#these ones still do a little but not nearly as much and they still look so cool

[shouyuus]

more college roommate hcs?? maybe reader tries to tease vi back for bein shirtless all the time which eventually leads to them getting together??

18+ (no sex, just a$$ and tiddies), mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

you have taken to walking around in your underwear.

and at first, vi wonders if she's losing it a little bit, because she's pretty sure you haven't always been like this. no. if anything, in the past couple of months, you'd been strangely... jumpy. and sure it'd been fun to tease you (walking around with her top off all the time just to get a rise out of you made something warm nudge at the base of her belly) but she doesn't think you're the kind of person to hold a grudge.

(she's been wrong in the past though, and vi thinks that it wouldn't be the worst thing to be wrong about this either.)

at first, it looks like an accident, her waking up to you humming, making breakfast like you do, an earbud tucked into your ear, barefoot in the kitchen, sprinkling salt onto the scrambled eggs. but her eyes skate down the length of your body and her breath dies in her lungs as she realizes you're in nothing but a thin spaghetti strap top and baby blue panties. her eyes catch on the lace trimming against the soft of your skin and she swears her thoughts melt into something akin to tv static.

"uh --"

"oh! hey! breakfast is almost ready -- you don't have morning practice today, right?"

"no... i uhm -- i don't..." she blinks several times before tearing her eyes away from your very bare legs, fighting the urge too shake her head like a dog trying to clear it's ears of water.

"cool! oh, i think there's some orange juice left in the fridge, can you grab it?" you turn back to the pan with a bright smile, humming to yourself.

vi swallows, "yeah sure, princess --" she turns toward the fridge, feeling oddly robotic as she opens it to grab the juice jug. all her hairs startle to attention as you lean over the counter, reaching up into the cupboards for a plate, the motion making your already tiny tanktop ride up, a sliver of skin winking at her from above the waistband of your panties.

she nearly drops the juice jug.

three days later, she comes home to the damp cling of steam in the air. frowning, she drops her duffle and wanders towards the bathroom, where the shower's clearly just been turned off, but the door's wide open. and there you are, standing in the steam-ridden bathroom, in nothing but a bra and panties, toweling dry your hair.

"whoa -- sorry --"

"hm? oh! you're home! nice -- i was gonna ask if you wanted to come out to dinner -- i think mel found a really cute wine bar she wanted to try --"

vi stares; she can't help it. you're in a matching set, and even though it's nothing fancy, it still makes her brain feel oddly liquid as she watches your tits bounce slightly in the semi push-up bra.

"wine... bar?" vi asks, her voice slurring slightly even to her own ears.

your eyebrows hitch, a tiny smile tucked into the corner of your mouth as you cock your head.

"yeah, it's pretty close to that one hotdog joint you like so i figured i'd ask."

you make no move to cover yourself up, and distantly, vi thinks that a few months ago, you would've never showered with the doors open.

"sure i -- i'm down -- uh -- is anyone else coming?" vi asks, somehow forcing eyes away from your cleavage. you reach up to hang the towel by the door, dropping back down on your heels.

vi's eyes snap back to the way your tits just bounced.

(what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?)

"-- probably jayce, but other than that no one... vi?"

"huh?" she jerks back slightly, eyes slingshotting back up too meet your gaze. and this time, she sees it -- a flicker of something so very much like mischief caught in the light there before you're laughing, light and airy.

"nothing just... you seem a little out of it. everything okay?"

you squeeze by her into the hallway and she barely catches the way her own eyes trail the shape of you towards your room, the round of your ass cheeks caught in the simple black panties you're wearing.

"yeah -- just..." she swallows, her mouth suddenly very, very dry.

"a long day?" you offer, twisting around to glance at her over your shoulder half a second before you bend down to rummage for a dress in your chest of drawers.

vi feels a curse bubbling out of her --

"holy fuck --"

"hm?"

"no, nothing! i -- i'm gonna shower before we go."

"sure! i washed your towel for you today, so it's fresh," you say, seemingly unperturbed as you finally disappear into your room, though you still make no move to close the door.

"great, t-thanks princess! really... appreciate it..." vi lets her voice trail off into a soft grumble as she nudges the bathroom door closed with an arm and tugs her sweaty practice clothes off. her foot catches something by the bathtub, and she looks down to find a lacy thong with a bright pink butterfly ribboned in the front.

it takes her four whole seconds before she's reaching down to pick it up and hold it to the light. it's not her's, and it's been months since she's brought a hookup home (not since she's started to imagine you between her legs every time she tries to get off with someone else), so -- by elimination it has to be --

yours.

"sweet fuck."

it only gets worse after that -- she'd come home to find you sat on the couch in a veritable fortress of notes and textbooks, in a crop-top and heart-patterned undies, or walk by your room just in time to catch you tugging off your top, your back to the door (thankfully, vi doesn't know if her heart could take it if she saw you fully with your top off --)

"is our ac broken or something?" she asks one day, frowning at the wall controls. you look up, frowning slightly, a highlighter caught between your fingers, as you sit cross-legged on at the dining table, one of her shirts sloping off your shoulder (but you've tied the bottom up with a rubber band so it sits above your abdomen, cutting off right above where a pair of dark red lacey panties is oh so visible underneath).

"hm? no -- why?" you sound distracted, your eyes falling back to your notes.

vi blinks at you.

"you never wear pants anymore."

you freeze, your fingers poised over a line of miniscule text, the highlighter hovering above the page.

when you look up again, there's a fox-fire gleam to the dark in your irises, and a grin that would've made the god of trickers himself puff with pride slung crescent-moon sharp over the shape of your lips.

"what was it that you told me last time?" you ask, your voice sweet enough to slick the skin, "i just always run... hot?"

vi's expression flatlines. she closes the distance between the pair of you in three quick strides and before you can stutter out her name ("v-vi --?"), she's hauling you out of the dining table chair and onto the sofa, pinning you beneath her, one of your wrists caught beneath hers, her other hand skating down the length of your body to tease at the waistband of your panties.

"you little tease..." she murmurs, but there's no poison in her words, only a bone-deep wanting. it rumbles through her to you, shaking shivers down your spine as you whine beneath her.

"mmm you started it," you say, eyes flickering between hers and the shape of her parted lips; the tiny scar there makes your mouth water.

vi narrows her eyes, giving your wrist a warning squeeze as she leans in just a fraction closer. like this, you can almost taste her breath against your tongue.

"so what... are you gonna finish it then, princess?"

"i-if that's what you w-want --" you stumble over your words as vi presses a knee up between your thighs.

"yeah? you're gonna do what i want?"

you let out a pitched whimper; vi delights in the way your pulse jutters in the triangle of your throat. but you nod, a bit frantic, as vi digs her nose into the junction of your neck and breathes.

she lets out a thick groan, an ever-familiar warmth pooling at the base of her belly as she thinks about sinking her teeth into your skin, about seeing the shape of her teeth inked into your skin for days and days after.

it's nearly enough to drive her off the edge.

"but nothing's gonna happen if you don't ask for it first, pretty girl..." she pulls back, grinning when you immediately try to tug her back, the hand pinned beneath hers curling into a loose fist.

"vi... please --"

desire pulses deep in vi's gut. she wonders if things will ever be the same after tonight (it won't) but she also wonders if she still wants them to be the same after all this (she doesn't).

"yeah? please, what?"

you blink up at her, your lashes almost star-lit in the dim light of the dining room.

"kiss me," you say.

vi's breath comes out shaky, her pulse threading through her like some desperate, fluttering thing. she watches you beneath her, thinks to herself that if this is her undoing then so the fuck be it.

"is that what you want, princess?" she asks, and her voice is honest, the edges frayed with all the uncertainty she's ever felt when you've pressed in a bit too close, when she's lingered over the afterimage of your smile, cast against her eyelids at night.

you nod up at her, and in your eyes, she finds something akin to absolution as she leans down to graze her lips over yours, the touch so soft it's almost a memory.

"fuck, vi --" you groan, jerking her down with your free hand fisted at the throat of her shirt, "kiss me, kiss me, kiss me."

she lets out a debauched moan as she tips herself into the heat of your mouth to kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you.

[lovecla]

MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader

SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.

WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!

WORD COUNT 2,3k

FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy

𖧷

don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down

girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth

THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor were enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.

Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.

You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.

He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.

“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”

You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.

“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”

You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.

“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”

“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.

“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”

You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.

“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”

“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”

His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”

You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.

“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”

See ya, ladies?

“Bye, Jack.”

“You’re the best!”

“See ya next time!”

You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.

“You’re not mad… are you?”

His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.

“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.

“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”

“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.

Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.

You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.

When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.

You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.

You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.

Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.

“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.

“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”

“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”

“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”

“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”

“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”

“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”

“Wha—”

“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”

He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.

“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.

You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.

Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.

You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.

You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.

Yet.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”

That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.

You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.

You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

“Jack.”

You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.

“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.

He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.

He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.

You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.

“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.

He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.

He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.

You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.

“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”

You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.

“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”

“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.

He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.

“Take it, baby.”

He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.

“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”

“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Inside?”

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”

He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.

You’re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.

“No, I— sleep inside, please?”

His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.

“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”

𖧷

NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: “Sealed with a Ring”

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,267

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: After secretly eloping a year ago, Paige and Reader have kept their marriage under wraps, but anniversaries and memories are to good not to share...

Paige and I had never been the type to do things traditionally.

Our love story started in a way that felt effortless, like the universe had been waiting for us to finally meet. Four years together and a year secretly married, we were as solid as ever, even if the rest of the world didn’t know.

And honestly? We liked it that way.

Our elopement had been quiet, intimate, and perfect—just us, a small ceremony with our closest friends and family, and matching simple bands that had symbolized our commitment long before we’d made it official.

But of course, Paige being Paige, she had still surprised me months later with a stunning diamond ring.

“For when you want something a little flashier,” she’d said, slipping it onto my finger before I had a chance to argue.

I had worn it, but never in the traditional way. It was either looped onto a delicate gold chain around my neck or sitting comfortably on my left middle finger. It kept people from asking too many questions, and since no one suspected we were already married, it was easier that way.

Still, Paige was patient. She never pushed, never questioned why I wasn’t ready to show off what was already ours.

Until today.

It was our first wedding anniversary.

Four years together, one year of marriage, and not a single regret.

Paige had planned a perfect day—brunch at our favorite spot, a cozy afternoon at home watching old highlights of each other’s games, and now, a quiet dinner just the two of us.

“You’re staring,” I teased, setting down my fork as Paige’s eyes lingered on me.

She smirked, twirling her wine glass between her fingers. “Can’t help it. My wife is beautiful.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, even after all this time. “You’ve been calling me your wife all day.”

“Because you are,” she said simply, reaching for my hand across the table. “And I think it’s time the rest of the world knows it too.”

I knew what she meant before she even said it.

She wanted us to finally share our rings. To stop hiding.

To be seen.

I swallowed, glancing at my hand where my band rested snugly against my skin. I wasn’t afraid of people knowing. It was just… ours. Private.

But when I looked up at Paige, her expression soft and patient, I realized something.

I wasn’t scared of sharing.

I just needed the right moment.

And what better time than now?

“Okay,” I said finally, squeezing her hand. “Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up, and before I knew it, she was pulling out her phone.

The Instagram story went up within minutes.

It was a simple photo—our hands intertwined, matching wedding bands gleaming under the dim lighting of the restaurant. The caption?

One year married, four years of love.💕

We didn’t think much of it.

But the internet did.

By the time we got home, social media was in shambles.

TikTok was exploding.

Fan edits popped up within minutes, clips of us laughing on the court, walking together on campus, sharing subtle touches during interviews—all set to emotional background music.

One video had nearly 500k views already, with the caption:

PAIGE AND Y/N WERE MARRIED THIS WHOLE TIME?!??

The comments were even wilder:

• “THEY’RE WIVES? NO ONE TALK TO ME.”

• “I KNEW THOSE MATCHING BANDS MEANT SOMETHING.”

• “This is the greatest plot twist in UConn history.”

Instagram and X weren’t much better.

Our post was reshared thousands of times, with people dissecting every little detail. Theories ran wild—how long had we been married? Who knew? Did Coach Geno officiate the wedding? (Spoiler: No, but the idea was hilarious.)

Even the WNBA’s official account got in on the fun, commenting:

Well, well, well… look who decided to tell us. Congrats, you two.

Paige was lying on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a giant grin while I sat cross-legged on the floor, watching the chaos unfold.

“This is insane,” I muttered, watching another TikTok fly past my screen.

Paige chuckled. “You’re the one who agreed to post it.”

I sighed dramatically, flopping against her legs. “Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t expect people to react like this.”

Her fingers ran through my hair, soothing. “Do you regret it?”

I turned my head to look up at her, taking in the way her blue eyes softened.

“No,” I admitted. “I think I like it.”

She beamed. “Good, because there’s no going back now.”

The next morning, the media frenzy had only intensified.

Even our teammates were clowning us in the group chat.

Icey B: Y’ALL REALLY JUST DROPPED THAT AND WENT TO BED????

Hey Arnold: I BEEN KNEW but I’m still screaming.

Z²: Not y’all making it sound like a press release 😭 “one year married, four years of love” lmao.

Sar bear: Geno is gonna have QUESTIONS.

P boogs: 🤷🏼‍♀️

I laughed, tossing my phone onto the bed. “Our teammates are so dramatic.”

Paige flopped onto the mattress beside me, her arm draping over my waist. “They love us. The fans love us.” She kissed my temple. “And I love you.”

I sighed happily, turning to bury my face in her neck. “Love you too, Mrs. Bueckers.”

She hummed. “Say that again.”

“Mrs. Bueckers,” I teased.

Paige grinned, tightening her hold on me. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, Mrs. Bueckers.”

And just like that, the whole world knew.

But at the end of the day, it didn’t change a thing.

Paige was mine.

I was hers.

And that was all that mattered.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part eight

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: fluff, vulnerability, shimmer mention!, brief mentions of past verbal abuse, angst, mentions of pregnancy (reader’s sister), extremely inaccurate descriptions of how insurance / payout works (just go with it, it’s fiction lol), smut (fingering, m!oral receiving, masturbation, phone sex), no use of y/n. if there’s anything i missed, please lmk.

word count: 10.6k

synopsis: joel and tommy are sent on a dangerous work trip.

a/n: fuck. thanks for being so patient with me. there’s hints of foreshadowing in this unrevised (sry) monster of a chapter, and the next chapter will be angsty. i hope you enjoy tho. thx for sticking around and reading my silly little story <3

Getting back into the swing of things after the holidays has always deemed itself to be arduous. You’re lucky you work from home, but you’d taken on the responsibility of getting Sarah out of the house in time to drive her to school. It’s not that you mind at all, you just hate getting up out of a warm bed, especially when you have Joel as your own personal furnace now. 

Having two weeks off of said responsibility was nice because you and Sarah got to sleep in and you made her breakfast with hot cocoa nearly every morning before you had to clock in for work. She’d spend most of her break over at her friend’s house or reading a book either in the living room or her room, anyway. 

She has since gone back to school, and having the house to yourself again is still a bit unnerving, which is why it’s nice on days like this where Joel has off from work and can spend some time with you. Even if you’re stuck in your home office on days like today, he checks in on you once in a while to make sure you’re doing okay. 

Today has been particularly hard, only because the client you’re working with is demanding as hell and your boss is jumping down your throat to make sure you appease said client. Your face is buried in your hands as you sit and decompress for a minute, and that’s when Joel decides to check in on you. It’s like the man has spidey senses for when you’re going through it or something. 

“Hey baby, I brought you some—” He stops short when he sees the state you’re currently in. 

“You okay, honeybee?” His voice is gentle and honestly concerned, and your heart melts yet again at how sweet he is. 

“Work’s just stressing me out a bit,” you answer truthfully. You look up at him from your seat as he stands beside you, setting down a small bowl of fruit for you to snack on next to you on the desk. You softly smile at the fruit before looking back up at him. “Thank you, handsome.” 

“Ain’t a thing, baby. ‘M sorry you’re so stressed. Anythin’ I can do to help?” 

He steps behind you now and his large, warm hands land on your shoulders before he begins to massage them. You groan softly and loll your head to the side, rolling your lips into your mouth before shaking your head. 

“Nah. Luckily this is my last day dealing with this client, so it’ll only be for a few more hours. Thank you though, baby. It means a lot.”

You reach up and grab one of his hands, giving it a thoughtful squeeze before you let go to reply to an email your boss sent you. 

“Well what if I told you that I have a date planned for us this weekend?” 

You look up at him with furrowed brows. “Where?” You ask, excitement taking over your body. 

“Well, I know everythin’s been kinda hectic with my accident and me healing, your sister’s news, you movin’ in, the holidays, and Tommy and Maria’s engagement. We’ve been so busy n’ we’ve barely had any time to ourselves outside of the house in a while, so I wanna take you somewhere kinda peaceful.” 

He doesn’t give away too much, but you’re already on board.  

“You’ve got me intrigued. Can’t wait to see what you have up that sleeve of yours.” 

“Good, ‘cus I also bought you a couple ‘a things to go along with this weekend’s date.” 

“Oh?” You give him an incredulous look, but his boyish shit-eating grin is all you need to see to not ask any further questions, no matter how piqued your curiosity is. 

You smile up at him and shake your head, focusing back on your work. You sit in silence for a couple of minutes as he continues to massage your shoulders while you type away. 

“I’m gonna go on a run. I’ll be back in time to fix you up some lunch.” He kisses the top of your head before you look up at him with a small smile. 

“If I wasn’t glued to this desk right now I’d join you,” you laugh. “Be careful out there, baby.” 

“Always am. Maybe I can exercise you in another way later on,” he says, smirking down at you with mischief written all over his face. 

“You’re insatiable, Mr. Miller.” But the idea doesn’t sound half bad. 

He holds his hands up defensively. “Can’t blame a guy for wantin’ to love his lady right, can you?” 

You roll your eyes with a laugh and tug him down gently by his shirt before giving him a lengthy kiss. You release him and pat his abdomen twice. “Have fun on your run, cowboy.” 

-

After a long week, the weekend finally rolled around and Joel still wouldn’t tell you exactly what you two were going to do on your date. 

He just kept reassuring you that you’d love it, and you’ve slowly learned to just go with the flow and not ask anymore questions. 

He insisted you wear a blindfold this time, and made you get into his truck as he took the next few minutes to put whatever it was in the back seat before you both took off. 

You ride passenger for about thirty minutes or so with soft tunes of George Strait playing in the background before you hear gravel crunch under the tires of the truck as Joel turns left. 

“You aren’t exploring a new kink right now, are you?” You snort, turning your head in his general direction. “Blindfolding me like this just to take me in the middle of nowhere and have deliciously rough sex with me and make me fall in love with you even more, hm? Is this your diabolical plan?” You can’t help but wiggle your eyebrows at your own absolute absurdness. 

He chuckles deeply and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes at you as the brakes squeak slightly and the truck comes to a slow stop. It’s silent for a moment before you hear him move, and you feel the heat of his body right next to you. 

“Not today, sweet girl.” The deep raspiness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He huffs a laugh before kissing your cheek and taking off your blindfold. 

You blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the light, the sun shining brilliantly on land—lots of it. Something shimmers in the distance, and you realize it’s a creek that runs along a trail that looks like it’s meant for horseback riding. 

Then it clicks. You look at him with pure excitement in your eyes. 

“Are we going horseback riding?” 

He can’t help but grin at the giddiness in your tone. “Yeah baby, we are. Figured we’d eat first, though. Packed us some of our favorites and thought we could make a picnic of it as we sit by the creek.” 

Your heart absolutely flutters and grows ten times fonder for the man in front of you, if that’s even possible. You try to hold back your tears of gratitude, but one can’t help it and slips down your cheek. 

Joel wipes the tear with his thumb as he leans in to kiss your forehead. 

You grab his face gently in your hands before admiring his beautiful brown irises. 

“Oh, Joel,” you choke out, leaning in for a loving kiss. You rest your forehead against his as you sniffle once. “This is so thoughtful. This place is beautiful. Thank you.” 

“‘Course, my honeybee. Life has been too hectic lately n’ I wanted to treat my woman to somethin’ a little more… relaxing.” 

“What a lucky lady she is,” you giggle, smiling against his lips and giving them one more peck before you pull away. He opens his door and hops out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open your door before offering his hand to you. You take his hand and he helps you out, feet hitting the ground with a thud. 

You both gather the stuff for the picnic before making your way over to the creek that was no more than a hundred yards away. 

You set up the blanket on some soft grass as Joel puts the cooler down beside you both, and you sit down across from each other. You admire the atmosphere, with the sun beaming enough to warm you up some and the song of birds chirping in the trees. The sound of water flowing up the creek adds to the blissful ambience, and you sigh in content before noticing a house off in the distance. 

“Does someone live over here?” You ask, stretching your legs in front of you as you lean back on your palms to hold yourself upright. 

“This is actually my uncle’s land. Tommy n’ I grew up playin’ in these fields and this creek. We’d used to help him on the ranch to earn some extra allowance durin’ the summertime when we got older.” 

You imagine a little Joel and Tommy running around in these fields whose grass sways with the gentle breeze—and then you’re picturing kids of your own. Kids that you’d eventually have with Joel. Hearing their little squeals of joy, chasing them around in the soft grass, making new memories for years to come. You imagine Sarah would be the best big sister, despite any age difference they might have. 

“This place is beautiful, Joel. Does your uncle still own the land?” You ask, eyes shifting back to him. 

He nods. “He does, but he’s had to hire help since he’s a bit too old to take care of the place himself. I know for a while he’d been thinkin’ about sellin’ it, but he says there’s just too many fond memories tied to this place.” 

“That’s understandable. I can just imagine a young you and Tommy causing a ruckus around here,” you laugh, and he nudges your leg with his own. 

“Don’t mean our mama and pops didn’t talk some sense into us,” he chuckles, face tilting toward the bright blue sky. 

“Looks like it did you two some good. They’d be proud of you both, I’m sure. Wish I could’ve met them.” You give him a sympathetic smile, and he gives you a small sad one in return. 

“They would’ve absolutely loved you, baby. I can just hear my mama now: ‘Bout damn time you wanna get settled down with someone nice,’” he sighs and reaches for you, and you maneuver yourself onto his lap. You rest your head against his chest as he wraps his arms around you, giving you a small squeeze while kissing your hair. 

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” you say, nuzzling into his strong chest. 

“She was. I’m very lucky to have had parents that gave my brother n’ I a great example of what true love really looks like, whether it was through their relationship with each other or the love they showered us with. I knew even back then that what Sarah’s mom n’ I had wasn’t true love. It was staying together out of convenience because she’d gotten pregnant. I really tried with her, but nothing made her happy. She became verbally abusive toward me after a while, too. It got even worse after Sarah was born. She didn’t want to be a mother. After everythin’ her and I went through, even after she left us, I’m grateful for her bringin’ my daughter into this world. I love my baby girl more than life itself,” he sighs, taking a breath for a minute as he recounts his past. 

“Raisin’ Sarah as a single dad truly was full of trials and tribulations. I did have help from my family, which I’ll always be grateful for, but I was doin’ it all on my own for the most part. Havin’ the odd schedule I have now and makin’ it work around Sarah’s took a long while, but we finally got it down. Nobody had ever wanted to stick around after a night together because they thought that me havin’ a kid was too… complicated. I can understand it from their perspective, but truthfully, nobody ever gave me a chance to get to show them the real me. They just saw me as someone they can check off their bucket list and mess around with because of my job and the uniform I wear. And then you come along, unexpected, knockin’ me off my feet in the best way possible and showin’ me that love is still in the cards for me. You’re it for me, baby. I don’t think I can ever express my gratitude to you for showin’ me what it feels like to be seen and—god—to be loved the way you love me.” 

You soak his words in before wrapping your arms around his torso. You press a kiss to his stubbled jaw, letting him silently know that you’re here for him. 

“Thank you for opening up to me,” you murmur, tracing your fingers over his back in a soothing motion. “I can’t even imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.” Your voice holds a gratefulness and sadness that isn’t missed, and he shakes his head. 

“Thank you for allowin’ me to be my true self, emotions and all,” he says, and you hug him tighter. You recall him telling you that his ex would tell him ‘real men don’t cry’, and your heart hurts for him even more. How could somebody be so cruel to such a loving man? 

He sighs and lays down, sun glistening against his beautiful golden skin. You admire his handsome features and softly smile as you bring a hand down to run through his curls. 

He pops one eye open before giving your wrist a tug, and you land on him with an oof. 

He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, trailing his fingers down so he can put both of his hands in the back pockets of your Wranglers. 

“I love you so much, baby.” His voice is thick and low, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

“I love you too.” 

The easiness of which the phrase rolls off your tongue is a beautiful thing, you think. You’ve come so far with opening up your heart to Joel, and he, you. You look down at him and savor the way his eyes look like a smooth whiskey in the sunlight, the way the skin around them crinkles when he smiles at you. 

You lean down and finally seal your lips to his, and you feel him fully relax as he moves his hands from your back pockets up to the middle of your back and back down again. You stay like this for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of each other as the soft breeze causes the grass to rustle and the sound of water and lips smacking is a harmony lost in the wind. 

It isn’t until you hear his stomach rumble that you pull apart from him with a laugh, maneuvering yourself off of him to sit up. 

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” you tease, reaching for the cooler. 

“I’m hungry alright,” he says, leaning over to capture your lips in yet another searing kiss. 

“I’m serious Joel,” you laugh against his lips. “You gotta eat.” 

He sighs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Fine.”

You nudge him with a grin before opening the cooler, revealing sandwiches, grapes, chips, waters, two soda cans, and… chocolate covered strawberries. You raise an eyebrow at him as he smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Chocolate covered strawberries?” You parrot your thoughts, moving to sit criss-crossed. 

“I know how much you like them so… I made ‘em for you special.” 

If your heart could burst anymore, this man would probably be the end of you with his unconditional love. You don’t know how much more you can possibly handle, even though you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. It’s the little things like this that he goes out of his way to do for you that has never been done by anyone, so getting used to his kind gestures has been a rewarding challenge. 

“Thank you, honey. This is so kind of you.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before handing his food to him, and you both dive into your meals as you enjoy the serenity surrounding you. Then a pressing thought pops into your head. It takes you a few minutes to conjure up the courage to ask Joel the burning question on your mind, but you eventually find the words. 

“Are you serious about wanting kids with me, Joel?” Your voice is soft as you look around again, then meet his gaze. 

He swallows his food before nodding. “I’m one hundred percent serious.” 

Your heart flutters. “You don’t think the age gap between Sarah and her future siblings would be weird?” 

Joel thinks about it for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t say weird. Might just take some time t’get used to. Ever since she was a toddler she’d been beggin’ me to give her a sibling, but I obviously couldn’t do that considerin’ I didn’t have anyone to… procreate with,” he chuckles at the last part. You laugh with him and nod, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich. 

“I couldn’t imagine growing up without my siblings. Even when there were times we all fought, we all still laughed about it later on and got over it quickly. Bless my mom and dad’s hearts, ‘cus I know we were all a handful.” 

You smile as you reminisce growing up with your brothers and sister. You’d want your future kids to have that type of sibling bond, too. 

“I know what you mean. I remember when my mama and pops told me they were havin’ another baby. I was over the moon about it, ‘cus it meant I’d have someone by my side for life. Tommy might be a grade A pain in my ass, but I’m grateful that he and I grew up so close together and stayed that way throughout adulthood.” 

“I think Sarah would be a great big sister,” you say, and Joel sports a proud smile that makes your heart melt. 

“I think so too, baby.” 

“I never thought I’d be talking about having kids with a partner ever again, you know. I’m happy we’re on the same page about this. I think it’s important to discuss this even before we eventually decide to take the next step in our relationship.” 

He nods in agreement as he opens the tupperware that has the chocolate covered strawberries, taking one out before bringing his other hand to coax your mouth open. He offers you a bite of the strawberry, and he finishes off the rest of it after you take your bite. 

“I’m happy too, baby. ‘S good that we can clarify things now. I’ve never been with someone who can communicate with me so easily, so I thank you for that. I really am just a lucky bastard who got hit on at a coffee shop,” he chuckles, shooting you a wink as you laugh. 

“Thanks for taking a chance on me, Miller. Glad I didn’t disappoint.” And with that, you lean in for one last searing kiss before you both finish off the strawberries and dust yourselves off as you take the cooler and blanket back to his truck. 

You’re about to head for the stables in the distance, but Joel stops you. 

“Wait, I have somethin’ for you,” he says, reaching further into his back seat. He pops his Stetson on and you bite your lip before shooting him a look. 

“Haven’t we already established that you in your cowboy hat drives me absolutely wild?” You cross your arms over your chest as you continue to stare at him incredulously.

“Yeah, baby,” he laughs. “But now you get to match me.” 

He pulls out another hat and spins around, plopping it onto your head. Your eyes also drift down as he hands you a shoebox. 

“Joel, oh my– is this–?” You’re at a loss for words, and he sports a smirk on his face. 

“Open the box, sweet girl.” 

You do as you’re told, carefully opening the box to reveal a beautiful pair of brown leather cowgirl boots with white floral stitching across the front. 

“Joel, these are beautiful. Thank you so much.” 

“Ain’t a thing, baby. Try ‘em on.” 

You slip off your sneakers and try on the boots, which fit perfectly. Joel adjusts the hat on your head before giving you his million dollar smile. 

“Beautiful.”

“You think so, cowboy?” 

“Absolutely. And y’know,” he pauses as he slides his hands comfortably on your hips, pulling you flush against his body. “Every cowboy needs his cowgirl.” 

He gives you a twirl before dipping you, leaning down to kiss you before standing you upright. 

You’re all smiles and giggles as you walk hand-in-hand to the stables, where one of the ranch workers greets you both with a smile. 

“Hey Joel, you’ll be ridin’ Stella and Shimmer today,” the man says. Joel gives him a curt nod as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile. 

“Thank you, Drew.” 

Drew tips his hat to you both before walking off to tend to the other animals near the stables, and you turn toward Shimmer as you begin to gently pet her. 

“Hi beautiful girl,” you coo, stroking her snout. She nudges you gently and you grin before glancing at Joel. 

“She likes you,” he says. 

You beam at him before he chuckles and comes behind you, boosting you by your waist as you situate yourself on the saddle on Shimmer’s back. You continue to stroke her mane as you place your feet in the stirrups, grabbing a firm hold of the reins. 

Joel follows suit as he mounts himself onto Stella, and clicks his teeth twice to lead the way out of the stables. Shimmer follows suit, and soon enough, you’re both riding side-by-side on the trail by the creek. 

“Thank you for all of this,” you gesture your hand around you both before grabbing back onto the reins. “It means a lot to me. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice hopeful. 

“Yeah. It’s been absolutely perfect.” 

You take a moment to admire him and how the sun’s golden rays shine on him as it slowly starts to set, casting a beautiful orange and pink glow in lieu of bright blue. He gazes at you with such a softness you’ve never witnessed before, and you think it’s a thing beyond love. Devotion, compassion, protection—all in a single look. 

A look that has taken care of your heart when it was tender and aching, a look that has pumped it full of love again. It’s a look that flips your world around in the best way possible.

It’s a look that could make you cry. It’s funny, because you never used to be so in-tune with your emotions before. Before Joel, a majority of your life with and after Christian had you feeling so numb and devoid of any feelings or emotions. It was draining, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to feel so lively ever again. 

Well, never say never. 

There are no words to describe the love and gratefulness you feel for this man riding beside you, but you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life proving it to him, even if it’s wordlessly done so. 

-

A few months down the line, the ranch ends up becoming a small escape for you and Joel. When you both had free time, you’d slip away and drive to the open fields to enjoy the calmness of the water under the starry nights, laid up in the bed of his truck on top of a bunch of blankets. 

It’s the only house around for miles, so it’s super private and quiet. It’s like your own little secret with him as you’d lay there, talking about anything and everything—and sometimes leading to more. 

You’re in the middle of more, trying to muffle your moans with Joel’s mouth on yours as his fingers curl inside of you. You’re aching and needy, rocking your hips against his palm so your swollen clit rubs against his flesh. It’s intoxicating, the way his fingers move so perfectly inside of you. 

You gasp against his lips as a dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. 

“Thas’ it. Atta girl, jus’ like that,” he murmurs his praise as you rock your hips so willingly and meet every thrust of his fingers, so close to your release that your whines start to mesh with your panting. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You fist his hair between your fingers and smash your lips to his in urgency, crying against him as a wave of toe-curling bliss surges through your veins.

”Oh, fuck!” 

You gush around his fingers and down his wrist, and he lowly hums as your body convulses a few more times, stomach drawing taut as you come down from your high. 

“Make such pretty messes, baby. So fuckin’ beautiful.” He kisses your forehead as he withdraws his fingers slowly, sweeping them over your sensitive clit to spread your arousal before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to suck them clean. You clench around nothing at the sight as your head falls back against the makeshift pillows, gaze bleary as you try and slow your breathing and heart rate by staring at the stars twinkling so brilliantly. 

Joel dips his head down to kiss you, and you tangle your fingers through his curls once more before dragging a hand down his neck, to his chest, and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm him through the material, arousal blooming in your core once more as you feel how hard he is for you. Feel how much he wants you.

You stop your ministrations for a beat, separating yourself from his lips as you lick the palm of your hand, only to dip it into his sweats and boxers to wrap it around his length. You give him a small squeeze and he groans, eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts back. 

You huff a laugh and lean up to kiss at his thick, warm neck, licking a stripe from his earlobe down to his pulse point. You suck a little on the skin there, loving the way he twitches in your hand. He feels so heavy and warm, and all you want to do in this moment is take care of him the way he deserves—so you do just that. You slide your body down after giving him a kiss, and the dazzling look in his eye is all you need to keep this going. 

You settle your shoulders between his thighs, now face-to-face with his weeping cock. You hum before giving the silky flesh a few more tugs before leaning forward, licking the salty bead of pre cum from his slit. 

“Such a pretty cock,” you praise, rolling your lips into your mouth before you look up at him. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see the flush that has taken over his neck and face in the pale moonlight. His lips are parted and his breathing is a bit ragged, and he’s just waiting for you to pounce. 

Usually, you love to tease him just to see how worked up you can get him, but you’re too impatient and want to hear those delicious moans only reserved for you. 

You lick a long, wet stripe on the underside of his cock before sucking his balls into your mouth, pumping his length as you gently massage him with your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans, hand shooting out to cradle the back of your head. You hum appreciatively around him, pumping him at a steady pace now before moving your mouth up onto his shaft again. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times before taking him all, feeling his head hit the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as you try to swallow around him and refrain from gagging. 

“Holy fuck, baby, you like doin’ this don’t you?” His voice is a deep, raspy mess, and you clench your thighs together at the sound. 

He pulls your mouth off of him, the tip of his cock coating your lips in saliva. 

“Answer me. You like this, huh?” 

Fuck. The possessiveness in his tone makes you want to roll your eyes into the back of your skull as you moan, but you opt for a nod as you rasp out a yes. 

“Look so pretty with my cock down your throat. Can fuckin’ see it when you take all of me.” 

You suck in a sharp breath before your dazed, fucked out mind conjures up the words before you even realize it. “Like this?” 

You lower your mouth back onto him, and he’s spewing a string of groans and curses together, and he eventually moans your name like a prayer on Sunday when you keep deepthroating him like this. You don’t let up, either. You know your throat is going to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the time you’re done, but it doesn’t matter. 

Not when you get to see him like this. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as you let up on his length and just focus your tongue and lips on his tip, making his hips buck up involuntarily. His fiery gaze meets yours and you can tell he’s nearly a goner. 

“So…fuckin’...sexy,” he grunts. You grin as you kiss his tip and flutter your eyelashes up at him, taking him in your mouth and down your throat one more time before slowly coming back up, tightening your lips around him. 

“Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna–” 

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before he’s coming undone, coating your tongue and throat with his cum. His body shudders as you slide your tongue up from his length. You swallow and wipe the saliva off of your chin with the back of your hand. 

“You really are somethin’ fierce, woman,” he praises. You’re too dazed to respond, so you offer him a grin and a kiss to his thigh. 

Joel tucks himself back into his boxers and pulls his sweats up, pulling your body up to his so you’re cuddled into his side. He pulls a blanket over both your bodies and kisses you, and you nuzzle your head onto his chest. His steady breathing and strong heartbeat is what does you in before you even know it. 

You wake up in a bit of confusion, amidst hearing a constant buzzing noise. You’re still in the back of the truck with Joel, who’s passed out beside you. His breathing is steady and he looks so at peace, so you try not to move around so much before you finally realize that Joel’s phone is ringing. 

You have to dig around a bit to find it before you lift it up and squint against the bright light, only to see he has three missed calls from Tommy. Your heart drops, because Tommy is a huge texter. He only ever calls if something’s really wrong. 

“Joel,” you rasp, throat sore from your earlier escapades. His brow furrows and he softly groans, and you softly tap his shoulder. “Baby, wake up. Tommy keeps calling you.” 

His eyes crack open and he sits up, grabbing the phone from you. He dials Tommy back and presses the phone to his ear, still clearly trying to wake his mind up. 

You can’t ignore the anxious thrum of your heart. You have no idea what it could be about, and Joel’s face reads worry clear as day. You wrap your arm around him and kiss his shoulder in reassurance. 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Joel asks, and you can faintly hear Tommy’s voice on the other end of the line, but can’t make out the words. 

“Shit, okay. I’ll be back at the house in 30 minutes.” 

Joel hangs up the phone and scrubs his hands over his face before looking down at you. He gives you an apologetic smile before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“Sorry honeybee, we have to go back home. Our captain wants everyone at the fire station in an hour. Somethin’ important he needs to tell us all.” 

You furrow your brows and sit up, starting to fold the blankets and pack them away in the cab of the truck. You ride in silence for about fifteen minutes, your hand on Joel’s as his sits comfortably on your thigh. His thumb brushes back and forth in reassurance, but your mind is reeling with possibilities of what could be so important for all of them to know. 

“Do you have any idea what your captain might say?” 

Your voice is soft with a sleepy lull to it, and Joel looks at you for a couple of seconds with a small smile on his lips. 

“No idea, baby. It has to be somethin’ big ‘cus he only calls us in like this if it’s super urgent.” 

You nod in understanding, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance. You arrive home fifteen minutes later, and Tommy greets you both at the front door. You give Tommy a hi/bye hug and Joel a kiss before they’re out the door and driving down the street. 

You decide to stay in the living room. Watch a movie or something, and wait for them to come back. You settle onto the leather couch, wrapping a blanket around you as you turn the TV on and keep it at a low volume. Exhaustion sweeps through your bones as you lay still. Your eyelids get heavy, and before you even realize it, you’re out cold once again. 

-

The front door unlocking stirs you from your sleep, and the familiar tread of boots is heard walking into the living room. 

“Baby, I’m back,” Joel says. 

You open your eyes and yawn, gaze landing on the clock. Eleven p.m. 

“Hey,” you say, voice timid. “How’d the meeting go? Is everything okay?” 

You sit up, allowing room for Joel to plop down next to you. He spreads his legs and leans his head back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I have to leave. Well, Tommy and I have to go. There’s a huge fire that broke out in San Angelo earlier today and it’s spreading fast. They need all hands on deck.”

You take in the information and furrow your brows, pausing for a beat before speaking. “How long will you be gone for?” 

He moves his hand from the bridge of his nose and looks at you with a sad expression. 

“‘M not sure, sweet girl. Could be for a few days or a few weeks. It really just depends on the conditions of the fire and the surrounding areas.” 

You nod in understanding before grabbing his hand, once again squeezing it in reassurance. 

“When do you and Tommy leave?” 

“Tomorrow morning. Captain told us to rest up as much as possible before we head out. It doesn’t look pretty, and it’s a four hour drive for us.” 

“I think you should go wake Sarah up and tell her,” you say. He nods and kisses your head before he trudges up the stairs. You turn off the TV and follow suit, settling into your side of the bed after you wash up and change into your pajamas. 

Joel comes into the room a few minutes later, closing the door behind him. 

“How is she?” You ask, opening the covers for him. He strips down into just his boxers before climbing into bed with you.

He nods. “She’s okay. Sad that I have to leave, but I told her you’d take real good care of her.” 

You huff a laugh and nod in agreement. “That I will, Mr. Miller.” 

Then realization hits you—since Tommy is leaving, that means Maria will be alone. 

“Are you okay if I invite Maria to stay over here while you guys are gone? I know she can take care of herself, but I’d rather her not be alone for however long.” 

“‘Course, baby. ‘S your home, too.” 

And, it is, which is an aspect you’re still getting used to. 

He settles into you, nuzzling his face into your chest as he inhales deeply. He kisses the skin there once before wrapping his arms around you. You rest your head on top of his, running your fingers through his hair. He falls asleep in a matter of minutes, but you remain wide awake, plagued with the thought of him going out to do his very dangerous job.  

You sigh and scold yourself for even thinking about that, because even just the prospect of telling him to stay is so unbelievably selfish. You’d never actually tell him, of course, but you think it and the thought is all-consuming. 

You just worry, like any partner would, but you worry even more especially after the nasty accident he had. You know he’s been doing this for a long time, but you’ve learned that fires can be unpredictable and life doesn’t deal in absolutes. 

A couple of hours pass and Joel is still sound asleep, meanwhile you haven’t gotten a wink of rest. Your eyes roam to the bedside alarm clock—four fifty in the morning. You sigh softly and get up as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb Joel. 

Since you can’t go to sleep, you decide to use your energy to make Joel and Tommy some lunches and a few batches of your cookies that everyone at the firehouse loves so they have something to snack on while they’re on the road. 

You start with the cookies and make enough dough for at least three batches, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You hand mix everything and put the three baking sheets in the oven, setting a timer on your phone. While the cookies bake, you make both of their lunches and pack them away. 

You can’t stand still and need to keep your hands busy to distract yourself from your looming thoughts, so you go ahead and make a fresh pot of coffee, too. 

You pour yourself a cup and put a dash of creamer in it, taking a sip as you lean over the counter and sigh. You close your eyes and rub your temples in an attempt to ease your mind. 

You hear a door open upstairs and some shuffling down the steps soon after, and a sleepy Sarah emerges. 

She rubs her eyes as she gives you a small smile, making her way to the barstool that’s on the other side of the counter from you. 

“You’re up early,” you muse. 

“Couldn’t stay asleep,” she says, and she looks at the oven as she sees cookies baking. She raises an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep at all.” 

“You’ve got that right,” you huff a laugh, taking another sip of your coffee. 

“I don’t want him to go.” 

Her blunt confession takes you aback, but it gives you a bit of comfort knowing you and her are in the same boat. 

“I know, sweetheart.” You reach your hand out to cup hers, running your thumb back and forth over her knuckles. 

“I know he’s doing this for good. I just… I don't want to see him hurt again.”

You nod in understanding. “It’s a catch twenty-two.” 

She sighs, and you round the counter to bring her into a hug. 

“I know it’s not much of a distraction, but how about we go get a pedicure later on? Just to relax a little.” 

She nods against you before leaning back to meet your gaze. “I’d love that.” 

“Great. In the meantime, are you hungry? I can make you some waffles.” 

“Thank you, but I’m not super hungry right now…” she pauses, eyeing the oven. “I’d love one of your cookies, though.” 

You laugh and nod, your phone timer going off at the perfect moment. You take all three sheets out of the oven and set them down on racks, letting them cool down. You serve her one before starting to clean up, and that’s when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps make their way downstairs. 

“Morning cowboy,” you tease, pouring his cup of coffee as he stares at you two in confusion. 

“Mornin’…you’re both up early.” He makes his way to Sarah and kisses her hair before moving to you, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. You hand him his cup of coffee and he wraps his arm around you and gives you a gentle squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking a sip. 

“What time do you and Uncle Tommy need to be at the station?” Sarah asks, biting into her cookie. 

Joel’s eyes glance at the clock on the stove. “Around nine.” 

It’s silent for a moment, and Joel looks back and forth between you both. 

“Y’all still haven’t told me why you’re both up so early.” He raises an eyebrow, looking to you for an answer. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug. 

“At all?” 

“No. I laid there for a couple of hours before I got up to make you and Tommy some lunch and a few batches of cookies for the crew while you’re on the road.” 

Joel’s eyebrows tug together. He sets his cup of coffee down, circling his arms around your waist. He holds his arm out, silently coaxing Sarah to join in. She hops down from the stool and hugs you both, and you nuzzle into them both. You all stand there for a good minute before Joel is giving you both a squeeze and kisses your heads. 

It’s like the sense of dread and anxiety hung in the air, and he clocked in almost immediately. 

Not much gets past him—you’ll give him that.

“I love you both very much. I’ll be alright,” he says. “I promise to check in every day when I can, okay?” 

His comforting embrace and reassuring words warm your heart. 

You all untangle yourselves from the embrace, and you give him a soft smile. 

“We love you too, Joel. We just worry for your safety.” 

“I know baby, I know. Believe me when I say there’s nothin’ I’d rather do than stay at home with you both, but this is an all hands on deck situation.” 

“We’d never ask you to stay, dad. We know this is part of your job and it’s important that you’re there,” Sarah says, pausing as a tremble overtakes her bottom lip. She wraps her arms around him, voice broken and soft when she speaks next. “Just be careful, okay?” 

You can see a flash of emotion in Joel’s eyes as he hugs her back, leaning his cheek on top of her head. 

“I will, babygirl. I swear to you.” 

-

You’re standing in a small group in the fire station, getting ready to send Joel and Tommy off with the rest of their crew. You’re having a conversation with them two, Maria and Sarah when one of their coworkers—Mark, you think—walks up to you, holding up the bag of cookies. 

“I just have to say thank you for these. They’re the firehouse favorite.” 

You grin and shrug. “Not a problem. Just a small thank you for everything you guys do.” 

He smiles at you and looks at Joel. “She’s a keeper, Miller.” 

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses your temple. “I know. I’m a lucky, lucky man.” 

“Alright, it’s time to head out,” their Captain calls. 

You sigh and turn toward Joel. You offer him a small smile as your heart clenches with anxiety, but your expression never wavers. 

Sarah gives Joel a tight hug, expression still a bit sullen. You can tell she’s trying her best to hide it, but it slips through and it’s a look you recognize all too well. You give her shoulders a squeeze of reassurance 

He has that look in his eyes. The one where it’s filled with worry, with anxiousness. The same look that’s probably in yours, too.

You want to lighten the mood, so you tug him flush against your body by pulling the leather strap of his radio holster that sits across his chest. He laughs as his hands land on your waist, and you push your lips to his. 

You separate from him after a few seconds, smiling softly against his lips before you pull apart just enough to see those beautiful, worried brown eyes. 

“Be careful out there, cowboy. I love you.” 

He squeezes your hips. “I will, baby. I love you too.” 

He leans down to give you one more peck on the lips before he moves to say goodbye to Maria. You do the same to Tommy, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a soft little peck on the cheek. 

“Take care of each other, yeah? Life’s a lot more fun when you’re both here with us, unharmed.” You look between Joel and Tommy with a sternness they’ve never seen before. 

Tommy’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, his dimple showing up along with a flash of white teeth. 

“You got it, boss.”

He salutes you, and you sidle up beside Sarah and Maria as you wave them both goodbye. They climb into the same truck, and they’re on their way to San Angelo. 

-

Two weeks have passed, and Joel still isn’t home. He keeps his promise on checking in every day when he can, sometimes shorter conversations than others, but you’re grateful nonetheless. 

Today, your siblings all agreed that a lunch was much needed between you four so you could all catch up. It was the perfect distraction, and with Sarah at school and Maria at work, you agree immediately. It’s so odd being in an empty house when you’re not on the clock, and since you’d finished with your clients early, you had the rest of the day to yourself. 

You meet up with them at a local diner, slipping into the booth next to Emily. She has a small belly now, and you lean down to air kiss it before greeting her, Andy and Cole. 

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” Emily says, and you all nod in agreement. 

“I know. It’s been awhile since I’ve harassed you guys,” Andy jokes. You roll your eyes and throw your crumbled up straw wrapper at him. 

“So how goes it?” Cole asks, leaning back in the booth. The young waitress stops by your table to take your orders before collecting the menus, and Emily starts. 

“Things have been great, actually. Baby boy is healthy and Josh got promoted at work.” She runs a hand over her belly, and your eyes light up. 

“I’m so happy for you, Emi. How does Josh like the promotion?” 

“It’s great, really. He gets more time off now, especially to come with me to my appointments, and he got a pretty significant increase in his salary.” 

“That’s so good. I still can’t believe you’re having a kid. My nephew is gonna be a little stud with the coolest uncles,” Andy says. 

“What am I, chopped liver?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re only semi-cool. You’re with a cool guy, though, so I guess that raises your points.” 

“God, you men are so fucking weird with your logic sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah,” Andy waves your words away, before his expression gets a bit more serious. “How is he though? How’s Tommy?” 

“They’re okay. They’re exhausted, though. The fire had spread rapidly because of the winds, and they’re still in the process of containment, but I think it’s almost at one hundred percent.” 

“Fuck. I can’t even imagine. We had a pretty dry winter too, which probably didn’t help much,” Cole says. You shake your head and gnaw on your lip, deciding to change the subject for your own sanity. Emily senses it, because your sister knows you like the back of her hand, and she finds your hand folded in your lap and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze right back.

“So what’s been going on with you two? Anything new?” You look between your brothers, and the waitress drops off your food before they can say anything. 

Cole’s eyes avert to the basket of fries in front of him, and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him carefully. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut when Andy starts to talk. 

“Not much. Work is good. Can’t complain.” Andy shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of his burger, and you nod before looking back to Cole. You nudge his foot under the table and his gaze snaps up to yours, and you give him an encouraging smile. 

“That’s good, Andy,” Emily says. 

“I, uh, I met someone,” Cole starts. Everyone’s eyes shift to him, and he sports a small smile. “It’s still pretty new, though, so that’s why I haven’t mentioned it before.” 

“Hell yeah, brother. Happy for you,” Andy claps Cole’s shoulder and he smiles. 

“Where did you meet?” You ask, popping a fry into your mouth. 

“Met her at the bar we went to a few months back. Finally bucked up and asked her on a date a couple of weeks ago, and it’s been going good ever since.” 

Although Cole seems to exude confidence, you know he’s more on the shy side when it comes to romance. You and him have always been the shy kids, while Andrew and Emily were outgoing and bubbly. When Emily first told you to put yourself out there with Joel, the shy shell of a woman you used to be went into fight or flight mode—but she ultimately ended up being right. 

You can hear it now: That’s what big sisters are for.

You’re grateful you and your siblings are all close in age. Although you’ve all fought over stupid, miniscule things that seemed like the whole world when you were younger, you all ended up being very close, which is something you’ll never take for granted. 

“That’s great, Cole. I hope we can meet her when you’re comfortable enough to bring her around our crazy family,” Emily laughs, and you all chime in and chuckle along. 

“I think Josh and Joel can attest to that,” you say. “I told him he could’ve run for the hills before Emi’s wedding, but that man stuck by my side and told me he wanted to meet all of you.” 

“Now that—” Cole swallows his bite of food, “—Is a real man.” 

“And look at how happy he’s made you. I love seeing you together, especially after everything you’ve been through,” Emily says. 

Andy’s face turns sour, frowning at the vague mention of your ex. “If I ever see him in person again I won’t hesitate to deck him in the face.” 

You didn’t have to question who he was. You already knew. “Get in line, Andy. Joel has first dibs.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts up in amusement before he reaches out to you, palm upward, making a ‘give me’ motion with his fingers.

“Give me my ticket.” 

You laugh and push his hand away, and lighter conversation ensues the rest of lunch. 

The waitress drops the check off at the table, and you mumble that you’ll Zelle whoever pays as the other three fight over the check. Your phone rings and you pull it out of your pocket to see who it is.

Your eyebrows furrow as you see your attorney’s name across the screen of your phone. You slide the answer button over and cover your other ear so you can hear him better. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey! Long time no talk. I have some good news,” he says. 

“Hey, yeah, how are you? What’s the news?” 

“I’m good, but even better now—apparently whoever hit you in your accident was some big wig’s kid, and the parents want to pay you out a big amount for your car and, as they said, ‘any emotional damage caused by this accident’.” 

“Oh fuck,” you say. You rub your forehead with your thumb and forefinger. “Sorry, sorry. Uh—how much?” 

In all honesty, you’d sort of forgotten about your accident because so much has happened in your life since that day. You smile fondly at the memory of Joel kissing you in the back of that ambulance, within only hours of knowing each other at that point. 

You had no idea that it would’ve led to this. A good life with an even greater man. 

“They sent out a check to your house, but I think it’s in the hundred thousands range.” 

Your eyes bug out of your head and your jaw drops. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Your siblings all look at you in confusion, but you still can’t wipe the look of shock off of your face. 

Your attorney laughs at your initial reaction, but you’re still in utter disbelief. 

You can’t even fathom that kind of money, but you’re sure your attorney is used to those kinds of numbers. 

“Yeah, so keep a lookout for a check in the mail,” he says. 

“Um, yeah, will do. Thanks for giving me a call.” 

“Of course. I’ll touch base with you if anything else comes up.”

You say goodbye and hang up, and you meet your siblings’ gazes. 

And, with a small smile, you pluck the bill from Andy’s hands. “Actually, lunch is on me today.”

-

You almost fall over when you open the envelope with your check in it. 

Half a million dollars. You don’t know who the hell this kid’s parents are, but writing a check for five hundred thousand is fucking insane. 

You stare at the numbers in disbelief as you sit at the edge of the bed, sun casting its brilliant golden glow across the paper in your hands. The paper that reads half a million fucking dollars. It’s like a jackpot lighting up in Vegas or something.

You don’t know how long you stare, but if you did any longer, your eyes would burn holes in the paper. You slide the check back in the envelope and put it in your underwear drawer underneath your sports bras, because you honestly just can’t believe that it’s real. 

And later that night, when Joel FaceTimes everyone to say hi and check in, you don’t say a word about it. 

It’s not that you want to keep it from him, but you have an idea of what you’d like to do with a portion of the money, and you’d rather keep that idea a surprise for the time being. 

You trudge upstairs once more after Maria and Sarah say goodnight to Joel and Tommy, but Joel tells you to stay on the phone. He watches you do your night routine before you slip into an old oversized Texas A&M sweatshirt of his, sliding into bed. 

“I miss my woman somethin’ awful,” his deep voice rings through the phone. You look at the screen and sigh, a small smile settling onto your lips. He looks so exhausted, and all you want is for him to be safe at home again. By your side in bed. 

“I miss you too, handsome. How’s it looking out there?” 

He groans as he settles onto a bed himself folding an arm to lay his hand behind his head. 

“‘S kickin’ our asses. Embers from the original fire sparked a new one. It’s smaller, but these winds ain’t helping a damn thing.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you say, gnawing on your lip as your eyebrows furrow in worry. “I feel awful that I can’t do anything to help.” 

“There is one thing,” he says. You recognize the tone in his voice—want. 

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Miller?”  

“You wearin’ my old sweatshirt?” He asks. 

You purse your lips and nod, watching how his expression turns lustful and determined in the confines of his temporary bedroom. 

“Wearing it ‘cus it smells like you,” you confess. 

A groan rips from his throat and scrapes low in your belly, and your eyes flutter shut as you feel slick already beginning to pool from the heat between your legs. 

“Are we really gonna do this?” You huff a laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I was a touch-starved man before I met you, baby. Then you go n’ spoil me with your pretty hands that can’t seem to keep to themselves.” 

“You could always tell me to stop, you know,” you purr. There’s some shuffling on the other end, and you see his heavy lidded eyes gaze at you. 

“I’d be insane to do so, darlin’.” 

“Would you?” 

He moans softly, and you realize he’s probably rubbing himself up. God, you wish that was your hand. 

“Mhm. Love when your hands are all over me, especially wrapped around my dick.” 

You can’t help but giggle, and a ghost of a smile curls at the corner of his lips. 

“Love that sound, too,” he adds. 

“You know what I love?” Your voice is teetering on the edge of a seductive whisper. 

“Hm?” 

“I love when my big, strong hunk of a man makes me feel so loved and protected. Allows me to delve into my femininity. Uses his strong hands and thick fingers to make me see stars.” 

You realize you’re probably babbling at this point, but your words seem to do the job just fine. Joel’s eyebrows pinch together and that all-too familiar muscle in his jaw ticks wildly. 

“Turn the camera around, Joel. Show me.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to flip the camera around to face the impressive outline of his cock in the gray sweats he’s wearing. Your thighs clench together at the sight, imagining what it’d be like to grind on him until he came undone. Hear his moans and strings of curses as he reaches his peak. 

“Fuck, honey,” you whine. 

“This is what you do t’me, baby.”

His voice almost sounds pained, but you know it’s because he’s held in so much tension the past couple of weeks with no way to release it. You’d do anything to distract his mind from the exhaustion he feels and fires at hand, even if it’s for a brief few moments. 

You decide to be a little raunchy, because fuck, you’re already in this position, and you want to be a good distraction—again—even if it’s brief. 

You make a show of yourself sliding your fingers down the valley of your breasts and down your stomach, wasting no time to reach your desired destination. You swipe your middle and ring finger through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before you bring your fingers up to show the camera—to show Joel—how much he turns you on. 

You separate your fingers, and a string of your slick connects between the two. 

“This is what you do to me.” 

Joel all but growls at the sight, slipping his hand into his sweatpants to grab his aching cock. You can just imagine how warm and heavy it feels in his big palm, and you sigh at the thought. 

“Fuck, baby. Be a good girl n’ touch yourself for me.”

He’s breathless, but the sound sends shockwaves through your body as more slick gushes eagerly from your aching, needy center. 

You slip your two fingers in your mouth, humming around them as you taste the tangy-sweet flavor of yourself. 

“Shit,” he says, a moan scraping from his throat. You grin like the Cheshire Cat before slipping your fingers down again, alternating between rubbing your clit slowly and dipping your fingertips into your cunt. 

You flip the camera around to show him, and it sounds like he nearly whines from the sight. You suck in a breath as you stop teasing yourself, slipping the two fingers fully into yourself. You pump them languidly, and hearing Joel’s ragged breath and gasps on the other end of the line has you writhing. 

“You don’t know how bad I wish these were your fingers and not mine,” you gasp out, grinding your hips up into your palm. 

“Oh don’t worry baby,” he pants, “‘M gonna give you everythin’ you need n’ more when I come back.” 

“That a promise?” 

“Mmm—mhm.” 

He matches the stroke of his cock with the pump of your fingers then. 

“Can’t wait to be buried in that pretty little pussy. Take me so well. Fuckin’ made for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight n’ warm. ‘S like a dream,” he babbles, and you have to bite down on the collar of the sweatshirt to keep a moan ripping from your throat.

”Need your mouth all over me too, Joel,” you cry, “Love it when you let me cum by your tongue.” 

“Yeah? Next time I’ll have you usin’ my face as a fuckin’ seat. Hold you down so you have no choice but to cum in my mouth over n’ over again.” 

“Oh, god.” 

“You like that, huh? The thought of fuckin’ my face to get you off?” 

The words die on your tongue as you try to speak, but the pleasure that was once a low burn in your belly is now its own full-fledged sun. It’s so white hot and you’re on the edge, gripping the phone in your hand for dear life. 

“Answer me,” he growls. 

“Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes,” you whisper-cry, and you’re unraveling before him on camera. You soak your hand and undoubtedly the sheets beneath you, but that’s a tomorrow problem. Your body convulses a few times and you moan as you see the white spurts of cum land on his stomach. He moans your name like a prayer on Sunday, and it makes you shiver with seemingly untamable arousal. 

He breathes heavily before grabbing a tissue to clean himself up, tucking himself back into his sweats before he flips the camera back around to his face. 

His cheeks and neck are flushed, and you can see the sweat on his forehead as he tries to steady out his breathing. You stretch and roll over on your side, laying your head on his pillow to inhale his scent. 

“I love you, my honeybee.”

You smile at the nickname and yawn, stretching your limbs one more time before curling in on yourself. 

“I love you too, cowboy. I can’t wait ‘til you’re next to me in bed again.” 

“I can’t wait either, darlin’. I hope this is all over with soon n’ I can love on you the way you deserve.” 

You grin sleepily at his words, post-coital drowsiness wrapping around your body like a weighted blanket. 

“Stay safe out there.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

And you’re fast asleep soon after you hang up. You dream blissfully of life with Joel in the fields by the ranch, of your future with him, of the memories you’ve yet to create. 

You dream of Joel happy and safe, not an ounce of the beautiful man troubled. 

But this is real life. This isn’t a fantasy where you can wish good things for people and it just magically happens at the snap of a finger, a rub of a lamp. 

His resolve was slowly crumbling. The weight of the world was sitting steady on his shoulders, breaking him down piece by piece. 

Each broken fragment of him, scattered and fragile, lay in your hands—

and this time, it was up to you to put him back together.

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[rootedinrevisions]

Soft Spot for You

Summary: Tyler finally gives in to getting a dog with you, and it turns out he's not the only one with a soft spot for you.

A/N: This is just a short fluffy little drabble based off this picture that @hunterthecharmer shared. Hope you like it :)

Word Count: 671

You had dropped the puppy conversation weeks ago. Tyler had made it clear—between storm chasing, traveling, and the unpredictable chaos of your lives, adding a dog to the mix wasn’t practical. “Too much work, too much responsibility,” he’d said. You hadn’t argued, even though the thought of a little puppy curled up on your lap had been something you’d wanted for awhile. You weren’t ready to have kids with Tyler…yet. But a puppy was manageable, or so you thought.

So when Tyler told you to hop in the truck one quiet Saturday morning a few months later at the end of storm season, a smirk playing at his lips, you didn’t think twice. You slid into the passenger seat, glancing at him with curiosity.

“Where are we going?”

He simply reached over, tugged your seatbelt into place, and replied, “You’ll see.”

That smirk told you that you were in for something. But as he drove past the usual spots your favorite diner, the backroads leading to the fishing spotyou two frequented you grew more confused. It wasn’t until he pulled into a parking lot in the next town over, right in front of an animal shelter, that your breath caught in your throat.

You turned to him, wide-eyed. “Tyler?”

He had already opened his door, stepping out like he hadn’t just blown your mind. He leaned against the truck, looking at you with a lopsided grin. “Well? Let’s go pick one out.”

You scrambled out of the truck, nearly tripping over your own feet in your excitement. He chuckled, catching your arm before you could go face-first into the gravel. “Easy there, sweetheart.”

The second you stepped inside, you were drawn to the row of kennels lining the back wall. Some of the dogs wagged their tails, others barked excitedly. But your heart stopped when your eyes landed on a little golden retriever curled up in the corner of her kennel.

“She’s a little shy,” the worker informed you. “She’s had a rough start, so she’s still getting used to people.”

You nodded, understanding completely. Slowly, you knelt down, extending your hand towards her. She hesitated, lifting her small head to meet your gaze. Her warm brown eyes studied you, uncertain at first. And then, to your surprise and the worker’s she got up, padded toward you, and rested her head on your knee.

Your heart melted.

You reached out, carefully scooping her up. She didn’t squirm, didn’t shy away. Instead, she nuzzled into your arms, pressing her little nose into the crook of your neck. You exhaled a shaky breath, already feeling yourself fall fast and hard.

When you looked up at Tyler, he was already shaking his head with a knowing look.

“You’re not gonna let me leave here without her, are you?” he asked, amused.

You grinned, cradling the puppy closer. “Nope. Just look at her Tyler!.”

Tyler sighed, but there was no real fight behind it. He just rubbed a hand down his face, chuckling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah. I guess she’s kinda cute.”

As you and Tyler got into the truck, the little golden curled up on your lap, you leaned into Tyler’s side, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He tipped his hat back, glancing down at you. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, feigning exasperation. But when he reached over, scratching the puppy’s ears, his voice softened. “She’s got a soft spot for you.”

You grinned. “You do too, cowboy.”

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. “You aren’t wrong there, sweetheart.”

Before you could tease him, he reached over, cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a slow, lingering kiss. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of the coffee he’d had that morning, and when he finally pulled back, he brushed his thumb over your cheek, his smirk returning.

“C’mon,” he murmured, tapping the truck’s dashboard. “Let’s get our girl home.”

With your heart full and the little golden nestled against you, you had a feeling home had never felt sweeter.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Min Ho’s unexpected plus-one

Min Ho Moon x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Min Ho surprises his friends with a girlfriend, and they can’t believe she’s real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

If my heart beats any faster, I might actually pass out.

I smooth down my sweater for the hundredth time as Min Ho leads me toward the table where his friends—Dae, Q, and Kitty—are sitting. They’re deep in conversation, laughing at something I can’t hear, but the moment Min Ho clears his throat, all three heads turn in our direction.

“Guys,” Min Ho says, his voice casual but confident. “This is my girlfriend.”

Three pairs of eyes widen simultaneously.

“Girlfriend?!” Kitty is the first to react, nearly choking on her drink. She looks between us with the kind of shock I imagine she’d reserve for a major K-drama plot twist. “Did I miss something? Since when do you date?”

Min Ho sighs dramatically, placing a protective arm around my waist. “You all act like I was destined to be alone forever.”

Dae, who has been quiet up until now, finally blinks out of his stunned state. “I mean… kinda?” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not because there’s anything wrong with you! Just, you know, because Min Ho’s… Min Ho.”

I laugh, and Min Ho groans. “Wow. Amazing. So much faith in me.”

Q leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studies me. “Okay, but seriously. We need details. How did this happen?”

“Yeah, and how are you putting up with him?” Kitty chimes in, narrowing her eyes at Min Ho like she’s waiting for me to expose all his flaws.

Min Ho scoffs, pressing a hand to his chest. “You know, a normal reaction would be ‘Congratulations, Min Ho! We’re happy for you, Min Ho!’”

Dae shrugs. “We’re still processing.”

I decide to take pity on him. “Honestly, he just kind of grew on me.” I glance up at him with a teasing smile. “Like an expensive, annoyingly charming fungus.”

Kitty gasps in delight. “Oh, I love her.”

Q grins. “Yeah, she’s definitely keeping him humble.”

Dae finally smiles. “Okay, okay, I approve.” He looks at Min Ho. “But if you mess this up, you know we’re all taking her side, right?”

Min Ho sighs. “Obviously.”

I can’t help but laugh as Kitty gestures excitedly for me to sit next to her, already launching into a million questions. Min Ho might have been nervous about this introduction, but honestly? I think I just found my new favorite people.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As the night goes on, I settle into the group’s dynamic faster than I expected. Kitty is relentless with her questions, grilling me on everything from my favorite K-drama to my most embarrassing childhood story. Q is effortlessly charming, throwing in sarcastic quips that make Min Ho roll his eyes every five minutes. Dae, despite being the most reserved, gives me reassuring smiles that make it clear he’s warming up to me.

Min Ho stays close the whole time, his arm slung casually across the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against my shoulder. It’s subtle, but I can tell he’s still a little nervous, like he needs to make sure I’m okay. It’s sweet, really.

At one point, Kitty leans over and whispers, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

She glances at Min Ho, who’s currently bickering with Q over something ridiculous, then back at me with a knowing smile. “Soft.”

I feel my face warm, but before I can respond, Min Ho turns back to us. “What are you two conspiring about?”

Kitty just winks. “Nothing. Just girl talk.”

Min Ho narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, but before he can press further, Dae checks his phone and sighs. “I should probably head out. My dad’s expecting me home soon.”

Q stretches. “Yeah, me too. But this was fun. You’re officially part of the group now,” he says, giving me an approving nod.

Kitty grins. “Yeah, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure Min Ho treats you right.”

Min Ho scoffs. “She doesn’t need you guys for that. I’m an amazing boyfriend.”

I hum thoughtfully. “Debatable.”

Kitty bursts into laughter. “Oh yeah, I definitely like her.”

As we all say our goodbyes, Min Ho laces his fingers through mine and pulls me a little closer. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

I smile up at him. “Yeah, I think I love them too.”

He smirks. “Not more than you love me, though. Right?”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through my chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Min Ho grins. “I knew it.”

And just like that, I realize—being with him, being part of this? It feels exactly right.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 6

Enjoy Chapter 6! Ch8 will be a look into what has been happening in Ghotam and Ch9 will probably follow the first episode of Invincible.

We're slowly approaching the main timeline age, so if ya'll want a specific character to make an appearance or would like to see a specific plot line this is your time to speak now or forever remain silent /j

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 6 >>next

He is crazy- he can’t just- He-!

You couldn’t even know where to begin telling what happened. One moment you were relaxing, enjoying the sun, living the dream- and then this old, 6 feet and 2 inches of pure muscle, alien-man thing just up and kidnaps you. Omni-Man kidnapped you with a simple “Hello, kid. Let’s go home.” You were more shocked than angry, to be honest, the man was just spewing nonsense as he flew you across the states.

Now, Nolan wouldn’t call it kidnapping- why, he’d never! He was just- cleaning up the streets, helping a homeless kid, even though he knew where she lived- it was adopting without all the other steps!

He was meticulous in his watching, not stalking, but watching, observing. When Cecil first called him, bringing to his attention a mysterious flying person coming and going from NYC, he was ready for a villain, an alien preparing to overtake NYC, anything but a tween kid shakily flying, almost hitting buildings and nearly being taken down by other flying heroes.

He knew she was no threat; he told Cecil as much- but he kept coming back. Something kept making him come back, just to look, to make sure she didn’t hurt herself or others- he kept telling himself. He knew deep inside why he came back every day for a year, it was the same reason why he married Debbie, it was the same reason why he couldn’t bring himself to hate his son.

Sure, she was living well, but the food she ate, if she remembered to, wasn’t sustainable, she needed home-cooked food, she needed socializing and training, she needed- she needed a family and stability. Nolan took the initiative to pack her bags and everything in her little apartment and move her into his and Debbie’s house, in the room next to Mark’s. And then, he took her.

You didn’t put up much of a fight if one at all, but really what could you say or do when Omi-Man has deemed you his and his wife’s kid, the man spoke of her highly, his son too, but still- He kidnapped you, you wouldn’t just stay- “And Debbie is making this roast beef with baked potatoes-“…

Some would call you weak, others would say you can be easily bought, but this was the greatest roast beef you had tasted in a long while. “This is amazing food, Mrs. Grayson.” You could play along for a while. The woman just smiled and thanked you, insisting on you calling her Debbie. The offer of ice cream made you sure you could play along for a long while.

She wasn’t initially happy with Nolan coming with a random kid under his arm, but one look at your disheveled appearance and wide eyes made her rethink everything. A daughter wouldn’t hurt, two kids would make the house happier, and you reminded her of those scuffed up little kittens, she didn’t have it in her to let you go without a meal at least.

Over dinner, you answered every question they threw at you, from your name to Mark asking if you like comics, but when they asked your age, you just shrugged. “Around 13-14? Can’t quite remember, I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, mom just told me how old I was and then-“ Your body went rigid.

You were telling too much, getting too comfortable- but, maybe this was your chance at a true family. Can’t back down now, you could always just leave if you really wanted. The two adults understood as soon as you tensed up, Debbie immediately acting as her hand soothingly rubbed at your shoulder and back while they let you decide whether to continue or change the subject. “She died when I was five.”

She smiled at you softly, apologizing for prying and giving their condolences, something not even Alfred did. All Nolan saw was an opportunity to grab you and never let go, to give you what the father that clearly wasn’t in the picture never gave.

Mark just grabbed your wrist, a sad frown on his face. “I can share my parent with you. I know I’d be sad if mom or dad were gone. We can be siblings!” His bright smile was contagious, making you smile just as bright before your hopeful eyes met Debbie’s. She was sold a while back, as soon as you called her pretty while calling Nolan a bum and asking how she had the misfortune of marrying a brute, making the man grumble as he sat you on the couch, your hopeful glance just set it in stone.

Despite having a room all to yourself, you wanted to push. They were different to the Waynes, that was clear. They were warmer, talked to you, and it all felt so much better. So, you wanted to test the water by asking Mark if he’d be willing to share his bedroom with you tonight, not wanting to be alone. Not when you had the opportunity to soak in any attention they give you.

The boy was excited to have a sleepover in his room, eager to show you all the comics and toys he had- and neither Debbie nor Nolan could say no. Not to two pairs of puppy eyes. The adults were sure this weakness to saying no wouldn’t last… Hopefully.

Spending the night with Mark was amazing, it was everything you thought Dick and the other would give you. He showed you all his comics, letting you read all of them, and as the night settled and the stars were high in the sky you taught him about them. In the end, you both fell asleep in the pillow fort you made, comic books lying open around you. Your plans of escape quickly went out the window, this family thing with them felt like it was worth trying. You liked NYC, but maybe Chicago is where you belonged. And if the adults heard you two giggle and fuss around all night, they didn’t say anything.

By next week you were a Grayson, thanks to Cecil’s string-pulling. Looks like Nolan knew exactly what to say to make the man agree.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple

my greatest fear is misspelling a name and tagging someone who has never seen this 🫠

[hitomisuzuya]

hello dear suzu, hope your day’s going well.

I wanted to ask for a Scara x reader, but the reader is obsessed with Scara’s hands and always staring at them.. thinking he didn’t notice. But he actually did and wants to ‘reward’ us after a bad, long day of work.

I hope it’s clear, and I’m sorry if it’s not..!🫰

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. fingering. fingersucking. squirting. smutty appreciation for scara's gorgeous fingers. soft!dom scara.

scara's fingers are beautiful. and i am weak for them. he is ambidextrous, and it doesn't which hand he uses cause you are always guaranteed to-ahem😳

today sucks. no scratch that shit, this whole week has been bad for you. even right now, right this second, you feel like you are failing at something. sighing, you put your elbow on scaramouche's on your knee and rest your chin in your palm.

your eyes drift to his fingers, and wonder not for the first time if scaramouche knows how beautiful his fingers are. the elegant bend, the precision with which he moves them, the beautiful length. he is only doing something as simple as writing and still you are captivated by them.

you definitely couldn't fail admiring his fingers.

from his place on the bed, scaramouche can more than tell how stressed you are. you have been quiet nearly the whole day. you look tired, and you need to sleep. he could practically feel you staring longingly at his fingers. "hm?" he hums, glancing up from his paper.

you look a little forlorn for a second. of course you didn't think he ever notices how often you admire his hands. you knew sometimes things like this were hit or miss with him. "i was just wondering if you knew how beautiful your hands are? your fingers in particular?" you reply, curling a lock of hair around your finger as you look away shyly.

his fingers sure would make you feel better. this much you knew. his hands are capable of doing so so much.

scaramouche has to admit, he felt his ego stretch (more than) a little. "i know," pure egoism talking, "you have this habit of eye fucking them any chance you get. it amuses me," he smirks seeing the blush on your cheeks suddenly darken.

"i..i didn't think you noticed," you reply, drawn to looking at his fingers again as he twirls his pen between them. you swear he is teasing you because your mouth practically waters.

he waited for the question he could practically see forming on your lips. "can i suck on them? just for a little while?" your heart flutters in anticipation watching him put down his pen.

"here," he offers you his fingers, grazing his thumb over your lower lip. he may make you beg often, but he is always going to give his precious exactly what you need.

"thank you, this week has been really awful," there is nothing but utter sincerity in your tone. scaramouche sighed as his cock pulsed. fuck if it didn't turn him on knowing something so lewd as sucking on his fingers would make you feel better.

he shivers as your tongue licks across his thumb. "open," he commands, taping his index finger on your lips. you open your mouth, oh so eager to please him.

"mmm," you moan softly as his finger is pushed into your mouth. you glide and swirl your tongue, immediately sucking in appreciation as he pumps his index finger slowly in and out of your mouth. your pussy clenches feeling him explore your mouth, pressing his finger down on your tongue.

you moan again. it is erotically exhilarating for you. how much control he has over whether or not he makes you gag. your tongue tingles at the thought. and as if he could read your mind, he did exactly that.

"open again," the gentle press on your tongue makes you gag and open your mouth for his middle finger. you muffle a moan on his fingers, flattening your tongue on them. drool pools from one corner of your mouth as you suck, your hand stroking his wrist in appreciation.

scaramouche always watches you with complete fascination when you suck on his fingers. he never thought someone could get so easily aroused from just merely choking a little on his fingers. he slowly pumps them in and out of your mouth, his cock pulsing from the feeling of your warm mouth sucking in worship.

"take off your clothes and lie down," he pushes his fingers into your throat, smirking seeing your eyes water as you happily gag, going back to sucking without missing a beat. "gives me better access to your body."

your tongue lingers on scaramouche's fingers as he takes from out your mouth. a string of saliva connects your tongue to them, and you marvel at how beautiful they look shiny with your saliva. more than feeling the absence of his fingers in your mouth, you hastily remove your clothes.

he licks his lips seeing the submissive way you put your arms above your head, like you are offering your entire body to him. moving next to you, scaramouche trails his fingers featherlight over your throat. your body practically purrs inside as he grazes them down to your chest.

you move your chest into his hand, a sigh that bled into moan met his ears as he circles each of your nipples. "so responsive," he approves, pinching your nipples in reward.

an sharp jolt of pleasure zapping straight to your clit. your nipples harden, sensitive under the pads of his skilled fingers. your pussy throbs, your walls clenching around nothing as he teases and pinches your nipples. he knows your body and can play it like an instrument.

"i can see the tense desperation in your whole body," you gasp in pleasure as scaramouche delivers one final pinch to your nipples before moving down to your drooling cunt. "it looks very becoming on you. my needy little doll."

your cheeks flush hearing such sweet praise. your pussy soaks so well on his fingers as he dips them between your folds. your hole clenches around the tip as he circles it, teasing as he traces the shape of your pussy.

"keep your legs spread," he commands shakily, wanting a good view of your creamy cunt sucking his fingers in. you nod, moaning as he pushes his index finger inside you. your hips rock up to meet his hand, feeling his finger graze across every sensitive nerve inside you before he slowly bullies your sweet spot.

it wasn't long before you are falling apart in the delicious pleasure only a single finger was providing you. your cunt clenches, begging him for a second finger. "more. more please," you whimper, unable to stand the throbbing in your clit anymore. your eyes look just as desperate as your pussy feels.

scaramouche chuckles at your sweet plea, his cock aching in the confines on his shorts. he always gets hard when you beg. your back arches off the bed as he abruptly thrusts a second finger inside you, scissoring your walls apart.

with his free hand, he sets to work rubbing your clit. a string of louder moans tears from you as his wags his fingers over the swollen, throbbing nub. your hips buck up to grind your clit on them. "that's a good girl, fuck yourself on my fingers," watching you enjoy yourself so thoroughly is exhilarating to him.

you get wetter with every pump and scissor, pleasure humming through you and consuming you as he expertly built up your orgasm. all the stress melts away a little more every time he kisses your sweet spot, his fingers relentless on your clit.

a certain look flashes through your eyes then. one scaramouche knows very well. with how close you are to cumming, you realize then that you are going squirt all over his fingers. "how cute," he taunts, increasing his pace. he only gets harder knowing he is capable of this.

your orgasm came fast and sudden, your pussy gushing on his fingers. you are dazed and drooling, your body trembling as you cum hard in a fit of uncontrollable moans. "let's see if you got another one in you, shall we?" his smirk more than said he wasn't entirely finished with you yet. spoiling you is a kink for him, after all.

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

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10

(T.W sexual content)

Jinx

She tasted like berries.

Sweet, but not in a fake, sugary way—real, ripe, and just a little tart. Like she’d bitten into something moments before and I was just catching the aftertaste.

It’s been hours, but I swear I can still feel the ghost of her lips on mine, still hear that little hitch in her breath when I pressed closer.

Fuck.

I flop back onto my bed, arm draped over my eyes, trying to will away the ridiculous grin stretching across my face.

It’s stupid.

I’m being stupid.

But my brain keeps looping it—her fingers in my hair, the way she shivered when I kissed down her neck, the way she didn’t pull away.

I run my tongue over my lips absentmindedly, half-expecting to taste her again.

I don’t, obviously.

But damn, do I want to.

I roll over onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling. That kiss—it keeps coming back, like a song stuck on repeat.

It’s like the air’s different now, charged in a way it wasn’t before. It’s heavier, thick with something I can’t name yet.

My mind spins with thoughts of her—Y/N, all quiet and measured and impossibly soft—yet when we kissed, she wasn’t like that at all.

She was there, fully present, her breath hot against my skin, her hands steady as they tugged at my hair.

I let out a frustrated sigh and punch the pillow beneath me. This isn’t helping. It’s just making me more wound up.

But the thought won’t leave me, won’t stop scratching at the back of my mind: What if she wants more? What if I want more?

I sit up and swing my legs off the bed, pacing back and forth. Fuck. What am I even supposed to do with this?

I know I’m a mess. I’m always a mess. But with her? I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to have her close, to kiss her. It wasn’t just about the kiss itself, but everything around it—how she reacted, how her body moved, how I felt with her.

The problem is, I’m not sure if she feels the same.

I need to know.

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Y/N

It's pouring down. The sky is an endless wash of gray, with rain slashing against the windows like a thousand tiny blades.

The world outside feels muffled, like the storm’s swallowing everything whole, and inside, it’s just me, wrapped in the quiet of my room.

I’ve been staring at the books on my shelf, picking up one, setting it down, picking up another, but none of them seem to hold my attention. Not when my mind keeps drifting back to her.

To Jinx.

The way her lips felt, soft yet sure against mine. How everything inside me seemed to catch fire for just a second. I’ve been trying to tell myself it was nothing, just a moment, but it wasn’t just a moment. Not to me.

The sound of something scraping against my window shatters the silence, and my heart skips a beat. I stand up, instinctively moving toward the sound. When I reach the window and pull it open, I nearly stumble back in shock.

Jinx’s face peeks through the rain-soaked window, her eyes gleaming with that same wild energy I can never quite place.

Her lips curl into a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, she launches into a dramatic, over-the-top quote. “It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. And none but fools do wear it, cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love!”

I blink, momentarily thrown off by her theatrical entrance. My pulse quickens, not just from the surprise but the way she’s looking at me, the intensity of her gaze almost too much to bear. “What… what are you doing?” I ask, trying to regain some semblance of composure, even as my heart hammers in my chest.

She just grins, that wide, almost-dangerous grin of hers, and without any hesitation, she climbs in through the window, her drenched clothes sticking to her like a second skin.

Water drips off her, splashing onto my floor, but she doesn’t seem to care.

"Jinx," I start, my voice tinged with concern, "You're going to freeze."

"Well, warm me up," she says, her voice playful, daring, and that's all it takes. Her lips are on mine again, sudden, hot, and desperate in a way that makes my breath catch.

It’s different this time—more urgent, more consuming. I don’t have time to think before her hands are pulling me closer, pushing me to match the intensity she’s giving. Her body presses against mine, the cold of the rain outside clashing with the heat building between us. The wetness of her hair still clings to her skin, but it’s all forgotten, lost in the wave of sensation that crashes through me.

I’m lost in the kiss, her taste, the way her lips mold to mine like we’ve done this a hundred times before, even though we haven’t. My pulse quickens, the tension in my chest tightening as her hand trails up to cup my face, her thumb grazing my cheekbone.

I want more.

My hands slowly trail underneath the sopping clothes that cover her skin.

"You need the take these off, you'll catch hypothermia," I try to make it sound informative, I really do, but she knows, and I know, I just want her clothes gone.

A grin splits across her face, "You trying to get me naked toots?"

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, "And what if I was?"

"We'll then i'd say tit for tat,"

"Pardon?"

"I'll get naked if you do," Her cheeks dimple in the corner when she says that.

Oh.

Oh.

I normally would be hesitant. I've never been bare before someone before, but it's her and like she said, tit for tat.

My hands abandon her t-shirt and go to the hem of my nightie instead. And she's watching me, eyes almost lidded. A heat spreads over my skin when my shirt falls to the ground.

"Tit for tat," I murmur waiting for her to follow suit.

And she does, slowly peeling the damp clothes from her body, discarding them on my carpet, there was inevitably going to be a stain later.

My eyes follow her movements intently, almost greedily, until she rids herself of every obstructing item. Apart from her underwear, pink with blue stripes, they remain, clinging to her hips, molded to her body like they're painted on.

I let out a breath.

She tilts her head to the side, a Cheshire cat like grin resting on her lips, "You good toots?"

I manage a nod, which makes her giggle and walk closer.

"Y/N-"

I avoid her gaze completely, eyes focused on my feet, the floor, anywhere but her.

Her hips, her thighs, her waist, her breasts—

"Y/N," she repeats, more instant this time. My head snaps up, just in time to see her grab at my waist and smash her lips to mine once again.

I know what to do now, with the kissing.

I part my lips, just a bit, and her tongue delves in immediately, a sound, I'm not sure whether mine or hers, echoes between us.

It's different living a situation like this, rather than reading this, I've read many erotic stories before, but never would I have thought it would be this—good.

My fingertips trail down her line of her spine, following it down until it flares into the curves of her hips, and then further, until somehow my hands end up splayed over her ass.

All that cockiness she had fades the second she whimpers against my mouth. I swallow the sound greedily tugging her closer.

I part to breathe but—god the need for oxygen seemed trivial in comparison to her lips.

Jinx seems to grow tired at being the object of desire, and mimics what my hands did to her, simultaneously shoving me back slightly.

The backs of my knees collide with my bed and it sends us toppling onto my sheets. She lands on top of me in a very compromising position and I can't help the laugh that leaves my lips, light and practically joyous.

The sound gets kissed away.

Our lips are more feverish against eachothers now, she just keeps kissing me, as if my lips hold the answers to all her impossible questions.

Perhaps they do.

When I break away only to gather air, I notice that the deep mauve shade of lipstick that normally stains her lips has smudged, leaving a messy, almost reckless trace across her mouth, as if the kiss had drawn out every last bit of control from both of us.

My breath hitches when she finds another spot to target with her lips. My neck.

"Oh, oh Jinx—"

I can hardly recognise the sounds leaving my lips now, obscene and completely lewd as Jinx litters my neck with kisses, she seems determined almost trying to find that spot, the one that would draw the nicest sounds from m—

She found it.

A sound—practically pornographic—comes from deep in my throat and I know she hears it because her kisses halt and she lifts her head from the crook of my neck, peering down at me.

A grin spreads across her face, and she looks so insanely smug that I don't know whether to roll my eyes or kiss her again.

I settle for the latter.

She snickers against my lips, and the sound reverberates through my chest, a warm and fuzzy thing.

"Y/N," She murmurs between kisses and its so soft, so tender, so completely uncharacteristic for her, but the tone, it makes me melt.

"Jinx," I try to mimic her tone, trying to make myself sound sultry, but I fear it was painfully obvious that I had no experience.

My sexual knowledge consisted of tales of regency scandals, love found in prosperity, but not this, me, me and another girl, almost nude in my bed.

But she doesn't seem to mind, just smiling at me again before resuming those neck kisses, and my god, they're just so good.

My hands fall from her body, instead gripping the sheets, as she continues her assault on the skin of my neck.

She's biting, and sucking, and everything in-between, and I can practically feel the welts, the bruises forming. And I don't think I mind.

Her kisses travel down, down my stomach, then my naval, but when she gets to the spot between my thighs, she pauses, falters.

I would've assumed Jinx had gone down on girls before, but her reaction seems to be telling me the opposite.

"Jinx—" The word comes out breathy and needy, she knows what I'm asking for.

And so slowly, her fingers, still painted in that alternating blue and pink, hook into the sides of my underwear, making an attempt to pull them down.

I giggle, lifting my hips to assist her, I know it's going to be a vulnerability that I've never allowed myself before...but it's Jinx, its Powder.

My Powder.

When the dampened fabric has been tossed aside, she hooks her arms around my thighs, tugging me just a little closer.

She breathes and it's shaky, she's nervous too. But nerves become the second thought when that warm puff of air brushes over my pussy making me shudder.

I want to watch what she does, but my head lolls back onto the pillow. One of my hands leaves the sheet, twisting into her damp blue strands.

The flicks of her tongue are mere caresses at first, like an exploration, but then something snaps, she locates my clit, swirling her tongue around it, before sucking, hard, enough to make me yelp.

That noise only spurs her on, her nails making crescent moon shapes in the skin of my thighs as she tries to devour me whole.

It's working.

She tugs me impossibly closer to her face and her mouth envelopes me fully, making my back arch of the bed and more obscene sounds leave my lips.

"Oh! Fuck, Jinx!"

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Jinx

She tastes fucking fantastic.

It's that sweet tart taste all over again. And holy shit is at addictive.

I pull her closer running my tongue over clit, just teasingly, just to see what she'll do.

She likes it.

Y/N's back arches and her hips buck against my mouth, certain choice words leaving her lips.

God she'd scold herself if she heard the foul language she's using.

My tongue slips further down, towards her entrance, and she's damn dripping.

"Fuck," I breathe against her and my voice must've done something because her thighs twitch again.

My eyes flicker up to hers and I hold eye contact as I slowly slip my tongue inside of her.

"Jinx, holy shit!" Her voice is breathy, almost pathetically needy as I slowly start to swirl my tongue around.

She tries to maintain eye contact as my lips and mouth move in tandem to give her what I know she needs, but she's not successful, head lolling back onto her pillow, mouth parting in an O shape.

My hands leave her thighs, two fingers sneaking down to her clit, rubbing slow circles as my tongue continues those relentlessness movements that she seems to like.

She's whining and squirming and trying to muffle herself in her pillow and it might just be the hottest thing I've experienced.

Well until...

My name—or variations of it on her lips when she cums.

"Jinx, fuck! Pow, Powder!"

Her back arches off the bed, hands clawing so hard at her sheets I'm sure they'll tear.

I don't let up, licking up all her sweet liquid like it's some sort of aphrodisiac. Maybe my new favourite one.

She does eventually cease my incessant licking, trying to tug me up to her level.

I go to pout, but seeing the look on her face, all soft and wanting, I resign, instead shifting next to her, lacing our fingers together.

"You okay toots?" I tilt my head waiting for a response, but due to her brain cells currently not functioning I have to repeat myself.

"Toots? Earth to Y/N," I wave my hand in-front of her face. She regains her senses with a giggle before nodding, still slightly cross eyed.

"I've never been better." She murmurs still all soft and sweet, before pulling me a tiny bit closer and placing a kiss on my lips.

And fuck, I just wanna stay like this forever.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: they finally got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, hope you liked it ;)

please like and reblog <3

[mejaemin]

how to kick someone out of your house - park jisung

day one of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 0.7k

summary: you and jisung would never host hangouts for the sole reason of hating the idea of having to kick them out. what better way to do so than avoiding it altogether?

warning: socially anxious ji and reader, this is literally so me, fluff, featuring the rest of dream! ji and reader get very much babied in this but its cute

an: this was heavily inspired by my own hatred for inviting people over, because jisung and reader’s dilemma is so real !!! how are you supposed to tell people when they need to leave ?!?! i feel like there isn’t a single way that isn’t like kinda mean

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the group is small, only being filled with jisung’s main friends but it feels so much bigger. they can get quite loud, altogether creating a sound loud enough to compensate for a small crowd. you’re tucked into his arm, watching a tv show that no one else is paying attention to while the boys engage in whatever wild conversation they’re having. some are making odd or inappropriate jokes, but you’re too preoccupied to laugh at any of it.

truthfully, you’d been dreading this get-together as soon as it was brought up. you already dealt with people enough today as work, but it was special for jisung and despite him not giving you much warning to mentally prepare, you still went to make him happy. it was quite overstimulating, and they’ve been over for quite a while, and you sleepily rub your eyes with a pout while you rest your head on jisung’s shoulder.

you can tell he’s starting to get there too, not being as responsive to the conversation. he leans back a little more against the couch, slouching and bringing you with him. after a few more detached responses, he pulls his phone from his pocket and begins texting you, looking at you expectantly.

ji 🐹: do you also really want everyone to go home or is it just me?

you: no, me too.. i’m so tired i can barely keep my eyes open ;(

ji 🐹: this is why i hate having them over.. how am i supposed to say, “i’m tired, can you get out now?” that’s so scary (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

you: babyyy i cant do it either.. i’m no better than you!

ji 🐹: maybe we just fall asleep here? do you think they’ll get the message?

you: let’s do it!! anything to avoid having to say it out loud..

after shutting both your phones, you can’t help but giggle at your conversation. you’re both so similar, anxious and dreading the idea of confrontation. jisung’s arm wraps around your shoulder a little tighter, allowing you to rest your head on his. with your knees to your chest, you bring the blanket a little closer, covering you and him (mostly you) with it. you pull the oversized hood of jisung’s hoodie over your head, and finally let your eyes shut. eventually he falls silent and the weight of his head lands on yours, and you eventually fall asleep. one of the many skills you’ve developed since dating jisung was the ability to tune out his friends voices, and it’s something you’re very grateful for in this moment.

after a good while, your eyes finally open, and your heart nearly leaps out of its chest. everyone’s gone now, and not only is it dead silent but the lights were shut off. when you pull out your phone, immediately going to check the whereabouts of your guests, you finally relax into the back of the couch. the boys left messages in your shared group chat, taking pictures of you two sleeping while cooing about ‘how cute the babies are when they’re sleepy’ and how they were ‘soso responsible and helped put you both to bed’. looking down, you see the fluffy comforter from jisung’s bed over your laps. next to you, the boy himself is still asleep, neck in an incredibly uncomfortable position as he drools into his hand.

snapping a picture, you send it to them with a thank you message before shutting your phone off and kissing jisung awake. his brows furrow, putting his hands out in front of him as he sits up.

“hey, don’t.. don’t do that when they’re.. oh.” always so shy in front of his friends, he leans away from your lips before his eyes fully open and he notices their departure.

you smile, albeit tiredly, using your sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth before leaning in to give him a hug. he thanks everything he loves that the lights are off, hiding his flushed cheeks while you do so.

sitting up, you take a minute to stretch. “they left, finally.”

he’s already up, taking the blankets in one arm and yours in the other to take you back to his bedroom. “oh, i’m so happy our plan worked. i was really dreading having to say something…”

he lays down first, opening an arm for you to rest your head on before pulling both blankets over your bodies. nuzzling your head against his shoulder you get comfortable again, ready to fall back asleep. you don’t even bother saying anything, simply nodding in response. you’re too sleepy to continue making conversation, and you know he is too, both of you drained from having to talk to people for so long.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[scoupsakakitty]

Hoshi x 14th member please like a very slowburn and members are tired of seeing hoshi like that until they make hoshi confess to her, and he likes her like from the very start in their trainee days, but the members found out he likes her that much after years so yeah, maybe she is the same age as him, he's just a few months older so most of all the members calls her noona noona hehehe

Timing is Everything | idol!hoshi x 14thMember | fluff

Hoshi had always liked her.

Not in the casual, fleeting way people develop crushes during their trainee days no, this was different. It was the kind of quiet affection that settled deep in his chest, growing roots with every passing year. It started with the way she tied her hair in messy buns during late-night practices, the determination in her eyes when the trainers pushed them too hard, and the way she laughed at his dumb jokes even when she was exhausted.

But he never said anything.

Years passed. They debuted. They became family. The feelings stayed.

And the members noticed.

It wasn’t the obvious things Hoshi was careful about that. No lingering stares or unnecessary compliments. But it was the small things: how he always saved her favorite snacks without thinking, how his mood shifted whenever she was upset, how his jokes were always just a little funnier when she laughed.

One day, after another painfully obvious moment where Hoshi practically short-circuited because she called him cute in passing.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “I can’t do this anymore. Just tell her you like her.”

Hoshi’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please,” Mingyu chimed in, rolling his eyes. “We’ve known since what? 2016? Honestly, it’s impressive how long you’ve managed to suffer in silence.”

“I’m not suffering.” Hoshi’s voice was high-pitched. Betrayed.

Jeonghan smirked from his spot near the window.

The room burst into laughter, but Hoshi’s face was burning.

“I don’t like her like that,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Seungcheol snorted. “Yeah, sure. And Minghao doesn’t like painting.”

Before Hoshi could come up with a weak defense, the door creaked open. Y/N walked in, wiping sweat from her forehead, a water bottle in hand.

The room instantly shifted. The teasing died down, but the mischievous glint in Dino’s eyes said it all.

“Noona,” Dino called out casually, stretching his arms over his head. “Serious question.”

She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “What now, Chan?”

“If you had to date one of us hypothetically, of course who do you think would be the best boyfriend?”

The room erupted in laughter again. Hoshi’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

“Yah, what kind of question is that?” Seungkwan groaned, but the grin on his face showed he was loving every second of it.

She smirked, clearly amused, and pretended to think about it as she walked further into the room. “Hmm… tough one.”

Hoshi stared at the floor, trying to act indifferent, but his ears were turning red.

“Well,” she began, her eyes scanning the room, “Seungcheol would be too bossy. Jeonghan’s too sneaky I’d never know if he’s being serious. Mingyu’s way too clumsy. Vernon? I’d have to compete with his music.”

Everyone laughed, and even Hoshi managed a weak smile, though his chest felt tight.

Then, for just a brief second, her eyes met his.

“I’d probably pick someone who makes me laugh,” she said casually looking at Hoshi. “Someone kind… someone reliable.”

Hoshi swallowed hard. His heart was racing.

“But I’m not naming names,” she added playfully, tossing her towel over her shoulder and heading to grab her bag.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Seungkwan leaned in, whispering through gritted teeth, “She was totally talking about you.”

Mingyu nodded. “If you don’t confess soon, I might do it for you.”

Hoshi didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. His heart was still somewhere on the practice room floor.————————————————————————————-The days after that conversation felt unbearable.

Hoshi couldn’t stop thinking about it her words, the way her gaze lingered just a little too long, the teasing smirks from the members every time she walked into a room. It was like they were all in on some secret that he wasn’t brave enough to face.

But nothing compared to her.

The way she laughed during late-night rehearsals. The casual way she’d nudge his shoulder when he made a joke. The way his heart raced every time their hands brushed, even if it was just by accident.

It was getting harder to pretend.————————————————————————————-A Week Later

She was sitting on the floor, stretching, while Hoshi absentmindedly fiddled with his water bottle, debating with himself.

Just say it. What’s the worst that could happen?

But the words stayed trapped in his throat.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” she suddenly said, breaking the silence.

Hoshi’s heart nearly stopped.

“Weird? Me? No, I’m totally normal,” he stammered, laughing nervously.

She gave him a look one of those looks that saw right through him. “Come on, you’ve been zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and you’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

Hoshi opened his mouth, then closed it again. His chest felt tight. He could hear Seungkwan’s voice in his head: ‘She obviously likes you too. Just confess.’

But fear held him back. What if it ruined everything?

“I’m just… tired,” he muttered, looking away.

She didn’t press further, but the tension hung in the air, thick and heavy.————————————————————————————-The Next Day

“Okay, that’s it,” Seungcheol declared, slamming his palm on the table during lunch. “We’re staging an intervention.”

Hoshi blinked. “What?”

Jeonghan leaned in with a wicked grin. “You’re confessing today. No more excuses.”

Mingyu nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yep. We’re tired of watching you suffer.”

“I’m not suffering—”

“Oh, please,” Seungkwan cut in. “You looked like you were about to faint yesterday when she asked if you were okay.”

Before Hoshi could protest, the door swung open, and Y/N walked in.

Perfect timing.

Seungcheol didn’t miss a beat. “Hey, Y/N. Hoshi has something to tell you.”

Hoshi’s eyes widened in horror. “Hyung!”

She paused, looking between them, clearly confused. “Uh… what is it?”

The room went silent. All eyes on Hoshi.

His heart was racing. His hands were clammy. But then she smiled just a small, curious smile and something in him snapped.

Hoshi stood up so quickly he nearly knocked over his chair. “I—I like you!” he blurted out, voice louder than intended.

Silence.

The words echoed in the room.

Her eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised. Hoshi felt like he was going to pass out.

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” he added, his voice softer now, but more steady. “Since our trainee days. I just… I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room was dead silent for a beat then Seungkwan dramatically covered his face like he was watching a drama unfold.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at him, and Hoshi felt like the ground might swallow him whole.

But then she smiled. A real, soft smile.

“I was wondering when you’d finally say it,” she said quietly, her eyes warm.

Hoshi blinked. “Wait… what?”

She stepped closer, her smile widening. “I like you too, idiot.”

The room exploded with noise cheering, laughter, Seungcheol shaking Hoshi by the shoulders like a proud dad.

Hoshi just stood there, stunned, until Y/N gently reached for his hand. That’s when it hit him.

She likes him back.

All those years of quiet longing, small glances, unsaid words it was all worth it.

And the members?

They claimed victory like it was their confession.————————————————————————————-It’s the same night and Y/N couldn’t sleep.

Her heart had been racing since Hoshi’s confession. The words kept replaying in her mind like a song she couldn’t turn off.

“I’ve liked you for a long time.”

She had waited for so long to hear those words. But now that she had, it felt like something inside her had snapped a tension she didn’t even realize she’d been holding. She needed more than words. She needed him.

Without overthinking, she quietly slipped out of her room, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor. The hallway was dim, shadows dancing along the walls. She paused briefly in front of Hoshi’s door, her heart pounding like a drum.

Just do it.

She knocked softly, barely giving herself time to reconsider.

The door creaked open, revealing Hoshi in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly messy from sleep. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her standing there.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and slightly raspy from sleep.

But she didn’t answer.

Without a word, she stepped into his room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Hoshi barely had time to process before she crossed the space between them in quick, determined steps. She reached up, cupping his face with both hands, and pulled him down into a kiss.

It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t shy. It was everything she’d been holding back weeks, months, years of quiet longing poured into a single, desperate moment.

At first, Hoshi froze, his eyes wide with shock. But then something in him melted.

His hands found her hips instinctively, pulling her closer, erasing the space between them. His lips moved with hers, gentle at first, then deeper, more certain. Like he was making up for all the time they’d wasted.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Hoshi’s eyes searched hers, his heart racing wildly.

“W-What was that for?” he whispered, his voice barely steady.

Y/N smiled softly, her forehead resting lightly against his.

“I’ve been holding back for too long,” she whispered, her fingers still gently cradling his face. “You finally said how you feel… so now I can finally say it too.”

She leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze sincere.

“I love you, Hoshi.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. His heart felt like it might burst.

A slow smile spread across his face, soft and full of warmth. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering gently against her cheek.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice filled with so much emotion it made her chest tighten.

He kissed her again softer this time, slower, like he had all the time in the world. And for the first time, they did.

No more hiding.

No more holding back.

Just them.————————————————————————————-

[qinluna]

compliant piece to this, but can be read as a standalone. cw: discussion of suicidal thoughts, toxic relationship dynamic / arrangement. directly references 2-9. reader is gender-neutral. reader is not mc but still works for the association. reader is severely depressed. special cameo at the end + slightly happy ending.

“I’ll be gone. Aren’t you happy that you won’t have to see me then?”

…

“I’m about to leave. It’d be nice if we had a meal together.”

Three days too long. Three days too tumultuous for what you could tolerate. Three days—finally, miraculously up. Everything leading up to it—drove you to the point of mentally drafting resignation letters to the Association. Some combat medic you were. You learn in your time on Skyhaven that perhaps your will was not as strong as it initially was.

You were still a scared, little child in spite of it all.

You’ve drowned out the sound of the news report, before Caleb switches off the TV. Seated on the couch, your weary gaze is focused on your lap. You’re tugging at the bracelet he put on you back when you were in the infirmary. The infection of your wound—and the force of his Evol that held you down when you protested his protection.

The cold, detached look in his eyes…

(And how it hardened even more when you attempted to fight back physically.)

You hadn’t spoken a word since.

‘If being with me only brings you pain, then just put up with this for three more days.’

Three days that you didn’t sleep properly at night—and if you did, it’d be in short, unsatisfactory increments of time. Three days that you ended up vomiting every meal he had prepped and left in his fridge for you.

Three nights of nightmares that were a reminder of your disturbed, regressing soul.

You keep fiddling with the bracelet, the action causing the hologram panels to glitch as they constantly appear and disappear. Caleb’s noticed your deteriorating state, but his duties as a Colonel kept him away from doing anything about it.

In that short bracket of time, when he would arrive back home, he would feel his heart beat uneasily seeing you twitch in your sleep—brows furrowed in distress.

(On the second night, that’s when the guilt nearly cut through him, all because he saw the glisten of tear streaks on your face in the moonlight.)

Finally, in the present, does he make a move.

Caleb strides toward you, getting on one knee and resting his hands on top of your own, stopping you from messing with the bracelet any further.

“I’d say you could be mad, and… to not let it affect your health,” he speaks gently. “But… I hate seeing you like this. Especially when it’s your last day in Skyhaven, and…”

I know I fucked up, he wants to say. I know I should have done better. I know you needed me. I know I’m the reason you’re—

The rest of his thoughts remain unspoken. You don’t care.

“...Remember when I told you, on my thirteenth birthday, that… I wanted to die?”

You finally say something. But the lack of use in your voice has left it hoarse and unfamiliar. You don’t even feel whole. You feel like everything was taken from you, because of him—and you can’t get it back. If there were gods out there, you now accepted the gravity that perhaps this was your punishment. No higher power was protecting you from the yearning of Death.

Caleb’s jaw tenses, and he squeezes your hands a bit firmer as he spoke lowly, “Yeah, I… remember. I hated it.”

“...That’s how I feel right now.” You confess, clearing your throat, “Despite… everything… despite how much I missed you… I never would have thought that I would feel this way again.

“Let alone—you being the reason for it.”

The underlying darkness in Caleb’s eyes dissipates. The constant sight of what was a cold, calculating commander who could bend anyone at his will—shifts. Even in the moments he feigned tenderness for your sake, it’s not even that particular scheme that his gaze changes into.

For once, ever since he held you captive to his side—a glimpse of his truest soul dusts into the violet gaze that looks over you. Offense? Hurt? Sympathy?

You feel like you could hear the distant traffic of Skyhaven’s busy main street. There’s also the slight hum of the heater running—but close enough to you was the slight hitch of his breath. Caleb, who once meant the world to you. Caleb, who once swore to always make you smile.

Caleb, who grieved with you about the life you should’ve gotten instead. You should’ve been happier as a kid, should’ve felt safer. He would have done everything in his power to ensure you of that.

But even as you lift your head to find his eyes, the brief guest of his sincere heart is not meant to stay. It is not enough to sway you to believe that the Caleb you knew was still there.

“...Just let me go home,” you begged him, your voice cracking amid the quiet. “I wanna go home…”

(Had it been different circumstances, you were already home.)

There were a few thoughts running through Zayne’s mind when he was informed by Yvonne that you were checked into a room, only seven hours after you’ve returned from Skyhaven.

One: he’s relieved you’re safe. Considering your days of silence, it prompted him to check his phone more often than he would, hoping to hear something from you. You willingly came to Akso—likely for a check-up. Two: he feels an indescribable, repressed rage that was foreign to him.

An evaluation of your vitals showed you were slightly malnourished and dehydrated. It’s what’s reported to him by Greyson as he’s on his way to your room. But standing near your bed, Zayne instantly notes your eyes, circled by sunken, dark shadows and traces of puffiness that indicated long, agonizing tears. On top of it, your skin was slightly paler.

He needs to know what happened to you on Skyhaven.

Yet that was the last priority of the current matter.

You had been gazing out the windows looking over Linkon City, finally turning your head towards the door to see Zayne. He forgets his role as your doctor for a moment, seeing the silent plea in your eyes.

He barely has time to get a word out when he finally reaches your side. You throw yourself onto him, clinging to Zayne as you break into a horrific fit of sobs. Your tears soak into the pristine, rigid fabric of his white coat. You’re continuing to beg through this anguish, no coherent words leaving you.

And with utmost ease, he envelops you in a firm, protective embrace.

The warmth you had sought in those agonizing, isolated days—was finally here. It’s always been.

[the-uninformed-zennial]

Okay so I wanna talk about the ecosystem of a fandom space like Fable/Bound SMP and those that extend off of it.

(long post below)

So one of the things that kinda stands out to me is that many of the popular ships are just canon. Like… off the top of my head the only two popular ships that aren’t necessarily canon in Fable are Kaleidoscope (Midas x Malitae) and Prison Duo (Centross x Icarus). But even one of those has been hinted at being canon by Sherbert in a few streams so like???

Looking at this from the outside it’s almost worrying. But the thing is, I think it has to do with three different things that are all unique to the Fable/Mer/Bound (and adjacent) fandom(s) and might actually be the sign of a really warm and welcoming community (as the Fable & adjacent fandoms have always been imo).

Firstly, the medium. If these were not lore-heavy, highly improvisational, live-streamed stories the fandom wouldn’t be able to provide feedback and the creators wouldn’t be able to react to said feedback in time to adjust. Think about Hermitcraft, it’s highly improvisational, yes. But lore-wise it’s not super heavy and thus all ships kinda teeter on the edge of being canon or not canon. Likewise smth like Whitepine where it’s recorded beforehand (and I think scripted??) doesn’t give the creators the flexibility to adjust the content in the same way the fandom is moving as quickly as the fandom moves.

Secondly, the fact that the creators interact with the fandom. Hi, hello, I’m living proof of this cause if I hadn’t gotten picked up by Heyhay and Art I never would’ve gotten to become one of said content creators. But this goes far beyond that. This has to do with the fact that they listen and interact and bounce ideas off of their fan base. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it, the opinions and ideas you guys share out here do influence the story, even if it’s just confirmation that you guys are picking up what the creators are laying down. It still serves as a sounding board to see how well things are coming across, and speaking as a creator myself (albeit a newer one) I find it incredibly helpful.

Thirdly, the size. Obviously if this venn-diagram of fandoms was as large as say Hermitcraft or QSMP the content creators simply wouldn’t be able to keep up with the fandom and many ideas would get lost in the jumble. Even just with how large Fable got at it’s peak, there came a point where it was nearly impossible to keep up with the amount of fan art and theories that were being made. So I think this point kinda feeds back into the second, that having a smaller size helps the content creators keep up with the feedback they receive from their art and lead to the fandom having more influence on the story than anyone really realizes.

These three things work together to create a space where people get to feel heard and seen. One of the most enticing things about being a community member for me was having that ability to influence the story, to talk to the characters themselves, to poke them about things I wanted to know the answer to. And when they responded?? It was so cool! I remember I used to keep a tally of little things in the world that I had affected because of messages that had been sent during live chat. It wasn’t ever anything big, but sometimes it’s the little things that count. That’s why, as a creator now I try really hard to interact with community members. I know I’m obviously not one of the big creators in this space, but I still want to help you guys feel seen and heard, because that’s where so much of the magic of being a part of this fandom space comes from imo. And if I can help recreate what helped me fall in love with this fandom space even a little bit, I’ll do what I can.

Anyway, I’m just super grateful to this community and the fellow creators within it. I have been so lucky to be able to get to experience this fandom from both the community member and creator side and honestly it has just been one of the most overwhelmingly positive experiences of my life, from both sides of the spectrum. I know things like that are fickle. I know fandoms and people are always growing and changing and maybe that won’t always be the case. But I just wanted to say I really appreciate the community that has been built here and all the work that goes into keeping it a positive and safe space. So, thank you guys 💕

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞 || 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ||

A/n: on this kick again 🤭

If there was one thing Theodore James Bridgerton loved almost as much as his parents, it was his Uncle Colin. And with all the love a two-year-old could possess, Theo had made it his personal mission in life to scare Colin Bridgerton at every possible opportunity.

No one really knew how it started. Perhaps it was the infamous paint-on-the-face incident, or maybe it was simply that Theo found Uncle Colin’s reactions particularly hilarious. Either way, a war had been declared, and only one Bridgerton knew about it—and it certainly was not Colin.

The First Attack – The Surprise Under the Desk

It had been an unusually peaceful afternoon at Bridgerton House. Colin was in his study, completely engrossed in writing in his travel journal. With a quill in hand and deep in thought, he failed to notice the tiny figure creeping beneath his desk.

You, watching from the hallway, silently gasped as you spotted your son slithering like a little gremlin into the study, his small body barely making a sound as he tucked himself underneath Colin’s desk.

You barely had enough time to think as Colin, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking beneath him, dipped his quill into the ink, sighing deeply. “Ah, peace and quiet at la—”

“RAAAAHHH!”

A small but ferocious scream erupted from beneath the desk as Theo latched onto Colin’s leg, shaking it with all his two-year-old strength.

Colin let out an undignified yelp, nearly knocking over the entire ink bottle. His chair scraped violently against the floor as he practically levitated out of his seat.

“GOOD LORD—”

The entire house erupted with laughter as Colin clutched his chest, looking down to find a giggling little monster rolling onto the floor in pure joy.

You covered your mouth, shaking with laughter as Anthony walked by, not even surprised at this point. He paused, looked inside the study, saw Colin looking like he’d just seen a ghost, and simply nodded approvingly at Theo.

“Well done, son,” Anthony murmured as he walked past.

Colin pointed at the little menace, still rolling with laughter on the floor. “HE HAS NO FEAR.”

Theo gasped between giggles. “BOO, UNCLE COLIN!” The two year old oblivious to his Uncle's plight's

Colin groaned, rubbing his face. “Oh, it’s going to be a long few years.”

The Next Attack – The Closet Ambush

Colin was paranoid after the desk incident, but not paranoid enough. Not according to his younger sister at least.

Days later, Colin made his way toward the coat closet to retrieve his jacket before heading out to meet Benedict. What he didn’t know was that Theo had been placed in the closet moments before by Eloise, who had gleefully encouraged his schemes.

The door creaked open.

Colin reached inside, humming to himself—

“ROAR!”

A tiny blur launched itself at his legs.

Colin screamed.

Theo, laughing hysterically, wrapped his tiny arms around Colin’s knees while Eloise collapsed against the wall wheezing.

Anthony, walking by yet again, paused, took one look at the scene, and nodded with great approval.

“Impressive.”

Colin, clutching the doorframe for dear life, turned to Anthony, utterly betrayed. “Do you encourage this?”

Anthony smirked, scooping Theo up. “I’d be a terrible father if I didn’t.”

Theo, still giggling in his father’s arms, pointed at Colin. “I got you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin dragged a hand down his face. “Yes, yes, again.”

Eloise, still laughing breathlessly, grinned. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Colin groaned. “He’s two. What happens when he gets faster?”

Anthony’s smirk widened. “Then, dear brother, I suggest you start running.”

The Ultimate Attack – The Ghost of Aubrey Hall

Colin thought he had seen the worst of Theo’s antics.

He was wrong of course.

One late evening at Aubrey Hall, Colin was making his way toward the library when the candles suddenly flickered. The hallway was eerily silent, save for the faint sound of…

Giggling?

Colin paused, eyes narrowing. “…Hello?”

Silence.

Then—

A tiny white sheet with two poorly cut holes for eyes appeared in the doorway.

“OOOOOoooooOOOOHHHHHH!”

Colin nearly collapsed against the wall, his soul leaving his body.

“NO.”

The tiny ghost toddled forward, arms raised menacingly.

“BOO!

Colin flinched so hard that he stumbled backward, crashing straight into the wall.

Theo, delighted beyond belief, ripped the sheet off, his giggles shaking his tiny body.

“I GOT YOU, UNCLE COLIN! AGAIN!”

Benedict walked by, took one look at the scene—Colin collapsed on the floor, looking like he had seen death itself, Theo squealing with victory—and burst out laughing so loudly that you heard it from two rooms away.

Anthony entered next, arms crossed, shaking his head with pride.

“I swear, Colin, it’s as if you’re not even trying to defend yourself,” Anthony remarked.

Colin, still breathing heavily, glared at his older brother. “I am at war with a toddler, Anthony.”

Theo clapped his hands with joy. “UNCLE COLIN SAID WAR!”

Anthony smirked. “I’d surrender now if I were you.”

Benedict chuckled. “Or else you might not survive the next attack.”

Theo, eyes twinkling, pointed directly at Colin. “More boo laterrrr.”

Colin groaned, dragging a hand over his face, the man's heart still pounding in his chest.

“I have to sleep with one eye open for the next ten years, don’t I?”

Eloise, now arriving and hearing everything, smirked. “At least ten years.”

Colin sighed dramatically. “I hate all of you.”

Theo beamed. “Love you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin stared at him for a long moment before exhaling in defeat. “…Love you too, little menace.”

And so, the war between Theo and Uncle Colin continued—because for all his suffering, Colin secretly loved the chaos and most of all, Colin loved his adorable little nephew.

[xdeariex]

sfw dating abby headcannon

the minute i learn to write smut, it’s up.

— pushing this out to hopefully give me motivation to keep writing again and start posting.

—

- very organized, clean spaces. folds her clothes neatly in the dresser, leaves her shoes by the door and urges you to do so as well, wipes down the counter as soon as there’s a speck.

- housewife abby 🙏🙏

- stays home while you work. during the process of strength training and building muscle, abby learned that food is fuel and therefore hyper fixating on getting her fill of protein and nutrients– practicing recipes either she’d found online or picked up in one of the magazine at the grocery store

- you’d come home, shoulders more slumped than usual, feet dragging on the floor and the weight of your work bag obviously didn’t help. you almost walk toward the kitchen, hearing the sound of the sink running and pots clanging but a little voice in your head that belongs to abby reminds you of how you track in dirt unnecessarily when you don’t take your shoes off. you huff before doing so, setting your bag on the couch and turning the corner into the kitchen, finding abby humming along to the low sound of the music playing and stirring whatever concoction today would bring.

-“hey…” you breathed out in a tired , yet sweet voice, comforted by the mere thought of finally being back home with abby.

- abby perks up at the sound of your voice, smiling widely. “hey! didn’t even hear you come in.” she gives you most of her attention but the words on the recipe book page seem to take most of that.

- you stagger over to her, leaning on the counter as you look down at the book with her. “so what’s on the menu?” you tease– a nightly ritual.

- at your words, abby looks up again, hooking her arm around your waist and pulling you in. she explains what she’d been making and that she’s excited for you to try but not before giving you a long hug, inhaling the scent of your perfume that somehow managed to stay so potent throughout your ten hour work day. “missed you.” she mutters somewhere in between, and it isn’t until she has you in her arms, not distracted by cleaning or reading or cooking that she remembers just how much she’d been awaiting your return.

-she’ll have her arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you taste the food she’d made from a wooden spoon, she watches carefully for your facial expressions and full reaction.

-your stomach rumbles from the delicious taste, immediately craving more. “how much longer?” you ask, licking your lips of all the flavor.

-“almost done.” she’ll mutter in a focus, pecking your cheek softly before moving to rinse off the spoon.

-by the time you two are seated with warm bowls, she’s watching your reaction more than eating. you turn your head after nearly scarfing down the food, mouth still full, eyes widening in embarrassment at the thought of abby watching you. “what are you looking at?” you mumble around your food before swallowing.

-“was it gonna run away?” she teases before taking a bite of her own with a smirk.

-“shut up.” you chuckle, lighting shoving her shoulder.

-she leans down and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder now, a silent apology for the teasing.

[dollwrites]

ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅs ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° sᴇᴘʜɪʀᴏᴛʜ

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ standalone

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), mentor/student, tummy bulge, orgasm denial, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“Faster,” the word is a husky, bubbling whisper from Sephiroth’s lips, one that you didn’t see him shape the syllables of, but one that still shook you to your core nonetheless. as his pleasure sounds always did. “Harder.” you wanted to do what he commanded, even as your thighs trembled, and your feet turned inwards— your balance on your tippy toes threatening to slip away and have you tumbling face first into the dirt beneath them, you attempted to plant yourself firmer, and buck backwards. your ass cheeks slap against the leather of his coat and trousers as he stood, his clothes half undone and hanging from his chiseled frame. your own uniform had been completely discarded in a flurry of black and silver, and now lay in a defeated puddle of fabric and metal at your feet. with each smack and squish of your flesh against his solid thighs, his taut abdomen, you feel the might of his cock as it barrels through your core, and you cry out in ecstasy.

your walls flutter, happy to receive such a heaping offering of cock, and you hear a low hum from behind you— emanating from the depths of your mentor’s chest, and realize that he’s sealed his couplet to keep the moan from surfacing. even without attempting to look over your bare shoulder at him, you knew the sound well, and the visage that typically accompanies it. a knitting of thin, grey brows, and the little wrinkle that forms between them when he feels you clamp down on him just right. a rolling back of his olive gaze, the vertical slits blown out with lust until the pupils nearly overtake the entire iris. a tightening of his jaw muscles, and a bulging of the vein on his neck, so easily shrouded by silver tresses.

“Still so far from orgasming, yet you tighten around my cock as if you’re already begging for cum.” you can practically hear the subtle curve of Sephiroth’s mouth as he teases you, yet doesn’t move an inch out of position. flat footed and relaxed, with his hands not clinging to your hips, but still and straight at his sides. “What’s the matter? Just can’t help yourself?”

“Nn-nn…” you answer, unashamed of your eager reply. it was impossible to deny it anyways, what with the way you milked him now.

“The second you get my cock inside you, you forget all about pleasing yourself, no? Only servicing me matters?”

you nod, but the tepid pace, only what you could muster whilst also struggling to balance, was also frustrating you. of course, taking him fully to the hilt was pleasurable— to feel your lower tummy bulging in the shape of his cock when your netherlips kiss his base— but this speed was not nearly enough to make you cum. what you really wanted; nay, what you really needed to find fulfillment was the harsh grip of Sephiroth’s hands on your hips, the strength and quickness with which he typically fucked you, and the dizzying sensation of being tossed about a raging storm of his desire.

he would give you none of that today.

“P-please, Sephiroth… fuck, I need—“ your breath is ragged, your words threatening to tie your tongue into knots as you struggle through the plea, “I need it!”

he knew already what you were asking for, but he doesn’t reach for your hips. he does, however, shift behind you, but only to cross his massive arms over his broad chest, and with a tilt of his head, he taunts you once more. “You lost, 2nd Class.” he mutters. perhaps Sephiroth, who was also enjoying the tightness of your warm cunt, wanted to give in to your request and plow you silly, but he was showing restraint. even as his hips twitched, begging to boost your rhythm by beating themselves against your ass, he remains stoic. “You know the rules.”

you did, much to your own loathing. sparring with Sephiroth in the training room had rules. one such rule being that the loser ( you, more often than not ) would get no reward for their poor form.

your interior flutters and spasms around his thick, veiny cock, and Sephiroth allows a sigh to slip through his tiers, a sound of approval. “I’m going to cum, you know.” his rumbling baritone drops to a whisper as he leans close, one hand freeing itself and careening around your lower belly. it plants itself there, fingertips barely flicking and rubbing at your engorged button to coax a helpless mewl from your lips, and encourage your innards to tighten around him still. your head droops forward, chin tucked to your breasts.

“F-fuck—“

that’s when Sephiroth lips caressed the shell of your ear, his voice low with dastardly intent, but the smile remains upon them. “I could easily strum your little cunt, and give you that pleasure, too…” his voice trails off, but his fingers do not mirror his words. they rub in torturously slow circles, until you’re begging under your breath. “But I won’t,” he asserts, finally. “I’ll play with you just enough to keep it tight and drooling, until I cum, and then I’ll pull out and leave you begging for a release that will not come this day, or any of those that follow. Until you can best me properly.”