#love the snowflake look with his jeans and hands on his lap

[warpedwings]

Misha Collins - Cardigans, Part One

For @just-misha-and-castiel, thank you for the request! Many posts about his cardigans, sweaters, and jackets to come.

📷: HeatherMarie MonicaDPhoto HillywoodShow

Part Two

[oukabarsburgblr]

drabble...hybrid au

where sousuke loves pulling on ur tail, tugging on the bone whenever you were within his vicinity or you wandered a bit too astray from your path of walking with him, in cramped places, he's made sure he had his hold on you although you'd complain how often he would grasp on your hand, his second best choice was your tail as you helplessly let him lead you around like a dog on a collar.

same thing applies in bed where he tugs you back into his cock when you began mewling and crawling away from bed because you said he was too rough, too passionate delving into your taste, lapping up your slick and slurping onto your sensitive nips, his favourite would be when he had you on your knees and he'd pull it back, watching your ass slap onto his crotch, your hole swallowing his dick with your cum coatig his base, dripping onto his thighs, his face was full of delight.

he'd pull it too when you're mad at him about something he did, just to get a bit of your attention whenever you'd give him the cold shoulder because your ass immediately perks and you'd get mad at him again for his wandering hand but all was a skit just so you would talk to him again and he can console you in anyways he can.

if your tail was long enough, he'd beg you to wrap it around his neck, letting him bury his face into the plush of your fur, inhaling your musk, your scent as he fucks you into your makeshift nest during your mating season, he wouldn't let any other human or hybrid near you, just him and his dick would be enough to stuff your hole full of cum.

daisuke wouldn't pull on your tail, he heard a myth of how animals might shit themselves if it was tugged too hard, he loved your ears though, the animal ones that act as an additional receiver to your human ears, it would twitched whenever something would brush past it while you were out of focus, a fallen snowflake, the branch of a tree or maybe even his teasing fingers sometimes he would poke into the sensitive furs, catching your attention.

he'd be more mean during sex though seeing those twitching organs, sitting casually at the head of the bed watching you ride his cock like a gamer with his joystick and he'd pull your ears back, watching you bend instinctively as you creamed around his cock, your hole squeezing around him while your own penis spurted ropes and ropes of semen onto the wrinkled sheets.

but he cares for your sensitive fluffy ears, looking up how to groom, buying expensive products for hybrids, he would be the one applying it on you, treating you like a king as he gently and affectionately brush the tips, pressing lightly along your fur with the rows of the brush, rubbing oils or moisturizer into the canal of your ears, he would consider it the top two of his favourite body part.

the number one would definitely be your mouth, he was a foreplay guy, spending hours sucking on your tongue before letting you paw and pull at his jeans, so many toys were under his bed, one of it was supposed to be for your ass but he saved it for your ears instead, a silicone clip on your ear and there was a vibrating bead humming on the shell of your ear, you didn't even know you had a kink like that, it was daisuke's, to see you go crazy on his cock while your head was spinning and spazzing out from the stimulation on your ears.

[END SCENE]

This was supposed to be short but i always take it too far. I love edging you guys💜

If sou and dai had to be an animal, sousuke would definitely be a black cat and daisuke would be a golden retriever

Taglist :

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 7: Can I Keep You?✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic is coming to a close, and I’ve loved writing every word of this one 🥹 Thank you to @lotusbxtch for beta reading 🩵 I plan to write an epilogue for this, and I may write some one-shots to throw in if I get the inspiration in the future. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me!

Summary: Christmas with your parents and the Millers was all fine, until they caught you with Joel.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Tags: A little angst, arguments, no use y/n, lots of fluff, soft Joel, switching POVs, going to omit some tags due to spoilers

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Christmas Day is here before you know it as the cool air blows against your crimson sweater. It sinks through your denim jeans as you make your way back into the house, back to where Joel and Sarah sit in the living room. A football game is playing over the flat screen, and glistening lights flash against the huge tree that sits in the corner of the room.

   Snowflakes tap lightly against the glass as your dad gives your mom the last of her gifts, your eyes flicking over to Joel as he leans into the back of the leather couch, a smile curled against the corner of his mouth as he steals glances your way every few seconds.

   God, his smile gets you every single time, making butterflies flit through your stomach as you take in the brown doe eyes that you can’t seem to keep your eyes off. You just can’t believe he’s yours. Something he reminds you every single day.

   You cling to the fleece blanket Joel gifted you, twisting your fingers against the soft material, bathing in the woodsy scent that sticks to it. And let’s not forget the Metallica concert tickets he got you, winking when your dad asked who you were taking. Joel fucking Miller, that’s who. Your man. Yours.

   He’s wearing the new hunter green flannel you got him, the material clinging against his broad shoulders, biceps hugging the sleeves as you try not to drool in your spot because the man just looks so damn good. 

   You want to sit in his lap, rake your fingers through his greying curls, let his lips brush against yours while his large hands pull you flush to his strong chest, let his woodsy scent completely lather you as you get lost in this plush lips, fingers scraping over his soft scruff. You just want him.

   “Hey, Sarah. Wanna go over to the Silverton’s for a few minutes with Claire and I?” Your dad asks as Sarah bounces off the couch, excited to visit because they always make her favorite chocolate chip cookies. 

   “Heck yeah! Dad, wanna come, too?” she asks as her long hair swishes behind her shoulders, her sparkling eyes finding yours after she calls your name a second later.

   Joel flicks his brown eyes your way and shakes his head. “Nah, you go on, kid. Gonna stay back this time.”

   She looks between the two of you and snickers, knowing exactly why you both had said no. She knows, and she absolutely loves the idea of you and Joel together which makes this whole situation much easier to navigate.

   “Hun, you sure you don’t wanna come?” your dad asks as he pulls his bulky winter jacket on.

   You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just gonna sit around the fire and watch some football,” you reply, trying to hide your smile as Joel smirks your way.

   “Football, huh? When did you become such a football fan?” he laughs.

   You shrug your shoulders and smile. “Guess I figured it’s not too bad to watch.”

   Joel shakes his head, chuckling under his breath at the memory of a few nights ago. You were sat on the edge of his bed, his cock stretching your drenched walls wide as he thrusted his hips up and down, your back flush to his broad chest as the glow of the tv played a football game you were paying no attention to, just focusing on how fucking good he felt thrusting his cock deep inside your pussy until he made you come hard and long. 

   “Think she figured out how hard those players play ball,” Joel smirks. You giggle at the memory and throw a fuzzy pillow over at him as he catches it before your parents can see. 

   “Suit yourself. See y’all in a little bit.” He waves as he rushes your mom and Sarah through the door with a present wrapped in glittery blue paper tucked snugly under his arm.

   The second they’re gone, you throw your blanket off and make your way to Joel, collapsing onto the leather couch as he tucks you snuggly into his side. You slide the palm of your hand up the inside of his black shirt, resting your fingers on his warm stomach as you breathe in the smell of his woodsy cologne.

   “Comfy?” he asks, chuckling as he pulls you closer into his broad body.

   “Very,” you smile. He bends his head down and presses a kiss slowly to your forehead, his fingers tracing the ends of your spiral curls as you sigh at the softness that makes Joel just perfect.

   “Figured,” he chuckles.

   You watch the fire crackle with orange sparks in your vision, the Christmas lights shining brightly as the tree glitters with dark green lights twinkling in the corner. It’s quiet in here, a peaceful Christmas evening, and you have Joel all to yourself for the next few minutes. 

   Joel runs his fingers lazily over your back, pushing your hair across your left shoulder as he trails the back of his calloused index finger over your jawline. “I, ummm, got you one more gift,” he says nervously, his free hand raking down his greying scruff.

   You sit up straight and stare at him, spellbound. Another present? “Joel, what more could you possibly give me? I mean, those Metallica tickets must’ve cost you a fortune! And that fancy steak dinner you took me to? You’ve done enough,” you giggle, letting your hand fall down on his denim clad thigh.

   He chuckles and shakes his head. “I know, but jus’ trust me. I think you’re gonna like this one,” he smiles as he digs deep inside the pocket of his dark jeans, pulling a light blue velvet jewelry box out as he displays it in the palm of his hand.

   You open your mouth wide in shock, your index finger grazing the outside of the velvety case as your mind starts ticking like a timebomb. “What is it?” you whisper, not even recognizing the muttering voice that asks the question.

   “Open it and see,” he smiles, his brown doe eyes sparkling with excitement as he hands you the tiny box.

   You slowly grasp it in your palm, taking a deep breath as you carefully open the lid of the box. Your eyes grow wide when you see a silver chain necklace displayed inside, complete with a key that glints under the dim lights of the living room. You pull it out and assess it, running your fingers over the crisp edges, and then when you turn the key around you freeze.

   Right there in the middle of the silver key are the words “Miller’s Girl” carved in fancy cursive, completewith a little heart to the right of the name. You freeze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you take in the most perfect gift he’s given you by far. “Joel…” you whisper, eyes glossing over as you think you know what this is.

   He turns you toward him and leans in, a crooked smile pressed against his mouth as he looks at you with longing, syrupy eyes that make you want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. “I know you’ve been havin’ a hard time pickin’ an apartment out of all the ones we’ve looked at, but I want you to forget that. Forget every single one we’ve ever viewed, forget the paperwork, forget the costs, forget it all,” he murmurs quickly. 

   You drop the jewelry box on the floor without a thought in your mind, one hand latched onto the silver necklace, the other laced through his fingers, holding on to every single word he’s telling you.

   “You don’t belong in any of them. You jus’ belong in my bed, in my house, with me,” he states, honey-glazed eyes locking with yours as heat builds in your chest.

   “Joel…” you whisper, losing your breath as you pull yourself back together. “Are you asking me to…?”

   “Yes,” he sighs, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear tenderly. “I’m askin’ you to move in with me because I jus’ can’t stand that thought of not havin’ you in my arms every single night now, sweetheart. Wanna take this a step further, if that’s what you want, too,” he smiles as he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna see what it’s like wakin’ up to your gorgeous face in the mornings, wanna know what it’s like havin’ you in my space permanently. Move in with me.”

   Your eyes glaze over with pure admiration and love for every single word Joel just spilled from his lips. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

   You throw your arms around his neck and wrap him tight in your embrace as his arms tangle around your back. “Yes, a million times yes!” you shriek, planting your lips on his as he pulls you down against his lap. 

   When he pulls away, he spins you around, instructing you to hold your hair up as he carefully latches the necklace around your neck. When you turn back around and face him, one hand is caressing your cheek softly while the other is curving down your personalized necklace, the literal key to his heart.

   Your thumb traces over the words Miller’s Girl and end on the heart as his hand comes down to clasp around yours. “Miller’s Girl, huh?” you ask with a wide smile splayed all over your mouth.

   “That’s right, sweetheart. Thought I’d get it carved on there to remind you jus’ who you belong to so you never forget,” he smiles, his glistening eyes bright and beautiful as he presses a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles.

   You giggle and shake your head in amazement, watching the absolute love of your life express just how he feels about you. It’s all so surreal, all so perfect. And you honestly think it couldn’t get much better than this.

   “You really want me to move in?” you whisper as you look into those gentle brown eyes you can’t get enough of.

   “I really do, sweetheart,” he smiles.

   He cups your chin and brings you to his mouth slowly, and then your lips are on his. The kiss is slow, passionate as your fingers curl around his soft flannel, breathing in the woodsy cologne that makes your head dizzy. 

   “Never gonna let you go,” he whispers as his mouth crashes back down on yours while your arms lock around his neck, and he pulls you flush to his chest. 

   You get so wrapped up in the kiss that you don't hear the front door being shoved open, and then your world shifts and stops in the next second.

   “What the hell is this!” your dad shouts across the room. 

 You frantically pull away from Joel and shoot up from the couch, clutching your necklace with wide eyes as you freeze. Oh, shit. 

   Joel pushes himself off the leather couch and holds a hand out. “George, I can explain,” Joel replies softly, but you can see the panic flaring in his dark brown eyes.

   “Can you explain why you have your mouth and your hands all over my daughter?!” he yells angrily as his roar echoes around the vicinity of the house. Sarah looks between you and Joel and wishes she could help; your mom just stands there with her hand on her chest like she can’t believe this is happening. 

   Joel takes a deep breath and sighs. “Jus’ cool it, George. I can explain.”

   Your dad cuts Joel’s voice off and shoves past him, snatching your wrist as he starts to drag you toward the sliding glass door. “Excuse me, I need to talk to my daughter alone. I’ll deal with you next,” he growls as he throws you outside on the patio and slams the door shut, only having it become open again as your mom slips outside. 

   Your blood races in your body, and you can’t stop the sheer panic that’s making your heart beat straight out of your chest. “Wanna tell me why the fuck my best friend was all over you?” he asks sternly with his big hands on his hips.

   “We… we're together!” you stutter out.

   “Together? You mean to tell me you two have been dating behind my back?” His eyes glow almost red, and you fight to hide behind anything to shield yourself from how mad he looks. 

   “Yes! We’ve been dating! Not like we could’ve told you because this is how your reaction would’ve been!” 

   “That don’t give you the right to be sneaking behind my back, little girl. And Joel?! For the love of god, he’s twice your age! You know how bad that looks having my best friend go after my daughter who’s still in college?” he bites out with gnashing teeth.

   “I’m not a child, Dad! I’m twenty-six-years-old,” you pout while you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the bite of frigid wind blast through your sweater. “And I’m not in college. I’m in law school, which is super hard to even get into in the first place. And you know what? I’m making straight A’s! But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Because once again, you’re disregarding my accomplishments and making me feel awful about them.” You feel warm tears splash against your cheeks while your mom just stands there in shock. She wouldn’t dare interrupt when your dad is having a meltdown, but you see it in her glossy eyes that she doesn’t agree with him. Maybe she’s on your side after all. 

   “I’m not overlooking your accomplishments,” he scoffs as he shakes his head.

   “Yes, you are! Are you hearing yourself?”

   “Just cool it, kid. Enough. He’s forty-five, twice your age. What the fuck were you thinking? Did he manipulate you into this or did he just decide it was okay to screw around with my daughter?” he asks with an angry tick of his jaw.

   “No, it wasn’t like that at all! Joel is a nice guy, Dad. He would never hurt me. He cares about me, just like I care about him. And I really really like him, Dad.” You catch your breath and loosen the tight grip on your necklace as it falls against your chest. That was clearly a mistake because now he sees the glint of the key, and his eyes grow furious. 

   “What the fuck is this?” he asks angrily as he snatches it and yanks it off your neck. You reach for it, but he swipes it away as he inspects the silver key. “Miller’s girl. The hell does he think he’s doing? Is that a key to his place? Is that why you’ve taken so long to find an apartment because you were planning all along to move in with him?!” His voice is so splattered in anger that you barely recognize the man that stands in front of you, even your mom looks taken aback with wide eyes. 

   “No, Dad! God, just stop! If you can’t talk to me like a normal adult, then just stop. Me and Joel are together whether you like it or not. And that’s not going to stop either of our feelings.”

   “Feelings, huh? That what this is?” He scoffs, scowling down at the necklace as his thumb pierces into the metal. “You clearly don’t know anything, hun. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

   “But Dad, I love him!” you whine, biting your lip to keep fresh tears from slipping down your cheeks.

   “Love?!” he ridicules, spitting out the word like it’s poison on his tongue. “You don’t know anything about love or Joel,” he mutters. 

   “No? I think I know a hell of a lot more about Joel than you do. If you really took a good look at the picture, you’d see how clearly in love me and Joel are with each other. And this is why we decided to not tell you because you just wouldn’t understand. This is why I can’t tell you anything! Because you just throw it back in my face and never support my decisions. God, just for once don’t try to fight me on the one thing I want!” You blow out a deep breath and fist your tight knuckles at your sides.

   “He’s not a good fit for you,” he mumbles under his breath while his fingers tap mindlessly against your necklace.

   “No? Do you know who took me to Galveston when you canceled last minute? Joel did! And who took me around to look at multiple apartments, who spent hours trying to help me find exactly what I wanted? Joel! And you know who is always there for me, who helps me study for tests in my law classes, who is there for me no matter what time of day it is? Joel, Joel, Joel! That’s who! Not you, the man who’s supposed to always be there for me but can’t be. So forgive me for falling in love with someone that could give me everything I needed when I was never given those things in the first place!”

   He looks at you with his jaw ticked, his eyes red from the anger that boils inside him. And maybe you see a tad bit of sorrow and regret in his lost eyes, but he doesn’t even apologize. He just clutches the silver necklace tighter and forms his mouth in a tight line. “Hun, just let me explain,” he tries.

   “Explain?” You laugh and wipe a tear from your lash line. 

   “Yes! Look, I know I haven’t always been there for you with work and everything. But hun, Joel is not the answer to…”

   You turn sharply and cut him off, looking to your mom who just stands in the corner meekly by the sliding door with her eyes wide and mouth locked shut. “Mom, please! Back me up here?”

   “George, just listen to her. Will you? You’re not hearing her,” she tries with an even breath.

   “I’ve heard enough!” he barks as he turns back to you with a deep scowl on his face, obviously still very unhappy with you. But when was he ever happy with you in the first place? Almost never. 

   “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Because you never listen. Thanks for letting me down once again, Dad.” You brush past him without stopping for the necklace, letting the tears burn hot in your eyes as the world slowly caves in on you. You don’t even look at your mom as you rush past her, just needing to be anywhere that they’re not so you can breathe.

   Breathe. Remember how to breathe.

   You sniffle and rub at your blurry eyes, and then you find Joel standing in the middle of the living room with the saddest brown eyes he’s ever given you. This just makes you cry more.

   “Baby, you alright?” he asks with a shaky breath, reaching out an open hand for you as if he can take all the pain away.

   “No.” You push away from his advances and knock your shoulder against his, tugging away until you’re practically sprinting for the door. You don’t stop for Sarah who’s standing in the kitchen, don’t stop for Joel calling your name in that broken tone of his, all you do is rush for fresh air where you’re alone, where you can think. But you don’t really want to be alone, do you? You just want Joel. But your dad has completely ruined that. He ruined everything. 

   Joel feels the icy sting as your shoulder brushes past him; he sees the tears cloud your beautiful eyes as they cascade down your flawless face. He knows he’s fucked, knows your father will hate him now, but all he wants to do is pull you into his strong arms so he can hold you and tell you everything will be alright, that the two of you will be just fine. Because he’s not letting you go. No. He’ll never let you go. Not even if your father hates his guts now.

   Just when he starts to turn and go to you, he feels a looming presence behind him that feels a lot like a rush of cold ice freezing him out. 

   “Joel, a word.” George’s deep voice fills the room, and Joel nods and walks with his head down low like he’s a puppy being scolded for making a mess on the kitchen floor.

   The air feels frigid, and he digs his large hands nervously into the pocket of his jeans while he stands on the back porch and looks over to see George practically tearing him to shreds with just his predatory eyes across the way.

   “How long?” His voice is clipped, and Joel shivers at the sound of that icy tone.

   “George, I…”

   “How. Long.” 

   “Almost seven months…” he says quietly with his head down low.

   “Jesus Christ, Joel.”

   He holds up a palm and tries to explain, but his shaky breath doesn’t do him any favors. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

   “Didn’t what? That’s my daughter, Joel!” His eyes glow violent against the hue of the orange sunset that’s painted in the sky, murky clouds trying to fog over the brightness like the depths of his dark soul right now.

   “I know! You don’t think I didn’t think of that before I started this whole thing?” Joel’s jaw ticks, and his thick fingers form into tight fists as he tries to stay in control. 

   “I don’t know, Joel. You tell me.” George narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he waits for an explanation.

   “It’s not like I planned to fall for your daughter, it just happened.”

   “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” George slams his hand against the closed grill, and Joel sees the glimmer of your silver necklace that sits locked in his unforgiving fist. The one with the key to his heart he so casually gave you earlier. Joel’s eyes glisten with frustrated tears, but he doesn’t let a single one fall. He’s stronger than that.

   “Because this is why I didn’t, why we didn’t! Because we knew you’d be pissed.” His rugged voice comes out clipped because he’s tired, so very tired of hiding his feelings. No more, he’ll lay it out thick if he has to.

   “You’re damn right I’m pissed! You’ve been secretly dating my twenty-six-year-old daughter without me knowing and have been sneaking around this whole time. Hell, did anyone else know?”

   “Sarah knew,” Joel says quietly as he takes a step back.

   “Oh, so you tell her but not me?” George looks positively pissed, to say the least.

   “I didn’t tell her, she figured it out herself. Saw us on a date, and I couldn’t cover that up. So yes, she knows. And Tommy knows, too.”

   “Even better,” George chuckles. “And this? What do you have to say about this?” He clutches the silver key in his palm and stares angrily at Joel while his mouth ticks up in a deep scowl. 

   “That’s… I asked her to move in with me.” There’s no getting around this, so he might as well come clean. But every bone in his body tells him to grab the necklace and run out the door. He needs to make sure you’re okay. That’s the only thing that matters now.

   “Move in with you! Why would you…”

   “Because I love her…” His voice is soft, quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll disturb anyone that hears. 

   “I don’t wanna hear—”

   “George, let him talk. I want to hear this,” Claire turns and nods to him. “Go on, Joel.” Joel hesitates but gives her a tight-lipped smile and says thank you with his softening eyes.

   George pinches the bridge of his nose while he waits, and Joel takes a deep breath before he speaks, letting his nerves settle before he spills it all. “She’s been so stressed tryin’ to find the perfect apartment, and nothing right was workin’. And I jus’… I’d rather her move in with me. ‘Cause I want her there, and I’d look after her and take care of her, and…”

   George grunts and clenches the silver key harder, but Claire just gives him a stern look and tells Joel to continue. “Go on,” she encourages with a small smile. 

   Joel takes a breath and starts again. “Look, George, I never meant to fall for your daughter, but I did. And you know what? It was the best decision of my life. She’s so… she’s so kind and smart as hell. And she jus’ is the brightest ray of sunshine and lights up my entire life. And she’s so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

   Claire tears up a little in the corner, and Joel picks absentmindedly at the fringe on his flannel. He can’t help but grin as he thinks of your beautiful smile, the way you make him feel as if no one else in the world exists when you’re with him. You’re like the golden sunset that stays up just long enough to wrap him in pure warmth and sunlight, the one thing that keeps his heart pumping through his veins. You’re it for him, he thinks you always have been. He just didn’t know it till this year.

   “I never thought this would happen, but it did. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it meant ruining our friendship and you never forgiving me. I can’t give her up, George. I won’t. She makes me so fuckin’ happy, and I’d die before there was a day I ever hurt her. Losing her isn’t a choice for me because I love her, will continue to love her for as long as I live.”

   “Joel…” Claire smiles with a gleam in her clear eyes. “You really love her?”

   “Mmm. I really do. I’d do jus’ about anything for that girl. She’s so precious to me. So forgive me if I’ve spent the last almost seven months givin’ her everything I possibly could. She has my heart and always will.”

   Claire shifts and wipes a stray tear from her eyes, giving him a warm smile that says she’s so happy her daughter has him. And that takes some relief off his burdened back. Now it’s just George he has to worry about.

   George stares and stares at the silver necklace with knit eyebrows, contorting his features into something Joel can’t make out what it means. There’s a beat of hesitance before George looks up and stares directly into Joel’s eyes, like he’s hearing him clearly for the first time. “You really love my little girl, don’t you…” His eyes clear up, no more hatred or scowling or anything remotely hostile. They’re just awestruck.

   “With all my heart,” Joel mutters through the chill of the evening. 

   The cold breeze slips through Joel’s tousled curls, running straight down his spine while he waits to see what will happen next. Waiting to see if his best friend will toss him overboard for the sharks to tear him to shreds, or waiting for the acceptance that it’s okay to date his daughter.

   It’s like the world stops spinning, the only noise is the bated breath he’s holding while he watches his best friend flip the gifted necklace back and forth repeatedly in his palm. The silence is torture.

   Finally, George looks back up and sighs before licking his bottom lip and muttering. “Here, take it.” He holds the necklace by the clasp and jangles it in front of him, edging on Joel to take it.

   Joel stares at the gleaming key, reading Miller’s Girl in silver letters, the one that belongs to his girl. And when he hesitates, George shoves out his arm again, letting the necklace toss and turn in his grasp. “Take it,” he repeats, a little softer this time. 

   He walks forward, scuffing his shiny boots against the pavement and stops in front of his best friend, till the key is safely back in Joel’s grasp. He looks up slowly and sees George’s eyes almost tear up, but they still hold some faint hesitation in those uncertain irises.

   “Look, it’s gonna take me a while to be okay with this. You’re gonna have to give me a little space to process this, but I… I give you permission to date her because… because I trust you more than any of those other clowns she’s dated. And you lookout for her, especially when I’m not around, and you obviously care a lot. And sounds like you love her a lot. So… if this ever leads to more than just moving in together and dating then… just ask me next time, but I think I’ll be okay with it.”

   Joel’s eyes go wide at the words, and before he knows it he has his arms wrapped tightly around his best friend’s back in pure shock. George pounds a strong hand on Joel’s back and mumbles under his breath that that’s enough. Claire gives him a gentle smile and watches the two friends make up in peace.

   “Thank you, George. For trustin’ me with your daughter.”

   George shoos him away and grits his teeth together into a pressed smile. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ go talk to your girl, Joel. Let the old man have some space for a few minutes. I need a drink,” he sighs as he heads back inside for a cold beer in the fridge.

   Joel nods to Claire and then makes a beeline for the front door, knowing you're sitting out there in the cold with tears streaming down your beautiful face. He has to fix it.

   The sunset slowly slipping under the grey clouds doesn’t help your mood as another tear escapes down your cheek, falling to the ground with a splash as you hug your knees tighter to your chest while you lean against the front porch railing. You always knew your father wouldn’t approve, and now he’s ruined your most favorite thing in this world.

   You almost miss the large figure that stands behind you until he’s kneeling down and wrapping his arms tightly around you like a warm blanket that drapes over your skin. His usual coffee scent and strong cologne showers you in a still calmness that only he brings you, and suddenly you feel like you’re home. 

   “Joel,” you sniffle into his warm chest, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while his big hands run up and down your back in soothing motions.

   “‘S’alright, sweetheart. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.” His gentle tone surrounds you in a cloud of comfort, and you suddenly feel warm and light for the first time since your parents saw the two of you kiss.

   “But they… my dad…” You can’t even speak clearly. Your words are all warped and clipped each time you think of how angry your dad was, how violently he ripped into your heart when all you were trying to do was tell him how much Joel meant to you. It was a disaster that was waiting to happen, and you let it.

   “Hey, look at me.” He tips your chin up and brushes the next tear away that clashes against your eyelashes. “Everything’s okay now. We’re okay.”

   You look at him with confusion swirling in your irises as your fingers clasps around his fuzzy flannel you love to wear so much. “We’re okay?” you whisper out in a daze.

   “Mhm,” he nods as a warm smile slips over his plush mouth. He digs into the pocket of his jeans and grasps the silver chain in his palm. Your necklace. 

   “Think this belongs to you.” Joel opens his palm and reveals the silver key that has your name written all over it. The key that promises for a future together, your future. A life with him in it, a step before a lifetime together.

   “Joel… he gave it back?” You gawk as your finger brushes against the metal, clasping your hand over his so you can feel the promise of forever in the warmth of his calloused palm.

   “Mhm. It belongs to you.” He pushes it into your open palm and closes your fingers over the cold silver, letting his hand linger over yours as his warm breath invades your space.

   You take a moment to register what this means, what this might promise. Did this mean your dad… Your eyes flick to his with agility, and your lips part as you exhale a long breath. “Does this mean... Did my dad…”

   A smile curls against his mouth and he nods. “‘S’alright now. After I talked to him, after I explained myself, he listened. He’s okay with us, darlin’. Well, as good as he’ll be right now. Might take some time to mend our friendship back to how it was, but s’okay. We’re gonna be jus’ fine. And you and me? We’re gonna be more than fine.”

   You throw your arms around Joel’s neck and sink your lips against his, letting his cinnamon taste melt into your mouth until you can taste nothing but him. He pulls you against his broad chest and strokes his calloused fingers against the back of your neck, tugging until you’re flush to him so he can ravish and serenade your mouth with the taste and feel of his warm, lush tongue. 

   It only takes minutes of heated passion until he pulls his lips from yours and rests his forehead against yours. You’re both out of breath, but you guess that’s how the two of you always are. Always giving your entire being to each other until the other is completely satisfied. But it’s not about that this time, it’s about finally being able to express your love for each other out in public. No more hiding from your parents, your friends, no one. It’s you and Joel against the world now, and there’s not anything you can’t conquer now.

   He moves your hair across one shoulder and clasps the necklace around your neck, leaving it right where it belongs now. Yours. 

   “There,” he smiles as he glides his fingers over the silver key. “Right back where it belongs. Right over your heart.”

   You take a moment to admire the syrupy eyes that flick to yours as you rake your fingers through his silvery scruff, dragging your nails slowly as he groans at the feel of you. “I love when you do that,” he murmurs as his thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately.

   “Well, get used to it because I’m about to be living with you,” you smile.

   “Mmm. I like the sound of that. You in my arms every single night? Wakin’ up to the glow of your stunning smile? Bein’ able to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want? Yeah, I could get used to this.” His lips drag down your cheek and end on your lips softly, but then they’re gone in a flash as he traces his fingertips over the back of your hand.

   “Slow mornings with freshly brewed coffee, your lips, and me curled up in your lap? Yeah, I could get used to this, too.” Your lips find his once more, and then you’re floating off in a little bubble, to a place only you and Joel know how to get to.

   When his lips untangle from yours, he smiles and gives you those loving sweet eyes you never can seem to get enough of. “I love you, darlin’.”

   “I love you too, Joel.”

   The evening slips by in a rush. Your parents are weirdly mellow about the whole thing, but your dad still sends a couple snarls your way when he sees you and Joel holding hands. But he surprises you when he sends you off with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you go back to Joel’s house. 

   It doesn’t take him long till Joel and him are doing fishing trips, watching football games together, and going out for beers again. And you kind of love that Joel didn’t have to lose his best friend over you. No. Joel got to keep both of you, and you couldn’t help but tear up when you saw how close they were again just a month after the whole Christmas disaster. You guess some things just fall into place like you and Joel did.

   You never expected to fall in love with your dad’s best friend, but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. And now? You’re finally free to live your life with your favorite person by your side.

   You don’t know what the next year will bring or the year after, but you know Joel will be there no matter what. 

[toxicanonymity]

Collect calls. jailbird pt. 2 of 3

3600, cellmate's nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

brilliant edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog. custom tats!

SUMMARY: You kinda try to be careful over the phone, but you want each other too bad. So it's hard. Rock hard. Joel sends you a short letter and comes to visit again. Follows Jailbird, but this is 69% dirty talk (I did the math). You can prob read alone. PT 3 of 3 is Parole. WARNINGS: I8+ SO HORNY, hella dirty talk from both, phone sex, mild degradation/teasing, tension, masturbation, Joel is a slut and mentions getting blown, creative mail. Barely edited horny chaos but I wanna feed ya and this ain't fine dining. A/N: Part 2 of 3. Thank you for the love on Jailbird! And THANK YOU @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the amazing edit omg. Make sure you see the Jojo gif 🥵 His specific tattoos and all 😍 joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs. PART 3 HERE.

When you got back from visitation, your cellmate Mabel's face lit up.  She was excited to hear about it, but when she looked you over, she said, “Oh boy, it’s worse than I thought. . . I’m gonna go play spades, honey. You do what ya need to do.” 

You shook your head, “Mabel. . .”

“Take your time,” she said with a wink. "Not that you'll need it." Then she stood up and stretched before leaving the cell.  

You got in your bed, on your side, under the blanket. You clenched your thighs together looking at the picture of a slightly younger him with not nearly as much silver in his beard. You put your pillow between your legs, rolled over so you were mostly stomach-down, and your hips moved as you put your head in the crook of your arm and recalled the way he looked at you, his strong hands, his tattoos. His voice. You wondered what it sounded like when it wasn’t through a telephone, but god damn, it did something to you. “ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” Fuck. 

You were already getting close, wouldn’t even need to use your hand at this rate. You thought about the way his arm flexed as his hand moved in his lap. Oh God, the bulge and outline in his jeans when he stood up. The way he adjusted himself.  He might be too big for you to take all of him, but god damn, you'd give it your best shot. You rubbed yourself against your pillow to the rhythm of his hand rubbing his lap in your mind, clenched your thighs again and you came, whining "Jojo" into your elbow. You heard it too many times a day to get it out of your head – He told you to call him Joel, but Mabel made it somewhat difficult. 

---

He was hot as fuck, but it was also cute how close he and Mabel were. It made him seem like a good guy, even though neither of them were particularly upstanding members of society.  You supposed neither were you by most standards, but it’s not like any of you had ever intentionally hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That you knew of.  The fact that Jojo served time was hot and also put you at ease. It had to have been a while based on the spiderweb, unless he was just trying to look hard, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit anything. How did you even know what type he was though? You hardly knew  him? You dreaded Mabel’s teasing but you could withstand it in order to find out more.

You got off once more while you were at it, taking advantage of the privacy.  Then you sat up, rested against the wall, and just looked at the picture. Unfolded, you looked at both of them. It was so sweet. He looked happy. His hand on her shoulder had the spade tattoo.  Your eyes fell on your own poke-and-stick clover from Mabel and your stomach fluttered when you saw the flared stem and circular leaves. It might as well have been a Club.  “Mabel,” you muttered and shook your head.  

While she was still playing Spades, you went over to her bed to look at the other photos up close. In another picture, they were at a barbecue in a parking lot. Joel was on the left and Mabel was on the right. Joel was wearing a wifebeater and Mabel was wearing a black t-shirt with a carousel pony on the right pocket.  

You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a few women in swimsuits and aprons in the background. One of them was looking at Jojo. Who wouldn’t? Mabel’s words echoed in your mind — of course he’d like you. You’ve got a cunt and  you’re not bad lookin'. you rolled your eyes. Shit. You resolved to put yourself in pro mode and try to detach. 

—--

Over the next week, you spoke with him several times on the phone. You tried to be careful. You wren’t sure if all calls were reviewed or it was just by sample. You figured it would be suspicious to ask. You hoped whoever listened didn’t mind some harmless horny talk.  The only stuff they should really care about should be scheming. Like making moves and putting out hits from the inside. Or smuggling from the outside. 

—---

He answered the phone, “There she is.”  A vaguely endearing greeting since you and Mabel called from the same collect number. 

“Hey handsome,” you responded. 

“I was just thinkin’ about ya, jailbird.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said deeply then sighed. “Ya just missed it.” Good God, his voice.

“Missed–”

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty head. How bout I’ll wait for ya tomorrow?” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah.”

“Just call at the same time.” 

“Okay,” you agreed with a smile in your voice. “It was nice to see you the other day. . .” 

“Oh, baby you got no idea,” he groaned. “I’m comin’ back next week.” 

“Are they gonna let you back?” you giggled.

“They’ve gotta! I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You didn’t. . .you’re right. . .” 

“Hey don’t give’em any ideas.”

"Right," you laughed. 

"What are ya gonna do when ya get out?"

“In general? Try to find honest work, I guess.” 

“Nothin’ dishonest ‘bout what you were doin’. But I hear ya, parole’s a bitch.” 

“You on parole?”

“Nah, long time ago though.” 

‘Yeah?”

“Kept my nose clean the whole damn time.  Ended up back in the can anyway.” 

"For what"

"Framed for fuckin' murder."

"What??"

"Relax, I was exonerated." 

"No shit."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You ever danced?"

"Course I fuckin' danced"

"Where at?"

"In memphis."

"Oh, I dunno jack shit about that scene."

"Wasn't great."

"Guess that's where you uh, got your start though."

"Yeah."

"Well do what ya want but lemme know if ya need a gig."

'Thanks." 

He sighed. "I know it sucks not gettin' any in there. "

"Yeah."

"Are ya? Gettin' any? Girls, guards?"

"No," you answered, looking over your shoulder. "Think I could tell ya if I was, though?"

"Shit, sorry." 

"You gettin' any?" 

"Oh I'm a straight up ho." 

"Yeah?" You asked, intrigued.  "Surprised I hadn't seen ya at the clinic," you teased. 

"Cause I'm way the fuck 'cross town. Got our own clinic." 

"Good for you." A pleasant surprise that he stayed clean. 

"Yeah, on a first name basis. Make my girls go, too. Still wrap it most the time though." 

"Your girls."

"Dancers."

"Right." Mabel had mentioned he worked at a club. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

"Shit, I was gettin' some sugar the other night," he said. "Pretty little head between my legs 'n I was lookin' at your picture."

Your heart fluttered. "No shit," you laughed. "My picture, huh?"

"Ohh, you don't even know. I want it bad, sugar, and I ain’t even tasted it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shit I prolly think about it as much as you do . . .and I've got a life." 

"Who says I think about it?" You asked flirtatiously.

"I got ESP. Makes me tingle when ya do."

"Oh does it?"

"Ya think about me in the shower, in bed. . ." 

You laughed. "And where do you think about me?"

"Fuckin' everywhere. I've gotta have ya, baby. So bad it hurts." 

—----------

Whenever you came back to your cell after talking to Jojo, Mabel would leave to make a phone call or go to the common area to watch whatever outdated movie was playing in the common area. Often with a wink. She knew he got you all wound up. 

—----------

You called him at the same time the next day. 

"How's your week been," you asked. 

"Hard," he said, then his voice became hornier.  "So fuckin' hard. . . n' that's all you." You could hear his belt and zipper. 

"Wish I could help."

“i'm sure ya can once you're out. If you wanna hang out sometime.” You heard a bottle click open then squirt. 

You teasingly hummed as though thinking it over. "Mmmm. . . .I dunno, what would you wanna do?”

“I can pick ya up right from the slammer, ‘less ya got someone else.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, then we can just. . . i dunno, get to know each other,” he mused, then added at a lower pitch, “In the back seat of my whip. Stop off somewhere close.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “You don’t understand, baby. I’ve gotta see what’s under that garb.” His hand was sliding up and down his lubed up cock. “I’ve gotta feel it.” 

Butterflies swarmed in your chest and you sighed.

“What were ya wearin’ when ya got picked up?”

“Well. . . you already know what I’m in for. . .”

"Damn right I do, and you're gonna find out."

You laughed – at visitation, he said you were in for it. . 

"C’mon, jailbird. What were ya wearin.”

“A black microskirt"

"Mmm."

"Black mesh crop top"

"Yeahhh"

"Over a pink bra.”

“Ohhh, fuck,” he sighed. “Shoes?”

“Shit, I’m not–hmm." You tried not to overthink it. "Definitely platforms. Silver and clear, I think."

He gave a low whistle. "Sounds hot as shit." 

“And fishnets. Shit, that's all I had,” you laughed. "Maybe you can bring me something else." 

“God damn, that’s what I get to pick ya up in?”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on the fishnets.”

“Commando in that skirt? Shit, that’s even better.” His breath grew heavier. "Fuck it, just sit on me while I drive," he murmured. "Yeah, fuckin' sit on *this* the whole drive–ugghh." As if avoiding the word cock would make this conversation passable.

You sighed and tried to hide your arousal from the Corrections Officer (CO) standing 8 ft away. 

"Can't get it in ya soon enough, baby." 

"Mmm," you said quietly. "Can't wait."

"Jailbird, you're fuckin killin' me." He moaned. "Hot as hell. . . fuck."

"You sure I can take it?"

"Fuck, I dunno, baby," he panted. "It's a lot."

"I could tell"

"Uugggghhh," He groaned and you heard his hand sliding faster on his dick. "And what'd ya think about that ?"

"Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” you cooed saucily. "Just get me nice 'n ready."

"You ready right now?"

"The second I heard your voice."

"Fuck, I gotta know what ya taste like"

"Mmm."

"Yeah," he panted.,"And when you're nice and ready, then what?"

You lowered your voice to a near whisper. "Oh, just fuckin' wreck me. Split me open, baby." All you could do was clench your thighs together.

"Ohhh god"

"Don't hold back"

"Ohh fuck–couldnt if I tried." He sighed.

You had lost all restraint and just prayed whoever reviewed this call would be cool.  

"Just stuff me full of it," you whispered. 

"Fuck, yeah."

"Stretch me out." 

"Ohh yeah." 

"Pound me so hard i can’t see straight."

"Shit." He moaned and his hand moved faster. 

"And then? Fill me the fuck up. I wanna feel it." 

"Fuck yeah," he panted "i'll be seepin' outta ya for days."

"Then you better fill me up again." 

"Jesus, fuck–ohhh." 

"Don't tell me you'd spill it this fast."

"Oh fuck you," he laughed in good humor. "I'm not spillin' shit." You could still hear his hand. 

"Not even if I'm sittin' on ya while ya drive?"

"Not even." 

"Not with one hand on the wheel and one on my tit?"

"Ohh fuck," he breathes.  "No, no. . ."

"And I'm moanin' your name with every bump in the road?"

"Mmmm, fuck, baby."

"Oh ya like that?" 

"Fuckin'--fuck–fuckin' love it."

"Wouldya mind slidin' that hand down between my legs?" 

"Wherever ya want it, baby."

"Ugh, those big hands," you whispered. "I just know you can use'em."

"Fuckin' right I can," he panted.  

"Hope ya don't finish while you're drivin' with me in your lap."

"All ya gotta do is sit still."

"Imagine the mess if you came." 

"Fuck, baby," he sighed.

"Every time we hit a bump, more would spill out in  your lap.”

“Ohh, fuck."  Then a long, drawn out moan like he was coming. You were throbbing wildly. 

"Knew ya were close," you laughed. Then you heard a heavy smack on his end of the line. Then there was nothing but breathing for a minute, then it sounded like he was writing. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Addressing an envelope."

"You're not mailing me your–"

"No I'm not mailin' you my" he laughed,  "Load."

"Just a letter?

"Yeah. . . Just a letter." 

"Mmkay. . . How 'bout a picture?"

His tone was warm and flattered. "Oh I can throw in a pic. But it's not gonna be the kind ya *really* want."

"Booo," you pouted.

'Think you'll like it anyway."

"Yeah, I can fill in the rest." 

Your time was up. 

—-------

You went back to your cell and sighed as you sat down on your bed. Mabel started to leave but you said, "no, you're good." You'd rub one out later. You wanted to ask Mabel if he really liked you, but you wouldn't let yourself be vulnerable like that. You were still trying to detach.  

"You're right, he's cool," you said. 

 "You like him, don't ya? He likes you, too.”  

She reached under her mattress into the fitted sheet and got out her poke and stick supplies. “C’mere, let's just get it over with,” she said. 

“What, uh, what do you wanna give me?”

"J. . . O. . ." 

Your whole upper body heated up and you laughed under your breath, "Mabel." She was mostly kidding. 

—-----------

Visitation day came and you weren't nervous, just excited. He was wearing a too-small, black softwash t-shirt, black jeans, and a chain.

“Be good,” the guard warned Joel as you picked up the phone on your side. 

"Yes, officer,” Joel replied with a respectful nod, then sat down. You noticed his rings as he picked up his phone. “We gotta be good,” he said with a wink.  

“So be good,” you told him vacantly as your eyes roamed his tattoos. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, hungrily taking in the mundane sight of you in your garb. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. 

“How’d ya get hotter? Chicks don’t get hotter in lock-up, much less in a week.” 

“What, and men do? It’s in your head.”

“Well yeah, we work out like mad.” 

“Guess you’ve got me there.” 

“Not talkin’ 'bout your body. It’s bangin’, but, I mean–no makeup and you’re pretty as hell.” 

You smiled and shrugged, "thanks," then whispered, "but I think you're just horny," with a wink.  He returned the shrug. 

A few seconds of silence passed as he checked you out. You salivated over his arms stretching his shirt. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Whatcha thinkin about?”

“I’m thinkin’ ya look like a slutty bouncer. . .You get this shit at Spirit Halloween?”

Joel chuckled. “Well . . . you know what *I’m* thinkin’ about.” His eyes glued to your chest. 

Yeah, yeah, he’s gotta see what’s under that garb. “Yeah, you’ll see it, honey," you said. 

It was a struggle knowing what to say–you wanted to “be good” and not get cut short, but you also wanted to indulge in your fantasies. 

Joel asked, “Where ya wanna go when ya get out?”

“Anywhere. Got some place in mind?”

“Could take ya to my place. Mabel taught me a mean pot roast recipe.” 

You smiled. “You’re makin' me hungry.”

“Oh I’m starvin’, baby.”

"Long drive?"

He exhaled with a puff of his cheeks. "It’ll feel long that day."

“I’m sure it will,” you purred, looking down as if you could see through the booth right to his cock. You wet your lips. “So what’s between here and home?”

He took a deep breath, thought for a second, and told you what highway it was. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “There’s a seven eleven right outside the gate here. 

“There sure is," Joel nodded. "Clean bathrooms too. I checked on my way.”

“You did not.” 

“I’m tellin’ ya," he nodded. "Stopped for gas. First thing I thought about. Swear I think about it as much as you do.” 

“So what’s in the bathroom?”

“Steel handicap railing about hip height”

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued.

“Pretty sturdy to hold onto, or even sit on.” He looked over his shoulder “Like if someone needed a rest or whatever.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right," you said softly as you nodded. 

"Diaper changin' thingy, too."

You scrunched your face up. 

"Like if ya needed to bend over it and stretch your back.” 

"Ah," you nodded. "Nah."

“Parking lot?”

“That close to here, it’s gotta be crawling with pigs.” 

“Right,” he said in a trance, looking at your mouth. 

“Alright, where else is there," you asked. 

"Rest stop. They got picnic tables near the woods if ya need to, uh," he looked down, "Sit down," he said quieter, "n' take a rest." 

"Oh, I won't want a rest." You slowly shook your head and your eyes lingered on his chain. 

He groaned softly and rested his chin in his hand. He whispered, "You're killin' me here." He scratched his beard and you tingled at the sight of the silver patches, his pinky ring, his hand tattoos–the faded barbed wire.  You sighed. 

"You bein' good?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You resigned yourself to harmless small talk for a few minutes, but it was obvious what you both were thinking about.  There were long silences where you just stared at each other.  

“Just a few more weeks and I’m yours,” you teased. 

His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

Oh, shit - you didn’t wanna scare him off.  Really didn’t even mean it like that, but, you also didn’t mind the thought of him as a boyfriend. 

You nodded and teased, “yours to do what you please.”

He blew out a puff of air. "God damn, baby. I don't think you know what’s comin’ your way.”

“Can’t wait to find out, though.”

“Oh, you’re gonna find out.”  He dug his hand into his lap but didn’t move it. “Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“Never be sorry.”

The guard barked,”Hands where I can see’em,” and Joel obediently raised his hand and put both elbows on the table again. 

"You ain't gonna want no one else again." 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness which actually turned you on. 

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he cautioned. 

"Okay," you shrugged with a contemplative frown. 

"Shit, I might be in the same boat." He swallowed and looked like he meant it. Like maybe you were doing something to him that hadn't been done.

"Get my letter yet?" Joel asked. 

"No." 

He smirked, then it faded as he checked you out for the hundredth time. He shook his head, sat back, and took a deep breath.  "This is fuckin' torture." 

"Then it's a good thing I waited til now to ask about ya." 

"the best torture," he clarified, his forehead beginning to glisten. "I'm gonna fuckin explode when I'm back in my ride."  He looked at the unopened box of tissues on his side of the booth, intended for crying visitors. "Thank God I didn't ride the hog." Fuck, he had a motorcycle, too? He held the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he opened the plastic on the box and tried to get the tissues started. Then he took three tissues out.  Your breath hitched at the thought of his cum. Was it silky? Stringy? Watery? Sticky? What'd it taste like? Ugh. 

"HANDS," the guard said when he saw Joel finish pocketing the tissues. The guard stepped forward. "Say goodbye, let's go."

"Fuck." Joel sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry, jailbird." 

When he stood up, you could see the outline of his hard dick on his thigh. You took a deep breath and pried your eyes off his crotch to briefly meet his eyes. He winked and you managed a small smile before eyes fell right back to his jeans as he adjusted himself. Fuck. 

—---------------

Joel’s letter came a couple days later. A photo fell out of it. Black and white. He was sitting in a chair and smoking with one hand holding the cigarette up and his other hand resting between his legs.  Arms blazing in a white t-shirt. Squinting at the camera. He looked hot as hell despite having all his clothes on. He looked like a model. 

The letter was on plain white printer paper, and the letter was short: 

Be good, jailbird. I'll take ya anywhere. 

Sweet, and also sexy. God, you wanted him to take you. 

You flattened out the letter and admired his poor but legible handwriting. Not as bad as some you'd seen. His handwriting was hot.  It was cute that he didn't use any special stationary.  He was a simple man. And God, what a man. You ran your fingers over the words,  and they caught on a different texture.  Something on the paper.  You smelled it and it wasn't cum. It was, like, lotion or Vaseline. 

Wait. You held it up, and your breath hitched. 

You looked behind you to make sure no one was watching, then you stood up, got closer to the light, and held it at an angle. Holy shit. It was his dick print, diagonal across the paper.  A bolt of desire shot through your body.  It was transparent but the different texture was visible. You could see the head, then most of the shaft. It was detailed, there was texture. Even a couple of veins. 

You sat on your bed, leaning against the wall with your knees up.  You rested the paper against your knees at an angle with the tip pointed between your legs.  You just wanted to get a sense of the size–and boy did you–but the sight of it, God. Just the silhouette of it lined up right there made you feral. You needed it so bad.  Needed him.  Who the hell mails a dick print? Fuckin’ Jojo, he was gonna be the death of you.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your engagement really keeps me going, I love y'all.

This AU is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes. But I played myself because he's actually hot and I want him?

Notes

The slapping sound after he came was him letting his cock slap onto the paper.

There are a lot of correctional facilities where they wouldn't get away with all this so you gotta suspend disbelief.

The strip club will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past.

-----

I hear tags aren't working for some people. Please consider following @toxicfics and subscribing to notifications. Must have tumblr push notifications enabled on your phone.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[milla-frenchy]

Wolf like me - part 2

3k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: trying to understand your relationship with Joel, you awkwardly stir up his possessiveness Warnings: 18+ mdni. Darkish. Mentions of somnophilia and anal, manhandling, oral (f/m), cum eating, slapping, spitting, biting, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, piv, ass play, a little blood. Self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either, angst. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for the beautiful edit of Joel with the wolf 😍🔥and for beta-ing me, as usual. ILY 💕🫶

ao3 | masterlist

part 1

His feet were firmly planted on the ground, as his cock was sinking between your folds. His eyes locked with yours, he was pounding you against the front door. 

You heard his heavy footsteps when you knocked, and he grabbed your arm as soon as he opened the door, then closed it back with the palm of his hand. Without waiting for you to put your things down, he pushed you against the door. He groaned, his forehead against yours.

He knelt down and pulled down your pants and panties, growling into your crotch as he took in your scent. His tongue slipped between your folds, eager to collect your wetness, which had begun to soak into the fabric of your underwear as soon as you walked up the stairs.

“Already soaked for me”, he murmured between two breaths. And you dug your fingers into his brown curls, as if you wanted him to devour you even more. Even if he couldn't be any closer. He grabbed one of your calves to lift your leg, placed your thigh  on his shoulder and his tongue impatiently lapped at your pussy. He ran it flat, over and between your folds, then fucked you with it. You were already moaning, quickly becoming sensitive to his way of eating you. It was wild, feral. As if you were there to fill one of his needs. He pushed three fingers into your pussy, and his tongue swirled against your clit.

“Fuck, Joel”, you whimpered, feeling your orgasm building deep inside you. He growled again, as if your words bothered him. But you knew now that they only turned him on more.

As soon as you came, your pussy clenching on his fingers, he replaced them abruptly with his tongue, diving it deep between your folds. He wanted to feel you cum on his tongue. The pleasure had seized you so quickly that you were dizzy. When your spasms stopped, you were so shaky that you could barely stand on your feet. After getting up he didn’t bother to wipe his mouth and his chin, both dripping, and already, his tongue was searching for yours. Mixing your wetness with your saliva and his. His beard rubbed against your skin, and you loved feeling the raw contact. He was wearing only jeans that he quickly pulled down under his cock and his balls, and his thick fingers gripped his shaft, guiding it into your depths.

And now he was pounding you, quickly, his hands tight on your thighs wrapped around his waist. You gripped his shoulders with your hands to hold him against you and feel his warmth, but he grunted, “Wanna look at you while you’re taking my cock.” His piercing gaze was plunged into yours, as if he was probing your soul. His intensity made it barely impossible to hold his glance. His cock pierced you with every thrust of his hips, so violently that you no longer knew whether you felt pleasure or pain. But you didn't care. You just wanted to feel something, and that was what he was giving you. He lowered his pace and tilted his pelvis, now thrusting against your G spot, at a slower but deeper rhythm. You bit your lip and he smirked.

“Can feel your cunt squeezing me.”

You closed your eyes as you felt the wave grow, ready to break through your entire body, while he kept thrusting. You opened your eyes, and his gaze was still on you. “Look at that little cunt, ready to cum on my fat cock…yeah, give it to me.”

You moaned louder, and bit your lip to the point that the taste of iron had now invaded your mouth.

“I know, it’s too much for that tight cunt, right? Fuck…”

Your pussy clenched and you whimpered, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Emotions and sensations, so strong that you lost yourself in them and in the feelings you had for him now. When he saw them in your eyes, he shook his head and buried his face in your neck, breathing in deeply as his nose rubbed against your delicate skin, before biting it. When you cried out as his teeth dug into your flesh, you felt him freeze. He was close.

He pulled out, grunting “kneel” and you presented your open mouth to him, just in time for the hot spurts of cum to warm it. His fist clenched your hair as he dragged the tip of his twitching cock over your soiled tongue.

You fell asleep in his bed, just feeling him cover you with a blanket. Many times, you had fallen asleep in his apartment, woken up in the middle of the night by the feeling of his thick cock roughly sliding in your pussy and spreading your folds, using you like a rag doll, whose limbs and body were controlled by his movements. And you clung to him fearing that he would let you go, while he couldn't do without your pussy tighting on his shaft, barely managing to hold back from cumming inside you, and shooting his cum onto your stomach or anywhere else at the last moment.

But that morning you woke up not having been fucked during the night, and his side of the bed was cold. You felt empty. You pushed back the blanket to inspect your arms and legs, looking for the slightest trace of bruising. Then your hips, where faint marks remained, from the last time he had held on to them as he thrusted his cock into you. You couldn’t remember if it was in your pussy or your ass. The erased traces of his fingers buried in your flesh only made the void inside you grow.

You saw each other several times after the day he had held you in his arms the last time. But he hadn’t shown you any other signs of affection since.

When you left his apartment, the raindrops on your cheeks were mixing with your tears.

Later that day, you met Robert at the usual meeting point, and you saw Marlene leaving discreetly. He gave you some supplies and asked you to bring them to one of his guys near the guardhouse. 

Once there, you felt a gaze on you and you turned around. Joel’s dark stare was fixed on you, and he didn’t flinch when yours landed on him. Why would he? He had been a hunter, a wild beast, since the beginning. And all you wanted was to be his prey. Even more than usual, as the days and months passed. So you brushed against the arm of the man you were talking to, whose first name you didn’t care about, while in your head you could only hear your mind repeating “Joel.” You smiled a little more than you usually would have when that guy said something kind to you. And when he leaned over to whisper something in your ear, you let him, hoping that Joel was still watching.

You left, heading towards your apartment. You had only taken a few steps when he grabbed you. You knew it was him, the moment he clasped your wrist. He pinned you against the alley wall, your cheek against the brick, and his cock against your ass. Already hard. The sleeves of his blue denim shirt were rolled up and your eyes were fixed on his forearm veins, when he held your wrist firmly against the wall.

“Fuckin’ slut. My cock’s not enough?”

He chuckled when you stuck your ass out towards him.

“Ain’t gonna fuck you here. You’re really ready to take it anywhere.”

He grabbed your arm, leading you with a firm hand to his apartment. You tried to keep up with him, but he walked fast and you were forced to trot alongside him.

“Hurry the fuck up”, he barked at you, when you were going up the stairs. You felt his impatience, and you were almost afraid for the first time of what was going to happen. Maybe you had gone too far, testing him like that. The post-apocalyptic world brought out basic needs. Eating, sleeping, fucking, owning. And Joel seemed to be the embodiment of that.

When he opened the door and pushed you inside, you stumbled, and almost fell. He closed the door behind you and once he turned back to you he put his hands on his hips. You could see he was trying to calm down, his nostrils flaring from his short, angry breathing.

“Joel, I-”

The look he gave you cut short what you wanted to tell him.

“The fuck was that, outside?”

His eyes were darker than ever and when he took a step forward to approach you, you took a step back.

“Joel…you’re scaring me.”

“You're goddamn right to be scared. ‘Cause I wanna tear you into pieces right now. Wanna fuck you until you pass out, and then, maybe you’ll stop thinking with your cunt.”

“I need you”, you murmured on the verge of tears. “I need you, and you’re not here for me. Not as much as I need. I thought you’d be, after…” Your voice broke.

“After what? After I hugged you? You're a fool, if you think I'll love you. I don’t love, I own. I possess.”

He was already close to you when you realized he had moved, his body against yours and his face lowered towards you. His hand was on your throat.

“I already told you that you belong to me. No one else can have you. So, I’m gonna ask you one last time: what was that, outside?”

His hand tightened on your throat when he asked you that question, and you brought your hands to his, to make him release you, but of course, his grip was too strong. When he withdrew his hand, he didn’t even hide the satisfaction he felt, seeing his mental and physical hold on you.

“I wanted to make you jealous”, you whined. “I wanted you to notice me, to feel something for me.” But he didn't even respond to that, to your desperation. You were emotionally bare in front of him, and he was giving you nothing.

“I’m gonna fuck that cute little face of yours. And when your mouth is full of my cock, at least you’ll stop whining”, he said, undoing his belt before letting it fall to the floor, and then unzipping his jeans. When he took out his cock, you were no longer crying. The idea that he was going to fill you made you forget all your doubts, all your insecurities. You knew, the moment his cock was buried in you, no matter which hole he would use, he would only be yours.

When he began fucking your mouth to the point of making you choke on his cock, you didn't back down. You let him dispose of it as he wished. He hit the back of your throat every time he thrusted in, one hand around your neck to feel his shaft sliding in. Feeling how far he was going. When he released you and let you catch your breath, you begged him “I want you to fill my mouth.”

“I bet you do,” he answered, holding the back of your head with one hand, and fucking his wrist with the other. He thrusted one last time, his balls clenched in his hand as if he wanted to shove them into your mouth too. When he came, his neck swollen and his veins bulging, he managed to say “don’t wanna see a single drop flow." You did as he wanted, swallowing the spurts as he offered them to you, keeping his cock between your lips.

He didn’t make you cum, and you didn’t ask. You didn't try to relieve the pressure between your thighs, either. He showered you, like he did sometimes. Like someone would wash an abandoned dog brought to a shelter. His calloused hands running the soap over every inch of your skin, between every fold, every curve, and rubbing every bone.

He knelt down, reaching your lower stomach, and was turning your body the way he wanted. Facing him, back to him, sideways. He cleaned your feet, bringing them up one after the other as you turned your back to him. He ran his hands over your pussy and leaned you forward. Sometimes he fucked your ass in the shower, helped by the soap. Your desire for him was so strong that you didn't need any more time for him to dive his cock into your tight hole. Your mind was so eager, so dependent on him, on his body, on his cock, that you could take him almost immediately.

He never let you wash him. It had disappointed you at first, as you were eager to touch his body, but now you were used to just looking at him, standing in the shower next to him. Hypnotized by his hands, his body and his skin marked with several scars. You watched him clean his cock. Once you tried to touch it, but he slapped your hand and grunted “no.”

Once clean, you got out of the shower and he always dried you off first. If he was cold, he didn't show it and never complained. Every time you felt your pussy drool, but he never fucked you at that moment. Sometimes though, he ran his hand between your folds and licked his fingers. At most he passed his tongue quickly. But rarely.

Then he fed you. He probably knew that your fridge was often empty. “That fuckin’ Robert doesn’t give you enough food cards or what?” he asked one day. You shrugged your shoulders.

And you were still perplexed by all this, the showering, the feeding. That felt mechanical, as if he had a job to do.

You were in line to send messages when you saw him walk past everyone. He came out a few minutes later, his jaw clenched. When he saw you, he told you to meet him at his apartment after you were done. 

He fucked your mouth, as usual. He ate your cunt, too, but didn’t make you cum. He told you to lie down on his bed. You wondered if he was going to jerk off and cum on your body without fucking you. You couldn't discern his thoughts, even less than usual.

He was standing, facing the bed and looked even more magnificent, more magnetic than usual. Even darker, perhaps, if it was even possible. 

He took his cock in his hand, running his thumb over the precum to spread it over his tip. He was so beautiful, his sexual energy was overwhelming you, so  you slipped your hand down to your pussy and started rubbing your clit while looking at him. He rushed to the bed and swatted your hand away, growling “don’t fucking touch what’s mine.”

His excessive possessiveness continued to fill the void in you and you didn't rebel any more than the other times, waiting to see how he was going to dispose of your body. Wanting to let him use it as he wished to.

When he laid down between your legs, he rubbed his cock between your folds, covering it with your wetness. His fist was clenched in your hair as you sought to catch his gaze with yours. When he pushed his cock half way into your pussy, before pulling back and plunging all the way in, you screamed. “Shut up and let me use you”, he grunted. You spread your thighs for him to go deeper, and he added “yeah, you know what you’re good for.”

Your fingers tight on his biceps, you followed his movements by rolling your hips towards him.

“Deeper, Joel,” you begged. 

"Yeah? You wanna scream, baby doll? Want my cock to help you forget everything else?”

You nodded, biting your lip, as he already picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your skin. Your moans turned into cries when his thrusts went harder. “Every time you cry, you’re even more mine than before,” he said, nestling his nose in the warmth of your neck, his hands gripping your hips. He licked your earlobe, then bit it gently.

"This pussy’s mine. Fuck…You're mine. Say it”, he panted, his lips against your ear.

“I am yours. All yours.” He stopped, balls deep in your pussy, to look at you. You didn't see the slap coming. It wasn't a strong one, but sharp enough to understand that he was pissed.

“I said: this pussy’s mine. You’re mine. Repeat it”, he said again, holding your chin and pouding you again against the mattress.

“My pussy’s yours. I’m yours”, you whimpered.

“I’ll tear apart anyone who touches you. You understand that?”

Tears ran down your cheeks, as in that moment he gave you more than you had ever had or felt.

“Yes. And I want that. I want to be marked by you, however you wanna do it, and I want everyone to know it.”

He grabbed your hair and held your head back against the bed. Neck and throat offered to him, he licked and sucked your skin. You knew you would have several visible hickeys the next day.

“Bite me, Joel.”

“Fuck…” he buried himself completely, holding his cock deep in you. Your head was still held back by his massive hand. He sank his teeth into your neck and bit into the tender flesh. You heard him growl against your neck, and soon you felt your tears streaming down toward your ears. But you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to taste everything your body could offer him. And when he continued to fuck you, he responded to your silent waiting by licking the evidence of your offerings with his tongue, before giving way to his lips, coming to soothe the bite with kisses. Your tears and blood mixed on his tongue. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, looking at you. You slipped your index finger between his lips and the outline of a smirk was drawn on his lips as he sucked your finger. You then placed it against your clit, and began to caress it delicately. Your other fingers brushed against his cock, and the place where you two became one.

“Come for me…come on my cock.” It was almost like a plea, and it was enough for your orgasm to build. 

“Joel…please don’t stop. I…Fuck…I’m gonna cum.”

When you squeezed his cock, he thought he was going to cum between your folds without having time to pull out. He clenched his jaw so hard that you heard his teeth gnash. He pulled away and grabbed you by the arm, leading you to the dining room table where he bent you over. He pulled one of your knees up onto the wood, spreading you lewdly, and thrusted in, pressing your chest against the table with his hand. He fucked you so hard that your disjointed body was shaking, following his rough movements. You were so wet that all you could hear was the sounds of his sodden cock stuffing your pussy.

He was now growling and grunting, rumbling several “fuck”, while he was pounding you quickly. Spreading your ass cheeks with one hand, you heard the spittle of saliva reach your ass. He pressed his thumb against your tight ring, spreading his saliva, and pushed his finger in. The double stimulation was driving you crazy. Crazy about him, crazy about his whole body, crazy about the sensations you were feeling. Your second orgasm hit you, even stronger than the first one. A breathy “shit” escaped his lips just before he pulled out and shot his load against your asshole. He emptied his balls and collapsed on your body, his cock resting against your ass.

“You’re mine and I must protect you. You understand?" he managed to say between two breaths.

“Yes… yes, Joel.”

Before leaving, he told you not to go near the corner of Stillman and Cross for 24 hours. You didn't ask any questions, and nodded.

When you got home, you couldn't stop smiling. You felt close to him. Protected by him. Nothing could happen to you, he wouldn’t allow it.

When you fell asleep in your bed that night, you could still smell his scent on you.The moon was round and full, and lit your face all night while you slept. You dreamed of him. Of his hands, his cock, his gaze. You slept better than ever, that night.

The next day, upon reaching Area 5, one of Robert's men asked you if you knew what had happened. You shook your head, waiting for his explanation. A knot tightened in your stomach even before he answered.

“Robert’s dead. Joel and Tess were seen leaving the place where he was found.”

You walked towards the corner of Stillman and Cross, looking for him on every street. Finally, you saw him, near his apartment. He was walking quickly, behind Tess. And…a kid you didn’t know. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed preoccupied. He was carrying a backpack, so was Tess. 

It was raining.

He turned around, as if to see whether they were being followed. And that's when he saw you, across the street. Your eyes met for a few seconds, and he shook his head “no” to you, before entering his building. The knot in your stomach came back, more painful than earlier.

You didn't sleep that night.

When you went back to his apartment, the morning after, he wasn’t there anymore.

You never saw him again, never knew if he was still alive. The hope he would return to Boston had left you a long time ago. Sometimes you thought you were seeing him in the streets of the QZ. But it was never him, and each time you cried when you realized it.

You had wondered for a long time if he knew that he was going to leave that day. You still wondered sometimes. And you hated him for leaving you alone with this void inside you, bigger than ever. With no one to protect you.

You never managed to find out more about his past, during the times you were with him. Never knew why he kept this broken watch on his wrist night and day. He had remained largely a mystery to you.

When the anger had passed, you thought a lot about your moments with him. All those times he showered you, fed you. Only now understanding that it was his way of taking care of you, of showing you his affection. He probably didn't know how else to express it, broken by this world, and whatever happened to him.

You understood that the last thing he told you was meant to protect you.

A few times you went to the Mission hill pier. You watched the black waves that washed up there. They were often agitated.

After his departure the anger that had lived in your soul for so long dissipated. Now you felt empty.

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

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@magpiepills @axshadows @mermaidgirl30 @bbyanarchist @missannwinchester @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bonezone44 @joeldjarin @pedge-page @christinamadsen

[xiao-come-home]

Genshin men's favorite part of your body;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli, Ayato, Itto, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Thoma.

✰ Words: 2,6k.

✰ N/SFW blurbs, fem!reader. MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. Warnings below.

Warning: mentions of lingerie, public groping kinda, implied fucking in the bathroom, itto needs a leash, nipple sucking, reader touching themselves for a character, neck kisses, marking, cock kissing, thigh fucking, pussy eating and grinding, msg me to add more.

A/N: i tried to make it chrismas-y but failed and horny took over at the end. (fingerg/uns). mobile formatting has failed me.

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Kaeya:

i think we all agree that he's an ass man. he'll stare at your ass with no shame whatsoever, even if he's caught. "that's a whole buffet right there, babe," he says, as he slaps your ass and giggles. speaking of, he always has to keep a hand on your ass if he's drinking in a bar - it just gently rests in the back pocket of your jeans. might actually cum a bucket if you reverse cow-girl him, and the said position gives him a bit of contemplation, whether he wants to rip your panties apart or leave them, hmm, it's the third one this week, but you won't mind, right? Kaeya is surely big on lingerie, and if you combine it with his obsession with ass - especially one that defines your cheeks - you might want to take a day off.. oh! also, he'll purposely drop ANYTHING to make you bend down.

the cavalry captain observes you as you hastily serve drinks in Angel's Share - you've promised Diluc to help during the Christmas party that the tavern runs every year. his sapphire eyes follow your figure right and left, as he finishes yet another shot of the holiday special - glaring at the drunkards that blatantly stare at your adorable, Santas-adorned skirt, which seemed way too short for this type of celebration. feeling his patience running out, he stands up from his seat and approaches you, wrapping his hands around your waist and bringing you closer. "oh my, who do we have here?" kaeya giggles, pushing one, lonely strand of hair behind your ear, "why must you tease me so much, snowflake? and during christmas, out of all holidays?" he pouts, the hand sliding from your waist to grab a handful of your plush ass roughly. feeling his breath closer and closer and his fingers slipping past your panties, a certain redhead attempts to de-escalate the situation, nudging his brother with an elbow and nodding his head - red eyes focused on the bathroom, "don't make too much noise."

Ayato:

this man is a LEG MAN and I do not accept anything else. His brain starts acting up as soon as you wear heels, show your legs or thighs in any way, just seeing how that thigh highs hug you so, so perfectly, he feels his cock twitch in his pants. Expect many secret leg touches under kotatsu or tables, to have you, his pretty wife all dolled up next to him during the important meetings, being the obedient little one and trying not to moan, as his hand plays a dangerous game near your core. Nothing works to make him pay attention to other parts of your body, say - you're wearing booty shorts? Oh, but would you look at how your legs seem way longer and more delicious? He's absolutely going to devour and worship your legs, even if you're wearing an innocent Santa costume with long, red dress. He's obsessed about buying you cute tights, thigh highs, especially on occasions like holidays - candy cane themed, raindeers, snowflakes - everything he lays his eyes on is going to your shared closet.

"Go ahead, love - try them on for me. Good, now sit on my lap," Ayato's eyes wander to your legs, eyeing them in their entirety, up from the thighs, all the way down to your ankles before you come closer, slowly riding up your crimson skirt, "We need to try them out, right?" His hand caresses your knee softly, the delicate material of the white tights decorated with gingerbread men feels too good against his palm, almost too good, but you can't miss his wide pupils and how his lower lip disappears between his teeth. not long after, you find yourself sprawled on the bed, your cunt clenching around his dick; ayato pounds into you while your legs are pressed to his chest and shoulders, kneading your breasts delicately.

Itto:

the one and oni could never fully decide - that's why he settled down with breasts and tummy. no matter what, if you wear a revealing t-shirt or dress, there is no way to prevent his eyes from shamelessly staring at your chest for at least solid 5 minutes. Itto never pressures you to wear something for him (that'd be a bit hypocritical lol), but if you decide to tease him - if your chest is on the bigger side and the oni notices the way your breasts are pressed together, it takes him (pinching hand emoji) this close to ripping the clothing off and start marking your tits with love bites. BUT! if you're on the smaller side - he absolutely doesn't mind! he actuallly encourages you to go braless! totally not because whenever he catches a glimpse of your hardened nipples, he's immediately about to start sucking on them, regardless if he's in public or not.. his fixation on your nipples might one day get him in trouble.

as you adjust the tinsel above the crackling fireplace, you feel large hands envelop your stomach - someone familiar approaches you from behind, "that's a nice sweater you have, lil bug," itto's massive palms rub your tummy gently, only to swiftly go under the warm, green knitwear with a snowman and graze your bare skin with his claws, "but there's somethin' about it," he bends down and latches his lips on your neck, sucking bruises and soothing them with his tongue. his hands make his way up to your bra, cutting the material in half with his sharp, inky nail, "it's in the goddamn way."

Xiao:

the yaksha has taken a strong liking to your hands, preferably bare, hungry for skin-to-skin contact after so many years of facing loneliness. though, each time his golden eyes follow your hand movements, even innocent ones - sinful thoughts begin to flood his mind - how your pretty hands stroke his cock each time you get intimate, the way your hands get lost in his hair when your tongues dance together. xiao's breath hitches in his throat as he watches your palm slide down his chest to get under his tight shirt, only to slide back up and tease his hard pe-- he shakes his head and sighs in defeat, clutching the jade spear. either way, there's no doubt xiao will become putty in your grasp as soon as you brush your thumb over his lower lip.

liyue has finally welcomed winter - the snow has fallen, along with the temperature. the frost clings tightly to the window, but xiao - he finds himself getting hotter and hotter with every minute that passes. he swallows harshly, observing you naked before him, lying on the bed with your legs spread - you tease him by gliding your hand over your breasts. xiao grips the sheets tightly as soon as you pinch one of your nipples and moan his name; his eyes immediately fall onto your wet pussy, malachite brows furrowing at the sight of your glistening folds. he watches as your hands roam around your body sensually touching yourself, the fairy lights reflecting various colors in your eyes... he's patient, but seeing you play lazily with your clit, smearing your juices all over your slit and finally, finally inserting them inside you seems like he cannot wait any longer.

Diluc:

he's truly addicted to your neck and will not deny it. i don't just mean only intimate sessions, no - he's so crazy about it, that to him neck kisses are the equivalent of cheek kisses. when you greet him, you don't turn your cheek to him, you tilt your head to the side only to feel his warm lips on your neck and vermilion hair tickling your shoulder. if diluc doesn't make new love bites, he absolutely presses gentle, wet kisses onto the already-existing ones, letting out quiet whimpers from time to time. he waits (im)patiently for them to heal, only to feel his mouth water at the sight of your now clean neck, staring at it for a bit too long and replaying the previous sessions of marking you in his mind. diluc goes overboard sometimes - and the only way to physically stop him from locking his lips on your neck is to wear turtlenecks.

the glass squeaks slightly as you carefully polish it with a cloth - it's currently rush hour at Angel's Share - the Christmas special sold out almost immediately, and the tavern is filled with loud laughs, chatter, and occasional yelling. you see Kaeya leaving his seat with a prominent blush and a slight scowl on his face, walking towards the new staff member. you shrug it off, picking up his empty shot glass to begin cleaning it, but the sudden hug from behind and the weight on your shoulder stop you. "it's cold today, isn't it?" diluc smirks and nuzzles into your neck - or rather the material that covers it - one of his hands travel to tug it down, to give him the access to the forbidden fruit he's been dying to bite since you arrived. his lips pepper small kisses on your hickeys, almost apologetically; you feel him push himself on you more, locking you between him and the counter. diluc's tongue traces the bruises he's made a few days prior, leaving a wet track of saliva and trying badly not to let out the moan he's been holding. "diluc," you say his name silently, earning only a hum from him, "your brother is about to have sex on that table."

Alhaitham:

he was the only one to genuinely and quite nonchalantly admit that your lips are his favorite, and then went back to casually reading his book. it makes sense now - all the subtle glances at your lips whenever you are near him, always kissing away the tiny bits of food stuck on them, noticing your new lip glosses or lipsticks. alhaitham is a private person - therefore, he only gives a few kisses in public, but at home - he loves making out with you as much as possible; he can't wait to feel your lips after spending a whole day at the akademiya. he can't wait to brush his thumb over your lips, to gently work his mouth over yours, to cradle your face and lick your lower lip and silently ask for permission to deepen the kiss. it doesn't matter if you're just doing the laundry or cooking - he WILL lick off that strawberry lip gloss you've bought. the scribe generally doesn't care much about where your lips are on his body - be it his neck, cheeks, or lips - his only weakness is seeing your pretty mouth near his cock.

it's hard to say what alhaitham likes more - your mouth sucking his cock, or straight up having it messily played with by your lips. he adores the way his stiff length disappears in your mouth, but also, he's trying his best not to cum while watching you kiss his cock. in fact, you don't have to suck him off to make him cum - the sheer view of you making out with his dick while whimpering against it might be just enough. he can't wait to return the favor - to smear your essence all over his lips and dive in for a kiss later. hopefully kaveh doesn't mind all that noises while decorating the chrismas tree.

Dainsleif:

oh my god. someone stop him before he passes out between your thighs. if dainsleif was about to die, that's the only acceptable place. but in a more serious tone, he ridiculously loves your thighs to the point that he cannot stop touching them when you're alone with him. though, he does like to keep his hand on your thigh if you're in public, perhaps in a tavern. he doesn't overstep but does like to tease you and rub his hand back and forth, slipping his hand toward your center occasionally, chuckling to himself after you seal his hand between the soft flesh of your legs. he could spend an eternity worshipping your thighs, in a way - he's very similar to diluc; ready to mark your thighs with his love bites, kiss them, lick them, bite the sweet skin lightly. dain religiously gives you oral on almost every occasion, hoping to feel your thighs squeeze his head tightly as you cum on his tongue.

if there's anything else that dain's mind goes blank almost immediately for - it's the thigh fucking. he feels his head spin as he fucks your thighs, using your cum as lube; you clench around nothing seeing his cock head peek and disappear as he thrusts into you. dainsleif tries to keep his composure, but his face betrays him: the furrowed brows, full-blown out pupils, his teeth gritting, hissing at the pleasure, desperately trying to enjoy the supple skin longer. little does he know, he's about to paint your thighs white.

Zhongli:

although it didn't seem as strange before, the geo archon has bought you many rings. his face always lights up and he extends his arm to gently caress the new rings with his thumb, before bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on top of it, and then each finger. after countless innocent suggestions to stop wearing gloves, having his hand on top of yours and having him absentmindedly playing with your fingers - you've guessed right, zhongli does indeed like your fingers the most. he smiles sweetly as he compliments your new nail polish - but behind that smile, deep down, his brain imagines those pretty fingers trying to grip his fat dick and not being able to connect with each other due to his size. he can't wait to suck them and see your pussy flutter as you fuck yourself with his spit on your fingers.

he wouldn't have ever guessed that this is what truly makes gets him going; yet, Zhongli found himself playing with you like a toy. he has you sat on his lap with your back pressed to his chest; your entrance is soaked already, tiny beads of sweat on your naked body begin to appear. his immense geo-infused hand with gold veins envelops yours, and he can't help but adore the purity of your own. he slides both of your hands together past your breasts, stopping at your tummy to turn your head slightly and kiss you with his split tongue; he swallows your moan as he guides the hands again onto your slit, rubbing it affectionately. you intertwine your other hand with Zhongli's unoccupied one and gasp, feeling his hand circle your clit with your own fingers, shortly before letting go and entering your hot cunt with his.

Bonus blurb~!

Thoma:

this poor thing sees your pussy and is instantly gone. everything about it makes him stop in his tracks when dirty thoughts appear - thinking how prettily your panties outline your pussy, being able to see your pussy lips hidden in your underwear when you bend down because ayato just dropped something by complete accident... thoma can't take his eyes off you as he enters you, watching your hole take him entirely, his mind racing and hoping to hear the squelching sounds from your soaking cunt. he has a habit of gently slapping your pussy with his hard cock, grinding between your pussy lips - but he asked nicely, so please let him! thoma also worships your pussy and hopes you don't mind him making out with your clit and your tight hole, desperately trying to swallow your juices so nothing goes to waste. he tries to get some friction and grinds against the mattress, his face flushed as he laps at your pussy, holding your thighs harshly and moaning against your opening like a bitch in heat, silently urging you to pull his hair and bring his face even closer.

[vintagebunnies]

i posted something about this a few months back i think, so i’m bringing it back out just in time for the holidays! 18+ under the cut, mdni

there’s still a week until christmas. snowflakes just barely sticking to the ground, leaving a light sheet of the cold slush on the grass.

the inside of eddie’s trailer is the mixture of colorful lights and tacky christmas decorations, sparkly and handmade ornaments decorating the small tree in the corner of the living room.

eddie never cared for christmas. once his mother passed away, the holiday became almost miserable to celebrate without her around. wayne tried his hardest to make it pleasant for eddie, putting together dilapidated ginger bread houses and small gifts wrapped in newspaper.

eddie appreciated it either way, he knew wayne didn’t have much money and made do with what he had. it was the thought that was put into the small gestures.

but as soon as you came into eddie’s life, you did everything you could to make the once lonely christmas into one filled with love and joy. christmas was now something eddie looked forward to, feeling like the luckiest man alive to spend it with you.

but the one thing he didn’t like about christmas time was the gifts. every year without fail, you always got him something expensive and flashy, something he wasn’t able to afford. he pleaded with you to not get him anything, he felt guilty that he couldn’t return the favor. sticking to the more cheaper gifts.

so to say he was the slightest bit upset when you presented him with a delicately wrapped gift was an understatement.

“baby, i told you not to get me anything,” eddie said with a small smile on his face.

“come on, it’s not a big deal. just open it eddie.” you said shaking your head.

he didn’t argue much more, he just let out a breathless chuckle and started to slowly unravel the wrapping paper.

he was being so gentle as to not rip the paper, taking the sparkly red bow on the top and sticking it on the small coffee table in front of the couch, probably to save it for future gifts.

once he finally got the red and green wrapping paper off, it revealed the black faux leather book inside. he looked to you with one of his signature smiles, dimples on both sides of his cheeks.

when he opened the book though, nothing prepared him for what it would uncover.

there you were, front in center in santa clause themed lingerie. the fur on the top accentuated your breasts and brought his full attention to them. the red thong you had on saved little for the imagination, barely even covering you. but that wasn’t the best part.

you were sitting in front of an extravagant christmas tree with a fluffy white skirt wrapped around the stump. tinsel was haphazardly draped around your body, surely trying to make it seem like you got yourself stuck on accident.

eddie’s eyes were wide, and his face was almost as red as the lingerie you had on in the pictures. he analyzed every photo in great detail, never once skipping a page. eddie was sure that this was one of the best gifts ever given.

“um- when did you take these?” eddie’s voice sounded strained, which you knew was because of the problem he was now sporting in his lap.

“last week, i’ve had it planned since halloween,” your voice sounded meek. “do you like it?”

“like it? sweetheart, i’m trying not to bust in my jeans right now,” you lightly smacked his arm at the vulgarity of his words, even though the little book you gifted him proved to be a lot worse than what he said.

“i still have that little number if you wanna see it up close,” your hand glided dangerously close to the inside of his thigh.

you gave him a real up close view of the outfit for the remainder of the night.

[whatthefishh]

Hi sweetie! Happy early birthday! I suppose the prompts I am choosing from your list is: Jake, Fluff and skating date. ❄️ 💕 If you DONT have to do this prompt that’s okay! I still hope you have a wonderful day and you enjoy your birthday. 🎂 🌙✨

- Nikē

Hi darling 🥰 I would love to go skating with Papi, so here you gooo

(600 words of Jake fluff, birthday series part 2, thanks for the title Kitty)

Skating into Sweetness

You don’t know why you agreed to this (you do, it was his eyes). You’re struggling to catch your footing, ice skates laced up tight, knees bent inwards to try not to fall as you wave your hands frantically in the air for balance. You had only ever gone skating once before swearing off the activity due to your utter failure. Fast forward to now, where Jake had convinced you to go skating with him at Somerset, with claims of the rink being lit up with pretty lights, hot chocolate waiting for you afterwards and a great opportunity for some instagram pics. He never told you he was ridiculously good at the activity, making you feel embarrassed for being a fully grown adult with absolutely zero foot coordination on the ice. There were children doing laps around you for goodness sake.

“You go on without me, I need a break!” you leaned against the wall of the rink, calling out to Jake who was literally spinning circles in front of you, as effortless as a professional.

Catching your balance and your breath, you watched as he sped around the diameter of the ice, gliding through the throngs of people easily enough to catch the eyes of more than a couple onlookers. On his way back to you, you watched him smile at you but easily got distracted by his thighs flexing as he propelled himself forward, the muscles visible through his dark wash denim jeans. Now you could see exactly why he was getting some appreciative glances.

Coming to a stop in front of you, he was panting slightly with a wide smile on and snowflakes sitting prettily on his long lashes. You felt foolish for feeling foolish, only now taking in the fact that Jake was having such a good time and you were happy to be spending the time with him doing something he so clearly enjoyed. Smiling back at him, you reached for his hands with both of yours, entwining your fingers and slowly easing yourself off the wall to stand shakily with him on the ice.

“Maybe if we try like this, I can keep up?” you asked timidly, not wanting to rain on his fun but wanting to share his joy.

“Getting tired trying to keep up, mi vida?”

“You know I stand no chance against those thighs.”

“Hmm, that is true, amor. Come, let’s take a lap and then settle in with some hot chocolate, si?”

“Ooooh, hot chocolate sounds amazing,” you perk up at the thought, eager to start gliding across the ice with Jake’s help.

With Jake skating backwards and holding your hands, you managed to make it around the rink twice with no falls before tapping out for the aforementioned promised drinks. Still holding his hand in line for refreshments, you reached your hand out with your cell phone camera facing the both of you to snap some pictures of the lovely evening. Your cheeks and noses were cold and numb from the chill, smiles almost hard to conjure but the sparkle in your eyes were unmistakable, even on camera.

For the last shot, Jake had his arms wrapped around you from behind, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek making you grin into the camera. The picture was so tooth-rotting, so sweet, the side of Jake not everyone was privy to knowing, it warmed your heart so much you immediately changed your wallpaper, smiling down at your phone goofily while he purchased your drinks.

“You’re gonna make Steven jealous, you know.” Jake hummed into your ear as he looked at your new wallpaper.

[warlocksoup]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI

undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

CHAPTER THREE: close

Akaashi is leaning his head against her shoulder, which is unusual.

She tries to not let on how much it’s actually affecting her, her hands roughly knotted together in her lap. The train slows to a halt, the doors open, people exit, and Akaashi’s still leaned up against her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like he does this sort of thing all the time.

Maybe it’s part of the act. Pretending to be affectionate with her in public so it comes more naturally to him when they’re with others. Maybe he doesn’t think anything of it. Maybe he just needed to close his eyes, for a second, and she’s just a close enough resting spot.

She shouldn’t be given these small allowances. All she can do is imagine more. Running a hand through the strands of messy hair that tickle at her jawline. His hand resting on the top of her thigh, thumb curving around to cradle the inner seam of her jeans. Her lips grazing along the top of his head, his along the skin of her neck.

The train continues on.

Akaashi shifts. He rolls his head back to look up at her. “Hey,” he says, quietly, so no one else on the train can hear.

She doesn’t try to look at him; she occupies herself with her hands instead. “Hey.”

“Almost there?” he questions, sleep thick in his voice. He’s exhausted-she knows the sound of it.

Her eyes flick up towards the map that is displayed above the train doors. “Another two stops.”

“Thanks,” he says, and nestles himself into the crook of her neck. “You’re really warm,” Akaashi tells her, like it’s nothing, and she can feel her face get hot.

The train emerges from a tunnel, and the dull, gray skylight floods it at once. The windows are being hit with thick, heavy snowflakes. “Hey Keiji,” she says, watching as the snow hits the train, only to start to melt, once it’s there.

“Yeah?”

The train shrieks and squeals over the tracks. “Do you think people would be mad at us, if they knew what we were doing?”

Akaashi shifts beneath her. He still doesn’t lift his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”

She thinks of Alisa, for a moment. She tries to figure out what her face would look like, if she knew the truth. Furled up in anger or downturned in sadness, or some combination of both. It’s hard to picture. She’s never seen Alisa look like anything other than perfectly pleasant and pleased. She taps her finger against her knee.

She’s been thinking of Alisa a lot lately. The way she might feel about thinks, her reactions, her thoughts. Wondering and theorizing, trying to get a grip on her. She doesn’t know why, but at some point over the past few days, she’s just started to feel bad for the girl.

Akaashi lifts his head, and she tries not to look disappointed. His hair is slightly frizzy from the friction of her shoulder, and he has to straighten out his glasses. He keeps his face close when he says to her, “People do stupid shit for love all the time, though.”

Yeah, she agrees silently, turning her head away from him. Yeah, they do.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

IMESSAGE iwaizumi: it’s been a few days. i just wanted to see if you were doing ok iwaizumi: i’m sorry to text you so much. i’m just bad at stopping myself

She’s taking space at the library from someone who actually needs it. Someone who would use her table for studying and essay writing and anything other than uselessly staring at a text she didn’t want to receive, trying to figure out how to reply in the least offensive way possible.

She doesn’t know what it is Iwaizumi expects from her.  She’s never lied to him or made false promises or done anything to give him any sense of hope. He knows she’s just as hopeless as he is, and yet, he still comes to her. Texts her. Invites her over. Opens himself up to her over and over, just to always get the same outcome, in the end.

Her phone drops on top of her textbook, and she leans back in her chair, stretching her spine, letting her neck drop from one side to the other. The snow is still piling up outside. She figures she should just cut her losses and skip her next class in favor of going home early to avoid the inevitable buildup.

She pockets her phone and slides her textbook into the bag she kept by her feet, and sends out a silent prayer that tonight, she will find it in herself to accomplish something, but it’s interrupted by the enthusiastic call of her name.

Several heads turn in annoyance at the source of it, but Alisa doesn’t pay them any mind. She marches right up to her with a wide grin, and a waving arm. “Hey,” she greets cheerfully as she approaches, stopping to hover around the library table. “I’m so glad I caught you here! I was hoping I’d run into you!”

She swallows, feeling nervous and unprepared for whatever this conversation might lead to. “Oh, hey Haiba. What’s up?”

“You and Akaashi are finally going out!” Alisa squeals, fists curled tightly under her chin, and fuck, she’s so annoyed to admit she looks so cute when she does it. “I’m so happy for you guys! I always thought you two would make the cutest couple.”

It’s probably one of the last things she wants to hear from her, but she has to put on this big, fake grin that she hopes look natural, and not like someone’s holding a gun to her head, telling her to be happy about it. “You’re too sweet,” she tells her, and means it. She wishes there was something more rotted to Alisa, something that made it easier to hate her.

“Listen,” Alisa rambles, hands now leaning on the empty chair next to her, “I was really hoping that you might want to come by sometime to hang out! I’m having a few friends over on Friday, and I’d really love to get to know you a lot better.”

“Me?” she echoes back, unsure if she should feel as immediately distraught as she does.

Alisa rolls her eyes at herself. “I know it’s totally random and out of nowhere for me to ask you, and it must seem really weird. But I just spend a lot of time with Akaashi on projects and in the writing center, and we’re pretty close. I just want to get to know you better so I’m not like, that weird ‘girl best friend,’ y’know? Like I don’t want you to think I’m like, into him, or trying to steal him away or anything.”

Immediately, Alisa realizes her words and flushes red, turning her face down, and it’s all she can do to just gape at her. “Ugh! Sorry, that was so weird to say it like that. I just thought if we spent time together, it wouldn’t be weird for you when me and Akaashi spend time together.”

It’s so fucking considerate it makes her annoyed. Of course she would worry about that. Of course Alisa would go out of her way to make her feel more comfortable. It’s just the type of thing she would do.

No wonder Akaashi’s so goddamn in love with her.

She smiles, forcefully and tightly, and does her best not to cry. “Thanks, that’s really sweet. I mean, I’m not one of those, y’know, I wouldn’t assume that about you. But I’d love to come over Friday, if that’s still cool.”

Alisa smiles so brightly that she thinks she might fall in love with her, too.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“Well, is that good or bad? Like what does that mean?”

Akaashi is lying on her bed, tossing a volleyball straight up in the air and letting it land easy in his palms once again. She’s at her desk, face in her hands, staring at the same passage of words she was stuck on in the library.

“I dunno,” she mumbles. “Could go either way.”

In her peripherals, she watches him toss up the ball and catch it again, cradling it for a moment. “What does that mean?”

She sighs. She would much rather be doing anything else than dissecting secret meanings of Alisa’s words. But it’s Akaashi, and she can’t bring herself to say no. “Well, she could’ve really meant it when she said she didn’t want me to worry. But also, when people feel jealous, they try to get closer to the person they’re jealous of. It happens all the time. So, like I said, it could go either way.”

“Which way do you think it is?”

She wants to hit her head against the wall. “I dunno, Keiji. I’ll tell you if she says anything else.”

Maybe he can hear the annoyance in her voice, because he drops the ball to the side and sits up, leaning against it. “Thank you, by the way. For talking with her and going Friday. And just helping with this whole thing in general.”

“Yeah,” she says. “No problem.”

Akaashi’s silent for a second. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

She leans back in her chair, and swivels to face him. “I gotta finish this reading for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he nods, and stands. “I’ll quit bothering you about her. But, seriously, I am really grateful to you.”

“I know, Keiji,” she says, looking down.

His hand is on the doorknob of her bedroom. “And let me know if you wanna borrow my notes on Tolstoy.”

She waves a hand. “Will do.”

Akaashi leaves then, and oddly, she feels grateful for his absence.

taglist: @charlotterosea13 @quikhs @mdmraz @nazwrites-2002 @hanadulsetaad @nokjhg @alexithemiyatic @kvrokasaa @wyrcan @baylz @soobin1437 @myromanempiree @shoujoromancelover @tsumuus @recordsndreams @mochroialainn @lvtilzs @sleepzyy @kameyyy @introvertsince2003 @whorefornoodles @strxwberri-s @mjustag1rl @cherrywinelovescherries @jojo23allegra @daisy-room @iluv-ace @thatonecroc @keeboismine @asrinchin @cheriisae @ttarpii @tsumuus @tangyangie @zmbielover69 @angee444 @chocolains @kr1nqu @bakingcuriosity @localgaytrainwreck @ashyiiy @boooolame @acowboykisser @ghostreader0307 @nattyluvs @justagirlnamedkai

taglist is OPEN, complete this form to be added

[briingmayflowers]

By definition, nothing that has been left on May's table looks 'Christmassy', so it totally counts as an 'end of year' present. There's a glass jar that protected a small holly plant, the colours of which are more vibrant than usual. There are other glass containers too, for the intruder had learned that a witch can never have too many glass thingamabobs. There's even a little bundle of carrots for Peter!

But don't think Deirdre has been forgotten. There's a little gift bag with her name on it. There's a pale yellow pouch with a lavender design embroidered on it. The pouch is mostly full, but completely sealed, allowing for gentle squeezing to release a smell of lavender. Accompanying that, there's a small hot water bottle in a toy that looks like a black cat. (rosetintedgunman)

Although May's family didn't celebrate Christmas as such, the festive season had always held a special place in her heart. From the day that Yule began on the twenty first until the start of the new year, she spent time with the ones she loved, ate tasty treats, shared gifts and honoured centuries old traditions.

Flouncing through from the bathroom on the morning of the twenty fifth, dressed in a festive jumper and jeans, she was surprised to not only find Deirdre sitting on the end of her bed with Fawkes on her lap, but to find that she was also wearing a festive jumper with white snowflakes and skulls knitted into the pattern.

"I think your pink friend has stopped by," she commented with a nod towards her bedside table, the tips of her painted fingernails running against Fawkes' black fur.

"Wilford?" A bright smile spread across May's lips, stopping in front of the presents that had been left there.

"If that's the guy who has a pink moustache, then yes," she responded noncommittally. "Except...his moustache was only a little pink and he was dressed like Santa Claus for some reason." May smiled knowingly, eyeing the glass containers and vibrant holly plant. "Yep, that'll be him! How did he know I needed some new containers for my herbs?"

"Because he's Santa Claus?" suggested Deirdre drily, rolling her eyes. When May didn't object, Deirdre suddenly seemed surprised. "Wait...he's not really-?"

May turned over the tag on the gift bag and picked it up to hand it to Deirdre. "See for yourself. There's a present here for you, too." Exchanging a look of bewilderment between May and the bag, Deirdre timidly reached forward to peer inside. Before she had even inspected the present, the smell of lavender wafted into her face and immediately her muscles relaxed.

Even Fawkes seemed calmed by the scent, his eyes closing lethargically as a soft purr hummed into the air. Deirdre's fingers ran over the embroidery, feeling the rough lines in the stitching. May sat opposite her on her dressing table stool, silently watching her Mirror Self taking in the presents with a soft expression of wonder.

Once she had fully inspected the pouch, she reached into the bag and pulled out the hot water bottle shaped like a black cat. Her hands ran through the soft fur and she hugged it into her chest. Then, she tried to show Fawkes that it looked like him, but she noted how he was fast asleep. Seeing that, she couldn't help but laugh, which prompted May to join her.

"Believe he's the real Santa now?" asked May. Deirdre looked up at her, eyes sparkling. "...Maybe. Tell him I said thanks, okay?"

@rosetintedgunman

[earlgreydream]

butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles​ i’m so soft for draco 

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you. 

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class. 

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you. 

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled. 

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration. 

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly. 

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat. 

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.” 

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S. 

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons. 

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince. 

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up. 

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her. 

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric. 

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.” 

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm. 

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm. 

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans. 

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face. 

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing. 

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.” 

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss. 

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.” 

“Come on, let’s get going.” 

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco. 

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.” 

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.” 

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley. 

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat. 

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold. 

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you. 

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle. 

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore. 

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you. 

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly. 

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter. 

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer. 

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all. 

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost. 

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps. 

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat. 

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly. 

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms. 

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

[annabethy]

december 8: christmas pastries

Percy finds that he likes looking at Annabeth.

He loves being able to see the way she interacts with the world. He finds new things he hadn’t noticed about her all the time, and he makes it a game to see how much more he can learn. Even now, he’s noticing for the first time how when she walks around the small market, her hands trace over everything in her path. He explores through her hands and her eyes track every detail around her, from the blinking lights hanging from each of the market tents to the footprints tracked through the snow.

His eyes end up falling down to her stomach, barely visible through the open front of her coat. It’s easy to see the subtle waddle she does through the snow as she explores with Percy following closely behind. It hadn’t always been there, and Percy doesn’t want it to ever disappear.

“Percy?”

Percy presses his lips to the top of her head. “Mh-hm?”

“I was talking to you.”

“Were you?” Percy lifts his head and kisses her temple. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“Can we get some of the pastries?”

“Which one?”

“All of them.” Annabeth smiles innocently when Percy looks at her, scolding. “Blame your child.”

“My child?” Percy prompts, teasing. “Only mine? Not at all your child?”

“You’re the troublemaker,” Annabeth says as they begin walking again. Percy tries to steer her away from the ice on the path, and Annabeth tries to jerk her hand out of his. “We’ve talked about this, haven't we?”

“You mean you’ve blamed me every time the kid does something wrong despite not being born yet?” Percy asks, humored. “I think I remember that, yeah.”

“I’m kidding,” Annabeth says, propping her chin on his chest. Percy brushes her hair from her face lovingly “For the most part, anyway.”

“I know you are. Everyone that knows you knows that you’re the real trouble.”

Annabeth pushes herself into his side and snakes a hand through his shirt to press her icy palm to his back. Percy jumps at that, but he doesn’t have the effort to dwell on it when she giggles into his neck and he almost melts into a puddle in adoration.

“So are you going to buy your child any of the Christmas pastries?”

“I’ll buy our child one,” Percy says.

“I want five.”

“Who do you think I am?” Percy laughs out. “I don’t have that type of money.”

“Not even for me?”

They stop by one of the booths that Annabeth leads them to, and Percy turns to her as they wait in the line.

“For you, I’ll think about it.” Annabeth seems to be content in that, and she turns back to face the tent as the line moves forward. Percy’s eyes stay on her, though.

It’s snowing the slightest bit, and he thinks she looks so pretty as the snowflakes land in her hair. She looks delicate in this light as there’s a tiny gap in the clouds where sunlight is able to shine through. He wants to take a picture of her like this, but he can’t bear to look away and miss any moment of it, so he does his best to memorize the scene instead.

“Do you want anything?”

Percy shakes his head, pressing into her back and wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m alright.”

He pays absentmindedly, and he has a swept smile on his face as she takes a bite of what looks suspiciously like a beignet. They wind up sitting on a bench after wiping off the snow. It’s still wet and freezing through Percy’s jeans, so Percy pulls Annabeth into his lap and rests his chin on her shoulder.

Annabeth holds the treat up to his mouth. “Do you want some?”

“You can have it.”

She tilts her head. “Come on.”

“You’re full, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but also, I feel like sharing.” Annabeth nudges him lightly. “We can do it Lady and the Tramp style.”

Percy laughs. “Oh, god.”

“It’s also an excuse to make out in public.”

“I mean. That’s not happening, but I’ll give you a kiss.”

“A singular kiss? That’s so rude.”

“Two kisses,” Percy compromises.

“That’s better,” Annabeth says, sounding truly unconvinced. She holds the beignet up to his lips, and he takes a gracious bite. She follows him and takes a bite off the other end, and they can’t help but laugh at each other so close up.

When Percy pulls away, there’s powder on Annabeth’s lips, and he’s sure his face is just as messy.

Annabeth licks at her thumb and asks, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s good,” Percy says, laughing and wiping at her cheek. “And incredibly messy.”

“Isn’t that the point of Christmas pastries?”

“To make a mess?” Percy grins. “Absolutely.”

“You love me and my messes.”

“I’d sure hope so.” Percy threads his hand through her hair. “I did marry you, after all.”

Annabeth smiles against his lips when he tugs her toward him lightly to kiss her. She tastes like the powdered sugar of the pastry, and she’s smiling so adorably into the kiss that he kisses her again and then one more time.

“I love you,” Percy says against her.

“Enough to buy me another dessert?”

“Didn’t you say you were full?”

“I lied.”

Percy rolls his eyes, and his lips quirk up. “I love you enough to buy you two more desserts.”

“Oh, wow,” Annabeth says. “That’s a lot of love.”

“I do have to love you double, after all,” Percy says. “There are two of you.”

“You make it sound so weird.”

“It kind of is,” Percy admits. “I love it.”

“Can we get something else?”

“What do you want?”

“I think I saw a sugar cookie.”

“More sugar?”

“I don’t want to see any judgment from you,” Annabeth says. “Your child—”

Percy gives her a playful look.

“Our child,” she corrects, “Just likes sugar. Or I do. But that’s my excuse, anyway.

“Okay. Let’s go get something else.” Percy stands from the bench, but Annabeth just leans onto her palms and looks at him expectantly. He extends a hand to help her stand, and he laughs when she whines about it.

“This is mortifying,” Annabeth says, slipping her hand into his. “I can’t believe I can’t stand on my own.”

“I think it’s cute,” Percy tells her.

“You think everything I do is cute,” Annabeth says. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe, but it’s still adorable.” Annabeth flicks his nose lightly, and he retaliates by pulling her into his side. He nudges her nose with his. “Hey. I love you.”

Annabeth hums. “Do you?”

“So much.”

She taps his forehead. “Then you better get me that cookie fast.”

Percy laughs and kisses her once. “I guess I better.”

[nootgi]

Love? - Kaeya

A/N:// I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC WHILST I WORK ON MY OTHER REQS, I MAY HAVE CRIED A LIL WRITING THIS! I apologise for this story too T^T

Word count: 3k

“What’s love?” Kaeya paused at the question, his paperwork left forgotten on the table.

“Isn’t that a big question~!” He teases Annette, ruffling her hair. She puffs out her reddened cheeks and tries to move away from his hand, pressing Kaeya for an answer.

“Have you ever heard the phrase curiosity killed the cat? Though I suppose a baby like you wouldn’t know at such a young age.” He laughs, picking up the glass of grape juice to sip from. No alcohol around the children is what you strictly ordered when Kaeya decided to take Annette to work. For something like take your daughter to work day.

“I’m 6! I’m not a baby and mother says it’s good to be curious.” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at her words. That sounds very like you. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree he muses as he looks into Annie’s eyes, they hold the same wild innocence yours do. She has her mother’s eyes.

“Very well then, let me tell you a story.”

It was early April and the Windblume festival was coming to a close. The celebrations, despite coming to an ending, still kept the streets lively. Most of the people of Mondstadt were recovering from a hangover from last night’s heavy drinking but still had smiles on their faces. Kaeya was going for a stroll, to distract himself from the thoughts building in the back of his mind. He looked down at the plaza from where he stood, watching the clean up. It always felt bittersweet, taking down the flower garlands that hung from the buildings or rolling up the green carpets that lined the steps. He didn’t know how but he came to love Mondstadt so much... Well actually he did know. They accepted him for who he is, with all of his flaws and lies, Mondstadt and its people held a part of him he didn’t know he had. His family. And in that moment as windwheel aester petals blew from above, Mondstadt gave him something he’ll always be thankful for. 

“Here’s a flower for our cavalry captain!” You cheered, holding a cecilia flower in front of Kaeya’s face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You snuck up on him, attacking him at his weakest moment with a smile. Even though Windblume was coming to a close, you kept the festive cheer. You were handing out a variety of flowers to everyone in Mondstadt to spread the joy and love to everyone. 

“Such beauty handing me a flower, what did I do to deserve this.” He smirks at your momentary panic, ducking down slightly to be face to face. He takes the flower and smells it, hiding his smile in it’s petals. You scold him for saying such cheesy things to someone he just met. It was funny how even though it was your first meeting, your personalities fit perfectly as one. 

“Don’t you ever feel embarrassed by saying those things?” You adjust the flower that was tucked behind your ear.

“The only embarrassment I feel is that I have nothing in return for this lovely gift.” His hand comes up to fix the flower, tucking it perfectly behind your ear. The white petals glowing against your skin. That one encounter set the tradition of Kaeya and you giving presents back and forth every year during Windblume. Even as the years went on, the present stayed as a simple cecilia flower as an ode to that first meeting. 

“He didn’t believe in love at first sight. You could say it was only something that existed in fairy tales for plot convenience. It takes a lot more than first sight to fall in love but he swore that moment could’ve been it.” He looks back at the child who now climbed into his lap, she placed the red blanket over the two of them to make sure they were both comfortable. Her eyes were fixed on Kaeya, watching with eager eyes to hear more. He holds her close so she doesn’t fall off his lap as he continues his story. 

“Love can be the best feeling in the whole world but it can also be the worst.”

Kaeya stood in front of the crowd of kids with an odd look on his face. It wasn’t one you were used to seeing on his face, it was the look of utter confusion. You walked over to find out what was going on but decided to listen to the conversation first. 

“Sister Barbara said you’d be entertaining us! But this is boring!!” One of the kids said, the others around him nodding and some going far as to cheer. Kaeya didn’t know what to do. He was bad with kids, he couldn’t be mean otherwise Jean would have to deal with the complaints and he most definitely couldn’t use his usual lines. As he tried to think of something to do the kids started to chant ‘let’s play!’ and that’s when you finally decided to enter. 

“Hey there Captain! Need some help?” It was like an angel coming down from the heavens, he swore there was even a halo around your head. The kids, already knowing you, cheered at your entrance. Kaeya watched as you calmed the kids down, getting them to eat lunch and successfully buying time for the two of you to plan something to entertain them. 

“How’d you manage to get into this then Kaeya?” You approach him after giving the last child some apple juice. 

“Jean would normally do this but since it’s been a while since she spent time with her sister I decided to volunteer.” That stunned you for a moment, you heard stories from Amber about how Kaeya always seemed to avoid work and formed an unfair opinion of him in your head. You felt guilty because of those thoughts, you saw how he struggled with those kids but still put himself out there for the sake of Jean and Barbara. “But let’s not tell Jean that.” 

“Would it be so bad for Jean to know the truth?” You ask plainly, ignoring the way Kaeya said the last part of his sentence. 

“Well-” You didn’t even let him finish

“I think the problem you have Kaeya is that you’re too closed off, children are so open and trusting that the only way to get along with them is to do the same.” 

“That can’t be done overnight let alone in an hour (Y/N).” It was the first time Kaeya said your name and it sent shivers down your spine. The very thought of opening up felt dangerous to Kaeya, the last time he opened up the last of his family left him in the dust.

“You’re right in that area but we can take baby steps!” You weren’t deterred by the tall walls he built around himself. You used the word ‘we’. We can take baby steps. That’s all that lingered in Kaeya’s mind, it was like an informal promise from you to him that you’ll be beside him for that journey. 

“Then where do we start, captain cheerful?” You roll your eyes at the nickname but gesture towards the children. 

“We start with them.” That day was one of the best days Kaeya had since his childhood. He never thought hide and seek could be so thrilling or that duck duck goose could be so intense! The kids were more than happy to embrace Kaeya and his awkward aura, teaching him of super secret tactics that no-one would ever know. He found himself learning more about the children and about himself. At times when he feels his guard going back up, he glances over at you and sees you playing with some of the quieter children, bringing them out of their shells. Your smile blended in with the childish joy of the kids around the two of you. Sometimes your eyes caught each other's and you both just shyly laughed it off as kids pulled the two of you away in different directions. It was hard to catch a moment to talk to each other until you took the kids to watch the sunset by Cider lake. Most of the kids were settled on the grass, sitting crossed leg and talking about all the fun they had that day. One of the boys shyly tugged Kaeya’s leg, asking to be carried since his mother always did it for him. He looked towards you for help but you just gave two thumbs up, encouraging him. He carefully picked up the boy, letting him rest on his hip and one arm securing his waist. The boy rested his head on Kaeya's shoulder, using the fur on his shoulder as a pillow to slowly doze off. Kaeya stood still. He didn’t expect the day to go like this let alone carry a sleeping child too. You patted Kaeya’s shoulder to reassure him and the rest of the sunset was spent with whispered words exchanged between the two of you. After such a successful day, the two of you decided to take the kids once every week off of Jean’s hands. 

“Love didn’t make him become a better person magically but instead motivated him to strive for that. She inspired him to try and be a better version of himself. It wasn’t like she was perfect either, they both worked on themselves whilst inspiring each other. That’s the good side of love Annie, but there is a bad side too…” Annette saw Kaeya’s eyes darken a little and she moved her small hands to rest on top of his larger ones to comfort him. 

All Kaeya saw was red. It started off as a light hearted exchange between some treasure hunters that the two of you came across during an adventure. They used the typical story of their cart breaking down and needing help so they could lure adventurers into a trap before robbing them blind. Kaeya already knowing this tried to shut them down before anyone else could fall victim to them. He was going to only use his words since he didn’t want you getting hurt in the crossfire. He knew you could defend yourself but it was too risky with the amount of numbers they had on them, no doubt there were more of them hidden. However his words only seemed to provoke the treasure hunters more, they struck to attack him but the crossbow went astray and hit you in the shoulder instead. It could’ve been a simple flesh wound or a small cut but even the tiniest amount of blood from you sent him off. The area started dropping in temperature, the floor stable floor below the men started to turn into ice and there was a still moment as a singular snowflake drifted down onto the floor. Once it hit the ground, there was a flash and  its delicate crystals were stained with blood. Kaeya stood over the last one with his sword raised to crash down on him till you came from nowhere to hold back his arm.

“Kaeya! Stop this!!” You begged him, looking at his side profile and trying to avoid looking at the bodies that surrounded the two of you. He couldn’t hear you, all he could hear was your scream when you got hit and had tunnel vision. 

“Please stop, you’re scaring me.” You sobbed softly, finally catching his eye. The darkness that clouded his eyes faltered as he put down his sword and embraced you. The man that was on the floor scrambled up to his feet, apologising profusely before running off with a terrified shriek. Kaeya could care less about what he did, he could only think about you now. He felt your shoulders shake from the fear or maybe from the sobs that escaped your body. His heart felt as though it dropped to his stomach, he hurt you. He scared you. When his hand came up to pat your head, you flinched away. It still sticks with him to this day, your tear stained face and eyes filled with fear because of what he was. He hated himself after that day, he felt as though he was back to square one. 

“It can lead you to dangerous things. You could disregard everything and everyone around you and ironically hurt the one you were trying to protect. But you can control all these negatives by simply talking about it with whoever you love. Never run away from it.” 

“Did the lady leave him after that?” Annette asked with tears in her eyes, not wanting to see such a tragic ending for the love story. 

“No she didn’t. When he ran away, she chased after him. She was really stubborn and cornered the poor man!” 

After the incident, Kaeya was put on a suspension from his job. The people of Mondstadt didn’t know any better, thinking it was him taking a small break from his work. Kaeya doesn’t know why Jean kept it a secret but decided to roll with it. He took his suspension as a time to withdraw from you, it was scary how quickly he became so attached to you. It was dangerous for the two of you so he decided himself to end whatever went on between the two of you. When you woke up the next day, you found out about Kaeya’s suspension and tried looking for him to talk things out. It was an impossible task since Kaeya seemed to become air whenever he saw you approaching or when you ask people about his location they all gave different answers. It annoys you to no end. He saves your life and then decides to remove himself from your life. Like hell you’d allow that. So you hatch a plan with Rosaria. 

It was a Thursday night and normally Kaeya would be holed up at work but with his suspension he decided to go to the angel’s share. Rosaria said she would be there in the back corner on the second floor, she told him that she would drink with him since it was boring to drink alone. He arrives earlier than Rosaria and decides to start drinking before she gets there, ordering a bottle of dandelion wine and slowly sipping on it. Minutes turn into hours and before he realises it’s closing time and he isn’t nearly as drunk as he would like to be. Rosaria was a no show and the tavern was completely empty. That’s when Kaeya realised he was caught in a trap, he had nowhere to run as you slowly approached him. You had a really angry look on your face. It was one look, he hates to admit, that scared him. You say nothing as you seat yourself across from Kaeya.

“F-fancy seeing you here (Y/N).” He offers with a meek smile.

“It really is an odd coincidence huh? It feels like it’s been a while since we talked.” You smile, but it isn’t reaching your eyes. That night you both talked about your feelings and cried with each other. Kaeya tells you things he never imagined telling you, about his self-hatred and how he feels as though he doesn’t belong. How the guilt eats him up everyday. You in return comfort him through it all, you might not have much to say back to him but that’s okay because just having someone listen to him was more than enough. Especially if it was you.

He was walking away from your doorstep after dropping you off home when he was stopped by you.

“No matter what happens Kaeya, don’t make my decisions for me! I’m a grownup and I told you all those years ago, WE will take these baby steps together.” You say seriously, holding his gaze with your fiery eyes. As he looked up at you, he felt his heartbeat pick up and a terrible realisation came down on him. Oh.

“I promise.” He was in love. 

“When you love someone Annette, it isn’t all black and white. You have to work to keep your relationship going, when something bad happens you talk about it, celebrate the small wins alongside the big ones. At moments you can feel lost in love, know you aren’t alone in this world. And once you find that special person, never let them go.” He pats the girl’s head as she brings her hand up to rub at her sleepy eyes. 

“Would there ever be a moment you would let go of love?” She asked innocently. As Kaeya opened his mouth to respond, the sound of the door opening interrupted the two of them.

The two look towards who came in and suddenly all the sleepiness in Annette’s body seems to leave her.

“Mommy!” She shouted excitedly, jumping into your open arms. You lift her up and spin her around as she giggles happily. Kaeya watched the exchange with fond eyes, standing up to walk towards them.

“So what did you do today?” You ask, it seems like an innocent question but Kaeya knows it's you checking to see if the two of you got up to any devious acts. 

“I learnt about love!” Annette says proudly, she holds her hands against her hips and proudly puffs her chest out. Kaeya laughs softly, as you turn to him with a curious gaze. 

“Oh really? Who taught you?” Diluc walks in behind you, laughing softly at Annette. Annette notices his arrival, reaching out for him to take her off of you. She laughs when Diluc tickles her sides as he adjusts his grip on her.

“Uncle Kaeya!” Her red hair bounces as she turns to point to Kaeya who was standing a few steps away from the family. 

She had her mother’s eyes and her father’s hair.

‘There can be a moment Annie. Sometimes there can be a moment when you realise another person can make them happier than you ever could but I hope from the bottom of my heart that, you, my dearest niece will never experience that.’

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 3

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers / bug gets meta

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Mia.

Mia, Mia, Mia. 

Oh she was lovely. You’d been chatting with her on Baekhyun’s phone for the better part of an hour and for a moment you forgot all about the man who now laid with his head on the other end of the sofa with his feet stretched over your lap and a phone held up to his face.

He was scrolling through something, giggling and typing. 

The phone you had down in your lap vibrated with another incoming message. 

Laughing emojis, a row of them. She was sharp. Wit and charm came through in her messages and you found yourself responding with an equally long string of laughing faces. The ones with tears leaking out their eyes. She felt so damn familiar and comfortable the moment you got past the awkward introductions and you really started talking to her; the jokes were easy and the topics were something you knew enough about to fake your way though thanks to Baekhyun’s many passions and his absolute inability to shut up about them. He’d held you hostage with so many video games and anime episodes, you knew exactly what she was talking about now. You felt like a complete pseudo pro. A well-read scammer. A faker but a weirdly genuine one. 

You went back to her profile and dragged each of her pictures across the screen with the tip of your finger, switching between them all. She was pretty. She was smart. She was interesting to talk to. She was perfect. Just perfect. A steady warmth had seeped into your chest as you looked at her. It was welcome and actually felt nice at first; if not a little bit unexpected. But the longer you looked at her smile, the more intrusive that warmth felt. After too long, it was sticky and almost too warm. You struggled to breathe deeply. You were breathing normally, there was absolute nothing off about your breathing, but each breath you took suddenly failed to satiate. Why were your lungs suddenly missing oxygen? They were misbehaving without any reason to. You closed out her pictures and returned to the chat window. 

She was asking about the latest episode of an anime. Something that was in its final season. Something you were sure Baekhyun would also be watching soon if he hadn’t seen it already. You could feel her excitement in her words. Something epic must have happened.

“Baek did you watch Attack on Colossatron last night — the latest episode?”

“Not yet—no spoilers, I’ll kill you.” His response was quick and you responded in a similar fashion in text to Mia; without the death threats. You weren’t quite that comfortable with her yet. 

Baekhyun shifted and moved a foot behind you, digging it under your butt into the gap of the couch cushion. You ignored the intrusion because you were talking to Mia. His soon to be brand new girlfriend by the looks of the conversation. You caught what you were certain was subtle flirting just below the contexts. Then outright flirting. She was sending you a picture from the dating profile you’d set up for Baekhyun. She had to have saved the picture to send it. It would now be saved on the camera roll of her phone where she would likely look at it again and again, admiring how good Baekhyun looked in it. 

She was commenting on how unexpectedly handsome you were and how most of the men who shared interests with her did not look like you. 

She was asking for a picture of you—err, of Baekhyun. She was having trouble believing such an attractive man like you was real and she actually used the word catfishing, careful to insist that she wasn't accusing you of anything; just that she was sure you looked just like some celebrity she saw on twitter and one couldn’t be too careful. 

But you were quick to cooperate and to agree with her need for assuredness. As a woman, yourself, you understood her suspicions instantly.  Yes, Baekhyun did look shockingly attractive in the profile pictures you posted of him. You could see how someone might doubt that he was real and he lived only 5 miles away and was now sweeping her off her feet with his engaging conversations and hilarious jokes. You’d be sure and make him thank you well for this later. 

The pictures of him were surprising, even to you, and you lived with the guy. You saw him every single day. Yet something about seeing him in these pictures, dressed in that black button up shirt and jeans and looking at the camera with a breathtaking natural smile; one he gave you so easily that night when you told him just how good he looked all dressed up. 

“Peanut, look at you! You look so fancy.” 

“Wow, I cant believe how handsome you are.” 

It only took a couple of sincere compliments for the man to unfold before you and the results on camera pulled you into an uncomfortable and unwelcome thoughtfulness when you looked at them alone later. Of course you knew he was handsome. You just hadn’t been prepared for how very attractive he would look on camera. 

You got all his best angles and the man had taken you off guard when you’d bravely asked him to give you a sexy look. 

It happened just at the end of your little makeshift photo-shoot. You were both a little tired, you could tell with the way he slowed down with his talking and his movements. You could always tell when Baekhyun was tired. Sometimes before even he knew it. 

The sun had gone down and you’d pulled him from your room into the living room where the lights from the city shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, creating a soft glow on his face. The moon was full outside. It was a chilly winter night and snowflakes drifted down to the street below. You were feeling perhaps a bit romantic. Perhaps you were a little bit grateful to be inside and warm and spending your time capturing the pretty face of your annoying best friend. 

You’d gotten a bit bold with the pictures and he’d been behaving so well, not even complaining when you asked him to lay down on the floor so you could capture the beautiful city-scape in the background of the shot. He’d gone still while you set up; moving furniture and turning on a lamp in the corner for more lighting on his features — you wondered briefly if maybe he had fallen asleep. 

You laid down beside him holding your camera up in the right spot to get something nice. His eyes had closed up and his breathing was even and slow and when you’d softly called his name with your camera acting as a barrier in between your faces, you’d expected it to act as more of a buffer than it did. 

“Baekhyun?”

When he heard you call him, his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the sound of your voice; the shift in his eyes was stark and breathtaking and he blinked them closed and then very slowly he opened his eyes again for you. 

“Hmm?” His lips stayed closed when he hummed a response.

What exactly were you going for here? The mood was set. The lighting and the scenery were in place. Hell, even the position of him was set —him laying beside you on the floor in the middle of the night like this when everyone knew it was much too late to be entertaining any of this nonsense. The longer you looked at him the more shades of pink you saw in his cheeks. The pinkness matched his lips and the lighting made every bit of warm flush on his face tell such a romantic story. He looked so very warm and inviting. 

You took a shot and you said it. If the picture came out well, that would be rewarding enough. 

But, you didn't actually expect a real sexy look. Not really. You’d expected something silly, or something goofy or something with an awkward smile. Maybe it was the nighttime, or the way he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and just let it hang open with the clear smoothness of his chest visible, but when he pulled his chin down and ran a hand through his styled hair, bringing it down just a little bit; giving it a messy and tousled look, you had to grip the camera tighter to keep from doing something dumb like accidentally dropping it. You could not understand the flash of nervousness you felt run through you. 

He lifted a single eyebrow. You had called him and it was clear from the inactivity in the camera that you weren’t taking any pictures of him. 

“Hmm?” He repeated the hum that came from the back of his throat. His eyebrow danced and it was the only movement on his face.

You inhaled a breath and you did it.

“You look incredibly sexy right now.” 

Despite the camera, despite the props you’d placed around him just so, his eyes seemed to seek out yours with purpose; one hand on the floor was within touching distance and the other hand rested over his forehead from when he’d ran it through his hair, the tips of his fingers landed over one of his eyes and it was so perfect. You felt goosebumps all over your skin.  

The moment his eyes locked into yours you gripped the camera as if your life depended on it. When his lips slowly parted with a gentle exhale and the tip of his tongue appeared between his parted lips and slowly touched against the corner of his bottom lip a surge of heat rose up the back of your throat. 

“I do?” He said with his eyes on yours as if he was looking directly at you; as if the camera did not even exist. 

You hit the button and you heard the shutter click. 

You allowed yourself a moment to look at the picture Mia had sent you. Only a moment though because she was talking again. She was instructing you to send a new picture right now, with your left hand holding your right earlobe. It was the kind of specific sort of picture that would prove that you really did exist. 

“Peanut,” you reached down and tapped his leg three times quickly, “Peanut, our new girlfriend wants a picture of you right now with your,” you held up your hands in front of your face, figuring out which was the left one, “left hand holding your right earlobe.” You held up your left hand for him to see and he pulled the phone down from his face to look at you. After a second his opposite hand was raised and he gripped his earlobe with his fingertips. 

“Is that your left hand?” You raised your left hand higher and lifted your eyebrows as you shook your head once. You felt a sense of urgency in getting this picture to Mia as fast as possible to calm her doubts. 

“It’s my left. My left is your right, stupid. Why do I have to do this?” 

You snapped the picture close enough that it would look like a selfie and sent the image to Mia. She was satisfied enough to send an emoji with heart eyes and you could feel victory at your fingertips. You could hardly believe this was working. 

“She thought you weren’t real.” You said in between messages and Baekhyun’s leg was shaking behind your back. He’d been sitting still for too long here and the nervous energy was building, you could feel it trying to escape from his limbs. He probably needed to go for a run or something or you were in for a long and noisy night of singing or dancing or whatever other shenanigans he thought you needed to suffer though. He hummed a non-response to your answer, clearly so distracted by what was happening on his screen that he couldn’t be bothered to give you any more of his attention right now. 

Baekhyun was not so quietly giggling under his breath and you looked up caught by that very particular sound of it. Something felt familiar in the sound of that giggle; more, the intentions behind it. The particular sneakiness of it maybe made you look up and it took you another second of listening to the way he stifled himself, tried to control the sounds of his laughter before a realization dawned and recognition struck you on the head. 

Baekhyun couldn’t have been giggling, laughing, texting, having a grand ol’ time on his phone because you had his phone in your hands. You had been talking to Mia for a whole damn hour, who in the hell was Baekhyun talking to and was that your phone he was using? 

“Baekhyun who are you talking to on my phone?”

His stomach bounced with stifled laugher below his shirt and he was typing again. His eyes secured on the screen of your phone and not at all looking at you. 

“Baek, who is that. What are you doing?” It wasn’t that you didn't trust him with your private conversations. He knew more about you than probably any other human being on the planet. It wasn't the problem with him knowing it. The problem was with that laughter. The problem was with what Byun Baekhyun might do with all of the things he knew about you and with whoever the hell had the misfortune of texting you at the exact moment when he had your phone.

“Ben,” Baekhyun said after a long pause and you searched through your recent memory for a person who had that name. You’d matched with some guys last week but you were certain there was no one with that name. 

“Ben? Who the hell is Ben? I don't know a Ben” You were leaning now and Baekhyun bent his legs up as soon as you moved, blocking your lean with his knobby knees. You leaned on the other side of them and he moved them to block again. 

The maneuver brought out the panic in you. He was blocking you from your own phone. He was up to something and he was now blocking you from reaching for your phone and you had just nearly murdered him in the kitchen over cheese, did he really want to do this again? 

“Give me my phone. Baek, who the shit is Ben?”

“I don't know. Some guy named Ben. Said he was some lady’s nephew or cousin or something. He knew your number and he knew your name, and wow he is—”

Oh god. Your co-worker Susie had done it. The son-of-a-bitch had actually given your phone number out this time even though you had successfully, you’d thought, dodged their high pressure tactics to set you up with some eligible bachelor who would probably be 10 years too old for you, balding, with bad teeth, or bad habits, or would be obsessed with his car or his muscles or some sports team and you’d have to make nice small talk with someone who’s interests, frankly, bored you to death until you could politely let the man down. 

And now, what was Baekhyun telling him? What kinds of horrific lies was this little gremlin giggling about over there. You tilted and reached for him again and he moved his knees again. 

“Bug, how- how do you spell hemorrhoids? Hem—hem—er—roids, no that’s not right. Let me look it up. It’s important that I represent you well. A strong, intelligent woman who can talk about her hemorrhoids.” 

You leaped then, over the stupid knees you flew and you landed hard — seated across his belly and the pained grunt he let out was satisfying to hear. He doubled up in pain while simultaneously shoving your phone underneath himself into the softness of the couch cushions and you watched it disappear somewhere below his butt where he assumed you would not dare to reach. 

“Baekhyun,” you said in as calm a voice as you could pry from your lips. Your teeth gritted together as you spoke and much of the sweetness was lost in the delivery.

Your hands were feeling the softness of the cushions that he laid on. You followed an arm that went down and disappeared behind his back and your fingers traveled to the end where you felt no phone at all, only his empty hand that you pulled up. You did the same on the other side, moving to the other hand and bringing it back empty too. On his face he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile. 

“Peanut,” your next attempt at a compromise pulled his name out in a sweeter tone and his lips turned up into a mischievous grin with teeth bared and all. To your own ears though, you really laid it on thick. This was your darling Peanut. You let your whine come through and you pulled your lips into a pouty frown.

“Bug,” he said, mimicking your overly saccharine tone with a tiny lift of an eyebrow on his face and a fake frown that didn’t touch the rabid joy in his eyes.

“Give me back my phone,” you said and your hands dug into his ribs hard as he reached for your wrists and quickly grabbed to hold you still with both of his free hands before you could do any actual damage to him. 

You struggled against his strong hands, reaching with out-stretched fingers despite his hold on you for a few more tickles before he tightened the grip and you could not connect any more attacks. 

“Give me back my phone,” he giggled back, again mocking your ineffective attempts to overpower him. You simply couldn’t do it. He was much stronger than you were.  

The childishness of this brat! You closed your eyes up tight as you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath. You could feel close to the edge again. Close to losing control. How many murder attempts did you need to commit today? Maybe you needed to enroll in anger management classes. You tried to count to ten again but gave up halfway through to threaten him again. 

“I’m going to get mad, give me my phone.” The friendly tone you had forced was gone and you could hear the actual anger in your voice now. Any reasonable person would concede. Any normal human adult would laugh it off playfully, say ‘okay, okay, I was only kidding’ and hand the thing over. A normal person would even apologize for taking it in the first place. 

Baekhyun was not a normal person.

“Ohhh, I’m going to get mad,” you heard him say in that same mocking voice and no amount of calming breaths could touch it. You could count to ten thousand and still want to destroy him. You squirmed all over and pulled at your wrists that he held in his grip and his hold tightened the more you moved until you could only lean, you could only fight back with one thing. The more you fought him, the tighter his muscles constricted and it became evident that you simply could not win this way. Your hands were useless to you. Only your head was free. You’d have to use it to your advantage, but how? 

You could headbutt him; break his nose. Break your head. Make both of you take a trip to the hospital during a global pandemic. Catch the dreaded disease. Lose your sense of taste and smell and potentially infect someone vulnerable that you loved. 

He was like a cat. Only interested in playing with something until it was dead and then losing interest after he couldn’t torture it anymore. You couldn't simply play dead. He had you trapped and you needed that phone back. 

You could bite him. Break the skin. Mean business for real. Make him bleed and make him cry. Make him pay for all of it. Give him a nasty scar on his hand, or on his neck or on his chest, maybe rip off his earlobe like Tyson did to Holyfield. Send him to the hospital during a global pandemic. Go to prison for assault charges. Get a nasty infection from a prison tattoo. Die.

Your struggle for a plan made you go physically still and you looked at his face; into his eyes and in those eyes sat all the usual bullshit and toddler behavior that you usually saw when he had latched on to something to tease you with, something he could play with and have fun with at your expense. Something he could exploit. 

You could use your mouth. 

You could use your lips.

You could use your tongue. 

What is this? Some sort of trashy rom-com? Would you really stoop so low, so early in the story? Kiss him to distract him, become a walking, talking, kissing cliché and an unoriginal failure of a human being? Get scolded and told to leave his home. Become homeless during a global pandemic. Without high speed internet access, lose your easy breezy data entry job. Get hungry and get cold. Possibly end up selling a kidney on the black market to make ends meet. Get a nasty infection from the shady surgery. Die. 

No. This wasn’t a cheesy romance story. This was your life. You’d have to live with the consequences of your choices and there was no way you would steal his first kiss just to get petty revenge.

This wasn’t enemies-to-lovers, this a violent revenge plot and you were pissed off god-dammit. How dare this idiot get you into such a compromising, such an undignified, such a frustratingly suggestive position and hold you captive like this. 

How dare he still be smiling through your entire inner monologue?

Didn't he know anything at all about women and the powers they possessed in their bodies? 

He flinched visibly when you dropped down; lowered your chest to his chest and you were face to face with the man. Your quick movement startled him and he loosened the grip around your wrists enough for you to rotate them before he tightened his hold again and watched you with wide eyes. That grin finally, finally fell from his mouth. His lips sat down-turned and pink. He’d gone positively pink with your quick movement. Your plan to move into him instead of struggling to get away clearly startled him. You felt the advantage at once. 

When you moved again it was only your eyeballs and it was to look pointedly at his lips before you pulled your eyes back up to look into his eyes. The slow movement made a bold statement, even to someone as clueless as he was. You were on top of him. He could most definitely feel the entirety of your weight on his body and your breasts were flush against his chest. And now, you had just looked down at his pink lips. 

Whatever steady and in-control breathing he had, stuttered and his body below yours went rigid with his eyes wide; obviously unsure of what you were about to do and much too on edge to take his eyes off of you. 

What became clear as you stared at his flushed face up close was that he had not thought this far ahead in his plan.

He probably didn't even have one to begin with. 

You moved closer to him and his hands released their hold on you again. You heard a gasp for air when his hand let go. You weren’t convinced he let go on purpose. There seemed to be a disconnected look inside his eyes right now. 

Instead of going straight for his earlobe and squeezing the shit out of it to teach him a lesson, you kept this going. You could not help it. You felt drunk on your own power and you didn't actually want to hurt him. You just wanted the damn phone so you could see what damage he had already done and begin cleaning up the messes. 

He swallowed and his lips opened to speak.

“W-What are you doing?” 

Nervous and trembling and uncertain; oh he was all of the above. Your free hand was moving now, traveling down the length of his arm to his flank when he moved again, this move felt much more frantic than the last. He grabbed your wrist more gently than before when you got close enough to touch him and he pulled your hand back. A feeble attempt it seemed, made by a man who had just come to his senses again after being in a daze. 

You leaned in. “Peanut,” you said directly into the space below his ear. You could smell him here. He smelled nice. Clean, and vaguely familiar. You remembered your shampoo that he still had and made a mental note to get it back from him. The scent of it on him was different than on you. The breath you took at his neck definitely smelled different. 

He was frozen stiff and when you pulled up to look at his face, his eyes were closed. He swallowed again and you reveled in the realization that you had not heard a single peep out of him since you began your counter-attack. Not a giggle, not a mocking laugh. Not a silly impression of what your voice sounded like to him. He was as quiet as a mouse. It paid to be pro-active. You felt free, as if you’d just been armed with some new very effective weapon that you had no idea would work so well. 

He had your hand again and was pulling — keeping you from reaching below his body to reach where you were certain your phone was stashed. Right here below his left butt cheek. Maybe even inside his back pocket. Either way it was there and you were centimeters away from it. 

So you went in again. This time it was a whisper. This time you went too far. You felt the softness of his neck brush against your bottom lip.

“Give it to me, while I am still being nice.” 

It was the exhale from your lips after you spoke that seemed to do it. The puff of air from your parted lips that drifted over his ear and warmed his neck, you felt him squirm below you and his hands moved releasing you all over and all at once. 

He was going now. He was leaving. You felt it happening below you. 

It was a tactic you’d used before when he tried to grab a hold of you and throw you onto your bed, or when he tried to wrestle something away from you in the kitchen. 

He went boneless. When you did it he would shout and laugh and lose his grip on you and you’d use the distraction to drop to the floor and roll out of his grip in one motion. It was much more difficult for him to do right now, being directly under you on the couch like this, but somehow he was vanishing fast. 

He moved so quickly it was like he melted from beneath you and he was pushing you off at the same time as he rolled, simply rolled from the sofa down onto the floor below in a single motion of retreat. 

You know that was where he went because you heard the rough thump of his body hitting the floor hard and you heard the grunt as he vocalized the pain of gravity having it’s final say. You were pushed with a force that made you roll onto your butt and below your legs you felt the rectangle of plastic and glass of your cell phone. 

He was moving fast. But he was also talking as he did it. 

“You are mean,” was what he said and he was halfway through the living room by the time you registered his complaint. 

Something about his fit irked you though. Was it such a big deal — so out of the question? Did he hate the idea of you kissing him, even if on accident that he had to overreact like this. 

“Oh settle down, It’s not like I was going to actually kiss you, Baekhyun.”

You’d expected to hear his bedroom door slam shut but he’d stopped with his hand on his door and turned his face in your direction. His expression was odd. 

Baekhyun was rarely upset with you, so you had very little experience with what he looked like when he was. He had been upset with others around you, but it wasn’t ever directed at you.

“I know you weren’t.” 

You could see it from where you sat and it made you stand up. Wait, was he really upset? At you? Because you pretended like you were going to steal his first kiss? Because you took something so precious to him and weaponized it against him? 

He was breathing hard and you took a step in his direction. 

“Baek, I was just—” 

“—trying to get your phone, I know.” His voice was cold and his words were short.

You suddenly felt like absolute shit. It moved fast and it overwhelmed you. You’d made a mistake and Baekhyun was upset at you. You’d acted carelessly and thoughtlessly and you’d hurt him. 

“We...we were playing around, I was just playing around, I didn’t mean it, Peanut. I’m sorry.” You could not help the thickness in your voice. You could not help how your voice cracked as you spoke up quickly, needing to get the apology out into the air before he could misunderstand any further. 

Before he could wake up and realize how low of a person you could be when you really set your mind to it. Before he could understand that maybe you didn't deserve so many chances to get your life together and get a better job, or be a better roommate, or make more money and pay more rent, or delete your facebook, or create better passwords. 

You realized you were crying when the wetness dripped down your chin and landed on your arm and as soon as you noticed you lifted both of your hands up to cover your face — before he saw, before he noticed or heard. You held your breath to keep from hiccupping or making any sort of sound at all and you closed your eyes and tried to stop the quiet gasps. 

You succeeded for the most part. 

It was the smell of him though. You did not notice that he moved, but you smelled him again, only this time it came with a warmth that enveloped you where you stood.  

“I’m not mad at you,” he whispered over your head and you inhaled through the snot that filled your nose, unable to get any air through. You gasped through your mouth instead and hiccupped through the breath. 

“You seemed mad at me,” you said into his shirt, the same shirt you’d cried into hours ago. This shirt would have so much of your messes on it by the end of the day. What in the world had gotten into you today? Maybe you were going to start your period soon. This was getting ridiculous. 

His hands rubbed slow and steady circles over your back and until the gasping stopped enough for you to lift your head and look into his face. 

“I’m not,” he said with more conviction the second time and you almost believed it. Had it not been for the strange way his eyes dropped yours so easily you would have. 

You didn't say that though. 

His lips parted once and his eyes grasped yours in that flimsy way again and his lips closed up again as he swallowed it away and didn’t say what he was about to say. 

You shook your head. He had to tell you. Whatever it was, you could work on it, do some self reflecting, or read some self help books. 

“What is it? Tell me.” Your insistence was desperate and his damn eyes refused to stick. It was making you crazy the more you noticed it. 

His mouth opened again and this time he inhaled deep enough to speak for hours and hours. 

“Peanut, what?” 

“Don't—” he began and you closed your mouth and looked into his face, dipping to catch them when his eyes dropped again and again. He noticed the dance you did and you saw the light dance inside his eyes. 

“Don't what? I’ll do it. Or I won’t do it. Whatever, just tell me.” If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to this man. You could always pull it out. Whatever he had been sitting on, keeping from you, whatever he had deep down inside that was begging to be let out. You could talk to him. He could talk to you. It’s as part of the magic you shared with him. 

“Peanut,” you said again, refusing to let him close up again, refusing to let this go. He had to say his piece for the upset to move behind you both, so you could get past it. 

“Don't use your beauty as a weapon against me.” 

As soon as the words left so did his eyes, but that did not matter because you could not look into his face anymore after he said it either. 

Your…beauty?

Baekhyun didn’t look at you and see beauty. Impossible. You were a mess. Some days you showered. Some days you did your hair. These two events rarely happened on the same day. 

Outside you could pull off some-what put-together and even downright attractive when you wore the miracle bust enhancing bra you bought off some shady website he definitely told you not to enter any credit card info into, but inside you felt like a circus clown wearing a respectable young woman suit. Every day you worked to stuff the oversized shoes into your feet and struggled to zip them up. Every day you painted over your honking red nose with concealer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rain today and give you away. 

“It’s really shitty and really unfair to do to me.” He kept talking and you felt like maybe the ceiling had caved in on you. “I know who I am. I know my place and I know what league I am in.”

He said the word league with a whisper and you stared at his mouth as he spoke such nonsense words you hardly had any thoughts that made any sense inside of your own head. 

League? He was such an amazing person, but league? You’d heard some serious bullshit come out of his mouth in the past, but this? Seriously? 

He was a genius. He was beautiful inside and out and he was such a good person, a good person to you, a good person to his grandmother, a good person to his online friends. He was so good at whatever he wanted to do and he was really fucking sweet when he wasn’t being ridiculous. And even when he was being ridiculous it was so funny you usually didn't mind the ear deafening noise involved. He was a great dancer and an even better singer and he had so much to offer. 

He was shy. He was terribly embarrassed and debilitatingly nervous at the mere idea of talking to any other girl that wasn’t you and he took a whole lot of warming up to until he opened up to you even, but when he finally did, after tiptoeing around him for 4 months after you’d moved in and he finally grabbed a bowl of popcorn and sat beside you on the couch to watch lifetime movies with you, making fun of the writing and the acting the entire time until he was making fun of you for crying at the happy ending. 

He was reliable too. He refused to even entertain the idea of you moving out just because you could no longer afford the previously agreed upon rent after you lost your job. He searched for something to hold you over until you could get back on your feet and while the data entry thing was mind numbing, it was genuinely saving your life most days. You could at least pay your bills. You could at least force him to accept the much lower rent you started paying him again after you got your first paycheck. 

Oh god. League? 

You could feel it building again. The burning in your eyes peaked and you felt your face frowning down dramatically and the tears were flowing more freely than before. 

“You’re such an idiot.” You cried openly and his face changed at once into one of extreme concern. His hands waved over you uselessly, occasionally connecting to pat over your back in some attempt to stop this. 

“You are such a catch, you stupid idiot!” You were wailing very loudly. You could not help it. He was such an idiot. And he was such a catch. 

“Oh my god, are you yelling at me right now? After everything you’ve done to me today, now you are yelling at me and calling me names. Great. Just Great. Here, my face doesn’t hurt, why don't you punch me in the face too.” 

The sarcasm made you half laugh half choke in the middle of a particularly strong sob and you coughed with your mouth open to be able to breathe. Your nose was still useless. 

“Jesus,” he said to himself, “my mouth was open.” 

You were being steered. Your eyes were still closed and you were pushed now. You didn't really want to move but your stubborn legs saved you by taking a step instead of letting you fall flat on your face. You opened your eyes when you felt a fresh cold breeze against the wet surface of your cheeks and you saw in front of you the contents of the freezer. 

There were some frozen veggies. Some ice in a bin. Something meat-like in a freezer bag. And about six different boxes of various ice creams. Most of them chocolate. 

“Get one,” he said and his hand was pushing your elbow up and steering your hand toward the open box of chocolate popsicles. 

You grabbed with your open hand and he pulled your elbow back like you were a claw machine and he was working the lever. 

You grasped the popsicle between both of your hands with a small smile building against your will. 

“Eat it,” he said from behind your head and you were already ripping at the plastic wrapper. You didn’t even have a chance to throw away the wrapper when his hand was pushing at your elbow again. It bent upward and the chocolate plopped right into your open mouth. 

“Bite,” he said. 

You bit. He didn't have to tell you to chew and swallow. You knew how to do the rest. 

After the ice cream you were seated on the sofa next to him and he pulled out a portable game system to keep him entertained while he pressed play on the movie he’d put on the big tv on the wall. 

It was Bridget Jones's Diary. You had seen it enough times to know the entire movie by heart and still, still you laughed at every joke, swooned at every steamy look, and squealed like a piglet at every kiss scene. It literally did not get old. You could fall asleep and wake up watching this movie for the rest of your life and be as happy as ever. 

After he’d felt you’d been babied enough for him to trust you not to dissolve into a fit of disaster without him, he left you alone to finish your movie. He said something about a bug he was working on fixing and you could hear him working from behind his closed door in his room. 

He had been quiet as he worked. He usually was, save for the occasional song he sang along to, or work sounding phone call he took. 

The credits were rolling on your happy ending and you could feel the beginnings of the first few period cramps twinging inside of your abdomen. 

Everything made sense now, as it usually did whenever your period began. 

You’d just stood to head toward the kitchen for some pain medicine when Baekhyun’s bedroom door was abruptly pulled open.  

He bolted through the doorway and his phone was in his hands, his eyes were wide. Panic was written all over his face as he searched the room for you and finally made eye contact with you in the kitchen. 

You had a bottle of pain reliever in one hand and another popsicle in your other and you were trying to figure out the logistics of getting the bottle of medicine open without having to put the sticky melty treat down anywhere and things weren’t going so well. Things were getting drippy. 

Baekhyun arrived then and you beamed a wide and genuinely happy to see him smile. He would help you. He would open the pills. He would stuff you full of them to stop the pain. 

At this point you didn't even care how many. You’d take however many the Gods decided to shake free from their plastic prison. 

“Help,” he said, walking by the medicine you held out to him with his phone displayed in his hands. “Help me, she...our girlfriend, Maya, she—”

You gasped at his mispronunciation and you lifted your popsicle hand toward his face as you made the sounds with your mouth, “Mia. Like Mee-uh.”

“Mia, Maya, Moira, She is — she is talking to me.” His eyes were wide and they were crazed. 

“She’s saying things and she’s really fucking smart and clever and she’s saying things to me, Bug. She’s, oh god, -the fuck didn't you tell me she was cute. Fuck. You have to help me. She thinks I’m cute too. Oh God. What do I do? What’s next?”

He was breathless when he was done and both of your hands were still full. Your popsicle was beginning to drip down your wrist. You would have to clean it up before you got ants. You still had some medicine to take too. 

He was pacing. He thought she was cute too, it wasn’t just you who thought so. He said it himself. Although he reacted this way with nearly every girl you had seen him interact with. Hell, just last week he made you answer the door for the delivery chicken because the girl was cute and he wasn’t about to scribble his signature all over her hand by accident. 

“Baekhyun, I already laid the groundwork for you.” Maybe the day was finally catching up to you but you felt suddenly very tired and in no mood to play make-believe with him right now. 

“What does that mean?” His face betrayed his utter cluelessness and you sighed deeply, feeling much of the same melancholy mood return to you despite the chocolate and your favorite movie still fresh on your tongue. “What does that mean? I don't know what to do. You were going to help me.” 

He was right. You shouldn’t just abandon a friend in need like you’d abandoned the popsicle in the trash can just now. 

“You have a new episode of your show to watch. She also likes that show. Why don't you stream it together?” 

His eyes lit up and his smile was wide and beautiful. Then he was spinning on his heels without even so much as a glance back. He typed into his phone and had nearly reached the door of his bedroom without even acknowledging your help when at the last minute you caught the look he shot you. It was a bright smile. He was excited and his smile reached his eyes. 

“She said yes,” he said, “thanks, Bug.”

His door closed and you reached for the bottle of pills. Grabbing just two today, you downed them quickly and retreated to your room with a gloomy, lonely, little storm cloud floating stubbornly over your head. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff​​  @byunbabybaek​​  @beg0neth0t420

[toxicanonymity]

imagine joel showing u off to his friends like “look at her, can u believe these titties and this fat ass?” and just groping u and pulling up ur shirt and objectifying u like ur just his little toy as his friends watch like its nothing and they’re agreeing with him.

if this is too far i understand 💀

Ugh, I just love horny!Joel. . . I simp. ❤️‍🔥

Speakeasy Teddy

500 | horny!Joel x reader | master list

Warnings: NSFW, consensual objectification, groping, in public

The whole smuggling trip, Joel couldn't stop thinking about you in those fishnets, so he picked up some lingerie from the abandoned mall on his way home.  He asked you to wear a black lace teddy out tonight which you were more than happy to do under a skirt and jacket.  Now, once again, he's all over you at the QZ speakeasy while the guys drink and play darts. The guys are ordering drinks and you and Joel are at a booth in full view.  He pulls you into his lap straddling him.  You fucked less than an hour ago -- as soon as he saw you in this outfit  -- but he's hard as a rock and can hardly contain himself.  His hands slide under your skirt and he kneads your ass cheeks as he grinds you into the thick rod in his jeans. 

"You dunno how much I missed these titties," he says and slips his hands into your jacket, running his fingers over your bare shoulders.  Your arms go limp as he slides the jacket off you, then he puts it aside.  Now the whole bar can see the black lace.  His large hand between your shoulder blades braces you while he aggressively gropes one of your tits and wets his lips.  The lace leaves little to the imagination when your nipples harden obscenely. “Mmm,” he says, then kisses the swell of your breast through the garment.  You softly moan at the feeling of his  wet lips through the lace.  He pulls back to admire you and you’re turned all the way on by how desperate his eyes are as they slowly dance from your tits to your face and back.  His thick hard cock is nestled right where you throb for him.  

The guys walk by the booth on their way to the darts and Joel says "I'm gonna sit this one out, fellas," without taking his horny eyes off you.  His hands squeeze your ass again and pull you into his swollen package with a soft grunt.

They give him a hard time, then Joel says, "can you blame me?" 

He pulls your skirt up, exposing the cheeky bottom of the teddy and he says, "look at this ass."  He kneads your nearly bare ass, then lifts your round cheeks and watches them jiggle when he lets go. He gives it a light slap. "Turn around, baby."  You lower your feet to the floor, then he turns you around and pulls you back down on his lap, facing away from him.  Your face burns, you bite your lip and try not to look at them, but it turns you on.

Joel hooks his arms under yours and takes a tit in each hand.  "You seein' all this?"  He looks at them and raises his eyebrows.  

"Yeah, we're seein' it. . . "

"Would you be playin' darts?"

He turns you side-saddle and runs his hand up your inner thigh, under your skirt.  

"You're a lucky man," one of the guys says.  

"Luck's got nothin' to do with it," you say, and reach for the bulge in Joel's pants.

-

Continues here: under the table

See Also

Speakeasy (PDA/Semi-public sex)

Bartending at the Speakeasy

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime   @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Six / Frappe

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, kissing, pining lol. this is pretty fluffy before things become... decidedly unfluffy! oh Javi’s got dirty thoughts here too

A/N: HI! Thank you thank you @sanchosammy for the idea for this date :) and thank you to my pals for editing and reading for me!!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

iced beverage that has been shaken, blended or beaten. It is served cold, often with whipped cream and toppings.

Javier is not a man extremely accustomed to cold temperatures. Most of his life has been spent in Laredo, Texas, or Colombia, both places known for their heat. Snow is a luxury, something to get excited about. Meanwhile, in D.C., the slushy cold is all too common and annoying.

The falling snow enchants Javier. You’ve noticed this, watched the way his eyes glimmer as the dense flakes drift from the clouds to land on your head or jacket or his own hands. He brings his dark jacket sleeve close to his face to admire the unique little crystals, only to melt it with his warm breath seconds later. Javier is a stoic man, generally stone-faced and tense. The little wonder behind his eyes melts your heart.

You told him you loved him two days ago, when you sped away from that fancy bar Javier would never return to again. You meant it, you think. You look at the man and it makes your heart race, makes you melt just like a snowflake under his warmth. You love him.

You’ve always been quick to fall in love. It’s never taken long, but it’s never happened so quickly. You suppose the process was helped along by the many hours of close proximity. It reminds you of one term you’d studied so hard in Psych 101- the mere exposure effect. It’s a simple concept, one you’ve seen mirrored many times in your life and are now living: the more one is exposed to a certain stimulus (in this case, Javier), the more you like it. It’s that easy. Human beings love familiarity, and something about Javi simply feels like you’ve known him your whole life.

Javier leans against your windowsill, staring through the frosted glass. Your plants look shrunken, the cold radiating from the glass into their roots. You’ll have to change that pretty soon, but now you just admire him.

As always, his mustache is neatly trimmed. His hair is a little messy, slept in and wavy. He wears a t-shirt and jeans, slung low over his hips without a belt. You sit on your couch, curled into the corner with a blanket draped across your lap. Your head rests on the arm of the sofa as you watch him, watching the snow.

He turns and looks at you after a few moments. You smile and close your eyes, enjoying the warmth of your radiator and the blanket. He takes his turn to admire you, the way you watch him with such adoration. Between the snow and your love, he never wants to go back to Colombia. He doesn’t want to go back to the loneliness, to the endless beat downs his health and brain take from hours upon hours of work. He wants this, but this isn’t him. This isn’t who Javier Peña is, is it?

He’s a new man. He’s starting over, new job, new love life, he reminds himself. He comes and sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your temple. He can be whoever he wants, and what he wants most to become is the man you see in him. He wants to be something you love, something for you to be proud of. He wants to be better for you.

You lean against him, and he wraps both arms around you. His chest is warm and steady beneath your head, and you sigh and cuddle in closer. “Do you like the weather up here?” You ask him quietly, knowing the answer.

“I’m always hot,” he admits. “It’s nice to feel cooled down for once.”

Smiling at that, you pull your knees into your chest and fully relax against him. “I don’t want you to leave, Javi. I don’t want you to leave me.”

“We’ve got plenty of time, abejita,” he murmurs and nuzzles his face into your hair. “Three weeks or so left. Enjoy what we have now, right?”

You sigh. You’ve always been a planner, laying out the foreseeable future so that you can have something in mind, goals. Javier certainly threw a wrench in them- you didn’t expect to have someone to spend your time with, someone to be completely infatuated by. And you can’t plan what will happen when he goes back to Colombia. Will he want to put up with a long distance relationship? He’s told you about his past; he rarely went a week or less without fucking a prostitute or informant. He certainly wouldn’t want another problem on his schedule, making time for long-distance dates. And it’s a permanent job, isn’t it? He’s not coming back on a schedule. There’s too much in your head, too much fear, and it makes you bury your face into his chest. “What’s wrong?” He asks, stroking your back.

“I just… want you in my life.” You murmur, nudging your nose into his neck. “Whatever it’ll take.”

“We have time to figure that out,” he reminds you, and you sigh and give a soft nod. You just snuggle in closer and hope that his warmth and affection will take away your worries. “I do like the weather here,” he muses as he looks out at the frosty glass. “I never got snow growing up. Never in Colombia either. It’s a special thing.”

Lifting your head to look out the window, you pull the blanket tighter and rest your head on Javier’s shoulder. “I have an idea for what we can do tonight, since you like the cold.”

“Hit me.”

-

Balance is not an essential skill as a DEA agent, and therefore, Javier doesn’t have much of it. He wobbles nervously as he steps along, the blades of the ice skates holding up his feet.

“You got it,” you laugh, walking along as the blade covers press into the ground. “It’s just like wearing heels.”

“I don’t do that,” he reminds you with a frown, trying to make his way to the ice rink a few feet away.

Giggling at the way he stumbles along, you remove the guards and step onto the ice. The glide beneath your feet is familiar. You’re good on the ice, somewhat skilled at it. You do a little spin in a circle, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “Come on. You’ll be- no, stop,” you laugh as he tries to step on the ice with the guards on his skates. “Take those off.”

Javier balances against the edge of the rink as he removes them, leaving them on a pile of them nearby. He wobbles through the entrance of the rink, finally standing on the ice. His long legs knock together and quiver at the balance. “Good,” you smile at him. “Come skate to me.”

You’re a few yards away from him, and he continues to frown, trying to take a step forward- a rookie mistake- and slipping as he puts his skate down. He catches himself on the guard rail, cursing loudly.

It’s late at night; you’re the only ones on the outdoor rink. You’re not ashamed as your laugh rings out into the dark, the floodlights illuminating the sheet of ice. “Oh my God, you really are a beginner,” you laugh, pushing off and into a peaceful glide around the oblong shape.

“No shit,” he calls out to you, standing up straight again with both hands on the edge of the rink. “This isn’t exactly my wheelhouse.”

When you stop next to him, a cascade of snow flying out from beneath your blades, you take his hand in his. “Alright. One hand on me, one hand on the rink,” you tell him, daring to push forward just slowly enough for him to have time to react.

He pushes off, mimicking what he saw you do earlier, and the two of you glide along for a moment. “There we go, now push again, a little harder,” you tell him, and you both push along in sync, sending you floating across the ice. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m concentrating,” Javier grumbles. How the hell did you rope him into this? When you’d suggested something outdoors for tonight, he’d wholeheartedly agreed, eager to spend some time in the cold. This, however, a physical activity that doesn’t end with a gunshot or an orgasm, is not something he’s used to.

You kiss his cheek and his frown lightens, instead falling into a neutral expression of focus. His eyes stay on the ice, and you cup his chin in your hand to lift his head. “Look ahead, not down. You’ll keep tripping if you keep looking down.”

He nods at your orders, trying to focus on the boards around the rink as they approach. His legs remain shaky, but he’s doing well. “There you go,” you grin at him, letting go of his hand. With the other on the boards, he does a good job, and in hardly any time, you’ve made a full lap of the rink. You stop and he does his best to do so, though he nearly flies over. Smiling, you take his face in your hands and kiss him gently. “If you don’t like this, we can be done,” you remind him as you break away, keeping your face close to his.

Javier smiles softly at you, just enough to show the little dimple in his cheek. “I’m going to figure out how to do this if it kills me.”

“It might,” you tease, patting the ass he’s already fallen on several times. “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you laugh and Javier kisses you again, one hand steadying himself on the wooden boards.

Breaking away, he kisses the tip of your freezing nose before leaning back. “I learn best by watching. Why don’t you just… do a couple of laps?” He asks.

You nod and skate backwards away from him. “Sure.” You hug your jacket tight around your body as you glide across the ice, doing a few little twirls and loops. The breeze is cold, even on your legging-covered shins.

You’re graceful on the ice, the opposite of Javier. He gives a half-smile as he watches you, admiring your grace. Those damn leggings cup your ass, showing the curve and the way it moves. God, he’s always noticed you for your beauty, but this is something else.

The bulky winter coat covers your torso, but your expression is so peaceful and free as you move, your momentum pushing your hair back as wind seems to curl around you. You look astonishing. Javier wishes he brought his camera with to capture this.

“Did you tell me to do this just to stare at my ass?” You tease from across the rink, skating forwards and looking over your shoulder at him.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

You laugh and cut across the rink, no longer circling the perimeter but taking the quickest route to him. “Not in the slightest,” you laugh and kiss him again. His lips are addictive, making you crave his kisses more and more the longer you go in between them. “Okay, come on, hot-shot,” you say and take his hands, pulling him out onto the ice.

Dropping your hands, Javier’s arms stick out parallel to the ground, wobbling and trying to balance. He pushes a little, remembering your advice and looking up, and sighs as he lets himself slide across the ice, his feet unintentionally pointing in then out then in again. “Look at you!” You laugh proudly, skating next to his side.

When you’re next to him, Javier takes your hand and chuckles a little in amazement at the movement. It’s like riding in a car with the windows down, the air rushing past. Your hand feels warm, even despite the cold air, and it anchors him as he picks up speed and the two of you fall into a steady rhythm.

He even dares to try skating backwards at one point. He succeeds for a moment, earning an astonished laugh from you, but it ends as one would expect: on his ass. You help him up and kiss his cheek. “Want me to kiss it better?” you flirt, smiling jokingly at him.

“Mm, I’ll pass,” he shakes his head then kisses you on the lips, his hands finding your waist. The two of you stop in the middle of the rink, kissing slowly under the bright lights of the rink.

Javier leans in a little, desperate for more, but he rocks too far forward on his skates. “Fuck, fuck!” he shouts as he loses his balance and falls forward, taking you down with him as he falls onto his knees.

“Javi!” you squeal as you fall backwards, landing on your ass this time. “Goddamnit,” you laugh as you look at him, his palms pressed to the ice on either side of you in an attempt to break his fall but not to land on you. He hovers over your body, and you can’t stop giggling with the adrenaline of the moment.

Javier’s laughing too, a genuine laugh that puts lines in his face. Such genuine laughter is rare for such a serious man, and you feel warm inside with the honor that comes along with bringing that joy to him. “You know, I do, I think so.” He looks at you in confusion. “I really do love you, Javi,” you have no choice but to admit.

He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He can’t bring himself to say it back, even if he knows deep in his heart that he would mean it if he said it. He does love you, but there’s a lump in his throat that refuses to budge.

Just a second before the silence would become awkward, he brings his face to yours and kisses you, slowly. It’s sweet and longing and he forces his emotions through it, transmits them through his lips and into yours. I love you too, abejita. Really. I just… can’t say it.

It’s alright. You can tell from the way that he kisses you that this is his way of saying it back, that he feels the same flutter in his heart when your fingers lace through each others’, when he wraps his arms around you and his arms flex tight to pull you as close as he physically can.

You stay like that for a moment, kissing, Javier hovering over you on the ice. It doesn’t last too long before you break away. “Not to ruin the moment, but this is deep-freezing my ass,” you admit with a chuckle. You get up and help him up, and the two of you take one more lap around the rink before getting off the ice.

The drive home is filled with comfortable silence, Javier driving with one hand on your thigh. He knows his way to your place by now. You don’t even have to direct him. You park on the street then walk into your apartment with him, appreciating the warmth of the building.

The little nightly routine you’ve assumed works itself out. You both get into your pajamas, readying yourself for sleep. Javier’s spent two nights on the couch and he’s fully prepared for a third when you stop him in the doorway to the bathroom, a hand flat against his chest. “Sleep with me tonight, Javi. Please.”

He’s spent the entire night admiring your ass. If you sleep in the same bed, he won’t be able to take it any longer. He shakes his head. “It’s for the best that I sleep on the couch, bee.”

The words make you frown, but the nickname makes your heart tingle. He translates it from abejita to little bee when he’s lazy, and shortens it from little bee to just bee when he’s tired. Well, you suppose you’ve worn him out tonight with the ice skating. “Please,” you beg of him, fingers finding their way to the muscle protecting his heart. “Can we at least snuggle?”

Javier sighs but gives you a tired little smile. “How can I say no to that?”

You find your way to the couch together. It starts with you both sitting up, your head resting against Javier’s shoulder as you watch the late show on the TV. As you both grow more tired, Javier begins to slump to the side, and you follow him down, fully leaning against him. Then more and more until Javier lies down on his back and pulls you on top of him.

“Mm. You’re comfy,” you hum as you lie on him, head in the curve of his neck. His skin radiates warmth, and he pulls the blanket over the two of you, too sleepy to comment back. He just kisses your temple and watches the TV with half-open eyes.

A few minutes later, his breathing slows, and you can feel his breathing switch from his nose to his mouth, his warm breath on the top of your head. He’s fallen asleep. You smile as you nuzzle in closer. The couch isn’t ideal, but you’ll take any chance you can get to fall asleep with Javier.

The late show drones on in the background, then changes to infomercials that run the course of the night. Neither of you are awake to see it, too deep in a perfect sleep, nestled in each other’s arms, Javier using you as his blanket and you using him as your pillow.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles