll feel better if you wait.”

He sucks hickies on your soft flesh and you can literally feel yourself dripping.

“Please,” you beg. “I need it.”

He smirks before opening his mouth, getting nearly all of your cunt on his tongue. Your knees instantly snap around his head but he’s quick to push them back open, keeping you spread and pretty for him.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, your fingers lacing through his black hair. It’s new; not being able to control your pleasure, but at the same time, that’s what made it so good.

He pushes his tongue into you before circling it around your clit. “Fuck, you taste good.” he growls.

Your hips twitch as he works his tongue against you and you whimper.

He pulls away to slowly push a finger into you. You whine and grip at his forearm.

“You okay?” he asks before kissing you, letting you taste yourself. You nod, getting used to the foreign feeling.

“One more.” you say and he graciously obeys.

Your head falls back as he stretches you out.

“So wet.” he whispers while massaging your chest with his free hand. “You’re taking my fingers so well.” he purrs while pushing up on your sweet spot.

He rests the base of his palm against your clit, letting you grind against him.

You start to feel a strange sensation in your stomach. “Fuck,” you moan. “I can’t I can’t.”

“It’s okay baby,” he kisses your cheek. “Just feel it.”

Your grip on his arm tightens as you start to get closer and closer.

“You can do it,” he whispers. “Be good.”

Your legs begin to tremble and before you know it, your orgasm crashes over you like a big, cold, wave. Your eyes close shut and your mouth parts as you whimper softly.

He kisses your cheeks while slowly pumping his fingers into you.

“You did so good,” he says. “How was it?”

“Really good,” you exhale with a giggle. You shut your legs. “I’m embarrassed now~”

“Why?” he chuckles.

You cover your face with your hands. “You just saw me do that.”

“So? I wanted to,” he kisses you softly. “And it was really hot.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth. Your eyes widen. He smirks. “You taste too good.”

Good god he’s hot, you think. You kiss him hard. “Fuck me please.”

It only takes seconds for his jeans to be unzipped and his shirt to be on the floor.

He teases your clit with his tip before slowly pushing into you, stopping every couple of seconds to help you adjust.

You don’t struggle much considering how wet and worked up you are.

He kisses your jaw. “Ready?”

“Mhm,” you nod with excitement.

He gives you a sweet kiss before thrusting into you, hitting your g spot every time.

You cling onto his back, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet,” he growls. “I never knew that my sweet girl would want to be ruined like this.”

You shy away from him but he holds your face.

“Don’t be shy sweetheart.”

You nuzzle into his neck. “Harder.”

He smirks before grabbing the headboard and pounding into you. You let out a loud whine and it’s music to his ears.

“Look how good you take it.” he caresses your hair. “My precious baby.”

“You feel so good.” you whimper. “How does it feel so good?”

He chuckles lightly, amused by your confusion.

“Maybe it’s because we’re meant for eachother.” he says and you giggle.

You wonder if anyone else knows how sweet he is. His heart must be made of honey.

You mewl under him, grabbing onto everything you can reach out of desperation.

“Touch yourself.” he says and your eyes go wide. “You heard me, I wanna watch you.”

You shyly trail your fingers down to your clit. He places his hand on top of yours for a moment to get it moving.

You moan as the feeling of his cock inside of you and your fingers on your clit begin to combine.

“Oh my god don’t stop,” you beg as he grinds his hips into yours.

He wouldn’t even dream of stopping. The way your eyebrows are furrowing, your mouth is parting, and your smooth skin under his hands is enough to drive him insane. He’s basically drunk on you. He could do this all day.

“I love you.” you whisper and he kisses your jaw.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He continues to ruthlessly snap his hips against yours.

“Such good pussy,” he says to himself.

“Jay,” you whisper, barely being able to speak. Your legs are trembling and your hips are starting to twist.

“Cum for me baby,” he encourages you. “Make me proud.”

He watches as you come undone. Your eyes rolling back, your back arching, all of it. It’s enough to send him over the edge.

He groans into your neck as your cunt pulses around him. You hold onto him tight, still in shock from the orgasm he gave you.

He kisses your collarbone and rubs your waist. “Good girl.” he says before kissing your forehead.

He pulls out and quickly rushes to get a towel to clean you up.

Comfortable silence wafts by as he does so.

“What am I supposed to say now?” you joke and he laughs.

“Usually you just say ‘you were so good’ or something like that.”

You frown. “I don’t wanna be reminded that you’ve had sex with other people before.”

“Why? Does it make you jealous?” he teases.

“A little.” you roll your eyes.

“Okay this will be my first time from now on.” he says and you giggle.

“We just lost our virginities dude.”

“Sick right?” he plops down beside you and gives you a fist bump.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[rocorambles]

Proving A Point

Pairing: Toji x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Degradation, Murder, Violence, Gore, Borderline Necro??? But not really??? Listen...there is a dead body and things are done in very very close proximity to that dead body so take that as you will.

Summary: You make the mistake of accusing Toji of being jealous of sorcerers and he proves that he has nothing to be envious of.

Steady...Steady…

You wince as your stomach grumbles in complaint, hunger eating away at your patience and concentration. But you steel your nerves, stubbornly shaking your head and willing away the pangs in your abdomen as you focus on your surroundings, eyeing the cameras and employees, waiting for the right moment…

Skittish eyes. Rustling. Quick movements.

You tamper the pep in your step, hiding the glee in your face as you casually stroll outside of the sliding doors, leaving the grocery store and its shoppers in your wake, baggy sweatshirt much less roomy as you walk away. Your fingers itch to immediately grab the banana tucked inside your bra, but you know better.

Patience is a virtue. Out of sight, out of mind. And you wait, fighting every urge to run far away and dig into your stolen loot, sighing in giddy relief when you finally turn the corner, blocks away from the scene of the crime.

It’s almost animalistic how you practically rip off your hoodie, letting your precious cargo of fruits, bread, and chips fall to the ground. You plop on the ground, hand wrapping around the banana still tucked in the fabric around your chest, but you freeze at the sound of amused chuckling.

Your fight and flight instincts war inside of you, teeth baring, body back on its feet as you gauge your intruder. But your heart drops in your stomach when you take in the large muscular figure, the feral scarred grin leering at you from down the alley.

Years alone and left to fend for yourself have made your survival instincts strong and you know just from a brief glance that you don’t stand a chance against the man slowly meandering towards you. You’re no stranger to using your body for protection, money, just another night under a warm roof and you can only surmise that’s what he wants, that he’s just another predator in search of hapless prey. So you brace yourself, willing your body to relax as it trembles, letting it go limp as he draws near.

But you open your eyes in shock, looking warily on as he plucks the banana still nestled in your bra and peels it open, holding the opened end to your lips.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal.”

You gape, eyes flickering between the yellow fruit and the amused face of the man in front of you. Back and forth, back and forth.

“If you’re not going to eat it, maybe I’ll have it. I’m getting kind of hungry anyway-”

“What is this? Some kind of weird foreplay?!”

Hunger makes your tongue sharper than you intend as you angrily chomp on the soft fruit before he can pull it away from you, your hands ripping the rest of the banana from his grasp as you quickly shove the rest in your mouth, uncaring of how ridiculous you look. So what if you look like an oversized furious chipmunk, cheeks bulging as you rapidly chew, scowl set in place? You’d be damned if you let someone else take your hard-earned food, even if he does look capable of choking you with his bare hands, and your eyes linger a little too long on the ways his shoulders and biceps bulge in his tight black shirt.

But his next words have you snapping back to attention, nervousness curling inside of you.

“I saw your little stunt back there. Not bad. How long have you been stealing to provide for yourself?”

You immediately deny his words, feigning ignorance, beads of cold sweat trailing down the side of your face the longer he just impassively stares at you as you continue stuttering.

Had you misjudged him? Was he some kind of undercover cop?

“What if I told you I could keep you off the streets, find jobs that would pay enough money to put a roof over your head, keep your stomach full?”

Your head snaps up, hope fluttering inside of you, your voice coming out more desperate and shaky than you wish.

“You won’t turn me in?”

The man snorts, bending down to pick up the rest of your meager belongings and food, not even looking back to see if you’re following as he begins to walk away, arms laden with your possessions, silently commanding you to follow him. And like a duckling imprinting on its parent, you instinctively trail after him without a single question about where you’re going, what jobs he’s talking about, or who he is. But as you exit the narrow alleyway and get ready to merge with the bustling street, he pauses, turning around to gaze at you as he answers one of those questions.

“I’m Toji. No last name. Just Toji.”

Neither of you dwell too much on what exactly brought the two of you together, what had Toji curiously watching as you skillfully and efficiently stole your next few meals and deciding to tuck you under his wing, what had you eagerly following after the man like a lost puppy. The harsh conditions and day-to-day survival of your lives don’t give either of you the luxury of wallowing in loneliness or the warmth that builds in your chests the more time you spend together.

But on nights after a successful job, bellies full of food and alcohol, bodies lazing on a cushy hotel bed where you splurge and rest for the night, neither of you fight the way your limbs naturally entangle, the way your lips meet in the dark, the way it feels so damn right to be together.

You learn about sorcerers and curses, shuddering when you become aware of an entire world that surrounds you. Toji laughs when he gifts you a pair of glasses that helps you see the evil around you and you scream, jumping in his readily outstretched arms, clinging onto him in fright.

Toji learns that aggressive shows of confrontation and brute force aren’t always the best answer (even if they are the most fun option) and he follows your lead, letting you quietly sneak around, swift hands dexterously picking locks, easily plucking and pocketing stolen goods. It’s your turn to laugh when he pouts at not being able to use his blade, strong arms crossed in front of his chest as he impatiently waits for you to finish your task.

But despite the months you spend together, you never get used to the crimson stains he returns with, eyes always averted and looking anywhere else when he deals a final blow. He knows if you had a choice, you’d always opt out of joining him on these specific types of requests. He knows it’s selfish to force you along, to make excuses as to why he needs you by his side as his sword guts yet another sorcerer. He knows he should feel some shame for the way you dry heave and vomit the contents of your guts at the sight of the countless corpses he forces you to look upon.

Yet all he feels is annoyance laced with guilt and fury at the pity in your eyes, the softness in your gaze as you watch him slay another individual who just happened to be born with cursed energy, the gentleness with which you handle the fallen bodies. Maybe that’s why he keeps on dragging you with him assassination after assassination, gloating about his new moniker “Socerer Killer” in front of you despite your clear discomfort towards the title.

But maybe the unspoken punishment is too soft for you, too subtle. And Toji scowls when you begin to question him and his motives, angrily growling right back at you when you raise your voice as you argue with him about his drive to kill every sorcerer he crosses paths with.

You plead and beg for him to reconsider. Sorcerers are humans after all, just with special abilities.

Toji wonders if you’d still think that if you met anyone else from the Zenin clan and both of you back down, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to soothe and comfort as you see his mind and eyes glaze over in painful reminiscing.

It’s during one of these sessions that you utter the lines that end up being your downfall.

“Toji, do you think that maybe all your hate towards sorcerers is just jealousy? Are you jealous that you weren’t born with cursed energy like they were? Because if that’s what it is, there’s nothing to be jealous about-”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Harsh language and cursing are all things you’ve come to expect from Toji. But what has you paralyzed with fear and a desperate need to make things right is the pure animosity and seething rage in his voice.

You whimper as a large hand reaches to grip your face, squishing your cheeks painfully, forcing you to lock eyes with fierce emerald orbs.

“I’m not jealous.”

He abruptly lets go of you with that sentence, turning his back on you, slamming the door in his wake. And you know you should be grateful that this is the extent of his lashing out. Yet somehow your heart aches more in his absence and you almost long for more of his heated words, even a spiteful strike as the days drag on without his presence.

It’s embarrassing how much you miss him, how accustomed you’ve grown to him being around. But you can’t help the way you scramble and flail in your rush to greet him as he finally enters your bedroom almost an entire week later. And he snorts when he easily catches you as you stumble and topple into his arms, tightly flinging your arms around him and holding him in silence, nuzzling and inhaling his scent as you bury your head in his chest.

You don’t miss the way a large hand gently rests on your head, the way he lets himself bask in your embrace. But all is not forgiven or forgotten and you warily listen as he barks at you to get ready, telling you he has another job for the both of you, grimacing when a razor sharp grin cuts across his face when he tells you it’ll be a messy one.

If there’s one positive attribute about Toji, it’s that he’s a man of his word. Your stomach churns, nausea swirling inside of you as he uses his bare fists to seemingly break every bone in the target’s body, unnecessarily cruel as he drags out the sorcerer’s death. The victim’s agonized screams fill the air and you clamp your hands over your ears, wishing you were anywhere but here, hesitantly stepping towards the exit, but stopping at Toji’s curt command for you to stay put.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh finally stops and you let out a shaky breath, tentatively lowering your arms as you turn back to face Toji, waiting for his exit plan. But your eyes widen when you see the sorcerer’s chest still rising and falling, still hanging to life by a fraying thread. And realization weighs down on your shoulders like a ton of bricks when Toji beckons you over, pulling your reluctant body until your back is pressed against his chest.

He places the hilt of his sword in your hands before gripping your hips, holding you still as his thumbs languidly rub lazy circles through the fabric of your pants. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches the tremble of your arms as you vigorously shake your head side to side, eyes dizzyingly flitting between the half-dead sorcerer laying at your feet and the sharp point of the weapon your holding.

“Toji, I don’t- I can’t-”

“Kill him or be punished. Pick your poison.”

You know there’ll be hell to pay if you don’t follow through and every ounce of self-preservation screams at you to put your own well-being above the pitiful stranger on the ground. But when you lock eyes and see the fear and pain, see him as just another human like yourself, you know you’ll never be able to forgive yourself if you deal the final blow, know that his death will haunt you, curse you, for the rest of your life.

You’re terrified as you begin to loosen your grip, getting ready to let the object clatter to the ground, knowing full well Toji will be livid. But before you can fully release the sword, strong hands wraps around yours, forcing you to hold the blade once more, and you scream as Toji guides your hands, forcing you to cut through flesh, muscle, skin, and bone, the body parting like butter beneath the overwhelming force. Hot crimson splatters decorate the both of you and all you smell and taste is metallic copper.

All you’re cognizant of is the dimming light in the sorcerer’s eyes, the way your hands are still holding onto the weapon buried in your victim’s guts.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

You don’t know anything except the need to flee, to separate yourself as far from the crime scene as possible. And your legs jerk back to life, only to give out on you as you’re forced to the ground, body unable to do much against Toji’s brute strength as he forces you on all fours on top of the still warm corpse, your limbs encasing the figure, eyes unable to look anywhere but straight down on those vacant eyes.

“Take a close look, sweetheart. Still think I’m jealous of a pathetic meat sack like that? Still think I care about having cursed energy? His special little powers didn’t help him much, did they?”

Toji’s laughter rings in your ears as your shaky arms struggle to hold your bodyweight up, trying to create as much distance between your torso and the hardening corpse beneath you, your eyes clenching shut, trying to block out the gruesome scene. You’re so focused on your predicament that you barely register calloused hands pulling down your pants and underwear, leaving your most intimate parts on display.

But Toji’s never been a fan of being ignored, especially by you, and you wail as he suddenly shoves his cock inside of your dry and unprepared hole, the pain and force of his thrust throwing you off balance and fat tears stream down your face as your body falls on the lifeless form beneath you.

Fear, pain, and disgust coil and slither inside of you as you futilely flail and try to lift yourself off the body beneath you, loud sobs escaping past your lips as your face is squished against a much colder visage, your tears and saliva mixing with the congealed blood on the sorcerer’s face. But every time you try to push yourself up, Toji rams into you from behind, and you instinctively tip forward, trying to escape, trying to pull away from him, only to further trap yourself against the corpse.

“God, you’re such a fucking crybaby. He’s dead, get over it. Look. There’s nothing to be so upset about.”

A new wave of salty tears trail down your face as Toji uses one hand to pin you down, forcing your lips to connect with colder, stiffer ones in a mockery of a kiss. He pauses his relentless thrusts to boisterously laugh as you fight against his hold in renewed vigor, fueled by your disbelief and terror.

“Alright, I guess that’s enough punishment for you. Don’t want you to die from shock. Let me make it all better.”

If you thought the ocean of negativity you had been drowning in before was bad, this is worse. So much worse. And a disgust so thick, so potent, so irreversible washes over you, seeping into every part of you, as pleasure begins to flicker and grow deep inside of you. Toji knows every inch of your body inside and out, and it’s pathetic how quickly your pleas for him to stop become lewd moans and wanton sounds as his fingers rub and play with hardening nipples and clit, as he angles his cock at just the perfect degree that has you seeing stars, as his teeth possessively bite down in the junction of your neck.

You don’t want to feel good, not like this, not here, not sprawled on top of a man you had just killed in cold blood. But it’s hard to think of anything else other than the arousal and lust fogging over your morality, over your humanity as Toji turns you into a well-trained mindless slut desperate for him, for pleasure. And he smiles victoriously as you stop resisting, letting your body mold against the corpse beneath you, uncaring of how absolutely sinful and depraved you look as you moan and drool like a bitch in heat, writhing shamelessly against the body underneath you.

He knows the image is going to be seared into his mind for life, fap material for years to come, and his hips stutter, his tempo fluctuating as his balls tighten, his thrusts becoming even more feral and desperate as he chases his end. And when you cum first, convulsing and milking him of all his seed, pushed over the edge by the brutality of his pace, he spills thick white spurts deep inside of you, grunting in satisfaction as he slams balls deep into you one last time.

It’s amusing how you’ve seemingly had a complete change of heart, looking almost at home and at peace as you continue laying on the motionless sorcerer, body twitching and eyes rolled back in your head as you laze in post-coital bliss. His softening and spent cock twitches in interest again as a sticky trail begins to trickle out your used cunt, mixing with the blood of the broken body beneath you. And it takes all his willpower to refrain from having you, tasting you all over again.

You’re still on the clock after all and there’s payment to be collected.

But as he coldly barks at you to get up and tidy yourself up as best as you can, smug satisfaction swells inside of him as he watches you exhaustedly pull your panties and pants back up above your ass, a dazed pleasured look on your face as you quickly make your way to him, tucking yourself closely to his side and leaning into his body heat.

You always were a clingy and needy thing after an orgasm. But he can’t bring himself to mind, sneering as he tosses one last backwards glance at the dead sorcerer you’re leaving behind before finally settling into a self-satisfied smile as he pulls you in closer.

Cursed energy and all...no sorcerer could ever make you feel as good as him.