#to get the floor outside looking pretty again. even if i never saw it before i moved in

[yoshistory]

i bought sidewalk chalk and i tested it (all colors completely washable with even a brush of a lightly damp paper towel even if i leave it out for a few days) but i have a few neutral colors and im wondering if i could use them to hide the oil stains i can't get out around my place... im sure i could...

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: peircer eren x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, kinda pervy eren

Good girl

“Hello?” Your soft voice rang over the chimes as you entered the tattoo parlor.

The shop was quiet, seemingly empty besides the softening chimes of the door and surprised cursing down the long hall.

“Shit- yeah. Just give me a minute. My apologies” The culprit of the cursing called.

In the meantime, you took a look around the lobby. The reviews didn't do the place justice. The largest wall contained a bright colorful mural, contrasting beautifully with the dark floors and connected black walls.

While admiring the piece of artwork, heavy thudding from the long hallway turned your attention to the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

You never believed in love at first sight, up until now. You hadn't even known the man's name yet, but you craved him. The reviews warned you the entire staff was attractive but they clearly left out that this man was a god.

His long hair was pulled into a low bun, strands falling in his face, the color contrasting against his pale skin. He was tall, with a full sleeve on one of his muscular arms, and his green eyes had you drowning immediately. He couldn't be Onyankopon, they said he was a brother. Maybe Connie or, Levi-

“Hi, I'm Eren” He introduced himself after swallowing the large knot in his throat.

While in your own trance, you failed to notice how he froze the moment he saw you. The bright light you stood under showcased the sparkles of your pretty brown skin.

Your legs were on display as a result of the simmering heat outside, thick thighs causing them to roll up slightly. The fitted t-shirt you wore allowed the hardened buds of your nipples to peek through, despite the hot weather.

Eren never considered himself a pervert but the way his mind instantly thought about sucking on them till you begged him to fuck you had him thinking otherwise.

“Hi, I'm [☆]. Is this a bad time?” Oh, he could have come on the spot, your voice sounded even better without the numerous walls separating you and god your perfume had him wanting to devour you on the reception desk.

“No, no I just don't know how much I can do for you, the AC is out in all the rooms but mine and I don't even know how long that's gonna last so if you're looking for an hour long tat session you'll have to come back” He crossed his arms, muscles contracting against the white tee.

“Oh no, I'm just hoping to get a few piercings but I can definitely come back another time”

“No, I can do a couple of piercings. What were you thinking?” He grabbed the paperwork from under the counter, praying one of them would be your chest.

“Uh well, I want the other side of my nose, belly button, venus dimples, and my nipples but I understand if you can't do all of that or the last one I'll just come back”

“No, no I can do it,” He said too quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly before handing you the paperwork.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“Good girl. You're doing such a good job for me, pretty. Just hold on for one second, lovey”

He was currently doing your last dimple piercing. The pain was unimaginable at first but as soon as the praises left his mouth all was forgotten besides the growing stickiness that rested between your thighs.

He praised you after every piercing a variation of “Good girl” “You're doing such a good job for me” “That's it, baby. You did so good” flowed from his pink lips. You could never decide which throbbing to focus on, the one from your new piercing or the throbbing of your clit.

With three new holes in your body and damp panties, it was now time for the piercing both of you were dreading yet excited for.

“Do I just take my shirt off here?”

“Wherever you're comfortable, baby. You can go in the bathroom or stay in here and I'll give you some privacy” He felt like a teenage boy again. His dick twitching at the thought of seeing you exposed.

“No, it's okay you can stay in here I don't mind”

“Oh. Okay,” He perked up. Giving you some privacy he turned his back, pretending to be busy when in reality he was trying to think of anything but you getting undressed behind him. Despite his concentration, all he could focus on was the sound of your necklaces and bracelets clanking at the movements you made.

He knew your nipples were still hard, especially since he took advantage of the working AC and he wondered what your moans would sound like if he flicked his tounge repeatedly over the bud, or if he pinched them in front of the mirror while you begged him to fuck you as you pressed your ass against his hard-

“I'm ready” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts.

If his self control was any less he'd have gotten on his knees to worship you. There you were. Looking everywhere but him, tits exposed. If it weren’t for the fact other men besides him would see, he'd tattoo this image of you on his bare forearm.

“Are you ready?” He suppressed a groan.

“Mhm”

“Okay stand up for me” He led you to the mirror where he prepped each bud. During the process, you felt as if you could crawl into yourself. The most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on had his hands on your breast. Despite the occasion being nonsexual, you were convinced your arousal would start running down your thigh at any second.

“Is this okay?” He stood behind you.

You gave a simple hum of approval, thoughts gone as he explained how the process would go. You convinced yourself you could handle it, that it would all be over soon.

That was until he rolled the bud in between his fingers, the whimper you'd been holding escaping you.

‘fuck’ ‘fuck’

“Shit, I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to do that, please understand I had no malicious intentions I just” He stumbled over his words.

He was just explaining the step by step process of the piercing. He wasn't thinking, just craving. He wouldn't have realized his actions if it weren't for the sound you let out. The sound he knew he'd replay in his head the moment you left the shop, stroking his cock as he imagined it were you down on your knees in front of him.

“It's okay” You reassured him. Your big eyes staring up into his through the mirror.

“I didn't…I don't mind”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Before you knew it you were bouncing on his cock. His moans muffled as his mouth engulfed your breast. Tongue slightly grazing your nipple with the flickers of his tongue before sucking harshly.

He was stretching you out so good, leaky red tip repeatedly hitting your cervix as his frenum piercing brushed against your walls. The added pleasure contributing to the pace of your bounces as you chased your high.

“E-eren please” You whined, attempting to push his head away from the assault on your breast. His hair was everywhere, the ponytail holder long gone the moment your hands entangled in his hair. Your buds were so sensitive, every suck and swipe of his tongue had you squeezing around him, every clench releasing your cream that pooled at the base of his cock.

“Fuck” He groaned, reluctantly giving your boobs a break. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, groping the brown skin before placing a hard slap on your cheek.

“Talk to me, pretty. You like this? Like bouncing on daddy's cock hmm?” His arms wrapped around you tightly as he fucked up into you.

“Oh my- fuck” You gave him control. Your head resting on his shoulder as you let out pornographic moans into his ear.

“Answer me, mama” Another slap landed on your ass.

Before you had time to register the mix of pain and pleasure on your flesh, the gentle pressure of his finger rubbing circles on your puckering hole had you seeing stars.

“Fuck y-yes. I love it so much, daddy. Please don't stop” You whined. Tears of pleasure wetting the crook of his neck.

By no means was Eren a fast finisher but boy was he trying his best to hold on, you're pussy was just squeezing him so tight, the added tension on his scalp as you tugged on it every time he hit the spongy spot along your walls had his nails digging crescents into your skin.

“I'm so close, daddy, please”

“Let go mama” He pressed hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

In that moment you came, your pussy tightening around the large girth of his cock. Clear liquid squirting from you in streams as he continued his thrust. Your arousal splashing and dripping onto the chair.

With sweat dripping down his forehead, and stray hairs sticking to him, his thrust became sloppy and his breathing became heavier.

“S-shit” He whimpered, head thrown back as he came harder than ever. Repeatedly pushing his load back into your pussy.

“Lemme take you on a date. Please” He panted once you both came down, his hands roaming your body as he looked down at you, green irises peeking out behind his blown pupils.

“Okay, yea- oh” A broken moan escaped you as he moved your hips up and down his length once again.

“Eren” You whined

“Don't tell me you're wiped out after one round, pretty girl. I know you have more in you, mama. Be a good girl for daddy”

for my eren girlies. this is probably the fastest I've ever wrote bc i just needed peircer eren. oh also how do yall feel about pegging bc i feel peircer eren can be a bit subby sometimes ttm. mwah <3

pt.2 wit the pegging ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶꒱ྀི১

[skyrigel]

Simon had him and you all convinced that it was just sex and nothing more.

“No attachment.” He always said, everytime — sometimes so hurried and forgotten that it's just mumbled against your mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat.

Sometimes with so much urgency that it's lost between your moans, no attachment, babe, no attachment. And you believed him because it was really just sex, wasn't it ? There were no pretty dates and no fancy dinner at ritz, maybe those poorly wrapped ones he pretended he had not ordered and takeouts he brought along...but oh please, no attachments!

But maybe sometimes about those walks in the city where he would not so subtly grasp your hand, and you would catch him stealing glances at you while a teenager fiddled with his guitar, rhyming she came, my world lit with narcotic, I am addict.

No attachment but Simon's standing outside your workspace when it's raining —“I thought you might need it.” holding up the umbrella but those two words were there again when you were knee deep in the passanger seat and he was eating you out... because it was casual, right ? No attachment.

And it really didn't burn and ached until you got sick, real sick — puking your guts out and coughing until your ribs gave up, surely he wasn't the best role model of no attachment when he was panting to death as he picked your unconscious frame from the floor, you still remember the faint whisper of his ‘please don't leave me, please, please don't —’ over and over.

And if he wanted for no attachment then he should be gone. Gone and not come back because it was just sex...

Simon shouldn't be mopping the floor, and stirring your soup and touching your forehead every five minutes.

No attachment then why he's loading your grocery and taking out trash and doing your laundry, why he's wiping your tears and telling you it's going to be alright.

Why he's not leaving like he always did because there were no attachment right, but he's right here, tucking you in bed and washing your hair and reading you book.

“Is it some eccentric joke ? Why this Zaid is always growling ?—also when you get alright... we're gonna try it out, lovie.”

You blushed, but it wasn't just what he was suggesting but that word, it felt good.

“S-say it again.” You whispered, shifting your head in pillow. Simon turned back a page he was reading from, your scrunchie on his wrist.

“Zaid growled—” You screwed your face,“—oh, we'll try it—”

“last word. Your last word.”

“Oh.” He said, “Lovie...you don't like it ?”

You shaked your head, sniffing very unsexy-ly

“Call me that...I love it.” Simon pushed up the book up his face, his neck was pulsing with his many veins and you knew the blush that would be blooming on his hard face. Cute.

“Again.” You tilted your head, to get a look at his flushed out face.

“Okay Lovie...sleep now.” He grumbled, flicking your bedside lamp off and bookmarking the book with one of your scrunchie he removed from his wrist.

“Huh...Good night baby.” You said, waiting to be corrected, waiting for those two words to come and upside down it all.

But they never came, like they never even existed, never had a meaning to them at all.

No attachment, lost forever in darkness.

“G'night lovie.” He said so sweetly, and when you closed your eyes this time, you only saw daylight.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[triptuckers]

dawn - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  percy jackson x child of apollo!reader Summary:  percy wakes early because of a nightmare and you're not next to him Warnings:  swearing, mentions of nightmares, percy being scared :( Word count:  900 A/N: SHIFTING INTO PERCY JACKSON MODE AGAIN !!! I cannot wait for the show !!! also this is based on a head canon I saw once and now it's my favorite, enjoy!

percy hears you scream again. he needs to find you now.

he's been running for too long now, you've been screaming for too long. he could tell from your screams you had gone from scared to absolutely terrified.

and he knows you've been through as much as he has. it took a lot to make you scared. and something has made you terrified.

percy runs around the corner, gripping his sword tight. up ahead he can see a shadow. that must be you.

he takes off running again but as he gets closer to the shadow, it's not you. it's someone - or something - that is holding two very long, very sharp swords.

percy turns around and bolts through a door. you scream again. and again. he can't get to you. gods, he's going to lose you.

with a start, percy's eyes fly open.

he's breathing heavily and his hands are gripping the bedsheets. percy's chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself. he reaches out to you, but you're not next to him.

what if it wasn't a nightmare? fuck.

he pushes himself up with one elbow and notices the door to his cabin is slightly open. he can see you sitting just outside.

percy closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto his pillow. he frowns when they're damp. great, he was sweating. that means it was a really bad one.

'shit.' he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. there's no way he's getting any sleep now. at least not with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

he can tell it's very early in the morning. the sun is starting to rise, but it's still pretty dark outside. percy looks over to you again and notices a mug in your hands, steam rising from it.

after the nightmare he had, he just needs you close. so he gets up and puts on a sweater and boots before joining you outside.

you look up when you hear footsteps on the wooden floor.

'hi. did I wake you?' you say, reaching for percy and pulling him down to squeeze into the chair next to you, careful not to spill your drink.

'no.' his answer is short.

'nightmare?' you ask, noticing the collar of his shirt that sticks to his sweaty neck.

'yeah.' he moves to get closer to you, needing to be near you.

'want to talk about it?' you say, lazily running your fingers through his hair near the back of his neck.

percy sighs softly. 'lately it's the same one.' he says. 'you're somewhere, I don't know where, I can't see you. but I can hear you. you're screaming for help, for me to come get you out of wherever you are. but there's this big guy chasing me and I can never get to you in time.'

he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown the image out.

'it's okay.' you say. 'I'm here now.'

'I know you are. you think I can ask any of the gods if they can stop the nightmares?'

you chuckle softly. 'it's worth a shot.'

'hey, wait. why weren't you next to me when I woke up?' he says, remembering the moment the nightmare shook him awake.

he turns slightly so he can look you in the eye, brows slightly furrowed. 'do you still have nightmares?'

'sometimes.'

'but they didn't wake you tonight?'

'no.'

'wait, so you willingly got up at the ass crack of dawn?'

you smile. 'also no.'

'you're usually up early, though. even on quests when you're exhausted but we need to go on, you're always the first one awake. perks of being apollo's kid?'

this time you laugh softly. 'no, more like downside of being his kid.'

percy frowns again. 'what are you talking about?"

'well, everyone wakes at dawn. look, will's awake as well.' you say, pointing to your cabin in the distance. 'michael is just coming back from getting his coffee. I saw lee as well.'

percy still looks confused. you're tempted to give him some weird reason and have him figure out I fit's real or not. but he might not even believe the truth.

'you know how apollo uses his chariot to ride across the sky to give us the sunrise, right?' you say.

'yeah, you told me about that.' says percy.

'well, when he does that he blasts heavy metal at a frequency only apollo kids can hear. so we can see him in the sky in all his glory.'

'seriously?'

'his words, not mine.'

percy laughs. 'that does sound like apollo, yes.'

'it's nice, tough. waking up before everyone else does. especially the younger kids.'

'hey, next time, wake me up okay?'

'I prefer to let you sleep. that's why I always get up quietly.'

'I know, and I appreciate it. but this is nice, just us.'

'us and all of my cabin.'

'well, yeah, but you're the only apollo kid sleeping in my cabin.' says percy, nudging your shoulder an smiling.

'and it better stay that way.' you say, smiling as well. 'I call dips on the shower.'

you lean in to kiss his cheek and get up, letting percy enjoy the rest of the sunrise on his own.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[benevolentbones]

me before you | spencer reid x reader

warnings: angst!!! kidnapping, graphic depictions of injury, death, female reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: you go missing on a job and spencer goes ballistic

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy a touch of angst! i think this is my longest fic i’ve ever written:) reblogs & comments appreciated <3

“where is she.” spencer’s voice boomed as he bursted into the conference room. every set of eyes in the cramped police department office shot to the loud sound.

spencer stood in the doorway, his fbi vest still strapped to his body. his hair was disheveled and brushed off of his face, his white button up was half buttoned and the sleeves were messily rolled up to his elbows.

his eyes scanned the room, flickering over the local police force until they landed hotch. he stormed into the room, his face contorting with rage. before hotch could even utter a word out, spencer’s hands were on him, gripping a handful of the older man’s shirt.

“where is she, hotch.” he snarled, hotch using his hands to create a distance between him and spencer.

derek immediately jumped up, pulling spencer’s flailing form off of his superior. everyone watched in shock and horror, spencer had never acted like this, and certainly not on a case.

“we don’t know.” hotch stated, a calmness to his voice, but he was as just concerned as spencer was.

“why- get off of me-“ spencer fought back in morgan’s strong hold eventually breaking free after lashing around.

“why did you let her go in without back up- are you out of your fucking mind.”

“outside. now.” hotch breathed, he didn’t want complete strangers to witness whatever was about to occur. he walked calmly through the doors, his oxfords thudding against the marbled floor.

spencer followed suit after shaking derek off, his steps messy as he fumbled behind hotch, who made a turn into a private empty office.

“reid-“

“no. don’t go there- what were you fucking thinking hotch-“

aaron leaned against the desk, his arms folded over his chest. spencer stood a few feet across from him, pacing the room.

“we didn’t know what we were in for, the house was clear..” he trailed off, recounting the events that took place an hour prior.

~

you, derek and hotch were staking out the potential unsubs house, it was a bungalow in the suburbs and a pretty run down one at that, sitting behind the van you had driven in.

“morgan, take the front. y/n, follow me around the side.” hotch spoke, his dark eyes landing on you.

you nodded, following the older man to the side of the house. from your position you could hear derek shout.

“FBI open up-“ followed by the sound of the door slamming open.

you continued to follow hotch to the back entrance, which he swiftly broke down and then entered the house.

he held his gun up, doing a sweep of the back room. “clear” he yelled out,

from the next room over he could hear morgan yell back. “hotch look at this-“

the dark haired man quickly walked to where morgan was.

they stood in the middle of the living room, the place was run down and smelled like mold. on the weathered coffee table laid a videotape recorder and a note.

hotch bent down, picking up the note. the words ‘i got you, your turn.’ were etched onto the page, hotch turned his attention to derek who beared the same confused expression.

“what does that even mean? l/n get in here.” he yelled out, attempting to get your attention to see if you could help make sense of things.

a few moments passed before he called out again. “y/n?”

hotch walked to where he had left you, the back door was still wide open, he eyes trailed down to the ground, which was when he saw it.

your gun.

from outside the sound of a engine starting up rattled, the tires screeched as the vehicle pulled onto the road.

fuck

“morgan, take the camera and the note- she’s not here.”

~

“what so you’re telling me you left y/n on her own? knowing that she fit the description of all the unsubs victims- you can’t, you can’t be-“ spencer cut himself off, letting out a choked sob.

“reid i am sorry. we will find her.” hotch reached a hand out to touch spencer’s shoulder, a wave of sadness washing over his body as he watched spencer begin to break down.

with hazel eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall, spencer sunk into hotch’s embrace. letting out shaky breaths in between cries.

“you- have to get her back- i need her- she-i can’t let her- go first.“ hotch rubbed soothing circles on spencer’s back, which proved to be hard through the bulletproof vest.

“we will find her, reid. let the team work, go home. you need rest.”

hotch was right, it was nearing two in the morning and spencer had not slept for almost thirty six hours. the circles under his eyes were noticeably more dark, looking nearly hallowed out.

spencer pulled away from the hug, his doe eyes red and puffy from the crying.

“i’ll send morgan with you, we will notify you when we find something. and we will.”

“okay. thanks.” the younger male sniffled, his tired eyes meeting hotch’s as he walked out of the office.

~

your eyes blinked awake, a slight grogginess to your vision. the florescent lighting above you hurt your eyes and your head ached.

you attempted to move but felt your hands and legs bound, your eyes darted around the room. you were tied up, sitting on a wooden stool, the room was practically barren except for a pile of sheets in the corner, a table lined with tools and a camera on a tripod. the red light blinking intermittently.

you spotted a small rectangular window at the very top of the wall, it was covered in weeds from the outside. i’m in a basement.

you wriggled, attempting to break free but only causing yourself to get rope burn, you hissed in pain.

“fuck sake.”

the metal door in front of you swung open, revealing a tall man dressed in black. he had an eerie grin etched on his face, his striking blue eyes staring at you like you were something to eat.

“hello agent l/n, nice to see you’re finally awake.” his voice sounded rough, as you ambled into the door, closing the door over leaving it a few inches ajar.

“thomas wilson.” you spat out.

“you have a smart team, y/n. you managed to find me just after five kills. bravo.” his voice laced with a mocking tone.

“it’s a shame they didn’t have your back.”

you stayed silent, eyeing his form as he began to circle the stool you sat upon.

“but i fear- this may be my last kill, so i’m going to be thorough.”

you felt your stomach drop. you were hoping, praying that maybe the team was on the way, that they would be able to get here in time.

you tried your best to read thomas, you could tell by the way he limped around you that he was injured, and he didn’t seem a hundred percent confident in himself. maybe you had a chance.

“how’d you get hurt? i’m a medic, i could help you thomas. you don’t have to-“ your attempt at empathy was cut off by a strike to your face.

the man pulled back his fist, as you slowly recoiled your head. you could feel your eyes swell, staring intensely at him through wisps of your hair that fell over your face.

“silence. we don’t have much time. i need to prepare.” he muttered to himself, walking towards the table to your right.

you racked your brain, trying to think about the other victims and their similarity to you. hair colour, eye colour, frame and stature, age. but they were all single women, involved in prostitution in one way or another. maybe you could convince him that way.

“i’m engaged, thomas.” you spoke, trying to get his attention. “i know your other victims were all single- i have a fiancé.”

“where’s the ring.” he didn’t bother looking back at you, your empty hand flexed into a fist. you never wore your ring on the field.

“i can show you photos- my phone, it’s in my jacket pocket.” you were trying to delay whatever he had planned, you were grasping at straws.

thomas limped towards you, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your phone. it was turned off, but he rebooted it, unlocking it and going straight for your camera roll.

he caught the bait.

~

“sir- y/n’s phone just turned back on.” garcia practically shouted.

“can you track it? -emily alert the swat team now.”

“on it sir.”

the majority of the team piled into cars, fbi vests strapped to their bodies. garcia sent the location to hotch and the cars sped off, it was just twenty miles from where you were taken.

“you sure this is the right place?” hotch spoke out into his phone, a slight anxiousness to his voice which didn’t go unnoticed by penelope.

“yep. i quadruple checked, the satellites picked up the van dropping the unsub and a victim at this exact address.” garcia stated from the other end of the line, faint clacking of the keyboard could be heard from her side.

“thank you, garcia. keep me posted.” he muttered before ending the call and stuffing the phone into his pocket.

“did anyone tell morgan?” hotch spoke, morgan had brought reid home and was told to stay with him incase of any updates.

“just now sir.” emily spoke, shutting her cellphone.

~

“see- that’s me and my fiancé, spencer. he works with me.” you stated as thomas scrolling through thousands of pictures of you and spencer.

you could tell this caught him by surprise, you were sure his other victims probably pleaded for their lives, saying they had families and partners to get back to. it made you feel sick.

“it’s not too late- thomas please let me go, i don’t want to leave him.” you mumbled out, fighting back tears at the thought of how distraught spencer must feel right now.

“i- i cant it’s too late. i have to do this.” he stuttered out, still scrolling through pictures on your phone, his face frowning when he came across your engagement photos.

“can i call him, can i say goodbye?” your eyes met his pale ones, you could see from his expression he was thinking things over.

“fine.”

he searched up spencer’s name on your phone, pressing the call button and holding it beside your ear.

spencer was in a car when his phone started to buzz, morgan had received the call about your location and immediately told spencer who refused to let the older man leave without him.

spencer picked up immediately once your contact came up on his phone.

“y/n- are you okay- are you hurt?” he blurted into the phone, putting it on speaker so derek could listen in. he felt a sudden relief at the sound of your voice.

“spence. i- i’m not hurt.” you paused briefly, eyeing the man next to you. he was listening in. “spence, i love you so much.” you mumbled out, white hot tears staining your cheeks.

“baby? what’s happening.” spencer questioned, his hazel eyes beginning to well up.

“i love you- and i’m sorry, i don’t think i have much time left.”

“no. no no no- you promised- me before you-you can’t leave me“ he rambled out, his heart sinking as tears began to flood from his eyes. derek gripped the steering wheel, pressing his foot down on the pedal, they were nearly there.

“i know baby- i tried-“ you choked out a sob, hearing spencer crying broke you.

thomas was getting visibly frustrated, his grip on your phone tightened. “that’s enough.” he muttered out.

“i have to go spence- i’m sorry i love you so much.” and with that, thomas had ended the call. tears streamed down your face as you tried to muster up the ability to stop.

the older man ambled back to the table, he had laid out a number of weapons. you recalled the details of how the other victims died, each one exactly the same down to the last cut. thomas likely suffered from remorseful ocd.

the man turned back to you, a knife in his grasp. he could tell he was battling within himself, he didn’t want to do this, but he felt like he had to. you could faintly hear the sound of cars passing the house, praying that someone would show up.

“i’m sorry” he muttered out as he brought the knife to your collar bone, pressing it into your skin and dragging it across.

you screamed, a wave of pain engulfing you. blood quickly began to trickle from the laceration, staining your white shirt a crimson hue.

if this was how you were going to die, you were going to make sure it haunted him forever. your eyes locked onto his, forcibly making eye contact as he switched to your left side, beginning to slice the other side of your collar precisely.

you gritted your teeth, feeling the cool metal of the knife drag across your skin. he pulled back, now pressing the bloodied knife to your throat. he was behind you, all you could do was stare straight ahead at the door in front of you.

suddenly the door burst open, hotch standing before you with a swat team piling into the room.

“drop your weapon.” he commanded, his voice booming as he pointed his gun at unsub. you have never been so relieved to see aaron hotchner in your life.

“i can’t, i have to do this.” thomas muttered out, his hand shaking as he pressed the knife to your throat. he began to press it firmly against your skin, you winced out at the pressure.

hotch immediately fired a shot, the bullet sinking into the unsubs shoulder causing him to fall back and shout in pain. a member of the swat team rushed to thomas, restraining the male as he put a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

hotch was by your side in seconds, unbinding your hands and legs. “are you okay?” he questioned, concern lacing his usually stoic voice.

you nodded, rubbing your throat once your hands were free. you attempted to stand up, wobbling as you placed your feet on the ground, you felt weak, the bleeding around your collars had slowed but you were still losing blood.

“let me.” hotch scooped you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs and out of the house. it was dark, and there was a swarm of swat cars and an ambulance waiting for you.

a car pulled up to the scene, the passenger door swung open and spencer stumbled out, barely getting his seatbelt off.

“y/n?!” he called out, scanning the area, once his eyes landed on your form in hotch’s arms he sprinted over.

“spence-“ you began before you were engulfed in a tight hug, hotch passed you over to spencer, making his way to the ambulance to alert the medics.

“i thought- you were-“ he blubbered out, his eyes puffy from crying.

he fell to his knees, his hold on you not wavering. you wrapped your arms around his neck to the best of your ability. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you in his arms.

“i’m going to get blood on you-“ you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

he let out a short laugh, followed by a small cry.

“i’m okay spence- i love you, i’m okay.” you reassured him.

“i’m never letting you go again.” he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea

[myth1cs]

Closing shift (Chou Tzuyu x M!Reader)

Twice Smut ... I'm sorry Word Count: 2283

Working the closing shift at a cafe was always relaxing for me.

It was always mostly empty and I was able to relax with the soft piano music playing in the cafe. Along with the fact that it was now snowing and I enjoyed seeing the snow fall making the outside look pretty. But today was even better as I got to work with Tzuyu.

I was behind the register counting the money and I couldn't help but stare at Tzuyu while she was cleaning the tables. The way her jeans hugged her legs so tightly was so addicting.

I must have been staring for too long because out of no where Tzuyu spoke up. "Can I help you Y/N?" Tzuyu said while looking at me in the eyes.

"O-oh no I was just lost in thought" I didn't know if Tzuyu would believe me.

"Well okay Y/N but just focus on finishing your work so we can close the cafe." Tzuyu said before she got back to work.

I tried to go back to doing my task but I couldn't stop thinking about Tzuyu. The way her hips swayed when she walked and her butt that looked like it would feel so tight around my cock. Everything about Tzuyu was just so addicting.

"Y/N when are you going to stop acting?" I looked up and saw Tzuyu was staring at me.

"What do you mean Tzuyu?"

"Oh don't act dumb Y/N I see you and how you stare at me. You want to have sex with me don't you?"

Tzuyu walked up to me crossing her arms and looked me dead in the eyes.

"No I would never-"

Tzuyu suddenly pulled me close to her and whispered into my ear. "It's okay cause I want to do it with you to."

I pulled Tzuyu into a kiss and started to put my hands on her body. Tzuyu kissed back roughly and we made out.

Suddenly Tzuyu dropped to her knees and started to pull my pants down. "Y/N are you ready?" I nodded to signal to Tzuyu she could start sucking.

She was really good my legs started shaking. I didn't know Tzuyu was so-

"Y/N WAKE UP"

I got up and saw Tzuyu looking at me slightly annoyed.

"Wh-what happened?"

"You fell asleep on the counter is what happened. I've been shaking you to wake up but you never did so I started screaming."

I felt embarrassed. I can't believe I dreamed having sex with Tzuyu.

"I'm sorry Tzuyu I'm just really tired right now." I apologized profusely to Tzuyu and she let out a sigh.

"Look Y/N I understand but I want to go home and I can't go until we both finish our tasks."

"It won't happen again I promise."

"Just hurry up and don't fall asleep this time." Tzuyu said as she went back to cleaning the tables. I pulled myself together before I went back to doing my tasks.

The next day came around and once again I had the closing shift with Tzuyu. This time I was doing the dishes while Tzuyu mopped the floor. Suddenly the power went out and the backup generator kicked in bringing back some light to the cafe.

Suddenly I got a weather alert on my phone and it said that there was a blizzard and to stay off the roads.

Suddenly Tzuyu came into the kitchen. "Did you get the weather alert to Y/N?" I nodded and Tzuyu sighed "Well we can't go home in this weather so I guess we're stuck here."

"Well blizzard or no blizzard we still have to get our tasks done."

"Ugh don't remind me!" Tzuyu said looking upset "But you're right let's just finish and we can figure out what to do from there." Tzuyu groaned as she went back to mop the floor.

After thirty minutes we both finished our tasks and we both went in the break room and were on our phones to pass the time until suddenly the lights went out and it started getting cold.

"Why is it getting so cold in here?" Tzuyu said while shivering.

"The backup generator probably failed."

"Well fuck Y/N what are we gonna do now? Freeze our asses off until the weather calms down?"

"Didn't you bring a jacket with you?"

"I did but I left it in my car." Tzuyu said probably regretting she didn't just bring it in and leave it in the break room.

"Y/N let's cuddle."

When I heard that I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming again.

"You want to cuddle?"

"Yeah so we can share body heat, I don't want to freeze in here."

I moved closer to Tzuyu and wrapped my arms around her while she did the same."

To say I felt slightly weird would be an understatement. I was having a hard time trying to calm myself so my cock wouldn't start rising. Being able to feel Tzuyu's breath on me wasn't helping.

I tried to push my dirty thoughts away but I felt my cock was rising.

"Tzuyu I need to go use the restroom do you mind?"

"Don't take too long Y/N." Tzuyu said as she unwrapped her arms around me.

I quickly got up and made my way to the bathroom that was in the break room. I quickly took my pants off and started to pump my cock so I could relieve myself. I tried keeping my moans low so Tzuyu wouldn't hear but I suddenly heard other moans that weren't mine.

I slightly opened the bathroom door and saw Tzuyu with her jeans off fingering herself. "Ah~ Y/N why would you dream about fucking me instead of just asking me to fuck you."

Without putting my pants back on I walked closer to Tzuyu to confirm I wasn't hearing things.

"Fuck Y/N why can't you just ask me out already?"

As I was walking closer to Tzuyu the floor suddenly creaked which made Tzuyu suddenly look in my direction.

"Y/N? I thought you were using the bathroom ... no wait why are your pants off?"

"Tzuyu why were you fingering yourself?" Tzuyu suddenly blushed and looked away.

"Why are you even asking I'm sure you heard what I was just saying."

I sat down next to Tzuyu feeling the cold couch.

"How did you know I was dreaming about having sex with you yesterday?"

"I heard you moaning my name while you were dreaming yesterday. You were also breathing heavily while we were cuddling so I just assumed." Tzuyu said with a smile looking at me once again.

"Well Tzuyu you said you were cold and that I should ask to fuck you so how about we take care of both those problems?"

Tzuyu took off her apron and her shirt and leaned in to kiss me. I kissed Tzuyu roughly and we held each other close.

Tzuyu started to take off my shirt and apron and threw it across the room. We were both extremely cold but we didn't care.

As our kiss turned more intimate I put a finger inside Tzuyu's pussy which elicited a moan from her. Tzuyu's pussy gripped my finger extremely tight. "Tzuyu is this your first time?"

Tzuyu nodded "Yes Y/N this is my first time. Am I also your first?" I shoved another finger inside of Tzuyu before responding "This is the first time for me also."

My other hand went up and grabbed Tzuyu's breasts. They were bigger than I thought. I squeezed her soft breasts and put another finger inside of Tzuyu.

"Ah ~ Fuck yes Y/N finger my pussy it's yours now."

The amount of heat we were in made us forget all about how cold it was. I continued thrusting my fingers into Tzuyu until she squirted all over my fingers. "Do you want to know how you taste like Tzuyu?" Tzuyu nodded and I let her suck my fingers clean.

While Tzuyu was laying down on the couch trying to calm herself down after reaching her high I walked over to the mini fridge in the break room and pulled out a block of ice. I walked back over to Tzuyu and shoved the ice block inside of Tzuyu's pussy.

"AH FUCK Y/N ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Tzuyu yelped from the extreme cold of the ice cube.

Before she could keep complaining I shoved my cock into Tzuyu's mouth and started thrusting in and out of her mouth. Tzuyu started running her tongue along my cock.

While I was using Tzuyu's mouth for my pleasure I used this opportunity to explore Tzuyu's body with my hands.

After some time I pulled out and Tzuyu started gasping for air. I pulled the ice cube out from Tzuyu's pussy to help her relax.

I turned Tzuyu over so her face was facing down on the couch. My cock was covered in Tzuyu's saliva so I wasn't worried about finding it hard to shove my cock inside Tzuyu's ass.

"Y/N please let me relax a bit first."

I didn't want to stop yet but I also didn't want Tzuyu to have a bad first time having sex.

I massaged Tzuyu's back while I grabbed the ice cube that was in Tzuyu's pussy and put it in my mouth.

Tzuyu's juices tasted delicious honestly I would want to taste her everyday if I could.

I continued to massage Tzuyu's back to help her relax. Eventually she spoke up "Okay Y/N I'm good now."

"Are you sure we can stop if you want."

"No Y/N trust me I'm fine."

With Tzuyu's permission I put my cock in Tzuyu's tight ass and started to thrust in her at a fast pace.

"YES Y/N FUCK MY ASS" Tzuyu screamed

I spanked her ass leaving a red mark on her ass cheek.

I started to pick up the place and started to squeeze Tzuyu's ass. Tzuyu couldn't stop moaning and she wasn't able to form any words.

I felt myself reaching my high and I thrusted as fast as I could inside Tzuyu. Eventually I came inside Tzuyu's ass. So much cum came out of me some started to leak out of Tzuyu's ass.

"Y/N that was great your cum made me so warm." Tzuyu looked at my cock and realized it was still hard. "Want to do one more round?"

I nodded and asked her if I could cum in her pussy.

Tzuyu smiled "You can go ahead, you can cum in my pussy if you want. Don't worry I'm on birth control so don't worry about me getting pregnant."

With Tzuyu's permission I went ahead and turned Tzuyu over so I could look at her face and then I put my cock inside of Tzuyu's pussy.

"Ah fuck Y/N stop for a minute and let me adjust to your cock."

I stopped and looked at Tzuyu worriedly. "I can pull out if you're in too much pain."

"No Y/N don't pull out just give me a minute."

"Okay Tzuyu but if it ever becomes too much for you just tell me. I don't want you to have a bad first time."

"Thank you for worrying about me Y/N."

After a few minutes Tzuyu told me to continue and I continued to put my cock deep inside Tzuyu.

I started off slow and Tzuyu whined for a while but eventually she adjusted and started to beg for me to go faster.

"Y/N ... faster please."

I quickened up my pace and we were both moaning as loud as we could not caring about anything else in the world other than each other.

"Y/N I'm going to cum."

"Tzuyu hold it for me. I want us to cum together."

"Please hurry Y/N I can't hold it for much longer."

I thrusted as fast as I could to help myself cum faster as I knew it was only a matter of moments before Tzuyu came.

"Y/N I'M CUMMING!"

We both came at the exact same time. Tzuyu's pussy was leaking a mix of both of our cum.

I pulled out and laid on top of Tzuyu and we started to kiss each other again. Our hands were on each others bodies again. Feeling Tzuyu's perfect body was something I could never get enough of.

Eventually we fell asleep on each other, exhausted.

The next morning came and we were both woken up by our manager yelling.

"Y/N AND TZUYU WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!"

"Mrs. Minatozaki we have a good excuse!"

"REALLY Y/N? THEN EXPLAIN WHY YOU GUYS ARE NAKED AND WHY THE WHOLE ROOM SMELLS LIKE SEX! TELL MY WHY I SHOULDN'T FIRE BOTH OF YOU RIGHT NOW!"

Mrs. Minatozaki was right we didn't have a good excuse.

"Mrs. Minatozaki we'll clean this whole place up and leave." I said and looked at Tzuyu who nodded.

"Wait you guys don't have to leave I'm not firing you guys over this."

"Thank you Mrs. Minatozaki you have no idea how much-"

"Under one condition."

Mrs. Minatozaki walked closer to us looking at our naked bodies on top of each other.

"Let me join you guys next time."

Before I could even process what Mrs. Minatozaki said Tzuyu went ahead and agreed to her terms "You can join us next time."

"Great, oh and call me Sana from now on. Now get yourselves cleaned up and get dressed. Your both working extra hours today."

We both groaned knowing it was going to be a long day.

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

I've been busy recently so expect the next week or so to be slow. But I'll still try to write stuff.

[withonly-sweetheart]

di leon kennedy doing pushups ;) inspired by this (suggestive) art by @bunnivievve because i think artists have too much power. lowkey im typing this out so fast rn im tweaking i have exams tomorrow NOOOOOOOO-

<><><><>

your husband joined the police force. great. awesome. what a wonderful sight, at least it is for all the people watching on the outside. the picture perfect couple; a loving wife and a valiant husband to match.

what they never saw were the late nights up, studying the same textbook about a trillion times over, pretty much memorizing the goddamn contents of it before stumbling into your bed.

his body might be warm but that warmth always abandons you in what seems like a second, the snap of his fingers, because it's become a recurring instance that he's left early to train.

always making good impressions, that man. and you're proud of him, you have to be and you're not ashamed to show it. you've seen his growth, his courage that he displays, the hurt he has to suffer through all to keep the city safe. his city, where you are. his heart.

which is why it comes as a surprised when your husband, a man you've been married to for seven years, comes up to you with a bashful expression, eyes darting left and right, grazing all the corners of the world.

"do you... uhm... think... i'm strong?" you blink, dazed.

"why? what's wrong?"

"well, some of my higher ups had some concerns about... strength. they wanted me to 'strengthen my core'." he chuckles. "whatever that means."

"and you came to me for that," you drone.

"i've seen you do all those exercises around the house!" he protests. "can't you just teach me a few?"

"first of all, those are to help with cramps, and second, no." it seems like he's given up, but you know him well enough to know that that will never be the case.

"aw, c'mon, please?" he murmurs, taking your hand into his, caressing the bottom of your knuckles, rubbing soothing circles into your fingers. "just once?"

so you find yourself relenting to the man who always knows what to say to get you to crack. maybe next time you should be more demanding, hm?

needless to say, it's all made up for when you stretch out into the first pose, a simple sitting position with your legs extended fully, fingertips reaching the tips of your toes.

leon nods, and he gets the sitting part right. but when he tries to copy your movements, he hisses and leans back, groaning with the effort.

"what's wrong, officer kennedy?" you tease. "scared you'll break a hip bone?"

"quiet," he grumbles. "i'm just a little sore from yesterday."

"of course, of course, a very busy day running errands, such as picking up doughnuts, might i add?"

he scowls at you and tries again, and again, but every time he can't seem to cope with the fact your flexibility, even at your maturing age, is better than his, even with all his rigorous training.

"looks like you couldn't do it," you say smugly, smirking directly at him, angling your body to face him. "told you so."

"i think it's my turn now," he says, creeping towards you. and this time he seems to have the prowess of a panther, easily slotting himself into place above you.

"your turn for what?" you ask, somewhat suggestively. he grins.

"how 'bout i show you what i've learned?"

fuck, you'll never doubt him again, will you? his sweet, submissive girl, arching beneath him, one hand pressed on the floor near your head, keeping him supported. the other is clasped behind his back, in an ethereal tilt that has his chest hair hitting all the right angles of the dying sun.

your knee is thrown over his shoulder, and the position should be awkward, you think, yet it feels as natural as anything. he pistons his hips further into you, and he's been mumbling something in your ear since he started.

now that you can hear him better through his rough, sloppy pants, you hear a steady rhythm. "twenty-five... twenty-six..."

he's counting, you realize after your mind-shattering orgasm, whimpering underneath him as he finishes, muscles flexing in a manner you'd never thought to admire until you realize why.

he's counting the pushups, god, that's all he's been doing this whole time. and you'd be damned if you didn't send a silent prayer of thanks back to the academy, where they trained him to do this.

but you're sure this isn't how they expected him to apply it in real life. hey, what can you say? seems like you're finally enjoying your husband's career and all the perks it comes with.

"my pretty wife, going around doing all those stretches, driving me fucking crazy bending over like that," he rambles, lowering himself to shower your face in messy kisses before tilting his head back to the side with a hiss, lifting himself back up.

back up and back down, a slower pace with his upper body while his lower half rails into you, and all you can do is lie there, helpless to what he gives you, craving more yet somehow satiated at the same time.

"yeah, mmm, fuck, just like that-" he breaks off his counting to whisper sweet nothings in your ear for the second time that evening, pushing his spend back in while you grasp for purchase on his biceps, feeling the hardened muscle lurch back towards you as you dig your nails deep into his skin.

"needed that, didn't you?" you whisper breathlessly after he collapses onto the hard wooden floor next to you. his eyes shine with effort and pride, and after a low exhale, he immediately scoops you up.

he carries you back to the bedroom, where he lies you down onto the comforters, making sure you're comfortable before trailing up and down your neck with soft, carefully measured kisses once again.

"w-what're you doing?" you murmur, twitching under the overstimulation. leon's eyes have shifted to a deeper color, a darker lilt to his eyes when he reaches your gaze.

"i can do better than that, sweetheart."

"better?" you ask jokingly, because what could make him better? anything better than that is a menace to society, you decide.

he sighs, shaking his head before cupping your body with his hand again, rubbing your skin in such a doting gesture that you don't expect his next words.

"i said a hundred, sweetheart. i didn't even make it to fifty."

series masterlist

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold. 

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together. 

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking. 

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving. 

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.” 

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served. 

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.” 

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.” 

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist. 

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end. 

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips. 

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-” 

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting. 

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

[the-record]

☀️ i see the light ☀️

summary: ellie is just trying to hide from the guards when she stumbles apon a tower and a girl with really long hair.

pairing: flynn ryder!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader

warnings: non me things

a/n: i want to thank the oh so lovely @meowmeowtimw for sending me their gorgeous art, and also everyone who anticipated this fic. thank you so much for the love. also, first time doing a taglist, but let me know if you’d like to be added!

this is going to be done in parts bc my tumblr glitches and i dont want to lose any writing and delay this anymore! i have changed it up a bit from the movie to attempt to fit ellie as a character and not feel like im writing out the script but all the iconic moments will be included

you’re not quite sure how she ended up here. knocked out and stuffed in your wardrobe.

earlier, it had just been you and pascal. your mother out fetching ingredients for dinner, your birthday dinner.

she’d shut down your hopes and dreams of seeing the lights you saw every year for your birthday. she called them stars, made you feel fragile and weak. left with a half hearted goodbye.

thats when the girl showed up.

short auburn hair, climbing the tower with arrows. before you knew it, she was passed out on the floor, a frying pan in your hands.

in her bag though, that was the interesting piece. something gold and shiny, crystals decorating the circle. too big to be a bracelet, too beautiful to be a magnifying glass.

you and pascal jumped as your mother called up the tower, a surprise apparently. when you tried bringing up the lights once more, she’d simply laughed, brushing it off. you tried again, but gave up when she yelled, asking for paints.

she left, leaving you alone again. until you weren’t.

a girl, in your window.

now in your chair, tied up with pascal on her shoulder. he licked her ear, once, twice, three times before she jolted awake with a yell.

“what the hell?”

you took a deep breath, still hiding in a shadow.

“struggling… struggling is pointless.”

she looked around, taking in what was holding her down. was it, hair?

“i know why you’re here, and im not afraid of you.” slowly, you stepped into her view. “who are you, and how did you find me?”

“am i wrapped in hair?” the girl gawked at you, struggling under the wraps. “who am i? who are you? this is insane. this is kidnapping, just so you know.”

your face dropped. “you broke in first.”

“and you knocked me out and tied me up! with hair! who even has this much hair?” she groaned as she struggled.

“so you dont know who i am?” you whispered as you stepped closer.

she looked at you incredulously, “are you joking? of course not. can you let me out now?” you nodded as you stopped in front of her.

only now did you really notice her. short auburn hair, tied up at the back. green eyes that matched yours. freckles lining her nose and cheeks. lips slightly cracked and parted.

“ill let you out, if you promise me one thing.” she rolled her eyes but nodded. “every year, on my birthday, there are these lights. my mother told me they were stars, but ive tracked the stars for years.” you turned away and pulled back the curtain to your most recent painting. “they’re floating lights, and you are going to take me to them.” she hesitated but you quickly jumped in. “and if you don’t, say goodbye to your satchel.”

she sighed and relaxed into the chair. “alright, fine.” she smiled as your eyes lit up and you ran to her. “ill take you. but, we’re going my way.” you nodded excitedly as you untangled her from your hair. “and, im ellie by the way.”

“rapunzel.”

she shook out her limbs before standing. “rapunzel? pretty.”

“so you’ve really never been outside the tower before?”

ellie walked slightly ahead with her hands in her pockets, a small smile on her face. she said she knew a place to stop on your way to the kingdom.

you nodded as you took in everything. “she said it was too dangerous for me out here. that id get eaten alive.”

ellie frowned a bit as you spoke. you were definitely a bit ditzy, but smart. you weren’t naive but you noticed the good in everything you’d seen.

“so,” you pulled up beside ellie, nearly bumping her. “how did you find me?”

“i didn’t actually intend to.” she said, looking at you. “i was running, from… some very bad people, and i stumbled apon a pass in the woods. totally by accident. and when i went through it, there it was. the tower.” she watched as you nodded. “i figured id just, go up. i wasnt really thinking someone might be there.”

“obviously.” you teased.

she rolled her eyes, “alright whatever. i just needed somewhere to wait everyone out. and then you came out of nowhere and tried to maim me.”

you gasped, hitting her arm as she laughed. “i thought you were gonna hurt me! what was i supposed to do?”

“okay, fair enough.” you walked in silence for awhile, side by side, hands grazing.

ellie couldn’t help but feel a pull to you. you were kind, and funny. she hadn’t known you very long, but she knew she wanted to know more. and she couldn’t deny your beauty.

she was knocked out of her thoughts as you pointed to a sign in the distance.

snuggly duckling.

taglist: @urcherrr @onlinelesbo @diddiqueen @pedropascalsbbg @dinaismyfavmilf @madislayyy @ellieswilliamsgf @williamellieslilho @iove-bbb @swxxtbnny

[calmcoldevening]

Hey hon, just read your Art x virgin HC. Although I kinda wanted to pick your brain on reader x confused inexperienced Virgin! Art…

Virgin!Art the clown x reader

Tw: smut, nsfw

Note: it's short but I tried. Show this guy real pleasure, babe

• Art got used to the fact that his human body was capable of feeling cold or in rare cases needing food, although his demonic abilities still made him immortal. But some other physiological issues remained incomprehensible to him.

• Art doesn't know how or why he left you alive and relatively unharmed, but your presence seemed almost bearable to him. He is used to the fact that you are often around, that you cook for him and from time to time blow his brains out with your discontent, like why he left traces of blood on the floor in your bathroom again.

• But it was okay, really okay. Art got used to it after a couple of weeks, accepting it as his new reality. At least you didn't scream once again and didn't try to turn him over to the police (he knew perfectly well that some boys in blue wouldn't stop him in any way, but he didn't want to shine once again before his next loud bloody "show")

• But sometimes he wondered why your body was different from his own. He's seen you change clothes or walk around the house in just a towel or underwear a hundred times, and he's seen women's bodies under his knife a million more times. And it really occupied his brain. The difference was obvious.

• Art saw some guys flirting with you in a bar a few times, and it pissed him off. You tried to laugh it off and try to get away from the guys, but they kept trying to touch you (of course, Art personally strangled them later). But he was interested in touching you as well. It looked strange, new to him.

• The first time he saw you naked, you never thought it would do anything to him. After all, you knew that Art wasn't really human, so you didn't expect any obvious reaction.

• But one day you came home pretty drunk and climbed up to Art with hugs. It was just awkward hugs on the couch and sloppy kisses. You sat on his lap with your arms around his neck and smeared his face paint with your grinning lips, whispering words like 'my handsome'. Art didn't expect any sensations. He had been in this situation before, and then he realized how stupid people can be under the influence of alcohol. But it felt different with you. He felt a strange burning sensation in his body, and his pants became uncomfortably tight under your warm thighs.

• Then he did not focus on it and the feeling quickly passed. But it came back later, when you weren't drunk anymore. He could just admire you for a long time or follow some female victim, unknowingly imagining you in her place. It made him very hard. His rapid breathing and heartbeat were driving him crazy, although he had long realized that his heart was almost dead in this body.

• But Art, surprisingly, liked the feeling. And the feeling of your weight in his arms was damn tempting.

• Although Art often thought about it, he did not know at all what it was called and why people felt it. That's why you were the one who initiated the whole thing.

• One dark evening, the two of you watched some kind of bloody horror movie that Art especially likes. Although he frowned and condemned the unreality of the bloody scenes with gestures. It is dark outside and heavy rain is dripping, pounding on the windows with force. Your hand gently took his gloved hand, tracing the rough cold knuckles. At first, he does not notice your touch, but gradually your hand moves higher and higher, gently wrapping around his neck. In one deft movement, you straddled his knees, pulling him closer to you by the neck. There's a sly smile on your face. Art's eyes widen in surprise, but he can't deny the anticipation growing in his chest, even though he didn't quite understand what you wanted from him.

• You gently move your hips back and forth, feeling the growing warmth under your body. Art didn't know that feeling. He seemed to be detached from his own body at the moment, but he was warm and pleasant. A strange tingling sensation in his body began to bother him a little. Your hands gently traced the fabric of his suit, your fingers gently glided over his makeup, sloppily smearing black lipstick. Art's hands instinctively rested on your hips, gently squeezing your flesh.

• His body was moving on its own. The strange tingling and growing heat were driving his brain crazy. The warmth of your soft thighs didn't help his frantic thoughts at all. The movie almost became background noise, all Art was focused on right now was you and the feelings you caused him.

• Art let out a soundless moan, feeling himself pressing against your body and feeling an almost painful pressure. But he frowned slightly, pressing your hips harder against his knees, and rolled his eyes for a moment. There was a momentary pleasant sensation through his body, which made his heart beat with renewed vigor, and his breathing quickened. God, you made him feel so good. He had never felt anything like this. His pants instantly got wet, pulling a satisfied chuckle out of you.

• "So fast sweet pie? Why don't we try again? 'm sure you'll like it more."

[glitterquadricorn]

spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid

+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.

a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.

"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.

"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."

"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."

"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.

She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.

"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.

The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.

Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."

"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.

"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."

"Get to the point, y/n."

"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.

"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.

---

I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

[jflemings]

— loose lips sink ships pt4

pairing: jessie fleming x reader pt 1, pt2, pt3

synopsis: jessie’s lack of proper explanation has her pleading

warnings: so so angsty, language

a/n: lol

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

the tick of your eyebrow tells jessie that this isn’t going to be one of those times when you two talk it out.

“great!” you say clapping your hands “so do you mind telling me why you said that bullshit instead of behind honest with me about your two and a half year relationship?” your falsely cheery tone paired with the sarcastic smile across your face is unsettling for jessie. “and while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me what the problem with this photo is?” you say as you slide your phone across the counter. the photo that was on jordyn’s story stares back at jessie.

“y/n” the canadian starts “i really— it’s not—” she huffs and scrubs a hand over her face. “i was standing up before the photo and she moved over so i could sit down. there wasn’t much room so we had to squish together, and she stood up pretty much immediately after the photo was taken”

you nod once as you purse your lips “and the lying?”

“i didn’t mean to” jessie says, now leaning back “it just came out and i don’t know why i didn’t correct myself”

her reasoning makes you feel worse. you think you maybe would’ve preferred her purposely lie and stick to it, rather than stick to an accidental lie for almost four years. tears begin to well in your eyes as you watch jessie cast her gaze to the floor in front of her.

“so you kept up with an accidental lie for almost four years because… what? because you couldn’t tell me the truth afterwards? because you didn’t think it was anything? like, what was the reason, jessie”

“it’s not like i thought about it!” jessie stresses “it never came up again so i forgot about it”

“until you saw her again, right?” you spit at her, folding your arms over your chest.

your girlfriend stays silent and rolls her head on her neck. she continues to not say anything as she scuffs her shoes against the floor.

you can’t help but laugh at yourself. you feel stupid, so, so stupid. “it took you less than twenty four hours to, what?, second guess your four year long relationship? are you—”

“i’m not second guessing shit” she says, now looking at you “don’t even start with that”

“start with what jessie?” you raise your voice and push off the wall “start with the fact that there’s every chance that i’m just a rebound you got in too deep with? that we were seeing eachother and you weren’t over her?”

jessie pinches her eyebrows together “you weren’t a rebound! i wasn’t even looking to date when janine introduced us—”

“because you were still in love with her”

“jesus christ, will you let me finish?” jessie grits out.

“when you start telling me something that’s gonna make me believe that our whole relationship isn’t just because i was the first person shoved under your nose when you got to london” you sneer at her.

jessie deflates, her hands going lax by her sides “is that seriously what you think?” she asks quietly “that i only started dating you because you were there?”

“what am i supposed to think, jess? that it was a coincidence that we started dating just after you get out of an almost three year long relationship?” tears fall down your face at the thought of janine introducing the two of you so jessie could get over her ex. you turn your face away from her and sniffle.

“it was a coincidence” jessie stresses “i didn’t want to date anybody, and janine thought i needed friends outside of the club so she introduced us. that’s seriously it” she says as she approaches you carefully.

you look at her through tears “did seeing her again bring up old feelings?”

jessie hesitates and bites the inside of her cheek before looking away. you don’t try to get her to look at you, don’t try to get her to answer you quicker, you simply just wait. it’s only now that you get to fully take in what she looks like. her unbrushed bed head, her oversized ‘i heart aus’ t-shirt she wears to sleep, the way one sock is kind of flopping off her foot whilst the other is still on. the version of jessie in front of you is your normal, your safe space.

this version of jessie likes her eggs made a particular way and buries herself under the covers to avoid the sun when she wants to sleep in; she wakes you up with kisses all over you face and tells you corny jokes, and she doesn’t have the weight of a nation’s expectations on her shoulders. she’s carefree and so full of love that sometimes she doesn’t know what to do with it.

this jessie is the love of your life, and right now you feel like you’re watching her slip through your fingers.

when you watch silent tears fall down her face you know you’ve got your answer. you shut your eyes “right” you say coldly before turning around and heading for your shared bedroom.

jessie’s head snaps towards your retreating form “wait, y/n!”

“jessie i can’t” you say as you grab a bag out of your closet. you begin pulling clothes you know you’ll need: training, home and away kits, socks, underwear, pyjamas, a few shirts and jeans. you count them in your head and then stuff them in your bag just as jessie comes into the room.

“what are you doing!?” she half shouts as she closes the wardrobe “can you please let me explain before you take off?”

you don’t stop walking around your shared bedroom “i just gave you a chance to and you couldn’t look me in the eye” you spit at her, not turning around to look at her.

a fresh wave of tears fall down jessie’s face “i was trying to figure out what to say, y/n, please!”

she walks around the bed to you, putting her hand over yours when you open your bedside drawer to grab your watch. her hand is warm and soft wrapped around yours and you are filled with the overwhelming urge to give into her. you turn your head to face her.

“p-please” she stutters “i swear, i have an explanation for all of it” she whispers to you, trying to hold eye contact through teary eyes “please don’t leave”

you own lip trembles “i need to, for a few days at least” you whisper back to her, pulling your hand out from under hers “it’ll give you time to think about whatever it is you want to say”

“but i don’t need time, i—”

“i do” you interrupt “you have no idea what finding this out has done to me, jess. i just need to step back”

the canadian looks defeated as you move to your bathroom to pack up your toiletries bag. she’s rooted to her spot and find herself wondering how she got here when it was only yesterday morning the two of you were rolling around in bed giggling.

she harshly wipes her tears as you slip your shoes on. the sight of her makes you want to drop everything and wrap your arms around her, make sure she knows that you still love her, but you can’t. you can’t stand here and deny yourself time apart, even if it is just a day or two.

“i’m gonna go stay with sam” you sigh “i just— i really think we both need a little bit of time”

jessie helplessly nods “okay” she whispers as you pick up your bag “i love you”

you bite your lip and turn to her, the weight of the duffel bag in your hands suddenly getting a lot heavier “i love you too” you whisper back to her, hopefully not for the last time.

[obislittleone]

Too Sweet

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: hey guys so i may or may not take a writing break (i know i said i was gonna write more but like) the stress of all the nazi shits that keep plaguing my comment sections on every post i make, regardless if it’s political or not is making me wanna tear my head off… so I might just go away a while.

Warnings: fluff, awkward mentions of past relationships, dbf!joel, smut, piv (unprotected), so much teasing. It’s actually pretty cute guys.

Is anyone at all surprised by the song choice? Hozier has us all in a headlock rn… also this is dedicated to my favorite joel writer @macfrog bc she’s just amazing and you should read her work.

MASTERLIST

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.” Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice. 

“Dates are a bad idea,” you reminded him, handing over another nail from the box in your hands.

A last minute kitchen Island was added to the kitchen’s floor plan on the current house the team had been working on, so now it was up to yourself and Joel to make that happen. Well, it was up to Joel to make that happen, and it was up to you to stand by and watch him. 

“I know, s’just,” he shook his head, hammering the nail down and holding his hand up for another. “I don’t get the whole thing these days where relationships are built on hookups.”

Your lips turned up in a smile. He was an old fashioned guy, with old fashioned ideals about love and dating and relationships. It was sweet, albeit a little obnoxious. You rather liked hooking up with him, however little it may be.

“Where would we even go?” you saw how on the first hit, the nail went crooked, so you handed him another before he even reached. 

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far.”

You had to laugh at that. 

“You wanna take me on a date but you don’t know where we would go?” 

“Well,” he finished the last nail then stood up next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “This ain’t exactly an easy situation, we got your old man to avoid.”

Very reasonable, but sort of an obvious point by now. This entire thing started based on the fact that: you know each other because of your father, as in, they are each other’s closest friend. Pair that with one man hooking up with the other’s daughter, it becomes a disaster waiting to happen… except for he doesn’t see it that way, and neither do you. 

You sighed, looking around to make sure everyone was still outside with the boss. Joel had just wiped his forehead on his arm to rid himself of the sweat, and you could see the tension in his muscles from the work he just finished. You stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to peck his lips once. 

“If you can find a place where we won't get caught, then I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

He smiled, kissing you again. He had wanted to tell you he was too sweaty for hugs right now, but as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, those thoughts suddenly left his mind. You just fit so well against him, he wonders how he never realized. 

-

He was even older than you thought. Not actually, but this man had decided on a date location, and as you were pulling in, the things packed into the backseat started to make sense. 

“Drive In movies?” You shouldn’t be surprised, the guy is practically a fossil, he even texts like he's still got a flip phone.

“Your dad’s never taken you here?” He chuckled, pulling into the line at the front. 

“No,” you laughed, leaning back in your seat as the cars ahead moved up. 

“Good, then we won’t run into him.” 

You reached and grabbed his hand over the center console. He always gave two little squeezes before readjusting his grip, rubbing his thumb on the center of your palm. It was sweet, comforting. 

He rolled down his window and paid the attendant in the booth, just a kid, probably still in high-school… but he certainly had an attitude on him, given the nasty glare he served Joel after making eye-contact with you. Joel had never let go of your hand, the kid knew he wasn’t your dad. 

“What’d you tell him, anyway?” He asked, driving off towards the lot on the opposite side of the land. The big screen was not even rolling the trailers yet. 

“Hm?” 

“Your dad,” he seemed almost shy about mentioning your dad in front of you, in this context. How did you lie to him this time? But he knew what he was doing, what he’d been doing and still plans on doing. 

“Told ‘im I was gonna go shopping with a friend, that I may or may not sleep over.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, never taking his eyes off the road. He pulled into a spot in the very back corner, where it was likely to remain empty the entire duration of the movie. 

“Oh did you, now?” 

You turned a light shade of pink at admitting to him you wanted to sleep over… not like it was a new occurrence, but you hadn’t really asked him yet. 

“I didn’t tell him for sure, I know Sarah-”

“Sarah’s with Tommy at a concert in Dallas,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the engine. “Text your dad, let him know that friend of yours is keepin’ you till tomorrow.”

He got out of the truck, walking around the front to open your door, holding his hand out to help you down. Ever the gentleman. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, walking around the backseat door and helping him unload the piles of blankets he’d managed to stuff in. The man practically emptied the top shelf of his linen closet for this. 

“Anything for you, M’lady.” 

He ended up taking almost everything into his arms, letting you carry one pillow and a single blanket towards the back of the truck. Normally it was all dusty and gross, proof of the work it helped him do. You wouldn’t even have noticed, because you don’t often pay attention to the state of other people’s truck beds, but he had cleaned the whole thing out, making it look as if he’d just brought it home from the dealership… minus the odds and ends of dents from his toolbox and timber. 

“What’s playin’?” You nodded up to the screen as he took the pillows and blankets, tossing them across the truck bed to make a cozy little area for the two of you. 

“It’s uh…” he reached into his pocket, checking the nightly double stubs. “Jaws and E.T., it’s a Spielberg double feature.”

You don’t remember telling him that Spielberg was your favorite director, but maybe he was just already at that place where he could read your mind… or maybe it was just a coincidence and he thought that the throwback double feature at the drive in would be fun. Either way, he hit the nail right on the head. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

When everything was settled just the way he wanted, he turned to you, his hand out towards the blankets. “After you, darlin.”

You tried to step up on the tailgate, but your foot slipped for how high it was. 

“Want me to give you a toss?” He joked, but you rolled your eyes at him. You would not be acquiring his help after that joke. 

“I’ll be just fine, thank you.” 

It may have been embarrassing, but like hell you were gonna give into him, his chuckles of amusement under his breath as you slowly and steadily climbed up by yourself. It was much harder to grab onto the dip in the bed when there were so many blankets spread out. Eventually you made it up, collapsing onto your back into the mound of bedding. 

“First try,” you raised a fist in the air, looking back to him to see his amusement had not ended and he was smiling wide where he stood, arms crossed and brows raised when your eyes met. “You comin’?”

And as easily as he could walk, he used the ridge along the underside of the tailgate to climb up over on the side, sitting down next to you and giving you a light hearted side eye. “See how easy that was?” 

“Oh yeah, sure. You must be so proud, you’re a pro at climbing into your own truck.”

He laughed, laying back beside you. “Baby, I think anyone looks like a pro compared to you.”

“Maybe I’m just more athletically inclined, wanted to take the long way,” you chided, sitting up onto your elbows and looking over at him. The trailers had started running, and the light was hitting his features so nicely. He looked so nice. You could argue that he always did. At work when he was a sweaty mess, he looked real good then, too.

“I’m sure that’s it.” 

He settled against the pillows, nodding his head upwards for you to join him. He brought you near with open arms, one that settled under your shoulder and the other that settled on your waist. You’d tucked your head under his chin, feeling him rest his head on top of yours. 

You both had fucked around, sure… but this was a little slice of heaven right here. No amount of sneaking around or giving each other temporary pleasure beat the simplicity of laying next to one another, breathing in each other’s air, and being on a date. A real one. It wasn't a hasty exchange built upon needing to get off, but a choice to spend genuine time together, in which you receive nothing but the pleasure of one's company.

You couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. Joel was right, hookup culture had become too strong in this day and age. It stands to reason that you haven’t actually slept with anyone in a while. You like being asked out, but guys your age don’t exactly want to give you that satisfaction. Joel asked you out. Sure, he fucked you silly on the stretch of his fingers only a week ago… but he still asked you out.

Jaws ended sooner than you thought it would. Back when you were a kid, and afraid of sharks, it seemed much longer of a movie. There was a lull between it and E.T., assuming the kid working in the projection tower had to change out the film roll himself. It made for a sweet and quiet conversation that sparked up as soon as the credits rolled. 

“You bring a lot of girls here?” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though it was meant as a teasing question. 

“Nah,” he said anyway, turning a bit more to face you. “Usually, I don’t have to hide from my girlfriend’s dads. Not since highschool, anyway.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His use of the word girlfriend, which subtly implied that’s what you were… but you weren’t one to assume, or at least, not with Joel and the risky business of your relationship. You laced your hand with his between your bodies, looking down at his fingers while you did your best to recover the conversation without acting awkward. 

“The more I think about it, I’m not so sure my dad would be angry.”

Joel wished he had the mindset to think that way. 

“You kiddin’ me? If your dad found out I’d been messin with his only daughter, I’d get his shotgun to my head.” 

A laugh escaped your lips, but you shook your head. 

“You’re not just messin with me, though…” 

At least, you hoped he wasn’t. Of all things that could be said about you and Joel, it was that you had already gotten attached. Already been to a place where you miss seeing him at work every day when you go home. Miss talking to him and learning more about his life, and having him listen about yours. There have been so many people in your life who told you that you talk too much, or that you never shut up. But Joel never has. He listens, and he’s happy to. You’d hate to lose that one day and never get it back.

“No,” he lifted your chin so you’d meet his eyes again. “I’m not just messin with ya.”

You held his stare for a moment, neither of you leaned in. It was just a nice moment, to look at one another, and to appreciate what you saw. A moment to see that hey, Joel has little flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. A little moment for when you get sad that he isn’t around, that way you can remember how he looks at you when he is around. It’s something mixed with longing and contentment. Two opposites that somehow come together on his features and tell you more than his words could ever say. 

“Good,” you finally replied. “In any case, my dad won’t shoot ya. I think he loves you too much.”

He laughed, the low rumble vibrated through his chest, and you felt it against your joined hands.

“You don’t suppose I could woo him over too, huh?” 

“I don’t think your charm would sway him as easily.”

“Oh I got charm, now?”

“No, not really… nice ass, though,” you giggled, and he playfully shoved your arm back, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter on your back. “Just bein’ honest, mister.”

“I see how it is,” he pulled you back in with a swift move of his arm. “Only want me for my body.”

“What can I say? I’m a modern woman in a modern world.”

“S’all the same to me, whatever gets you to agree to a date with me. Still can’t believe you did…” 

He says it half jokingly. You know he doesn’t see himself as desirable. Even though he’s in the prime of his life and is quite literally one of the finest men this town has to offer, he looks at the obstacles. He works too often, has a teenage daughter, he doesn’t look the way he used to, some people find him incredibly boring… but only the worst people. 

“Joel, I'm lucky to be on a date with you.” 

“Yeah, sure… s’not like you ain’t got a hundred guys your age lining up behind me to-”

You kissed him. He was not going to be permitted to speak if he was not going to say nice things about himself, a new rule you were establishing. He didn’t seem to care much for the rest of his sentence after you pulled away, the words slipping from his mind the second your lips touched his. 

“I like you,” you told him, making your intentions very clear to him. You weren’t just messing around, either. “You treat me better than all those shitheads, anyway.”

-

You’d been passing in and out of consciousness on the drive home. You’d been up since the crack of dawn this morning, the neighbor’s dog barking incessantly. You’re sure Joel heard it too, unless of course he’d been laying on his good ear, the bad one would have canceled out all the noise. 

The streetlights go by in waves over your eyes, lids closed lightly after each time they flutter. You were curled so sweetly into the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, finding such comfort in the place. You’d have thought it was where you spent most of your time. His hand was on the edge of your knee the whole drive, rubbing small circles over the area. 

By the time you both had gotten home, you had to scan the yard for signs that your dad may be in the near vicinity. He was usually never home on a Friday night, unless there was a Rangers game or if he had company. It made sense that his car was gone when you both pulled up. 

“You text him, yet?” 

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and completing the task meant for three hours ago. 

“It’s only ten, he might be at the bar, still.”

You didn’t over explain anything in your message, no need to make him question your thoroughness. Just something simple and quick. 

Staying over at Amy’s, I’ll be back before lunch. Drive safe.

But then you immediately deleted the last part. Because how would you know he’s still out? 

Joel had cut the engine, getting out and walking around to meet you at your door, except you’d already opened it and stepped out yourself.

He gave you an unserious look that feigned offense. 

“Hey now,” he settled his hands on his hips, the sass evident in his voice. “We’re still on a date, miss. I’m supposed to get the door.” 

You knew he wasn’t really upset, but you found it funny pretending as if he was.

“Modern woman in a modern world, remember?” 

“Yeah,” he waved you off, shutting your door and taking your hand as you both walked up to the front door. “What all does that entail, anyhow? Bein’ a modern woman?”

You smiled, watching him take his damn time with the keys. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well, since achieving the vote, we’ve made quite a bit of ground. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re allowed to work with you guys, now.”

“Ah… how did I miss that?” 

“Weren’t looking hard enough. We also get to wear pants now, so I can see why you’re confused.” 

And once the door was open, he lazily slung an arm around you to let you inside. Ladies first and all that. He didn’t actually respond to your last comment until you were both in the entry hall, door closed. 

“Shame, I kinda like you without pants,” he hovered in close, partially teasing but otherwise just to get his body nearer to yours. The heat between you blossomed, and it could easily be sensed on both sides since leaving the truck. 

“Mister Joel Miller, don't you know the best part of a modern woman?” 

He raised his eyebrows, his head shaking once and eyes rolling over. Just say it already.

“We can ask any man we want to take our pants off.”

There was barely a second between your words and the speed of his lips meeting yours. It was different from the kisses at the drive in, now it was harsh and hungry. A stark contrast to the softness and the serenity. This was clouded by lust, by the human need to devour.

Joel was not gentle by nature. He was often brutish in his work and day to day. There were few people who genuinely saw him gentle. Sarah, Tommy, your dad, and you, his other side neighbors, and Carol, the lady who takes Sarah to school when he can’t. Maybe not in that exact order, but that was the list nonetheless.

You’d always seen him gentle, so the moment he backs you into the door, your back slamming on the painted wood, something stirs. You liked Joel how you knew him… but maybe there was other unexplored territory to delve into. 

“Joel,” you whined out on the end of a breath. His name falling from your mouth was always how he preferred to hear it, but under this context had to be his favorite.

“Baby,” he trailed his kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then neck, resting in the crook of your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. Your hands dove through his hair, tugging ever so gently and feeling the vibrations on your skin as a repercussion. His hands never found a resting place, running up and down your sides, every few seconds reaching down for a feel of your ass. He seemed to like yours, too. 

When the arousal became too much, you tried your luck at rolling against him. The sound he made alone would have been enough for you to know how badly he wanted you, but the feel of him through his jeans was a physical show of it. He gets hard so fast for you. 

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.”

Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice. 

He watched you from behind, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached the top. You nearly tripped over the last stair, but before you could go toppling over, his arm around your waist stopped you dead in your place. 

“So damn clumsy,” he shook his head, the edge of a smirk forming. He tapped your hip with his free hand, getting you to move forward again until you got to his door. “Can’t get in a truck, can’t climb stairs…”

Now that he’d teased you first, you felt you had a small bit of free reign to mess with him. He was still gonna have you, but why make things so boring? You stared at the handle, gripping it, but making no move to twist it and open the door. 

“Doorknob too much for you, too?”

You narrowed your eyes over your shoulder, where he was lingering closely. You could feel him pressed against your backside, the arousal evident in every breath he took, but he was still having fun with his little pokes of annoyance at you.

“I think I remember a rule about your room being off limits…” You trailed, cheekily smiling at him before he reached around you and opened the door himself. He held out his hand with a cocky raised brow, and waited for you to step in. 

“Ladies don’t always have to go first, y’know. S’all part of-”

“Bein’ a modern woman, I know.”

But still you went in first, taking a few steps backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed and caused you to sit. You tilted your head at him, still leaning in the doorway, his hand on the frame above his head and his other hand still steadily on his hip. What’s he waiting for?” 

“I ain’t gonna wait all night, cowboy…�� 

He chuckled, shaking his head and slowly coming forward. For someone so eager, he was taking his sweet time. 

“You’re cute,” he gently pushed you back into the mattress, crawling one arm at a time over your form. “But something tells me that you would wait all night.”

He leaned down and met your lips with his, feeling your hands climb from the bed, to his shoulders, then to the sides of his face. He loved the feeling of your hands on him. Loved the way that with each pass of your skin against his, you began to learn the feeling of him as well. With one hand still supporting himself, his other raked down your side, then up over your middle, hugging the curves of your stomach, the stretch of your ribcage, and the gentle peaks of your breasts. He stopped there, paying mindful attention according to every sound you made, every groan of approval, or whimper of satisfaction. It was all he could hear, and became his instruction on how to touch you. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer between them, trying to spur on the friction that would give you relief. Joel knew the signs of your arousal clearly by now, but there was still ground for him to cover. 

“Gettin’ so needy already, baby.”

His murmur against your mouth was interrupted. You whined at the loss of his lips, but were quieted in a moment when his hands trails downwards. He knelt one knee between your legs, the other still on the ground. He lifted behind your knees and gave a quick shove to drive you further up his mattress. His next move was to go for your shorts, given the fact they’d been causing him to mentally strain himself all evening. 

“Gotta get these damn things off,” he said.

They went flying to the floor, and then he had to stop a minute. With your knees raised, either side of his hips, he had the most ethereal view of your soaked underwear, a dark and increasingly wet stain against the soft blue cotton. When you noticed how long he’d stopped to enjoy the scenery, you grabbed his hand on your knee. 

“Joel, please-”

“I know, babygirl.”

And he didn’t make you beg for it. Not like the silly college boys would, and have in the past. He sunk down on the ground by his bed, leaning over on his elbows, hooking them under your legs again before pulling himself inward. He kissed over the wet fabric, hooking his fingers underneath it at your sides and slowly sliding them off. 

Your hands found his hair and your mouth parted in a shaking breath. The slow contact he made was like sweet torture. Your skin arose goosebumps under his touch, agonizingly slow and increasingly annoying, given your absolute need for him. 

“Need you… Joel I can’t- fuck.”

He kept it slow, but he licked upward, meeting your clit in devastating motions. You needed more, and as if he read your mind, his first finger was brought down and inserted to your seeping entrance. Your cries of approval met her ears like a happy melody, pushing him to go faster. 

You’d already been pushing the edge, just from him touching you… but now that the contact was area specific, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. The hard feeling of him pressed against your earlier had seeded a thought that you would not be satisfied until he was inside you, heavy and full. 

“Want more,” you tried to tell him, but he would not allow his feasting to be cut short. He’d made up his mind about the first time he would actually have sex with you. It wasn’t going to be rushed.

He shook his head, the sensation from the motion even more impacting. You took one hand away from his hair, fisting his sheets as tightly as you could. 

“Gotta work you a little,” he pulled back to say, adding another finger to the mix, feeling you tightly around him. He climbed back up your body, hand never leaving its place between your legs. “Relax for me, yeah?”

You did your best, taking a breath and keeping your eyes trained on his, but they soon fell to his mouth, lips licked clean and the very corners covered with you. It somehow flipped a switch in you that you weren’t sure was good or not. Joel was the first man to go down on you. Joel was the first man to kiss you without immediately putting his tongue in your mouth. Joel was the first man to be so invested in your relationship, that he asked you out on a date… after you messed around. It stands to reason that Joel may be the first man you genuinely fall in love with. Not puppy love like in high school. Not conditional love based on what he can get out of it. Actual love. 

You dawn on this realization quickly, still in the moment and feeling his every move, every grip of his hand or every curl of his fingers. It’s all so instant, and in your present state of mind. Like, every time he moves an inch, it somehow contributes to your relative thought. 

“Joel?” you look up at him with glassed over eyes. 

He pauses his movements below on account of how sincere you sound. 

“Yeah?”

It’s not I love you… not yet. It’s I know you, it’s going to be you.

You reach down between your bodies, his fingers still sheathed in yours, and palm him generously. Without losing eye contact, you undo his jeans, doing your best with one hand to maneuver the waistband of his boxers and pull him from his confinement. You aren’t looking yet… but you know from the feel of his sheer size alone, you’re in for the pain of your life. It bothered you last time, the thought that he may break you on his girth, that you may feel differently or resent him from how he feels… except you don’t feel that way anymore. Because of your aforementioned realization, you now feel that though this may hurt, it would not change your desire for him. He’s not a boy who’s hurting you to get off. He cares about you. 

Not just messin’ around…

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” you told him, the awestruck glaze in your eyes slowly fading as your smirk crawled over your face. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, allowing him to help you get it off. Seeing more of his skin, and feeling it against you when he settled back down was elating. It felt like the doorway to something, the hallway leading to reward. 

“Baby, you’re still tight, I don’t wan-”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

He sighed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes because dammit they were convincing. 

“I hurt you, you tell me. Promise that,” he looked at you sternly, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him so serious like this alone with you. He almost seemed, for lack of a better word, scared. Like you were a flower petal he was afraid to touch for the fear it would fall from the blossom. 

“Promise.”

He nodded, smiling weakly, still unsure but willing to let you lead him blindly. 

He picked you up and put you down on the proper region of the bed, your head meeting the pillows behind you. You giggled at his rapid motions to strip you of your shirt and bra next, his pent up anticipation now getting the better of him. He’d kicked off the last of his remaining clothing, looking back to you, sprawled out on his bed, waiting patiently for him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, we’re doin’ it right,” he joked, crawling back over you. 

He nuzzled his nose against yours, then leaned down to collect a kiss. The kiss met your lips but then parted and moved to your neck, then shoulders, licking the sweet spot in the crook between them. He traveled down your chest, his kisses never stopping, although his hands paid special attention to each peak of raised flesh. 

Your noises fell on grateful ears, the appreciation for them showing in every eager kiss, every soft grope of your skin. When he reached your lower region, he kissed both thighs apart, lifting one at a time and making sure they were set aside his hips comfortably. Once done, he kissed his way back up. Tentative, and slow. Joel is often strong and silent, and in this instance, it showed immensely. The way he can easily move parts of you around without hassle, and do so without uttering a word. It was dangerously addicting, how he already knew your body so intimately after only a few experiences. 

Once his lips again found yours it lasted, and lasted. The feeling of him right against you was breathtaking. No barriers, no clothing, no promises of ‘another time’ between you.

“You let me know, alright?” 

You nodded, his voice had become gentler from his first worrisome words minutes ago. 

He kept his eyes on you, trying to gauge your reaction moment by moment. You wrapped an arm over his shoulder, holding the hairs at the back of his neck to ground yourself. He lined himself up to you and ever so slowly began to push in, holding himself after the first sharp intake of breath through your nose. 

“M’okay,” you said assuringly, the sensation dulling slightly when you focused solely on him and not his actions. 

He went further, and deeper, slower than sludge but making sure you could feel every inch comfortably before moving again. You twirled his hair between your fingers, the other hand digging nails into his side. His face, eyes still focused on your expression, was becoming the product of bliss. This entire exchange, the build up, the stretching pain, and the way your lungs couldn’t seem to exhale, was all worth it… just to see this look on his face. The way he was having to fight himself to stay in the moment and not get lost in the euphoria, it was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him. When he was dazed and confused just by feeling you around him. 

“You gotta breathe, baby,” he let out, trying to keep your comfort in the forefront of his mind. He took a deep inhale of his own, and when he felt you following his steady pattern he was able to relax a little more, just like you did. “Atta girl, just like that… keep doin’ that.”

He started to move, a single thrust once he could be sure that there wasn’t any stiff pain. The only sting left over was fading, the slow and measured pace he set was becoming like a lifeline. Comparable to a heartbeat. In and out, in and out, the feeling becomes more pleasurable and addictive. You need a heartbeat to live, and in this moment, you need Joel to live, his easy and gentle pace. 

“S’good,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed and his head dropping to your neck again. “Feels so deep.”

Joel bit down on your skin, tethering himself. The praise was something he wasn’t quite used to. He’s self deprecating to a fault, but hearing the opposite from your lips, which he adores, makes him feel stronger somehow. Keeping a tether is all he can do to keep from rutting against you. He wants so badly for you to be different, to not end up just a one night stand or a friend with benefits. He wants you to feel how much he cares about you, wants to take care of you. 

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, your neck absorbing most of the sound. “Taking me, so tight.”

Your muscles started contracting the moment he sped up his rhythm, only one thrust that was different from the rest. It hit you so fast, the coil in your stomach, building up and aching for relief. 

“Joel… shit,” You could barely even get your words out, interrupted by a whimper of white hot euphoria. “I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his desire to rut into you slowly fading as he increased his pace to meet that carnal need. “I feel you, baby. Give it to me.”

It built only a little more, but then you couldn’t take it. It was too much, too full. The tightness in your stomach burst, letting go of every tense muscle in your body. It was so intense you practically screamed for him, his name a repetitive mantra on your tongue. Joel. Your hips jolted and writhed around, the feeling increasing with every hit against your cervix. Joel. Your walls tightened even more around him, the sting only slightly returning but in a way that made you crave it. Joel. He came right after you, unable to even try pulling out, just for how tightly you held him in. Joel…

He dropped half his weight, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips. He needed to. It didn’t feel right to stay hidden in your neck when he had such gratification for you right now. The way you made him feel was no simple thing, and he felt you needed to be thanked for that. If a kiss was all he could give you in the moment, then so be it.

Joel…

“I’m sorry,” he let out, leaving his forehead against yours. 

“For what?” 

“I came in you… I didn’t ask,” he furrowed his brows, hoping you wouldn’t begrudge him too badly. He’d say he got lucky when you pulled him back down for another kiss. 

“It’s okay… wanted you to,” you were still coming down from your high, possibly the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. He smiled and kissed you again, and again. He shifted the way you both laid, on his side, and brought you close to his chest. 

When your breathing went back to normal, you spoke again. 

“I was scared, y’know.”

He looked closely at you, unsure of what you meant and why. 

“I thought you might hurt me. I didn’t care if you did, but I still thought you might,” you told him, running your fingers in circles over his skin. Though you seemed in bliss, perfectly happy, he couldn’t help but be frightened that maybe you weren’t telling him.

“Did I? Hurt you?” 

“No.” you shook your head, holding a smile and making sure he saw it was genuine. “You didn’t hurt me, it was good. Really good. No other guy has ever��” 

He again was confused by the trail of your voice… no guy has ever…? Oh, shit.

“No other guy’s made you come before?” 

The embarrassed blush on your cheeks told him all he needed to know. You weren’t sure why it was so awkward to let him find that out, but you suddenly felt like you were more of a child, having not experienced things that he has for years before. 

“No one before you… and you’ve already got four on the board,” you laughed, trying to make it feel like it wasn’t as big a deal. Like it was funny. 

He narrowed his eyes, raising his head up to look at you closer. 

“Ranger’s night, last week, tonight… that’s three,” he corrected, counting out on three fingers and holding them up. 

“You technically weren’t there the other time,” you smirked, giggling once he looked at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 

“Should’ve called me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, your smile still prominent and growing. “I love hearing you.” 

Over his shoulder you heard his phone buzzing, once, twice, then three times. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t from someone at the work site that wasn’t able to lock up the property after reviewing. 

“Hold on,” he rolled his eyes, turning just far enough to reach his jeans on the ground, pulling his phone from the pocket. He squinted against the harsh light, swiping through the message notifications that appeared when he unlocked the screen. He laughed, turning to you. “S’ your dad.”

“It’s late, I would have thought he was either drunk or asleep by now.”

“Apparently neither,” he slid his phone back on the nightstand, regaining you in his arms. “Wants to know if I’m still awake for a drink.”

You laughed, “Oh, really?” 

“Yeah. Not sure if you’ve heard but, you’re actually at a friend’s house till tomorrow.” 

“How fun for me… so that means a guy’s night for you and my dad?” You played along with him, the sweet tone in your voice turning teasing.

“It would… too bad I’m already asleep.” He reasoned, which is probably what he would repeat to your dad tomorrow if asked. 

“Damn, you old men go to bed early.”

“Hey now… let’s not go crazy.”

-

tags: @justanothersadperson93@moonchild-warrior@hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof@untamedheart81@just-someone-broken@joelalorian@xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin@theatrelove3000

[padfootagain]

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

[wearywinchester]

In the Rain

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When Dean forgets to pick you up, the pouring rain is relentless on your walk back home.

Warnings: angst, arguing, fluff

You waited in the library entrance for at least half an hour by yourself, the downpour outside only getting heavier the more time that went by. Dean had told you he would pick you up from campus at around six, you even reminded him earlier that day for that matter. But the closer it got to seven the more you figured he wouldn’t show up.

He was never late.

The tears were welling up by now and you stood up, frustratedly slinging your bag over your shoulders before you pushed open the heavy glass door. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your hood didn’t do you any good as you rushed along the sidewalk, your thoughts starting to get the better of you.

Maybe it was just an honest mistake and he forgot. Or maybe he didn’t really care and found something better to do. Your mind tricked you into believing that was the only possible explanation.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly to stay as warm as possible, the rain quickly soaking through your jacket. The wind was damn near impossible the bear, putting chills straight through to your bones. It was nearly dark and your heart was pounding at the thought of being alone.

You were thankful when you saw your apartment complex, and you were thankful it wasn’t a lengthier walk, picking up your already fast pace, sighing once you got inside.

Your shoes made an uncomfortable sloshing sound with each step you took, clothes sticking your your skin along with the fall weather nearly making you freeze. Not to mention the stares you had gotten in the lobby.

When you stepped in your apartment you locked the door behind you, taking off your backpack. While you were opening it you could already see the rain soaked through pretty much everything, your text book pages having been wrinkled and warped, and the months worth of notes you had taken since the new quarter looked the same as your book, the words you’d written now bleeding into each other till it was barely understandable.

You threw everything down with an angry groan, backpack thudding to the floor in a pathetic mess. Then your phone vibrated, then again, and again. When you looked you saw messages from Dean, and it only made you more frustrated, tossing your phone on the bed before you stomped off to your bathroom. You hadn’t bothered to read them, not yet.

It was next to impossible trying to get out of your clothes, your arms growing tired trying to get your long sleeve shirt off and the anger was enough to send you over the edge. The tears you had been holding back flowed now, steady one after another down your cheeks as you put the last item of soaked clothing in the hamper, wrapping a clean towel around yourself.

If Sam weren’t over at Stanford, he’d pick you up, you thought to yourself. Maybe you were being over dramatic about it all. But it was just the icing on the cake after the crappy day you’d had. And it had left your insecurities to run ramped and you were too tired to rationalize it.

Just as you pulled your sweatshirt over your head your phone rang again. “Stop calling me, Dean.”

“Sweetheart, would you just let me explain?”

“Explain what? You forgot about me. That’s it. I walked home because you forgot. If you don’t care, that’s fine.”

With that you hung up before your voice could give out and let him know you’d been crying.

No, it was not fine.

With a huff you climbed into bed, switching on the tv to try and distract yourself. Fighting with Dean was never something either of you wanted to do, and it didn't happen very often. It was over something so trivial too the more you thought about it. He never picked you up, didn’t even tell you he’d be late. Nothing. You had a right to be a little upset with him, maybe not quite so harsh but you’d already yelled at him now.

Sighing, you pressed play on the remote and tossed it to the empty space next to you, scooting down beneath the blankets. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't focus on the show you'd put on, too in your head about him. After all, you never let him explain, though you were sure your insecurities wouldn’t listen. The whole situation was a mess, torn between playing into your thoughts of if he really even cared about it and being understanding of what had happened. Your head spun with every thought and scenario and you sighed, rubbing your eyes frustratedly.

It’d been about an hour, a knock at your door waking you from your half sleep a little startled. You checked the clock on your phone, 9:23 pm. And there were more messages and calls from Dean. You got up, heading for the door, heart skipping a beat when you opened it. You nearly slammed it in his face but he caught it with his foot and you rolled your eyes, turning to walk back to your room.

“Sweetheart,” He drew out, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that,” You grumbled.

“Hey,” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him, face softening at the sight of your tears. “You know I wouldn’t do that on purpose, don’t you?”

You were quiet, looking anywhere but at him as you tried to tug your arm out of his grip. When you did, you retreated back to your room but of course he followed.

“Just leave me alone, Dean. You don’t have to pretend you care,” you snapped, hating the way your voice cracked.

“Y/n, Bobby needed an extra hand at the shop and I lost track of time. Will you stop being so dramatic?” He said a little louder.

He immediately regretted the words the moment the leave his mouth. Dean Winchester, notorious for saying stupid things, notorious for not thinking before he speaks.

“Dramatic? Screw you, Dean. I didn’t ask you to come here and yell at me.” You turned away before he could really see you cry.

He was quiet then, probably because he knew you were right, tears running down your cheeks again. He knew he messed up just now, and he knew he messed up a few hours ago. And getting defensive the way he does certainly adds fuel to the fire. He knew he was the bad guy right now and he could accept that.

“Just go h–“

You cut yourself off when you turned around, your books in his hands as he tried to flip through the pages, guilt on his face when he saw that it wasn’t salvageable. The feeling sat heavy in his stomach like a rock, growing heavier the more time that passed.

He set them down gently, rain dampened hair flopping over his forehead as he stood up. His mouth opened to say something but he closed it again, instead wrapping you up in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek, and then your nose. You didn’t know whether it was the hug or that look on his face, but you lost it, burying your face against his chest. He held you tighter, shushing you in an attempt to calm you down, and after a few minutes it did.

“No, I’m…I should’ve just waited for you.”

He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you blame yourself.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, wiping your face with the back of your hand. You brushed by him to get out of that room and into somewhere that felt less confined at the moment. He kicked off his boots and his wet jacket, hanging it on the coatrack. “You don’t have to stay because you feel bad for me. It’s fine.”

He gave you a look of disagreement, shoulders slumped at the way you were acting. “It’s more than just this, isn’t it?”

“It was just a bad day, Dean. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter when it’s getting you upset like this,” he reasoned with a louder voice and you rolled your eyes, letting out a big sigh. “You know I won’t make you talk, but at least let me be here.”

You leaned against the counter for a moment, rubbing your hands over your face. He wasn’t leaving and you knew that. “Okay. I guess you can stay.”

You were caught up in your own head for a little bit, Dean’s feet coming into view while your eyes were focused on the floor. You grabbed his hands, noticing the black grease still under his nails and smudged on his hands, rubbing your thumbs across them gently. The sight only made you feel worse, so much worse.

It wasn’t because he didn’t care, not even a little. It was because of exactly what he’d told you, what he’d been trying to tell you this whole time.

“‘M sorry for getting mad,” you said softly, dropping his hand to brush the hair away that stuck to his forehead.

His hair was still plenty wet from the rain, the occasional drop falling from the end. And you brush it away, running your fingers through it to get his hair out of his eyes. You always did like the longer hair choice, no matter the fact that either looked good.

Things fell silent again and you sighed quietly, hand falling back to your side.

“You’re all wet,” you say softly, and he can hear the guilt in your voice.

That smile of his appears, a soft chuckle leaving his lips that makes you frown and furrow your brows.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs. “I ain’t gonna melt, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes a little more.

“You pickin’ on me, Dean?” You ask, and you watch that smile get a little bigger. “Of course you are.”

You try your best to sound grumpy, to sound ever so displeased, but it never worked. Never. Especially not as he chuckled again, that stupid laugh of his that you loved more than anything. Especially not as he pulled you in close, despite his rain soaked clothes. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not as he nestled in against you.

And even despite the fact that he was all wet with rain, despite all that, the warmth from his body heat still radiated through to you and blanketed you in it.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you this time,” you murmur, tipping your head back to look at him.

“Oh good,” he hums, barely getting the words out before he dips down to kiss you, his lips warm and lingering.

You could never stay mad at him, no matter how hard you tried to.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana

[vashs-turtleneck]

Preen.

Rating: T

Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Summary: Caring for Vash when his wings sprout. CW: angst, fluff, blood, mentions of self-harm, Trimax Vash coded. Word Count: 1.4k A/N: man oh man do I love bird men.

Vash normally stays huddled up in his room on days like this. There's times where he's had to spend nights on end locked inside until his feathers would painstakingly slowly go away. He'd sit on his bed (if he even had a bed at the time) and wait until he was back to normal. He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't eat, most of the time he wouldn't even sleep. He'd just sit there, alone, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. When it was all over, he'd be in a nest of dusty sheets, surrounded by smears of blood and ripped feathers, with crimson dripping from his back from where he had agonizingly plucked at himself.

A monster, huddled away from sight.

Inhuman.

He would never dare go outside like this.

But of course, when you came around, following closely at his heel at all times, you never allowed him to hide away from you like that. You once came looking for him after his prolonged silence, and you had found him in a pitiful state – eyes rimmed red, bloody nails clutching at his own flesh like it wasn't meant to be on his bones, and most notably, white feathers sprouting from his face and wings spread out from his shoulder blades. 

He was mortified, embarrassed, scared.

This is it. You're going to see what he really is, and you're going to leave.

He went through all the stages of grief when he saw your eyes widen and your steps come to a halt. He was ready to hear your screams of terror and then never see you again. As much as he wanted to hide, he didn't look away. If you were going to run, he wanted to get one last good look at your beautiful face.

But you didn't leave him that night. You stayed awake with him, talking to him, and you had no flicker of fear or disgust when you looked at him. You didn't get too close, you didn't try to touch him, you didn't stare at him too intently (though he's sure you wanted to), and in the morning when his feathers were gone, you took him out to breakfast like it was any other day. Like nothing changed.

It took a long time to build up into letting you see him like this. Apart from that first night when you refused to leave his side after you saw the scratches on his back and the blood under his nails, he only allowed your gaze for brief moments, like when you insisted on bringing him food, and when you'd come back to scold him for not eating it. 

Eventually, you started sitting with him. You wouldn't speak. You'd simply sit in the same space as him, often in a chair in the corner, sometimes on the floor by the bed as you read a book, doodled in a sketchbook, or took a nap. No touches, no words, but still offering him a presence he's never had before when he's felt the furthest from human.

He was the first one to break the silence when he saw you using one of his shedded feathers as a bookmark of all things. You simply responded, “I like it. It's pretty,” like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

It's safe to say that nowadays, if he isn't there to greet you when you come down for breakfast in the mornings, you'll be knocking on his door within the hour.

Tonight, you're sitting on his bed, his back facing you as he sits with his knees to his chest, hiding the cracks in his face from your gaze. Your fingers gently run through his sprouted wings, picking out bits of lint and grains of sand caught in his feathers with a tenderness you always grant him, even when he's like this, when he doesn't even have the heart to look you in the eyes.

“I'm sorry, mayfly.”

“Hush. Don't be silly.”

His wings shift, slowly unfurling from around himself the longer you touch them for, as if trying to nudge into your hands for more. A part of him feels bad for liking the attention, but he doesn't want you to stop, even though the feeling of anyone touching the plumage along his back still feels so foreign to him.

“So soft,” you hum, and he feels the heat rise to his face, his cheeks dusting pink under the cracks and feathers. Something about you saying that makes his chest feel warm, despite how much he hates the part of himself you're referring to.

“You know,” you start to say, pulling his attention back to you as your gentle fingers pluck the dirt from him. “I'd like it if you stopped hiding from me whenever this happens.”

Vash winces at your words. “I don't… like it when you see me like this.” 

Don't look at me.

Don't leave me.

These wings, these feathers, these marks along his face and body – they all feel like some curse. It's not something you should be seeing, but he can't help wanting you here. It almost feels like he has to keep his wings from reaching towards you, like they have a mind of their own.

“I know, and I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving you alone,” you say back, your hands carefully running along the lengths of his wings, your palms smoothing over the feathers, and the feeling sends an involuntary shiver up his spine. “Is it bad if I like seeing you like this?”

“Heh. I don't see why you would. It's… strange. I would never blame you if you wanted to run away.” And he wouldn't. He knows this, and he knows you know this. He's told you far too many times that you should leave, that you shouldn't be around a monster like him, and sometimes he was much meaner than he ever intended to be with you. It's something he'll regret regardless of how many times he's apologized and how many times you've forgiven him. 

He just… doesn't feel like himself when he's in this state. He wants you far away, but he wants you close. He wants to scream and cry and curl in on himself until he disappears, but he wants to wrap himself around you and keep you with him in a nest of feathers until he forgets the outside world exists. His skin crawls and prickles where his feathers sprout from, and sometimes his flesh feels like it's burning, but he aches for the feeling of your hands running through his plumage. It's gotten so, so much worse since you've been around, and he doesn't know why, but he'll keep that bit to himself. No point in making you feel bad for his alien biology when he himself doesn't understand it all.

“I would never run away from you. Hell, half the time I'm struggling to keep up with you,” and his breath hitches when he suddenly feels your arms wrap around his midsection, your head resting against the bed of feathers on his back.

“I think you're beautiful, Vash. With and without wings.”

‘Beautiful.’

What a strange way of describing him.

“You like them…” he mutters quietly, more to himself than to you, like he's trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. He doesn't even notice the way his feathers fluff up and bury your face in his down.

“I do, but I'm more fond of who they're attached to.”

You care, inhuman and all.

He was ready to never see you again after that first night, but you're still here, and you're preening him of all things. You've stitched his wounds, comforted him during his nightmares, held him when he's cried, but this? This is a level of intimacy he's not familiar with. It's vulnerable and selfless and loving and… so much more than he deserves, but you’re doing it for him. He has no way of repaying all the ways you've healed him. His wounds are still there, and they're far too deep to ever hope for the scars to completely fade, but your presence alone is a soothing balm he doesn't think he could ever live without again.

One day, maybe he'll look you in the eyes when you take care of him like this. Maybe he'll turn around and let you card your fingers through the feathers on his cheeks. Maybe after that, maybe when you're taking a nap, he'll hold you close in his arms like he wants to and envelop you in feathers, and he'll show you, despite how much he wishes they weren't there, how warm his wings can be.

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