#so he can stay wonky

[sleepybirbies]

borb

[dykedvonte]

Danse has to get homesick In Sanctuary. Like despite being uncertain of how much his past is real including times with the Brotherhood, those memories were home. The Brotherhood was home especially the Prydwen.

No matter all the comfort and the luxuries SoSu could put to make him feel more relaxed or like it’s his space it’s still not home. It’s so unique to him cause everyone else has a home in a sense. A thing or place they can come and go to as they please while Danse doesn’t. He can never go back to the people he considered family and they can never go to him without serious consequences. It doesn’t help that (due to his own faults and beliefs) a good majority of the new people in his life do not exactly like him.

It’s so isolating for him as the wasteland is also a different culture in general. Theres so much he’s not used to vs what he is. But all in all I think that’s a good thing. I feel as if Danse had a better arc in game it would 100% have him learning or developing a sense of home before a sense of self. I think it gets overlooked that Danse is a person that likes or feels like he needs to belong to something. A cause, a philosophy, a mission. He needs a goal. He must learn to live for himself and his purpose but it’s clear he wants to find that through something which is why he latches onto the Sole Survivor after rather than just wander the wastes. He needs something, anything to base a sense of self on at this point in time and who better than the person that opened their home to him in the first place.

He’s a dude that needs a foundation or home to ground himself on or else he doesn’t know what to do with himself or even start.

[sttoru]

tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’

“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.

toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.

“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.

“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.

you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.

this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.

you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”

your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.

toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.

the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.

“mamaaaaaa!”

as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.

toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.

you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.

“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.

toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.

“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.

you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.

toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.

it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;

“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[love-anddeepression]

Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

[boothillssugarmomma]

Screw Loose

(Boothill x Fem!Reader)

cw-: sickeningly sweet Boothill, limb detachment mentioned, hint of talk of powering down

🎀 authorsnote: Boothill is my baby and will always be my baby and I love him so fucking muchhhhh

please don't steal my work!

🎀 Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀Other Lists🎀

"Hey, darlin! Could you grab the screwdriver?" Boothill smirks as he walks into the living room. You nearly faint as your husband walks up to you...missing an arm!

"What?" Boothill gave a headtilt and a soft smile, "Look, my arm got stuck again ok?" He rolls his eyes and ruffles your hair with his good hand.

"Now stop gawkin' cutie and help me get it off there please?" Boothill motioned over to the cabinet ,where said arm was indeed just gripping onto the handle.

Boothill's arms and legs had the tendency to jam and malfunction, that's why he kept so many screwdrivers around the house. This was a normal thing for Boothill...but not for you.

"O-Of course...honey..." You whisper, your eyes are still glued on the arm as you slowly walk up to it and give it a tug.

The arm is stuck in place, not even budging and the door of the cabinet starts creaking from your tugging with all your might. Boothill watched on, amusement in his eyes.

"What part of 'jammed' do you not get, sweetpea?"

"...fine..." You sigh as you tug it harder, your face gets red as you pull as hard as you can.

The harder you pull, the more the cabinet creaks and Boothill finally rolls his eyes and walks up to you, smacking you away and pulling his arm away from the cabinet handle and shaking it violently.

"Just watch!" Boothill's arm made some clicking noise and just worked like brand new. Boothill flexed his fingers on his arm just to see if it worked and it in fact, did work and he smirked.

"Ain't that purdy?"

"Always my love..." You blink as your nose crinkles with disturbance.

Boothill chuckles, seeing your face of disturbance.

"Don't worry, baby. I ain't gonna fall to pieces on you, 'kay?" He walked over and kissed the top of your head.

"Seems like you already are my dear..." You poke his arm just to be sure it'll stay on.

Upon your poking, his arm gives a mechanical groan in protest from you poking at it and it just goes completely limp.

"Ah, my sweetpea." Boothill muttered the last part under his breath and he gave a scoffing laugh at his arm.

"What'd I tell you? I ain't broken down on you."

"Hmm..." You finally smile and lean up to kiss him.

Boothill kisses back, wrapping his own arm around your waist and holding you closer to him.

"See? I'm just a little wonky from time to time." Boothill gave a little chuckle, "The perks of being mechanical, huh?" His smirk widened at his last little statement.

"Perks is a funny way to put it..." You laughed softly before hugging into him.

Boothill smiled and held you close, placing his chin on the top of your head as you hugged into him.

"You gotta admit it, sweetpea. Not everything about being a bionic cowboy is bad." Boothill laughed softly, "I'm still me at the end of the day despite being mechanical like this. Nothin' changed 'xcept my flesh and organs are different than yours."

You glance up at him and sigh. "Boothill what am I going to do with you..."

He chuckled at your little comment and smiled, "Just hold onto me and hope I don't shut down one day." he teased slightly and ruffled your hair.

Boothill wasn't like many other men and you had to learn to live with that. A mechanical man was all he was. But Boothill was still the same man you fell in love with.

"Say...darling..." You whisper softly. "If you ever...were to shut down..." You trail off as your eyes begin to water.

"Don't even go there, sweetpea." Boothill muttered, pulling you even closer to him now and holding you close to him. He had his chin back on the top of your head as his arms were wrapped around you.

"Listen to me, baby." Boothyll whispered, "Ain't goin' down anytime soon." his drawl was firm and serious, meaning every word of what he said.

"Promise?" You swallow harshly and take sharp breaths against his metal chest.

"I promise, baby." Boothill whispered into your ear, "But...if I ever do go down, I don't want you to morn me long." he said quietly.

"I want you to carry on living for me."

Boothill was deadly serious, he didn't want you to have a moment where you'll just waste away in sadness for him.

"Stop it, don't say that!" You smack his arm softly. You both freeze as it starts to creak.

The arm slowly creaks before falling down to the ground , this time it was his left arm.

"Oh, honey." Boothill muttered, "Please don't break me anymore." he said in his low drawl, a teasing tone.

"I'm sorry!" You whine and rush off to find a screwdriver for your husband.

Boothilly just watches on amused as you run to find a screwdriver and you rush back to him with the screwdriver.

"Easy, sweetheart." Boothill laughs softly at your haste and he turns around so you can fix his arm.

"I didn't mean to..." You sigh as you carefully pick up his arm, a look of pure disgust crosses your face before fading into a neutral expression.

You could tell Boothill was holding back his own laugh at the expression you made, watching on as you carefully pick up his arm with the screwdriver.

"Just fix me up so we can get this over with." he muttered, still amused but was eager to get this over with.

You carefully begin to fix it with a puzzled look. "I don't know...how?"

You managed to start fixing his arm back on, but it'll take a while due to how complicated Boothill's arms and legs were.

"You just gotta turn the screw driver on the screw." Boothill told you, a bit of annoyance in his voice, "How far away are you from fixing this, darlin'?"

"I'm trying my love..." You assure him.

"I know, honey." Boothill muttered quietly and tried to sit still, "Just a little while longer." his voice drawled out. He could feel you working on his arm and he just prayed you wouldn't somehow mess it up.

"You're nearly at the finish line, baby."

"That's what she said." You smirk. The room goes quiet.

Boothill was speechless and completely flabbergasted at your boldness to finish his sentence and he just looked at you, mouth still slightly open before he burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, you little devil." he grinned, "Seems you're learning a few things from me, ain't ya?"

"Learned from the..." You trail off as you screw a screw on. "The best!" You smile as his arm starts to move again.

Boothill can feel his arm working again and he gives it a small flex, "See? Told you it's not that complicated." he grinned.

Boothill gives you a kiss on the cheek and pulls you close to him.

"You did a good job, sweetheart." he whispered into your ear, "Ain't you just a smart cookie."

You giggle softly at the chain of praise he whispers into your ear. Eyes shining with pure love and adoration.

Boothill could see the love in your eyes as he whispered praises to you and he just smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek before kissing your lips.

"I'm the luckiest cowboy, ain't I? Having you in my life, in my arms." he whispered to you, "I'd do anything for you, darling."

"R-Really?" You whisper softly as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Really." Boothill whispered back, smiling as he tucked that stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Ain't a day goes by where I ain't proud to say that you're my girl." he whispered quietly, giving a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"I love you..." You smile warmly up at him.

Boothill gives a genuine smile as he gently lifts your chin up with his hand, leaning down as his hand gently cups your face and he smiles down at you.

"I love you more." he whispered back to you, leaning down to kiss your lips gently.

"I love you most..." You giggle.

"You're such a little minx, yknow that?" Boothill whispered to you as he pulled you closer to him and held you close. He just held you close to him, smiling softly as he held you in his arms like you were his entire world...well technically...you are his entire world.

"But you love that~" You tease before leaning up to kiss his nose.

"True, true." Boothill chuckled and grinned down at you after you kissed his nose.

"You keep this up, I might malfunction with a love bug if you get any sweeter." He joked and grinned down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

🎀End🎀

[harrywavycurly]

I just know Lonely Harry is so nosey when it comes to what his fiancé and Niall talk about especially if it’s wedding related😂

Hiii babes!!! Oh you know he is sooooo nosey he can’t even help himself! The thing is he’s ALWAYS been kinda nosey when it comes to you and Niall and what the hell y’all two talk about and the weird things/trouble the two of you manage to get into you when together because you two are what Harry oh so lovingly calls the “dysfunctional duo” and have been ride or die besties just as long as you and Harry have!

So I’ll happily give you some little examples of Harry being nosey and also getting caught trying to be nosey when you’re with Niall talking about wedding stuff/ just hanging out😂💖

-find all things for the Lonely series here✨

A/N: Harry is a a naturally very nosey man but when he knows you’re in the house talking to Niall he can’t help himself, he just wants to know what the two of you are talking about and if it has anything to do with him👀✨

Example One: Dress Details

“You think it’s going to look weird with that much of it touching the ground? That’s not tacky looking or anything? I was thinking maybe getting it shortened just a smidge?” Niall shoots you a look that makes you let out a huff as you reach over to the coffee table and grab your glass of wine. “I just don’t want it to get all dirty and gross on the bottom from dancing and stuff.” You explain as you bring the glass to your lips so you can take a sip while Niall just rolls his eyes as he places his beer down on the table.

“You have a bloody reception dress ya knob so your actual gown won’t be gettin all dirty and shit because you’re wearing it for what? An hour at the max? Maybe two if you include the time it takes for photos?” Harry knows he shouldn’t be listening, he knows for a fact if you turn your head and see him just standing off to the side of the living room near the kitchen casually stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth that you’d probably let Niall jump over the back of the couch and tackle him to the ground and he’d deserve it.

He knows you don’t want him to know any details about your dress, but technically you two haven’t spilled any details about the dress minus the fact you don’t want to get the bottom of it dirty letting Harry know the dress is floor length but that was sort of a given because he knows you’d never wear anything above mid calf during the actual ceremony. He also was already let in on the fact you’d be changing into a different dress for the reception because you wanted a dress you felt more comfortable dancing in and one you’re not too worried about getting ruined if it gets wine or food spilled on it throughout the evening. While he might not know any details of what that dress looks like minus that it still fits the overall theme and vibe of the wedding as whole he can assume it’s not floor length because you’ve never been one to find those comfortable for dancing.

“Oh that’s right I forgot about that dress.” You laugh as Niall leans in closer to you so he can get a better look at the gown on your phone screen and Harry so badly wants to take a few steps further into the living room but he doesn’t, he just stays where he’s at and tries his hardest to be as quiet as possible in hopes of hearing something a little more juicy. “You think Harry will like that one thought? It’s a bit-”

“What I think is that Harry better get his lanky fuck of an ass out of this living room before I shove my foot up it.” Niall snaps before you can finish your sentence because unknown to you and to Harry he spotted your fiancé a few minutes ago and was waiting to see if he was going to leave on his own but when he saw him finish off his sandwich and stay exactly where he was instead of turning around and heading for his office or any other room in the house Niall decided he needed to step in.

“God you’re so violent for a man with wonky knees and a few inches left to grow before he’s even eye level with me.” You feel your eyes go wide when you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you.

“Harry Edward Styles.” Harry feels his cheeks get hot as he watches you turn so your arm is resting on the back of the couch, wine glass still in your hand as your back is leaning against the armrest so you can get a good look at him. “Have you been standing there the whole time Niall’s been here?” You ask as Niall turns so he can also look at Harry but while you are giving Harry a glare and a quirked brow Niall is simply trying to hold back a laugh because he knows Harry is about to be in trouble.

“Uh n-no no not the whole time.”

“Oh yeah that’s real believable mate.”

“Fuck off Ni-”

“Don’t tell me to fuck off when you’re the one being a right fucking creep listening to our conversation in the shadows over there you fucking weirdo.”

“It’s my house Niall I can’t be a creep in my own bloody house.”

“Clearly Harry you can because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Now run along and go do something productive like I don’t know? Audition for a movie or make another overpriced beach bag.”

“You are such a fucking ass-”

“Yeah yeah love you too now get lost.” Harry lets out a frustrated huff as he glares at the back of Niall’s head as he turns away from him so he can reach for his beer on the coffee table, Harry slowly turns his attention to you and his face instantly softens to a small smile that you can’t help but return as you meet his stare.

“I love you.” His voice is much softer as he stares at you and you know he wants to come closer so you just give him a small nod as you close your phone and place it in your lap face down.

“I love you too.” Harry smiles as he walks further into the living room so he’s standing behind the couch, you tilt your head back a little so you can look up at him. “But please go away.”

“Okay baby I’ll go away.” He tells you as he leans down so he can place a kiss to your lips, you smile when he pulls away and you get comfortable on the couch while Niall finishes off his beer. Harry is about to turn to head towards the stairs but before he does he quickly reaches over a smacks the back of Niall’s head making him let out a squeal of surprise as a hand comes up to rub at the spot Harry just hit.

“Treat people with kindness my fucking ass you twat.”

“You started it you wank my beach bags aren’t overpriced.”

Example two: Beer Pong ft. A jealous Harry👀

Harry hears laughing coming from the kitchen as soon as he opens the door to his office and steps into the hallway, he knows you invited Niall over for lunch but that was over three hours ago so there’s honestly no telling what exactly the two of you have gotten up to in the time he’s been tucked away upstairs for a few work meetings. He quietly makes his way downstairs and runs a hand through his hair as he comes to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile creeps its way onto his face when he sees you lean your head back and laugh at something Niall has said that’s also caused him to erupt in that loud obnoxious laugh of his. Now Harry has always felt secure in his relationship with you, even from the very beginning when he fought the Irishman currently sitting at his kitchen table for the title of your bestfriend all those years ago Harry has always knows where he’s stood with you but that’s never stopped him from sometimes feeling a certain tiny twinge of jealousy when he sees the two of you together because he knows your friendship with Niall is completely different than your friendship with him ever was.

You and Niall have secrets and little jokes only the two of you find funny, granted you and Harry also have secrets and inside jokes that no one else has the privilege of being privy to but Harry for some odd reason assumed when he became your fiancé that all the secrets you and Niall shared he would get the inside scoop on, but he was wrong. He knows it’s silly to get so worked up over your friendship with Niall, hell Harry is the reason you even know Niall so he can’t exactly be mad at how close the two of you are because he was there the day you met and he saw it first hand just how quickly the two of you seemed to click and form a bond. Deep down Harry is grateful for your friendship with his bandmate because Niall has been there for you at times when he couldn’t be due to distance because of a work thing or when Harry was too stubborn and lost in his own feelings to see the error of his ways when he’d done or said something he shouldn’t have so you having a few secrets and private jokes with him shouldn’t be a big deal but Harry just can’t seem to let it go sometimes and today is one of those times.

Despite Harry knowing that Niall is just your bestfriend, Harry is the one marrying you in a few months for goodness sake, he can’t help but glare at the side of Niall’s face when the little tiny voice inside his head begins to question what it is that Niall has said that could possible make you laugh so hard you have to reach over and grab his arm and give it a squeeze like that? Harry crosses his arms over his chest as he decides to watch the two of you from the doorway for a few moments longer, your back is to him so he doesn’t have to worry to much about you seeing him.

“I swear I’ve never seen her look so pissed.” Niall says between laughs making you shake your head as you try to catch your breath.

“That’s because she wasn’t expecting you to just say you thought her dress was hideous Niall.” Your voice is playful as your hand that’s on his arm falls back down to the table while Niall just rolls his eyes in response to your words. “It’s rude.” You add and Harry knows you’re giving your bestfriend a glare as you stare at him making him shrug.

“No asking me my opinion on a god awful dress when I’m three whiskey shots in and working on my second pint of Guinness is what’s rude.” That makes you reach over and give him a light smack upside the head resulting him reaching over to you and flicking you in the elbow. “Don’t start with me. You know you can’t beat me. At anything really. Remember the time you tried to come golfing with me? What a disaster that was.” He threatens in a non-serious tone when he sees you about to reach over and smack him again. Harry knows by the way you tilt your head to the side that you’re glaring at him but Niall just ignores it.

“Can’t beat you? Please I’ve actually done it before and one handed might I add or do you not remember?” This makes Harry raise an eyebrow because he has honestly no clue what you’re talking about but clearly Niall does because he watches as a smirk forms on his face and his eyes squint into a hard glare.

“Really now? You wanna talk about that night huh? Well let’s not forget who had to be carried home by that same man you claim to have beat one handed.”

“I did not have to be carried home you are so dramatic.”

“Me? Dramatic? Says the one who cried when I told her I didn’t have any coffee in my flat that one morning after-”

“Oh fuck right off that doesn’t even count as being dramatic because you’ve cried over food as well and I was violently hungover and all I wanted was coffee and who the hell has two coffee makers but no coffee?” Harry’s eyes are wide as he tries to make sense of the conversation he’s hearing the two of you have, he doesn’t know when you ever got so drunk with Niall he had to carry you home and he also doesn’t remember when you ever opted to stay at Niall’s apartment over staying with Harry so he’s not sure when the crying over the lack of coffee happened and it makes him feel extremely out of the loop and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Also I didn’t claim to beat you one handed Niall Horan I did beat you one handed.” You add as you reach over and grab a chip off Niall’s plate that looks like it’s leftover from the lunch to two of you shared hours ago.

“Beer pong isn’t my strong suit so it’s not that big of an achievement saying you’ve beat me at it.” Harry begins to flip through memories to see if he can try to get a better idea of when you and Niall were at a party and played beer pong together and it’s then that it hits him, this is all the way back when you were still in college and Niall used to go with you to a few frat parties because Harry didn’t like causing a scene when he’d try to go with you but Niall was able to blend in just a bit easier than him.

“Don’t be an ass.” Harry smiles as you not so gently punch Niall in his shoulder making him let out a groan as he rubs at the spot you just hit. “A win is a win.” You state with a huff as you steal another chip off Niall’s plate.

“Whatever you say bestie.” The tone is teasing as Niall looks away from you and suddenly Harry feels his body go stiff when he’s met with a pair of blue eyes staring into his green ones. “Hello there Harold how’s it goin? Your fiancé here is in a violent mood so I’d watch out if I were you.” Harry rolls his eyes as he takes a small step into the kitchen as you turn to look at Harry over your shoulder.

“I’m sure you deserved it.” You smile at Harry’s words as you turn to look back at Niall who just rolls his eyes making you stick your tongue out at him.

“Really? You’re so mature.” You just laugh as Niall gets up from his seat at the table. “I gotta head out but call me tomorrow and we can go over more Miami stuff because I’ve gotta book everything soon and if you don’t make up your mind about the boat then I’m gonna just make a decision for you and we both know which option I’m gonna pick.” He gives you a knowing look before he quickly leans over and places a super innocent kiss to your cheek that makes Harrys jaw clench.

“Okay I will call you with my decision by lunch time tomorrow.” You inform him and he just nods before he turns and heads towards the front door. “Love you!” You shout over your shoulder and you just smile when you hear Niall laughing as he shouts it back to you making Harry roll his eyes as he stands behind your chair.

“You’ve been down here with him all afternoon?” Harry asks as he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head as his hands rest on your shoulders.

“Harry.” Your voice is soft but stern and it’s an odd mixture that has Harry suddenly glad he can’t see your face because he’s sure you’d be giving him a look that tells him you know exactly how he’s feeling right now. “You don’t need to be jealous of Niall.” Is all you say as you reach a hand up and place it over his that’s on your shoulder and give it a little pat before you turn your head so you can look up at him. “You know that right?” You ask with a raised brow and Harry lets out a heavy sigh as he leans down to place a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“I know. I just can’t help it sometimes-know m’a bit obsessed with you and don’t like to share.”

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller — Part Two

SUMMARY: another day, another visit to joel’s little coffee shop. he’s as miserable as ever, and you’re probably the only person brave enough to want to spend time with joel outside of his work.

PAIRING: no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.5k , i’m afraid this is v. short. </3

WARNINGS: fluff. angst. our luke danes-y joel is having a hard time trying to mentally confront his feelings. you’re just as annoying and oblivious to it all as always. mentions of food consumption. reader refers to her parents verrrrrry brief. mentions of reader’s hair blowing into her face, but otherwise nothing to note.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Joel’s back is flush to the counter when you amble through the door this morning, hair strewn across your face, strands set into sticky peach gloss. A few strong gusts of wind—and a stupid confidence in your locks to stay in place—has led you into this precarious position.

Typical. On a morning where you’d like to feel good about yourself, you’re suddenly left feeling like hot garbage.

“Coffee. Now.” Guttural and bone-tired, you hurl at him. But he doesn’t move. His eyes affixed to the chalkboard above the strategically placed syrup station, arms folded over. You’re lucky if he’s even heard you for his attention is wholly deployed to the new menu that he’s spent the better part of thirty minutes creating.

You trudge—cold and dishevelled—through the cafe, feeling eyes on your back. The woman whose face, outfit, and attitude is always put together, is currently struggling through her morning no thanks to the glorious October weather. And the fact that last night’s date went to absolute shit is no help to you today, either.

“Joel.” Exhausted from the day already—despite it barely pushing eight twenty—you squeak. He grunts in response, pointing to the coffee pot that’d just finished brewing as he awaited your inevitable appearance at his door.

Still, he doesn’t move. So you take it upon yourself to shift from one side of the counter, to the other—dropping your purse on it as you do so. It’s weird, being here. Being in Joel’s territory. It gives you a random power trip, more than anything.

But that’s short lived when you realize that your favorite pink polka-dot mug is too high on the shelf—and Miller is too enamoured with whatever it is that he’s doing—so you settle for the less appealing yellow butterfly one, and begin to pour in the liquid that’s definitely comparable to black tar heroin.

You take a swig, before you’re traipsing away from the carafe that you’ve been so gratefully acquainted with.

“I’m so over today already.” You moan, walking over to your seat. You’d have liked to have been sipping on a fresh maple hazel latte today, but you’ll take what you can get so long as you’re not having to actually make it yourself.

You lean over the counter—zoning in on the miniature cake-case—and lift one of those beautifully round cinnamon rolls. You take a bite, and all seems to be right in the world. Aside from the man whose bun you’ve just stolen.

“Joel, are you even lucid right now?”

“I am.” He mumbles, wondering whether the specials should be placed before or after the main menu. It’s a predicament he didn’t think he’d be faced with at this time on a Friday morning. But here he is.

“Whatcha doin’?” A little bit intrigued—because Joel has never struck you as a perfectionist—you ask. He doesn’t respond straight away, and you don’t mind because you’re raking your fingers through tangled strands, wondering why you never carry a hairbrush with you anymore. You’re also munching on your illegal cinnamon roll.

“Just tryin’ to make this stupid place look a little better.” He exhales a deep, exaggerated breath. Joel’s line of sight meets yours when he swivels around, a wonky smile pulling at your lips and a sheen of sticky buttercream icing twinkling beneath yellow spotlights.

He takes you all in. The black dress that you’re donning, your favorite double-breasted woolen coat—that you pull out of your wardrobe each fall—the collection of bracelets decorating your wrists. You’re a marvel, despite feeling less than adequate. A different kind of beauty.

Joel bites back any feelings, and blinks at you.

“Did you just take that cinnamon roll without paying?”

You nod, swallowing down the last mouthful, followed by a long sip of coffee. “I did. And I’d do it again.”

Yeah. He thought as much.

“The specials board looks good.” Striving to change the subject, you tell him. You look up at it, impressed by his handwriting and ability to draw little pumpkins and maple leaves. It’s sweet. “Why’d you change it?”

He glances at it with you, noticing too many imperfections. He sighs.

“Was boring me, the old one. But now…”

“Now this one isn’t up to scratch either?” You pose, setting your lips into a straight line. “But I think it looks great. And I come in here every single day, so I think that I’m qualified to say that.”

Joel chuckles. He supposes that you’re right. He also supposes that you need another refill.

“How’d last night go?” Almost as if he doesn’t want to know the answer, he asks. All the while pouring enough coffee into the mug to drown a small town. “Was Costco guy a hit?”

You groan. Dramatically. Joel grimaces.

“I take that to mean no, he wasn’t.”

Wordlessly, you nod. You take a long, drawn out pull of your coffee. Again. And Joel checks you out. Again.

The apples of your cheeks appear to be slightly more subdued, now. No longer blazing red. And your smile—despite faltering at the mention of your date—is as bright, and toothy as ever.

She’s so beautiful.

I wonder whether or not he was a jerkoff.

Soft spoken, Joel asks about Marcus for the last time when you swirl the remnants of coffee about in the mug. He’s curious. Maybe a bit too much.

“Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.” Slightly depressed—completely unlike you—you start. “It was so crappy, Joel. I had high hopes, but he was just so…eh.”

“Eh?”

“Yeah. Eh.”

“Meaning?”

“Boring. Irritating. A literal life-sucking, soul-destroying, personality vacuum.” Blunt, you tell him. “I’d rather sit and watch an entire room of paint dry, than have to spend another waking minute listening to him ramble on about his vapid life.”

Plump lips contort—against his better judgement—into a little smirk. Satisfied, perhaps. Content with the fact that your date—the one that you unintentionally rubbed into his face—went so awfully bad, you don’t even want to talk about him.

Very, very satisfied.

“But my lunch with Maria was great.” Starting to smile again, you explain. “She told me that she and Tommy are heading to Cancun next summer. And that they’re hoping to start trying for a baby—“

Joel grimaces. He hates this.

So. Much.

“Come on, it’ll be cute. Uncle Joel.”

He stares at you, a few loose curls poking out from above the backstrap of his hat makes it almost impossible to take him seriously.

“I’d rather not think about my brother and his wife trying for a baby.”

Your eyes roll. “Grow up, you prude.”

Joel’s hands fuse to his hips, a light sheen of sweat coating the skin of his forehead. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s hot, or starting to get annoyed.

“How is that me being a prude? I just don’t wanna think ‘bout my brother having—“

“Enough.” Warning—though fighting a giggle—you say. “I can’t believe that when I say that you’re brother is trying for a baby, you automatically envision Tommy having sex. That is not normal.”

He supposes that you’re right, but still. The mental image haunts him.

Maybe it’s just a girl thing, to think of that so positively. Like it’s something to share with the entire world. But to him—a guy—it’s the most inconceivable thing.

Perhaps it is a little bit prudish.

“Moving swiftly on…” Hands placed gently against the newspaper left at the spot to your right, you make eye contact with him again. “Maria said she’d cover tomorrow night.”

Joel says your name, letting his head tilt back a little bit. He seems annoyed at you for going behind his back like this. You can’t find it inside yourself to care, though.

“She said she’ll be happy to. ‘Cus you never go out, and have no friends, and no social life, and—“

“I get it.” His baritone is low as he growls. It’s almost primal. It’s actually a little bit seductive, you feel.

Despite being handsome—almost painfully so—you’ve never thought about him like that. It’s never once crossed your mind to harbor these feelings about your friend, but that has completely unintentionally awakened something inside of your already chaotic—much too busy—brain. And your vagina.

You feel very Bridget Jones-y, now. In a strange position, but wholly comfortable with the fact that you’re stuck here. In fact, you don’t hate the thought of pushing some more.

“And considering that you never get laid, neither, I said that I’ll be happy to help out.”

Joel’s dick twitches. His face falls.

“With setting you up, of course.” You finish, watching fifty different emotions flit over his hardened features. One of which being complete unadultered fury.

Fury for the fact that, maybe, you’ve teased a little too close to home. and getting to grips with being single stings. Or fury because he wants you, and you’re trying to push him onto another body.

Regardless, Joel looks pissed.

And so, with that, you take the morning paper, and stuff it into your little purse. He watches intently, and the little adjustment to your panties through your dress absolutely does not go unnoticed as you stand to attention beside the barstool.

Your coat is being shrugged on in a heartbeat.

“I’ve gotta shoot. My parents are coming to stay with me Monday for a few nights, and I needa stock up on tea leaves, fresh linens, and enough red wine to get so drunk that perhaps I’ll be able to tolerate an hour with my mother.”

Joel forces a laugh.

“See ‘ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He watches you leave—like each day before this one—and smirks. “See ‘ya tomorrow. Maybe.”

Your head whips around as you get to the door, eyebrows fused together. With eyes squinting, you point at him. “Thin. Ice.”

The next evening rolls around faster than what you might’ve liked, and is considerably colder than before. A black scarf wrapped around your neck really tampers with the vibe of your very put-together outfit for movie night.

But you suppose that if you were to leave that at home, then you’d absolutely die of frostbite. And then the question of who’d annoy Joel if I was six feet under? rattles around your head. And you can’t possibly carry on with the prospect of death.

So the scarf stays on. And so does the matching hat.

“You look like one of the snowmen that the kids build on the green.” Is what he greets you with when you enter the coffee house. Neck and chin swathed in faux cashmere.

“Very funny.” You mumble, pulling down fabric to reveal your perfectly plush lips. “Let’s go. I’m starving, and it’s cold.”

“Don’t forget your coal ‘n carrot.” Maria jokes from behind the counter, and Tommy is almost doubled over laughing at his wife.

They’re so cute together. It makes you sick.

“Don’t poke the bear.” Joel murmurs to his brother. “I’ve gotta spend the evening with it, and I’d really rather my head stay intact—“

“I can hear you.”

Joel glances over his shoulder shrugging on his denim jacket with the white borg trim, and stifles a laugh at the sight of you; completely clothed from your cheeks down. It’s adorable.

“Sorry.” Murmuring again, he says. He gestures for you to go out first, before he’s turning to his brother and Maria, mouthing a quick thank you.

She simply smiles in response, and turns to her husband when the two of you leave the building.

“He’s totally into her.”

“Oh, no doubt about it.” Tommy replies. “Just hope he’s not too chicken shit to do anything ‘bout it.”

She agrees with a soft hum, making tracks to a table of new customers to take their orders.

Per Joel’s request, the two of you grab a burger from a very—very—greasy joint a few blocks away from the movie theatre, and you find it being one of the best you’ve ever had in your life.

Piled to the absolute high-heavens, it’s safe to say that you’d never seen such a creation before. Cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato—a boat-load of pickles—and, like, six onion rings, had that monster very deserving of its title of gut-buster.

But the way that you absolutely mangled that thing had Joel way more impressed. He’d only ever watched you devour cinnamon rolls and the odd stack of pancakes. This was like a fever dream.

And the fact that you then decided on grabbing a purse-full of snacks to take into the screening of Beetlejuice with you, has you very deserving of a few freebies from his humble cafe.

“That movie never fails to make me smile.” You say as the two of you walk—arm in arm—back into the cold, dreary night. “But it always begs the question; if the Maitland’s died by drowning, then why aren’t they wet throughout the movie?”

Joel laughs and shrugs, finding himself tightening the grip that his arm has on yours. Neither of you mind.

“I just think that Keaton plays a demon super well—“

“Don’t call him that.” You defend. “I mean, I know that he technically is one, but still. He’s a stand up guy.”

“He’s a total jerk—“

“Joel.” You whine. He’s one of your favorite fictional characters, and it’s killing you to hear this slander. “He’s my—he’s my boy. I love him.”

He blinks at you. His respect for you is dwindling, mainly because you’re essentially saying that Keaton’s portrayal of a green-haired gremlin is better than his version of Batman.

Blasphemy.

“He’s hot.” You say after a few moments of silence, feeling your cheeks heat at the confession. “In a dilf-y way. I think.”

Two brown eyes almost bulge out of Joel’s head, and he literally cannot help the laugh that bubbles from the fissures of his throat. You are very troubled.

“That’s concerning.”

“The fact that I like older men is concerning to you?”

His heart thumps. He’s not sure why, but it does. It’s a strange sensation—one he’s not able to describe in so many words—but he enjoys it. He thinks.

Maybe.

“No.��� He clears his throat. “The fact that you find Michael Keaton—as Beetlejuice—hot is concerning to me, kid.”

You throw your head back laughing, motioning to a bench that looks fairly dry. You’re not ready for your evening to end quite yet.

“Why’d you always call me that?”

Joel unhooks his arm from yours, taking a seat as you plop down onto the birchwood. He lets out a little grunt as he goes down, something about his back and knees hurting from slaving away alllllll day.

“Call you what? Kid?”

You nod.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, leaning back. Joel extends his legs, just watching the city lights pass him by. “I’m a lot older than you. It’s habit, I ‘spose.”

Dallas is bustling, tonight. A cold, foggy evening will seldom stop the population of Texas from stepping out on a Saturday night. Phil’s Line Dancing club is packed, as per usual. Wall-to-wall with people just looking for a good time.

The atmosphere is unmatched, to you. Nothing feels as good as your state. Especially on weekends and football days. You get a little wet just thinking about the Cowboys playing AT&T.

Your home is so vibrant. So colourful and beautiful, and you’re happy to be seeing Dallas in all of its glory with Joel by your side tonight.

Many a drunk couple stumble past you both as you sit and chat on the bench, the thought of his last sentiment still hanging over your head like a little rain cloud. He may be a lot older than you, but you don’t mind. You still see him as a friend.

A good friend, as a matter of fact. Great, even. The best, perhaps.

A friend who despite seeing every single morning—and sometimes evening—you still feel like you cannot fill in the blanks on the sordid details of his life.

“Can I ask you something?” You turn so that you’re facing Joel, eyes searching his face for an answer. He smiles. The lines around his mouth, crows feet and forehead wrinkles have your eyes softening.

He’s so handsome.

“Yeah, shoot.”

Fiddling with the chain on your wrist—the one that Maria got you from Toronto—it’s a struggle to find your words. The right words, anyway.

You clear your throat after an awkward juncture, finally able to verbalize what you want to say.

“Did Tess leave because of me?”

It comes like a ton of bricks to the chest. Joel didn’t think you’d ask such a heavy question, least alone after spending the evening—outside of the shop—together. It’s a very jarring—painful—position to be thrust into. But it’s a question that he knew he’d have to respond to first as last.

His heart wrenches. He knows the answer, but he doesn’t know whether you do.

“I won’t be offended. Honest.”

“Where’s—uh—where’s this comin’ from?” He stutters over his qualm, hand reaching for the back of his neck. He rubs at the skin, feeling his heart pound. “Did someone say somethin’?”

Your head shakes. “No. I’ve just been thinkin’…”

“Why?” Comes a little bit curt. He kicks himself, but you don’t seem fazed by his tone. “People talkin’?”

Again, you’re shaking your head. “No, Joel, I just wanna know.”

Inquisitive as ever.

He swallows thickly the acrimony that’s rising to the surface at the thought of Tess and the day that she left. Trying to keep it suppressed hasn’t done him the favor that he thought it would’ve.

“She left ‘cus she had enough.” He spits, doing the most to avoid eye contact. “Of me. Of Birch Grove. Of everything that I fuckin’ did.”

You gasp. You don’t think that you’ve ever heard Joel curse.

Raw with emotion, his voice sounds barren. Bare. There’s nothing left to say, on the topic, but so much at the same time. But he owes this to you.

“She never liked you, y’know?” Almost guilty, he says. “Said you’re always too chirpy and flirty—hell, I think she was just projectin’ ‘cus I never saw her happy to see no one.”

“No way.” Not nearly sarcastic enough, you laugh. “I’m surprised that she never spat in my coffee.”

“Yeah, well. I’d never put anything past her.” A little bitter, he responds. “Hated all you girls that’d come in. Even scared off Josie—told her not to come back, or she’d tell her husband that she was tryna screw me—“

Genuinely shocked, your jaw hangs low. “Jesus.”

“Yep.” He watches over the stragglers stumbling out of Phil’s, and looks at you.

Your cheeks, nose and ears are stippled with a rosy blush. If he were to set his calloused palms against your tender skin, he’s sure that the cold would be almost bone-chilling. But he refrains.

“Nasty, nasty piece ‘a work. Glad she left, if I’m honest.”

“You two…You seemed so happy.”

“We were.” Honest comes his proclamation. “Until we weren’t. Until she started to get envious of every single female that walked through the cafe doors, and turned into a big blonde green-eyed monster.”

“Jealousy is such an ugly trait.”

He agrees with a tight-lipped smile and a nod, ignoring the fact that he was feeling that very emotion when you went out on a date. With a man who wasn’t him.

But now, here you are. With Joel. On a not date. But he’ll take what he can get, so long as the two of you can have some time together.

“God, Joel. I couldn’t imagine my life not coming to see you every morning.”

He smiles.

“What?” You blush. But it’s not apparent, what with the way your skin is already flush.

“Nothin.’” Joel’s teeth show beneath the scratchy hair of his mustache. You smile back. “Just couldn’t imagine mine if you didn’t come ‘n bleed me dry of lattes ‘n cinnamon rolls, either.”

That’s wholly the truth. Something he didn’t think he’d ever find himself letting you become privy to. Yet, here he is.

“That’s sweet. It’s nice to know that you have a heart beneath all the band shirts, and flannels.”

“Yeah, well.” He stretches his arms out and you slide closer to him—taking the man completely by surprise—nestling comfortably into his side. A perfect fit, actually. “It’s hard to get to, but it’s there.”

You smile up at him, eyes twinkling beneath the streetlights above.

“That’s good to know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze is averted to the sidewalk, now. Focused wholly on the night passing you by. “Hopefully I hold a tiny little place there.”

Joel hugs you into his side, silently reassuring you that there’ll always be a tiny little place in his heart just for you.

[cemetery-sunset]

Cullen Family Helping You Through a Depressive Episode [headcanons]

divider from: @saradika-graphics

🧣Carlisle

- The most logical one to be honest

- Being a doctor, he knows how important it is to keep you healthy

- He keeps you fed/watered/nourished, makes you whatever food you want and brings it to you in bed

- Carlisle always makes sure that you have a cool glass of water on your bedside table

- He also helps you stay clean; he will offer to hop in the tub or shower and bathe with you, or if you asked him to he would just wait in the bedroom getting some pajamas for you

- He’ll brush your hair for you, but he’s not a very good stylist so dont expect anything more than a simple braid (and even that would look a little wonky lol)

- Offers to lay with you, if you accept he will hold you so gently and lovingly

- Continuously praising you and telling you how strong you are and how good you have been doing

- Sometimes he will read to you while you cuddle, any book you want 

- He's always there for you, he never hesitates to help you whenever you need

- Sometimes he knows when you start spiraling before you do

- He knows just the right things to do and say to help you calm down

- He’s surprisingly scared that you’re going to do something stupid if things get too bad. He hides his fear well, he doesn't want you to worry about him on top of everything else

- Always tries his best to help you and stay by your side for as long as you need

🐴Jasper

- He can feel that you’re feeling down, without you even telling him

- Never try to hide it from him, cause thats never going to work. He always knows what you’re feeling, and he is always on red alert whenever he feels literally any negative emotion from you

- Jasper is a quiet person, so he isn’t very forward or aggressive about his approach, his is more subtle but still very much effective

- He doesn’t really say a lot, it’s his actions that speak volumes.

- His love language is quality time and touch, so he is always by your side

- He is definitely the type to ask if he can touch you when you start to spiral. If you’re panicking, he asks to give you a hug; if you dont feel comfortable with that, he’ll just hold your hands

- Jasper has never been more grateful for his powers than those times when you feel so down and self hating

- It hurts him so much to feel all that pain and suffering you feel for yourself, and/or in general

- He enjoys quietly cuddling together, which always seems to improve your mood

- If things are really bad, he will hum some old country songs from his childhood, but thats very rare

- The biggest thing he does is to use his powers to help you, but he doesn’t do it to much because he doesn’t want to control your emotions, he just wants to help you know what i mean?

⚾Emmett

- My favorite himbo <3

- His biggest thing is to distract you and get your mind off of whatever is hurting you

- He will be the one to offer cuddles before you even ask, he hugs you so tight and starts talking about everything and nothing

- Emmett would be the first to help get you out of bed

- He would make a huge effort to keep you fed, he just wants to keep you healthy

- If you’re feeling up for it, he likes to take you on hikes in the woods. It’s a simple thing but it helps you focus on something else

- If you don’t want to get out of bed, he is perfectly fine just cuddling and watching something on tv

- He will whisper sweet things into your ear

- Telling you how much he loves you

- He focuses a little less on the actual situation and more on hyping you up in general

- Like he will compliment your personality and appearance. He will go over everything he loves about you and every single part of your body and tells you why he loves all of it

- He loves to cover you in kisses and doesn’t stop showering you in praises until he knows for a fact that you’re feeling better

🎹Edward

- Would either be the sweetest, most comforting man ever or a distant, super cold one

- There’s no in between, sorry about it :/

- Sometimes he would be almost suffocating with how worried and close he would be

- He wouldn’t leave your side for a second, always doing anything you need

- But sometimes it would start to make him start to spiral

- Like he would start to worry that he’s not good enough to take care of you and you dont deserve him

- After he sees how stupid that thought is, he sees how much you need him in this hard time so he steps up to the plate and starts doing much better

- He doesn’t know how to cook, but he’ll buy you any food you want

- He will gladly cuddle and praise you whenever you need

- Sometimes he will even play you some piano, to help you drift off to sleep

- He would surprise you with a song he wrote for you

- Even if he doesn’t want to force you to do anything he would persuade you to get out of bed

- Both of you sit at the piano and she will teach you a thing or two

- But usually he likes to take you on walks in the woods, his favorite thing to do is just lay in the field with you and feel the cool breeze and your warm hand in his

- It brings him peace. Being there with you and knowing that he’s helping you feel better

👑Rosalie

- She is similar to Jasper with the more subtle approach

- Rosalie understands what it’s like to have those really bad days because she’s had them

- She will help you stay clean and eat something

- Rosalie would take baths with you and brush your hair, doing it up in a beautiful style

- Usually people see her as the cold, stubborn type of girl, but she’s much more than that

- She knows what it’s like to feel that broken

- That’s why she offers her help in any way she can, anything you want, it’s yours

- It’s the little things for her

- Like she’ll make you a simple sandwich or just be cuddling with you

- A bunch of those little things just keep adding up and she doesn’t stop there

- She would bring you gifts to try to raise your spirits

- She’s a little awkward in her approach to showing you this much affection, thats why she does a bunch of little things rather than huge declarations of her love

- It’s more of an unspoken understanding about how much she loves you. But when times like these hit, she realizes that you need her reassurance and love more than ever

- She puts in a huge amount of effort into those small gifts and actions, just to make sure you know she loves you and will always be there when you need

🌖Alice

- I know that all of the Cullens know what it’s like to feel broken and hurt, its just that some know the feeling more than others

- Alice definitely knows that feeling

- Sometimes she sees that you’re going to have an episode before it even starts

- So she starts gathering all the supplies: your favorite snacks, blankets and anything else you need

- She is super worried for you but she hides it with her positivity

- She will give you makeovers and take care of you, without you even asking

- The makeovers are her favorite because not only is it a way to get your mind focused on other things but it’s an easy way to help keep up your hygiene with the showering and the self care she helps you with

- Sometimes, if things are looking really bad she will get really worried that something bad was going to happen

- Then she sees a vision of everything being okay in the future

- She very much enjoys wrapping you in tight hugs and whispering nice things to you

- Everything from “You’re so beautiful inside and out, i love you so much” to “everything is going to be okay, we’re going to get through this together. I’ve seen it”

🥀Esme

- Dare i say: she would take a much more maternal and protective approach

-  I dont want to say she forces you to eat and drink but she definitely makes you stay nourished

- She is more than willing to make you anything you want, she just wants to help in any way she can to make you feel better

- She will help you bathe and cuddle all day if you need

- Cuddling is her specialty, she makes it even better because she likes to sing quietly

- She likes to hum and sing you cute little songs until you drift back to sleep

- As much as she doesn’t want to force you to do anything, she does make you take regular walks and get outside every day

- The movement and fresh air are very important

- She will make a picnic basket and take it on a small hike, just the two of you

- Esme would gladly make your favorite food (or try to) and have a cute little picnic to take your mind off of things :)

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[wildemaven]

look at us | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.

It’s a heady sensation.

Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.

His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.

Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.

He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.

Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.

Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.

It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.

An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.

When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.

Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.

Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.

The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.

The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.

Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard

While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.

The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.

You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.

“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.

“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.

“I like havin’ you close.”

“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.

Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.

You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.

Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.

You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.

He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.

The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.

“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.

“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.

“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.

“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.

The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.

“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.

“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.

“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.

“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.

There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.

Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.

The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.

“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.

“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”

It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.

Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.

His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.

His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.

I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.

Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.

Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.

“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.

“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”

Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.

Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.

Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.

“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”

“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”

You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.

His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.

“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.

“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.

Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.

It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.

“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.

Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.

You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.

Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.

You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.

Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.

Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.

The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.

“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”

“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.

Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.

“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”

Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.

“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.

He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.

“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.

“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.

“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.

A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.

“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.

“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.

"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Mmm— love you, Joel.”

[ninothebirb]

Sleeping HCs with JJK Characters!

Note: This is a mainly pre-Shibuya arc post where everything was happy go lucky and no-one died. There is one character in here which also has a post-Shibuya arc headcanon- so beware.

Warning!: Ultra super duper fluff, like a cloud- so fluffy you can't feel it!, Some angst, gender neutral reader, wonky writing

🌙🌙💤💤💤💤💤💤------------------------💤💤💤💤💤💤🌙🌙

Gojo Satoru:

He's the kind of guy who snores like it's the last thing he's gonna do in his life. As much as he absolutely adores cuddles and snuggling, his snoring is a bit of a problem since it's so loud. But don't you worry- because he bought some super expensive ear plugs just for you, so you can sleep in the same room together.

Getou Suguru:

You can't sleep with him cuz he's dead and possessed by a brain shaped maniac curse.

Itadori Yuji:

He's super sweet! He has the warmest comforter and always makes sure you sleep before he does, but there's a tiny problem. He kicks when he sleeps, so most mornings you find yourself on the floor. He often puts pillows between the two of you so you don't get hurt, but there are times when you take the initiative to just cuddle him and hold him close. It's a risk worth taking, really.

Post Shibuya Arc:

Yuji's nights are often sleepless at this point, he doesn't kick anymore, but that's been replaced by the nightmares he has. All he does is hold you tight and cry into your arms, because the only hope he has left is you, which he is deathly afraid of losing.

Megumi Fushiguro:

He's a bit shy at first, since he's quite new to lovey dovey stuff. But he's not completely against it, he just needs some time. The two of you gradually proceed, sleeping on the same bed, and then finally cuddling. He's a caring person and always keeps what he loves close to his heart, especially when he's sleeping and in a vulnerable state as such. Sometimes he needs space, but that's no biggie, because he'll always love you.

Nobara:

She's a tough nut to crack, you'll give her that. At first she told you she wants personal space and will sleep alone in her own dorm room, only to find her cuddling up against you on your bed. She isn't necessarily shy, she's just- a bit reserved and protective of herself. It took a while for her to admit she likes sleeping together, but it was obvious from day one. She's a sweet girl though, she makes sure to adjust her sleeping schedule to yours, even if she would prefer to stay awake till late night.

Nanami Kento:

Oh boy, he's always so stressed from work that the moment he returns he's on the bed before you even saw him enter your shared apartment. On non-working days, he always holds you tight when in bed, and many a times you'll find him stroking your hair to make sure you fall asleep. He needs to be completely certain that the two of you are safe before sleeping, so he locks all the doors and windows, closes the curtains and keeps the keys under his pillow.

Shoko:

Idk much about her, but she's a caring woman. She always looks after your sleeping schedule, but struggles with her own. Of course, every night she'll lay beside you, holding you tight and maybe sneaking a few pics for herself.

Maki Zenin:

Tsundere sleeping energy. She's very similar to Nobara's case, but she avoids cuddling or "childish playtime" as she calls it. You respect her preferences however, and she's also ready to sleep in the same bed. Just- no cuddles or snuggles.

Yuta Okkotsu:

He's extremely shy when it comes to sleeping together. After Gojo-Sensei recommended him some extreme adult dating advice, his mind was blown. First off, he learnt that sleeping together meant indulging in sexual intercourse- and he didn't wanna lose his virginity! Yet! That was until you explained that you just wanted to sleep in the same bed, and just because he trusts you so dearly, he agreed. He enjoys snuggles a bit too much, always glued to you like you're his lifeline.

[elioslover]

Routines (Harry Styles x reader) dadrry!

Premise: Harry is stirred from his sleep by the best little surprise.

[I could not help myself!]

Word count: 1.4k.

Warnings: . Other writing / More dad!harry

🧸

The sun is bright-even brighter than the curtains shielding it from the sleepy owners tucked away under soft and fluffy white sheets. Speaking of, Harry has been in a deep sleep, swimming across dreamland with gills and a tail. An extremely enticing activity that only has him lulling further into unconsciousness. 

But it doesn’t take long for his dreams to start turning foggy, a soft and cute voice cooing out to him, coming from the sky above him, demanding his attention. He knows the voice well- knows he will be awake in a few moments. And how could he resist when the voice is so loving, a mumble of half-formed words and little giggles. 

He can feel someone starts to stir beside him, a soft grumble threatening to roll over and tend to the little voice calling for your attention from the other side of the bed. Harry needs to stop you before you are fully awake and can't convince yourself to fall asleep, well aware that letting you rest will be one of the only graces he can still give you. 

Blindingly reaching his arm out, Harry gently rubs his palm along your back, swirling circles along your skin, signalling your nearing return to slumber. Sighing out with relief, you shift and snuggle back into the plush sheets. 

The giggling goes on, closer to his face now and Harry can't stop the sleepy smile that creeps along his feature, excitement for his eyes to flutter open so he can greet the needy little one who is only moments away from wrapping their chubby little fingers around his nearest curls, threatening to tug if he waits much longer. 

This is a guarantee after a repeat of the same wake-up routine for weeks in a row- a tiny tot, reaching no taller than his knees, the perfect place to wrap around him to stay as close as humanly possible. A little baby, well rested, waking up with the sun and ready to sing their little songs for mummy and daddy. 

She had stayed snuggled beneath her lilac and unicorn duvet for as long as her little thoughts could keep her company, but after a good moment of fiddling with her fingers- raised above her and aimed for the ceiling, creating wonky hand puppets- she is determined for only one thing; the company of the tall, all-knowing parent. 

Her soft feet, devoid of creases, new to the whole living thing, pad along the hardwood floor, navigating from the safety of her bed in search of the main bedroom. The journey from one room to another is hardly existent- less than five footsteps away, and with the door already slanted, she is welcome to wander and waddle along to the king-sized mattress. 

A smile turns to a little grin, baby teeth peaking past her gums as she makes her way over before coming to a clumsy halt at the foot of the bed. Both parents are buried between a mountain of sheets, heads pressed into the pillows, soft snores emitted in intervals, and she frowns with little furrowed brows, longing for them to wake up and smother her with lovies. 

Harry obliges with another little smile, sending it her way from behind closed lids, taking a last second to enjoy the feeling of darkness before slowly squinting his eyes to open, slowly separating and embracing the harsh shining of the sun, peaking through a sliver of the crumpled curtain, bouncing along and illuminating the bedroom. 

With one eye more open than the other, his vision blurs to clarity, he is met with the wide and gleeful gaze of his favourite little gremlin. She has him grinning from her mere presence, partially satisfied that she has managed to persuade Harry to escape slumber, giddy for the gush of greetings she is guaranteed to receive. 

His voice is gravelly as a toothy grin spreads along his cheeks, shiny teeth cheesing up at the little lady looking over at him with the widest most innocent green eyes, thick black lashes fanning and framing her stark, fiery gaze,

“Good morning princess.” 

He can hear you shuffle with surety and satisfaction, digging deep into the mattress and delving back to sleep with the reassurance that your little one is taken care of- for the moment, at least. Satisfied with his success, Harry turns all of his attention to the little girl currently clapping her hands together with anticipation as she answers, 

“Hello, dada.” 

Each time she chooses to verbalise her thoughts, Harry feels like it’s the first time- the first time he’s heard her little voice. Even if she’s only been absent for a couple hours, he cannot help the surprise that stirs in his heart, butterflies batting against the walls of his stomach, filled with excitement over his little creation beaming up at him with such pure adoration. 

Harry rolls over fully, resting on his hip, one arm raising to cradle his head and the other reaching out in an attempt to reel her in closer. She obliges in an instant, bouncing up and down on the balls of her chubby little feet, bounding over to him, her hand wrapping around his own extended palm. 

With her hand in his, Harry is always amused at how tiny she really is- with such a rambunctious and animated personality, it's hard to believe her third birthday is yet to pass- fitting in his palm like that of a petit flower, her half-scrunched fist sitting right in the middle of his hand like blooming petals. 

“Did you have a nice sleep?” Harry ponders, a warm feeling melting his heart as she begins nodding avidly. She had no dreams, despondent to the world, wholesomely welcoming the darkness, and Harry longs for the days when his sleep was the same. 

She is inching closer, clambering over in an attempt to settle into his custody, and Harry is more than willing to comply as he gently guides her closer with his grip, encouraging her to continue her climb up onto the mattress, 

“Wanna snuggle with mummy and daddy for a little?” He already knows the answer, but he loves the way her eyes light up with excitement. 

“Absolutely.” That’s a new one for her, replacing the repetitive answer of yes, Harry is reeling with amusement, in awe of her apparent skill in picking up and copying the words she has heard both you and Harry saying at some point or another. This is absolutely his contribution- he had said it a couple times just the day before. 

“C’mere, clever little one.” He helps her crawl up, the mattress dipping so minimally as she cuddles closer into his hold. 

Harry shifts further back, careful not to bump your body, but soothed as one of your hands sluggishly holds onto his shoulder, your own body squeezing closer to his until there is no space and Harry is being spooned by his sweetest companion, back slotted between your chest. 

He provides enough space for his little one to snuggle over into him, her entirety curled into a half-moon, legs curled up and little arms scrunched against her chest. As soon as her head hits the pillow, she is starting to settle, little eyes struggling to keep from swelling shut with the promise of extra sleep. Harry knows it will be mere moments until she slips away with melatonin, leaving him with the promise that he will soon join her. 

His eyes flutter shut as she snuggles in even closer- if possible- and his arms curls around her with comfort and security, making certain she knows she is always safe in his company. And it seems like seconds before her body stills, and relaxes into the bundle of sheets, little breaths evening out until Harry is sure she is asleep. 

With sleepy eyes and a wholesomely swollen heart, Harry is wrapped up and warm, surrounded by the most important loves in his life, wondering how he got so lucky as slumber slowly seduces him back into darkness.  

[whosbloom]

Spencer Reid » Pumpkin carving

day 1 of flufftober

⋆.˚ summary: persuading spencer into carving pumpkins with you leads to more then you expected

⋆.˚ fluff , lowkey insulting Derek , friends-to-lovers , mutual pining , very awkward romance

“This is so gross..” Spencer whined for the nth time as he walked over to your sink, rinsing his hands off again to rid of the pumpkin guts that coated his fingers. “How do people do this every year?”

“It’s not that bad, Spence. I offered to gut it for you so you could just cut the face out..” You raised your brows at him, carefully pulling pumpkin seeds from the guts and laying them across several paper towels you had laid out. “You could get the pumpkin seeds out for Rossi and Penelope if you want.

He simply gave you a look at your suggestion, shaking his head and wiped his hands dry with a hand towel, before standing back towards the counter and carefully grabbed his pumpkin.

“My pumpkin is shaped like Derek’s head.” He mumbled under his breath, picking up one of the several markers you had laid out across the counter, hunching over as he started to sketch out the face he wanted to cut out.

“Is that an insult to him or the pumpkin?” You smiled at him, placing the last of the pumpkin seeds down and walked over to the sink to finally wash your hands. “The pumpkin.” He smiled back at you, turning his pumpkin towards you.

He had only done a simple triangle eye so far but you could tell he was proud of it nonetheless, before he turned it away again and continued to sketch out his face.

You couldn’t help but admire how concentrated he was as he sketched, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, a slight furrow in his brow, and his gaze not faltering once so ever.

“You’re staring again.” He spoke up, finishing up his pumpkin and turned it towards you, his lines wonky and slightly wavy. “Again?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.

He nodded with a smile, before grabbing the pumpkin carving knife and sat in a stool, pulling the pumpkin with him so he could hunch over and start to carve out the face.

“You stare a lot more than you think you do. A lot of times when I’m reading or talking to Derek I can feel your gaze burning into the back of my skull. I’m surprised Garcia hasn’t talked to you about to.. she always asks me about it.” He rambled on, shrugging as he carefully carved.

You were at a slight loss for words, blinking a few times before finding yourself moving a bit closer to him, crossing your arms and leant against the counter.

“Do you not like when I stare?”

He paused for a moment, glancing back at you before turning away again. “I don’t mind it.”

You nodded along, turning away and picked at your nails for a moment, not seeing him put the carving tool down and turned towards you.

“I stare too sometimes. I can’t help it—you’re just.. really beautiful. I know this is cliche and probably the worst time to say any of this, but I’m too nervous to say it any other time, and being alone with you seems to be the best option—“ He quickly cut himself off and took a deep breath, holding a hand up before continuing.

“I don’t want Derek or Garcia to see because I know they won’t drop it ever, but honestly I really like you. I really hope you like me too.” He breathed out, turning away again and nervously went back to carving.

You stared at him blankly, blinking a few times before swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “I like you too.”

His eyes widened for a moment, glancing at you and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Cool.. cool.” He nodded and let out a breath, clearly just as nervous as you were.

The two of you stayed silent for a moment longer, with you standing up and walked over to your pumpkin, awkwardly picking up a marker.

“Can we consider this a date?” He asked quietly, glancing up at you from across the counter, his brows knitted together.

You looked back at him, a smile creeping onto your face as you nodded and started to draw your own face on the pumpkin.

“Yeah.. it’s a date.”

tags: @lemoniiiiiii , @xrag-dollx , @jazz-berry (lemme know if you wanna be tagged for the other days !!)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

dave mustaine realizing how strong he is compared to the reader, and always displays this during sex, especially while fucking her against the wall or using his big hands to do whatever he wants with her body

A/n: I can’t even count how many times I tried writing this and just couldn’t think of anything, I still feel like I could’ve written it better but I hope you like it nonetheless <3

Warnings: smut, size kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

It all started when you needed help opening a jar.

It was jam, the lid was stuck and you were tired. Dave was home so after a few seconds of trying you gave up and called him over for help. He opened it with ease and you moved on with your day, but Dave didn't.

He grew this obsession with proving how weak you were, or rather how strong he was. Can't reach the top shelf? Don't worry, Dave's right around the corner to lift you up. Need help carrying the groceries in? Not a problem, he can take them with ease, carrying more bags in fewer trips.

You didn't mind it, he was always looking for more ways to help you so why would it be a bad thing?

You were making dinner and Dave was sitting not far away watching you. He wasn't saying anything, not talking about his day or asking about yours. He was just staring at you with a wonky smile.

You were looking at the ingredients. "Hey, Dave, can you get the milk for me, please?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the cookbook.

Dave got up and got the milk, bringing it over to you, though he didn't go back to his seat. Instead he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder. "You're adorable, you know that?" He asked, placing a few soft kisses against your neck.

You paused for a moment and looked at him. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Dave gave your waist a gentle squeeze. He hid his face in the crook of your neck a moment, deeply inhaling your scent. “Your so tiny.” He said. “Could just pick you up and fuck you wherever I want.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep red and you tried to stay focused on the food.

A few minutes passed and Dave didn’t let go of you, still holding you close, kissing you occasionally.

“Think about it.” He said suddenly. “I could fold you in half right now, pin you against the wall and have my way with you.” You couldn’t deny the heat pooling at your cunt, the way your thighs pushed together in search of any amount of friction. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being used like my own fucktoy?”

You took a deep breath in an attempt to clear your mind. You took the knife off the counter and started cutting a carrot before Dave stopped you and took the knife from your hand. “Enough with the hypothetical.” You turned your head to look at him and in an instant his lips were on yours, kissing, biting, tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth.

He picked you up just like he said he would and carried you to the bedroom, ignoring your weak attempts to protest. He got you out of your clothes, quite literally ripping your panties off and tossing them off somewhere.

He kissed down your body, starting at your neck and working his way down, playing close attention to your reactions, which spots were most sensitive, what felt best for you.

You twitched and moaned underneath him, heavy breaths leaving you as his big hands trailed over you. He dwarfed you. Everything about him made you small. From his hands around your neck to that bulge in your gut every time he has you to himself.

He moved back over you, kissing you sweetly before getting out of his own clothes.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” He said as he crawled back over you. “All hot and ready for me, hm?” You let out a soft whine and Dave took it as an invitation to spread your legs.

He had a hand on either of your knees, slowly moving them up to your chest. “Look at that.” He mused. “Don’t even need any prep, hm?” You smiled proudly up at him. "Good girl." He mused as he lined himself up and pushed into you.

You let out a drawn out moan at the feeling, how he stretched you out so good. He gave you a second to adjust to his girth before he started rolling his hips to meet yours.

"Oh, fuck, Dave, just like that." You moaned out. Your hands moved to his back, lightly clawing at his shoulders. He let out a low growl as his hips snapped into yours.

You couldn’t take your mind off of his dick and how each vein dragged against your gummy walls. “Fuck, you’re so small, so fucking tight.” He groaned, leaning down and biting your earlobe.

He sat back, holding your hips in place on his lap, your legs still hooked over his shoulders as he pounded into you.

Your eyes crossed and your tongue lulled out, your body bouncing up and down the bed with every thrust.

Dave’s hand came down hard on your ass and you squealed in pleasure. His hand moved from your hip to your abdomen, he pushed down and you gasped softly. “Look at that, sweetheart,” he mused, “can see just how big I am inside you.” You looked down, eyes narrowing on where a bulge came and went, showing just how deep he was hitting inside you.

He kept pushing on your stomach and your eyes rolled back, a loud moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, fuck, squeezing me so good.” His own head fell back.

Dave’s movements stopped for a moment and he wrapped his arms around you. He lifted you up and carried you off the bed. “Look at that, I can fuck my perfect doll just like this, huh?” He asked, still snapping his hips into your as he stood.

You clung to him like a koala, moaning out in his ear how good he made you feel. “Davie-! Ngh, Davie, please.” His hands gripped your hips, guiding you on his dick.

“Please, what, sweetheart? ‘Oh, please, daddy, make me cum on your big cock’?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Yes, daddy, please!” You whined. Your mind was racing with his cock, the bulge it made. His big hands over your body, carrying most of your weight, the way he bounced you on his length.

“Be good for me then and cum.” You didn’t need to be told twice, his words resonating in your body and pushing you over the edge. “Oh-oh, fuck!” Dave groaned. “Oh, god, you feel so good when you cum.” With a few more thrusts he was spilling into you, groaning in your ear.

He sat back on the bed and lifted you off of him, watching his own cum drip out of you. “Hmph, fuck.” You breathed.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, do you?” You chuckled and shook your head. “Good girl,” Dave hummed, “not done until my doll can’t walk.” He pushed back into you, your mind racing all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just wanted to show this bc I thought it was funny

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: we're here to boo Andrew.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.

“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 

“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 

“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 

“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 

“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 

“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 

“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 

“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 

“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 

“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  

“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 

“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 

“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 

You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 

“Tired?” He asks. 

“Little.” 

“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 

“Oh, what’d you do--” 

“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.” 

“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 

“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 

“You too.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Can’t, work. Day after?” 

“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 

“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 

“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 

“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 

🎮

You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 

“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 

“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 

“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 

“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 

“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 

“Again?” You squint. 

“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 

You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 

You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 

“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 

“Hey,” you frown. 

“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 

“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 

“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 

“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 

“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 

“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 

“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 

“That’s mean,” you pout. 

“What, so are you,” she laughs. 

“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  

You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 

‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 

You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 

“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 

“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 

‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 

You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 

“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 

“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 

“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 

“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 

‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 

You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 

“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 

“Kar,” you warn her. 

“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 

🎮

The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 

You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  

As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 

“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 

“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 

“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 

“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 

You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 

You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 

You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 

You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 

“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 

As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 

It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 

“Uh, hello?” You utter. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 

“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 

He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 

“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 

“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 

“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 

He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 

You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 

“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 

“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 

“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 

“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 

“I was scared--” 

“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 

He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 

“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 

“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 

He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  

You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing.