#will fall asleep after posting this so uh night night

[tuensartpages]

💜🤍✨

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well

[gemini-queen42]

Batb: Other Than Human - Themes stuff (& why I Called It That)

That's right folks, the self-indulgent "throwing any concept I like at the wall and haphazardly mixing together what sticks" au rewrite Thing has Actual Themes! That kind of happened accidentally but they are so real for that so let's get into it.

The Main Narratives Themes Trio of the story now all also embody expanded themes about being an "Other", when being a person is not enough to be properly considered human- more specifically of a neurodivergent/queer girlhood type flavor.

Summary is that it's called "Other Than Human" because the prominent theming is about being considered something other than human due to not fitting the mold of the 'norm'.

[This is a long one so details & specific character stuff are under the cut<3]

Amalure has the greatest departure from her original counterparts thematic placing, so we'll start with her. Amalure retains Gaston's social standing, reputation, etc. But it's of course not quite the same- because she is a woman, and she is not revered for being the picture of ideal womanhood/femininity. Instead, she excels in masculinity, but remains firm that she is and always will be a woman. So, to justify the desire & awe people have for her, they dehumanize her: She doesn't need to follow the Rules because she is outside of them. Amalure is not a person: she is a symbol, a figure, an object. A legend, a folksong, a modern myth. Her skills are not skills they are blessings, inherent, a mundane magic or supernatural. Despite having grown up in Villeneuve for her entire life, she is considered exotic, and is practically, if not actually, fetishized. And through all of this, the status quo and social order gets to be retained without question, and she gets to exist as the exception that proves the rule, rather than the Undesirable that she'd be marked as otherwise.

Amalure is fine with this, because this dehumanization is her status quo: She doesn't really view herself as a person either, she is defined by her relationship to other people, by who she is to them. Amalure has never been a person to anybody: Growing up she was never just a girl, never just Amalure: She was a girl with a mans brain, an embodiment of her fathers greatest achievements, an embodiment of her mothers worst mistakes, she is her fathers daughter or her mothers daughter, but not her own. (and she never both, it is either or, mother or father, never both, never parents.)

Princess Eve/The Beast is the other end of this, of operating through her dehumanization. Upon being cursed, she adheres to what societies have oft wanted to happen to their Undesirables: Hide away and never be seen by the public again. It is entirely self-inflicted, as most of her suffering truly is. She operates not through others dehumanizing view of her, but her dehumanizing view of herself and its warping of how she believes others view her. Because, well, the servants still view her as a person. I mean, they're still human- under the new object forms. And the separation of humanity that is easy to slip into on matters of royalty is awfully minimal as well; they watched her grow up, and she grew up among them.

The girl's bratty, spoiled, temperamental, and is a ball of horrid consequences of the shallow views and ideals learned from surrounding nobility. But she's also the girl that fell asleep listening to Cogsworth explain the many technicalities to managing servants; because she was stubborn in asserting her authority as the mistress of the castle, and thus she Must have say over its goings ons. But the majordomo's voice can be awfully soothing when he's not high-strung on anxiety, and it's hard to pay attention when you don't understand what's being discussed, so its all going in one ear and out the other. And She's Lumiere's 'Evie', who was so amused when Lumiere would draw on a little mustache when dancing the male roles so the princess could learn some duo dances, or because she didn't look very "waiter-like" (because Eve wasn't entirely sure what a maître d' did, but it seemed to have something to do with waiters), and who got annoyed every time the dance teacher/maître d' would warn her not to hurt her body in her pursuits, because it seemed so silly, why would anyone do that? And she's the girl who dragged Mrs. Potts to have tea with her, because she made the best tea and as princess she would have only the best; and if you're going to have tea you may as well have a tea party, and you can't really have a party of one, but two isn't much of a party either so she's going to drag Babette away from her duties too, since the maid was so elegant and thus would be perfect.

Honestly, the girl probably would've turned out fine if she was raised by just the servants. But they weren't the only forces in her life: she's a princess, so she's got to host and interact with important people and learn how to Be noble which isn't something any of the servants can teach her. And it is under the pressures and eyes of nobility, is in mixing and learning their social rules, that learns the lessons that will lead to her curse: That to be considered human and treated as such, one must look human. And to be such as a woman meant to look beautiful, like the ideal. As a woman, to be worthy is to be beautiful and vice versa. And even if she does not, she must have some way to serve men. Otherwise, she is nothing. Eve met these requirements well, and where she did not yet her authority as princess covered. So when a beggar woman is at her doorstep, the princess turns her away: because she is old, ugly, so long past her 'prime'- there is no worth to her anymore. There is no point caring for her future.

Helene stands as both the middle ground and inverse to the other two. She is an Other by virtue of her mind, she is Objectifiable by virtue of her beauty. She sits on the precipice between Undesirable and Desired, seeming nearly apathetic to where she lands despite popular encouragement to embrace or smother aspects of herself. Helene is quite sure she's a person like anyone else, thank you, and is frankly frustrated and a bit weirded out that others seem to have a hard time getting the memo- she doesn't like or want to assume the worst, though, so maybe she just missed another confusing untold social rule or something. I mean, the local triplets really do seem to be advising in good faith- they really do think of her as one of them to an extent (for reasons Helene is yet to know); they just don't understand her.

When Amalure pursues her, there's an unspoken aspect to the deal of marriage she proposes: Helene will get a secured place on the in of the community, a secure standing the promises people no longer questioning or trying to encourage her to no longer be herself. But Helene just isn't interested in Amalure like that, and she also sees what the real trade-off of that security is; that uncomfortable dehumanization that is exactly what Helene doesn't want to deal with anymore. If Amalure is fine living with it than she is free to do as she pleases, but the huntress doesn't seem to understand what Helene could possibly have a problem with- and it's not like they can discuss it, because it's unspoken, and you're not supposed to speak the unspoken things, because they're unspoken for a reason- even if you don't know what that reason is. Helene knows that rule, at least.

When Helene meets the Beast, she regards her as she does any other. It's plain as day that the Beast has a humanity to her, whether she's really "human" or not- she thinks and she feels, and that's enough for Helene.

Because Helene grew up raised by a single dad who she got most of her brain workings from, and he is a man of compassion and science. Off he'd send his beloved daughter to go and question and figure out the world for herself, to experiment and learn and become whatever she desires. Off to bed he'd send her to tell her fairy tales and have their lessons of love and compassion and humanity understood as she drifted off to sleep. Helene was never Odd with her father, never Other, in fact they were so easily two of a kind. It was so jarring, hearing people imply Tyndare less than sane; his logic paths were so easy to follow- but apparently his voice gruffs enough that others have a hard time understanding what he's saying sometimes, so that's where things seem to get lost in translation she guesses. People became jarring in other ways as she grew up too, because suddenly there seemed to be lots of social things she was supposed to know or be but didn't and wasn't, and it became very apparent very quickly that she was an Other among her village.

Overall: Eve & Helene get to go through these themes through the main plot, and post curse-breaking is when Eve gets to properly deal with the internalized issues and whatnot. Like she's learned beauty doesn't matter when it comes to love, and shouldn't decide whether or not someone should be cared about, and Helene loves her despite her having been beastly and despite her being a failure of a woman- (because she no longer fits the feminine ideal after the curse is broken, and frankly she never will again.) But she's still a Failure Of A Woman and Helene deserves Better Than That! So there's still work to do.

Amalure remains static on this aspect of the narrative until after the battle at the castle, where she does survive! .. barely. and it's later, in an argument with her mother that same night, bleeding out on the kitchen floor, when she asserts that she's her daughter too, not just her fathers. she has always been her daughter, always will be, she is the daughter of both of them, because that's not something that just switches or turns on and off- and it's an entire rant that I will not recite here, but the important part is the assertion that she is, always has been, always will be, the daughter of both her parents at once- that's the first little step for her arc of recognizing her own individual personhood and whatnot.

[dollyichi]

LOPPED EAR BUNNY . . . nagi seishiro x f ! reader. m—dni. 2.1k words ⋮ unprotected / pulling out / overstim but pretty vanilla / established relationship / not proofread just hit post!

after getting on all the rides you wanted to go on, you and nagi were walking hand in hand across the game booths. it took a little convincing for this date since it wasn’t necessarily both your thing, but you wanted to try something new.

you scanned the area. lots of families and couples on their dates playing the games and trying to win the prizes.

one booth already caught your eye. nagi always has his eyes on you, so he already knew what you wanted the moment you started to take slower steps and when you’ve gotten quiet.

“which one do you want?” nagi asks, looking at the rows of stuff toys in the carnival booth as he brought you both closer. there were a variety of toys, some are figurines, squishy toys, and plushies. hanged on the wall from smaller ones to the bigger ones.

the booth you were in has a simple ball toss game. you think it was probably rigged, knowing how this carnival was just a small one in your neighborhood. you think that the cups were actually glued together and on the table to prevent anyone from getting the big prize. squirting your eyes to see if there was any visible residue of glue.

too bad they underestimated your boyfriend who’d do anything to make that smile on your face bigger. “i think the bunny’s cute.” you point. he looks at it, then back at you.

“looks like you.” he says, “in a cute dress too.” and he immediately leaves your side to get a try.

“how do i win the bunny up there?” nagi says. they look at him with a smile before he goes closer, already feeling intimidated. you don’t blame them though, his head’s almost hitting the roof of the booth. “h-hi sir! that’s one of our big prizes! if you successfully knock down all three towers, we’ll let you claim it!”

he probably thinks it was rigged too.

“m’kay.” taking out his wallet to pay and the person manning the booth gives him three balls, then stands to the side. you stand back knowing nagi’s too strong without even trying too hard.

you counted in your head while he got ready. nagi’s got a tight grip on each one.

one, two, three!

each of nagi’s throws hit the cups with a bang. the booth manager’s eye twitches from the shock, visibly in a panic as he looks at each cup that has fallen on the concrete floor. you clap eagerly hugging him from the side while he claimed the plushie. it’s even bigger up close, the tips of its soft paws reaching your knees.

“thank you thank you! i love you!” he hands it over to you, leaning down with his cheek close to your face. you beamed, kissing his cheek and hugging the bunny close. “let’s get home.” you say with a sheepish smile, intertwining your hands while your arm carries the toy.

nagi smiles watching you and the bunny while its lopped ears bounced as you skipped beside him.

reaching your shared flat you immediately plop down on the bed, cuddling with the bunny he won for you. “hmph.” he says, closing the door. pushing you both to the side to get more space on the bed. “you like that bunny more than me now?” he says wrapping an arm around your waist. his chin is on your shoulder while draping his leg on yours, mimicking the way you were hugging the plushie.

you giggle, turning to him to plant a soft peck on his nose. “nuh-uh! i’m just really happy you got this for me. looked real hot doing it too.”

“yeah?” nagi says, kissing in the blade of your shoulder. “didn’t even try that hard.” he continues to leave kisses on you. moving further up each time. you flutter your eyes close, snuggling between him and the plushie.

you stay like that for a bit, sandwiched in between and you feel like you could fall asleep. the ac was so cold and the night was about to come. nagi peppering you with kisses and you figured he’s also getting sleepy.

well, you’re wrong.

nagi loves you with his whole heart but finds it hard to communicate. to him actions matter the most to let you understand. and so his mouth lingers, teasingly poking the tips of his tongue and licking you. you giggle at your boyfriend feeling ticklish.

you always end up bringing a lot of emotions to his plate that he can’t seem to handle. his love for you is always overflowing that he can’t control, and you always reciprocated perfectly when he showed you how he felt.

the strap of your dress falls down to the side. giving nagi more access to kiss you, more space to leave his marks. you whimper when you feel his hand tracing circles in your inner thigh. inching upwards and pressing on your clothed clit.

“s-sei…” he’s leaving small bites on you causing you to instinctively arch your back.

you look at him, letting go of the bunny to face him. nagi immediately sighs, tilting his head to the side. you’re so pretty to him. the pretty blush you put on is still there, your lashes fluttering that sent butterflies to his stomach. as if his body hand a mind of his own, focused on your lips, kissing you so suddenly with so much care.

it didn’t take long before it got messy. gasping in his mouth while he’s sucking on your bottom lip. his tongue moving against yours and suddenly you’re so weak you eyes flutter. he’s already bunching up your dress, sitting up slightly and you chased his lips. trying to continue the kiss that had strings of spit when he moves his head to kiss your deeper.

moving your hips so you could feel some type of friction from his thumb resting on your panties.

nagi pulls away so he could take off his shirt, wiping the mess on your lips. you didn’t know what he was thinking, grabbing the bunny and having you hug it. “don’t want this bunny covered in spit right?”

you rest your head on the plushie’s soft chest and wait for him.

nagi felt shivers down his spine at the visual alone. he couldn’t help but grin. you with teary eyes, lips puffy with your crumpled dress to top it off. “damn pretty.” he mumbles, moving your skirt up to remove your panties.

you could feel how sticky it was from how slow he removed it. “h-hahh so wet just from that?” he brings your panties closer to his face, and he’s already towering over you. letting you see the damp part on your cotton panties. you scrunch your nose, eyebrows crossed as you grow impatient. “don’t take too long…” you say, trying to reach for him with one hand.

you think it’s cute that nagi’s riled up. it wasn’t always like this but today was particularly a good day. he wanted to spoil you extra today for how cute you were. recalling how excited you were the other to invite him on this date. chirping about how it’d be a nice thing to try every once in a while.

he takes your wrist and places your hand on the back of his neck. he’s so big he’s towering over both you and the plush.

nagi’s lips are on yours again, pushing up the skirt of your dress. feeling his fingers slide along your folds. you gasp out when he starts palming your clit. swift circular motions as his fingers teased your hole. you’re so wet his fingertips are already itching to get in.

they enter swiftly, stretching you out and you’re pulling him closer. you’re gasping against his tongue—you knew you were close. “d-don’t want.” was what you managed to say. nagi’s fingers stills inside you.

“don’t want what?” his voice is so teasing, it only make you whine. but he already knew what you wanted. unbuttoning his jeans and sliding off along his boxers. cock springing out with his pretty pink tip already leaking with pre.

you bite your lip when he lines his cock along your entrance. dragging it along your cunt. “ready baby?”

he slowly enters, even just the tip was sending you over the edge. “hah… fuck…” nagi’s breathing heavily when he feels you clenching on him. “fucking tight.” he mutters.

“wait wait something’s- something’s-“ you’re pushing him away but you didn’t have the strength. “s-sei- i-i can’t! wait!” you’re a stuttering moaning mess the moment he bottoms out.

you’re so wet you could hear your cunt gushing around his cock. and you’re no longer sure what’s going on. nagi coos at you for a moment before moving. not too fast, not too slow. so consistent with his thrusts he’s fucking you through your orgasm so well.

you’re so sensitive it hurt so bad. everything felt hot. squirming and twitching under him when you’re feeling everything too much from your high.

“you love me that much that you came from me putting it in?” he takes your thighs and places them on his waist. fastening the pace. you’re practically squeezing the plushie, burying your face onto it while he fucked you.

you’re whining out his name and he couldn’t pay too much attention on what you’re trying to say. words always broken and cut off by your own moans, so unintelligible but he already knew how much you’re enjoying it from your pussy tightening on him.

you feel him getting harder inside you, twitching against your walls. that’s all because you’re so cute holding onto his gift just for you. taking his cock like such a good girl and repaying him for his ‘hard work.’

“hug her tightly for me baby.”

the room is filled with the sounds of your thighs hitting against each other and creams from the bed. every whine of yours is followed by his grunts. he’s on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist. fucking you so good you started to reach for him with one of your hands.

he moves down to plant a kiss on your lips. your hand is on the back of neck, putting your foreheads together.

his eyes are on his cock fucking your pussy. with blurry eyes you look to where he was, seeing how you both connect is sending you over the edge again.

“one more for me, cum on me.” your moans build up—pitch getting higher and higher while you bucked your hips.

always so eager to let him fuck you, moves moving like you’re hopping just like a bunny.

you’re still cumming, calling him each time until you finally felt that sweet release. “bit more…” he says, chasing his own high before pulling out. jerking himself off and letting the strings of his cum fall on your tummy.

you lick your lips before clicking your tongue. one of your hands collecting his seed on your tummy before licking it off your finger tips. looking directly at him when you do.

nagi gulps, squinting his eyes with short heavy breaths. trying not to get hard again but he knew he’s already twitching just from seeing that.

got him already thinking of another round but he knew you were so tired from today. ended up deciding that you both needed a nap first.

you both pant, trying to catch your breaths. nagi plops to your side, the bed creaking slightly from the impact.

he wouldn’t rest just yet, “have to clean you up…” reaching for the tissues on the bed side table to wipe you up. making sure you weren’t sticky anymore.

you finally let go of the plush, setting it to the side and snuggled up to your boyfriend. but he stands up to grab the plushie, taking a double look to make sure it was all clean for you, and then places it on your chair. “sorry but i want you to myself now.” he says while puffing his cheeks. you give him a gummy smile, not having the energy to laugh.

he lays back down to cuddle you. and you’re planting kisses all over his face.

you didn’t even realize that you fell asleep. waking up and you’re still wrapped in his arms. he’s sleeping so soundly with only his boxers on. you chuckle when you hear him snoring softly.

you saw he changed your clothes for you to be more comfy. it made your heart skip a beat, melting further into his warmth.

“i love you seishiro.” you whisper, before drifting back to sleep. not knowing he was half-awake, and heard you. giving you a small kiss and bringing you closer. he chuckles to himself when he looks at your face, nose twitching in your sleep.

“like a bunny.”

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i love him so much i want to fuck him while he’s in a rilakkuma hoodie

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Bars

Now, as you probably know, most of the time Billy is ages 8 to maybe 15 (that’s what I’ve seen anyways) and of course, his Captain Marvel form looks like an adult. So, it wouldn’t be strange for an adult to ask another adult to go to a bar with them. Which is why Billy is caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he could just say no, but after a long mission where they’d all spent like two days on an alien planet under constant heavy fire from a cute and cuddly, yet surprisingly bloodthirsty race? It’d be weird not to accept. They might suspect him for being a kid! And boy, Billy does not want that. But on the other hand, he’s not of legal drinking age.

He ends up going with them anyways. Now, all the heroes are sat at a dingy bar in Central City, out of costume, of course. Though, some of them cough Bruce cough Diana cough Arthur cough and you can’t forget Billy, still in Marvel form. (He took a page out of Supe’s book and wore glasses. He’s also for some reason wearing Hawaiian print. (He didn’t have actual adult clothes and needed to borrow from a bargain bin))

Billy thankfully found a loophole for this whole mess. That’s right, this guys gonna be sipping virgin margaritas for the rest of the night. And, he try as many flavors as he wants because you wanna know the best part? Bruce is paying for everything! If Billy could jump in joy, he would. It didn’t matter that Hal was a little obnoxious when drunk off his mind. He’s dealt with worse and it’s not like it’s all that bad. He’s kinda funnier than usual this way. He gets the spend the rest of the day with people he considers friends, that’s all that really matters.

GL: “Dude, why do you keep ordering virgins?”

Crap. What does Billy say to that? Right off the bat, Billy ignores Solomon’s first, and quite frankly, wild lie to tell.

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh uh… I… like the way they taste…?”

He’s a bad liar.

Aquaman: *drinking beer* “Try again, bud.”

Okay… It looks like he might have to listen to Solomon after all. Gosh dang it.

Marvel: “Uhm… I kinda used to maybe sort of might’ve had an addiction and had to go to AA a long time ago.” *Sips drink*

He was always better at lying when the lie was already prepared.

*Whole table goes silent*

Marvel: “Uh… I’ve been sober for a while. Like…” ‘Twelve years, Billy,’ Solomon supplied in his head. “…Twelve years.”

*Table is still silent.*

Flash: *Interrupts silence by slamming hands on table* “Dude! You cannot keep dropping Marvel Lore Bombs™️ on us like this!” (Btw this is the same universe as the Marvel Compilations post. I didn’t mean to write it like it was the same universe but I might as well connect them cause why not)

Marvel: “Whaddya mean?”

Superman: “Well, Marvel…” *scratches back of head* “You kinda have this tendency to… Gosh, how do I put this?”

Martian Manhunter: “You drop obscure information about yourself at random times.”

Wonder Woman: “Then you just go about your day like you didn’t say it in the first place. For example Cap, you can’t just tell me that at some point you were an Amazonian, you were there for my birth, and then just walk off.”

GL: “Marvel, how old are you?”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuhhhhhhh….”

Batman: “You date back to having existed before Mesopotamia. I want to know the answer to that question Marvel.” *Bat-glares Billy while sipping from his drink.*

Bruce was definitely going to add the AA thing to his quite small folder on Marvel.

The night continues on with the other members of the JL grilling Billy for more information about himself, which Solomon helps with by either supplying him with lies, or with things previous champions did. By the time the night was over, Billy never wanted to go to a bar again. He unshazamed in an alley and went home to his little place. He bee-lined to his sleeping bag and just when he was about to fall asleep, something popped into his mind:

‘Why didn’t I just say I didn’t like the way it tastes?’ That thought kept him up for a couple more hours.

[gilverrwrites]

Bat Feeder

AN: I keep seeing those rich people social media posts where people fill Dollie’s up with snacks and leave them outside for delivery drivers, and imagining doing something similar for the bats. Bat-Fam/Reader, 1K words (Batman, Harley Quinn, Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, Signal, and Spoiler) CWs: None, just a silly little fluff fic. GN! Reader

It starts small, just a tray with some water bottles, packs of gum, maybe some protein bars and a multi-pack of chips you bought but didn’t like. You write ‘For Batman, Robin, and other vigilantes; Thanks for what you do :)‘ in Sharpie on the front of the tray and leave it on your balcony, not really expecting much, it was just a silly thought after too much doom scrolling.

It goes untouched for weeks, you’ve almost forgotten about it until one night, at like 2 AM you hear the sound of heavy boots walking on metal grate, so faint you would have missed it if you’d been asleep. Curious, you peek through your curtain and there’s Red Hood!

He stands there for a long time, motionless as he seems to stare at it, helmet hiding any real emotion until he pockets a pack of gum and water before leaving, dropping down into the street.

News must spread amongst the other heroes cause within a few days the basket is nearly empty. Enthused, the next time you go to the store you pick up some new items, just a few extra bits that are within your budget; chips that don’t taste like cardboard, candy, and energy drinks.

Your efforts are clearly appreciated as you wind up having to restock every couple of days. The energy drinks are the biggest takers, and you worry you might be supplying the younger ones with high amounts of caffeine that they shouldn’t be having.

One day you’re scrolling through insta during your work break and see Spoiler has posted a masked selfie of herself holding up a chocolatey protein bar with the caption ‘Perks of the job! 💜⭐️ #thankyoukindcivilian’ or something like that. In the back of the photo you see your basket and you’re elated.

Another day you wake up to a note wedged halfway through your window, it’s from Robin, stating that he’s a vegan and if it’s not too much trouble could you cater to that. The same day you dump a bunch of fruit that you were never gonna eat anyway into the basket and hope it will hold over until your next trip to the store where you spend ages examining the dietary information of everything you pick up, eventually finding a couple of items you hope he’ll like.

Your efforts are appreciated because the next day you find another note from him offering his gratitude.

After the novelty has worn off it dies down, you fall into a routine; they never take too much, so you only have to top it up every few weeks. Until one morning you wake up to find it completely ransacked, your sign has been scribbled out, replaced by the words: ‘THX 4 THE SNACKS’, and a bunch of doodles. You suspect Harley Quinn since one of the drawings is her trademark 3 of diamonds.

Unsure how to proceed, you clean up the mess and bring it inside. You don’t want to attract danger, but you did enjoy doing it. The graffitied tray sits by the door for a long time while you consider what to do, more and more forgotten with each day.

That’s until there’s a knock on your balcony door in the middle of the night. Seems ominous, risky in a city like Gotham, especially after what happened with Harley, but just like that night with Red Hood, you can’t help but investigate.

When you poke your head around the curtain you find Nightwing staring back at you. He smiles and waves to you like you’re long-time friends and it does a lot to ease your shock.

“Um, hi. Can I help you?” You ask as you open the door.

“Uh, maybe, see, I came all the way from Blüdhaven cause I was told there would be snacks.” He replies, dramatically looking around your balcony as he speaks. “But there’s no snacks.”

“Yeah. I stopped after Harley Quinn vandalised it.” You gesture to the now discarded red and black tray. “But I have some chocolate, if you want some. Or do you like Cheez-Its?”

“You don’t have to do that.” He sounds disappointed.

“No it’s fine, it’s no trouble, wait here!”

You raid your kitchen before returning with a handful of snacks and drinks from your own supply and offer them Nightwing.

“Oh wow, Thanks!”

You didn’t have to, but you’re glad you did. He has such a genuinely giddy look on his face.

“Really though, we don’t do it for the free stuff, we appreciate it a lot.” He speaks between mouthfuls of M&Ms. “If you ever wanted to do it again, I wouldn’t worry about Harley. She's mostly harmless to civilians these days.”

He thanks you a few more times before leaving to finish his patrol, but not before warning; “Hey, don’t open your door for any more strangers in the middle of the night, yeah? Well, unless they’re as handsome as me.”

Harley being mostly harmless doesn’t fill you with confidence, but you figure if those guys are brave enough to risk their lives fighting crime, you can be brave enough to put a box of treats outside. This time with a new sign that reads “For Bats, birds, other vigilantes, and Harley Quinn ♥️”

You hope including her might make her less likely to lash out.

From there everything falls back into normality for a while, you even start adding seasonal treats for special occasions, until eventually, they seem to stop by less and less, perhaps they grew bored or maybe you’re not a convenient stop on their latest patrol route, you don’t really mind, you persist.

Every now and again on your days off you’ll spot signal stopping by, he always gives you a smile and a thumbs up when he sees you watching him.

After months and months, maybe a year or so it happens. The big one. You’re struggling to sleep one night, the flat just feels too hot, too claustrophobic. Overwhelmed by it you storm outside, needing the night sky and its cold air but when you get there you’re greeted by an imposing shadow of a man, Batman. He’s holding a half-drunk bottle of water and his entire body is so stock still, you’re not even sure if he’s real or a statue. After a solid minute of silent staring you quietly step back inside, count to 30, and re-emerge. He’s gone, completely dissolved into the darkness of the night with half a bottle of water and a snack pack of mint Oreos.

[sinful-sonnet]

Between Duty & Desire

Dbf!Joel Miller x babysitter f!Reader

word count: 5.7k

A continuation of this post

Warnings: smut, hair pulling, unprotected piv, I’m too lazy to add anymore lel

-

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” you say softly, though your voice betrays how much you don’t want him to stop. Your words are barely a whisper, but he hears them

Joel leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. “You’re too tense, sweetheart,” he murmurs. His voice is deep, velvet smooth, laced with exhaustion from the day but undeniably tender. His thumbs work against the knots in your shoulders, and you feel your resolve crumbling with every stroke.

“Joel,” you start, his name falling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. His hands still for a moment, and you swear you feel him tense behind you. It’s a line crossed—one you both acknowledge in the stillness of the room.

But then his hands resume their motion, slower this time, his touch more deliberate. “There you go,” he murmurs, almost like he’s soothing himself as much as you. “That’s better.”

You tilt your head to glance up at him, your eyes meeting his. The way he looks at you—soft, yet intense—makes your heart race. “You don’t have to take care of me,” you manage, though the words feel hollow.

“Don’t I?” His voice is soft, but his tone holds weight. He leans down, just enough so that you catch the faint scent of sawdust and soap clinging to him. “You’ve been lookin’ after Sarah all night. Least I can do is look after you.”

The air between you feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and desires. You should step away, remind yourself why this is a terrible idea. But instead, you let his hands linger, his touch grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

“Joel…” you whisper again, his name trembling on your lips. This time, it’s not a warning—it’s a plea.

He leans down further, his voice low and full of something you can’t quite name. “Tell me to stop,” he says, his fingers grazing the curve of your jaw. “And I will.”

You don’t. Instead, you turn slightly toward him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth. The world narrows to just the two of you—the quiet hum of the house fading into nothingness as his eyes search yours.

“Sweetheart…” he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, but the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine.

And then, as if the pull is too strong to resist, his lips ghost over yours, hesitant but full of promise. It’s tentative, a question, waiting for an answer you’re too far gone to deny.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s standing still. Joel’s lips hover so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from him, but something in you snaps back to reality. You pull back abruptly, standing so quickly that the chair scrapes against the floor, breaking the quiet tension of the room.

“I—uh—should go,” you stammer, your heart hammering in your chest as you gather your books and shove them into your bag, your movements frantic and clumsy.

Joel straightens, his brow furrowing in confusion and something else—maybe regret. “Sweetheart—wait,” he says softly, his voice laced with concern.

You don’t look at him as you zip your bag shut, slinging it over your shoulder. “It’s late. I shouldn’t be keeping you up,” you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays the swirl of emotions inside you. “Sarah’s asleep, so… my job’s done.”

“Darlin’, you don’t have to rush out,” Joel says, his voice gentler now, but you can hear the tension beneath it. He steps closer, his hands twitching like he wants to reach out but knows better.

You finally glance at him, forcing a polite smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you say, your voice steady but distant, like you’re building a wall between you.

His jaw tenses at the formality, but he doesn’t stop you as you move toward the door. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy and searching, but you don’t look back.

“Drive safe,” he murmurs as you step outside, his voice barely audible over the quiet click of the door closing behind you.

As you make your way to your car, the cool night air bites at your skin, grounding you. Your hands shake as you start the engine, and as you pull out of the driveway, you can’t help but glance at the house one last time. The lights in the kitchen window glow softly, and you wonder if he’s still standing there, watching you leave.

Your chest aches, and you grip the steering wheel tighter, willing yourself to push the memory of his touch, his voice, and the almost-kiss out of your mind. This is for the best, you tell yourself, over and over, like a mantra.

But as you drive away, you know deep down that this moment will haunt you—his presence lingering like a shadow you can’t shake.

•

The next time you’re at Joel’s house, you feel different. Stronger. The fresh haircut and perfectly polished nails you decided to get are just surface changes—they symbolize a shift inside you, a decision to stop running and face things head-on. If Joel wants something from you, he’s going to have to show it. You won’t back down this time.

Sarah is asleep, tucked into her bed after a fun evening of games and giggles. Now, you’re sitting at the dining table again, but this time, you aren’t hiding behind your books or keeping your head down. Your posture is relaxed, your chin lifted. You’re ready.

When the door finally opens, you hear the familiar sounds of Joel’s return—the keys hitting the dish, the heavy thud of his boots. You don’t flinch, don’t rush to look busy. Instead, you wait, your heartbeat steady but your anticipation building.

Joel walks into the room, and the second he sees you, his steps falter just slightly. His eyes flicker over you—your hair, your nails, the way you’re sitting so calmly, waiting for him. His gaze lingers for a beat too long, and you see something flicker in his expression, something he’s trying to hold back.

“Evenin’,” he says, his voice low and familiar, but there’s a roughness to it, like he’s caught off guard.

“Evening, Mr. Miller,” you reply smoothly, your tone steady but with just enough of a challenge to make his brow twitch. You know he hates when you call him that now, and it’s exactly why you said it.

He exhales sharply, shaking his head as he sets his bag down on the counter. “Didn’t we talk about that?”

“We did,” you reply, leaning back slightly, your eyes meeting his with a calm confidence. “But you didn’t exactly say much about anything else, did you?”

That catches him off guard. He pauses, his hand still resting on the counter, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. “What’re you tryin’ to say, sweetheart?”

“I’m saying,” you start, standing up slowly and stepping around the table, closing some of the distance between you, “that I’m done pretending nothing’s going on here.”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his eyes searching yours. “And what exactly do you think’s goin’ on?” he asks, his voice softer now, like he’s afraid of the answer but can’t stop himself from asking.

You take another step closer, tilting your head slightly as you look up at him. “That’s up to you to tell me, Joel,” you say, your voice steady but your heart racing. “You keep looking at me like this, saying things that make me think you want something. But I’m not gonna sit here wondering anymore. You want me? Prove it.”

The room feels electric, the air thick with the weight of your words. Joel stares at you, his expression unreadable, but you can see the battle playing out behind his eyes—the push and pull of what he wants versus what he thinks is right.

Finally, he takes a slow step toward you, his eyes locked on yours. “You sure you’re ready for that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble, filled with both caution and desire.

You don’t look away, don’t falter. “I’m standing right here, aren’t I?”

For a moment, it’s like the whole world has stopped, the only sound in the room the quiet hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Then, Joel reaches out, his hand brushing lightly against yours, his touch tentative but charged with meaning.

“Alright,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper. “You want me to prove it? I will.”

“I’m waiting” you bat your eyelashes innocently at him

Joel's lips twitch into a faint smirk at your words, but there's a flicker of something deeper in his eyes— hesitation, caution, desire all tangled together.

He takes another slow step toward you, closing the distance until you can feel the heat radiating off him.

His gaze drops to your lips, lingering for a moment before locking onto your eyes.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he mutters, his voice low and rough, like he's struggling to hold himself back.

You tilt your head, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you bat your eyelashes again. "Maybe," you say softly. "But you're still stalling, Joel."

His jaw tightens, and you can see the internal battle raging within him. He's not a man who rushes into things, but there's something about the way you're looking at him-challenging him, daring him-that's unraveling every ounce of his restraint.

"I don't think you know what you're askin' for, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. "This ain't somethin' we can just take back."

You take a small step forward, your confidence unwavering. "Maybe I don't want to take it back."

That's all it takes. In an instant, Joel's resolve shatters. He closes the remaining space between you, his hand coming up to cup your jaw with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. His thumb brushes against your cheek, and his eyes search yours one last time, as if giving you a chance to stop him.

But you don't. You're done hesitating, done running.

"I'm waiting," you whisper again, your voice steady but laced with anticipation.

And then his lips are on yours, firm yet gentle, like he's been holding back for far too long.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, as if he's testing the waters.

But when you lean into him, your hands resting against his chest, he deepens it, his other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer.

It's overwhelming-the way he smells, the way he tastes, the way his touch sets every nerve in your body alight.

You've imagined this moment, but nothing could have prepared you for how real, how intense it feels.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you're both breathless.

His thumb strokes your cheek again as he whispers, "There. That enough proof for you?"

You let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at your lips. "It's a start."

Joel chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your chest. "Careful, darlin'" he murmurs, his voice warm and teasing.

"You might just get more than you bargained for."

You meet his gaze, your confidence never wavering. "I'm counting on it."

-

You don't wait for him to make the next move. Instead, you close the small gap between you, pressing your lips against his once more. This time, there's no hesitation. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips, teasing him, challenging him to let you in.

Joel groans softly, a low, rough sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He opens his mouth to you, his tongue meeting yours in a slow, deliberate dance that makes your head spin. His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, like he can't stand the thought of any space between you.

The kiss deepens, becomes hungrier, more urgent. His lips are warm and soft, his stubble scratching against your skin in a way that's intoxicating. You feel his hand slide up your back, fingers brushing lightly against the nape of your neck as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss even further.

You pour every ounce of your frustration, your desire, your longing into the kiss, and he matches you beat for beat. It's raw and electric, a fire that's been simmering for far too long finally igniting.

When you finally pull back for air, your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath. Joel's forehead rests against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with a mix of desire and something softer, something deeper.

"Sweetheart..." he murmurs, his voice hoarse and filled with something you can't quite name. "You really are somethin' else."

You smirk, your confidence burning bright.

"Told you I was waiting."

He chuckles, low and warm, his thumb brushing along your jaw. "You sure you're ready for everything that comes with this?" he asks, his tone serious despite the teasing edge.

You nod, your resolve unshaken. "I'm not backing down, Joel. Not anymore."

His grip on you tightens slightly, his gaze holding yours. "Alright," he murmurs, his voice steady.

"Then let's see where this goes."

-

Your heart pounds as you look up at Joel, his grip firm but not controlling, his dark eyes studying you. Something inside you flares—a mix of confidence and curiosity. You want to see if you can take charge, see how far he's willing to let you lead.

You press your hands against his chest, pushing him gently but firmly back until the edge of the table catches him. He raises an eyebrow at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips, but he doesn't resist.

"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and rough, laced with curiosity and amusement.

You tilt your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you climb onto his lap, straddling him, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Showing you I'm not afraid,"

you say, your voice bold, unwavering.

"I'm not just gonna let you call the shots, Joel."

His smirk widens, his hands instinctively settling on your hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of your jeans. "That right?" he drawls, his tone teasing but edged with something darker, something thrilling. "You think you're in charge now?"

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "For now."

Without waiting for a reply, you kiss him again, this time with more force, more determination. Your tongue slides into his mouth, tangling with his, and you hear a low growl rumble from his chest. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, but he lets you set the pace, lets you take the lead.

You trail your hands up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingertips, and his breath hitches when your nails scrape lightly against his skin through his shirt. You kiss him harder, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip before soothing the spot with your tongue. He lets out a soft curse, his grip on you momentarily tightening before he reins himself in.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he might flip the script on you, take back control. But he doesn't-at least not yet. Instead, he lets you continue, his hands roaming your sides, his lips parting for you every time you claim him.

You feel powerful, exhilarated, but there's an undercurrent of tension, a silent promise in the way his fingers grip your waist. Joel might be letting you take charge for now, but you know it's only because he's allowing it. There's a storm brewing in his restraint, and you can't help but wonder what will happen when it finally breaks.

Joel pulls back from the kiss, his breathing uneven, his forehead resting against yours. His grip on your waist tightens just enough for you to feel the quiet power in his hands—a reminder that while he's let you take the lead, he hasn't truly surrendered.

His eyes lock onto yours, smoldering with an intensity that makes your breath catch. There's heat there, yes, but also something deeper, something unspoken that makes the air between you crackle.

"You're somethin' else," he mutters, his voice low and rough, the Texan drawl thick enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Pushin' me like this... You sure you know what you're gettin' into?"

His words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning all wrapped in one. But you're not backing down. Not now. You lift your chin slightly, your eyes never leaving his as you tighten your grip on his shoulders.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," you say, your voice steady but laced with a teasing edge. "The question is-do you?"

Joel chuckles softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "You've got a sharp tongue, darlin'" he says, his hands sliding up your sides, slow and deliberate. "But let me tell you somethin!"

His grip shifts, his hands settling firmly on your hips as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice drops even lower, a whisper that sends heat pooling in your stomach.

"There's only so much of this I'm gonna let you get away with," he murmurs, the warning clear in his tone. "You keep pushin, and I'm gonna remind you who's really in charge here."

The words send a thrill through you, but you're not ready to give in yet. You lean back just enough to meet his gaze, your lips curling into a defiant smile.

"Maybe I want you to remind me," you say, your voice soft but daring.

Joel's eyes darken further, his grip on you tightening just enough to make your heart race. For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable, as though he's deciding whether to rise to your challenge or let you keep playing this dangerous game.

Then, with a suddenness that leaves you breathless, he flips the dynamic entirely. His hands grip your waist firmly, lifting you effortlessly off his lap and setting you on the edge of the table. He steps between your knees, his hands braced on either side of you, caging you in.

"You've had your fun, sweetheart," he drawls, his voice low and commanding, his eyes burning into yours. "Now it's my turn."

Joel's lips trail down your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as he nips and sucks at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

Each touch is deliberate, possessive, as though he's staking his claim. You tilt your head back slightly, letting him have his way, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

His hands slide up your thighs, the roughness of his palms a stark contrast to the softness of your skin. His grip tightens as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table, his strength undeniable as he presses his body flush against yours. The solid heat of him grounds you, even as your heart races.

"You're mine, princess," he growls against your neck, his voice low and rough, sending a jolt of electricity straight through you. "And don't you ever forget it."

His words make your breath hitch, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something deep within you. You want to challenge him, to push back against his dominance, but the way he holds you, the way he speaks to you, makes it impossible to do anything but surrender—for now.

Your hands slide up his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer. "Is that so?" you whisper, your voice daring but breathless. "Then maybe you should show me, Joel."

His eyes darken at your words, his gaze locking onto yours with a fire that takes your breath away. "You keep askin' for it," he mutters, his voice low and dangerous, "and I'm gonna give it to you. But you better be ready for what comes next, sweetheart."

The challenge in his words makes your pulse quicken, but you nod, your confidence unwavering. "I can handle it."

Joel smirks, a wicked, knowing grin that sends heat flooding through you. "We'll see about that." His lips crash against yours again, his kiss searing and unapologetic, leaving no room for doubt about who's in charge now.

Joel's kiss is overwhelming, consuming, leaving no space for thought or hesitation. His lips are firm against yours, his tongue demanding as it tangles with yours. He's not holding back anymore-every touch, every movement speaks of a man who's been pushed past his limits.

His hands grip your thighs tighter as he presses you more firmly against the edge of the table, his body flush against yours. The way he moves, the way he holds you, leaves no doubt in your mind—he's in control now, and he's making sure you know it.

"You've got no idea what you've started, darlin'" he growls against your lips, his voice thick with a mix of frustration and desire. "But you're gonna find out real quick."

You gasp as his lips return to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he sucks just hard enough to leave a mark. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes your lips. His hands slide up further, his thumbs brushing against your hips, teasing you, testing your resolve.

"Still think you're the one in charge?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

You tilt your head slightly, your breath hitching as you try to regain some of your earlier confidence. "Maybe I just wanted to see if you could keep up."

Joel chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates against your neck. "Keep up?" he repeats, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and piercing.

"Sweetheart, you've got no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

His words are a promise, a warning, and a challenge all at once. He presses his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"You think you can push me like this and come out on top?" His hand slides up, cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with the intensity in his eyes. "Let me make somethin' real clear."

His lips crash against yours again, this time even more commanding, more consuming. His kiss leaves you breathless, his hands gripping you like he's afraid to let go. It's a battle of wills, but one you're losing-and you're not even sure you mind.

Joel's kiss grows fiercer, more demanding, as he takes full control. His tongue delves deeper, exploring your mouth with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His teeth catch your bottom lip, nipping just enough to send a jolt through you before soothing it with his tongue, as if he's both punishing and rewarding you for pushing him this far.

His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you even closer, until there's no space left between you. His body pins you against the table, his weight pressing you down as his hips grind against yours. The friction is electrifying, sending heat surging through you, and you can't help the soft gasp that escapes your lips.

"You feel that?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and low, dripping with desire. "That's what you do to me, sweetheart. You've been teasin' me, pushin' me-and now, you're gonna take all of it."

The evidence of his arousal presses firmly against you, a stark, undeniable reminder of just how much power he has in this moment. But it's not just physical-it's the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he speaks to you. Every word, every movement is calculated, deliberate, meant to show you exactly who's in control.

Your breath catches as his lips trail down your neck again, his teeth grazing your skin before he sucks hard enough to leave another mark. His hands roam your body, possessive and firm, as if he's memorizing every curve, every reaction. He's relentless, and you can feel yourself surrendering completely to him, letting him take whatever he wants.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Joel growls, his voice a mixture of amusement and raw desire. "You wanted me to take control, to show you who you belong to."

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your hands gripping his shoulders as you cling to him, completely at his mercy.

Joel then lifts you up and carries you to the living room. He lays you down on the couch, positioning you so that you're bent over the arm. He stands behind you, his hands quickly unbuttoning and removing your pants.

He lets out a low growl as he takes in the sight of you, completely at his mercy and vulnerable to his touch.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “Bent over like a good girl for me.”

He groans as you push your ass against him, the feeling of your body against his making him even harder. He grabs your hips, holding you still as he leans over you.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls “tell me how much you need me darlin’”

You gasp as he grabs your hair, the sting of his grip sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“I need you so much,” you whimper, your voice shaky with desire. “Please, Joel.. I need you to touch me.”

He circles his fingers around your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. He knows your body well, knows exactly how to touch you to make you squirm and beg for more.

He continues to tease you, his lips moving up to your ear as he whispers in a low, husky voice.

“That feel good, princess?”

You nod frantically, your body arching against his touch as you let out a needy whimper.

“Y-yes, Joel.. please.. more..”

He smirks against your skin, pleased with your response. He loves the way you beg for him, the way you give yourself over to him completely.

He continues to circle your clit with his fingers, his touch growing firmer as he increases the pressure.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. “Begging for me like that..”

He leans down, his lips moving to your ear once again as he whispers in a low, commanding tone.

“Say it again,” he growls. “Tell me how much you need me to make you feel good.”

You shiver at the command in his voice, your body trembling with need.

“I need you so badly,” you whimper, your voice shaking with desire. “Please, Joel.. I need you to make me cum. I need you to make me feel good..”

You whimper in response, unable to do anything but let out a series of desperate, needy sounds as his fingers continue to work their magic against your clit. You're completely at his mercy, your body trembling and your mind filled with a haze of pleasure.

He knows he has you exactly where he wants you, completely surrendered to his touch and his control.

He moves quickly, unable to wait any longer to be inside you. He grabs your hips, positioning himself at your entrance as he looks down at you with a mixture of hunger and desire.

“I can’t hold back anymore,” he growls, his voice rough with need.

Joel pushes into you in one swift, powerful thrust, filling you completely in one movement. He lets out a low groan, his fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to control himself.

“God, you feel so good..” he murmurs, his voice ragged with pleasure. “So tight and perfect around me..”

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, savoring the feeling of being inside you. But as his control starts to slip, his pace quickens, each thrust becoming more and more forceful.

“You like this don’t you darlin,” he growls, his voice possessive and dominant.

You nod desperately, your mind consumed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Every thrust sends waves of ecstasy through your body, making it hard to think or speak.

“Yes.. I love it,” you manage to gasp out, your voice hoarse with pleasure. “I love feeling you inside me..”

He grins, pleased by your response. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, can feel you clenching around him as he drives deeper and deeper into you.

“That’s it, princess,” he murmurs, his voice filled with possessive satisfaction. “Let me hear you say it.. tell me how much you need me to claim you..”

You just let out a loud moan as you come undone.

He groans as you come around him, your body clenching tightly around his cock. He continues to thrust into you, struggling to hold back his own release as he looks over at Sarah's door, making sure it's still shut.

He doesn't want her to see or hear any of this.. he doesn't want anyone to know how he's claiming you, how he's making you his in every way possible..

He grabs your hips, pulling you back onto him as he thrusts harder and faster, chasing his own release. He's close, so close to the edge, and the sight of you coming undone beneath him only pushes him further.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna fill you up,” he growls, his voice strained

His grip on your hips tightens as he continues to pound into you, his pace becoming erratic and desperate. He can feel his orgasm building, the pleasure building up until it’s almost unbearable.

“Take it.. take all of it,” he grunts, his voice hoarse with need. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, princess..”

His hips stutter and his grip on you tightens even more as he reaches his peak. With one final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside you and cums with a guttural groan, his release spilling into you in hot, pulsing waves.

He leans over you, his body trembling as he rides out his orgasm, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

Joel leans over you, his strong arms braced on either side of you, his body trembling as he lets the intensity of the moment consume him. His forehead presses against the back of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he tries to steady himself, both of you still caught in the aftershocks of everything you’ve shared.

For a long moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of his labored breathing and the faint hum of the world outside. His face remains buried against your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin in a way that feels both grounding and intimate. You can feel the weight of him, his warmth pressing into you, a tangible reminder of the connection you’ve just forged.

“Sweetheart…” he finally murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with both exhaustion and something softer. His hand slides down to rest on your hip, his touch gentler now, almost reverent.

You turn your head slightly, your breathing still uneven as you meet his gaze over your shoulder. His dark eyes are softer now, the fiery intensity replaced with a quiet tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

“I told you,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your body still tingling from the overwhelming sensations. “I think I might have an idea now,” you reply, your voice teasing but filled with warmth.

Joel chuckles softly, the sound low and rumbling as he shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you upright against his chest. He holds you there, his grip firm but comforting, as if he’s afraid to let go.

-

Joel steps back, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment before he finally lets go, his touch warm and steady despite the nervous laugh that escapes him. He rubs the back of his neck, his expression softening as he looks at you, a mixture of concern and tenderness in his eyes.

“I got a little carried away there,” he admits, his voice low, the faintest hint of guilt creeping in. “Are you alright?”

You turn to face him, brushing your hair back from your face as you meet his gaze. There’s no hesitation in your voice when you reply. “Yes, I’m fine.” You offer him a small, reassuring smile before adding, “But… would it be okay if I took, like… a bath? Maybe?”

Joel blinks, his lips twitching into a faint smile as he lets out a soft chuckle. “’Course it’s okay,” he says, his voice warm and genuine. “You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart. Go on—I’ll make sure Sarah stays asleep.”

You nod, your smile growing as the tension in the room begins to ease. “Thanks, Joel.”

He gestures toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s down the hall. I’ll grab you some towels.”

As you head toward the bathroom, you hear him rummaging through a closet, his quiet movements a comforting presence even as you step away. When you reach the door, he appears a moment later with a neatly folded towel in one hand and a soft smile on his face.

“Here,” he says, handing it to you. His fingers brush against yours briefly, and for a moment, his gaze lingers, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you’re really okay.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice steady but laced with sincerity.

Joel nods, stepping back to give you space. “Take your time,” he says. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You close the door behind you, the warmth of his presence still lingering as you turn on the faucet and let the sound of running water fill the room. As the tub begins to fill, you take a deep breath, letting the events of the evening wash over you. Whatever happens next, you know one thing for sure: Joel cares, and that thought alone makes you feel a little more grounded.

A/N: \(//∇//)\ i seriously can’t get enough of dbf!joel…send me to horny jail now

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p1 - mat barzal

my masterlist pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: mathew barzal has a crush on you but you have no idea who he is until an interview goes viral. warnings: mentions of past toxic relationship, not edited word count: 612 words requested: yes/no author note: this was requested but has potential for a part 2 I think. also I hate using "y/n" but I had no choice lol requests are open!

"Mathew Barzal has a crush on you”, is the first thing you hear when you wake up.

Your head is pounding, probably from your show last night. People don’t usually bother you until you make an appearance but apparently your assistant finds it necessary to wake you.

“Who’s Mathew Barzal?” you ask but before you can finish your sentence, a phone is shoved in your face and you’re looking at a picture of a hockey player.

A very attractive hockey player.

But then, you see the time.

7:29 a.m.

You roll back over and mumble, “my alarm isn’t set until 10.”

Iris plops down next to you. You’re not able to see her, but you can feel her vibrating with excitement. “C’mon, this is Mat Barzal!”

“And?”

“And, he’s like super hot! And he likes you!”

You groan, rolling over to look at her. “How do you know he likes me?”

Once again, a phone is shoved in your face but this time there’s a video playing.

“What kind of music do you usually listen to before a game to pump you up?” A reporter asks Barzal and he blushes and scratches the back of his neck. There’s a pause before he decides on an answer.

“Uh, y/n l/n has pretty sick music out right now so I’ve been listening to her,” he says and from across the room, a voice shouts: “yeah and he has a giant crush on her!”

The video ends and your view is replaced with Iris’s face. She’s practically trembling with excitement and you can’t help but laugh.

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” you tease and she blushes.

“My ex was an Islanders fan,” she mumbles but then shakes her head. “I can connect with his agent and get his number for you and then-"

"Iris, no," you say, finally sitting up. “I said I wasn’t dating right now. I can’t, not after him.”

You don’t need say his name for the mood to completely darken. Your last relationship nearly ruined you and you’re not ready to open your heart back up to someone when it’s just starting to heal.

Iris nods, not saying anything else. She quietly leaves your room and you flop back on your bed, closing your eyes trying to fall back asleep but it’s useless now. The last thing you want right now is a relationship but you’re a little curious about Mathew Barzal. Your hand reaches out patting around until you find your phone. It’s on do not disturb so when you turn that off, your phone is flooded with notifications. Messages from friends congratulating you on the show, a missed call from your mom - you make a side note to remember to call her back - and finally, you open Instagram and you’re tagged in every single re-post of Mat’s interview. 

Buzzfeed even has an article on it. 

“Huh,” you say outloud to yourself before opening your direct messages and there is one that immediately catches your eye. You hesitate before opening it however because opening it means a lot of things.

It means possibly opening your heart to someone when you feel like it’s just heal. It means the possibility of early morning coffee dates and getting food at 24 hour diners together after your shows or his games. It means long distance sometimes, when you have shows and he has games. The many, many discussions about moving in together before actually doing it. It’s slow mornings together making breakfast, lounging on the sofa when neither of you have anything to do. 

It means the possibility of building something beautiful together.

So, you take the leap and open his message.

barzal97 so about that interview…

[amandacanwrite]

More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition

Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole

Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87

Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.

Upon Your First Meeting

"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."

Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.

The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.

But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS

And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.

"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."

He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.

"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"

Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit

"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."

It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.

As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.

Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.

Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.

It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.

But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.

And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.

He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.

He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.

Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.

But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.

He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.

He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."

When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.

But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.

It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.

When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.

He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.

Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.

He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.

When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him

"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.

He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."

When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.

He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.

And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.

"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."

In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.

He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?

You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.

After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.

"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."

It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.

"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."

His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans

"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."

You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.

You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.

But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.

It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.

Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.

His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.

And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.

You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.

"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"

You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."

He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.

[thehandsresisthim]

“tranquility”

contains: yandere link (botw/totk) x reader, nothing too explicit, but still 18+, ise-kaid reader but it kinda just starts when you’re already in hyrule, maybe i’ll post the next ‘chapters’ the following weeks if i remember to ehem

word count: ~1400

You and him find a secluded spot in the woods to spend the night.

He thoroughly scouts out the immediate area for a moment, making sure that there are no monsters around.

It’s late into the night, almost midnight, so he hurries up preparing everything - not that there’s much to prepare. But he lights a fire, and he puts down his bedroll, and he tells you to use it. He’ll keep watch, he tells you.

“Is this really okay?” you say in a tired voice.

He nods. “I bet you’re not used to sleeping on the ground.”

“Mmh.” you would argue further, but you’re so tired that you don’t protest, just lay down. It’s not as bad as you thought. He insisted on making sure there were no rocks beneath the bedroll, not even the tiniest thing - smooth ground all the way. You pull the thin covers over you and rest your head on the pillow. You don’t close your eyes yet, however.

He looks at you and smiles. “Sleep well.”

Quickly after, you fall asleep.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s early morning, around four, when you wake again. He’s laying next to you, arms tightly wrapped around you, right hand placed beneath your shirt, on your back. His hand feels surprisingly soft, although some of the callousness you’d expect due to his, uh, living circumstances, is also there. He’s breathing softly, and definitely asleep. His sword and other weapons are placed right next to the bed roll.

You find yourself not knowing how to react. Although this is definitely a bit forward, he did lend you his bedroll, and has been so, so nice to you so far. If not for him… you don’t know how you would’ve gotten along in this world. Probably gobbled up by some monsters. He deserves some rest too…

A voice - his voice - snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Darling…”

You notice that he’s sleeping - breathing as softly and evenly as before, hand still located on your back. Perhaps he is dreaming about his lover? You hope that this isn’t one of those dreams. That’d be really weird. But you guess that even if that’s so - not like that’d be his fault. He can’t help what he’s dreaming about.

“‘M… never… going to let you go,” he continues.

You can’t help but smile a little. Yes, you decide, he’s definitely dreaming about a lover. You wonder if you’ll ever meet them. You fall asleep again.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s later in the morning when you wake up again.

You stretch and yawn. He gives you a friendly nod once he sees that you’re awake and waves at you.

“Good morning!” you say.

He smiles back at you, then turns back to the fireplace. He seems to be grilling the mushrooms he collected yesterday. You smile at the smell and get up from the bedroll.

He’s wearing his armour, and all of his weapons on him. You remember that he did wear his armour in bed with you - you felt the metal on his shoulders pressed against your chest - he must’ve put the weapons back on. It only makes sense, after all.

You can’t help but think of him sleeping next to you… he seems to be unbothered by it. Maybe it’s just a common thing among travellers? You decide to not think anything else of it.

You fold the blanket and the pillow, and roll up the bedroll. You have to bend over to pick up the bedroll, and you feel like he glances over at you for a moment as you do so…

Snap out of it! you tell yourself. He’s probably just making sure that you’re folding it up correctly. Besides, if you’re going with the dream he had earlier, he's already got someone else, so don’t get your hopes up!

You place all the parts of the makeshift bed together. He doesn’t look at you again, but rather, seems to stare at the fire and continue preparing the mushrooms.

You decide that since he’s made sure that the area is safe just last night, some mild exploring might do you some good. The noise of your steps is overshadowed by the cackling fire and muffled by the dampness of the forest floor.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

After a few more minutes of roasting the mushrooms over the fire, he stretches a little and decides to sit down. As he stares into the fire, he reflects on last night. Admittedly, laying down next to you was a bit forward…

But then again. He allowed you to travel with him, although you’re slower, and he allowed you to sleep on his bedroll. And he defended you against the monsters, and he’s making you food right now. He deserves a bit of comfort, doesn’t he?

‘Hopefully, the bedroll will keep her scent for a while.’ he catches himself thinking. ‘If she’s always with me… then I’ll never have to worry about that…’ a part of his mind continues.

He catches himself staring into the flames and entertaining the thought. He imagines you living with him, in a house built by him, near a village of your choosing. He imagines you and him sleeping next to each other, perhaps even more entangled together than last night.

He could make you food. Maybe you could keep horses. He could use his strong arms and knowledge of weapons for something other than fighting. Although… if someone were to get too close to you… He’ll make sure to never forget how to properly handle people like that.

But there’s a certain tranquillity in thinking about how everyday life would be with you.

You and him could design a house together: you said you’d like to stargaze, so obviously, there’d be a large balcony.

It could connect to the bedroom; he imagines a big bed where you can sleep on the proper mattress that you deserve. Next to him, of course. He could build it himself. He knows that he’s rather strong; so, since he wants it to be a place where he can have you all to himself, he’ll need to make sure that the bed is built in a way to be able to keep up with that. And it’ll need a big canopy - a physical thing to keep out the outside world. He’ll get to keep you all to himself there.

And he’ll build you a nice big closet, so that you can keep all the luxurious clothes he’ll buy for you. He wonders what you’d like to wear… He thinks about buying you jewellery. Small amber earrings. A necklace… perhaps one of those tight ones, that would go around your neck. And he’d make sure that you have a ring on, too, just like he will. He wants you to have a closet full of pretty clothes. Maybe you’d ‘steal’ some of his too… you in his tunic… he smiles at the thought. You, in the morning, perhaps still slightly sleepy - quickly getting out of bed, searching for something to wear. Maybe you’d just quickly slip on some of his clothes. You’d sit on a nearby chair and smile at him. And there’d be a big desk for you to paint and craft and write by.

You’d also want a nice bathroom, probably. A really modern one, where you could shower… perhaps with him. And it’d need a bathtub, too!

And he’d make sure to build a strong, big staircase… it could lead right into the living room. He’d like a kitchen area that would connect to the living room… just a big open space. So that he can always watch you. You could cook together, and he’d make all your favourite meals. And he’d make sure that you’d have a big sofa, to cuddle on and hang out on and maybe indulge in other activities there too.

The windows would be big and open, to always let the sun in.

And maybe, if you’d like it, you’d keep horses. He wonders what you’d name yours. He could teach you how to ride… maybe help you catch one. Or maybe you’d only have one horse, and he’d never teach you to ride, so that you’d always have to rely on him to get around. So that he’d always be around you. And you’d sit behind him on his horse, and he’d purposely ride a little faster than you’re used to, and you’d hold onto his waist.

He finds himself smiling. The thought makes him feel warm inside, in a way that he’s not used to. He thinks that you must be feeling hungry, so he picks up one of the mushroom skewers from the fireplace. He turns around to face you. His smile falls. You’re not there.

i swear if i was isekai-d (?) to hyrule i’d be killed for blasphemy in seconds - “lmao weak ass goddess hylia needing a nine year old to fight her battles for h-“ *gets struck down by lightning*

uhhh enough babbling hope you enjoyed ❤️ comments and likes are always appreciated, same as reblogs of course!! master list is here :)

18+ short fic abt link warming your strap is here if that suits your fancy hehe

[the-kr8tor]

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.

My Masterlist

Inspired by this post

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb. 

"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror. 

You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.

He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt. 

"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.

"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey" 

"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin. 

You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.

"It's genetics, all natural, baby" 

"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.

"No, it's not" 

"Yes, it is" you step forward.

"Nuh uh" 

"Yea uh" 

You stare at each other for a second.

"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you. 

"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers. 

"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you, 

You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?

Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–

Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?" 

"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand. 

"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you" 

"I was actually thinking about your houseboat" 

"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action. 

Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.

"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.

"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.

"Bought it off a bloke"

"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.

"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it" 

"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.

"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.

You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.

Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it" 

"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.

"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.

"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.

"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours" 

"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.

"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.

"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.

Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.

"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.

"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.

"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah" 

"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you" 

"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes. 

"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well" 

"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.

"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way" 

"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.

Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg. 

"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position. 

Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.

You playfully slap his chest.

"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap

In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.

You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.

"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.

He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.

"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.

"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours. 

You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.

"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.

Hobie pulls back breathlessly.

"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.

"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.

"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space. 

"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.

He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe. 

"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.

"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants" 

"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him. 

"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.

Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.

He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you. 

Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.

You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression. 

"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.

You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.

"Really? You're not sea sick?" 

"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.

"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.

"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close. 

"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.

You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his. 

You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.

A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[sharkorok]

“did you drink water?” (enha)

or where enhypen reacts to their idol!s/o passing out

cw/genre: fainting, mostly fluff but reader is hard on themself

requested: yassss :D

a/n: why does it feel like a year since I last posted lolol srry but papa sharkie’s home now

•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-ok so it happened at a music festival you both were attending, n after his performances were done he decided to visit you !!

-you looked pale and he was worried but he understood how both of your careers work, until you missed a step and fell down, slumping on the floor

-he had to fight every single nerve in his body, he wanted to run to you and check on you, he was so nervous :(

-the second you were backstage and no cameras were around he was all over you, he got you water and some snacks from food vendors, laying you down and playing with your hair while some medical staff made sure you’re alright

-kisses you all over and takes ur phone so you can’t look at twitter so you don’t see any posts being mean or u get embarrassed

-he’s so so so comforting and he refuses to leave ur side until staff pries him off

-expect him to visit your hotel and hold you until you fall asleep, esp if u were nauseous !

-ur members gush that he stayed with u the whole night until his manager found him

jay

-awards show rehearsals and stage prep, groups were mingling around the venue, while your’s was getting their mics checked and stuff

-you want to put your full effort in, even if it was just rehearsals and mic checks, especially to impress ur boyfie lol <3

-but you served too hard and you stumbled, falling over as your members rushed to catch you, Jay practically jumping from where he was sitting

-he runs backstage and he’s taking care of u, chilled water bottle and a cold towel around your neck, making sure staff is checking on you and asking every few seconds about what happened exactly

-and if u try to say something? “shhh baby, don’t talk right now.”

-gets so >:[ if you even try to suggest you continuing to perform!

-“jay, I feel better, I can take a ten minute stage.” “nuh-uh.” and ur just like omfg this boy

-so begrudgingly you stay behind during the live performance, and jay promises you that you didn’t let anyone down, your health is the top priority

jake

-nearly exposes your relationship with his reaction (I’m gonna be honest I’m out of scenarios so sorry)

-he practically jumps out of his seat the second you collapse on stage, jay grabbing his wrist and gesturing towards the cameras focused on them

-“I can’t just not see them!” “I know, but staff will take care of y/n. Let’s just wait for attendees to leave.” jay reassured, but jake still wasn’t happy

-he was gripping the seats trying not to run to you immediately

-and the second he can see you again?? he makes sure to ask staff what he can do to help you, and if you’re alright and he’s constantly kissing the back of your hand

-“no baby, don’t get up just yet, wait until we get the clear from staff ok?”

-you’re so EMBARRASSED!! so ur like hiding in his shoulder, trying not to cry

-he’s hyping you up tho and trying to bring some light to the situation like, “wow you performed so well that even ur own body couldn’t handle it babe”

-sneaks into ur company van so he can make sure ur okay on the way home LMAO

sunghoon

-there’s a fancam out there of his reaction to you fainting on stage where you can clearly see him saying “oh shit”

-nervously looking at his members w an evident side eye as if he’s asking if he should pull a k drama moment and run up there to hold you or if he should keep his job

-so so so nervous that it might be something more serious, or you could’ve fallen in a way that got you a head injury, or maybe it just so embarrassed that you’ll faint again once u wake up who knows

-my king of overthinking

-but doesn’t want to worry you or make it a big deal because he understands how that can make someone feel worse LMAO

-“omg y/n you fainted?? I didn’t even notice ong you’re so professional babe 😍😍”

-doesn’t really know how to help you so he’s awkwardly standing around staff while offering the occasional “whooo you can do it y/n!!” tryna be supportive 💀

-once ur better he feels more comfortable taking you out for some comfort food and supplies a ton of kisses

sunoo

-ok this has been on my mind the entire time while I was writing this but he’d def argue w people online if “lazy” or “unprofessional” accusations started popping up

-he probably already has a fan acc he uses to stalk posts pertaining him or you, n he’s pressed when he sees a tabloid accusing you of being lazy

-you come home after a quick check up to see him furiously typing on the couch b4 he looks up to you and gets all smiley again

-so so so supportive and also distracts you from the situation so you don’t have to think about it :>

-“shhh don’t look at Twitter let’s just watch this cute little show together ok? :)”

-keeps an extra close eye on ur Twitter feed for the next few days

-and an even closer eye on ur health! switches out any dietary supplements u take for multivitamins n fights w staff if they try to continue a restrictive diet on you

-ensures you’ll never faint again to the best of his ability

jungwon

-literally the second u woke up it was “did you drink enough water today??”

-you thought u died and ascended to heaven and you were looking at an angel but it was just jungwon worriedly staring at you

-doesn’t want to seem immature by hounding staff to ask questions, but truthfully, he wants to grab them by the shoulders and freak out

-but he wants to be strong for u!! and so he grabs you the best water bottle, some snacks for your blood sugar, and a fan in order to help you recover

-is so comforting about it, reassures you that this is going to happen to basically every idol, he’s so sweet I’m going to cry.

-sends a bouquet to the dorms later on with a “hope you feel better!” card T^T

niki

-he’s so worried about you but he could tell with the recent dating rumors between you two he has to stay as calm as possible, in case fans were trying to film his reaction

-another idol tried to invite him to the after party but he’s nowhere to be found, practically sprinting backstage to check on you

-“babe omg u literally fell for me…” <- the first thing he says upon seeing you -_- lolol

-doesn’t really know how to act in front of management and staff, so once you two are in a more private space he’s all over you

-checking your temp, elevating your head, googling how to help someone recovery from fainting LMAO

-“trust I’ll report every single fancam I see” <- him if u say ur embarrassed about passing out on stage

-sweet boy flies off of the couch you’re laying on the second ur manager comes in tho lol, expect him to visit later tonight to properly make sure ur ok! <3

[gummydummy19]

Hi Gummy👀❤️

um, because of the post you said about just now......

Thinking about Prof!Sherlock Holmes celebrate with you that your exams are over.

Correction: you sneak in his office with a bottle of champagne and wearing the lingerie he gifted to you a few weeks ago... He was very confused at the beginning(

Well, you did celebrate TOGETHER after all.👀😋

Gaahh I would love to celebrate with him! 🥳🫠 Thank you for the ask, jammie! Im very sorry this took so incredibly long and that its a bit shit maybe lol, I hope you still kinda like it :)

His best student

Content Warnings: smut, age gap (not specifically mentioned), college student/college professor relationships (abuse of power, just to be sure), pet names (little one, Sir, baby), smidge of angst for some reason

A/N: This story is a fantasy and purely fictional. I do not condone student/teacher relationships or abuse of power in real life. Since this is pure fiction, everything is consensual. (because it's my fantasy and I fucking wrote it that way)

Word Count: 1.9k +

He was busy grading papers, the usual frown on his face, not even looking up at you as you entered his office...

You eyed him hungrily as you locked the door behind you. "Do you know what day it is today?" you asked in a sultry voice, hoping to get his attention.

You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, ever since he gifted you that black, lacy lingerie set a few days before your first exam. He'd had it delivered, knowing if he'd handed it to you himself neither of you would be able to wait. The box contained a note, written in Sherlock's beautiful handwriting, as per usual.

"A little gift to get you in the mood. I hope it motivates you, my dear. I expect straight A's from my best student x"

You had never been so excited to study. With your new-found motivation, you propped yourself at your desk, which is where you stayed for weeks. Focused and dedicated.

You hadn't touched yourself once in the past few weeks. Partly because you wanted to stay focussed, but also because you simply didn't have the time. You were so exhausted and mentally drained from studying all day, your back and shoulders were sore from sitting hunched over your desk for hours. When you finally got to bed at night you were so tired you almost immediately fell asleep.

And now the wait was finally over. All your hard work had paid off, straight A's across the board. You were proud of yourself, proud and incredibly horny, ready to collect your reward.

"Uhh...Friday?" Sherlock answered mindlessly, his eyes still glued to the red ink he scribbled across the paper.

You rolled your eyes before clearing your throat, hoping to finally get him to look up at you.

His eyes found yours, they were filled with confusion and a tiny bit of aggravation...until you let your coat fall open. The beautiful black set was revealed and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

"Yeah," you spoke, "it's Friday"

A smirk tugged at his plushy lips, 'it's Friday", he repeated as the realization dawned on him.

"Hmm." you nodded, dropping your coat on the floor with a smile.

You took a few slow steps towards him, never once breaking eye contact.

"Passed all my exams, straight A's just like you wanted Mr. Holmes", you spoke innocently.

"Is that so?" he smirked, leaning back in his chair, his knees falling wider open.

"Uh uh", you nodded coyly, chewing your finger.

You took a few steps closer to him, keeping your eyes glued to his. You debated crawling into his lap and kissing him silly, but took a seat on his desk instead. "So I think I deserve my reward now, don't you?"

He was trying to contain himself a little longer, trying not to show how much of an effect you had on him. But the glimmer in his eyes told you enough. You couldn't help but smile at him. A warm genuine smile that told him how much you adored him and how badly you'd missed him.

He couldn't hold back the grin that broke free on his face and he stood up. Wasting no time before grabbing your face and crashing his lips to yours. The kiss was full of heat and passion. Your hands tangled in his beautiful brown curls before trailing down his neck and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. It took every fiber in your being not to rip the fabric off him, but you decided to behave. You the last thing you needed was a punishment when you came here for a reward.

Luckily he noticed what you were doing quite quickly, and since there was not much left for you to take off, he decided to help you.

"Fuck...I missed you, little one", he mumbled against your mouth as he undid the final button on his shirt.

"Hmm...missed you too, Sir...so much", you sighed back, your hands sliding over his shoulders, under the fabric of his shirt, making it drop on the floor while your fingers tangled in his hair again pulling him in for another kiss.

The kiss became more heated, more impatient, and you felt yourself starting to buck against the front of his trousers. The growing bulge pressed perfectly against the thin fabric of your panties. The panties that were slowly but surely starting to get very sticky and damp...

He pulled his lips away from yours, only to trail kissed from your jaw to your neck, groaning into your nape once he got there. His large hands trailed up and down your waist, squeezing at your flesh wherever he could.

You wriggled your hands between your bodies, your fingers eagerly searching for the buckle of his belt.

“Need you now…right now…”, you whined as you pulled his belt from his pants, your desperation made him chuckle.

“Hmmm…my perfect pretty princess…”, his voice was low has his fingers trailed down your jaw. Your breath hitched when his hand made its way down your throat, you expected him to stop there, to squeeze it as punishment for being so impatient…but he didn’t.

His hand moved down a little bit further until he pressed his palm flat, right in the middle of your chest. You were sure he felt your heartbeat thumping.

“Lay back for me”, he commanded. His tone combined with the slight press of his hand left little room for arguing, so you did what he asked.

Your back his the cold wood of his desk and you stared up at him. He held your gaze while his hands moved to caress your legs, starting at your knees, up to your thighs and back to your knees, where he held a firm grip to keep your legs spread (as if you needed any help with that?)

You enjoyed every second of it, every single touch, every look…but you needed more.

“Please Sir…”, you whined, “haven’t I been a good girl?”

He once again chuckled at your shameless display of pure desperation. “Don’t frown like that little one, you’ll get wrinkles”

“Then don’t give me a reason to frown.”

Your inner brat was starting to show and you hated it. Not that you didn’t love your bratty side, because you absolutely did, but today it meant that he was winning and you had worked too hard to let that happen.

He was staring down at you with his usual raised eyebrow. “Come on, Mr. Holmes..please?", you tried, your foot inching up his waist until your toes touched the now massive bulge in his trousers. You moved methodically, creating a friction you knew he craved.

"Behave", his voice was stern, no doubt a cover-up for his neediness, but stern nonetheless. You ignored it, continuing your movements shamelessly until he growled. "Enough!"

In a matter of seconds had pushed your legs open again and he was on you. Your wrists pinned to the oak desk just like the rest of you. "I told you to behave, little one."

"Why? When I do you give me nothing", you argued, staring him dead in the eye. "I came here for a reward, but if you insist on punishing me go ahead. Either way, I refuse to leave here empty-handed. I worked my ass off for the past few weeks, haven't even touched myself once. I kept my focus, I got perfect grades, and now I wanna cum. I deserve to cum."

You had never spoken to him that way. Ever.

The two of you looked at each other in silence. His hands still had a firm grip on your wrists and the look in his eyes gave little away. For a split second, you worried you had gone too far. He was still your professor after all, and by far the most intelligent and respected man you'd ever met.

You were simply a young girl who happened to be in his class and sucked his cock the way he liked it. You were nobody. And yet here you were, sprawled on his desk demanding orgasms.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?"

His deep voice broke through the silence and with that also through your thoughts. "Huh?" you managed to get out.

He grinned down at you, but different than before. Less devilish, more pure. "You're right, you worked incredibly hard...and you deserve a reward..."

He dipped his head down, his curls brushing your face as he pressed kisses against your neck and shoulder.

The second you felt his warm lips press loving kisses on your skin your eyes fluttered shut. A relaxed sigh left your lips as you basked in his touch.

“Such a good girl…such a…an amazing woman you…”, he panted out his praises while kissing his way down your body.

You moaned when you felt his warm lips press against your core through your panties, he kissed and licked until he could taste you through the fabric, leaving it even more soaked than it already was.

“Fuck sir…” your fingers tangled in his curls again when he pulled your panties to the side and finally ran his tongue through your sopping wet folds.

He ate you out with vigour, humming and groaning into your pussy like a man possessed.

It wasn’t long before your thighs squeezed around his head and you shook with pleasure, letting out one final loud moan as your orgasm rushed through you.

“Fuck…” you giggled while staring at the ceiling, you swore you saw a couple stars fly around.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed a few more kisses on your inner thighs.

“C’mere…” your hands grabbed at him again, this time he didn’t even try to refuse. His large body stretched over you and his hands found the sides of your face.

You both smiled into the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue was always such a turn on. You tasted great together, every time.

It wasn’t long before hunger consumed you again, and you could tell even though he just ate…he was still starving.

Your legs locked around his waist and you bucked your hips up into his bulge, whimpering a little from the overstimulation.

He didn’t need to be told what to do. He grinned as he leaned up. Never breaking eye contact with you while he lowered his pants and boxers, allowing his thick cock to spring free.

“My sweet girl….”, was all he said before slowly…ever so slowly…pushing inside of you.

He dropped down close to you, one hand on your hip, using it as leverage while he pumped in and out of you.

The other one right next to your face, keeping him from leaning his full body weight on you…not that you would complain…

“Fuck…s-sir…” your voice was barely above a whisper given that his nose was practically touching yours.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, “call me by my name…please”.

You moaned and he slowly picked up the pace, “S-sherlock…Sherlock! Oh god, Sherlock”, you pulled at his hair as he fucked you passionately on his desk, fucking you deeper and harder each time you screamed his name.

“Yeah fuck…that’s it princess…shit”, he angled his hips while his hand slid down between your bodies, “cum for me baby…cum on my cock while I pump you full…can’t hold it much longer sweetheart, you feel so fucking good, fuck” his almost whiny tone and desperate look melted you to your core, and so you did what he asked, you came on his cock, hard.

“SHERLOCK! please please please….”, your walls squeezed him tightly and with one final thrust and a guttural groan he came inside you.

Sweaty foreheads and plump lips bumped against each other as you rode out the highs of your orgasms together.

“I love you…I love you”, he spoke quietly after a few beats of silence.

Once to himself, and once to you.

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[redrose10]

I might post another Christmas themed story before Christmas, but we’ll see if I’m able to get that one done…

Thank you for this request and I hope you like it!

< A Christmas Miracle >

Yoongi X Female Reader, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slightly suggestive, very minor hint to cheating, drunkenness, fighting

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

“Why is it so cold?”, Yoongi grumbled after a midnight bathroom break as he hurriedly made his way back to his bed to get underneath the warm comfy blankets. As he laid there trying to fall back asleep he saw a soft glow begin to light up his room. He blinked a few times to clear his vision wondering what it could be. Out of his closet where the light was the brightest walked two very familiar faces. Yoongi sat up startled yet a little angry, also concerned. “Jin? Hobi? What the hell were you two doing in my closet?”, he asked.

The two men walked forward coming out of the light which quickly dissipated sending the room back into a familiar darkness. Jin cleared his throat, “Yoongi, we are the Ghosts of Christmas Past.”

Yoongi sat and stared at them in stunned and annoyed silence. He was really wishing he had stuck to tea instead of whiskey during dinner. “You guys…it’s like one o’clock in the morning. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, but for now you can crash in the guest room if you want.”, he finally mumbled after a while.

“We’re here to show you something.”, Hobi smiled reaching for his hand. “No thanks. Uh exactly how much did you guys drink?”, he worriedly asked.

“Ahh we didn’t drink at all. Let’s hurry up. We don’t have all night.”, Jin exclaimed before snapping his fingers. Yoongi didn’t have time to react before he along with his two friends were instantly transported elsewhere.

“Do you recognize this place?”, Hobi asked.

“W-what just happened!? How did you two do that?”, Yoongi asked exasperated and frantically looking around.

“Aish pay attention!”, Jin bounded with a hand firmly placed on Yoongi’s shoulder, “Yoongi take a look around. What do you notice?”

Yoongi took a deep breath before scanning the room, “This is my studio. Why are we here?” Hobi pointed to the other side of the room where a young Yoongi stood talking to his manager and a woman that he instantly recognized.

“Am I dead? Oh my god I died?”, he panicked looking at both Jin and Hobi, “Did you die too? That’s why you’re ghosts? What happened?”

“Yoongi no one died so relax. We’re just here to remind you of your past. We brought you back to a moment of great meaning to you.”, Hobi said trying his best to calm down his friend.

“This is the moment you met Y/N, right?”, Jin asked. Yoongi nodded and Jin continued, “So this must’ve been a real happy point in your life.”

“Well she is my best friend so yeah I guess this moment was pretty special. Can’t she see us?”, he asked waving his hands back and forth.

Hobi and Jin both shook their heads, “Nope no one can see or hear us other than ourselves.”

“Great… now I really know I’m dead.”, he groaned earning quite the eye roll from Jin who replied, “I’m going to ignore your constant complaining… for now. Just watch the show.”

Yoongi shrugged as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

It was many years ago, about eight or so now when you were first introduced to each other. You had just gotten hired as an intern producer. It was Christmas morning and since you were new to the city and had no one to spend it with you offered to work and since he was the only one at the studio working he was assigned to let you shadow him for a while. In all honesty the last thing he wanted was to have to spend time with someone else. There was a reason he was working alone on Christmas morning to begin with. He had just gotten his heart broken. He was hurt and upset and angry. But he was a professional so he pushed all that aside and welcomed you into the studio. You had a lyric book with you which you happily shared with him. The first song he read through was a love song…”of course”, he groaned.

Yoongi slammed the book closed and tossed it aside, “Love doesn’t exist. Love is only a figment of peoples imaginations. They use it to make themselves feel better…like they have a purpose in life.” He knew he was being harsh, but he wanted to save you from experiencing the same heartbreak he was going through. “So you’re saying you won’t ever fall in love?”, you asked with a hint of playfulness to your voice. “Nope. Never. Not gonna happen.”, he said shaking his head, “I don’t believe in love.”

You nodded along with a smirk, “We’ll see about that Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi stood off to the side with his two friends watching this replay happen. At the time he never noticed the twinkle in your eye or the smirk or the way you made it sound like a challenge. If he had noticed any of that then he never would have let the relationship go as far as it did. You never would have become anything but a coworker to him.

He jumped a little when he felt someone grab smack him on the back. Hobi was smiling at him, “Come on. We have one more place to go.”

“I really hope it’s the bar because I’m gonna need a drink or two to get through this.”, he replied earning another big eye roll from his senior member. With a snap of Jin’s fingers they were gone in a flash once again.

“Look familiar?”, Jin asked while everyone looked around the room. “Y-yeah this is Y/N’s living room.”, Yoongi said, “Why are we here?”

Before anyone could answer the door swung open and a past version of himself and you came tumbling in. It took a moment, but he remembered that night instantly.

“H-hold on.”, you mumbled against his skin. Quickly you skipped over to the Christmas tree in the corner and plugged it in. The glow of the multi colored lights softly lit up the room. Yoongi chuckled at your cuteness. “What? It’s Christmas!”, you smiled after noticing him staring at you.

It didn’t take long for you to have him pinned down on the couch with your hips grinding and searching for any kind of release. “Are you sure you want to do this?”, he asked in between kisses. You nodded your head while reaching for his belt, but he stopped you, “Seriously Y/N, before we go any further, I need to know that you understand that this is nothing more than friends having sex. I’m not looking for any more of a relationship than that.”

“So you’re saying you won’t fall madly in love with me Yoongi?”, you playfully questioned with a smile.

“No Y/N, I told you, I don’t believe in love.”, he responded making your smile falter just a little. “If you don’t want to keep going I understand.”, he continued, but you stopped him with a kiss and pulled him in closer than before.

That was a few years after you two had met and the first time you guys had sex and it was the beginning of your friends with benefits relationship. To this day that is all it remained. Yoongi cringed at how cold he sounded in that moment, he’d blame it on having most of his blood flowing to other parts of his body, but he knew the truth. He just didn’t want you to end up getting hurt by him one day.

He stood there and watched you. He took in all of your movements, the sounds you made. The way you said his name in want and desperation. He had always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now, in this position, from an outsiders view you looked ethereal. The way the soft lights iilumited your skin. The way you mumbled praises in between kisses and moans. You were incredible to him.

“Alright that’s enough of that”, Jin exclaimed as soon as clothing started getting removed and tossed around the room. He snapped his fingers and Yoongi was back in his own bedroom.

He flopped back down on his bed taking a long deep breath trying to process the crazy dream he just had and also why the image of your face as he kissed you was suddenly burned into his memory. The way you looked at him with such love and admiration…it made him feel guilty. He had his suspicions from the start that you were looking for more from him than just a friends/friends with benefits relationship and he should have stopped it before it got as far as it did. But he was a weak man when it came to you.

As he was laying there with his eyes squeezed shut trying to force himself to sleep he got the sense that something wasn’t right. It was like he could feel the soft light once again illuminating his room. He took a peak finding two more of his friends, Jimin and Jungkook, standing in his room with big goofy smiles.

“No no NO”, Yoongi shook his head, “I’m not playing this game any more.”

Jimin spoke first, “There’s no game hyung.” Jungook continued, “We are the Ghosts of Christmas Present. We are here to help you see… what could be.”

The two guys snickered between them at the little unintended rhyme.

“Let me guess…you’re going to snap your fingers and transport us somewhere else?”, Yoongi scoffed.

Jimin nodded before joyfully doing the snap sending the three of them through a transport to another location.

Yoongi looked around faintly recognizing the restaurant they were standing in that was now haphazardly decorated for Christmas. He’d been there with you just a few nights ago, but was unsure of why he was here currently.

Then the door chimed and you walked in with your friend, Mia. You two sat at a table off to the side by the large window. Yoongi went to greet you before quickly being reminded that you couldn’t see or hear him.

“Soooo how long until Mr.Dreamy gets here?”, Mia teasingly asked. You rolled your eyes, “His name is Minjun and he should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

“Ooohhhh even his name sounds hot.”, she quipped before noticing your down demeanor, “Y/N why do you look so sad? You’re about to go on a date with a really nice guy….This better not have something to do with Yoongi.”

You sighed as you looked out the window before turning your attention back to Mia, “I don’t know…I just…I feel bad for lying to him and like maybe I should give him another chance.”

Mia scoffed, “Fuck him. Y/N he doesn’t love you. He’s using you for sex. He has made it perfectly clear about that and it’s time that you move on and try to find someone that will love you back and treat you the way that you deserve to be treated. Maybe this Minjun guy could be that person or maybe not, but either way you need to move on from Yoongi because he’s definitely not going to change.”

You nodded because as much as it hurt, a part of you knew she was right. You had spent years trying to get Yoongi to love you back, but it was becoming clear that he was steadfast in his word and had no intention of ever fully letting you become something more to him. Realizing the time Mia stood up and gave you a quick hug, “I love you. Text me as soon as the date is over. I can’t wait to hear all the details.”

Yoongi watched as Mia walked out the door and the seat across from you was replaced by some guy. Some guy that made Yoongi’s blood boil even though he didn’t even know him. He knew he had told you many many times over the years that he was incapable of love so you trying to move on should be of no surprise to him, but for some reason watching you smile and laugh at something stupid that this guy said made his chest ache just a little bit.

“What’s going on in your brain?”, Jimin questioned wearily as he watched Yoongi staring at you.

“Nothing. She’s an adult. She can go on a date with whoever she wants. It doesn’t bother me. She’s her own person. So what if she wants to go on a date with this guy who’s wearing too much chapstick and who the hell orders garlic shrimp on a first date? That’s just asking for a bad first kiss. He’s a moron.” Jimin and Jungkook knew that it did in fact bother him which is why he was rambling to try and convince himself that his own words were true.

“So you don’t feel even a little sad or maybe a bit of regret knowing that she could be yours, but instead she’s out with someone else right now?”, Jungkook asked.

Yoongi shook his head, but still didn’t take his eyes off of you, “Nope. I made it clear that I would never love her and she’s well within her right to try and find someone who will... Plus it’s only one date. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like they’re getting married or something.”

The two smirked knowing that Yoongi was clearly having some feelings he wasn’t admitting, but their hands were tied and it was now up to him to make a move. With a long sigh Jimin snapped his fingers and Yoongi was once again back in the comfort of his bed. His mind reeling with emotions some of which he never felt before. Jealousy being the biggest one. He wasn’t able to take the time to unpack everything though because the light from his closet once again added a soft unnerving glow to the room.

“Come on Namjoon and Taehyung. Let’s get this over with.”, he groaned knowing that these two were about to make things even more difficult for him.

The two did walk out of the closet both laughing at his acceptance of the situation.

“Hyung.”, Taehyung nodded. “I’m guessing you have already figured it out, but we are the Ghosts of Christmas Future.”, Namjoon spoke.

Yoongi stood up and walked over to the members to stand beside them. They looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Come on. Do the finger snap thing.”, he spoke snapping his own fingers in return., “I haven’t got all night.”

Namjoon laughed, but did as requested and the three were sent to the future.

Yoongi looked around the church he was suddenly standing it. It was beautifully decorated in reds and greens and gold. It looked like Christmas. Poinsettias were spread throughout reminding him of you because they were your favorite. Your friend Mia stood at the alter wearing a beautiful floor length dark green dress. That Minjun guy was standing on the other side in a well fitted tuxedo. Yoongi realized he was at a wedding. And that realization made him feel sick.

“No no no.”, he mumbled, “Don’t tell me.”

“Yep, Y/N’s wedding. She gets married on Christmas Day, just like she always wanted. She looks beautiful doesn’t she?”, Taehyung smiled as he pointed towards the double doors. You were walking down the aisle in a breathtaking white gown, similar to the one he had heard you describe as your dream dress countless times.

The wedding was a blur…to Yoongi at all least. He couldn’t take his focus off of the way you smiled. The way your eyes lit up every time your soon to be husband looked at you. Yoongi had seen that same look from you plenty of times, but he chose to ignore them and instead he chose to selfishly close himself off from you, too afraid to let himself experience love.

Then he took a moment to look around the crowd. He saw your parents. He had often had dinner with them. He bonded with your dad over a mutual love of basketball. He remembered the night your dad pulled him aside and told him he would be proud to have him as a son-in-law. Yoongi felt such a sense of pride in hearing that as no one had really ever said anything like that to him before. And there he was, your dad sitting in the front row proudly smiling as he did his best not to cry. Yoongi felt like a failure. Your friends and family were scattered throughout the rest of the crowd. He was surprised by how many of the people in your life he’d grown to know over the years, even getting close to a few of them himself. The one person he didn’t see was himself.

“Sh-she didn’t invite me to her wedding?”, he whispered.

“Ohhh she did.”, Taehyung chuckled, “But you said you would rather stick your dick in a blender than watch her marry some corporate executive ass kissing asshole who cared more about his hair gel than anything else.”

That sounded like something he knew he would say, but he never would’ve said that to you.

“He’s right hyung.”, Namjoon softly whispered, “You guys had a huge blowout when you found out that she was engaged and your relationship never really recovered. Y/N tried several times to reconcile, but you refused.”

Yoongi chuckled to himself, but shook his head, “No I would never treat Y/N like that.”

“You want to see the proof?”, Namjoon asked and before Yoongi could answer he was whisked away to another location, thankfully just missing the part where you kissed your new husband sealing your fate as his wife.

“Prepare yourself. It’s uh it’s hard to watch.”, Taehyung solemnly said.

He was back in your living room. The familiar Christmas tree lit while Christmas carols played from the music box on the counter. Yoongi watched as you opened the door allowing him to stumble in. He managed to catch himself against the wall before looking up at you with a hateful glare. “You.”, he pointed at you taking a few shaky steps, “You’re engaged?”

“I-I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right moment.”, you said taking a few step back to create some space.

“Fucking perfect…where is he?”, he demanded. You stayed silent. “Where the fuck is he?! I want to congratulate him myself. Congratulations on marrying the woman who so easily falls in love. It’s not like he had to work for it.”

Yoongi walked or more so stumbled around the apartment looking for your fiancé while knocking over glasses and a vase before he turned to look at you with a smirk, “He’s not here is he?”

You shook your head,”He had to go into the office.”

“Oh he really loves you Y/N. He loves you so much that he’d rather be at work on Christmas Day than with his fiancé.”, he spat, “I guarantee he’s fucking his secretary right now.”

“Yoongi you’re drunk. Go home. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”, you said as you reached for your phone to call him a cab.

“No, fuck you Y/N. Fuck you for coming into my life. I was perfectly happy before you made it your goal to ruin me. Fuck you for making me feel like love was possible. I was happy being oblivious. Fuck you for ruining everything.”

All it took was a few sniffles from you and the whisper of you calling him the worst thing to ever happen to you for him to sober up enough to realize what he had just said.

“I-I’m sorry Y/N. I have to go.”

He stormed out of your apartment leaving you to cleanup and cry by yourself.

“We told you. It’s hard to watch.”, Namjoon spoke as he snapped his fingers sending them all back to Yoongi’s bedroom.

“I just…I don’t understand. I would never hurt her like that. I…saying those things. That wasn’t me.”

Taehyung placed a hand on his shoulder, “At one time it wasn’t you, but you didn’t make the changes that were necessary and now you’re future is set.” Namjoon and Taehyung left, taking the light with them and leaving Yoongi sitting alone in the dark with his own feelings and thoughts.

He couldn’t take the look of hurt on your face. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being married to anyone else, but him. He hated himself for being the person that he was. He despised himself for being so afraid to love and be loved that he chased away the one person in the world that made him feel things again even when he had the chance to save it, but he threw it all away like a coward.

There were only three times in his life that he did more than cry, that he actually sobbed. Once when his grandmother passed away. The second time was when his group won Artist of the Year. And the third was right now as he sat on the edge of his bed screaming out your name in remorse, in heartbreak with a hand clutched to his chest. He dropped to his knees wishing and hoping for a second chance or a way to change the future that had already been laid out for him.

He buried his face into his hands and cried some more until the exhaustion started giving away to delusion and he heard you saying his name.

“Yoongi”

“Yoongi”

“Yoongs are you okay?”

He shook his head unable to face the fact that you weren’t really there. Then he smelled your vanilla perfume and felt your soft touch gently nudging his shoulder.

“Yoongi wake up.”

Groggily he could barely make out another voice, “Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

“Yoongi get up!! You’re scaring me.”, you said making him jolt awake.

He jumped, out of breath and panting. Frantically he looked around the room. Your Christmas tree was in the corner. The tv was playing your favorite ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ a tradition of the both of yours to watch it on Christmas morning. The lightly burnt Christmas cookies that the two of you made yesterday were sitting on the coffee table in front of him and he was wearing the ridiculous matching Christmas sweater and reindeer antlers you had begged him to put on. But most importantly you were sitting next to him looking him over with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay? You fell asleep and then I think you were dreaming or something. You started crying and shouting my name so I woke you up.”, you said while reaching up to wipe away some of the tears that were still settled on his cheeks.

Feeling irrationally thirsty all of a sudden he took a large gulp of the now cold hot chocolate and continued taking a few more deep breaths. With a shaky hand he ran his fingers through his hair before laughing, “Yeah I just had this crazy nightmare.” You laughed along with him before turning your attention back to the movie. He tried to settle himself down, but couldn’t shake the sense of uneasiness that engulfed him.

Like on cue your phone lit up on the armrest next to you. Yoongi wasn’t one to really pry or care too much about your personal affairs, but in his mind he saw the name Minjun appear and he snapped.

“Let’s make us official. I want you to be my girlfriend.”, he spoke without really thinking.

“W-What?”, you gasped.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I’ve been fighting it all this time. But I can’t risk…I won’t loose you. I want to be together forever. I want you by my side Y/N. I want to travel the world together. I want to get married. I want to have a family with you so we can spend many Christmas’ together wearing matching pajamas and watching silly movies. I want to grow old together being happy and being in love because you have shown me that love is real. Love is amazing. Love is comforting and special and everything I want because of and with you.” He scooted a little bit closer so he could take your hands in his, “Y/N I’m an idiot. I was so afraid of getting hurt, but I now know that the worst pain I could ever feel would be if I let you get away and I’m not going to let that happen. I love you and I want us to be together.”

Yoongi tightly gripped onto your hands trying to ground himself. When he looked up at you he wasn’t prepared to see you smirking at him.

“Well I’ll be…It’s a Christmas miracle. THE Min Yoongi falling in love. I never thought it would happen.”, you said making him grumble something unintelligible in return but his cheeks turned a bright red so you knew he was flustered.

“But…”, you continued, “I am thankful for miracles because I love you too Yoongi.”

He broke out into a big gummy smile feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders.

He gave you a kiss and tucked you in next to him reveling in the feeling of you being so close and snuggling into his side while the next movie played on.

“Hey Yoongi…”, you said after a while.

“Mmhm?”

“I told you so.”

You squealed as he quickly had you turned around and pinned underneath him in a fit of giggles and laughter before peppering you with kiss after kiss making it the best Christmas either of you have ever had.

[akirathedramaqueen]

Stolas: A Gradual Descent to the Bottom of the Bottle

This post analyzes Stolas's situation with alcohol and discusses whether the show effectively represents this systemic issue, and what it implies about real life.

The take is certainly not unique, but I decided to post it anyway to spread awareness about how subtle, seemingly harmless, occasional drinking can seamlessly turn into a full-blown addiction over time.

TW: substance abuse, addiction, alcoholism

Is Stolas an alcoholic?

The answer seems obvious at first. You look at him—all posh, intelligent, and articulate—and you might think, "He doesn’t look like one." You won’t find him, Satan forbid, somewhere under a porch, or truly dependent on the bottle, like drinking during the day—or not absinthe, anyway.

Sure, he drinks sometimes, but it’s fine . . . right? Everyone drinks sometimes. Everyone deserves to feel a bit happier after something bad happens once.

Or twice.

Or thrice . . .

. . . Oh.

Not so obvious anymore, eh?

The real issue here is that the answer is kind of between 'yes' and 'no.' My TL;DR is that the show makes it pretty clear his drinking is becoming problematic, but it’s not quite there yet. And it will become alcoholism soon enough if nothing changes.

I think what we see happening to Stolas right now is an excellent, textbook example of how people end up there. So let’s get into his head, explore where he stands, and what it means for us and for him.

It starts easy

It doesn’t happen in one day. It's not like you get up early one especially glum morning and decide, "Hey, that's a good day to ruin my life!"

It's a vulnerability that makes you susceptible to drinking. Constant pressure. Anxiety. Depression. Trauma.

And you might find yourself wanting to do everything, anything, to get it out of your brain. Not think about it for one evening. Forget.

What a pathetic fucking man!

Her attacking you, whether physically, verbally, in public or private. You, having no one to turn to, having no way to mend it, having to keep up appearances for your kid.

We all have bad days. Bad situations. It’s not to say that one wild night is inevitably going to turn you into an alcoholic. But when you allow the bottle to be your crutch for life, when it becomes a habit to avoid uncomfortable, traumatic events, then . . .

Then it turns into a coping mechanism

You know, it’s . . . it’s simpler. It’s comfortable. Soothing.

You can’t kick her out of the house. You can’t make the man you love love you back. You can’t get a support network because she ostracized you from royal social circles and made a laughing stock out of you.

But you can forget. Forget that one excruciatingly humiliating night. Where not only was all your dirty laundry thrown out on the dance floor for everyone to see, but also, that said romantic interest made it clear it’s only about sex.

You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn't give it up so you and him could get it up

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time.

Forget well enough to fall asleep drunk on the floor among the only living beings who didn't run from you yet. Maybe only just because they are in pots and don't have legs.

And it spirals out of control

Things get gradually worse. Your only lifeline—your . . . uh, romantic interest and daughter—fall out of reach. He finds every reason to avoid you. She hasn't visited you since that LA incident.

Your only power move with a divorce request turns into a lengthy, exhausting proceeding and leads to an assassination attempt. Your—what are you even anymore?—romantic interest pretty much ignores your distress call, or so you think.

You go with a showdown. You can't stand the ambiguity anymore. You want to know whether there's something behind your transactional thing. It's either 'yes' or 'no,' and . . .

It doesn't end too well.

Lastly, you go to a party to try to unwind (or at least be polite, because it's rude to ignore invitations). But your ex's (???) ex acts cruelly, and you don't feel comfortable there. And the wound is still fresh, bleeding . . .

Fuck it, the absinthe won't cut it. Beelzejuice it is then.

And here we are, back to our starting question

Stolas wears a functional alcoholism guise. Or dangerously close to it. Because that's what I believe is going on.

He is still a functional member of society, but he is shown not being capable of processing his trauma without the bottle in hand. And, as things get worse for him, we see the bottle or the glass or any other alcohol container more often on the screen.

For now, he's hanging on, but it's just a matter of a flip switch—the moment when every second of his life will start to feel unbearable without alcohol, simply because there are no other ways to cope.

It's worth noting, though, that Stolas isn't the only character depicted struggling with the urge to drink away his problems.

The most obvious example is Verosika, who is a severe case of alcoholism. We won't delve deep into her character since I want to focus on gradual decline rather than the end result, but we rarely see her without a bottle. There are a couple of scenes where she doesn't hold one, but these moments are situational. She's also been to rehab at least once and only got out because of her reputation.

But there is another character I'd like to dissect, because this will answer the lingering question, "Is there a way out?"

Blitzø, and why he didn't fall victim to this

We saw Blitzø drinking too, at the Bee’s party. To a rather disturbing degree, actually.

But why does no one say he has an alcohol problem, even though he did use alcohol as a coping mechanism? 

Because Blitzø is an example of how the addiction might be prevented and what ultimately makes a difference, a turning point.

To start off, we first see him not in the bar. We see him at home with a pint of melting ice-cream. Dude sugar-bombed himself to sleep . . . after the already mentioned disastrous date with Stolas at Ozzie's, that is.

And then he gets a call from Loona, who asks to pick her up from the party. He has no plans to stay there whatsoever.

But what changed his mind? Pressure did. 

He was pressured by both Loona and an old acquaintance to stop by. (I stress that no one is wrong for this, by the way—he still had the agency to turn the invitation down.) He reluctantly agreed to one drink . . . which we know how ended.

It's much harder to keep it to just one drink when you're sad and alcohol makes you feel better. Nobody wants to be sad.

But with all that said, Blitzø is extremely resilient. In contrast to Stolas—who is strong in his own way but slipping despite all the privilege, magic, and immortality that Blitzø thinks make him invincible—Blitzø never let that one drinking occasion become a habit.

Because he has a support network. However closed off he is, he has his business to take care of, Loona, and M&M. He has things he likes to do and he has people he cares about.

Stolas has all the money in the world, but no friends or activities he could look forward to. He doesn't seem happy with his royal life at all, referring to himself as an owl in a gilded cage.

So the difference is, essentially, this: Blitzø has alternatives and doesn't see alcohol as an outlet. There is a wonderful post from @warblogs17282 which has similar points I make, but also, it shows another angle of Blitzø's relationship with alcohol—his, unfortunately, long history with addiction in family. So that contributes, too.

Is Stolas a lost cause?

Gods, no. But it’s definitely a problem by this point. 

Is he an active alcoholic? Maybe not yet. He isn't Verosika yet. But he is getting there, which I think is the point the show makes.

Alcohol might be a one-time patch on especially rough days, and you might wake up the next day strong and aware enough not to make a habit of it. But the problem is, Stolas already has a habit, and he doesn't have anything to replace it. 

To solve it, he needs just that—a replacement for the bottle. Someone who cares. My hope is that one particular red lizard will share his pint of ice cream and his love. And maybe then, grim days won't be as grim anymore, even when the absinthe stays in the store, or wherever these royals get their alcohol.

Closing note. Why it’s important to talk about this in real life context

Warning: Extreme TMI

I had an alcoholic in the family, and this topic triggers me because, for him, it also started as "no biggie."

He was still functional for years, coming to work regularly. But he was slipping. He drank more, skipped work, and eventually became unbearable for his family—my family, even if not immediate. His wife requested a divorce. He got isolated. He drank even more. Eventually, he got fired because it's not appropriate for a director to skip work and reek of ethanol. The smell was so strong that people couldn't be in the same room with him. He tried other jobs. He aced interviews thanks to 30 years of experience and a solid background. But he got fired again because he couldn't live up to his legacy anymore. At the end, he descended into what you would call full-blown alcoholism.

So, you followed his story, and my question is: Did it start here, when he couldn't help it anymore? Or did it start a couple of years before that, when alcohol became too comfortable as an outlet for struggles?

I've had rough months too—with the war in Ukraine and everything happening with my family—when I realized it became comfortable for me to drink my problems away. Because it works. Because it’s pleasant not to deal with anything, to force your brain to shut up and be happy for one evening.

And it's terrifying to realize I had (thankfully, I don't have anymore for a long time by now) those patterns of thinking: "Jeez, I just want to drink and forget this happened."

Because I saw where it leads. And the farther you go, the harder it becomes to say 'no.'

So please, pay attention to the ones you care about. Pay attention to yourself.

[mattnickchrisfan]

Best Friends Brother - Matthew Sturniolo

summary: you’re best friends with nick but there’s something about his brother, matt, you just can’t resist…

warnings: pure smut, fluff, oral f!receiving, fingering, hickies, making out, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love, princess), slow burn (2.1k words before they get it onnnnnn), cliffhanger??

a/n: heyyyyy everyone!!! my name is layla and this is my first fanfic!!! i'm still really new to posting (but definitely not new to tumblr 😏) so bare with me as i try to get used to my writing skills. also pleaseeee message me if you have ANY requests im so open to requests as i usually dont know what the fuck to write about so i would love to make you guys happy with writing what you’re wanting. i lowkey had so much fun writing this so i really hope you guys like it. anyways enough yapping. lets get freaky!!!

w.c: 3.2k

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You couldn’t help it. 

Everytime you try to brush it off, that feeling, it just keeps lingering in the air. 

But no one knew what’s going on in your dirty mind….so it was okay right?

Right?

“Ughhh I’m so tired, I barely got any sleep last night.” You plop down onto Nick’s white couch. Nick invited you over to hang out with him for the day and spend the night at his house.

“Same! Matt and Chris hopped on Fortnite at like 2am and I couldn’t fall back asleep. Those assholes,” Nick opens a Dr. Pepper and takes a big sip.

You’d been best friends with Nick for as long as you can remember. Ever since freshman year of high school. You guys just clicked. That’s it. It just felt right. You guys became even closer after you were the first person he came out to. You guys had some ups and downs throughout high school but you eventually made up and became besties again. 

Nick’s brothers were a different story. Chris and Matt. They were triplet brothers so of course they were inseparable. They automatically became your friends too. Chris always felt like a younger brother to you. Always yelling, screaming, burping, doing anything to annoy you. Sure, you thought that Chris was a little hot but your relationship was strictly platonic. 

“Where’s Matt and Chris?” You ask Nick.

 “Probably still sleeping since they went to bed so late last night.” Nick rolls his eyes. 

Just as he does so, you hear a bedroom door open with a creek. You immediately know from the footsteps who was about to walk in the room. 

There it was. That feeling. You’ve had crushes on guys before that make you feel a certain way when they walk by you or look at you, but, he made you feel something different.

Matt. Matthew Sturniolo. Your best friend's brother. 

As you guessed it, Matt walks into the living room and greets Nick. He then stops in his tracks and looks straight at you. 

Goddamn those blue eyes. 

“Hey y/n,” he mutters. Your heart flutters as your stomach does a backflip. Act cool. “Uh- he- hey Matt!” you stutter. 

Fuck! What happened to acting cool? 

Nick side eyes you. “You good, y/n?” 

Shit. “Uh-ye-yeah, I’m good.” Nick laughs, “Why are you blushing? You weirdo.” 

“I’m not!! Um- I mean, I’m not. I’m just…it’s hot in here. I need some air.” You quickly get up off the couch and run downstairs to open the door. You start to take deep breaths. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You say out loud. All of a sudden you hear a car door unlock in front of you. 

Matt’s car. 

You whip your head around to see Matt standing right infront of you with his keys in his hand.

“Wanna come for a drive with me?” Matt asks, taking a second to soak you in, looking at you up and down. 

You look down, trying to hide your red face as much as possible. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’m down.” Matt smiles, “Good.” 

That one word made you feel the need to clench your legs together. Putting the thought away, you make your way to the passenger seat of Matt’s car. You buckle your seatbelt and take a breath.

“You okay? You’ve been…kinda off lately.” Matt focuses on pulling out of the driveway but has a slight concerned look written on his face. “Who me?” You stutter. “Yeah I’m fine. I’m honestly just stressed with college and midterms. All that shit.”

You lie to Matt. Your midterms are done. 

The way you’re feeling has nothing to do with school. 

You and Matt drive in silence for a while, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. The windows are down, and the cool air brushes through your hair, but it doesn’t seem to cool the heat building in your chest. Your heart is still racing. You’re still flustered. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, and every time you steal a glance at him, your pulse quickens.

It’s not just the way he looks at you, though. It’s the way he sees you. You’ve been friends for years, but lately, something in the way he acts has shifted. He’s been more aware of you, more present in a way that makes it hard to breathe. The way he holds his gaze a little longer when he speaks to you. The way his shoulder sometimes brushes against yours in the kitchen when you’re both reaching for the same thing. 

Matt isn’t like that with anyone else. 

And it messes with your mind. 

You look at him now, the way his hands grip the steering wheel with ease, his knuckles slightly tense from his grip. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed together in a straight line, as if he’s concentrating on the road. But his eyes flick to you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and you catch him studying you with that intensity. 

You try your best to ignore it, but it just keeps coming back to haunt you. 

You push the thought away and try to stay focused on the road even though you weren’t even driving. A couple minutes later, Matt breaks the semi-awkward silence. “Are you hungry? I have something that I think you might like…”

“What?!” You exclaim. 

Damn your dirty mind.

–––––––––––––––––––

You and Matt get home from the In-N-Out drive thru, burger wrappers and empty soda cups in both of your hands. As you walk up to the front of his house, Matt turns around, opening the door with his back, never breaking eye contact with you as he does so.

Why was that so hot?

He holds the door open for you and you walk inside first. He then follows behind you. “Nick! Chris! I’m home!” He yells. No one responds. “Hello? Nick? Chris?”

They’re not home. It’s gonna be you and Matt alone in his house…

“Oh fuck I forgot Nick has a shoot for Spacecamp and Chris went with him. It’s just gonna be you and me then. Is that okay?”

You try to hide your blushing face from him for the umpteenth time since you first saw him. You wanted to say ‘No Matt. If I’m alone with you, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting you to fuck me right on your kitchen table’. Did you actually say it? 

No. 

‘Y-Yeah of course, it’s fine.”

“Perfect.” Matt smiles at you and you swear you saw him look at your lips before signaling you to walk up the stairs

Could this be it? Could this be the day that you finally tell Matt how you feel? Or even better, could he admit to having feelings for you first? He did look at your lips…right? 

Matt lets you walk up the stairs first, trailing behind you. You can practically feel his eyes on you from behind and it sends a shiver down your spine. You walk towards the white couch you were just sitting on not 2 hours ago. But this time you were alone with Matt, not Nick. You eventually sit down on the couch, Matt making an effort to sit impossibly close to you. 

“You’re not really good at hiding what you’re thinking are you?” Matt says, his lips curling into that familiar smirk. “You look like you’re about to pass out.” You laugh nervously, trying to play it off, but it only makes things worse. You’re both so close, and the space between you feels like it’s shrinking by the second. That teasing smile fades from Matt’s face, replaced by something deeper, something more serious. And that’s when you both realize it: the tension has been building to this moment, and there’s no turning back now.

“Matt…I- there’s something I need to talk to you about-” 

Your words are cut off by Matt slamming his lips onto yours.

After the kiss breaks, Matt pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with the same wild rhythm that matches your pulse. His eyes are dark, filled with something raw, something that makes your stomach flip and your heart race.

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to gather himself, and there’s a brief silence between you two, heavy with all the unspoken things that have been building for so long. The air is thick with desire, but there’s an undeniable tension—an internal conflict brewing beneath the surface.

“God, y/n,” Matt mutters, his voice low and strained. “I’ve wanted that for so long. I can’t believe I’m finally—” He cuts himself off, and when he looks at you again, his gaze is both intense and vulnerable. “I’ve tried to push it away. I’ve tried to pretend like I didn’t feel this way. But every time I see you, it just—God, it kills me.”

You swallow hard, the weight of his words sinking into you. 

He feels the same. He’s thinking the exact same thing that you’ve been dreaming about for God knows how long.

The kiss has left you breathless, but now there’s a different kind of tightness in your chest. You want more. You need more. But you can’t ignore the voice of reason that’s still whispering in your mind, warning you of the consequences.

“Matt,” you begin, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm. “This…this isn’t right. We can’t just do this. What about Nick? He’s your brother. And my best friend.” You don’t know why you were saying this as you were wanting this for just as long as Matt has. 

The mention of his brother seems to hit Matt like a punch to the gut. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s struggling with something deep inside himself. He reaches for your hand, his fingers warm against yours, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion.

“I know,” he breathes, shaking his head slightly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “I know this isn’t right, y/n. I know I should be thinking about Nick. I am thinking about him. But every time I’m around you… it’s like I can’t think about anything else. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I just… I can’t pretend anymore.”

You meet his eyes, your heart pounding as his words sink in. I can’t pretend anymore. There’s something in his tone, something raw and honest, that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I want you too,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Matt. But how can we do this? How can I do this knowing it might tear everything apart?”

Matt moves closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “I don’t have an answer,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I don’t know how this is going to work, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way. I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady the storm inside you. You’ve wanted this for so long, but the guilt is suffocating, and the reality of what you’re about to do hits you like a tidal wave.

“We can’t keep doing this behind his back,” you say, your voice shaking. “What happens if he finds out?”

Matt exhales sharply, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But I know that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. I can’t ignore what’s between us anymore.”

You pull back slightly, looking at him, your hands trembling as you rest them on his chest. You want to lean in again, feel his lips against yours again, but the weight of the situation is heavy, too heavy to ignore.

Matt’s hand slides down your arm, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You’re not going to hurt him. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that right now, in this moment, all I can think about is you.”

He leans in again, his lips barely grazing yours. “I don’t care what happens next,” he says softly, his voice a low rasp. “I just know that I need you. And I don’t want to let go of this… of us.”

You can’t deny it any longer. You want him.

“Fuck it.” You smash your lips to his once more, your body needing to taste him again, craving him. At first, it was soft, sweet, gentle. It then turned to a hot and rough kiss, as if you guys were making out to make up for all these years your feelings have been bottled in. He opens his mouth and lets his tongue explore yours, fighting for dominance.

Was it wrong?

Yes.

Did you care?

Fuck no. 

You feel Matt’s hands start to roam your body and you can’t help but feel a sensation starting to tingle down there. Matt groans into your mouth, begging to taste more. You loved the way his lips worked perfectly with yours, soft and pillowy. You make out for what feels like hours before you pull back from the kiss, panting, lips red and swollen. 

“Bedroom. Now” You demand. 

Without saying anything, Matt scoops you up and you straddle your legs around his waist and wrap your hands around his neck, never breaking eye contact. As you guys walk to his bedroom, Matt looks like he could float, lust dancing in his eyes. 

“You don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” He’s lost in your eyes, drunk off your taste. He needed more. 

Matt plops you down onto his bed and you feel his hands start to roam your body. “Matt..” You whisper. “I need you.” You reach the bottom of his shirt and he guides your hands to slowly take it off of him. You run your fingers through his toned abs. “Oh my god, y/n.” You glance at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. His hands continue to explore your body as he starts to kiss your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the sensitive skin, admiring the purple marks he’s claiming you with. 

“Fuck, Matt, your hands feel so good.” 

“Wanna see what else my hands can do?”

Your pussy immediately throbs at his dirty words. You slowly and sensually take your shirt off to reveal your perfectly round tits. Matt might actually pass out from how good you look. His hands find the waistband of your shorts to pull it down, cold air hitting your barely covered core. Matt stares at your lacy blue thong, licking his lips as he admires how your juices glisten in the low light. He pulls your thong to the side, hooking it with his middle finger, muttering about how wet you were for him.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess.”

You practically moan just from his words as he licks your aching centre, finally getting the taste he’s been wanting. You gasp from the sudden warmth of his tongue on you. “You taste so good, my love.” He then latches his lips on your clit and begins to suck lightly.

“Fuck, Matt.” You cry out, your hips starting to jolt. Your hands find his hair as you pull on his messy locks. He moans against your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body. Matt then slides his lanky fingers easily into core, pumping fast as his tongue continues to work magic on your bud. Your eyes roll back in your head when a familiar feeling starts to grow in your stomach as your first orgasm of the night quickly approaches.

“Matt- I’m gonna-”

Just as you speak, the band in your stomach snaps as you cum, profanities mixed with Matt’s name slipping from your mouth. Matt’s cock twitches in his pants, begging to be released as the beautiful sounds you were making was torture, not being able to be inside of you. Matt continues to fuck you with his fingers as he laps up all of your release, wiping his mouth clean. 

He climbs on top of you, attaching his lips to yours, giving you both a break before he fucks your brains out. You taste yourself on his tongue as you moan into his mouth. He begins to mark the other side of your neck with hickies as he whispers into your ear,

“I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me, baby.” 

Yet again, you moan at his words, your pussy still throbbing from the previous orgasm. Matt rushes to take his sweatpants off and his pre-cum stained boxers while you slide your thong down your legs and off of you. You watch as Matt’s cock springs out of his boxers and your jaw drops at his length.

“Holy shit, Matt, if I knew you were packing so much, I would’ve wanted you to fuck me much earlier.”

He scoffs, “When have you ever not wanted me to fuck you, y/n.”

You giggle softly cause you know it’s true. You’ve been dreaming about this since the day you laid eyes on Matt. 

And now it’s finally about to happen.

Your thoughts are interrupted as Matt slams his length into your tight pussy. You scream as Matt bottoms out, thrusting himself in and out of you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. You like the way I’m stretching your pussy out, don’t you, princess?”

Your brain is too fucked out to think of a response other than letting out a pornographic moan. Matt groans with each thrust into you and your vision starts to turn blurry as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching. 

“You take my cock so well, sweetheart.”

Matt’s tip hits your spongy g-spot each time he pulls in and out of your sopping core and that’s all it takes before your legs begin to shake, back starts to arch, and you begin to moan louder.

“Fuck, Matt! So good- I’m close...” You cry out.

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum for me, princess? C’mon. Cum all over this cock.”

Matt feels your pussy tighten around him as your second orgasm hits you like a truck. Matt continues to fuck you through your high, feeling his climax quickly creeping up on him. 

“Shit, gonna cum.” He manages to say before asking the question of the night.

“Where do you want me, baby?” 

“Fill me up Matt. I need you. All of you.”

You feel Matt’s cock twitch as hot ropes of cum shoot inside of you, filling you up, as you wanted. Matt’s groans as he milks himself dry. He plops down beside you, both of you fucked out, panting. 

“That was-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because the sound of the chime indicating that the front door was opening…

There’s no way

“Matt? I’m home!!” 

Nick. He’s home.

You and Matt whip your head towards the open bedroom door as you hear footsteps coming upstairs. 

Shit.

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a/n: yall want a part 2?? OMG WHY WAS THAT SO FUCKING HARD TO WRITE well thats my first fic for yall hope you guys enjoyed!!