#the more time passes the more i wanna be an adult in peace

[happyfairyskeleton]

I know I usually say I'm studying to get a better job so we can move in together or adopt a cat or so I dont have to work odd jobs anymore. But sometimes I'm working because of the small dreams... sometimes what keeps me going is the thought of being able to pay for dancing lessons with him... the idea of holding his hand while we dance every week together...

[hellishjoel]

cherry 

7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh? 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)

A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.  You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.  “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone.  While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude. 

You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool. 

Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse. 

It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone. 

Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day. 

Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults. 

You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date. 

You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away. 

You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.

You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.

After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it. 

In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all. 

You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about? 

After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.  

You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable. 

But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold. 

The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell. 

You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip. 

After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.

“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so. 

The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon. 

“You want somethin’ to drink?” 

Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes. 

“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him. 

Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying. 

You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”

“Ew, no.” 

“Root beer,”

“Nope.”

Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.

“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.” 

Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you. 

If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now. 

“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned. 

You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine. 

“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter. 

“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory. 

Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room. 

You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away. 

“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him. 

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.

“What?”

Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot. 

“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.” 

He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point. 

“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion. 

“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief. 

“The hell is that?”

Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”

Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really? 

“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?” 

You rolled your eyes and huffed. 

“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?” 

“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.” 

“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint. 

“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him. 

Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.” 

It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie. 

In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying. 

A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap. 

You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold. 

You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television. 

“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?” 

“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side. 

“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.” 

Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.

Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches. 

His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette. 

“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind. 

“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline. 

“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned. 

His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you. 

“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life. 

As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell. 

Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away. 

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. 

You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. 

“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed. 

You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night. 

“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?” 

“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield. 

You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.

“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too. 

He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline. 

“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller. 

You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him. 

You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm. 

You didn’t pull away. It was impossible. 

He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now. 

Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency. 

He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze. 

Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go. 

Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs. 

A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.

His eyes caught yours. More?

You gently nod. Please. 

He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another. 

He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap. 

The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement. 

Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory. 

 A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass. 

Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours. 

Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice. 

“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs. 

You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling. 

“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper. 

“Don’t care.”

Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting. 

“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away.  “Joel, your shirt-”

“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good. 

Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss. 

You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again. 

“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that. 

“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.” 

“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.

He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom. 

“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”

He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets. 

“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box. 

You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly. 

“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face. 

Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him. 

“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur. 

“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso. 

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?” 

Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core. 

“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game. 

He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry. 

You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.

Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.  

A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made. 

“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips. 

Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front. 

“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust. 

Fuck it. 

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s. 

Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before. 

You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine. 

Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone. 

Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you. 

“Get on your knees.” 

A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees. 

He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you. 

“But I-”

“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him. 

Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch. 

Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back. 

You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach. 

A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts. 

He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy. 

Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs. 

“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup. 

You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again. 

You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs. 

You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim. 

You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now. 

With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor. 

Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug. 

Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen. 

Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off. 

You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.

You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue. 

This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off. 

You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone. 

You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone. 

“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive. 

You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight. 

Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror. 

You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy. 

“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”

You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with. 

Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on. 

“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best. 

You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm. 

You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white. 

His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him. 

Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror. 

“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds. 

“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet. 

Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half. 

You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.

“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles. 

“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts. 

You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new. 

You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.

“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips. 

“You said the best.” 

“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you. 

Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone. 

You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair. 

“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers. 

“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave. 

Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.” 

You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation. 

“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over. 

“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.” 

You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength. 

You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.  

Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well. 

“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously. 

“Gotta make sure you get home safe.” 

Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”

“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.” 

He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water. 

“t’s dark.” 

Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one. 

“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it. 

You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out. 

You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road. 

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed. 

You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents. 

You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping. 

You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door. 

“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.” 

You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.” 

You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you. 

Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse. 

“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.” 

Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there. 

“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder. 

“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.

“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.” 

Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”

“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.” 

You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger. 

“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone. 

You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel. 

---

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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)

[onsomenewsht]

from the vault:

but what can I say? / rules must be obeyed

》 The Winner Takes It All, ABBA

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 winner takes all [idiom]: used to say that the winner of a round will win the whole contest

No one looks puzzled when a seven-year-old boy comes rushing into Barcelona’s training centre, some even high fives him or cheers as he passes them at full speed.

Rafael is well known and loved in the building, even more for his joyful personality than for the last name he wears on the back of his jersey.

The kid turns a sharp line to join the team outside. Despite his short legs and his clumsiness in most situations, he has quite control of his footing.

The perks of being Alexia Putellas’ son.

“Looks like our mascotte is back”

“The best Putellas!”

The girls notice him as soon as he sprints from the doors, dribbling around some coaches without much effort, but trampling over a discharged pair of boots. The boy lands hands first on the grass. He takes his time to get up and clean his now stained jeans, quickly assessing the damage and deciding he doesn’t really care.

Jana catches the kid as he comes running once again, lifting him up with a bit more effort than the last time she saw him.

“Jaja put me down, I wanna hug mama!”

“Ouch, I’m not your favourite tia anymore?”

“No, Mapi is”

The girls close enough to hear the exchange burst out laughing, luckily for Jana’s ego and the team’s well being the said defender is not around to brag about it.

“Ohi, mi vida!”

“Mama!”

Hearing Alexia’s voice, Rafael manages to escape the girls’ affection to literally run in her open arms. The hug is emotional even just to watch, his tiny hands holding on the blonde’s neck as she keeps him as close as possible.

“I missed you, monito”

No one wants to interrupt the moment, so your arrival is the perfect distraction.

You excuse yourself and the little troublemaker for crushing the training session to everyone you meet on your path. They assure you it’s fine, you two are always welcome, and today is a special one after all.

A lot of hugs and jokes are exchanged, you take your time to greet all the girls, holding more firmly the honorary daughters Alexia took under her wings ages ago. You missed them.

“My favourite Putellas!”, Claudia shouts as she crushes in your arms.

“You just said that to Rafa”

“He’s the best Putellas, you’re my favourite”

“I’m barely a Putellas anymore”

“I thought you were supposed to arrive tomorrow”, Alexia’s tone is nothing but happy for the change of plan, your boy secured in her arms and quiet for the first time in weeks.

“We were, but it’s your last training session and he wanted to be here”, you move closer, messing your son’s hair as you attempt an awkward half hug.

“Mum said we could surprise you! Are you surprised?”

“I’m surprised, monito”, everyone smiles at Alexia’s open laugh.

Rafael’s arrival completely shifted the atmosphere, somehow making it more emotional but definitely lighter. Jana has been on the verge of tears for days now, hiding behind Patri as the weight of their captain’s retirement comes crushing on them.

It’s the right thing and it’s the right time, but it doesn’t mean it is any easier.

Despite all, despite her family’s fear and her teammates’ concern, Alexia is at peace with the choice. Despite your insecurities, Alexia’s certainty when it comes to important decisions like this one still manages to reassure you.

“Can I go shoot at Cata?”, Rafael asks with his mastered puppy eyes, as you drop your gaze at his stained jeans and the Catalan studies the shoes he’s wearing.

Damn puppy eyes.

“You can go, but make sure an actual adult is there too”

“Is Mapi an actual adult?”

“No, ask Ingrid or Rolfo if they want to join”, you add.

He nods enthusiastically, sprinting away toward the bubble of players who are more than happy to welcome the kid as the training session ends on a high note. You’re sure it will be difficult to interrupt their game later.

It’s easy to notice the two of you are left alone, her teammates giving you space but mostly eager to spend more time with your son.

“He just wants to score”

“We’re working on his selfishness with the ball, I swear”

You smile at the blonde soft defence, still amazed about their bond and how considerate she has been about Rafael’s passion for football. Never pressuring, never patronising, always just as supporting as any other parent could be.

“Thank you for bringing him here, I know you’re supposed to be in London for the week and I really appreciate your support”

“Don’t even mention it, Alexia”, you reassure her, “It’s important for you and It’s important for him, I’m more than happy to support it all”

“How long are you staying?”

“Just a couple of days, but we’ll be at any ceremony, don’t worry”

Alexia mumbles unamused, pretending the presence of her family alone is not enough to make her comfortable and confident to face all the events she’s supposed to attend as a celebration of her career.

“He can stay longer, I’ll be back when it’s my turn again”

“Are you sure?”, she is not really able to hide her excitement.

The new and strange routine is just starting to feel like it’s working in the first place, even if dividing a kid between two countries and two parents who didn’t manage to save their marriage is the most painful thing you both ever experienced.

Neither of you wants to upset Rafael and destabilise him even more, or worse, make him feel unloved.

“I’m sure, he’s the winner”

[dontsh0vethesun]

back in town

part one of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

fluff, lots of Christmas, hallmark movie cringe

for the sake of this fic, all characters are the same kind of age; ≈mid 20s

wc: 1.4k | part two

Serving customers their coffee has been an opportunity for a moment of peace lately. Wanda, as well as the remainder of your insufferable friends, had taken it upon themselves to set you up on dates. Somehow, their lack of success so far hasn’t managed to convince them of their matchmaking deficits.

So, during work hours, you’re bombarded with suggestions to which you decline time and time again. Apparently, being the Christmas season and all, it was a matter of extreme importance; the so-called ‘Christmas magic’ had to have a source of focus and, according to them, that was you.

You’d tried; the amount of boring and unsuccessful dates you’ve embarked on is almost embarrassing. You’ve had short lived relationships, fleeting flings, and so many blind dates you can’t even count them with all ten fingers. But none of them were right for you. None of the options were worthy to ‘cuddle up with by the fireplace’ or ‘entwine souls with beside a decorated tree’. Wanda had an optimistic take on your love life - you’d all be lying if you didn’t call her obsessed.

“C’mon, that girl in the bookstore was totally obsessed with you,” she spoke as soon as the customer in front of you had left with a smile and a cup of coffee in their hand.

“Wanda, please,” you groaned, busying yourself with the messed up counter, wiping down the surface hoping it’d will her away.

“She could be the one.”

“You say that about all of them,” you huffed with a laugh. She truly was a hopeless romantic. You hypothosise her obsession with your romantic endeavours is some haphazardly disguised attempt to draw away her own infatuation with a certain bookstore owner. It’s no coincidence you’re both in there so often and it’s definitely not because you have a crush on anybody there.

“Maybe this one’s different.”

“You always say that too,” you laughed. “What about you anyway? How about we get you a date with that woman you ogle, huh?”

“What woman? There isn’t a woman,” she defended, you saw right through her.

“The one that likes to give you discount on all those books you buy and never read. Agatha, is it?”

“Oh, look, you have a customer. I better get more coffee from the back,” she hurried out before rushing away.

Luckily your best friend seemed to have taken the hint for the time being and the next couple of hours passed with you working in your regular harmony.

“That man is always late, I swear,” Wanda spoke with a glance at the clock. Sam was meant to be in for his shift twenty minutes ago, though you find his lack of punctuality to be an endearing trait. And, as though his ears were burning, the man in question burst through the wreath-decorated door with quickened breaths from what you assumed to be a sprint into work.

“You will never guess who I just bumped into,” he shouted to you both as he pulled his coat off to replace it with the coffee shop apron.

“Santa?” Wanda grinned with an excitement an adult likely shouldn’t present herself with at the prospect.

“Better.”

“Nobody’s better than Santa,” she pouted.

“If it wasn’t an old guy in a red hat you’re gonna have a real sad boss to deal with,” you responded with a laugh.

“Well now I don’t wanna say,” he answered with a chuckle of his own.

“You can’t lead with that and not tell us,” Wanda countered with a poke to his arm.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

“You’re kidding.”

The pair of you answered him at the same time, a mirrored disapproval in your tones.

“Nope. She’s here for the holidays.”

“What, New York’s not good enough for her anymore?” you uttered in annoyance, rolling your eyes before plastering on an appeasing smile to the customer that approached.

“I didn’t think the small town Christmas vibe fit her new Scrooge persona,” Wanda added with an equally annoyed voice.

“I dunno, I didn’t talk to her much, I came to tell you two. You know I like the gossip,” Sam answered with a smile, though he wasn’t so pleased with her appearance either.

“You can put your matchmaking shit on hold,” you stated. “All focus is now on ‘operation avoid Romanoff’.”

“Mission accepted as long as you come up with a better title,” Wanda returned. “A Christmas themed one.”

—

“Oh my God, I need to tell you all who I saw in town this afternoon,” Kamala practically squealed as she took her seat in the booth with the rest of the group. A girl’s night out at the local bar was a no brainer after the news.

“Let me guess,” Monica voiced. “Red hair, expensive suit, kinda scary, and a knack for ghosting certain people?” She added, tapping her chin with her face contorted into one of faux musing and a pointed look towards you with her final words.

“Pretty good at breaking poor innocent hearts?” Carol added with a teasing nudge to your shoulder to lighten your mood.

“She didn’t break my heart,” you scoffed.

“Just stomped on it a little,” Kate said with the same joking tone - if there was one thing you adored your friends for it was their way of making even awful situations fell a little less dire.

“Poked at it with her expensive stilettos,” Wanda added.

“Oh, so I’m the last to know,” Kamala sighed. “That’s cool, I guess. Not that I wanted to come in here with big, dramatic news or anything.”

“No, please, go on,” you laughed. “Who was it that you saw?”

“Natasha. Romanoff,” she exclaimed with all the dramatic flare she’d hoped to achieve. And, of course, you all gasped just as you knew she’d enjoy.

“You’re kidding,” you deadpanned.

“I know!”

“I’m gonna get us some more drinks,” Kate spoke as she stood up. “No gossip whilst I’m gone, you know all the drama gets my blood up.”

And so you all talked. And talked. And talked. Every detail of your relationship - or lack thereof - was explored. Her departure and the toll it took on you was examined and you remembered just how grateful you’ve always been for their support, they’re truly the best friendship group you ever could’ve asked for.

“Oh my God.”

The phrase was grumbled out by the three of you positioned in the line of sight of the door, the faces of you, Carol and Wanda all laced with discontent at the sight.

“Alright, look behind you but be subtle,” Carol instructed. “I’m talking to you, Kamala.”

It started off discreetly to begin with, Monica glanced over her shoulder with a scoff at the image behind her. Kate, somehow, was just as discreet but, of course, Kamala being Kamala an obnoxiously loud gasp followed her gawking. It drew the attention of those at the eye of the display you were staring at and two pairs of eyes looked back at you.

“What a surprise,” Yelena grinned as she approached with her sister in tow.

“Yelena, you were literally invited,” you grumbled. “You said you had plans.”

“There’s been a change in plans,” she shrugged, clearly amused at the awkward situation she was dragging you into. “My dear sister and I are joining you.”

“I’ll get more drinks,” Natasha mumbled. The first words you’d heard from her in years and she kept her eyes everywhere but directed towards you; something about the way she still buries her hands in her coat pockets when she’s nervous stirred up a stinging familiarity.

“Lena, what the hell?” Wanda whispered when the blonde smugly took her seat in the already crammed booth.

“What?” she shrugged, feigning obliviousness at her clearly deliberate actions. “It’s Christmas, even the grinch needs a drink.”

Speaking of, the redheaded grinch in question approached with a tray of drinks and an awkward yet fleeting smile gifted to you when she pulled a chair up to the end of the table. To your surprise, she even held your gaze as she slid your glass over to you though you couldn’t muster much more than an almost inaudible thank you.

“So, you’re back,” Carol spoke, leaning forwards with her arms resting on the table.

And that began the awkward evening. There was an obvious tension between the pair of you; Natasha answered any questions she was asked and you pretended not to notice the way she’d steal looks at you over the edge of her glass. You, however, barely spoke.

How do you talk to the woman that left you behind? Especially when she comes back into town looking even more perfect than before; you scold your lustful eyes for tearing your mind apart.

[propertyoftoru]

[5:27pm] L.MH

wc: 2.3k

pairing: Lee Minho X Fem!Reader

warnings: menstrual cycle/reader is on her period, the tiniest bit of angst, miscommunication/poor communication skills??? brief mention of cheating (hardly), fluff, soft!minho, literally so soft wahhh ;v;

A/N: This was completely self indulgent. I started writing this when I was on my period and I just now got around to finishing it. This is me actively avoiding working on the soulmate series. Anyways enjoy soft Minho because I cant get enough of him.

It was almost like a 6th sense at this point. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying your day off. Some shitty rom-com playing on the TV making you way more emotional than it normally would. That was when you felt it, seemingly out of nowhere. The all too familiar ache in your bones and muscles, followed by the odd cramping in your lower stomach. You let out a loud groan as you realized what was coming.

You tried to ignore it the best you could, opting to fetch your heating pad from the bedroom and taking a pain reliever in hopes of lessening the aches. Though it seems like your own body is determined to ignore your attempts to soothe it because the pains only worsened.

Thankfully your boyfriend of 3 months was at dance practice so he wasn't there to hear the pathetic whimpers that you let out when a cramp was particularly aggressive. It's not that you thought he would judge you, you know he wouldn't. It’s just that as sweet as Minho was, he loved to tease you. While normally you would play along and tease him right back something told you that you couldn't handle his teasing words today.

Once you felt the hot water touch your skin you let out a sigh, finally feeling a brief respite from what seemed like endless torture. As ridiculous as it felt, you let yourself sink to the floor, resting your back against the cool shower wall, allowing your eyes to slip shut and enjoying the warmth of the water. 

The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 

The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 

“Baby?” followed by two soft knocks on the door. 

“Hey Min, I’m almost done in here, I'll be out soon.” You reached for your body wash, deciding to just wash up quickly, but stopped when he spoke again.

“That’s alright I'll just join you, I'm all sweaty from practice anyways.” Minho always joined you when you showered, he treasured the intimate moments you two would share. The domestic bliss that was quiet giggles and hushed conversations, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear of breaking the peaceful bubble that surrounded the two of you. It was truly one of his favorite things to do with you. The soft looks you would give him as you helped clean one another and your gentle hands massaging his scalp as you washed his hair for him always made his knees feel weak. 

But he had been out of the country last month during the week of your previous period, and before that you had just begun dating after your period ended, making this new territory for your relationship. You weren't sure why but you felt embarrassment wash over you at the idea of mentioning your period. It was ridiculous, you knew that. You were both adults and he’s not oblivious to the idea of menstruation, his comforting words that he offered to you over the phone last month assured you of that. Yet you found yourself not wanting to tell him.

“Actually Min, I think I just wanna shower alone today.” Silence followed your words and you wondered if he had already gone to grab clothes to join you. 

“...Oh alright.” A few more seconds of silence followed before he spoke again softer this time. “Have I done something to upset you?”  

Your face scrunched up and you shook your head before realizing he couldn't see you.

“No no of course not” you answered a little too quickly, attempting to reassure him “Like I said I'm just about finished then the showers all yours!” 

“You don't wanna shower with me?” He cleared his throat not wanting to come off as clingy but the pang of disappointment in his chest made him begin to question if he had done something wrong the last time you showered together. Was it because he spiked your hair up when he lathered it with your shampoo? You had laughed at the time, doing the same to him shortly after, and it quickly became one of his favorite memories with you. Maybe it was because when you had turned your back to him, he turned the water to freezing cold, a loud screech coming from you as you jumped from the water. He received a playful glare from you in return but he assumed things were okay because you had pulled him under the frigid water right after. 

His downward spiral was interrupted when you spoke again “No! I do! You know I love showering with you, it's just…”  You trailed off having run out of excuses and not wanting to upset him further. Just like that his downward spiral had increased tenfold, his mind going to a much scarier idea. Now don't get him wrong Minho was NOT the type of guy to throw unfounded accusations around, but you had always been straightforward with him, your bluntness matching his almost to a T. So your seemingly evasive answers and hesitation had his heart in his throat. His next words had you feeling like someone had punched you in the stomach, his voice more hesitant and timid than you had ever heard him. 

“...I-Is there someone in there with you?” He said it so softly you barely heard him over the sound of the water and your heart breaking in your chest.

“W-What? No. Of course not Min.” Trying to make sure your tone conveyed how serious you were. You prayed to god that he would believe you, That he trusted you enough to know that you would rather be burned alive than ever hurt him. 

“I don't even know why I just asked that.. I know that you would never do that to me.” You relaxed a little at that. “I just.. had a rough day and I was looking forward to this so when you said you wanted to be alone my mind just went to a weird place.” 

“Oh Min… I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you” You sighed again looking down at your pruned fingertips. “I really do want you to join me... It’s just…you can't.” God just tell him you idiot! Beating around the bush and upsetting him all because you're too embarrassed of something so stupid.

“Cant?” You could practically see his eyebrows pinching together and the confused pout on his face. 

“It’s embarrassing…” You were clenching your fists trying to choke down the humiliated whine that was trapped in your throat. Your eyes were burning with tears now, your lower lip beginning to tremble with every moment of silence as Minho racked his brain.

You hated how you felt right now. This is Minho we’re talking about. The same man who texted his mom bursting with excitement when you agreed to go out on a date with him. She had shown you the very texts when you met her for the first time and you dont think youve ever seen Minho turn a deeper shade of red. The very same Minho that despite how much he loves watching horror films with you, insists on keeping his kitty plushie tucked into his side the entire duration of the movie. He claims it's to offer you comfort in case you felt afraid no matter how many times you assured him you weren't. The same Minho who would refuse to continue cooking dinner unless you joined him in wiggling his butt, emphatically stating that it was the only conditions he could work in. 

There were misconceptions about Minho that even some of his closest friends believed. That he was standoffish and closed off. That he had a cold personality or that he couldn't be sweet and outwardly loving. You knew those ideas to be untrue even after your very first date. You swear to this day that he had somehow captured all the stars in the night sky in his eyes that night. His eyes gleamed with excitement and the soft smile never left his lips.

 A month into your relationship you were surprised by just how affectionate he was (don't you dare ever mention it out loud though). Like clockwork every single day started with him latched around you in his sleep, his arms caging you against his firm chest and even his legs were locked around yours. Then while he made breakfast he would be sure to come and peck your forehead every few minutes while you watched him. When he would return from traveling away from home is when it was the most intense. He wouldn't even bother announcing his arrival before he was practically speed walking over to you and burying his face into your neck. He would stand there for a few minutes just inhaling your scent and gently rocking you back and forth before he would finally pull back enough to attach his lips to yours. 

The realization that Minho had always been comfortable enough to be completely himself and totally uncensored around you had your heart clenching almost painfully. Yet here you were, a grown woman, too embarrassed to admit you were on your period. But before you could allow your frustrations with yourself grow any stronger Minho calling your name softly brought you back to reality. 

“You're on your period?” You could sense the hesitation in his question, not wanting to make any sort of implications in the case that he was misreading what you said. 

Offering a hum in response, the internal battle in your mind continued as you were still feeling quite frustrated with yourself. You pushed yourself up off the floor and quickly washed up before reaching out to turn the water off. Wanting to finish this conversation while being able to at least look at your boyfriend, you dried off quickly and wrapped yourself in a towel. 

A frown made its way to your lips as you swung the bathroom door open only to be met with an empty hallway. 

“Min?” you called out for him but got no response. You shut the door once again and slowly began to get dressed, pulling on one of his sweatshirts that you always wore when he was away. You took your time applying your skin care and hair oils as you once again choked back tears. 

Dread was the next emotion you felt on today's emotional rollercoaster. Was he angry with you? Annoyed with how childish you had acted? Had he left? Or was he simply ignoring you as recompense for upsetting him?   

You exited the bathroom and on your way to the kitchen you stopped just around the corner as Minhos voice caught your attention. 

“...So when she gets out here you guys better help me out okay? We all have to do whatever we can to make her feel better. No slacking…I’m lookin’ at you Pudge.” 

Poking your head around the corner you were met with Minhos back as he unboxed what looked like takeout from your favorite place up the street. Your cats were gathered around his feet looking up at him expectantly. He was still in his practice clothes, the sweat stains prominent on the gray material of his t-shirt. Yet you still found him to be devastatingly handsome even from behind. As he began plating the food you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek between his shoulders. 

You felt him tense for a second before he turned around to face you, gently pushing you away from him. He was quick to mumble something about being all gross from practice before your brain could misinterpret his actions. Still, he carefully took your face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“I ran to grab you that food you've been craving all week.” He leaned to the side so your vision was met with all of your favorites spread out on your kitchen table. “I turned on your heating pad and grabbed your kitty plushie from your room… I figured we could watch a movie or something and I'll give you some back rubs after you finish eating?” There was a trace of nervousness in his eyes along with a bit of uncertainty. He was unsure what you wanted from him but he would do anything in his ability to make sure you were in the least amount of discomfort as you could be.  

His eyes nearly fell out of his head when you started sniffling in front of him, your pretty eyes quickly filling with tears.

“Nonono baby dont cry, we don't have to do any of that.” He brought you into his chest and rocked you gently attempting to soothe your crying. Your sobs broken up by the giggles that came from his quick change of plans. 

“That sounds perfect Min” You pulled back slightly to witness the relief that flooded his expression before he pressed his forehead to yours. “But only if you go shower first because you seriously stink” It was his turn to laugh as he scrunched his nose at you.

He pulled away to glance down at the cats that were still lurking by your feet. 

“Alright guys… You're up.”

[jinnie-ret]

perfect places

lee know x reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: alcohol, smoking

word count: 1.1k

summary: y/n never thought she'd be talking to a stranger til the sun rose, but it was better than feeling trapped at the local bar

This is a bit shit but oh well haha

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She really couldn't be bothered for a night out clubbing tonight. If you asked her a couple of years ago then she'd be up for it any day of the week, but now, she much preferred a cosy night indoors, wallowing about not knowing what to do with her life over a warm hot chocolate.

Well, she could do without the wallowing, but that was besides the point. Forced to go out clubbing with her friends, she was not designated driver, for none of them drove there, but she was designated responsible adult. She didn't know what she preferred more, drinking so she actually enjoyed herself, or not having to feel sick the next morning.

The bassy music was loud, and regretfully, she and her friends had only been there for about half an hour now. She knew this because she checked her phone.

"Y/N, outside!" her friends shouted over the music to her, all of them holding hands and connecting a chain to make it outside to the smoking area.

Ah, a moment of peace. A break for the ears.

Y/N rustled through her handbag for a cigarette before cursing when she realised she didn't have a lighter.

"Shit!" she huffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back against the wall, before her prayers were answered and a handsome guy stood in front of her with exactly what she needed.

"Need a light?" the guy smirked at her frustrated expression before offering her his lighter, curiously decorated with cat stickers.

"You're a Saint," Y/N exaggerated, gratefully taking the object and lighting her cigarette.

"Far from it, I'm Minho," he introduced himself, laughing lightly as the girl in front took a relieved sigh after a puff.

"I don't know I think I've seen that name in the bible somewhere," Y/N joked, happy to be talking to someone sober even if she was exhausted.

"Yeah, yeah," Minho laughed, "what's brought you out tonight then? Normally all the girls here end up off their faces hammered."

"You'd have to at a place like this. 'HooBAEs' is an awful name and an even more awful place," Y/N scrunched her nose whilst nodding back at the dodgy neon light. "Only good thing about it is the cheap drinks."

"Not taking advantage of them tonight then?" Minho quirked a brow, joining her in leaning against the wall as he smoked from his own cigarette, tilting his head back to look at her.

"Nah, I'm DRA. Designated Responsible Adult," Y/N sighed, looking over at her friend's who were drunkenly giggling and mingling with a group of boys that seemed their age.

"Tell me about it, I'm on NONSS duty. No one night stand shenanigans," Minho laughed, following where her eyes were looking.

They must be his friends.

"Awfully specific," Y/N commented.

"Very," Minho took another drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. "I'm bored, wanna ditch this place and-"

"Oh I'm not looking for that tonight. You're very nice but-" Y/N blushed, looking away from Minho.

"Woah, woah, hold your horses, you didn't let me finish. You do flatter yourself," he chuckled before standing on front of her, "what about we leave babysitting duty for tonight and find somewhere else to chat?"

"Hmmm, ok," Y/N shrugged and nodded, watching her intoxicated friends stumble back inside to the chamber of doom. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration but it really was the last place she wanted to be right now.

They walked for five minutes, peacefully taking in the night time air as Minho led them to a bench that overlooked the town.

"Wow, it's so peaceful," she glanced across at the little lights that lined the buildings.

"Better than that bar, right?" Minho nodded, taking a seat on the bench and patting the space next to him for Y/N to sit down.

"Want another?" Y/N passed a cigarette to Minho and they both proceeded to light them and sit in the quiet night air. "You know, I've never felt so calm before, it's so relaxing here."

"I come here all the time. It's a good place to think," Minho said as he stared out at the stars. He'd never felt so comfortable around a stranger but some reason he felt compelled to talk to Y/N.

"What do you like to think about?" Y/N leant back in the bench, tilting her head to the right to look at Minho.

"I try to think about what I wanna do in life," Minho sighed, "my parents wanted me to become a lawyer."

"Oh, booo, well, some like it but I couldn't," Y/N shook her head, "my parents wanted me to become a doctor, but all I wanna do is work with cats," she took another drag from her cigarette.

"I love cats too," Minho said, flicking the flame on his lighter on and off.

"Couldn't tell," Y/N laughed sarcastically looking at the cat stickers on the item.

Minho giggled shyly to himself as he rubbed his thumb across the stickers of his cats. The two them ended up chatting til sunrise basking in each other's company.

"Here, give me your phone," Y/N bravely and uncharacteristically spoke up, taking Minho's phone as he gave it to her with a raised eyebrow, leant back in the bench with his arms folded behind his head.

"Oh, you've got a text from 'Quokka' and it very drunkenly says... Hyung, where are you, Prince is off the rails," Y/N handed his phone back to him after putting her phone number in on it.

"Oh shit," Minho's eyes widened.

"Oh shit indeed, I swear Prince was dead, although that could just be your drunk Quokka friend-"

"We better get back, come on," Minho hurried her as they headed back to the bar, and when they got back, they saw all their friends stumbling out of the club.

"Hyungggg!" a guy waved Minho over.

"Y/Nnie!!!" her friends cheered her over.

"Where's Hyunjin?"

"Where's Minji?"

"Oh they went to f-"

"They left early."

"Come on, let's get you home," Minho grabbed who Y/N assumed was his Quokka friend by the arm.

"I better get you both home," Y/N sighs and gets her two friends to start walking with her.

"I'll text you!" Minho calls over his shoulder with a smirk, knowing full well that Y/N had put her number in his phone.

Y/N turned around with a shy smile, waving as Minho got his friend into a taxi as she did the same thing. They had met by chances but hopefully things would go somewhere, who knew she'd meet someone and like them instantly. Perhaps it was worth it coming out that night.

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top listeners: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist

[glassbxttless]

L&D Baby

Nurse!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: Steve and his wife are having their first baby— and it happens to be at the hospital he works at.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: 18+ (editing to add: no sexual themes, but I am literally an adult and do not want minors interacting with my content whatsoever), marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of a stillbirth, dad!steve, labor and delivery nurse!steve, blood/blood loss, swearing— as always let me know if there’s any tags i missed!

Notes: This is posted over on my ST blog ( @hellfirestxnes ). Once all of my content is moved over here— that blog will be inactive as my main objective is to have one space for myself!

Steve is tired. His bones are aching and his eyes are sore, but it’s just another Friday really. He has about half of his shift left and he’s off again, thankfully, until Monday. Leaning on the counter at the nurses station, listening to the other nurses gossip and share stories about their kids. And he’s thinking about you at home, sitting pretty and waiting for him to come home— belly swollen with his child. Any other day, he might tuck himself away and use the phone to call and check in, but today… he couldn’t face it. The first delivery he was on that morning, he watched a new mother wish with every fiber of her being that what the doctor was telling her wasn’t true. He cleaned up that baby, took their weight and height, made out the card for the parents that would never get to hear a cry. He bundled up gray, cold skin and hoped that the couple would be able to find peace. Somewhere deep down, he wishes he wouldn’t have heard them ask how did this happen? Everything was just fine this morning. But, now here he sits. Thinking about that delivery, thinking about his wife at home. His very pregnant wife. Your pregnancy has gone by so quickly, been such a breeze. He’s been to as many appointments as he could, especially the ones you were so worried about. But there’s always a reassuring answer of your baby being strong and healthy. A perfect little Harrington. And now, Steve’s never found himself more terrified. If everything can be fine and perfect one second and terribly tragic the next, he doesn’t know where to find his peace. He hangs his head against his hands for a few moments— taking a deep breath. He’s gotta get himself straight, take a few moments. But there’s hellos being exchanged a few feet away and after what seems like a millisecond, a hand is settling on his lower back. He snaps around, prepared to give the whole I’m married spiel he’s done a thousand times, he’s met with the beautiful eyes of his adoring wife. And that softens his features, he’s visibly relaxing.

You smile at him, as he tugs you into his grip. The hug lasts longer than usual and Steve loves hugging you. You rub his back and kiss his shoulder, “you forgot your lunch.” You whisper to him quietly, the bag in your left hand adorning a beautiful band that Steve had so carefully picked out himself. At your words, Steve’s grip just tightens a bit and he kisses your head, sighing out. “Do you wanna eat together?”

“Yeah, angel. Just about to take my break. come on.” he says quietly, leading you down to the cafeteria. He pulls out your chair and you can tell something is distracting him as he sits. He’s busying himself by passing out the food, but he’s quiet and normally— he isn’t. He asks about your day, tells you about his, has told you he loves you a dozen times by now. And he knows you’ve noticed, by the way his eyes flick up to yours and back down again. “I’m okay.” he says after catching the look on your face.

“You’re not.” you reply, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on, Steve? Can talk to me.” you reach over for his hand, thumb brushing over his own gold wedding band. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Steve sighs heavily, flipping his hand over to take yours gently. “The first birth I was on this morning was a stillbirth and I dunno… just had me thinking a lot.” He explains, his eyes dropping down to your belly across the table. You nod slightly, the hand that wasn’t entwined in his moves to your belly. You’re almost due and neither you nor Steve have ever had to worry about this. Never had it been a thought in your head.

“Just want you guys safe, is all.” Steve says softly and gives your hand a squeeze before he’s pulling it away to eat his lunch with you. And when it’s time for him to get back to work, you stand. There’s a dull ache that starts in your back and wraps around to your tummy, it lasts about 30 seconds as you clean up from lunch. You ignore it as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll see you at home, okay? Take it easy, rest.” He reminds you, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Yeah, okay.” You acknowledge him with a nod, before you feel another aching pain. But this time it’s accompanied by a slow trickle of fluid down your thighs. And when Steve notices where your eyes are falling, all of the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. He’s done this a thousand and ten times over the past few years. He’s consoled laboring mothers, he’s held their hands and cleaned them up, he’s been their support system. It’s his job. But here he is, with his own wife, frozen in his tracks. Your water broke and he can tell with the uncomfortable face you’re making the contractions have started as well. “Okay, angel… let’s… let’s get you checked in.” he says softly and suddenly, you’re more than thankful for the pre-registry packet Steve made you fill out last week. He holds your hand the entire time they check you in and get you into a room. He can hear his pager going off and he’d check it, every now and again, hoping one of the other nurses could pick up his patients, since he still technically was on his shift. But when he can’t put it off any longer, he kisses your head. “Listen, I’ll be right back okay? I’m not leaving you alone for this. I’ll be really quick.” he says softly.

You just nod, munching on the ice chips he had brought you not too long ago. You still feel like you have time. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. But Steve would throw a fit if they even tried to send you home and you know it. Steve smiles nervously when he wheels a cart into another expectant parent’s room. He introduces himself and shakes her husband’s hand when he extends it to him introducing themselves as, “Caleb and Connie Bear.” He's trying to keep the small talk up and keep himself calm— and not to think of his wife four rooms down. “Is this your first?” he asks softly, administering her medication.

“Oh no.” Connie laughs softly and shakes her head, “It’s baby number seven.” She pats her belly gently. Steve nods, a little lost in his own head. A mix of thoughts of the young couple a floor up with no baby to show, his wife laboring without him, and these friendly people working on their seventh baby. “It’s not as bad as you think.” she laughs, catching Steve’s face.

Steve laughs nervously and shakes his head, “oh no. it’s not that.” He smiles softly, “my wife and I wanted around six.” He shrugs, giving her a glass of water.

“You’ve got kids?” She smiles at him and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze as he adjusts her monitors. “You’re so young.”

“Uh… not yet.” He laughs softly and pulls her blanket back up over her. “My wife’s in labor now, actually. Not very far along yet and It’s our first, might have a while to go.” He rambled off nervously.

She smiles at him, a warm and comforting smile, and so does her husband. They remember those days. And Steve does find comfort in that smile. “These things take time.” She says softly, nodding at Steve. “but she’ll know what to do and I know you’ve seen a lot of babies being born but the minute you see yours, everything’s gonna change.” And Steve knows she’s right.

“Thank you.” he says softly. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.” he dims her lights a bit, sighing softly as he steps out of the room and walks over to his station to chart his notes quickly. When he looks up and sees his mother-in-law, that’s when his panic starts to set in. He’s hurrying around the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N called asking me to come, Steve.” She laughs, a sound that reminds him of you. “She knows you’re busy.” She gives his arm a pat and smiles at him. “She’s getting close, from what they’ve told her.”

“And she didn’t say anything to me?” Steve frowns, leading her over to your room. His face is knotted up in confusion when he looks over you. Your feet are planted on the floor, leaning over your bed. He sighs softly, knowing he should have been in here. He walks over, standing behind you to rub circles into your lower back.

“This is how we got into this situation.” You joke, face pressed against your sheets.

The response makes Steve chuckle, rolling his eyes, “oh hush. your mother is here.” He mumbles softly, rubbing your hips gently. “Where did they say you’re at, angel?” he asks softly.

“Eight.” You mumble back, letting yourself melt into Steve’s hands. They slide around to your belly, lifting gently and trying to keep the pressure off of your back in between contractions. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” You ask him, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. You can see the worry etched into his features. But once he sees the way your hair is sticking to your forehead and how flushed and clammy your skin is— he softens.

“A girl.” He says softly. “Gonna be just as pretty as you.” He whispers softly, helping you switch positions and lie back on the bed quietly. Steve’s head perks up as he sees one of his co-workers take a quick peek in. “What’s up?” he mouths over to her. He watches her point down to her belt, signaling to the pager Steve has forgotten.

He sighs and kisses your head once more, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm. “I’ll be right back again, okay sweetheart? Your mama’s here. gonna take care of you while I’m gone.” He says softly and squeezes your hand before he’s ducking out and heading down to the Bear’s room, pushing the cot along quietly.

Connie smiles tiredly, having opted for an epidural at the last stage of her labor. Steve’s ready at her thighs, ready to pop the baby up onto her chest. His own head is occupied with the thought of missing the birth of his own child while he welcomes another into the world. His shift would be over soon and then he’ll be sitting at your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you healthy and happy. Supporting you throughout the entire transition of your labor. Caleb rubs soothing circles on Connie’s arm as she pushes, and Steve takes note of the love in the room. How much the two of them lean on one another.

And Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when he’s reaching over her thighs, with their newborn boy laying on her stomach. He’s helping rub the baby dry, eyes flicking up to the delivering doctor when no one hears any cries for just a few more moments. And Steve whispers, panicked, but full of hope, “oh come on, kid.” No one hears him, but Connie— and her eyes are on him as Steve tries his fucking best to coax a cry out of the baby. Even after suctioning his nose and mouth. He remembers the heartbroken looks on that young couple this morning and he couldn’t take it again.

And finally there’s a sigh of relief when the little one lets out their first big wail. Steve smiles watching as Connie holds their baby to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She gives Steve’s hand a squeeze, her face silently thanking him. And then as he’s walking away to fill out a stats card for their baby, Steve hears his name followed by someone shouting time to push. And he’s running. He’ll check back in later, but he’s not missing his baby’s birth. You’ve got the rails of the bed in your hands, gripping tightly as you push— and he’s finding your side and brushing back your hair. “I'm here, angel.” He’s whispering through your tears. “I’m here. Look at you. You’re doing so good, mama.”

And it’s a whole new feeling when Steve hears a cry before he even sees the baby. He can see the blood on your thighs as they lift the baby up to place against your chest. The tears in your eyes are falling as you look up at Steve. And he just presses a kiss against your forehead, sniffling back his own years. “You did it, angel.” he mumbles softly.

“Congratulations.” You hear through your OB’s big smile. “It’s a boy.” And then Steve laughs, his smile pressed against your hair.

“It's a boy.” you repeat, fingers brushing against the back of your baby's fresh soft skin. The quiet grunts coming from him fill the room as he roots around trying to latch onto your breast quietly. “Joseph.” You whisper and turn to look up at Steve, remembering the perfect name the two of you had spent the last eight months curating. “Joseph Steven Harrington.” You announce to your mother quietly. And Steve feels himself tear up a bit.

Nothing has ever felt like this before in his life. And once you’re squared away, he makes sure to thank his coworkers quietly. Appreciating every second of them covering his ass tonight. They all congratulate him for the beautiful baby, passing out hugs and offering advice. And Steve soaks it in, every single word of it. Soaks it in like his life depends on it.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt

[joanyio]

weak hero class 1 rant because it’s 4am and im in my feelings and idk how else to deal with them *cracks knuckles* please don’t expect me to be coherent

it’s because of a twitter thread i made and i just wanted to elaborate more

if you didn’t click the link here’s what i said “this montage gets me every time because you realize sooho’s bright personality hid the fact that he was just as alone as sieun was, always sleeping at school for working part-time a lot, probably the reason why he had no friends, also refers to himself as the hyung with his peers. then the montage sequence ends with sieun being considerate, not turning the lights on like he did before and studying in the dark to not disturb sleeping sooho. the same day sieun wakes him up to have lunch together and they unexpectedly click.. in a way it was a friendship built from understanding how differently they lived but also similarly alone, and having each other made their lives a little brighter and i think that’s beautiful.”

also this hyunwook interview..

—

i can’t seem to stop overthinking about the little detail that sooho refers to himself as the hyung (형 - older brother) with his same-aged peers (동갑). in korea, age is a huge deal and it dictates most of their social cues, who to respect and how much respect is given. and i can just imagine how arrogant his peers might find him for referring to himself as the hyung, it’s like he acts all high and mighty amongst them.

am not puting all clips of him doing this but i remember the incident with baseball kids in the first ep he told them to bring the passed out dude to the nurse’s office and said “형이 이름 말하면 뒤진다,” literally means “if you say hyung’s (my) name, you’re dead.” (and they aren’t even his same-aged friends because someone murmured “but we’re older than him..” still, they’re high schoolers all the same) in ep 2 “형이라고 부르고싶냐?” literally means “do you wanna call me hyung now?” (or “do you wanna give me respect now?”) in ep 3 while playing pool he said “형이 하는거 잘 봐라,” literally means “watch carefully how hyung does (i do) it.”

[edit: i remembered another instance. in ep 1, yeongbin’s group bothering sieun again in the classroom. sooho was disturbed from his sleep, “why are guys so chatty these days? 형 잠도 못 자게. 형 자도 돼? 응?” literally goes “hyung (i) can’t even sleep (with u mfs being loud). can hyung (i) sleep? hmm?” official subs: “someone’s trying to sleep here. can i sleep in peace? please?”]

i think he does it because he knows he was forced to grow up fast due to his living situation, and in his eyes this made his same-aged peers /more/ childlike(?) and immature compared to him, who’s already grown up and has adult big boy responsibilities to worry about than silly little exams and high school social hierarchy. he’s extroverted and has a sunshine personality, blunt and honest to anyone he talks to. he always knows what to say to kids his age to feel shame for the bullshit they pull. even with older people, the baseball kids, to gilsu “나이 먹고 그게 자랑이야?”

so yeah sleeping a lot at school due to working part-time for hours may have contributed to him not having friends (hello he follows like 5 people in instagram, such a skinny ratio with his 1k+ followers) but also he probably found it hard to relate and saw no reason to put effort in hanging out with them outside inevitable campus interactions. until sieun. sieun who sooho calls a weirdo, who’s really interesting, whose eyes say how empty he must feel inside but you can see the fire in them. sooho probably thought sieun would never initiate a conversation with him but he did approach him for lunch that one time. and finds himself enjoying the company. now he grew to love showing sieun that there’s more to life than studying hard and preparing for college. it’s all mundane things, eating, gaming, karaokeing, playing pool, “let’s drive all night long,” friendship and the kind of company that their families and other people couldn’t give.

sooho’s all sun and bright but he hasn’t found his person until sieun came along. both of them were very self-sacrificial, ready to risk it all and harm anyone to protect each other. i might just forever ache for sooho ending up on his deathbed after going apeshit seeing sieun hide the injury he got on sooho’s behalf.. and sieun throwing away his whole future when he went and hurt everyone who did that to sooho..

it hits different after i read the equivalent chapters in the webtoon because the suho-sieun-focused friendship story was prolonged for the drama adaptation. sooho was kinda not that interesting in the webtoon so i loved everything they changed and added for his character in the drama. but also like im upset because now im endlessly attached to him.. [edit: in case i piss off webtoon!suho lovers, it’s a personal preference. i love him too but i just cant help but be more emotionally attached to drama!suho] like fuck why did they have to write such a tragic friendship story between highschoolers im fucking done

end of rant ugh i hate myself for this

[onskepa]

Please feed me boo- OKAY I’ve got a new delulu bout cute romantic dancing- so I wanna see tonowari dance with our dear reader at a festival or something. Let’s say that they’re already mated and that they’ve danced ever since they started dating (and hat if they met at a dance class for traditional dancing or smth?!?!?!) pleeeaaasseee I want that sweet dancing where everything else around them fades awayyyyyy

Feed my delusions pls

I gotchu gurl. Took me a bit, but I believe I got it down!

-----------------------

Sosul

[Credit goes to the artist]

Dusk came to the Metkayina clan, everyone wearing their best outfits. Women wearing their best jewelry, their hair done perfectly. The men, wearing their armor and woven clothing like arm bands. It was the night of rebirth. Where the young one's who passed their Iknimaya, the now young adults recently getting their new tattoos and a new bead in their song chords. It was a night for many. And feeling blessed by Eywa, they party to their hearts content.

Among the crowd stood the Ole'yktan and Tashik, Tonowari and his proud mate whom he teases to call, Sosul. They sat together, hands holding each other as they eat in peace. Another generation to bring a bright future to their flourishing clan.

"Ma' wari.....doesnt this bring you back to our youth?" sosul asked in a daze, reminiscing back to their Iknimaya. "We are still young ourselves yawne" he replies. "I know but.....seeing them.....reminds me how we began. Our paths leading to each other.....the trials and challenges, as hard as they were I was happy, to prove my worth to the clan and to you" sosul speaks as she looks at her beloved straight in his eyes. Sky blue meeting ocean blue eyes.

But their eye mating was cut, as a familiar rhythm began to play. The song of the hunt [not real I made it up] was being played. Sosul gasped in happiness. Quickly she grabbed tonowari's hand and began to pull him up. "ma'wari! lets dance!" she smiles so brightly.

As if caught in a spell, Tonowari was brought back to that special night. Their night of rebirth.

Young Tonowari lets young sosul pull him to the center of the gathering. Excited that they are now adults and can do whatever they want as their hearts desire.

"I'm coming, I'm coming" Tonowari says, happy to let his beloved take him wherever she wants. Feeling the rhythm of the drums and the chants, telling of young na'vi exploring and traveling in their journeys. Sosul and Tonowari felt the rhythm in their hearts and soul. Dancing they began, laughing and smiling. For now and forever more, do they only have eyes for each other and no one else. Trapped in their own world.

Arms holding, legs switching, tails swaying, hips moving, and eyes locked. Do Sosul and Tonowari truly move as one with each other, and one with the beat of the ocean. Their bodies molded for one another, holding each other, twirling and chanting as well with the lyrics. It truly was a song mean for them. Tonowari had never felt happier as he was in that moment. Having her close, he could smell the lovely scent of the distant ocean. Calming and brining him peace and tranquility. And sosul enjoying having her moment with the one she loves. His broad and might built, his scent that of the smooth sand and salt from the sea. Enjoy everything of him and all of him.

For No one else mattered, only each other. It always has been and always will be in their future years and after.

Sosul = pleasant smell of nearby water running, rain, moist vegetation.

And that is it for this one! hope you all like it! until next time!

[flagellant]

Hey, this is a weird and heavy question that could land you in hot water no matter which direction you answer in, so feel free to just ignore me, it's not imperative that you answer or anything. But I don't have a lot of kink-positive (or frankly sex-positive) people that I trust and you seem to have put a lot of time and work into that kind of stuff (or maybe it just comes naturally to you! Regardless, I value your opinion).

I don't know how to make my peace with age regression as a kink, or if I even need to. I've done a lot of unlearning when it comes to a sanitized, puritanical mindset that I was raised with. My general opinion now is "if no one's in danger of getting hurt just leave it be". But I can't help but see people who participate in age regression as a huge red flag- depending on their role in the situation. If I'm friends with someone and they tell me they have a "little" persona or whatever sure that makes me internally cringe but mostly I just feel bad for them because they almost always have trauma. (Baby talk makes me wanna barf but maybe that's a me problem). But when I learn that someone is into people who essentially act like a child or a baby in the bedroom, I'm gonna run for the fucking hills. That just seems like a giant red flag to me- if someone is able to get into a mindset where they can be sexual with someone who's acting like a child, I have a hard time feeling okay around that person.

I know you're no professional, and I'm not here to get validation. Like I said, I just value your insight and I'm wondering if you can introduce me to a new way of thinking about this. Am I wrong to write off someone for a sexual preference as long as it's technically between two consenting adults? Should I be challenging my thinking?

If you do take the time to answer this, know that I appreciate you so much. If you can't answer, I hope you have a good day anyways.

I feel as though relatively often there is confusion when it comes to the idea of kink positivity with regards to this sort of context. It can seem confusing or even impossible, because there are those who act as though being kink positive is the same thing as being personally anything-goes, fetishwise. It's just a matter of vocabulary--we hear "kink positive" and logically assume "we need to feel positive about this kink", right?

Except that's really not the case, no more than landback as a movement demands for creating native american ethnostates by "giving all the private property of america back". The reality is always a bit more complex.

For your specific example of age regression as a kink, it's a pretty common sentiment to just not like it and not want to engage with it. I feel that way--it isn't a matter of value or moral, it's just something that on a personal level I don't like and want nothing to do with.

But the key part of kink positivity is that I need to recognize that I can not be into something without making it a moral judgement on those who are. As you say: If the people involved are all consenting adults, it isn't my place to pass judgement or tell them how to live their lives so long as no one is getting hurt. I need to trust that as adults, they are capable of handling their own sex lives without my intervention. It is not my place to butt in and tell people that because I find their kinks gross that they need to watch out for red flags, any more than it would be anyone else's place to do the same to you.

Anon, you seem to be sort of trapped halfway. You are capable of understanding what kink positivity is supposed to be, but you're not--and forgive me if I'm wrong--really willing to seriously examine what "supposed to be" means when your personal tastes are being challenged. You're saying you're not asking me for validation, but you are asking verbatim "Am I wrong to write off someone for sexual preference as long as it's between two consentint adults?".

I don't really feel like I need to clarify the answer on that, Anon. I'll just point out that you should imagine how you would feel if someone wrote you off morally for one of your sexual preferences when it takes place between yourself and other consenting adults, and whether or not you feel the justifications you'd make against that person could be meaningfully different than the ones someone who participates in age regressions would make to you.

At the end of the day, framing it internally as "It seems like a red flag" is just a way to frame your reaction as morally superior. It is a way of saying "I'm not judging this badly because I don't personally enjoy it, I'm trying to help people. Them doing this is dangerous and I need to be involved and even be against them doing this for their own good". It is the same pearl-clutching Puritan thinking as any fundamentalist Christian would, and it leads to the same thing: Telling full-grown adults that how they have sex between themselves is fundamentally wrong and that your dislike at the very idea of them partaking in it takes priority over their ability to partake in it at all.

I'd suggest asking yourself whether or not you feel as though you'd be respected if someone approached you and told you that, yes, they understand that you're a fully grown adult consenting to sex in this manner, but they don't trust your ability to consent because it seems to them as though there's red flags involved and therefore they DO have a right to get involved in your sex life. For your own good, of course. It isn't your fault that you're into something bad like this. You're traumatized. It's just that people who want to have sex with you are actually taking advantage of you and hurting you, and you just don't know it because you're traumatized, so it's up to other people to tell you how you should and shouldn't have sex and who you shouldn't have sex with.

[teenandbeyond]

Shoto. T x Fem. Black Ex Villain Reader

 🎶Guess who's back? Back again. Guess who's back, guess who's back— 🎶 Edit: Lemme know if y'all want more oneshots on their lovestory and such (50 notes if you want a back story, if you pass it by even one, I'll give you a backstory and a smut if you want it.)

The prequel, part 2 is out! Here.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Rainy Days

Warning(s): Fluff, (hints at suggestive language) adult Shoto

You and Shoto's dating life after you leave your villianous past behind.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When you wake up, the first thing you see is hetrochromatic eyes already looking at you.

"Good Morning, [Name]."

"G'Mornin," you mutter into a pillow (his intense gaze with no preparation led to you resetting there).

"Your sleep talking is cute every time."

"Ony yud tink tat (Only you'd think that)." You finally turn to meet his eyes, "Want breakfast?"

He nods, "I've been hungry for a while."

You groan as you roll out of the bed, shuffling on some slippers, "Why didn't you wake me up sooner, Sho?"

"You looked peaceful. I could wait," as he got up to follow you, he re-tied his pajama pants.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you yawned, grabbing all the dishes you needed robotically; it was like a seamless routine.

Shoto made himself helpful and helped grab ingredients (which also subtly hinted at what he wanted).

Once everything was set out, he obediently sat at the kitchen island and watched you.

At this point, you'd taught him a little about cooking...but Shoto couldn't be awesome at everything.

After years of teaching him, he'd only managed to master eggs, toast, tea, and cutting vegetables on a good day.

The minute he started your playlist, you sang along like it was your duty as an R&B nerd.

And as he watched you in your element in his kitchen, he felt glad that you were given another chance.

His gaze went down your figure, from your blindingly beautiful smile and plump lips that he could never stop finding attractive no matter how much time passed...

To your hips that swayed with your head to the music; your legs that he loved to hold and have around his—

"Why're you looking at me like that?"

His eyes slid up to meet yours, "I just...I glad that you're with me. I love you."

You didn't know how those three words still managed to fluster you after years.

You smiled, "I love you, too. Wanna try this? See if there's too much seasoning for you?"

Shoto chuckled, "I've been with you long enough to handle some seasoning by now, [Name]."

But he didn't object to being fed, of course he didn't. He loved your soul food no matter what time of day it was.

He was glad that the others weren't here to see this time, sometimes the whole 'you two are a married couple' teasing would get on his nerves.

Let him get spoiled from his Queen in peace.

As he thoughtfully chewed, you kissed his forehead and got back to work.

"Should we go out today?"

"You might want to wear more than just my shirt before we do that."

You rolled your eyes, "Obviously. I hate to see what you'd do if anyone else saw me like this but you."

He stared at you in silence for a long time, you didn't realize he was until you placed the plate in front of him.

Not a twitch.

"Shoto?"

"Hm?" he blinked back to reality. (Oh, there goes gravity.)

"You okay?"

"I was thinking about what I'd do...Probably not the best thing to happen."

You weren't any less confused as he got to eating.

"What does that mean—?”

"—It'd be better if you didn't know."

Well, okay then...

"Besides, it's raining. There's nowhere to go."

Only now did you notice the rain pounding on the window.

"And on your day off, too..."

You felt fingers intertwine with yours before lips brushed against your knuckles.

"That's okay. We don't need to go out for me to enjoy time with you. Last night, for example—"

"—Anyway. We could watch a movie or binge a show."

"If we get to cuddle, deal."

Cuddling was admittedly Shoto's favorite form of physical affection with you.

He loved the way your head fit perfectly in the crevice of his shoulder and head.

He loved the smell of your shampoo while your hair brushed his cheek.

He loved that the curve of your body fit into his, he loved your warmth.

He loved the little whispers of love and affection passing your lips.

He loved the soft neck kisses.

Your nails grazing his back.

He loved your random muttering in English, hearing the slang he understood, the slang he didn't.

He loved the intimacy, he loved how close he could be to you. The pure affection. Something he'd craved for a long time.

He loved the vulnerabilty.

He loved what it represented, the first time the two of you cuddled after a long night of talking.

He loved the trust. The safety.

He loved cuddling with you because you were truly his home.

He needed you.

Absentmindedly, he began to kiss your neck as he went deeper into thought.

More than he realized sometimes.

His friends made him learn what friendship was.

But you taught him what love was like.

"S-Shoto?"

He handn't realized his hands had traveled.

"Yes?"

"What happened to inocently watching the movie?"

He smiled into his shirt, "I never said anything like that...besides, what else is there to do to repay you for the breakfast?"

Ahhh.

Shoto loved rainy days.

[missmastectomy]

Hey, detrans woman here. I'm a little down right now and don't have someone to talk about my issue. If you don't wanna read this or answer it's okay. I don't want to trigger you.

Sooo... my issue right now is that I want to have "my body" back? I went under hormone therapy and of course my voice got deeper, i got an showing Adam's apple, more body hair etc. And I was very happy when this happened, like I finally was myself and I could live more happy now and would be more confident. I was kinda right because for some time it was like this but after some years I recognized I was running from something. At first I didn't knew what it was but the more time passed the more I realized it was a lot of unsolved trauma and not the right help. Neither from my family nor from doctors but I don't blame them. My family didn't knew it better and they just tried their best. The doctors actually didn't really focused on the topic and just gave me hormones asap. But still I would say they didn't knew it better? Sometimes I think that's just what I want to think and the truth may seem be more egoistic. I got operations like "a higher voice", "a smaller Adam's apple" and even a region I don't wanna talk about. I got these operations because I wanted to get "my old body" back. Like how my body would have been of I hadn't take these hormones but it still doesn't feel right... I'm okay with the body hair because if it does annoy me or let me feel down I can shave it but now my boobs are the problem? It's confusing because I never wanted to have them and wanted 110% a mastectomy but know I'm like "if I hadn't took those hormones they would have grown a little more" and I actually like that my boobs are small and I don't want them to be bigger or get surgery to match beauty standards. I'm just sad that I'll never know how they would look if I never had the hormones and it's feeling like a part of myself I never get to know. It was almost the same with my voice but that one was more triggering and it still does because my voice is higher but clearly not what it would've sounded and I'm just sad that I never get to see my body how it was meant to be. I just feel like someone who has messed up their body...

If you're still here. Thank you for reading and have a wonderful time <3

Hey anon, not triggered at all. I do not mind getting these kinds of asks or detrans questions in general.

I have a similar experience with my body. I will not ever know what my body would have looked like as an adult because I transitioned as an adolescent. It is a frustrating and quite frankly sad process to go through, but ultimately it's just one of those "unknowns" that we have to live with and make peace with.

Our ideal body image changes so much as we age. I think it's very understandable that you wanted no breasts, especially since it sounds like you transitioned young. This is a time where a lot of girls are struggling and often want to hmm. desex ourselves in a way. It's hard enough becoming an adult, but arguably often more difficult for girls because of the sexualization aspect of it all.

Not sure if you're looking for advice or venting, but I am helped by this by remembering that there is nothing I can do to get my old body back. What's done is done and there's no use crying over spilled milk, as they say. But the grief is understandable and it's important to let yourself feel it. Allowing yourself to heal and forgiving yourself for past mistakes, or your parents' mistakes even, helps a lot.

As for these doctors, I know what you mean when you say you don't want to blame them. Many are well-meaning, but honestly? The onus is absolutely on them. These are professionals who ignored basic medical and moral principles when working with you as a child. They absolutely SHOULD have known better. I've said it before and I'll say it again - no matter the intent, these doctors are still doing immeasurable harm to an entire generation of young people, because they got swept up in this ideology or they are too afraid to question their patients. We must hold them to a higher standard.

You say they gave you hormones ASAP. With any other problem, a doctor that rushes through the medical process for the sake of validating a patient's diagnoses without the proper screening would be condemned by the medical community. Rightfully so. It is up to you to determine whether you want to forgive them or not, but know that you don't need to. It is OK to be angry at professionals with poor judgement that culminated in a traumatic experience for you. I have seen many detrans people (women especially) do this. Because someone wasn't malicious, we try to excuse their actions. But there is no excuse for this level of reckless malpractice.

I hope you are doing well and continue to heal <3

[jackyandjackster]

-BeWITCHed-

Undertale Au Ideas full of witches!

Feel free to use them or whatever!

(Yes they're incomplete strories i couldn't finish)

"Sold my soul for a friend!"

Story follows Ink as a witch who's been lonely for thousands of years, the world had been revolving through war and peace. Many people he used to love had died due to war, sickness, sadness or old age. Because of this he decided to seclude himself from any mortal, only a few select witches like himself can visit him. Years passed, he grew bored and lonely, other witches don't really visit since they have their own lives. Ink as the ever so bored and sad witch decided to get an old book she found before secluding himself and sold his soul to the devil for a companion! An immortal, never dying companion non other than Error the cat! This particular cat can talk, do magic, help Ink and other cool stuff! With no more sadness and grief bothering Ink's mind and a brand new companion at that, he became carefree and re explore the world once again!

Bonus info:

-Ink is short that many misunderstood him as a kid.

-Error loves spooking children and adults. He can become a literal shadow and most of the time possesses Ink's shadow so Ink can move for him.

"Headless witch"

Error was born in a family of witches. he was an immortal who lived in a small cottage in the middle of the forest, although small for outside it was a castle inside! Of course he can shift inside of the house to look like a regular cottage for lost strangers, he still prefers large space because of how messy he is and he tends to keep random trinkets he finds when visiting a human village.

He made friends and great memories but like all mortals do they die and wither away, he wasn't depicted nicely either on books or folklore and was often being 'hunt' down and getting burned in a stake. Grief, sadness and betrayal fill his soul, he created a 'memorial' for those he once loved, it grew over the years and it hurts to see but he can't help but visit every day and cry.

He became cold and stoic to mortals, he doesn't wanna get close to any mortals anymore. He doesn't wanna experience the sadness and betrayal all over again. But he couldn't help it, a lost mortal soon found their way to his cottage, he was so kind and friendly, Swap was him name, they became best friends over the years but due to old age Swap died, and the memorial had another addition. He was so heartbroken and sade that he couldn't stop crying! Strings of tears continued to flow over the years and having enough of it Error cut half of his skull of but those damned eyes won't stop crying either way!

He made a special room for the half skull in witch automatically makes the strings into a ball, something like a yarn winder. But soon the room was flooded with plenty of string balls and he grew very annoyed and decided to throw his half skull on the far away lands in which the witch of darkness reside, Nightmare. The witch was very annoyed of Error, as strings flooded the pit of darkness, the problem was sold when Error brought back his skull back and re used the winder. The witch of darkness grew curious of him over time and follows him and soon became friends with him.....(idk what goes next)

(Inspired by a donghua called "brainless witch)

"Get my annoying brother away from me!"

Witch of dreams, Dream lives with non other than the king of darkness and vampires, Nightmare his older brother. On the outside they have a stone cold and rough relationship. Nightmare a stoic, stone cold and terrifying king and Dream the cold and science/alchemist maniac who loves to experiment on mortals.

Although in reality, Nightmare is a drunk lord who gets clingy to Dream for no reason, and Dream loves experimenting woth alchemy to discover hidden and unknown things! For knowledge of course, Nightmare is annoying to say the least always drunk in his brother's lab, one of the reason why rumors started that Dream was experimenting on Nightmare everytime he catches him. Nightmare is also very very lucky for some reason, people often misunderstood him to the point he somehow became a king! Darkness overlord?! More like Drunkness Overlord!

Stealing alcohol on chapels because apparently it has 'divine' taste. Dream doesn't know if that's a god-damned pun or he's just fucking with him or he's serious. (┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌)

(anyone can use as long as they ask for perm. Idc if I'm credited or not)

[starrook]

"Alcryst! Happy birthday."

Of the many days documented and marked on his schedule, this was one he had been looking forward to most. Another year that his brother was in good health, flourishing and growing into the wonderful person Diamant knew he was meant to be. The peaceful world he envisioned was finally in reach.

The long war with Elusia had come to an end, the Fell Dragon was gone...

And his little brother was even in a new relationship! At the thought, Diamant smiles. Things were truly looking bright.

"How about we go out to eat after classes?" His hand comes to rest on his brother's back, with a hearty pat. "There's a tavern that recently opened in town, owned by a group of seafaring settlers. I hear the seafood is delectable, and the drink even better."

He knows how he... responded to Alcryst's behavior at the ball, but it was a new year. And a much younger brother, but still, an older one. If Diamant was at least there to keep an eye on him...

"Food and drinks will be on me, of course. I'm sure you'll have other matters to attend to today, and other faces to see, so... what do you say?"

Alcryst’s eyes go bright with excitement at the mention of seafood. That, combined with Diamant’s hearty slap on the back, encourages him to stand straight, chest puffed up in rare pride. He ought to act more like the adult Diamant expects him to be by now. Alcryst also eyes the top of his brother’s head, comparing their heights. As time passes it became clear Alcryst will never outgrow his big brother, but with the growing he’s done these past few years he hopes the difference won’t be so noticeable.

“That sounds good.” With the weather is getting warmer, Alcryst imagines the fish are becoming more active, getting ready to spawn the next generation. “Let’s do it! And don’t worry about me, brother. I wanted to hang out with you today anyways! I think Dad also wanted to do dinner, but it’s nice to spend some time together. Though, that said…” His brows furrow, worried. “Um, I know you’re not crazy about seafood. I really don’t mind if you wanna go someplace else! I know it’s my birthday and all, but you should enjoy yourself too.”

[tdoong15]

Can you do jeonghyo as a parents of twice girl and they give birth to baby tzuyu and her sister namosamidubchaeng exited to meet their new newborn sister

Hello of course I will, this sounds really sweet.

New Addition

Jihyo was sitting on the couch with Jeongyeon. Today is hopefully the day that they welcome the newest addition to the family, for the time being they are relaxing and mentally preparing themselves in case anything bad or good might happen. That was until their eldest daughter, Nayeon, came running over to them. “Mama when is sissy coming?” Nayeon asks curiously like any 6 year old would be. “Hopefully very very soon Nay.” Jihyo says with a wide smile on her face, Nayeon then decides to take it upon herself to talk with the baby by pressing her face right up to Jihyo's stomach

“Ello sissy come already Mom and Mama both look tired because of you.” Nayeon says in a more commanding way and although the pregnancy did have a role in making Jihyo and Jeongyeon not sleep much the main reason for their lack of rest was running around dealing with 6 children at night but they wouldn't change it at all except for having another child. “Wow I think you've really helped Mama and the baby right there Nay.” Jeongyeon praises Nayeon and she claps her hands. Nayeon grins and she happily skips away, she was glad because she could help.

“I think we should message Jennie and Jisoo so they can look after the girls whilst we're at the hospital, but they can come in once the baby is born” Jeongyeon suggested which Jihyo immediately agreed to. “Yes that's a great idea, dear, I'll message Jennie right now” Jihyo took out her phone and she scrolled down until she saw Jennie's name.

You: Jen, can you and Jisoo look after the girls whilst I'm at the hospital with Jeong? Please.

Jendeuki🐻: I no no wanna :(

(This is Lili :3)

You: Lisa could you pass your phone to you momma because if she says yes, you and Rosie can play with your friends over here.

Jendeuki🐻: Sorry, gave Lisa my phone earlier because she wanted to watch the Aristocats. Anyway, Jisoo and I are more than happy to take care of the girls.

You: Great, thanks a lot Jen.

Jihyo looks over at Jeongyeon with a smile and she starts to talk. “Okay so Jennie and Jisoo can look after the girls whilst we're away at the hospital and before you say it there's no bad news.” Jeongyeon nodded her head as she listened to Jihyo talk. “Well, do you know what time they'll be here?” Jeongyeon questions, she was being extra cautious because she didn't want to leave their kids on their own. “Yeah they'll be here soon, don't worry too much.” Jihyo reassures Jeongyeon her voice was soft and calming.

20 minutes later, Jennie and Jisoo arrived with Lisa and Rosé who were both bundles of excitement. Jeongyeon stood up and she unlocked the door for the 4 people. Lisa and Rosé bolted into the house looking for the girls but mainly Mina. “Hi guys, we're so glad that you could make it!” Jeongyeon hugs both Jennie and Jisoo. “Well of course we would want to take care of them, even though we're outnumbered.” Jisoo explains with a laugh, Jennie and Jeongyeon laugh alongside Jisoo.

Jihyo soon joined them when she heard the laughter at the front door. “Look at you, you're absolutely glowing right now.” Jennie compliments Jihyo before hugging her. “Thank you, I can say the same thing to you.” Jihyo returns the hug happily. The four adults chatted for a while before Jeongyeon spoke up about something else. “I think we should get to the hospital now, it's better to be safe, you know.” Jeongyeon held Jihyo's hand and the couple walked out of the door and to their car.

Jihyo and Jeongyeon safely made it to the car and Jeongyeon was the one who was driving to the hospital since it was more ideal in comparison to having Jihyo drive, the drive was mostly peaceful until Jihyo's water broke which made Jeongyeon press down on the accelerator, it was to the point that she probably went over the speed limit for wherever she was but it was worth it because they were able to reach the hospital quite quickly. Meanwhile back at the house, it was pure chaos, Jennie and Jisoo were running around the house trying to stop the girls from doing anything dangerous. “Dahyun don't eat that.” Jisoo took the marble out of Dahyun's tiny hands. “Lisa, Momo, Mina don't have a dance competition on the table” Jennie picks up Lisa and Mina which she gently placed on the floor, she them had the challenge of running around the table to catch a hyper Momo, thankfully Jisoo came and she was able to get Momo on the floor.

The peace didn't last long though Jennie went to deal with Chaeyoung and Rosé who were decorating the walls with markers, it took her a long time but she was able to get them to draw on A3 paper instead of the walls, Jennie just hoped that she wouldn't be killed by either Jeongyeon or Jihyo. Jisoo's experience was more calm in comparison to Jennie's experience since she only had to deal with Sana who was rummaging through her mom's makeup bags, it didn't take long for Sana to notice Jisoo's presence in the room mainly because she looked up and saw Jisoo looking at her. “Aunty JiJi can I make you extra pretty? Pleaseeee.” Sana asks pleadingly, she even gave Jisoo puppy dog eyes which nobody could say no to. So with that, Jisoo got a makeover.

5 hours later Jennie got a message from Jeongyeon that she and Jihyo now officially have their newest member to their family and that the girls can come over to the hospital and visit them. Jennie then rallied up all of the girls alongside Jisoo and they were surprisingly able to get them all into a car without much hassle, the same thing can't be said for the ride though. Nayeon was placing numerous clips into Jennie's hair, making her hair look crazy whilst all of the children were loudly singing songs, except for Chaeyoung who was just babbling random words.

When they eventually reached the place where Jihyo and Jeongyeon were at, Jisoo turned around and faced all of the girls. “Okay guys when we get in here we need to be quiet because we don't want to upset your baby sister. That also includes you two Lisa and Rosé even if she's not your sister we still don't want her to cry.” Jisoo placed her finger to her lips and all of the girls copied her, they all then walked inside and went over to Jeongyeon and Jihyo. When Jihyo and Jeongyeon saw the massive congregation of two adults and 9 children they both simply smiled. “Hi guys, meet baby Tzuyu. She's your little sister.” Jihyo looks at the baby in her arms. Nayeon, Momo, Sana and Mina all gathered around to try and see Tzuyu and when they did they all gasped in a happy shock. The reaction made Chaeyoung and Dahyun whine loudly because they also wanted to see their little sister. Which they were able to do thanks to Jeongyeon who had picked them up. They were both in awe of their little sister and Chaeyoung was excited that she was now an older sister.

Hello I return with another fic. I hope you all have an amazing day, night, or afternoon.

[waffliesinyoface]

This is completely unedited, but im still posting it.

The training grounds were peaceful after sunset. Konoha had enough of them that it was never hard to find an empty one, but most shinobi preferred waking up early and training in the morning.

Hasami stifled a yawn. Just her luck that even her insomnia had persisted across reincarnation. She'd gone home after finishing the latest D-rank mission, eaten an early dinner, and promptly passed out on the couch. What she'd intended to be a quick powernap had lasted for five *hours* instead of twenty minutes. Which meant she had absolutely no chance of going *back* to sleep unless she'd gone out and actually done something.

Well, hasami mused, at the very least, odd hours were almost seen as a virtue among ninja. Missions outside the village didn't exactly keep a strict schedule, after all.

Hasami looked at the sky. She hadn't thought to bring a watch, but judging by the position of the moon it was... probably around 1:30? So she'd been training for nearly 4 hours. Light exercise, by ninja standards.

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She'd meant to just head home. She really did. But training meant working up an appetite, and without thinking, her feet had lead her to the shopping district.

Most shinobi, when given the choice between another night camping or pushing for a couple more hours and sleeping in their own bed, opted for the latter if they could help it. More than a few food stands and izakaya had taken notice - a ninja returning home late was also a ninja who had been out in the field for quite some time, and had been eating nothing but wild game and ration bars. The owners didn't even need to advertise.

One such restaurant was Ichiraku Ramen.

Prior to her reincarnation, Hasami had wondered if Ichiraku was really that good, or if Naruto had liked it because nobody there had ever thrown him out. She had to see for herself, right?

She'd gotten hooked immediately.

Ichiraku had turned out to be one of those shabby little hole-in-the-wall restaurants that never went out of business because it honestly was just that good. As far as Hasami was concerned, Teuchi was a national treasure.

It also didn't hurt that exercise meant sweating, which meant her body was really, really craving salt. She had no choice, really. Hands were tied.

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"Not that we don't appreciate the business, Hasami-chan, but is it really alright for you to be out so late?" Ayame honestly looked a little concerned. "You're young, you should be in bed by now."

Hasami tried her hardest not to be annoyed. She used to be an adult, so she understood where Ayame was coming from, because if she had seen a twelve year old kid wandering around at nearly two in the morning, she also would have been concerned. But because of that, it also meant that being treated like a child had gotten old quickly. It'd lessened once she got her hitae-ate, but she still got looks sometimes. Unfair.

"I just got caught up with training, is all. Don't worry about it, I can take care of myself." She was perfectly aware that she sounded like an actual overconfident twelve year old but that didn't make it any less true. She was armed. Potentially dangerous, even.

Ayame smiled. "No, no, I don't mean like that. I'm sure you're very capable Hasami-chan." She then leaned forward and started to whisper conspiratorially, "But if you don't get enough sleep, you'll never hit your growth spurt, you know~? It's important if you wanna grow big and strong!"

Hasami's annoyance rapidly shifted to mortification. Oh no. Oh god. Why. This was actually incomparably worse than Ayame being concerned for her safety. She quickly slurped down the remainder of her noodles to avoid responding. "ThanksForTheMealIGottaGoNowBye!!" She slapped down the money on the counter and ran off in what she did her best to pretend was a dignified manner.

"Good niiiight, Hasami-chaaan~!"

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Hasami: *sees ayame* oh shes obviously An Adult seeing me like a child, ughhh

Ayame: *is actually 17*

Ayame: *big sister instincts activating* what if i teased her, for fun