#josh can be. long winded as we know

[shutupdevvie]

dev fave josh quote? something by short n sweet that he says like one of his bits from onstage maybe?

OOO obviously champagne, caviar that’s a classic and it DOES make me giggle every time

smoke em if you got em is also a good one (even though i will not be smoking anything thank u though josh)

clothing is optional. i think that one speaks for itself.

fuck fear is a really good one obviously not a stage saying but just in general

[lovingseventeen]

Hiii could you pls write about how seventeen gets their s/o to sit in their lap?? Thanks so much

svt getting their s/o to sit on their lap

a/n: i hope this is sufficient for my very delayed return (please).

seungcheol: 

✿ it's truly just second nature for him at this point

✿ he'll just casually guide you onto his lap and you don't really question it either

✿ say you're about to sit next to him on the couch

✿ as you're about to sit he'll just lightly pull your wrist in his direction and there you are

jeonghan:

✿ loves to rest his head on your shoulder when you sit on his lap

✿ the simplest "come here" and you're following

✿ he loves this because you don't even have to pay attention to him but he has all the access to wrap his arms around your middle

joshua: 

✿ pats his leg when you want to show him something on your phone

✿ "josh look at this thing i just saw-"

✿ immediately, he's sitting up and spreading his legs so you can walk in the space between them and sit on one of his thighs

✿ "let me see, pretty"

jun: 

✿ will gradually shift you onto his lap over time absentmindedly

✿ neither of you two really notice but you just wind up there

✿ you were watching a movie on opposite ends of the couch (which is fine) but now you're there??? (no one is complaining)

hoshi: 

✿ so annoying about it (i mean this in a loving way)

✿ why should you sit anywhere else when his lap is literally right there??

✿ even if you sat somewhere else without thinking about it he's jokingly scoffing "so you hate me"

✿ (it's okay, just go sit on his lap and peck his cheek and he's all giddy again)

wonwoo: 

✿ pulls you towards him by an article of clothing

✿ it could be your pants loop, the sleeve of your hoodie, or the back of your shirt

✿ he doesn't need to ask you twice :')

woozi:

✿ always asks for your opinion when he makes a new beat or writes new lyrics

✿ "i want you to listen to this" he says with a hand stretched out

✿ he likes to have you sit on his lap while he places the headphones around your ears

✿ he gently presses his forehead to your back as he waits for your thoughts

dokyeom: 

✿ perpetually wrapped around you anyway (his love language is physical touch)

✿ it doesn't take long when an arm around your shoulder as you're sitting next to each other moves to your waist

✿ then he figures this isn't close enough and he'll also maneuver you so you're eventually on his lap. he'll quite literally wrap his arms around your middle so he can move you

✿ "this is better" as he nudges his face into your neck

mingyu:

✿ will manhandle you if he has to

✿ you try teasing him just to see him get pouty and as you're trying to get away from him, he uses a little bit more of his strength to pull you towards him

✿ but as you're sat you feel him mumble against your shoulder "do you actually not want to?"

minghao:

✿ i think he's a pretty straightforward person

✿ a simple tucking your hair behind your ears and he's caught your attention

✿ "i want you closer" as he holds your arm to help you move

seungkwan: 

✿ dances around the subject instead of just telling you what he wants lol

✿ "did you know that sitting on wooden chairs is actually bad for your back? there's no cushioning"

✿ "oh really? should we order cushions then or-"

✿ "you could sit somewhere else"

✿ "but i need the table for my laptop and i get so lazy on the couch-"

✿ "then maybe you could just sit here" he offers, moving his chair back to welcome you. then it all clicks (he's a dork)

vernon: 

✿ also probably someone who just tugs you gently in his direction

✿ i don't think he'd need to use words for you to get it either

✿ even if you're standing around him doing anything else and you feel him lightly pull the back of your sweater you follow him without giving it much thought

chan:

✿ as long as you're in his vicinity he pulls you with him as he sits down

✿ both of you just came home from work? he's dropping himself down on the couch and you're coming with him

✿ has most definitely missed at least once and you both landed on the floor

[slasherscream]

my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥

Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.

Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.

Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.

Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.

David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥

Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.

Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.

Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥

Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!

[oddsconvert]

I really wanna see Joshy being forced to stay awake for days. He gets so desperate to sleep that he even sweet talks Felix, ya know, desperate times.

Exhaustion clings to Josh like a leech. It feeds off his vigour and drains away any remnant of lucidity. He teeters on the edge of collapse; his body totally spent and mind shrouded in fog. Just as his heavy eyelids flutter shut for what must be the millionth time, a shock of electricity winds around his throat like a serpent, jolting him awake with a warbled cry. Josh’s hands fly to his throat, tingling and near-numb fingers scratch and desperately rip at the collar strapped to his neck. He chokes on a silent scream as hot-pain streams through his veins. 

“Eyes on me,” Felix orders with a sickly-sweet grin, he fidgets with the shock collar remote in his palm before pocketing it. “Oh, am I boring you, darling?”

Josh can barely see Felix through the tears brimming his bloodshot eyes. His jittering body slumps and his head lolls against his chest, drool slipping from his lips.

“Please -” Josh croaks, his voice coarse like sandpaper. He gulps down a sob. “Please - I - I can’t-”

-can't stand to stay awake for a second longer. Countless days and sleepless nights have blurred and bled into one waking nightmare. Josh can't remember when he was last allowed to simply fall into the sweet surrender of sleep, nor can he remember how it feels to just let his eyes slip shut and his brain switch off - his only true escape from Felix.

It had never occurred to him that sleep was a luxury that he could have denied…

“You can. You will. Remember this is your choice, my sweet. Not mine.”

What’s left of Josh’s mind races. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. He isn’t afforded choice, that was a long-learned lesson, taught through blood, sweat and tears. If he had the freedom of choice, he wouldn’t be here, huddled in the corner - fatigue eating away at him. The other night, when Josh begged Felix through breathless, hiccupping sobs that he didn’t want to sleep with Felix, he couldn’t sleep with Felix, he was terrified of the thought of going to bed and what that would bring…did he have a choice then?

Josh’s eyes suddenly and uncontrollably roll into the back of his head, his body growing limp once again. Felix clicks his fingers against the bridge of Josh’s nose to snap him back. Josh groans in weary frustration. 

“If - If you… llloved me, you’d let me sl-sleep-” Josh mumbles without a thought to the words leaving his lips. He doesn’t clock the way Felix sees red in that moment, steam nearly blowing out his ears.

“Stop that,” Felix snarls. Fists clenched tight. “What have we talked about, Josh? About you manipulating me-”

How is it that Josh always winds up the villain and never the victim? His attempts at survival and bids for peace deemed calculated and cunning? If he had the wherewithal, maybe he’d think of his mum saying it’s like “the pot calling the kettle black” and snicker to himself… instead he blinks blankly and at a snail's pace.

“You know the deal,” Felix chastises, “It’s quite simple, really. Nearly as simple as you-”

That hits Josh like a blow. Like a sucker punch to the gut. He slumps further against the wall, his head rolling back as if his neck were made of lead.

“You sleep with me, or not at all. It’s your choice, baby. Deprive yourself into a slow madness… or just let me hold you through the night.”

Josh knows. He’s not the fucking idiot Felix makes him out to be. He knows deep down that he’ll never win the battle of the wills - not against Felix. He’s grasping onto consciousness by a string: his eyes feel like acid has been poured into them - his body feels like it might crumble to dust. Josh has to give Felix what he wants, to get what he needs. It’s a transaction. Nothing more. That’s what he’ll tell himself. 

A memory foam mattress. Warm blankets. A night’s sleep. Is it worth it?

He forces himself onto all fours, even as his muscles scream and throb in protest. He crawls across the filthy floor until he reaches Felix and crumbles at Felix’s feet. His pounding head rests against Felix’s leg and he dares to close his eyes. A chesty sigh stretches into a yawn.

“I-I’m sorry…for-for playing up…” Josh mutters miserably. “I-I don’t know what came over me - I don’t know why I do this, I just -....take me to bed? Please?” He blinks up at Felix, batting his long but tear-drenched lashes.

Felix hums, carding his hand through Josh’s locks of hair, “Change of heart, my beautiful boy?”

Josh nods, but it just makes his nausea increase ten-fold. “I - I want to sleep…with you. In our bed. I wa-want you to hold me…through the night.”

For a second, Josh thinks that maybe Felix is right - he might be manipulative. He’ll say whatever he has to, to get whatever he wants. He’s playing Felix like a fiddle and he prays it’s working. Josh pulls himself to his knees, his eyes shining at Felix and his hands together in supplication.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’ll be so good. I’ll be…complaisant-”

“Complaisant?” Felix purrs, and he palms himself through his trousers. Josh has to fight back bile. But this is the price he has to pay. “You better not be teasing me, baby.”

“You’re too good to me,” Josh sniffles, “Too patient. I don’t deserve it-”

“No. You do not.”

Felix scoops Josh up into a bridal carry, as though he’s as light as a feather. It makes him feel so impossibly small and frail. The sudden swooping motion makes his stomach churn and the world twist. 

“And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

[gretavanlace]

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

~

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

[oldiesstationlover11607]

hihiiii tis i the one and only soupiie!!

okay, i LOVED that domestic tyler fic with the xmas livestream and was wondering if you'd make fluffy josh x reader where she's seen by fans at a concert and take pics with them and then while josh is running to his b stage drumkit, he kisses her and the fans take pics. then maybe after the concert some fluff with josh and tyler.

love love loooveee your writing, please never stop, its one of the few things keeping me sane rn 🧡🧡🧡

Barrier Kisses - Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Nothing hehe

Word Count: 1087

A/N: RAHH LOVE THIS SO MUCH! Hello soupiiiie!! Thank you for requesting something! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing. It's kinda hard to keep it up considering how my requests have been fewer and fewer but I'm trying :) Please request another piece!!

The energy in the arena was nothing short of magical. I could feel it in my chest, the heavy thrum of bass and the sea of voices singing along with Tyler as the show reached its halfway point. The Clancy Tour was in full swing, and the fans were louder than ever — their excitement so infectious, I found myself smiling without even realizing it.

I stood tucked off to the side of the stage, close enough to watch Josh's every move but far enough to stay out of the spotlight. Tyler was on the main stage, delivering one of his iconic speeches, hyping the crowd up before Routines in the Night. Meanwhile, Josh was preparing for his run to the B-stage, ready for the song to start while Tyler stood under the stage with Mark.

I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill every time I saw Josh on stage, the way his presence just filled the entire arena. It wasn’t just the drumming, though that was always mesmerizing — it was the way he connected with the fans, like each beat he hit meant something to them. And to me.

Lost in the moment, I barely noticed the small group of fans standing near the barrier who had spotted me. I wasn’t exactly trying to keep a low profile, but I didn’t expect them to recognize me. Their eyes went wide, and then one of the girls waved me over, excitement practically bursting from her.

“Are you Josh’s girlfriend?” she asked, voice high-pitched with nerves but sweet as ever.

I felt my face flush, but I smiled. “Yeah, I am.”

Immediately, phones were pulled out and I laughed softly, shaking my head. I wasn’t exactly used to the attention, but it was kind of cute how excited they were. They asked for a few pictures, and I couldn’t say no. The girls were so kind, gushing about how much they loved Josh, and it made me proud to know that he had fans like them.

“Can we get a picture with you?” another girl asked.

“Of course!” I agreed, stepping over closer to the barrier and posing with them.

We chatted a bit about the tour, their favorite songs, and how long they’d been following the band. I could tell how much the show meant to them, and it made my heart swell knowing Josh and Tyler could bring that kind of joy into people’s lives.

“Do you think we could get a picture of you and Josh?” one of them asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

I laughed, feeling my face heat up again. “I think he’s a little busy for that right now,” I said, glancing back toward the stage where Tyler was winding down his speech. Josh was waiting in the wings, just a few feet away, already prepared to make his sprint toward the B-stage.

Right on cue, the lights shifted, casting everything in deep reds and golds, the perfect backdrop for his run. I turned to see Josh glance over at me, that unmistakable smile on his face. My heart skipped a beat. It always did when he looked at me like that — like I was the only person in the room.

And then, without warning, he started jogging over.  The fans around us squealed in surprise, and my eyes widened as he came closer.

He didn’t stop running, just slowed enough to lean in and press a quick kiss to my lips. It was so fast but so sweet, leaving me blushing as the fans around us erupted into excited cheers.

The sound of phones clicking and capturing the moment filled the air, and I was half-laughing, half-shocked by how casual Josh had made it all seem. He just flashed me another grin and took off again, heading toward the B-stage to continue the show as if nothing had happened.

My heart raced as I turned back toward the fans, who were all wide-eyed and giggling, holding up their phones like trophies.

“Did you see that?” one of them gasped. “That was so cute!”

I just laughed, feeling giddy myself. “Yeah, he's… kind of perfect, huh?”

The rest of the concert felt like a blur. Every time Josh’s drum beats echoed through the arena, I could feel the memory of that quick kiss lingering in my mind. And from the way the fans nearby kept sneaking glances at me, I knew they'd be talking about it for weeks.

After the show, the backstage area was quieter, though still buzzing with the after-show energy that always seemed to linger. I made my way through the halls, weaving past crew members and friends until I found Josh in the green room, towel around his neck, sweat still glistening on his skin from the performance. Tyler was with him, lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“There she is!” Josh beamed, pushing off the arm of the couch to meet me halfway. He pulled me into a warm, post-show hug, the kind that always made me feel like home.

“You really kissed me in front of everyone?” I teased, poking him in the chest as I looked up at him, but I couldn’t hide the smile on my face.

Josh chuckled, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair from my face. “Couldn’t help it,” he said, eyes soft. “I saw you there, and I just… had to.”

Tyler snorted from the couch. “Real smooth, Josh.”

Josh rolled his eyes, still grinning. “You’re just jealous because Jenna’s not here tonight.”

Tyler held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I’m just saying — it was pretty bold, man. Risky move, but I respect it.”

I laughed, leaning into Josh’s side, his arm wrapping around me protectively. “Well, the fans loved it,” I said, thinking back to all the excited faces and cameras. “They were snapping pictures like crazy.”

Josh leaned down and kissed the top of my head, softer this time, a little more private. “Good,” he murmured. “Maybe I’ll make it a habit.”

Tyler groaned dramatically. “Please, spare us.”

Josh just grinned wider, pulling me closer as we all sank into the easy, comfortable feeling that came after a successful show. It was moments like this — the quiet in the storm, the laughter and love we shared — that made everything worth it.

And as I rested my head against Josh’s shoulder, I couldn’t help but think that this life, this wild, crazy life with him, was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[thedaregf]

𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Your brother is Ryan Mcmahon, drummer of the upcoming band Inhaler. What happens when you sneak around with the Irish bassist…

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : cigarettes and alcohol (oasis).

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I was awoken to a knock at my bedroom door. Not long after the knock appeared my brother Ryan.

“Get up, we need to leave soon.”

“Do i have to come with you?”

“Yes. You promised me last week that you’d come to the show”

“That was last week. I’ve changed my mind”

“No. You’re coming”

And with that Ryan closed my door in annoyance which led me to groan knowing i had to stick to my word of leaving the house tonight.

It wasn’t long before i hopped in the shower getting ready for the day. Frank Ocean blasted through the speaker on the counter as i washed my hair. When all of a sudden i got a text message. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body checking my phone to see who interrupted me.

Bobby - Bobert 🤘

You - Y/N🖕

Bobert 🤘

You coming to the gig tonite? x

Y/N 🖕

Unfortunately. I promised Ryan i’d come to this one x

Bobert 🤘

Um excuse me this isn’t an unfortunately moment. x

Y/N 🖕

It is when i’m gonna be stuck with 4 boys and one of them tries to convince others to play bird bingo for an hour. x

Bobert 🤘

I wonder who that could be cause it isn’t me. Maybe Josh? We should really have a word with him about that cause that’s out of order x

Y/N 🖕

Whatever helps you sleep at night babes x

Bobert 🤘

Babes? Okay Babes. Let’s have a talk Babes. x

Y/N 🖕

Bye. Gotta get ready see you soon. x

Bobert 🤘

See you soon babes x

I didn’t realise I was smiling at my phone until the last message. I’d say Bobby and I have a close relationship. I’ve known him for a while and i’ve always had a crush on him. I mean who couldn’t. He’s 6ft with a mullet and plays bass in a band. And also my brother’s bestfriend and bandmate but we all have a secrets don’t we. I walked into my bedroom and shut my phone throwing it onto my bed getting ready for the night ahead of me. I threw on a black midi dress that flowed in the wind at the bottom and paired with my fur jacket, black boots and black bag and topped it off with jewellery. I then started applying the finishing touches to my makeup before Ryan called up saying that we are leaving in 5. I opened my bag and threw in my packet of cigarettes, a small bottle of alcohol, charger, lip liner and lip stick and other necessities i’ll need for the night before quickly making my way downstairs.

liked by ryanmcmahon_15, elijahhewson and 1,300 others

y/nusername : dressing up > down

📷 : ryanmcmahon_15

ryanmcmahon_15 : finally got photo credits for once.

➥ y/nusername : be grateful

user : where is the jacket from?

➥ y/nusername : it’s thrifted x

bobbyskeetz : this jacket looks like a bird meaning you have to bird bingo.

➥ y/nusername : … can i not get a nice compliment without it including birds.

➥ bobbyskeetz : no sorry xxxxx

bobbyskeetz : 😫🖕

➥ y/nusername : no. damage is already done 💔

user : UR HOT.

➥ bobbyskeetz : thanks x

➥ y/nusername : fuck off.

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We arrived at the venue and entered through the back door. There were a group already queuing even though it was only 2pm. It was so crazy to me how people would spend their whole day waiting in a queue for a show that will only go on for a few hours (i am guilty of this). They all screamed when they saw Ryan enter the venue which i still need to get used to. We get led into the green room which was already filled with the other 3 irish lads.

It wasn’t long before Ryan announced our presence ‘Hey! We made it’

‘Hey guys!’ Eli stood up and started hugging the both of us followed Josh and Bobby.

Bobby’s hug lasted a little longer than i wanted it to but at the same time i could stay with him forever. He’s such an easy person to be around. You could either talk for hours upon hours about random ass shit. You could tell him about girl drama and he would make small comments like ‘She’s a Bitch’ or You could both sit in the same room together in comfortable silence. You’ve never gotten on with anyone so well in your life. It was relaxing to know that someone understood you in that way.

‘We have soundcheck in about 2 hours so if anyone’s up for a round of bird-‘

‘Bobby… Don’t even mention the words Bird or Bingo today please’ He just laughed at my comment sitting down on the velvet couch placed in the middle of the room. He patted the seat next to him inviting me to sit down beside him which is happily accepted. The other boys were talking about god knows what when suddenly Bobby leaned over and spoke so only I could hear ‘Are you looking forward for tonight… babes’ I lightly slapped his arm telling him to behave. ‘You know i really was up for it until i remembered you were in the band again. What happened to them finding a new bass player?�� ‘You should be grateful i’m stuck to bass, I was gonna be the lead’ ‘Now you say it i am grateful you’d do anything but sing.’

‘Hey guys are going to go get food you coming with?’ Josh stood up and asked the both of us

‘No we’re good’ I looked at Bobby because i was really hungry and wanted food but i knew if id asked ryan he’d get me something ‘I’ll stay here, Can you get me something Ryan?’ ‘Yeah course, be back in an hour’

And with that the other boys left and it was just Bobby and I. Earlier I mentioned how it was always a comfortable silence with Bobby however this silence felt different. It felt like there was something needed to be said or something needing to happen. And I feel like he sensed the same. He looked over at me opening his mouth like he was going to say something. That was until I looked over in his direction. He shut his mouth and looked the other way scratching the back of his neck. Strange.

We sat on our phones for about 5 minutes until I broke the silence.

‘Bird bingo?’ ‘I thought you’d never ask!’ I rolled my eyes but there was really nothing else to do.

Both of us sat either side of the small coffee table places on the floor as he set up the game. I sat opposite him waiting for him to finish. ‘Let’s make this game different’ He looked up and hummed in response confused. ‘Let’s do some forfeits, everytime one of us loose a round we do something the other person wants’ in reply he just smirked at me laughing a bit. ‘Don’t smirk at me Robert I’m winning’ ‘We’ll see’

With that the first round started. It started off with shots being taken to us telling eachother random secrets and doing a small Q&A. It didn’t take long for it to get more heated and serious. ‘Next one i win…’ he lent in a bit till i could feel his breath. ‘We kiss’. ‘Okay’ i just smiled not knowing what else to say in response. I really wanted to but Ryan would be so pissed off if he knew.

And he won that round. That’s how it all started a silly game of bird bingo. That night when no one else was around we couldn’t keep our hands off of eachother sharing kisses whenever we could and having small makeout sessions in secret places. The boys were performing on stage and Bobby couldn’t take his eyes off of me when all of a sudden ‘Who’s your money on (plastic house)’ started playing.

‘Who’s your money on Dublin?’ Eli announced to the crowd as they started yelling out names of the band. I looked over at Bobby and i saw him mouth to me ‘Who’s your money on??’ I yelled ‘BOBBY!’ which caused him to laugh and walk towards Ryan at the back who was playing the drums. I took my phone out and started recording them for a little bit of the ending since this was one of my favourite Inhaler songs. It wasn’t long until the show ended and i was making my way back towards the green room when all of a sudden i got pulled through a door outside by the tour buses. Bobby stood there with the same look on his face he’s had all night pulling out a cigarette lighting it and then holding it out to me. ‘I don’t want this to be a one night thing’ he said taking a puff and blowing it out making deep eye contact with me. ‘Neither’ I said taking the cigarette back into my lips this time he was holding it which led him to pull me against him as we smoked together. We both stood in silence until it was stumped out sharing a quick kiss which tasted nicotine before heading back inside before the fans started coming out or even one of the others.

liked by bobbyskeetz, graciebrns and 4,829 others

y/nusername : who the feck are inhaler? (and if anyone can tell me who this man is staring at me lmk so i can block him xx)

user : who are inhaler?

➥ y/nusername : idk. u tell me x

bobbyskeetz : that might be me? i’m not sure though. just a thought.

➥ y/nusername : yeah it doesn’t look like you x

user : damn 2 pics of bobby we are being fed.

➥ user : and im eating them all up

elijahhewson : the best band ever

➥ y/nusername : dream on.

graciebrns : my wife

➥ bobbyskeetz : back off shes mine.

➥ y/nusername : bobby.

➥ ryanmcmahon_15 : what.

➥ bobbyskeetz : oops.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Now here we are. Bobby and I secretly dating. Ever since that night we’ve been inseparable. Ryan has been questioning why i’ve wanted to come to the shows so much now recently or why i always want to be around him and boys but he couldn’t know. You recently moved into your own apartment in Dublin still close enough to Ryan but also further enough to feel like you have your own space. Bobby has been round all the time even sleeping over. We’ve had a few close calls but now it’s just our little secret.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Author : This one is a little bit better but still bad. Gimme prompts 🙏🙏 (with anyone, if ik who they r) - Matilda xx

[moonlightyong]

“his eyes break into me and i read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. it reads “you”.

– pairing: yuta nakamoto x fem!reader [self-insert reader, written from “I” pov]

– genre: light fluff, mostly suggestive

– wc: 2221 words [one shot]

– warnings: yuta and reader are ridiculously in love AND horny, there’s a lot of sexual tension in there, t e a s i n g, long ass make out session, switch undertones for the both of them (but ig you could say yuta is mostly the one in control), reader is a lil’ brat and our man sir nakamoto absolutely loves it, kinda possessive behavior at some point (?), yuta is a brat tamer who’s disgustingly and desperately enamored with the reader (lucky for him, she also is)

– author’s note: alright alright team, here’s this lil’ piece of writing i came up with not so long ago. i had just watched the bat mv and let’s just say mister nakamoto got me weak… next thing u know, i was writing this lil’ thingy and getting mentally consumed by the idea of [red-haired, biker, dressed in all black] yuta nakamoto. anyway, feedback is highly appreciated and without further ado; enjoy!!

– playlist:

the bat – nct u

blinding lights – the weeknd

into it – chase atlantic

half of my heart – josh makazo

crazy in love – sofia karlberg

I can still feel his hot breath there. It’s like tattooed on the bridge of my neck. He owns every pulse of my body, as small and discreet as they may be. He knows he’s the maestro of every sound I utter at unholy hours of the night. His eyes, dark and unpredictable, pierce through me, through the veil of my soul and read all of my secrets. The secrets I have for myself, for strangers and for the world. He knows my body like a handmade map, one he would’ve solely drawn in a dream of his; like the back of a hill, of a secluded meadow submerged by lilies and daffodils in the backyard of someone. Maybe I should’ve kissed him longer. Maybe I should’ve held him longer.

I’m accustomed to his taste, a cherry-like tint tattooed in the back of my brain. His handprints grew canyons in the anchor of my hips and I shiver every time my fingers graze against those haphazard souvenirs. His catchy lips burn crimson paint like candle wax on my skin and it’s so hard to feel regretful of them once the morning comes. The moonlight taints his body like a second skin and I feel even more enamored with him once his shadow is overcast with the glazing colors of the moon. His brown irises burn through me with hope and love and I glance back at him with empty promises of eternity. His name is engraved somewhere on my elbow and mine is forever mingled with the strings of his heart. I breathe in and he breathes out. We look at each other through heavy eyelids and find peacefulness in our embrace. I trace the pale skin of his left arm and imagine myself laying there for the rest of my days. He kisses the top of my head and puts a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear. And then, we both know we’ll do it all over again tomorrow.

[03:58 a.m]

Johnny’s House, Hongdae District

His rough hands find their way around my waist like the way back home. His lips instinctively pepper soft kisses down the stream of my neck; a way to greet me, a way to soften my mind. And, right as a familiar wind of warmth unravels in the deepest part of my lower body, he gives me the signal my whole being has been awaiting —and he secretly has been waiting for as well— : “Let’s go”. And just like that, we’d leave our friends behind at whatever party we were at and hop on his dark red Kawasaki. We ride into the night, the darkness of the city falling upon us like a cape and the blinding lights of high buildings and streetlights guiding us towards our sinful destination. And, just like every other night, I’d end up with my back pressed against his off-white wall as his hands would roam around my body, senselessly yet meaningfully. Then, his long fingers would take hold of my face and have me look up at him. A fire glances back at me from the depth of his gaze and, although I’m afraid I’d get burnt if I dared catch it, an irreproachable force in the seed of my soul pushes me to get closer and graze said fire. And I do. I get on my tippy-toes and press a kiss on the borders of his lips. Such an act, I suppose, is enough to light up the flame in his core. His hands hold my face tighter, closer, as if I was a dove and he was afraid I’d fly away if he were to loosen his grip for even a second. His soul bleeds in the grip of my touch and I paint his mouth with colors of my own. Each step we take brings us closer to the other, each grasp on each other’s body is a bit more powerful, leaving us with an unrivalled longing for the other’s touch. His eyes break into me and I read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. It reads “You”.

The epitome of desire rises in us like a treasured sunrise and all we’re thinking of is how to have all of each other at once. His fingers then trace along the lines of my body like a sacred poem, one he would recite to the stars every night right before heading to the land of faded dreams. I get lost in the overwhelming sensation of him, waiting, anticipating and craving for more. And, by the sole flutter of my eyelashes followed by a sound his soul cherishes, oh, so much, he gets the hint of what it is that I desire more than anything on this lonely night. The amber resting in the chambers of his onyx gaze then catches fire, like it was always meant to. A pleading sign of authorization flashes through his inky eyes and I, reading him like a book my past self wrote fifty-thousand years ago, start unbuttoning his dark shirt. The feeling of his rough skin melting upon my soft fingertips somewhat feels like an oxymoron, and yet, it’s like they’ve always belonged there. I patch up the torn areas of his skin with a stamp of my lips, so that he can remember me when I’m gone, so that I can find my way back there later on.

Slowly but surely, I make my way down the column of his torso, leaving purple-tinted evidence of my existence on the lands of his body. His wondrous whispers encourage me to keep going on my quest, to sow more seams of my eternal love for him on the road of ecstasy. And when I nibble a tempting patch of skin right under his symbolic butterfly tattoo at the extremity of his left side and then latch my tongue to underline the now bruised golden skin, I feel him shiver under my touch. Pride dances a waltz with the corners of my mouth right as an enchanting melody leaves the trenches of his throat. The simple consequences of what I’ve done to his body paired with the view of me kneeling right before him creates a dark tornado birthed in a cracked abyss of pleasure at the pit of his core.

A phantom aura of hopelessness and helplessness rejoicing in the definition of “skinny love” wavers above him, slowly lingering across his singular features. “The things you do to me…” A mumble just as loud as a whisper resonates in the house and in my inner walls, deep within. I look up at him, his enamored expression scratching my soul with melancholy and his gaze holding mine captive for the better. He looks disheveled in a metaphorical sense, a cry for surrender glistening in the catacombs of his eyes. I crack a smile at his state, the state I put him in. Suddenly, he grabs my forearms and puts me back up. We’re facing each other again, an electrifying tension, murderous to the touch, moving between our aching bodies. I look up at him with the word ‘challenge’ spelled out in my irises, reflecting the dilemma in his own. The daring glaze in my stare does not miss him and I’m standing there, anxiously and impatiently waiting for him to do something, anything. Yet, the ruined look flickering at the surface of the charcoal pool that are his eyes alert me of something; he still is bewitched by my touch, he still wants more of me. As a grin takes over my features, his are still soft with a newly found drop of harshness right in the middle. His silk-like hands wrap around my jawline like the clouds gently welcome the night sky after dusk and then, astonishingly, he pulls my face closer to his in a harsh tug. “You know you drive me crazy, don’t you, angel?” He no longer looks wrecked. The previously ruined look shining in his eyes had set and let a newly yet familiar assertive look rise in their premises. I swallow, hard. It is now his turn to grin.

Goosebumps cover my entire skin and my heartbeat is having a race against the million thoughts running through my mind. Yuta, on the opposite, looks pretty confident. Serene, even. And yet, as scared as I look, a wave of excitement is crashing against my chest and a flash of desire is coursing through my mellow eyes. Yuta’s own eyes catch with amusement, cling onto that hint delivered by my deepest self. And, in less than a second it takes to let out a breath, to think a thought, his lips crash into mine. It’s a kiss fueled by hunger, by lust, by mesmerism. Our bodies are trapped in an endless kind of colliding, yet, our souls feel like we’re barely touching. They need more. We need more. In a sudden rush, he takes off my tank top and I’m more than content by his action. His hands start roaming freely on my body, exploring a location he knows like the back of his hand. He lets the weight on his eyelids get the best of him as his mind, heart and soul get lost in the crevices of my essence. Yuta, as the cocky motherfucker that he is, is sure of many things. But one thing he is the most certain of is that nobody on this earth knows my body like he does. He is sure he could paint it; curves and bones, flesh and light, even the smallest details like that mole I have right under my left eye. And I don’t doubt him on that.

Once his eyes flutter back open, I’m greeted by an amorous glint in them. He looks at me like he held the whole world right there, in the palms of his hands, and whispers in a tone that could only be painted in honey: “I was made for you, love”. His hands caress the outlines of my face in the softest way known to mankind and the love he has in his eyes deepen, “And you…” His right hand lands a sharp slap on my behind, making me let out a shaky whine, not expecting the sudden change in his behavior yet not minding it a bit. I then jump up and he catches me in a steady hold, wrapping my legs around him as his hands ease the dazzling, scarlet-tinted stinging on my ass. His grip tightens and I can perfectly feel the flexing of his arms around me, a dizzying warmth taking over my whole being. This sudden act and incredulous proximity result in our foreheads ending up against each other. As his eyes bore into mine, he mutters in a hoarse voice: “You were made for me”. His slow breath rakes across the skin on my face like a cold yet welcoming breeze.

And as I’m getting accustomed to the growth of serenity and tenderness in the hollow of his eyes, I unexpectedly feel a demonic tingle in the soil of my bottom lip. Yuta had bitten it, leaving an iron taste behind and soothing it with delicate kisses. Said kisses slowly but surely grow into a more passionate, inflammable and straining one. I can feel my skin tingling and my five senses are tremendously alert. I rake my fingers through his long, red hair and tug at the ends. This single action takes him by surprise and has him dropping his head down, letting out a low growl against my neck. He then smirks —either in an attempt to hide the effect I have on him or because of the tiny whimper I just failed to hold captive behind my lips. I instinctively graze my nails against the lanes of his back the moment I feel him shift against me. My doing on his back must’ve been doing wonders because his eyes dive into mine with a darkness of their own; a warning one. A warning for what is about to come, a forethought of what I had gotten myself into. And this kind of threat makes my body shudder with contemplation. Therefore, I decide to push his buttons even more. I look back at him with a tint of innocence, of obliviousness, and flutter my eyelashes at him as my hand brushes a specific place down south where I know he needs me the most.

I never, ever knew his ebony eyes could get a shade darker until I’ve seen it right there, with my own two eyes. And, as I expected, my plan is a success. The purity swimming around in my irises sends him over the edge. And, without breaking eye-contact with me, Yuta pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue —a dear habit of his. However, during this moment, it feels more frightening —and a tiny bit more exciting— than usual. “You like torturing me baby, don’t you?” His low tone bears a glimpse of playfulness in it, yet, it’s a mischievous one. He definitely has something in mind. And if his arched eyebrow and the whimsical glint in his eyes weren’t indicative of it, his next words definitely are.

“Well, it’ll be my pleasure to teach you how to behave”.

hope u enjoyed reading this one shot! don’t hesitate to tell me ur thoughts about it, it’d be an honor to read them :]

★彡

[saintmagx]

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

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“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

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First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

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Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.  

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[that-was-tedious]

I have had a minute to process. And I will say I was right about two things, one that Tommy was engaged to Abby once upon a time and that being the thing to break them up, and two that Buck would go straight to Eddie after he and Tommy broke up.

Now for the things I did not expect and the thoughts I had on them:

Josh saying that Buck lives in a post Glee world. Now, Josh DID have a point. But if the timeline of the show is the timeline of when it aired, Abby and Tommy would have been engaged from like 2015-2017. Glee ENDED in 2015. So. This doesn’t super work here? I get what he’s saying and it’s definitely true but the logic could have been better.

Eddie saying he’s straight. Yes, this can be thought of like the writers saying OKAY WE GET IT BUT NO. But I’m not so sure that’s what’s going on here? We will come back to this so put a pin in it for now.

Tommy breaking up with Buck BLINDSIDED me. It makes sense, in the long run. Tommy is afraid of Buck not loving him long term because he’s “the first” and the tears were wholly unexpected. But narratively, Buck has been the one that’s been broken up with. Left behind, so to say. Tommy is protecting himself (and that’s okay! I get it, weird choice but sure) but he’s hurting them both in the process. Put a pin in this as well.

Okay back to Eddie. The well/drainpipe didn’t go how anyone expected, but I think that’s for a reason. Has anyone else noticed we’re seeing Eddie’s Greatest Hits here? The couple fighting, the divorcing couple, the kid in the well, and next week the guy on hotshots stuck on the ladder like Buck after the lightning? The only things we skipped over were Shannon dying and the tsunami, and I really don’t think we’re going one for one here. But we’re bringing up a lot of his old traumas so maybe he’ll reflect on that???

Then we have the mustache shaving scene. Did ANYONE expect that? No? Good, me neither. I didn’t hate it? I liked the idea of an emotional thing, but I’ll take Ryan Guzman dancing to Old Time Rock and Roll in no pants. (Also going to answer the door like that? Slutty as hell, 10/10).

I did expect Buck to show up, because (remember the pin I told you to put in place? Here’s where the come up again), in the end it’s always going to Buck and Eddie choosing each other. Is it romantic? Idk maybe. I know I’d like it to be, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter if it’s not. They’re each others ride or die, Eddie doesn’t question that Buck is there, he just takes the beer and shrugs because he has his back. They’re going to choose each other because it’s a safe space for both of them, someone who chose them. Eddie and Buck chose each other, neither of them have left like so many before, and they’re going to stick together and it always comes back to the two of them. Again, it might not end up romantic, but they’re still it for each other in a huge way. (I’m BEGGING for canon Buddie tho.)

I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of Tommy, but then again maybe we have? Maybe he’s served a purpose in Buck’s narrative? Also to all of the bucktommy’s predicting it was Buck asking Tommy to move in….congratulations on being right and I’m sorry that’s how it went down. (Side note to anyone still reading that’s been in normal relationships, is six months too soon to move in? Especially because it doesn’t seem like they’ve said I love you’s yet? Please advise I’ve only been in unhinged relationships.)

Anyway all of this is a long winded way to say that I don’t think we can count Buddie out, as they’re each others safe space, but we’ll see as time goes on. I’ll settle for gay Eddie and a platonic shaped relationship between the two of them.

PS: Abby how are you still messing with Bucks life? STOP IT.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

[xxswagcorexx]

please may I have some fic recs? mainly ones that will have me kicking my feet and giggling- nothing too serious but a light read: the vibes of stand partners by eternal kind of.

hi! i haven't read stand partners yet but i skimmed through the tags and here are some ones i like/hit the same vibe :) it is very long though </3

Pretty Things by ros_is_writing

Laying facedown on the bed was his partner Ashswag, the only other person with keys to Red’s apartment. When he heard Red come into the room he rolled over onto his back and sat up, dark braid flipping over his shoulder at the change of gravity. “Welcome home,” Ash grinned, eyes crinkling in laughter. “This is my house,” Red noted. He put a hand on his hip and looked at Ash over his sunglasses, a joking form of their normal rivalry. “Yeah, but I was here first,” Ash rolled his eyes and scooted off the bed. He casually strolled across the room like he wasn’t the highlight of Red’s day and dropped a kiss into his hair.

Red sees an ostrich by Anonymous

“I don’t think you were smiling this much even when we got married.” “Ash, there wasn't ostriches at our wedding.” “You're allergic to ostriches.” Swagdoons fluff (OOC)

(oh,) to be a comfort by Felix_J

"It is good here, people say." Ash mutters. The words tug at his throat, and it's a bit hard to breathe. He'll manage. "Good place to take your partner." "Says Josh?" Red quirks an eyebrow. Moves his other hand, then, the one that's free, to rest on his knee, and it's where he must register the metal against the palm. Ash stares off silently. He thinks they say not to look at the sun for a reason, because it's too beautiful as it bleeds red into the ocean. But hey, the S.U.N. is the new sun, so they are, and really, the tiny reflections of it in Red's eyes when he hangs his head feel way more important. Just... not easier, to look at. He blinks the tears off. Unlike someone, he doesn't have sunglasses, so that he can admit. "Says Josh." He agrees quietly.

away from the winds by Anonymous

Ash, because he’s a bastard and has never heard of a healthy sleep schedule, shows up at his doorstep at six on the dot. He’s sitting in the kitchen when Red finally stumbles downstairs, spinning the key Red gave him months ago around his fingers with a shit-eating grin on his face.

after closing time by cherubium

after a busy day at the casino, the casino quartet decide to rest.

overdosed on sugar and holiday high by Anonymous

“Morning Ash,” Red greets, supported with a small wave. And as an afterthought, Red adds, “Merry Christmas.” Because he’s soft like that, then to balance the statement, he continues, “Can’t believe you’re still working during the holidays like some capitalist contributing to society.“

Counting Stars by Dreamshadow2

Lifesteal can be extremely dangerous at times. Usually, you can never relax. But some days, when things get a bit too much, you just need some time to relax, to be yourself. Or: ScamDuo stargazing, tons of fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic

(hello) my old heart by Anonymous

What he doesn’t ask is why Ash chooses, over and over, to step through that door, through Lifesteal and Earthbound and the wastelands of an apocalypse. The void knows how many other worlds they’ve followed each other through without a second thought.

sir thats my emotional support human by oneirogen

god!ash sleeping while hugging red to his chest like an oversized plushie. send post

something stupid by starbamnk

'I love you.' Ash had to stop himself from choking. That's not how they were here. It ached, but that wasn't how things were.

.

ALSO i usually don't rec my own fics but i've written so much fluff that i figured i should share it with you too anon . also willow swagcore author reveal too i guess LOL

.

fallin' in love

Ash and Red go to a pumpkin patch on their day off.

it’s no big deal (that i love you)

Sometimes Ash understands people when they call him and Red a couple. They are partners, in a sense, but not in that way. After all, when you’ve spent so long as enemies, survivalists, comrades, even, you notice a lot about the other person. From tracking down Red’s movements to stealing that stupid bell from Capital City, to pressing down on wounds and praying it didn’t get infected, they’ve been through everything. Been through the happy, sad, and angry tears together, and everything else in-between. But of course, everything they did had to be a business deal—a private agreement between just both of them. or: ashswag has some thoughts about red while they fall asleep together (ft. swagdoons qpr)

i'd duet again

Neither of them remembers when their morning ritual started, but in the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t matter. The fact is that Red would be the one to wake up first, get ready, start the coffee machine for Ash, and start playing his guitar in the garden. or: ash and red's morning duet

homemade comforts

If Red was being honest, he reveled in moments like this. Moments when Ash and he were far away from all of the violence, all of the responsibilities, and away from any prying eyes around them. Just Ash and Red, cooking together in their shitty little kitchenette that only fits two people.

four of a kind

Ash, Branzy, Clown, and Red close up the casino for the week.

best friends

As they ran back through the streets, they let the rain pour down on them, because they were already drenched. They cackled like madmen throughout it all and in that moment, both of them knew that they had something special. And they were going to get such a bad cold after this. or: how red and ash meet, and how they become friends

temporal

while the world melts around them, ash and red spend the night dancing. that's the fic.

jenga tower

"Dude-" Ash says through a wheezed breath, "Do you think this a little much?" Clown hums, "Mmm, no. I think you're just fineee." "Exactly," Red chimes in, definitely not helping the 'hey wouldn't it be funny if we all laid on Ash?' cause. or: casino quartet turn into a human jenga tower. for roses and smoke week, free day

curtains

It's 7pm, and Ash and Red are exhausted after a 12 hour day of moving. Ends up they forgot the fucking curtains.

[hero-israel]

Do you think there will be any long term effects of a lot of American Jews realizing how much significant potions of the left cheer Jewish death? Like is most of the fear of insane DSA people held off by how supportive Biden is of the Jewish people and the overwhelming bipartisan response to the massacre? Or do we see something akin to the French Jewish experience where American Jews increasingly feel isolated and make Aliyah?

It's a lot of all of that. And the problem is that the natural Jewish tendency towards hypervigilance and threat awareness can make things seem even worse than they are. The line between screaming marchers and murderous pogromists is very thin - and it looks gone altogether when you know you can't take the risk, when you know you're "better fled than dead".

It is extremely important that we have so far seen emphatic support for Jewish safety and Israel's self-defense from basically every level of the government, and that the police forces have proven they are on the side of protecting Jews and Jewish institutions and taking threats against us seriously. And yes, that means parting from the standard leftist songs about the police.

I mentioned recently that the generally rejected and unaccomplished nature of American Leftists could wind up protecting Jews. There's like 49.7% of the country that's still pro-Trump, nearly all Democrats like Biden and would be perfectly happy if Gretchen Whitmer or Josh Shapiro became President tomorrow. It just doesn't seem likely that DSA's river-to-the-sea types could gain real political power. But watch out for it. Because if the danger starts to come from the government, from the police forces - THEN it's time to leave. Watch out in particular for things like this.

[v4mpire-empire]

anything for you - an until dawn mini fic

josh- mines

"Hannah? Is that you?"

Hannah grabs him by the collar and stares him deep in the eye. Her piercing, peeling eyes. Her body all wrong.. contorted and skinny and too big. Her jaw, wide and angry. Her teeth.. or fangs were stained with blood and small chunks of human flesh. She looked worse than any monster Josh would see in picture books and read about in folk tales. She could easily tear him apart in seconds. And he knew she was going too.

Josh had never been so afraid, but also somewhat.. calm. Because at least he would die at the hands of his sister.

He closes his eyes.

He was ready.

"i'm sorry"

He wasn't just apologising to Hannah. It was to everyone. To Sam, to Chris, and to everyone he had wronged tonight and all his life.

-

His heart skips a beat. His body hit the floor. He hit his head, and he hit it hard. Through his blurred and disorientated vision, he could make out the long skinny figure of the wendigo - no, his sister, running away. She was hungry for death and disaster, but not her brother's - well, at least not for now.

The world span around him, laughing at him, mocking him.

His eyes fell shut.

His world became a blur.

-

Josh would wake up occasionally. Maybe it was a gust of wind slapping his face awake, or the footsteps of danger, or maybe, just his body trying to keep him alive. Who knows.

How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Days?

He was finally awake for longer than a few minutes. He pulled himself up with all his force and stood still for a moment, adjusting to his bleak surroundings. Was this a hallucination?

No. This was real. And he needed to move.

Josh took a step forward and nearly fell. He halted and peered over the body of water in front of him. To be able to escape this hell, he would have to cross the water to get to the other side.

Fuck.

He plunged into the water, wincing, dizzy, disorientated. If he passed out in the ice cold water, he wouldn't survive. But the odds didn't look like they were in his favour...

-

sam- blackwood pines police department

" I know how much you want him to be alive, Sam! But you saw it happen. That thing... it fucking took him!"

"She. She took him. Hannah took him. And.. I don't care what you think, Mike. I can feel it. He's alive. I don't give a fuck if I sound insane right now, because I know. I know he's still there.. cold... alone.. helpless. I have to get him out of there. "

Sam turned back around to finish her packing, stuffing anything that could come handy into her backpack as fast as she could. She already wasted too much time doing that fucking interview and getting a small amount of first aid. As if a bandage would actually help right now, she scoffed.

There wasn't much to bring with her. After all, she was in a police department. All the stuff that could protect her was locked away. She could only find a lighter, a bottle of vodka, and the new set of clothes the police department had given her.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut and locked.

"I'm sorry,Sam."

Mike.

"But.. we can't let you go back. Not after.. what we saw.. what we've been through. We're actually alive. We survived this crazy fucking night. If you go back, you know what will happen to you."

" MIKE, OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR"

Sam pounded at the door, screaming. But she stopped as soon as she started. If she really wanted to get out of here as fast as possible, she would have to be calm and clever about it. She had about 12 hours of daylight left to get back, find josh , and get out of the mountains before it was dark. Dark would mean the wendigos would begin their hunt.

The plan.. it was ambitious. Too much, too fast.. too risky...

But Sam was prepared to die trying.

If anyone actually read this, thank you! Hope you enjoyed it and lmk if you want a part 2 :)

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Yeah…so…hi 👋🏻

It’s 💛. First of all, I’m very good thanks for asking. Just trying to get through university right now. I hope your last few days of high school go well. I know it can be a stressful time, but you got this!

So, anyways, I am now obsessed with your break the cycle fic. It’s awesome. I would inject it into my veins if I could. It’s so angsty and ugh I just love it so much. I was wondering if you could possibly do a sequel to it. Maybe Clancy being determined to get the reader to see the truth and trying to integrate her more into the Bandito camp? It could end angsty again with her still not believing them or it could end fluffy with them truly reuniting and teaming up against Dema. Either way I would die for.

Please, I beg of thee. This story quite literally may be my new obsession.

Break the Cycle Part 2 - Clancy x Reader

PART 1 + PART 3

Relationship: Tyler Joseph/Clancy x Fem!Reader and Josh/Torchbearer x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Violence, anything related to Dema or the Trench story that's generally triggering. Angst

Word Count: 2027 - it's long bestie!

A/N: I'm glad you're doing well! Break the Cycle is one I'm super proud of. I just loved writing a fresh out of Dema Clancy and pov because being in a situation like that, you don't just automatically change your mind on how you've been raised (we literally see Clancy not being able to break the cycle himself and for him to expect the reader to instantly believe him when it's taken him so long to get where he is just isn't realistic hence why part 2 is what it is). Hope this does part 1 justice and cannot wait for your next request!

“It means he loves you, idiot. You just have to break the cycle,” Josh muttered, before leaving me alone in the tent. Surprisingly, the weather was warmer out in Trench than it was back in Dema. The jacket I’d swiped from my room before leaving the city was starting to stick to my skin and sweat was dripping down my forehead. I tried flicking my hair so it would get out my face but it just made it fall down more. I couldn’t sit in this tent for much longer. I’d had nothing to drink for at least 3 hours–and it wasn’t like I could just get up and walk away. 

“Let me go!” I begged, calling out and trying to get the attention of anyone who would listen to me. Nothing. Tears started to stream down my face, a sick feeling rushing through my body. Keons hadn’t betrayed the other bishops, of course he hadn’t. He wouldn’t have just sent me off for nothing. A shadow cast over the side of the tent as the fabric rustled in the wind. “Hello?” I called out, waiting for some sort of response. Tyler stepped inside and sat down in front of me, completely silent. He had his mask in his hand and all I could think about was how different he looked–a couple new scars scattered across his face from battles I could only imagine. I wondered how he really got them. He looked stoic, calm even. I wanted to run, I wanted to punch him in the face and run far far away. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me Tyler?” I scoffed. 

“It’s Clancy,” he answered bluntly.  

“I don’t care what it is,” I snapped, feeling the restraints on my wrists dig into my skin. “You’re Tyler to me.” As much as I wished he was still the same as before he’d clearly changed. Josh had mentioned that Trench had a way of changing people and the evidence was sitting right in front of me. Tyler nodded, his demeanor remaining serious. 

“Josh has asked me to show you around the camp,” he spoke. “Promise me you won’t run away Artemis.” He used the name Sacarver had gifted me, I cringed, not wanting to hear it escape his lips. 

“I’m not going to run away.” I held up the restraints and he moved to release me. Before I could rub the irritated skin he gripped my wrists and ran his fingers over them, a slight burning sensation rushed over the reddened lines. His touch reminded me of how we used to be, back when everything was normal–back when he was still mine. “It hurts,” I winced. 

“I think you’ll be okay. Let’s go,” he muttered, getting up and holding the door open for me. 

It was brighter outside than in the tent, my eyes needed a couple minutes to adjust. The warm air entered my nose, bringing a sense of clarity to my lungs. That was the one thing about Trench that I liked. The air felt crisp, clean. In Dema the air always felt polluted, dirty. “I thought you’d like the air, you used to complain a lot about feeling you were suffocating back home,” Tyler recalled. He was right, I used to complain about it a lot, so much so that our friends could predict when I was about to start a complaining session. I didn’t answer Tyler. I couldn’t bring myself to. We continued to walk through the camp as several banditos including Jenna greeted us. Josh was nowhere to be seen. I was shown the storage chests where all the food was kept as well as the huge bonfire at the center of the camp. I could tell why Tyler liked it better here than in Dema. There were more colors, I’d never seen so much green in one place. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” 

I nodded in agreement. Tyler reached down and held my hand, intertwining our fingers and rubbing the calloused pad of this thumb over the back of my right hand. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting each other. 

“It’s beautiful Tyler, but we should go home. Keons seemed really worried about you,” I sighed. He gripped my hand tighter, clearly telling me that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

“Artemis, at least try to call me Clancy,” he insisted, “and I’ve already told you, Keons has betrayed the Bishops and is likely dead by now.” I dropped his hand and started to walk away towards the edge of the mountain. I wasn’t going to stand there and be convinced that my entire life had been a lie, that one of the two bishops who genuinely cared about me was dead. Tyler wasn’t going to do that to me, I wouldn’t let him. 

“Wait! You can’t just leave! Artemis!!” He stayed where he was, calling after me but refusing to leave the camp. A small part of me wished he would follow me, beg me to stay, explain everything, but he didn’t. As I reached the end of the mountain, I stopped and sat down, a circle of yellow flowers surrounding the border of the clearing. I squinted my eyes, looking off into the distance. If I looked properly, I could see the little gray dot that I’d known as my home for so many years. The sound of footsteps thumped behind me, causing me to turn around to see who it was. Josh. 

“What are you doing here?” I questioned. He hadn’t been around all day, clearly something had been more important than making sure I was okay. Torchbearer duties. 

“Clancy has informed me that you tried to run off,” he explained, sitting down next to me. 

“I didn’t!” I huffed, running a hand through my hair. “I just–I just needed some space.” Josh nodded, taking in what I was saying. He was the exact definition of a good leader: someone who was brave, someone who cared, someone who was a good listener. 

“You’re allowed to have some space.” I nodded in response. The air turned still as neither of us said a word. “You know, Clancy’s just worried about you. He–We wish you would see things our way,” Josh continued. “I really think you should just sit down with him and be open to hearing what he has to say.” He was right. I really did need to have a proper conversation with Tyler–no matter how hard it seemed. Josh got up, reaching his hand out to help me up with him. “I’ll help you find him Y/N.”

“Y/N?” I questioned, wondering why he was using my proper name. 

“I think you need a little familiarity till you settle in here,” he smiled kindly, leading us toward Tyler’s tent. The sun was starting to set when we arrived back at camp. Josh motioned for me to wait while he talked to Tyler. I stood outside, looking out across the camp. It was calm, no worries of being caught out after curfew and being dragged to the bishops. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Jenna walked by, stopping to talk to me. 

“Artemis, right? She smiled at me warmly. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Josh–Torchbearer wants me to talk to Ty–Clancy. He thinks he’ll be able to change my mind about everything,” I revealed. 

“You know,” she said, “when Clancy got here, all he talked about was you. ‘Artemis is in trouble, I have to go back for Artemis, I miss her’, and constantly begging Torchbearer to let him go back.” I hadn’t realized Tyler cared that much, that he’d missed me just as much as I had him. That he’d actually tried to go back for me. 

“Y/N you can come in now,” Josh’s voice called from inside. I looked at Jenna and before I knew it her arms were wrapped around me. 

“If you ever need anything, come find me,” she hummed. No one in Dema was ever that happy–or willing to go out of their way to help others. I didn’t even think I’d ever been that happy before–except with Tyler. I nodded, resting my chin on her shoulder. 

“You coming?” Josh stuck his head out the door. “Oh, sorry!” he pulled an apologetic face, causing me to hold in a chuckle. Jenna said a quick goodbye to me and mouthed ‘good luck’ before continuing her stroll. I smiled to myself before entering the tent. The air was getting cooler as the sun went down and soon I would need extra layers. Both Josh and Tyler  were sitting there whispering to each other and while I couldn't hear what they were saying I could 100% tell the tone of the conversation was sharp. When they realized I was standing there they immediately stopped. 

“I should go finish my rounds,” Josh said, getting up and flicking me a wink before leaving us alone. Tyler looked like he wanted him to stay–like he didn’t want to be alone with me. “Tyler–Clancy,” I started, clearly trying to communicate clearly. “Can we–”

“Stop,” he interrupted, reaching his arms out to me. “Come here.” His voice was soft but determined, full of purpose. I moved closer, allowing him to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Before we say anything, I’m sorry that I expected you to instantly change your views about Dema. That wasn’t fair,” he sighed. 

“It’s okay. Josh helped me realize this place isn’t so bad, it’s actually kind of beautiful. And Jenna–she told me you really missed me when you first got out,” I said, watching a small smile grow on his face. 

“I did miss you, a lot.” I tilted my head so I could get a proper look at him. Tears started to well in my eyes as I grew overwhelmed at the amount of new information I’d received in the last 48 hours. “Are you okay?” Tyler brushed a strand of hair out of my face and cupped my face, a concerned look planted on his. I nodded, desperately trying to hold back the tears. “Gosh Y/N, I didn’t realize this would be so hard for you.” He used my old name as his eyes searched mine, looking for something, some sort of meaning to this. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, the cinderblock of weight pressing harder and harder with each breath I took. Shallow sobs escaped my lips as Tyler wiped the salty tears from my cheeks. 

I let out a loud sigh before speaking, “I thought you were dead Ty. I genuinely thought you were dead and I was going to have to return to Dema and tell Keons and the bishops.” I shook my head, attempting to shake the thoughts out of my head. Tyler let out comforting shushes, trying to ease the pain I was feeling. 

“Hey, hey, I’m here. I’m alive. I’ve got you here on the floor, in a tent, in Trench, away from Dema. I’ve got you. We are both here, and safe, and alive,” he hushed. Tyler always knew how to ground me when I was upset. He gently rubbed the sides of my face with his thumbs, easing me into relaxation, the tears slowly stopping. I took a deep breath, letting Trench’s clean air circulate my lungs. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe Trench was safer than Dema. 

“Tyler?–shit sorry, Clancy?” 

Tyler chuckled under his breath. “It’s okay Y/N. We can take it slow. Tyler’s okay.”

I nodded before continuing. “I–I love you still. You know that, right?” I could feel the warmth of his breath against my face. 

“I never stopped loving you,” he replied, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine. I could feel the desperation behind every motion. It wasn’t a long kiss, something soft and tender–a reminder of what we still had. When we broke apart, I brought my hand to the back of his neck and leant my forehead against him. 

“I think I believe you Tyler, about the bishops and Dema, all of it.”

He smiled. Things were okay. We were safe. For now at least.

//

I-/

Requests open!

[devox2564]

In Your Heart: Chapter 11

Jake Kizka x fem reader

Thanks for being patient with me guys! Work has been insanely busy but I’m so ready to get back to this story! -E

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ only, consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving)

You lean up against the bar, decidedly drunk. The music booms around you, invigorating you as the liquor courses through your veins. The bartender slides another drink to you without a word and you tip your head at him in a sluggish gesture of thanks.

"I think you may have had enough darling." Jake drawls, drunk himself, and curls a hand around your waist.

"I think, you should mind your own goddamn business Jacob." You shoot back, grinning wickedly at him.

He snatches the glass from your hand and downs the amber liquid in one long gulp before slamming it down on the bar. "Let's get out of here baby."

"Who says I'm going anywhere with you?" You retort, being difficult on purpose.

"I've already told the others that we're leaving, and the girls are already gone anyway." He says casually.

"What do you mean the girls are already gone?" And you turn to glance back at the dance floor, seeing no signs of any of your friends.

"Tabby made a friend about twenty minutes after we arrived. Danny left with Anika about-" he checks a watch that is definitely not on his wrist and continues, "an hour ago, and Liz is back at Josh's presumably drinking herself to death with my brothers."

You scowl at him and stumble off of your stool. You can feel him roll his eyes and begin to follow you. You make a point to exaggerate the swing in your hips.

.....

The small of your back presses against the cool granite of your kitchen countertop. Jake's hands are tangled in your hair and his lips are on yours. He'd spent the majority of the Uber ride running his fingertips along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Torturous man. Now, as he lifts you onto the counter of the island, your skirt rises dangerously high and exposes a dark pair of lace panties. Purchased especially for him. His eyes darken a bit as they light on them. He runs his fingertips along the low neckline of your top thoughtfully.

"How much does this shirt mean to you?" He slurs a bit on the word shirt.

"Not much, why?" You giggle.

Without reply, he grasps the cool fabric with both hands and you hear buttons clatter to the tile. Your breasts exposed, covered only in slips of black lace, rise and fall as your breath hitches.

"All for me?" He asks playfully as his lips meet yours again.

His kisses travel from your lips, to your jawline, and down in a winding trail between your breasts and onto your stomach. His normally steady hands are drunken against the blistering heat of your skin. He clings to you as if he'll never touch you again. His mouth brushes against your thigh and you let out a soft groan into the quiet air of the kitchen.

"Shall I have you right here in the kitchen dahhling?" He croons in that drawling accent.

"No Oliver in bed Jacob." You gasp just as his fingers brush across the delicate lace covering you.

"We're not in bed baby." He says looking up at you and draws his hand away.

"God just come here." You almost whine. Impatient for him in your drunkenness.

"So now I'm god?" His glazed eyes twinkle with repressed laughter as he comes face to face with you again.

You reply by pulling him into a crushing kiss, effectively shutting him up. The two of you meld together in a frenzy often teeth and tongue. Even since that first night, every intimate moment with him has held in it a need that demands to be met. Each glance, each sentence, every touch is as desperate as the first. You didn't know if you'd ever really been in love before Jake. And of course you hadn't told him that you were in love with him. It had only been a few months and you weren't in the business of scaring men away. Especially one this good in bed. But when the two of you fell together like this, you knew he felt the same way. Words or no. And tonight was no different.

You hear his belt buckle unclasping in one skilled hand. As you shift a bit to remove your panties, his hands firmly hold you to the counter.

He pushes them aside with a hooked finger and you feel him press against you. The slip that your wetness affords is enough to draw a whimper from your lips. He doesn't torture you long though, entering you in one swift motion. The warmth in your body is almost instant, and the steady pace that he sets combined with the inhibition of drink ensures that your first climax is not far.

He pauses for a moment and pushes you gently down so that your back presses against the cool countertop. He retreats from you and quickly slips the panties down your legs, tossing them to the side. Jake spreads your legs and lowers himself down. Waves of pleasure roll through your body as his tongue swirls and circles your clit. His fingers enter you, curling up to find your sweet spot and caressing it. You cry out into the night as you writhe beneath his incredibly talented mouth. You want to hold back. You want to draw out this pleasure for as long as possible.

"Don't hold out on me." He says as his thumb replaces his tongue while his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

"Jake.." your voice is so breathy that it's almost nonexistent.

His free hand travels to your lower stomach where he pushes your arched back down. You won't be able to hold back. The feeling growing inside you is too much. So much that you almost want it to stop. "You can't fight it baby just trust me." He croons softly.

His pace quickens and the pleasure building in your stomach explodes. Your orgasm rips through you, dripping down his hand and onto the countertop. The sensation is wholly new and unlike any feeling you've ever had before. The seconds draw out into hours as your body is wracked and your cries echo into every corner of the room. Jake does not wait for you to recover before rising to enter you again.

His thrusts are fast and desperate. The liquor running through his veins stripping him of any sense of restraint. Before you can even feel your first climax subsiding you are rolling towards your second. Your hands grip the edge of the counter above you as you lay spread before him. His hands clutch your hips so tightly that you expect to see the evidence of them branded on your skin later. Each thrust echoes the sound of skin on skin into the air. His thumb presses against your clit firmly and circles there in time with the rhythm of your bodies. Overly sensitive and swollen, this sensation pulls a strangled cry from your lips as the feeling pools again in your stomach.

You can see his orgasm approaching in the way that his brow furrows together. "Together baby. Please." He clips as his pace quickens.

Your only reply is another cry as he pushes you over the edge. At the same time you feel his release and hear his quiet moans. Jake's body stiffens and slows as he fills you up, eyes fixed on the connection between your two bodies. Your body finally relaxes as he retreats from you and you slump flat onto the counter. Your breath is still coming quickly in short ragged draws.

Jake kisses your stomach and gestures for you to take his hand. He pulls you up to sit and holds in a drunken giggle.

"What?" You ask with a laugh.

"We've got a mess to clean up." He says gesturing to the floor. The evidence of your first orgasm.

"That's all you babe. I'm going to take a shower." You smile wryly at him, hopping down and sauntering away.

He wraps his arms around you before you can get too far. His face nuzzles into your neck and he plants a soft kiss onto your shoulder. The two of you stay like this for a moment in the middle of the kitchen.

"Mmm, my girl." He says softly, swaying you from side to side.

You caress his hands, feeling the rough callouses beneath your own fingertips. You do love him. And you want to tell him. But now's not the right time. That doesn't stop the feeling from swelling in your chest and pulling tears into the corners of your eyes. You remember that night, the last time you two were this drunk together. You never would have guessed that you'd be here with him now. Just as drunk but much, much happier.

....

You wake suddenly in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep. Jake's arm is slung across your stomach and his breath is slow and steady in your ear. Slinking out from under him, you make your way to the bathroom not bothering to turn on the light. As soon as you reach the doorway you feel you stomach lurch uncomfortably. Vomit is rising up your throat and you barely make it to the toilet before emptying your stomach contents into the bowl. The cold tile presses against your knees. Vomiting up alcohol never loses its edge. It's not your first time and it won't be your last.

Finishing up, you rinse your mouth and get a few swallows of water before deciding that you're ready to go back to bed. The short distance in the dark back to your bed is normally done in a haze of sleep and relief. But tonight while you're a little more wakeful, you're a bit uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you make your way through open space. A room that normally feels so familiar is strange and foreign. You shake it off as you reach the edge of the bed and slip back beneath the covers.

Back in the safety of the bed, Jake's arms wrap around you. The sleepiness stolen by your stomach is returning now. The split second of unease has passed and you find yourself feeling silly. A grown woman, afraid of the dark? Sleep comes easy, and the feel of Jake's skin against yours distracts you from the feeling that someone in the dark might be watching.

Taglist: @freyjalw @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @sinarainbows

[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.”

-❄️🍓❄️-

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