#all i can for now though before i have a clearer idea of what to do is — thank you 🤍

[gilverrwrites]

Conjugal Visit

Captain Boomerang/F!Reader, 2.2K words

AN: I can't remember what inspired this, but it's just a cute, fluffy, smutty thing I've been working on between request and uni work.

Plot: Digger is rewarded for saving the entire world with a 1 hour conjugal visit. It's not much, but it will do. Rating: 18+

CWs: None really, its just fluffy smut! Very mild angst, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cunnilingus, woman on top.

Please remember: You are a super star!

He’s been sending you origami unicorns and gibberish-filled letters about his good behaviour for months, but the promised conjugal visit never came, at least not until after he’d saved Metropolis, and, well, the whole world, maybe even the universe from an alien invasion. 

When his figure popped up on the news, you’d know it was him straight away, even despite his zipping around like a bonafide speedster. 

Later, when Lois Lane showed clearer footage, had confirmed it was him your heart had thrum with pride. You’d told anyone who would listen “That’s my man! That’s my Digger, out saving the world!” You’d even texted articles to your family, to prove he wasn’t the layabout felon they’d always complained about. They didn’t need to know that he was part of some kind of suicide mission, only out there because the government considered his criminal(-ly cute) ass expendable. No, as far as you were concerned, he was a hero, who would save the world, and come home to your loving arms when he was done. At least that’s what you told yourself to help you sleep at night. 

The positivity paid off though. When Digger and his teammates had saved the freakin’ world, his leader, Waller had graciously offered him a few years of his impossibly long sentence and a whopping 3 hours with you. It was considerably less than standard but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Digger, however, was. His complaining had reduced his reward time to just one hour, and you were determined to make the most of it. 

As you approach the door, you eyed the various trays shelved next to it. Each one filled with different sizes and brands of condoms, all of which were too small for Digger, and you weren’t allowed to bring your own. Every finger and toe was crossed that the morning-after pill you’d pre-purchased would be enough. 

A straight-faced guard opens the door for you, you thank him as you step inside, disappointed to be the first one here. An ancient off-white plastic analogue clock on the wall loudly counts down each missed second as you wait for him, brushing your hair out with your fingers, sucking your teeth to make sure there are no remnants of breakfast stuck between them. When the door finally opens once more you have your skirt hiked up to your waist as you fiddle with your underwear. It wasn’t the comfiest, but it was Digger's favourite. 

Your efforts don’t go unnoticed, your jailbird boyfriend’s eyes are bulging as he takes in your form for the first time in too long. Your heart races as you do the same to him, suddenly feeling both coy and unstable as you examine the way his uniform hangs from his lean body. God you can’t wait to get those off him. 

From the excited look on his face, he was having similar thoughts about your outfit. You release the hem of your skirt, but before the fabric can even flutter back against your skin, Digger has you in his arms, using all his muscle to lift you up high by your thighs, head nuzzled against your stomach as he spins you around. 

“I’ve missed ya so much, you’ve got no idea. I can’t believe you’re really here. The real you, not just your pictures stuck above me bed.” He blurts all the things he’s wanted to say but couldn’t convey until now. “I stare at you every night, been dreamin’ bout this moment.” 

“I missed you too baby. Now kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!” You jiggle your weight until he begins to lower you. 

“Don’t have to tell me.” He chuckles, situating you at hip height, putting your faces in closer proximity, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, as you lock lips with him. He tastes like mouthwash, which was not unwelcome, but strange. Certainly different to the stale beer you were accustomed to. Regardless, Digger didn’t miss a beat, slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you with so much enthusiasm it made you miss him again already. 

The way he smiles into your kiss nearly makes you pull away to giggle. The way his calloused fingers tickle your skin as he snakes a hand up to cup your ass does make you throw your head back and laugh out loud. 

“That tickles! Stop!” 

“Nah, I’ve missed this sound too much.” He doesn’t stop, now deliberately tickling both your hips as you begin weakly hitting his shoulder. “You know what else I’ve missed the sound of?” 

You squeal as he releases you all at once, throwing your body onto the bed.

“That!”

You sit up on the bed, arms crossed as you wait for him to stop laughing at you. The bed itself is old, the springs of the mattress creak under every move, and the comforter is itchy as hell, but it will have to do. 

“I should be mad at you for that, but I’ll forgive you this once 'cause I missed you so much.” Leaning back, you spread your legs, revealing your underwear and offering him a come-hither look. 

He looks like a fox in a henhouse, pointy grin, big eyes, and it makes your pussy tingle with excitement. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Love, but I sure as shit am lucky.” His shirt and trousers are gone before he lands above you. Long fingers lock onto you, clumsily helping you undress until all that’s left is Diggers crew socks. He never takes them off for sex, ‘extra grip for when I’m givin’ it to ya real hard’, so you don’t bother trying to get them off him. 

“Digger, you’re a hero!” You argue between sloppy kisses. “Even if you weren’t, you still deserve good things.” 

“Yeah…” For a moment he looks at you, really looks at you, without the lust or the laughter. It might have felt scrutinising if you thought for a second that he knew what that word meant. “But you loved me before, an’ I really didn't deserve you then.” 

Before you can respond he’s slinking down your body, fingers pushing against your entrance and making you squirm. 

“You’re so wet already, you miss being all filled up by your old man aye? Bet you’ve been feeling so empty. I’m sorry I got me-self locked up. Sorry I left you so high and dry.” He slips one finger in, cupping your pussy, pressing down on your clit with his thumb. He hadn’t always known your body so well, but you’d spent so many nights wrapped up in each other that it was second nature now. 

“Don’t…” you try to speak between deep breaths. “Don’t be sorry, make it up to me.” 

No need to ask twice, in seconds he sucking on your clit and slipping a second finger inside. His crooked nose nestled against your pelvis area, mutton shops scratchy between your thigh as he begins to lap at your core. When he skims your sweet spot at just the right angle you whimper, tugging at his russet hair, which in turn causes him to let out a deep moan that reverberates against you. 

You whine and squirm against the wobbly bed as he continues, the fire in your belly building as duel licking and fucking pushes you closer to the edge. He hits that hot spot inside, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his head. With your orgasm in sight, Digger picks up his pace, slipping in a third finger as he concentrates his efforts on your clit. 

Reflexively, your back arches and your toes curl as your orgasm hits. Your hips roll, searching for more friction and Digger uses his free hand to press on your stomach, holding you in place until you come back down. 

“Ah, crikey. You taste just as sweet as I remember.” He comments as he comes back up, face gleaming with a mix of cum and saliva. “I missed that.” 

Before you can respond he places a wet kiss on your belly button. “An’ I missed this.”

Your sternum. “An’ this.”

“An’ definitely these.” He cups both of your breasts as he lowers himself and begins to rub his face between your cleavage. Green eyes peer up at you full of cheek when you grip his hair and tilt his head to look at you. “What?”

“We're on a time constraint, you wanna spend it all in there?” He purses his lips playfully, looking back and forth between you and your boobs as he pretends to consider the question. 

“I could die happy here.” To emphasise his point, he burrows between them once more before conceding. His cock bobs from side to side as he sits back, shimming his hips. “But we wouldn’t want Digger Jr to miss out on all the fun.” 

“Agreed! Let’s put him to use.” His hips feel pointed in your grip as you grab them, dragging him between your spread legs again. He runs the tip between your lips, teasing your clit and coating himself in your slick. When you feel his head at your entrance, your muscles tighten, trying to draw him in further.

This is the part you’d been craving and dreading. Even when you’d been sleeping together routinely, ‘Jr’ was too big to slide in with ease. The burn of your walls struggling to stretch around him makes your breathing uneven, the lubrication of your earlier climax doing little to ease the process. 

“Hey, hey, relax now, breathe.” Digger coos, leaning in close and cupping your cheek, reminding you that keeping calm is the best way to get through it. You nod, even though your body is in overdrive, you will yourself to relax, steadying your breathing and he gradually works his way into you. “That’s it, Darl’, let me into that tight little snatch.”

“Ew, Digger!” You groan and laugh at his atrocious word choice, but it works. It distracted you enough for him to bottom out. Smugly, he wiggles his bows and his cock at the same time, the motion making you pant and squirm, needing real friction. 

“On your back Harkness.” You order.

“Yes ma'am.” Hands gripping your hips he does the heavy lifting, flipping your bodies until he lays flat on his back, and you hover above him.

Comfortable, you waste no time bouncing on his lap, gripping his shoulders for support as you roll your hips up and down. “Fuck, Digger, that feels so good.”

“Oh yeah.” He agrees between gritted teeth, his hands reaching up to cup your tits, his hips jerking up to meet your thrusts. “This is so much better than jerking off to your photies every night. Nothin’ beats the real thing.” 

The more you rock together, the more he crumbles, face scrunching, hands abruptly grabbing at whatever skin he can reach, no longer just occupied with your breasts. 

“Shit Digger, your dick is the best.” You praise and you can tell from his pink cheeks and rapid movements that he’s on the brink. 

“Fuck. Touch yourself, touch yourself, touch yourself.” He begs, wanting you to cum but too lost to do it himself. You dip your finger between your legs, circling your clit with firm, circular motions, causing tension to quickly coil in your gut, but it's not enough. “Fuck, woman, hurry up and cum.”

“Impatient.” You scold, purposely pumping your body in fast, deep motions to aid Digger's climax.

“Can’t help it.” He whispers quickly, desperately. “You feel too good.” 

He’s a beautiful withering mess beneath you, gleaming under a layer of sweat. All sharp edges and soft freckled skin. Eager to put him out of his misery you press harder at your clit, rubbing as fast as you can muster until you can’t help throwing your head back, panting as you approach your peak, and Digger is right there with you, gripping you with bruising force as he finally lets himself release. Pleasure seeps through your body as you ride out your orgasms together, Digger grunting with every spurt of cum he releases inside of you. 

“Wow.” You pant, as you relax, collapsing onto his Digger's chest. “I missed that.” 

When he’s recovered enough, Digger wraps his arms around you in return, pulling you closer for a deeper hug. “We’ve still got it.”

“Still got it.” You concede. Sex with Digger is always good, but the come down, the cuddling and the pillow talk is comforting. As much as you want to, you can’t fall asleep in his arms, can’t have a thumb war over who has to go get snacks, can’t stay up all night talking about that guy you hate from work, or Digger’s latest heist plans. “I just wish we had more time to talk. I want to hear everything.” 

In sync, both your heads turn. Yours to the clock, Diggers to you. 

“Not much time, is it?” He probes, you know he can only read digital.

“No, just a little under 10 minutes.” Determined not to let your limited time together get you down, and feeling Digger’s cock already growing hard inside you once more, you offer; “Think we can squeeze in another quick?” 

“Don’t need to be quick, don’t care what they do to me.” Digger flips you over, his turn on top. “They’re gonna need one of them giant magnet thingys to pry me off of you, Love.” 

Request Info || Prompts || DC Masterlist || Ko-Fi

#captain boomerang #george harkness #george digger harkness #george digger harness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #smut #ssktjl #gilverrwrites

[ughscara]

i just woke up and first thing i see is my blog finally hitting 100 followers

#( ❀ ) ── standby. #what and how the fuck /lh #i don't know what the hell to do 😭 i didn't even expect i'd hit 100 just a day after mentioning that i am two away #i guess apart from changing my theme for the millionth time‚ posting smth special for the milestone‚ #perhaps making a mini event and simply celebrating the occasion .. there's nothing i have in mind #but my heart is brimming with emotions in comparison to my blank mind so i'll see what i can do with that :) #quite a sudden yet pleasant start. one that ngl gave me a bit of motivation to write or do smth else ( like make an artwork ) #all i can for now though before i have a clearer idea of what to do is — thank you 🤍

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny adopts jason todd #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #alley drunk! danny au #danny: i'm grieving #jason: wanna bet? #that's right jason's this universe's jazz fenton #this universe's danny fenton died and that's why danny can exist here without causing issues #danny: i have adopted a random child #danny: this child is jazz wtf

[moonstruckme]

Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside. 

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain. 

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door. 

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.” 

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it. 

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it. 

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly. 

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.” 

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.” 

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles. 

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.” 

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.” 

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.” 

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.” 

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you. 

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.” 

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.” 

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.” 

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.” 

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.” 

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.” 

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace. 

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.” 

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon. 

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what. 

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” 

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x slytherin!reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #gryffindor x slytherin #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter drabble #james potter scenario #james potter imagine #marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction

[jjunieworld]

spilt milk ⋆｡˚ 🥛 𓂅

part two to the great bake off!! — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: choi soobin x afab!reader (no prns!)

genre: smut, pwp (previous part), some fluff if you squint

synopsis: after a particularly messy competition week in the shop, you and soobin are told to stay after hours to clean the bakery up. with soobin winning the title of the best baker who ever lived, you have an idea of what his prize should be.

warnings: soft dom!soobin & somewhat sub!reader, freshly established relationship, soobin has a big fat dick, slight size kink (can you blame me), unprotected sex (pls wrap it i beg!), fingering, oral (m. receiving), making out, slight exhibitionism(?), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, some praise, use of pet names (baby, darling), slight hair pulling (m.), fingers are in mouths, slight dick training(?), lots of teasing, marking, slight overstimulation, some cockwarming

word count: 4.0k┊part one┊masterlist

a/n: i’m sorry but i’m laughing so hard at the cute ass pictures i chose only for you to look down and see the huge paragraph of warnings lmaoo… anon, this one is for you (and for me), you’re welcome!! this was a blast to write even if it did take me forever ♡

it was the day after soobin was crowned the best baker who ever lived, a monday, and the tensions in the competition were at an all time high. you thought you were competing hard before, but it was nothing compared to the all out war you and soobin we’re having right now.

mrs, choi had left the two of you in charge of the bakery while she ran to get some more ingredients and various other things that the bakery needed. honestly, it really didn’t help your competition. everytime one of you had to take your turn up at the register, you would bring the mess from the back of the bakery with you.

dry ingredients was all over the floor near the register. you and soobin were covered in everything under the sun. when mrs. choi had come back, she almost dropped the bags she was carrying in shock. once the two of you had finished all the orders for the day—which didn’t take you all that long at the pace you both were going—mrs. choi pulled you both aside, scolding you and telling you to stay late to clean up. it’s safe to say she wasn’t that happy, though you had to hold in your laugh when she was scolding soobin and flour kept falling from his hair as he nodded.

now you and soobin were near each other, brooms in hand, trying to get the flour and sugar off the floor and failing miserably. “why is this actually impossible?” you asked aloud as you tried to sweep the flour but it only kept spreading. you sighed in defeat and went to wipe off the counters instead.

“i know, it’s making me almost regret going so hard in the competition today…” soobin trailed. so far, soobin had the most points this week. he was washing a huge pile of dishes and looked like wanted to die because of it. you giggled at him as you picked up discarded dough and threw it in the trash.

at least the two of you weren’t a mess anymore. mrs. choi made the two of you go home and shower before coming back. it was a little weird coming back to the bakery while the sun was just over the horizon. the blinds in front of the windows were pulled down and the open sign was turned to closed. the hanging stars were glowing softly when you came to the back to begin cleaning.

once the bakery was finally clean and you and soobin were putting the cleaning supplies away, he suddenly asked, “what’s my prize?” you turned to him, a confused look on your face as you put away the broom. soobin was leaning back on the counter next to the register, a slight pout on his lips.

“what do i get for being crowned the best baker who ever lived?” he asked, his question clearer. there was a hint of a teasing smirk on his face, which you rolled your eyes slightly to. then a thought occurred to you, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. you strolled to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

you hummed softly. “i’m thinking something soft…” you trailed as you look up at him through hooded eyes. “something warm…” you trailed your fingers down soobin’s chest slowly, continuing until you were a couple of inches above the waistband of his sweatpants. soobin’s eyes followed the motion. your eyes flickered up to him to see he was watching your hand intently, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“something you can fill…” you leaned in to say lowly as you looked into his eyes. you felt something hard against your thigh as soobin’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist. you brought your lips inches from his ear. “would you like that?” you whispered seductively, breath fanning lightly on his neck. goosebumps formed seconds later and you smirked slightly as you pressed feather light kisses to his jawline.

you moved the arm that was still around his neck to cup his face, staring up at him with doe eyes. soobin’s lips were on yours hungrily. his fingertips pressed into the small of your back and you let out a soft moan. your hand lightly palmed the bulge in his sweatpants and soobin backed away your lips, whimpering slightly as he pressed his forehead to yours. “y/n…” he breathed, his breaths were coming out short as you continued your palming.

smiling slightly against his lips, you pulled away and dropped to your knees in front of him, keeping your eyes on his. if the bakery windows weren’t covered right now, it would be a sight to see. “fuck…” he muttered lowly, barely audible for you to hear. the tips of his ears and his cheeks were a deep pink. you hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled softly, eyes still on his. he squeezed his eyes shut briefly, “please, y/n…”

you were one to oblige. you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down slowly. soobin’s fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so hard that they were turning white. soobin’s cock sprang up, free from the restraints of his clothes, and bounced lightly off his lower abdomen.

you stared at it with wide eyes. you weren’t expecting soobin’s cock to be so… huge, you had no idea how you were gonna fit it all in your mouth like you originally intended. soobin let out a soft whimper as you started lightly pumping his shaft with both hands. precum trailed down the tip of his cock and you lapped it up.

soobin let out a loud moan, throwing his head back briefly. he looked down at you, eyes glazed. “s-stop teasing…” soobin managed as you continued to pump him and kitten lick his head. he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you closer. you giggled, the vibrations making him let out another moan, and put him in your mouth slowly. you definitely weren’t going to be able to take all of him, at about half way you were basically deepthroating him. soobin let out a shuddering breath, “please y/n… i need— need you to start moving.” you did as you were told, moving your mouth up and down his shaft slowly.

you could tell soobin was close when his head fell and his cock started to twitch in your mouth. his breathing was heavy and the grip on your shoulder tightened. soobin moved the hand from your shoulder to the back of your head. “i’m so… close… faster…” he whined as he softly moved your head. you wrapped a hand at the base of his shaft and started pumping as you sucked him off faster.

the cord finally snapped and you felt warm liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. you hummed, continuing your motions as you helped soobin ride out his high. he was a whimpering mess in front of you. you pulled soobin’s cock out your mouth slowly, staring up at him as you swallowed his cum. that almost undid him again completely as he moaned your name softly between haggard breaths.

soobin cupped your face and pulled you to your feet, crashing his lips onto yours. it was sloppy and desperate as he slid his hands down your waist and to your thighs. he hooked his hands under them and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his bare waist. the tip of his dick brushed against your ass and you rocked your hips at the touch. you needed him. needed his huge cock inside you, filling you up, begging you to break. soobin moaned against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

you were backed against the wall where the chalkboard menu was as you and soobin hungrily kissed each other. you pushed your hips off the wall and towards his needily. pulling away, you let out a moan and soobin’s lips immediately found your neck, sucking down on it. moving your neck so he could get better access, you whimpered as he found your sweet spot. “soobin…”

soobin hummed as he pressed kisses to the sensitive marks. you shivered slightly. “need you… please…” you whined as his tip brushed against you again. you were sure the panties you wore were soaked and soobin had barely even touched you. soobin trailed his kisses from your neck to your cheek. you hardly felt him move you to the back of the bakery, too drunk on his lips on yours.

it wasn’t until you were bent over the ingredients table, soobin pulling your leggings and wet panties down and discarding them off to the side somewhere, that you realized you were in a different part of the bakery. you gasped at the sudden exposure and looked back to soobin. he pressed his body up against you, his dick rubbing against your ass. soobin looked down at you, desire swirling in his eyes. he placed his hands on your hips as you grinded back onto him, needing some sort of friction.

soobin put his head in the crook of your neck as you whimpered. “you know how i got the title of the greatest baker alive?” soobin asked you lowly, lips coming to your ear. he held your hips in place when you tried to grind back on him again and instead lifted one of your legs onto the table. soobin pressed light kisses across your back until he was at your other ear. one of his hands trailed from your hip down to your clit. he started rubbing small circles onto it. you arched your back, moaning his name as you melted underneath him. “by being good with my hands,” soobin continued, whispering in your other ear. his breath fanned your neck as his fingers traveled further.

you looked back to him, a desperate look on your face, as you grinded back on him again. his hard cock rubbed slightly on your entrance and you fell down onto the table at the euphoria. using the hand that was on your hip, soobin trails it up under your shirt and up your stomach as he pulls you up and back towards him until your head is leaning against his chest. his hand cups your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple slightly. your shirt rises at the action, exposing your other breast to the cold wind. “would you like to see how good i am with my hands?”

whimpering at his touch, all you can do is look up into his eyes and nod. “let me hear your pretty words, baby.” soobin speaks as he rubs his two long fingers against your entrance. you’re breathing heavily and it takes you everything you have to push out words. “p-please…”

soobin’s fingers halt its movements. “please what?” you take your lip between your teeth and bite down hard and inhale sharply at the loss of friction. “please soobin—” your head falls slightly and soobin takes the hand from your breast and tilts it back up so you’re staring at him again. “show… show me how— how good you are…” you finally push out. soobin gives you a satisfied smile and presses his lips to yours at the same time as he pushes two slender fingers into you.

gasping loudly against his lips, your knees almost buckled had it not been for the fact that soobin was holding you up. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, trying to go slowly but you were so wet his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, moving faster than intended. “fuck y/n… you’re so wet. and it’s all for me.”

soobin locked his lips with yours, keeping you against him as kept fucking you so you wouldn’t double over. his long fingers then curled against your walls, hitting just the right spot. you moaned against his lips, “don’t stop… d-don’t—”

the difference between how soobin was kissing you and how he was fingering you sent your head into even more of a daze. he was kissing you so slowly, so softly as his fingers pushed in and out of you relentlessly. it had you clenching around him as the squelching sounds and your desperate moans and whimpers filled the room. “i won’t, baby, i won’t.”

your body shuddered as your back arched suddenly. you pulled away from soobin’s lips as you struggled to breathe. “gonna cum…” you trailed off breathily. soobin continued his pumping and started rubbing your nipple again. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck. you felt his smile when you shivered from it. “cum for me, darling. all over my fingers.”

drowning in the pleasure soobin was giving you, you came all over his fingers just like he told you to. soobin didn’t stop, in fact he started fucking you with his fingers faster. your hands clenched against the table as you moaned his name, completely fucked out.

soobin took his fingers out of you, holding it in front of you to see as the remaining white liquid dripped out of you and down your thigh. his whole hand was dripping with your release, drops of it falling onto the table. “look at how good you did, baby. you took my fingers so well.” you took his hand, staring up at him through glazed and hooded eyes, and put his wet fingers in your mouth. you smiled lazily at him as you pull them out slowly, relishing in the way his eyes widen a fraction. soobin took his thumb and dragged it across your bottom lip and chin, picking up the cum that dripped onto it. he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you gladly sucked the cum off of it. soobin placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing in your mouth as he tasted your arousal.

he pulls away and turns you around, pushing you down gently onto the table by your shoulders and lifting your legs onto it. “i wanna see your pretty face when i fuck you.” you lean back to one side on your elbow, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you reach for his cock and pump it slowly. “soobin… i need you… inside me…” you whimper.

soobin spreads your legs and pushes them towards your chest as he leans forward and kisses you. pulling away, he looks at you with genuine concern. “are you sure you can take it all?” you nod rapidly. instead of his cock, soobin pushes three fingers into you. he does it with ease as he slowly moves them in and out of you, leaning forward and kissing you.

whining against his lips, you buck your hips up, which causes his fingers to go deeper into you. you cried out in pleasure. “please… i need it,” you moan. soobin chuckles as he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, you groan at the sight, head falling back against the wall. he takes his cock and lines it up with your entrance, rubbing it with his tip a little. “you want my cock?” you buck your hips again, a whimper escaping your lips.

soobin laughs softly and pushes his thick cock into you slowly, his head flying back as he let out a moan as you stretch around him. his cock is inside you halfway when he stops, letting you adjust. he leans down to kiss you as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

once you adjust, he starts moving slowly, only ever putting half of him inside you. you arch your back, getting used to how much he already fills you up. you’re already close to cumming again and soobin can tell as your walls clench around him and your legs shake. his hands are against the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. you grind up against him and it almost takes the both of you out. his head falls as he places his hands flat on the table and your brows scrunch up as you both let out an entangled moan.

soobin takes his cock out from inside you and you whine at the loss. he laughs lowly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and to your core. his fingers stop rubbing your clit and tears prick at your eyes from how badly you need the sensation back. “you want it that badly?” soobin asks you lowly, his voice soft as he leans down close to your lips. all you can do is lean your head against the wall and nod.

“let me hear your words, baby.” soobin continues his slow circles on your clit.

“please…” you whisper desperately, running your hands through his hair and pulling a little so that it pulls his head back. “i-i need your cock… badly…” soobin moaned softly and you chased his lips, needing his lips on yours, as you clawed at his back. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then pulled away from you fully. soobin then takes his other hand and grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even get you time to moan at the new angle your clit is being rubbed at before he shoves his cock back inside you, completely bottoming out. you gasp as the sudden feel of him, back arching and hips rolling involuntarily.

soobin gives you a second of adjustment before he thrusts sharply into you. you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you melt under him. soobin continues his quick thrusts into you, making sure he pulls all the way out until just his tip is inside you before slamming back into you again. he holds your leg to his chest tightly and the slow circles on your clit become fast ones. you're a whimpering mess under him, only being able to moan his name, as you grip onto the edge of the table desperately.

“is this what you want? for me to fuck you like this?” soobin asks you through pants, pummeling into you faster. you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, crying out as you feel yourself cum again and your back arches more. soobin fucks the cum back into you. you whine, barely nodding, as your clit grows more and more sensitive from his circling. your breaths are coming out haggard under his unrelenting movements and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts grow sloppier and his hips jerk.

soobin takes his hand from your clit and you finally get a full breath in. your brain is foggy with pleasure and you see that his is too. his eyes are glazed over as he stares down at his cock entering and exiting you. the sounds coming from your bodies are downright pornographic. the wetness as soobin fucks mercilessly into you, your skin slapping hard against each other, the creaking of the table under you, and the loud, desperate moans and whimpers that are leaving the both of your lips. it’s all too much. so much that it almost makes you cum again and you lean your head back, tears in your eyes, to look at the ceiling.

soobin suddenly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. “speak up, baby. tell me how you want me to fuck you.” he says low and breathily. you stare at him through your lashes, breathy moans coming from your mouth as you shake violently under him from another orgasm.

“i-i want you to fuck me hard…” you manage, “senseless…” a satisfied grin plays on his lips as he pulls your face towards him for a deep kiss that quickly turns sloppy as he releases into you, filling you up even more to the point where cum is dripping out of you and onto the table.

soobin’s kisses turn soft as his thrusts slow to a stop and he whispers words of praise in your ear. you’re both panting and sweaty at the whole exchange as you pull away from each other. soobin holds you close, cock still inside you, as your shaking ceases and he rubs circles into your back. “you did so good for me, darling. you took my cock so well. i’m proud of you.” once you’re still again, he wipes the stray tears that escaped from your eyes off your cheeks and cups your face, pressing feather light kisses on your eyes. he brings his forehead to yours and gives you a soft kiss on the nose that you giggle at as you lean back on your hands.

finally, soobin pulls out of you and releases a river of cum with it onto the table that drips down to the floor. he smirks down at it before looking back at you, his smirk growing at how fucked out you look. you barely even register the smirk. it disappears as his eyes then go soft, cupping your face again.

“too much?” soobin asked, concern lacing his voice. you remove your leg from his shoulder, the feeling of stickiness intensifying. you shook your head as a dazed smile spreads across your lips. “it was just enough. it was perfect.” you lean over to kiss him and soobin chuckles against your lips.

“what are you gonna do about all of this?” you ask and motion down to your half naked bodies covered in cum. your legs are still spread to avoid sticking them together. the bottom of soobin’s shirt and his sweatpants were ruined with the amount of cum on them. there was cum on your shirt too and you didn’t even know where your leggings and panties were.

“how are we gonna clean up all this cum and go back out into society i think is the better question.” soobin responded, his cheeks flushed. you giggled, and he looks back up to you. “i didn’t know i’d do this good of a job…” you press light kisses to his cheeks.

soobin grabs a warm wet napkin and cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle. he laughs softly when you twitch from the sudden wetness. he helps you off the table, avoiding the liquids on the ground, and cleans himself off after. you pull your shirt down and look around for your bottoms as soobin pulls up his boxers and sweatpants.

“nice outfit,” you laugh, pulling up your leggings. soobin looks down at the dried cum and laughs. “i could say the same to you,” he replies. he grabs your hips and pulles you close, his arms then wrapping around your waist. you wrapped yours around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“you’re not sore?” he asks softly, “not hurting anywhere?” you press a kiss to his cheek that causes a dimpled smile to show up. you pressed another to his lips. “not hurting anywhere and not sore… yet…” you giggled softly at him. “you don’t have to be so concerned, i’m okay!” after assuring him a couple more times, soobin finally believed you.

it’s safe to say that the two of you had to stay even longer after hours than expected cleaning everything again and fixing the chalkboard menu. you also had to leave the bakery wearing your aprons. for the rest of the week—and honestly, permanently after—soobin was worshiping the ground you walked on.

of course, you had told your best friend sunoo about the events and he almost screamed in the middle of chaconne, flowers flying everywhere. “you’re welcome!” he said, crossing his arms smugly with a satisfied grin. you had to once again remind him that he had no part in your relationship. “i’m the one who told you about the bakery! without me, you’d never get any creampies!” he winked and gave you a pointed look towards your neck that were covered with hickeys badly hidden with a scarf.

you hid your face in your hands as heat spread across it. maybe it was a bad idea telling sunoo about you and soobin having sex…

the shift after at the bakery was awkward to say the least. you both could barely focus on the goods you were making or the competition because you kept thinking about the previous night’s events. the two of you had forgotten about the cameras and soobin had to run to erase the footage before his mom checked them. that surely would’ve been an awkward conversation to have that you were glad was avoided.

the both of you did watch it before deleting it, though, and watching the two of you have sex was a whole other experience. one that you often brought up everytime you wanted to catch soobin off guard and see his pretty cheeks tinged pink.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part one┊request rules ⋆｡˚ ᝰ -﹏-

#txt #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #tomorrow x together #txt soobin #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin #choi soobin x y/n #soobin scenarios #soobin fluff #soobin x reader #soobin oneshot #soobin imagines #soobin fanfic #soobin #soobin x y/n #soobin drabbles #soobin smut #txt soobin smut #choi soobin smut #txt au #txt smut #txt aus #txt fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #soobin hard hours

[chishiyaisasnack]

Shower time

Here’s a fic that I’ve been working on for a good while now and I’m finally content with posting it. It’s sfw even though it’s a shower scene. Mostly fluff (?) and a tiiiiiny but of angst.

Disclaimer! This story is based in the Borderlands and it mentions blood, wounds and trauma from it. It’s not about how they got injured, but more so very mildly describing that they are injured. I consider it sfw but it does contain nudity since they’re taking a shower, but I’m not describing bodyparts or anything. Also, small references to sex just for humor, but there is no smut whatsoever.

Oh, and the reader doesn’t know that Chishiya is a doctor.

I’ve written and am posting on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.

”I’m going to take a shower.”

With strong steps - actually more like a wobble - you walked into your room at The Beach, Chishiya following close behind you, watching your every movement just in case you would trip over your own feet, like you already had done about 30 times since you left the game area. It had been a rough one and it had left you wounded, exhausted and a bit lethargic. Not to mention the strain it had taken on your mental state, like the games always did, but you had turned off your feelings for now and had only one goal in mind: a long, warm shower to wash off all the remnants of the game.

”No you aren’t, it can wait until tomorrow.” Chishiya sounded like he always did, bored and condescending, but you knew that there was some worry in there somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to follow you all the way back to your room, offering to catch you when you’d eventually fall.

”I feel gross. I’m covered in … stuff.” Blood. You were covered in blood. You raised your arms to make your point clearer, in case he missed what an absolute mess you were right now.

”Fine. Come on then.” Chishiya sighed, walked around you, and went towards the bathroom while you stood confused, watching him open the door and look back at you before stepping inside.

”Wait, what?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why was he joining you?

With slow steps you followed him, wondering if he got the wrong idea. He was gorgeous, but sex was the last thing on your mind, especially shower sex. Didn’t he say that you were in no condition to even take a shower to begin with? You stopped in the doorway and waited for a response.

”You most likely have a concussion, you’re wounded and you’re exhausted. You’re going to collapse by yourself.” He turned on the shower and let the stream of water fall, waiting for it to turn hot.

”Okay, okay, doctor.” The smirk you got back confused you even more. Did he have a thing for being called ’doctor’? It wouldn’t suprise you, he was a mystery. But even him would surely have preferrences. Wait, why were you thinking about sex again?

You shook your head as you walked inside the bathroom, limping past Chishiya as he was making his way out again. Or so you thought. In the corner of your eye you saw him stretch, but it wasn’t until you turned around that you saw what he really was doing.

”Uhh, why are you taking your clothes off?” Your eyes widened as his hoodie hit the floor. He had no shame, appearantly getting naked with you without warning was completely normal in his world.

”I’m getting ready to help you when you realise that I was right. Don’t worry, I won’t join you until you ask me to. Which will be soon, so I’m preparing for that.”

You didn’t know if you should feel thankful or offended by what he said.

Chishiya however, smirked again, cocking an eyebrow at your dumbfounded look. He was enjoying this. While still looking at you he started to pull down his shorts. Your eyes were fixed on the pile of clothes he had created on the floor, which thankfully wasn’t added with more pieces since he decided to keep at least his boxers on. The daring look he had on his face when you turned your eyes back up was annoying. Did he like that you were looking at him? Not that you were looking at him like that anyway. You just wanted to take a shower. Or so you told yourself.

With his shirt and pants off he sat down on the toilet seat, turning around so that he had his back against you and the glass wall of the shower.

”Go ahead” he said, a hint of amusement hiding in his voice. ”I won’t look.”

”You better not” you huffed back at him, watching him carefully while you started to remove your own clothes, ripped apart and stained with blood. Instead of putting them in a pile you threw them straight into the trashcan. Once removed, you looked into the mirror over the sink and you almost gasped at how wounded you actually were. Cuts and bruises covered your arms, legs and back. Patches of your skin were stained red, even your face still had traces of blood left on it. You looked terrible.

Sighing, you stopped studiyng yourself and looked over your shoulder. Chishiya was still sitting with his back against you, shoulders rising and falling slow with every breath, the muscles of his back tensing when he moved. He looked soft. You wondered what he would look like wet.

No! This was not the right time to daydream about Chishiya and his pretty back, his blonde hair that fell in waves over his shoulders, those shoulders that probably would feel great to hold on to while your lips were… Oh, for fucks sake, just get in the shower y/n.

After disrupting yourself from your thoughts you made your way into the shower, closing your eyes as the water started cascading down your body. The glass wall seperating the shower and the rest of the room was conveniently half covered with frosted glass so that it covered most of your body, from your shoulders down to your knees, making you a bit less embarrassed over being naked in the same room as him. Being naked in front of someone when it wasn’t sexual wasn’t your idea of calming, and even though he had no shame, you still had. This was too intimate, too casual. But if it was what it took to take a shower then you’d do it. Even though you didn’t like to admit it you did trust Chishiya to treat you with decency and respect. He might be considered one of the people you shouldn’t trust in the borderlands, a bad person perhaps, but not bad enough to overstep someones boundaries like this.

”Let me know when you need me.” Chishiyas voice rang somewhere in the distance. Not even a ’if you need me’. He was too confident and it just made you even more stubborn. You were definitely able to take a shower by yourself, you were damned to not let him win this one, you told yourself while reaching for the soap. With unsteady hands (no, they absolutely weren’t unsteady because you were tired) you started to scrub the dirt off yourself, one part at a time. You hissed whenever you discovered a new wound you weren’t aware of and eventually the pain from it made you a bit dizzy. No, you could do this.

You clenched your jaw as you continued, slowly moving from head to toe, covering yourself with suds. Finally, everything you could see and feel was gone, so you let the stream of water fall over you once again, closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth that it gave. You felt your muscles relax, your breathing slowing down, your eyelids getting heavier…

”Chishiya…” you mumbled weakly, mad that he was right, again.

”I’m here.” A voice right behind you made you jump. You turned around and swung your fist towards him, ready to punch him out of pure panic, but he caught it before it landed on him. The borderlands had really done a number on you, you were constantly prepared for survival and appearantly even Chishiya was a victim of your anxiety. ”Calm down, it’s just me.”

”How long have you been standing there?!” You wobbled to the side as you tried to fight your bodys urge to fall onto the ground from the sudden movements. Chishiya steadied you by holding your upper arms, and helped you turn back around so that your back was facing him again.

”You moved slower and slower so I was ready when you called for me. I haven’t been standing here ogling.”

”So you have been watching me?” You didn’t even think about the fact that you probably flashed him completely just now. Well, if he saw something he didn’t care about it, which was comforting in this situation.

”Of course. I couldn’t see anything other than your head anyway. It wasn’t quite the show you think it was.” Chishiyas voice was dripping with amusement.

Once again, you didn’t know if you should be thankful or offended.

”Give me the schampoo bottle.” Chishiya asked, or rather commanded, reaching his arm out next to you so you could hand him the bottle. Once he got it you could hear him shake it before opening it and pouring out some of the liquid in his hand, followed by a low thump as he put it on the floor behind you.

Slender fingers moved over your hair, softly massaging it with his fingertips, giving you full body shivers from the way his fingers drew circles between the strands. It felt nice. Safe. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes again and just relish in the warmth radiating from his hands. He was so careful with how he touched you, slow and gentle while he worked his way through all of your hair.

A part of you wished that he would step closer so that you could feel the warmth from his body wrap around you, so that you could lean back and relax in his arms, just enjoying how your body would feel so at ease while being comforted, but you had no idea how to ask him for that without it sounding sexual.

”Shower head, please.”

You did as he asked and handed him the shower head, turning up the water pressure while doing so to make it easier for him to rinse.

”Close your eyes and bend your head backwards. Tell me if you feel dizzy.” Chishiya didn’t sound so stern this time. His words were soft and comforting, asking you to trust him. So you did.

He rinsed your hair in silence. One hand holding the shower head while the other one kept massaging your scalp, making sure to rinse out the schampoo properly. Even though you desperately tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of, you couldn’t stop your emotions from seeping back into your mind. Pictures of the game were flashing before your eyes. People screaming. Fighting. Lasers going off.

”Chishiya…” you whispered, no longer able to stop thinking about what had happend earlier.

”Mhmm..?”

”There was a child there tonight.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel the movements in his hands stiffen as he continued to rinse your scalp free from schampoo.

”I didn’t know that there were children here” you continued, trying to get the thoughts out of your head so you wouldn’t be tormented by them during the night. ”I thought maybe we were sent here to repent or something like that, that we were getting what we deserve. But why would a child deserve this? Even if we are all randomly sent here, without any reason behind why it’s us in particular, why would they choose a child?”

”…I don’t know.” He sounded emtpy when he answered, not that you were expecting his words to be comforting. They rarely were. There was a long pause before he spoke again. ”Did the child make it?”

”Yeah…” A shiver ran trough your body when Chishiya stopped rinsing your hair, already missing the heat from the water. Another thump came from the floor when he put the shower head down. ”Some of us worked together and protected him as much as we could.”

”Do you have conditioner?” he interrupted, sticking his hand out next to you so that you could hand it to him. You placed the bottle in his hand and watched him retrieve it. A click of the bottle cap was followed by another thump when he put it down on the ground. You wondered how many times he must’ve stared at your ass by now.

”Anyway,” you continued, shaking the image of him smirking at your butt away. ”That’s why I look like this. I took the hits for him.”

”That sounds like you.”

You hummed at his words. It was reassuring that you were considered to be a nice person, even in this hellscape.

Gentle fingers threaded through your hair again and you leaned into the touch. It went by faster this time since he didn’t need to scrub, although you wished he would keep doing this for hours. Every time he let go of you - this time to pick up the shower head again - the ache in your body took over, making you tremble ever so slightly even though the steam from the hot water was surrounding you. You were relieved when you felt the water against your back, contently closing your eyes and bending your head back into Chishiyas palm.

”I envy you sometimes.” Chishiya mumbled, so quiet that the sound of the water almost drowned it out.

”You do?”

”I wouldn’t have helped someone else if it meant that I would have to work for it, let alone get hurt from it.” Chishiya paused briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully. ”Especially not a stranger. You didn’t think twice about doing so.”

”I don’t believe that.” You cut him off before he got the chance to put himself down even more. ”You’re better than you think, Chishiya. Just look at what you’re doing for me right now.”

”I’m washing your hair, I’m not saving you from dying.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

”You don’t have to save me from death to help me. This is helping me. Besides, from the sound of your attempts to stop me from showering, I could die in here if you didn’t help me.”

”Maybe I just wanted to see you naked” Chishiya joked with such a monotone voice that anyone else would think he was serious, but you knew better. Well, if he was serious he had gotten his wish - paired with a fist coming at his face.

”Right” you snorted, too tired to laugh. A blush still crept over your cheeks, imagining his eyes on you in that way. ”Keep telling yourself that if that makes you feel better.”

”There” Chishiya ignored your answer and handed you the shower head. Cold air rushed to your skin as the water left it, leaving you almost begging for him to continue. Would it be so bad if you did?

”You can turn off the water now. I’ll get you some towels. Stay there.”

With a pout you put the shower head back into it’s place and turned off the water. Behind you, you could hear how Chishiya was gathering towels from a drawer, his footsteps making their way back over the tiled floor that would be cold and uninviting for your own feet in a second.

”Lift your arms a little.” You did as he asked and lift your arms halfway up, stopping waist high, only to see Chishiyas arms poking out from under them, holding up a towel that you thankfully grabbed a hold on and quickly wrapped around yourself to try to regain some of the warmth that the shower had given you.

”You’re safe to turn around now.”

”Thank you” you quitly replied as you gently spun around, just to be met by a still undressed Chishiya with his own towel hanging around his neck and a soft expression on his face. If you didn’t know better you would think that he was worried about you.

A smaller towel was in one of his hands - which soon landed on your head, covering your face at the same time. Your sour expression that was revealed as you peeled it off made him grin.

”Do you want help to dry it?” He asked, eyes shiny from amusement, and watched as you stubbornly started to squeeze the ends of your hair, too tired to lift your arms up and dry it completely.

”No, I’ll just put the towel over the pillow when I sleep. It’s fine” you replied, following his example and put your own towel over your shoulders. The chill in the air was starting to really get to you, and you decided that you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. Just thinking about laying down, surrounded by warm covers, maybe even a pair of socks on your feet at first, burying your head on the pillow…

”The wounds on your back looked fine but I still need to cover some of them with bandaids. I need to examine your front too. Let me know when you’ve covered up so that I can check your arms, legs and stomach.”

Ugh, why did he have to interupt your dream about your bed with another naked request? You just wanted to sleep.

”I’m sure I’ll be fine Chishiya” you groaned back at him, slowly (and unsteadily) making your way past him and towards the bed. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, just a few more steps and you’d reach the doorhandle, that doorhandle that would open the gate and lead you straight towards the nice, warm, fluffy….

You groaned even louder when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping your weak attempt to get out of the bathroom and keeping you still while Chishiya made his way around you so that he was facing you again. That calm face was back and you didn’t like it.

”Please, Chishiya, just let me sleep” you pleaded but to no avail.

”Come here.” You had no choice but to move after him, not being strong enough to even attempt to break loose from his grip on your arm, that was keeping you somewhat steady as you plopped one foot in front of the other until you reached the end of the bathroom. Then - lo and behold - Chishiya opened the door and led you out into the hotel room, making your way straight towards the bed. Right as he reached the foot of the bed he stopped and slowly turned the two of you around in a circle so that your back was now facing the bed, and then pushed you back so that you fell down on the soft duvet cover with a yelp. It felt like heaven to finally lay down, like a cloud was enveloping you and taking you with it to the land of dreams.

”Where are your underwear?” Chishiya once again interrupted your inner monolouge.

”Why? Wanna see them so badly even though you’ve already seen me naked?” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head to the side so that you could watch him dig around in a dresser until he grabbed the first, best pair of panties he could find and threw them at you.

”Put them on please, unless you want me to examine you naked. I’m fine with either way.”

You just huffed at him, secretly liking the playful look he was giving you. When he turned his back to you, you managed to shuffle around and get your panties on, just to let your legs fall back down onto the bed with a loud thump. God, you were exhausted.

”I’m done, doctor.” Once again, he reacted with a grin and you were now positive that he had some wierd doctor patient kink and that you were so going to make him confess that. A mission for another day.

Chishiya sat down next to your legs and reached over them to pick up a first aid kit you didn’t even know was laying next to you. Was he a wizard too?

You kept still, listening to the opening of packets, a liquid poured onto what you imagined was a cotton ball, and then your own hiss as he touched the first wound on your leg. It wasn’t the liquid that hurt, it was just the tender touch from the gauze he dabbed against your skin that hurt enough to make you wince. He must have started on a bad one.

”Try to keep still” he murmured gently, sounding like he was completely occupied with his task of tormenting you just a bit more before letting you sleep.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to concentrate on his hands and fingers working their way over your legs, dabbing it with the liquid, letting it dry, then putting a compress and some adhesive tape over it like a home made band aid. His touch was so gentle that it was barely there.

Your eyelids turned heavier with every touch of his fingertips and even though your wounds were stinging, his warm skin eased the pain afterwards and comforted you without knowing so. Before falling asleep you murmured a ”thank you.”

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of being enveloped in something warm, probably the cover that wasn’t underneath you and a soft whisper.

”You’re welcome.”

#my writing #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya x y/n #aib chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya imagine #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya fanfic

[pagannatural]

2.03 Bloodlust

-Sam flirts with Dean by telling him (and the Impala) to get a room. Meanwhile he’s looking at Dean like this and the two of them are, literally, getting a room.

-Sam tells the bartender “we’re looking for some people” and the bartender says “sure, hard to be lonely.”

Sam blinks wide, grimaces. Dean looks at him, assessing. Sam looks down and then at Dean while he says “yeah, but, um…” slowly, then he regroups and pulls out a fifty, “that’s not what I meant.” There’s a sexual implication to being lonely and looking for someone at a bar, and the brothers share a very loaded look about it. It’s like this bartender accidentally hit on a truth.

Sam has been lonely for Dean. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to him and spend time with him since their dad died, and Dean has been shutting Sam out emotionally. Sam knows Dean is lonely for him too, even though he won’t say it.

-Sam notices something is off when Dean says he’s been itching for a hunt. He and Dean also make prolonged eye contact after Dean kills a vampire and his face is spattered with blood, and Sam notices Dean is unsettled. They give each other strength just by staring into each others eyes. Sam’s always paying attention to Dean.

-Dean also notices right away that Sam’s off and asks him if he’s okay. Noticing Sam, for him, is less watchful and more like noticing the orbit of his own moon. Gravity’s off, something’s up with Sam.

-Sam went from correcting Dean every time he used Sam’s nickname to “he’s the only one who gets to call me that.” It’s so possessive, like he’s saying I’m his not yours. Dean notices and smiles to himself. Then he says “Sammy remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later” you’re gonna do what to him later?

-Sam’s development from telling Dean he has to let him go to identifying him as the only one who can use his nickname is also the change from Sam seeking distance to Sam acquiescing to being Dean’s.

-Dean tells Gordon a story about killing a monster at 16 while Sammy waited in the car. He didn’t need to mention where Sammy was, he wasn’t a part of the story, but he has a condition* that makes him talk about Sammy to strangers whenever he’s not there (*wretched, soul-crushing love).

-Dean tells Gordon he always thought of his dad as indestructible. Now he’s questioning everything about his dad’s teachings and realizing the version of John in his head is not the only one.

-Sam says he sees through Dean’s fake smile and knows how Dean feels, because he feels the same way. When Sam says that Dean’s behavior is “an insult to [John’s] memory,” Dean kind of nods and raises his eyebrows like “you have no fucking idea” before punching Sam in the face.

-For once, Sam is way off about Dean. He has no idea how Dean feels or what he’s dealing with. The idea of insulting vs honoring John’s memory is complicated for Dean right now. He’s seeing Sam being protective of John for maybe the first time ever and I can just imagine Dean thinking, I raised you, and the man you finally want to respect as your father asked me to kill you.

-Dean looks regretful after he punches Sam, like he’s realizing he took it too far, and Sam looks hurt and taken aback, his eyes searching to and away from Dean and his mouth open. And then Sam tells Dean, “you can hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.”

There are some potential layers to that.

1. They’re arguing about something else here, at the same time—whether or not vampires can choose to act ethically or if they’re inherently evil. Sam implores Dean not to kill them, believing the former. Dean wants killing to be black and white due to Dead Dad’s Last Words reasons. Hitting Sam won’t make the issue any clearer.

2. Sam’s words could be interpreted as “you can hurt me all you want and it won’t change how I feel.” About Dean. Or “whatever you do it won’t change the way things are.” Between them.

3. Sam has been begging Dean to give him something real and emotional, he’s been pushing and pushing him to get a reaction, escalating and becoming more desperate. Now Dean has responded. He’s hurt Sam, but that means he’s touched him out of uncontrollable emotion—or better yet has chosen to inflict his feelings and needs upon Sam’s body. The pain is better than nothing.

It’s hard to be lonely.

-When I first saw this scene I was shook. Dean hit his baby brother! My best guess is that Dean has never punched him like this before, outside of the context of sparring. I might be wrong about that, but the way Sam accepts the punch and turns slowly back to Dean with that disbelieving look felt too significant. I thought Sam was going to feel betrayed or scared, but Sam’s resolve strengthens, he gazes after Dean, and then he follows him.

And then things go right back to normal between them.

-Another thing Sam is missing is that Dean trusts Gordon partially because Dean can identify with Gordon. Gordon said he hunts vampires because vampires killed his sister, and Dean trusts another protective brother.

-Sam tracks the nest and Dean says “you’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Just like that they’re reconciled. Sam’s face is probably still throbbing, it’s been like 3 minutes.

-When Gordon pulls a knife on Sam and admits he killed his sister himself, it’s over for him. Dean is not having any of that.

-Dean punches Gordon in the face in front of Sam, then moves really close to Sam to tell him they can leave now. It’s like he wants Sam to see what he’ll do to anyone who threatens him. Dean is the only one who’s allowed to hurt Sam. He also asks Sam to punch him to get him back, so he clearly feels guilty.

-Dean’s true nature is a huge theme in this episode. He’s trying to understand who he is. Gordon tells him that he was “born to hunt” and “a killer like me.” John wrote the same things about child-Dean in his diary.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam that he has the instinct to kill and would’ve killed the vampires. That’s how he was raised, it’s what John told him to do. I love how Dean is a caregiver and a killer in equal measure, he takes naturally to both violence and nurturing.

Sam reminds him he made the right choice. Dean says “yeah cause you’re a pain in my ass.” He made the decision because of Sam. He’ll kill for Sam but he’ll also decide not to kill for Sam.

Sam says “I guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass then.” Dean thanks him and gazes at him intently. Even here, notice the mention of their connection being painful.

Sam is now agreeing to stick with Dean not because of what John would’ve wanted but because he’s accepting his role as Dean’s guiding light, the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose and good.

Dean’s purpose is not killer or caregiver, but protector. He’s guardian of Sam’s soul.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #spn 2x03 #every episode I think this analysis will be shorter and every episode I’m humbled

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (3) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coriolanus will make you fall in love with him one way or another. 

word count: 3,036

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: coryo’s pov, jealous!coryo, not proofread

You were absolutely infuriating. Everything about you got under Coriolanus’s skin, from the way you spoke to him, to how your face would change—grow harder, tenser—whenever you would look at him, to the way everyone else got the softer version of you while he was only left with the scraps of your attention. It was ridiculous, he thought, that anyone could ever make him like that. Even Miss Livia Cardew was more bearable than you. If he was saner, he would have called this entire thing off. To admit that courting you was a mistake and that you would not be the perfect Queen he knew you could be. But the less rational part of him itched at the idea of anyone—even his best friend—calling you their bride.

When Sejanus invited Coriolanus over for drinks one evening, he was tempted to turn the invitation down. When he thought of his friend, all he could picture was you wrapped up in Sejanus’s arms, letting him touch you in the way only Coriolanus should. If he saw Sejanus, he might hurt him in a way that would only make your intolerance for Coriolanus grow stronger. And yet, there were advantages to seeing his friend. He could gauge Sejanus’s own feelings for you, determine if he was as big a threat as Coriolanus thought him to be. 

That was how Coriolanus ended up sat in the study of the Plinth Manor, watching as Sejanus poured a glass of posca for him. 

“I hear your courtship is going well,” Sejanus said, handing the glass to Coriolanus. He sat it down on the table beside him. He wanted a clear mind for this. “Will the wedding bells be ringing soon?”

Ordinarily, Coriolanus would try have more tact when he was seeking information like this. But this was about you, and he never could think straight when it came to you. 

“She would rather marry you.”

Sejanus looked up at him as he poured a glass for himself. He set the bottle to the side, then sank into the leather chair across from Coriolanus. “She is convinced you despise her.”

Coriolanus looked back to his glass of posca. Perhaps he should indulge in the drink. It would certainly be easier than this conversation. “She is equally convinced she could fall in love with you.”

Sejanus look a long drink. He set the glass down, a dull clink! being the only sound in the study. “Why does that bother you?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked back at Sejanus. Why was he not doing anything to assure Coriolanus that he was not interested in you? That he wouldn’t try to take away what belonged to Coriolanus? “She is to be my wife.”

“You have yet to propose. Anything could happen before then.”

Coriolanus’s heart rate quickened. No. Anything could not happen before then. He would leave now, go straight to your family home, and propose immediately—officially getting your father’s approval be damned. You were his. No one could stand in the way of that. He would not allow that to happen. “You want to marry her then?” he spat out. 

Saying the words alone made him feel sick. The picture of you in Sejanus’s arms returned to the forefront of his mind. Now, though, it was clearer—you smiling, leaning into Sejanus; him, looking down at you, his affection clearly etched in his features. Coriolanus wished he could reach into his mind, rip out the picture, and smash it to bits. 

“I did not say that, Coryo.” Sejanus’s tone was gentle, but it only served to enrage Coriolanus further. 

“Then what are you saying?”

Sejanus stared at Coriolanus for what felt like an eternity, saying nothing. Anger continued to simmer under Coriolanus’s skin, so close to boiling over. Why couldn’t Sejanus just say what he meant? Why was he so intent on being cryptic, on getting on Coriolanus’s nerves? 

“I just want to understand how you feel for her.”

“So you can take her from me?”

Sejanus sighed. “No, Coryo. You know I would not do anything to hurt you like that. But you are going to hurt her if you cannot figure out your feelings. Tell me, why does she think she could fall in love with me but not you?”

Because you are infuriating. Because you surprise him. Because you do everything you can to get under his skin. Because you occupy every part of his mind and he cannot stand that. “She said you are an easy person to love.”

Sejanus nodded. He was silent for a moment, mulling over Coriolanus’s words. Then, he said, “Ma is hosting a ball soon. Your future bride has already confirmed her attendance. Come, and give her a reason to fall for you.”

That, dear Sejanus, was easier said than done. 

He was late, and Coriolanus hated being late. It would reflect poorly on him if he were to ever make it a habit. Though, you would likely think poorly of him regardless of what he did. Why were you like that? Why did you only see the horrible in him? Any other woman in the ton would fawn over him, delight themselves in the scraps of his attention. But you…He wasn’t sure. It felt like you could see into the depths of his soul and you despised what he was. 

Despite your hatred for him, Coriolanus could not get you off of his mind. You consumed his every waking thought. You haunted each of his dreams. You were brilliant and quick and challenged him in ways no one else had ever dared to. You did not shy away from a challenge. That was something he always admired about you. Where others would be willing to concede that they weren’t going to agree, you would hold your ground. You would fight until your last breath. Coriolanus liked that you were firm in your convictions, even when it put you at odds with him. You were tenacious and clever and did not yield for anyone. Coriolanus valued that more than anything. And that was why he was going to do everything in his power to ensure you were his and his alone. 

You refused to make it easy for him. It would not be enough, he knew, for you to be his wife in name alone. He wanted you to be as infatuated with him as he was with you. He wanted to consume your thoughts. He wanted to haunt each of your dreams. Coriolanus had hoped that he might be able to push off such pursuits until after you were his Queen. To convince your father to give you his hand was certainly an easier task. Coriolanus had been fine with the idea of you never falling in love with him. If anything, he might have admired that more. To be so resolute that you would refuse the best of the best…It was so absurd that it was almost charming. Now, though, that he knew that you had considered loving Sejanus…Oh, that itched at him. It made his skin crawl. Sejanus Plinth was not the perfect man for a woman such as yourself. Coriolanus was not sure that such a man existed, but he was sure that he was the closest thing to it. 

Coriolanus would do anything to ensure that you never, ever, could be Lady Plinth. But he could not do that if he was late. 

When he arrived at the Plinth Manor, the ball was in full swing. Upon entering the manor, he was directed to the ballroom. Many matchmaking Mamas tried to corner him while he was in search of you, seemingly convinced that he could be easily swayed by whatever daft woman they pushed in front of him. Were they blind? Did they not understand that he would not go to all this trouble with you if he was not absolutely certain you were the perfect Queen for him? 

Finally, he spotted your father, who was his perhaps his best clue into finding you. Or, at least, it would stave off the Mamas. 

“Your Majesty!” your father greeted when he saw Coriolanus approach the group of men he was speaking to. “I was beginning to think you might not show.”

Coriolanus’s jaw ticked. He was far from pleased with his late arrival, and he despised anyone who would point it out to him. He supposed, of course, that might be where you got it from—your willingness to call him out on every little thing. But where it was charming on you, it made him want to exile your father. “I would have arrived sooner had my coachman not been insistent that he knew a shortcut. The man might as well have taken me on a tour of the Capitol.”

Your father nodded sagely. “It is quite difficult to find good help these days, is it not?”

“Almost as difficult as finding a good bride,” Festus Creed said. 

Coriolanus narrowed his eyes. How dare he! Was he making some remark about you? Something about how Coriolanus had yet to propose? Festus had a lot of audacity to think he could speak poorly of the King and his future bride and walk away unharmed. “Not for me.”

Festus’s eyes flicked to the dance floor. “Is that why she dances with another?”

Your father, too, seemed to grow frustrated with Festus. “If you are implying something about my daughter, I would suggest you hold your tongue before it is cut out.”

“Or worse,” Coriolanus said, following Festus’s gaze to the dance floor. He searched the crowd, trying to find you. Oh, why was it so hard to find you now? With all of the young ladies spinning around the floor, it was near impossible to differentiate one from the other. 

“I would think that if she was to be wed to you, she would refrain from dancing with Sejanus, is all,” Festus continued. 

Finally, with another clue, Coriolanus spotted you in the arms of his best friend. And, oh, how he saw red. Sejanus knew of Coriolanus’s worries that you might fall for his best friend, and yet he would do this to him? When had Sejanus become as audacious as Festus Creed? 

As the dance neared its end, Coriolanus said, “If you’ll excuse me,” and began to approach you. 

Sejanus, who stood a head taller than most people on the floor, spotted Coriolanus first. A smile stretched across his face as he lifted his hand to wave at Coriolanus. Coriolanus offered a tight-lipped smile. Appearances were important, and he knew that he could not afford to cause a scene here and now. If he did, he would risk pushing you even further away. 

When Coriolanus reached you and Sejanus, he turned his full attention to you. If he kept his focus on you, he would not do something he might later regret.“You danced quite beautifully,” he said. 

Your brows pinched together, like you were surprised he would compliment you. Huh. Wasn’t that interesting? If he knew that complimenting you would catch you off guard, he would have begun doing that ages ago. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” you said, your voice void of any emotion.

“Please, you can drop the formalities. Coriolanus is just fine.” He probably would have been pressing his luck if he tried to convince you to call him “Coryo.” Coriolanus would do for now, he supposed. Change cannot be easily accomplished in just a day. 

“That would be inappropriate, Your Majesty,” you said. You looked away from him, looking at the crowd that had begun to gather around you now that Coriolanus had arrived. Even when he had made clear that he only had his sights set on you, everyone else thought they could distract him. “I should like some fresh air. Excuse me.”

“Ah, perfect. I shall escort you outside. I have a present for you waiting in my carriage.”

Your brows raised. “My, my. You are intent on ruining me, aren’t you?”

“Would I really be ruining you if I plan on marrying you regardless?” Coriolanus asked. When you said nothing, he added, “If you are so concerned, bring a chaperone. But, rest assured, I will not do anything untoward. I just have a present.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and went to find your mother. After you returned with her, he escorted you outside of the manor to his carriage. For a moment, he was concerned that Sejanus might follow him. It would not have been an issue per se, but Coriolanus was growing rather annoyed at Sejanus’s presence around you. Coriolanus wanted you for himself. If he could have it his way, he would forego moving so slowly to keep up appearances in society just so he could lock you away in the palace. He knew, though, that people would think that you allowed him to defile you and, thus, think poorly of you. And a Queen’s image should never reflect poorly on the King. 

“Do I get a hint?” you asked as you held onto Coriolanus’s arm. 

“Impatient little thing, hm?” he teased. 

“For all I know, you could be ambushing me with a surprise wedding. An officiant could be waiting in the carriage.”

Coriolanus laughed. “When I marry you, I want everyone in Panem to see it. I want the entire kingdom to see the brilliant woman who will rule by my side.”

Behind him, your mother let out an aww. “Isn’t that so sweet?” she asked you. 

“No.”

Sensing that your mother was going to snap at you, Coriolanus turned his head, narrowing his eyes at your mother. Immediately, her mouth closed. He turned his head back around, satisfied that she was learning to hold her tongue. Coriolanus hated the way your mother berated you. Did she not understand that everything she chastised you for were the very things he adored? 

“Ah, here we are,” Coriolanus said when the carriage was only a few feet away. He motioned for the coachman to open the door. The coachman reached in and reemerged with a small cushion holding a fluffy, white kitten. 

In an instant, you had let go of his arm, rushing to the kitten. You picked it up and brought the kitten close to your face, pressing a kiss to its nose. “Baby!” you cooed, pressing more kisses to the fur ball. 

Pride surged through Coriolanus. He never thought that he could make you so happy with a single action like this. Perhaps he should listen to Sejanus’s advice more often. “I take it you like him then?”

“I love him!” you said. You looked up at him, a wide smile stretched across your face. Oh, what he would give to make you that happy again and again. The idea of you falling him, instead of Sejanus, suddenly felt far more tangible. He should do this more often. He couldn’t give you another kitten again, not so soon. But perhaps a book? Or maybe stationery supplies? He would have to think this over, figure out what he remembered you loving during your time at the Academy. 

“What shall you name him?”

Your smile turned into a smirk. “Coriolanus.”

That was odd, referring to him by his name. Weren’t you just insisting that that would be inappropriate? Was a kitten really enough for you to change your mind? No, that couldn’t be. You were far too firm in your resolve to do something like that. Then what were you getting at? 

“Yes?”

You giggled, a twinkle in your eye. “No. That’s his name. Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus’s (the human’s) jaw dropped. Well. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He had thought you might choose something sillier, like Fluffy or Snowball. There you go again, surprising him. 

You held the kitten up to him. “He sort of looks like you, no?”

“You are positively unhinged,” Coriolanus (the human) said. 

“Perhaps.” You began to cradle the kitten like a baby. For a flicker of a moment, he imagined you cradling your child—his child—in your arms. A boy, he thought, would be the first. Someone strong and capable of protecting the Snow family. Someone who would be a worthy heir. A girl, though, wouldn’t be horrible, either. One that had the same tenacity as you. Of course, that would be a far greater handful. “But are you not supposed to name a son after his father? At least one?”

Coriolanus (the human) laughed again. “Our son? It’s a cat.”

You stared at Coriolanus (the human) for a long moment. He began to think he might have offended you, might have ruined this moment. But then you smiled again, like you knew something he didn’t. “If you agree that Coriolanus is our first son, then I will behave. As much as I can, I mean.”

“You cannot blackmail the King—” your mother protested. 

Ugh. Coriolanus (the human) had forgotten the daft woman was still there. He could not wait to marry you and never have to deal with her again. Perhaps he could send her off to some estate far, far from the Capitol so that he may never have to see her. You wouldn’t protest too much to it, he thought. You were hardly her biggest fan either. 

“It is hardly blackmail!” you said. 

He looked to your mother, then back to you. Well, as odd a situation as this was, there was no harm in humoring you. At least not when it might make you fall in line a little easier. He took a step closer to you, his arms wrapping around you. It would make a nice portrait, he thought. You in his arms, a child in yours. He added, “And it certainly is not blackmail when she wants me to acknowledge our son.”

You looked up at him, a soft smile on your face. You said nothing, but for him, you said enough. As much as you would try to protest and argue that Sejanus was an easier man to fall in love with, Coriolanus (the human) was sure that it would be just as easy to make you fall in love with him. 

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (series) (PART NINE)

Word Count: 13.0k

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT   

A/N:

1. OVER 13,000 words. I did that. And I did it for YOU. But you can thank Linda and her latest review because its the reason I'm uploading tonight instead of tomorrow.

2. I love Bill & Frank. That is all.

3. Joel Miller is a giver. This is my HC and I will not be dissuaded.

4. NOW: This chapter contains some imagery that non-hornies might find ... intense. What I'm saying is there is smut, and my smut tends to be on the descriptive side. I have tried to tame it down for this M rating, but I kinda don't really know what the difference between M and E is. If smut really doesn't appeal to you (that's fine darlings! I ain't offended - skip to the next chapter when I update).

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Maria brings you home later that week. She attempts to help you from the car as if you're an invalid but you wave her off with a grumble. "I'm fine."

"I guess if I was Joel you'd let me help, hmmm?" Maria says lightly.

You both move towards the house but this comment causes you to stumble before you right yourself. You dart a glance out the corner of your eye at her. She’s watching your face with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that I told you I would take you to the doctor's four separate times,” Maria reasons. “Joel Miller swoops in and immediately you're in the emergency room?"

"He forced me."

"I've known you since we were teenagers," Maria says with a roll of her eyes as you enter into your suite. "No one can force you to do anything."

"He was very insistent."

"You like him."

You want to say something more but you're stopped, your eyes wide as you enter into your domain.

Twinkling Christmas lights are hanging around your bed frame, the fireplace, your window. A small artificial tree is resting in the far corner decorated with red and gold baubles. The knitted sock with your name stitched on it is hanging off the fireplace mantle. 

It's all of your Christmas items decorating your place. And your entire place has been cleaned - even the windows look clearer. It looks so beautiful in here, the kind of beautiful you’ve only seen in cards and movies.

After you'd moved in here, the thought of decorating for holidays hadn't seemed too appealing. You thought the space was too small, that your ornaments and decorations would look out of place. But it makes your space seem so homey, inviting and warm.

"Did you do this, Mar’?" 

Maria is grinning widely at your reaction. She looks around the space satisfied with her handiwork. 

"Didn't want you coming back to a messy place after being in the hospital. I know how you feel about hospitals."

You blink back tears before you gather her into a tight hug.  For the millionth time that year alone you are just so thankful that you have her in your life. If nothing else goes well for you in life, at least you can always count on Maria.

"Thank you," you say through a lump in your throat. You walk over to the electric fireplace, wanting to warm the space up. It smells delicious in here like cinnamon and fresh peppermint.

"Frank and Bill helped," Maria adds as she straightens the stocking on the mantle. "I mentioned you didn't have any Christmas lights and Frank said Bill had tons so, they came over yesterday and helped string them up."

Your heart, already softened, thumps with affection. Imagining the men from next door coming to do that just for you makes you feel overwhelmed with gratitude. 

"That's so sweet," you say making a mental note to buy them a bottle of wine or something as thanks. As for Maria, you need to make sure her Christmas gift is perfect.

"Wasn't my idea about doing the Christmas stuff though," Maria adds with a glance over at you, gauging your reaction to the next sentence. "That was all Joel. Called me and said it'd probably cheer you up." 

You school your features into a sweet smile and look over to her. She's standing with her hands on her hips, a brow raised and her full lips curled.

"Bless him," you say with a tone of 'aw shucks' and go back to the fireplace. 

Before you can say anything more there's a rap at the door.  Frank and Bill are whispering loudly to one another as you both draw over to it. Bill is muttering about Frank's cholesterol and Frank is telling Bill to hush up. You and Maria exchange amused looks and giggles before you open the door.

Frank is holding a plate of some divine smelling baked good while Bill just stands looking awkwardly around, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Just the sight of them makes tears prickle your eyes.

"You two!" you say before throwing your arms around both their necks. Frank laughs, holding you with one arm while Bill just stand there and tolerates the embrace. 

"We heard you two coming in and wanted to make sure you're feeling better," Frank says after you pull back.

"Much."

"Thanks to Joel forcing her to go to the hospital," Maria says flashing a meaningful look to Frank that you don't see. You also don't see when he returns it with a subtle smile. Frank can see the way you’re avoiding both their eyes and decides to change the subject.

“We also wanted to tell you both that we’re throwing a Christmas party.”

“Holiday Party,” Bill corrects. “Christmas is nothing but a-“

“Whatever we’re calling it, it’s happening in two weeks so make sure you’re free,” Frank interrupts with a wide grin. "We want it to be a real good one so invite your friends. Maria, invite your man Tommy of course. Oh and invite that brother we've been hearing so much about, and his little girl."

Your stomach flips. Joel and Frank are actually going to meet one another? Frank is the only one who knows about that night. And you know he’s got his suspicions about the two of you.

“Of course!” Maria nods enthusiastically.

“It’ll be a nice one too,” Frank tells you both seriously. “Classy. No jeans and sweaters.”

His look at you lingers, knowing you’re not the best when it comes to dressing up for events. You give a lighthearted push to his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.”

They leave a short while later after giving you the dessert (homemade pecan pie!). You and Maria decide there’s no better time than the present to dig in and do so right there, standing in the kitchen with forks in hand.

“Hope Joel can make it to the party,” Maria says casually. So casually you don’t even know you’re being watched and led right back into a discussion you thought you’d avoided previously. You nod, your eyes on the dessert she’s holding between you.

“Mhmm.”

"You know if you did like him it would be okay, right?" Maria hedges, watching you take a bite of the dessert. "That me and Tommy would support it?"

This gives you a momentary pause before you remember exactly why you can't be with Joel. And while some if it is has to do with your best friend standing across from you, the large majority of it is Sarah. You can't do that to her. You can't come into her life just to leave when things don't work out with her dad. 

"I really don't, Maria," you insist, internally congratulating yourself with how confident you sound. "He's really nice and I really like being his friend. I adore Sarah. It's just not like that with us."

Maria looks around your suite, taking in the glowing lights that hang all around, the small tree with its colorful baubles. She takes stock of all of this before replying to you. 

"Does Joel know that?" 

///

Joel and Tommy are on one of the job sites and Joel is in a terrible fucking mood. Sarah is in the corner of the room, sniffling and reading one of her picture books.

“You okay babygirl?” Joel calls over to her. She responds with a big smile and nod before going back to her book. His little girl never complains, even when she’s green around the gills like she is today. According to Tess, Daniel’s also really sick, something going around at the daycare they both attend.

Sarah’s had the cold the last few days and that means Joel has gotten no sleep since then. Because you’re not around he also doesn’t have any reliable child care, so poor Sarah has been carted from site to site all day today because he and Tommy are under a strict deadline from Kathleen.

Despite Tommy living with Joel in his basement, he rarely sees his brother anymore. The younger Miller is constantly off with Maria or he’s talking about Maria or he’s thinking about her (Joel can tell by the far-off look he gets). And most of the time this doesn’t bother Joel.

Lately however? It fucking infuriates him.

Tommy has always gotten what he wants. Joel started this company from the ground up and Tommy had joined when it was already becoming successful. Tommy had spent most of his twenties fucking around while Joel bailed him out time and time again. Tommy got to find the perfect woman and fall in love. Tommy never truly works for anything.

This is in his mind when Tommy’s phone goes off in his pocket and Joel has no patience reserved for his brother.

“Leave it,” Joel growls, intent on finishing up quickly.

“It’s Maria, hey baby,” Tommy greets with a smile. He goes to light a cigarette which Joel promptly scowls at. Tommy frowns at his brother, pocketing the cigarette before going back to the conversation. “Uh huh, yeah. Just finishing up here.”

Joel can hear the chatter of Maria on the other end of the phone but he can’t decipher what she’s saying. He doesn’t care, he has to make sure that this-

“She’s home now? Good, I know you said she hated the hospital,” Tommy says, his hands going to measure the drywall even as he talks. Joel’s own hands still on the wood he’s been cutting, pausing as he realizes what Tommy’s saying.

You’re home.

Joel pretends not to listen as he prepares the drywall, but his head is tilted so he can catch what his younger brother is saying.

“Yeah, pneumonia’s brutal. Uh huh. Yeah, ‘course.”

When did you get home? Today? Should he go over?

Joel cannot think of anything else. He has not been able to get you out of his head and if he's honest with himself he's not trying. He likes you living in his thoughts. 

No. Stupid. He shouldn’t want you in his thoughts. You don’t want him.

Why would he go over to see you? He’s got a sick Sarah to think about. Plus what would be his excuse? No, he needs to give you space. You ran from him when he tried to touch you, and that was the clear indication that you two are meant to be friends.

Just friends.

There are worse things to be; Joel decides as he nails the drywall to the plank he and Tommy have raised, he just can’t think of any now. In fact, thoughts of just being your friend are putting him in a decidedly shitty mood.

He needs to stay away from you. He needs to ignore this flame that starts up when he’s near you. He needs to stop pursuing something that isn’t going to happen. He needs to stop thinking about you in the way you will never think of him.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy says, lowering the phone to his shoulder. “Enough nails!”

In a daze Joel looks to the drywall he’s hammered, frowning to see it dented in areas from over pounding. Tommy goes back to his phone, shaking his head at his suddenly distracted brother.

“Yeah he’s here, why?” Tommy glances over to Joel, listening before speaking over to him. “Joel, you wanna go to a Christmas party? You and Sarah? Maria’s neighbors invited all of us. Next Saturday.”

Joel frowns and shakes his head. He doesn’t feel like a party right now. He feels like going to sleep. Between the additional jobs Miller Construction has taken on and his sick daughter he can’t imagine doing anything other than sleeping for the next month.

And he knows that if it’s Maria’s neighbors throwing the party then you’ll be there. You’ll be there and he can’t see you right now. He needs a break. He needs a few weeks to just get his head on straight so he can stop thinking about you in a way that makes his pants grow tight.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Tommy says into the phone, his voice dropping. “But yeah ‘course I’ll come.”

“I wanna go to a party!” Sarah shouts from her corner of the room, her little voice raspy. “Daddy, please!”

Joel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.”

///

You keep replaying Maria’s words in your head.

“Does Joel know?”

No.  He doesn’t because it’s all a fucking lie.

You want Joel Miller more than you want most things in this world which includes than the ability to eat heaps of chocolate without gaining weight, and that’s saying something. 

But what you want doesn’t matter. It’s not about you.

You need to keep your distance from him. He’s not for you. He’s a lovely man with a lovely daughter. Their connection to you is strong precisely because you are not dating Joel. You can’t risk losing him. Losing him means losing Sarah.

You can’t lose them.

But still, that selfish desperate feeling of connection with him is what you crave. It pulses in your mind, your heart and you can’t stop yourself from calling him later that night. The phone buzzes and you wait, almost chickening out before he answers.

“’Lo?”

His voice is rough and sleepy sounding. You dart a look to your watch to see that it’s almost ten at night. Phone manners dictate that you’re impossibly rude calling him this late and you hold in a frustrated sound.

“Fuck. Were you asleep?”

You hear Joel clear his throat and you can imagine him sitting up on his sofa, his eyes sleepy. “Just napping.”

You don’t believe him, but you’re not going to say it. You’re standing in your kitchen but you walk over to the sofa in front of the fireplace, feeling antsy.

“Hey, so,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks flush. “I just wanted. . . Thank you for taking me to the doctors.”

“Of course,” Joel says as if there was never a choice in the matter. “Next time maybe you’ll listen to me before the emergency room is needed.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle dig but then you remember the initial purpose of your call.

“Also, the place looks great and uh, Maria said it was your idea? The lights and everything?”

“You seem like the type that likes to celebrate things,” Joel replies and you’re convinced you can hear the smile in his voice. “Thought it’d make you smile.”

Jesus, Joel. Stop making it impossible for me not to want you.

“Yeah well… I loved it.”

“I’m glad.”

He sounds glad. He really does and that makes your stomach flip.

“How’ve you been?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to punch a pillow. You sound so stilted, so awkward. You can hear the smile slide from his voice.

“Not great. Sarah caught a cold-“

From you.

You made Sarah sick.

You’ve given that sweet, tiny child pneumonia. Immediately your stomach drops.

“No! Please, tell me not from-“

“No, not from you,” Joel reassures you. “She’s in daycare and about six other kids have the same bug. Getting sick is just part of the deal there. Gonna keep her home the next little bit though. After seeing you in the hospital I’m a little paranoid ‘bout what’s going around.”

“Of course.” You think about her sweet little face. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay outta hospitals?”

You both laugh lightly at that and you feel your pulse slow. Hearing Joel laugh has a strange, soothing affect on you. It makes you close your eyes as you lean against the shelf on your wall, feeling warm all over.

“She wants to make sure she’s better for the party,” Joel adds almost shyly after a beat.  “The one your neighbors are throwin’?”

“I’m glad you're coming,” you answer honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” you say quickly. “It’s gonna be fun. Frank and Bill make the best food…”

You continue on like this, enthusing about the party. Joel interjects with his own ideas on what makes for a perfect party and before long an hour and a half has passed and you’ve talked about everything around the topic of parties and Christmas. You hear Joel try to stifle a yawn on the other end of the phone as he tells you about what he’s planning to get Sarah for Christmas and you smile.

“I better let you go. G’night Miller.”

“’Night. See ya at the party.”

///

You knock hurriedly on Frank’s door as you smooth down your hair.  Maria and Tommy have already arrived at the party because they are the kind of beautiful, shiny people that are on time for things while you are the kind of woman who stumbles into a party late but waving.

You’re weighted down with bags full of gifts for everyone.

You wait for Frank to open the door, pull you into a tight hug and welcome you in. You're surprised when instead it's Sarah pulling open the door. One hand is on the doorknob, the other in her father's hand. 

Universe, please give me a break.

You haven’t seen Joel since the hospital and right now he looks so good it should be illegal. Dark slacks and a deep green button up. He’s forgone the tie, leaving the first two buttons at his throat undone. His hair is brushed, and he's half crouched so he can hold Sarah's hand. He looks up as you enter, his eyes strangely guarded.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say softly before remembering yourself and looking down at Sarah.  "Hey bug, you look gorgeous as always. I must get the name of your stylist."

Sarah is dressed in a bright red velvet dress. Her hair is in its natural loose coils with tiny red bows at the temples. She looks like an absolute doll come to life. 

She smiles shyly; her dimpled cheek a mirror of her father's, before looking over your dress as you shrug off your coat. Frank had made it clear that this party was a fancy one. None of your jeans and sweaters.

So you'd bought an off the shoulder dark green dress that made you feel sophisticated and holiday theme appropriate. 

"You look like a princess," Sarah informs you with eyes that are filled with stars. 

You smile and murmur your thanks, flushing when you feel Joel's eyes on you. You can’t let your eyes to settle on him so you look past him to the sea of old and new faces gathered around the piano. Some old lady is playing something festive while a group of exuberant party-goers sing off-key.

You reach into one of the bags you’ve brought before producing a parcel with shiny purple wrapping. You hold it out to Sarah who takes it with an excited squeak. 

"No opening until Christmas," you insist. When you see her start to pout you hold back a grin, reaching into your bag again and producing a small wrapped item. “But you can open this one now.”

Joel watches as Sarah tears open the paper to reveal a chocolate reindeer in a foil package. She smiles giddily at the treat before holding it to her father and asking him to open it. He does so with a soft smile. Sarah takes a bite as you consider your next moves, wincing and then you reach into your bag and with a deep inhale shove a small parcel at Joel. 

"Same goes for you," you laugh breathily. "No opening until Christmas."

It’s nothing that great. Just a pick and a new strap for his guitars. Neither of which he has asked for. Neither of which he needs or probably even wants. He doesn’t even play them anymore.

It’s just that when you were shopping for Sarah earlier that week you’d passed a music shop. Something had given you pause and you walked in, listening to the gentle lull of the shop’s holiday music, letting your fingers trace the pearlescent picks until you’d found one the perfect shade of ochre that just felt like Joel when you saw it. 

The strap had been a last minute addition because giving Joel a single guitar pick seemed really stupid the more you thought about it. You’d picked a buttery feeling leather one the same color as his eyes.

“Thanks,” Joel says looking surprised and a little bit uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect a gift.”

You hadn’t expected him to get you anything so it’s not that which makes you uneasy. It’s that the sweet Joel you’ve gotten to know the last few weeks has been replaced by his quiet, withdrawn doppelganger.

You don’t know what else to say so you attempt to move past the two of them into the roar of the party when Sarah stops you with one tiny hand on yours.

"Mistletoe!" Sarah says through a mouthful of chocolate, pointing to the plant above your heads in the door frame. Joel looks stricken and you try to hold in your shock at the sight of it. 

"Jesus," Joel mutters. "Where did that come from?"

"Frank," Sarah cries enthusiastically.

You stare at Sarah in confusion at this. "Why-" 

"You have to kiss her, daddy," Sarah says clapping her tiny hands in delight and looking from Joel's face to yours expectantly. “You kiss people under mistletoe. Frank told me.”

No fucking way.

You don’t want to kiss Joel.

Scratch that, you desperately want to kiss Joel.

You desperately want to kiss him because his mouth looks so soft and you just know deep in your bones that he’d kiss so perfectly. You want to kiss him because just being in Joel's eye-line makes your body tingle. You want to kiss Joel because you really, really like him.

But Joel looks really, really uncomfortable at the thought of kissing you right now. More uncomfortable that you at this point and for some reason this makes you feel awful, even though you feel the same.

He’s also staring at you with this look you haven’t seen in so long from him. This dark pile of bricked up wall that insists you stay on your side. It makes you physically take a step back, suddenly unsure of whom it is you’re looking at.

"C'mere babygirl," Joel says bringing a squealing Sarah into his arms and pressing a peck to her cheek. 

You feel immense relief at this diversion, smiling over at Sarah and backing away from the offensive plant. Sarah is complaining to her dad that he was supposed to kiss you, but you sidle past them and go towards the party.

The music is gliding over the crowd of festive attendees. Everyone is dressed beautifully and not surprisingly Tommy and Maria are stunning. Tommy has left off the baseball cap and he’s clean shaven. He dresses similarly to his brother, but his shirt is a deep burgundy that matches Maria’s slinky dress perfectly.

It occurs to you belatedly that you and Joel have picked similar shades to wear this evening. You will yourself not to cringe over that fact.

“You look stunning,” you tell them both, holding Maria’s hands in yours. The three of you chat for a bit, amazed at the decorations and the food spread of this party. You idly wonder how Bill is handling all this attention and frivolity in his home.

“I don’t know how Bill is surviving all of this,” Maria giggles as if reading your mind.

Frank and Bill’s place is by no means small, but with the group of people it’s packed with and the decorations it feels cramped. You note that the tasteful decorations right out of a magazine.

A few kids a bit older than Sarah are at the gingerbread cookie decorating station (of course Frank thought of that), some are gathered around the piano, and some are watching a holiday movie in the other room.

Frank swoops in wearing the gaudiest green suit covered in candy canes that you’ve ever seen. Strangely enough he pulls it off. He presses a kiss to your cheek and says he’s so glad you came and dressed in something not covered in animal hair. He tells you to mingle before moving onto the couple who has entered after you.

Your eyes fall onto your other host and you hold back a laugh. Bill has been forced into slacks and a black sweater with a snowflake design. His hair has been brushed back and Frank forced him to trim his beard.

When you approach him you realize now how Bill is surviving all this chaos. He's absolutely tanked. His cheeks are red and he's smirking intermittently behind his wineglass.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” Bill says with a crisp tinge to the ‘s’.  “I love strangers in my home eating my food and touching my shit.”

There’s no malice there, only amusement. You watch as the party swells with more people of all ages, the music loud and the night beautiful. Seeing all these happy faces dressed so beautifully in the soft glow of winter decorations makes you feel cozy.

When Sarah enters into the room you take her by the hand and insist the two of you decorate a gingerbread cookie together. She is only too happy to do so, squealing in excitement and tugging you towards the messy table.

Joel watches the two of you and feels a pang in his chest.

Coming to this party was a terrible idea. How could spending more time with you make him want you less? Especially when you’re dressed like that? You’re kneeling beside the child’s table, squeezing icing onto Sarah’s cookie. Joel holds in a moan when you lean forward to place the sprinkles and his eyes are drawn to the swell of your breasts.

He needs to stop wanting you.

He needs to do something drastic.

You and Maria are nibbling on the cheese spread later that night when Joel approaches you, tapping you on the shoulder. You turn, surprised to see him looking at you agitated. He shifts from foot to foot slowly, his shoulders tensed.

Something’s wrong.

Maria seems to sense this too because she tells you both she needs to find Tommy even though you both know he’s over with Sarah and the other kids playing some reindeer ring toss game. You swallow your cracker, wincing as it scratches your throat going down.

“What’s up?”

"I can't accept this," Joel says shoving your gift back into your hand. You stare down at it, the small rectangular gift; a present you had wrapped twice because the first time you had decided it wasn’t good enough.

"Why not?"

"I just - I can't," Joel grumbles. 

You feel everything in your body go cold. What happened? What did you do wrong? You take the gift back, holding it in your palm and feeling humiliated.

“I don’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t be right to take it. I didn’t get you anything.”

"I didn’t expect a gift from you,” you insist, trying to hold in the tremor starting in your voice. “You're not gonna make Sarah give hers back too are you?"

"No. Course not."

"Then why-"

A loud cheer sounds from the other side of the room, drawing your attention over Joel’s shoulder because someone has convinced Bill to play the piano. 

Deciding that you don’t want to talk about this topic anymore with Joel, you move past him to stand near the crowd gathering at the piano. You watch fascinated as your usually reclusive neighbor taps a few of the ivory notes, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Everyone shut up. I’m going to play,” Bill announces his face pink and his hair going wild at the temples. Frank is coming to stand near you, his face open in wonder at the sight of his normally quiet husband commanding the room. Several voices pop up suggesting songs for Bill.

“Play Jingle Bells!”

“Away in a Manger!”

“The twelve days of Christmas!”

“None of that shit!” Bill insists with a scowl as he places his fingers on the keys. “I’m gonna play you all the song that made Frank fall in love with me.”

You hear Frank take a sharp intake of breath, his hand going to rest at his sternum as he watches Bill. You feel your mouth hitching into a smile as you watch your dear neighbor’s eyes fill with tears at the first notes played.

“Love will abide Take things in stride Sounds like good advice But there's no one at my side And time washes clean love's wounds unseen That's what someone told me But I don't know what it means”

Bill is by no means a professional singer but you can’t explain the spell cast when he sings. His voice normally harsh is more muted when he sings, soft and unsure of itself. It makes the song feel intimate, like it was made for them to sing and hear alone.

“Caught in my fears Blinking back the tears I can't say you hurt me When you never let me near And I never drew one response from you All the while you fell all over girls you never knew”

You’ve heard this song before you think. One that your Mom used to play when you were little. But you’ve never really listened to the lyrics and they’re heartbreaking. This is the song Frank fell for Bill over?

Maria is a few steps away from you, shooting you a surprised look. She was obviously not prepared for this side of her neighbor either. Bill continues, his fingers moving deftly over the piano keys in a way that is so graceful and at odds with how you view him.

“Wait for the day you'll go away Knowing that you warned me Of the price I'd have to pay And life's full of flaws Who knows the cause? Living in the memory of a love that never was”

You sneak a glance at Frank to see his eyes are wet with tears, some of which have slipped down his cheek. Yet he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the burly man who sings with abandon, his blue eyes shut lightly.

“'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long long time”.

Bill’s eyes open to land on Frank as the song concludes and it’s like the room collectively sighs in adoration. 

The applause is gentle but warm. You glance around to see a lot of misty eyes, Maria is dabbing the corner of her eyes with a napkin and Tommy is biting the inside of his lower lip so hard you think he might be drawing blood.

Joel is nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, you can all leave," Frank jokes to the room before making his way to Bill. 

The crowd laughs and you watch as Frank leans over the piano to press his lips to his husband's waiting ones. Bills eyes flutter shut as he returns the kiss, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile under his beard.

They pull back and the open adoration in both their gazes takes your breath away.

That’s love.

You're surprised to feel your own eyes burning at the sweet sight accompanied by a wave of melancholy that washes over you. It morphs into a selfish, clawing ugliness that makes you back away from the crowd and leave the room, needing to go somewhere quiet.

You need to be away from everyone.

You move into one of the rooms off the hall, quiet and dark and realize instantly that its Frank’s paining studio, a place you rarely venture into. Like Bill, Frank is a bit protective over his things, though he’d never admit it.

An easel with a half-painted portrait of Bill sits in the corner. A wall of well organized oil paint implements greets you as you enter into the space. The floor is wood and your heels click over it as you move to observe the large windows leading out into the dark of the night.

A plain grey sofa sits at the far wall and you collapse into it, letting your head hang. It’s not long before you’re cupping your face in your hands and crying softly.

This is the first Christmas without Paul. Your first Christmas not going home. And while you don't regret either of the decisions that lead you to these ends, you can't help but feel a little sad for yourself. 

Poorly paying job, no car, no real apartment to speak of. Single. Last guy you dated was a coke head. Obsessed with a guy you’re pretty sure currently hates you for reasons you aren’t even privy to. The list is looking pretty grim. 

Your gift for Joel is placed beside you, only adding to your misery. You don’t hear the half-opened door being pushed completely. You only hear the rough timbre of the last person you want to see right now.

“Are you okay’?”

You immediately stiffen, wiping at your face with your hands when Joel enters the room, closing the door behind him.  You don’t bother answering him, hoping that if you twist away from him he’ll get the message to leave.

The room is cloaked in semi-darkness, the only light coming from the glowing lights along the outside of the house. It bathes you and Joel in a softness that belies how prickly you’re currently feeling.

“Is this because of the gift thing?” Joel asks, looking guiltily between you and the present sitting next to you on the sofa.

“No,” you snap, embarrassed at being caught in such a state. “Not everything is about you, Joel.”

He turns to leave, realizing that coming in here was a terrible idea. For some reason something is bubbling within you, an overarching anger that makes you stumble up from the sofa and over to the door that Joel is attempting to open.

You push it closed, squeezing between he and it.

“What is your problem with me all of a sudden?” you demand, your eyes blazing as you look up at him.

“N-nothin’” Joel stammers, looking strangely wild-eyed.

“Then why are you acting so weird tonight?” you insist, not even realizing that you’re moving forward as Joel steps back to get away from you.

“I’m not-“

“You are so! Why won’t you accept my gift?” you snarl. “I’ve always accepted everything you’ve given me with thanks.”

“Not everything.” It jumps out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Your hands are at your sides in angry fists that loosen when he says this.

“What?”

“Gimme space,” Joel rasps out at you, his eyes travelling the entire circumference of your face as you stare up at him in confusion.

You don’t realize when you crowded Joel against the wall, but you have. You step back immediately before you shake your head in disgust, throwing yourself back onto the sofa. His present is there and just the sight of it makes your anger rise again.

“Just keep the fucking gift Joel,” you snap, throwing the parcel at his feet. “Stop acting childish.”

Joel had been about to duck out of the room, his large hand on the doorknob once more. But at the sound of the gift hitting the floor beside his feet and your guttural insult he stops abruptly.

You can almost hear the moment that he goes from concerned to furious.

“I’m acting childish?” Joel counters, throwing himself into a kneeling position on the sofa next to you. One of his wide hands is on the back of it, the other palm on the arm of the sofa that you’re now pressed back against. He’s caged you in and up this close you can see the vein at the side of his throat ticking angrily.

“You’re the one who ran away from me and then never returned my phone calls.”

The shame you feel is immediate. There it is, the truth laid bare. It makes you feel panicked and you realize that you and Joel have swapped emotions seamlessly. Because now you feel cornered and terrified and Joel looks absolutely incensed.

His dark eyes are boring into yours, his mouth inches from your face as he breathes, his warm breath buffeting your cheeks. You can see his teeth are clenched angrily.

“We already talked about this, Joel.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head sharply. “No, we didn’t. I tried to make it easy on us by not pushing it. But I’m done pretending that I don’t want you.”

Your eyes blow wide. Did you hear him right?

“Not as a friend, not as a babysitter,” Joel continues his tone harsh despite the sweetness of his words. “I want you for my own.”

“Joel,” you plead in a whisper.

Fuck. You want him so badly.

“I wanna take care of you,” Joel insists, his eyes morphing from furious to completely undone. “But I can’t do that if you won’t be honest with me. You ran from me that night and I wanna know why.”

You can’t keep looking at his face or into his eyes. It’s too intense. You close your eyes, wincing as you say the words you tried to hide. It’s too late to tell Joel the lie that you just want to be friends. It’s too late to pretend like he doesn’t do something to your insides. It’s all too late.

You have to be honest.

“I was scared,” you admit, your cheeks blazing. Joel’s eyebrows saddle as he looks down at you.

“Of me?”

“No,” you shake your head, tsk-ing that he would ever think that. “Of what it would mean.”

Joel seems to be calming because his jaw loosens and he nods, moving back from his looming over you.

“Sarah.”

“Yeah, Sarah.”

The two of you lapse into silence, unsure of what to say next. Joel has retreated now, just sitting next to you on the sofa in the quiet and you shift to a seated position, your eyes cracking open. Your heart still races though, and you’re unable to stop looking at him. Even now, flushed and defeated he’s striking.

“There is something here isn’t there?” Joel says gently, his imploring eyes turned on to you. “Something strong… I’m not imagining it?”

Your heart literally squeezes when he says that. You have to close your eyes again and steady your breathing because right now anything you say will be a stammering mess. He’s right there is something here, something strong. And it terrifies you. Not just because of Sarah.

"Yes there is," you finally answer, feeling the flush rise through your body. “You’re not imagining it.”

Joel’s eyes read relief at this and you feel a stab of guilt knowing that he’s carried around this confusion for so long.

“But still probably not a good idea,” you finish lamely.

Joel doesn’t reply, but you can see him absorbing this information. Joel’s eyes often give him away, but in the semi darkness you’re not quite sure what he’s thinking. You can’t get a read on if he’s upset and angry or just dejected and accepting.

You can hear the sound of the party raging outside, muffled from the closed door.

“I should get back,” Joel announces quietly, making a move to shove off the sofa and stand. He pauses when your hand flies to his wrist, your fingers pressing gently there. His dark eyes dart to your face, but your eyes are on his mouth.

You don't want him to leave. You want to stay in his space. You want to breathe the same air. You want him to touch you.

I’m done pretending that I don’t want you.

You want him so badly it dwarfs the fears and anxieties you’ve carried with you. This palpable need is so intense that it makes every other emotion seem insignificant.

You can't help it.  Joel Miller is just so beautiful and his words keep curling around your heart.

I want you for my own.

You don't even realize you've shifted forward and tilted against him until your palms land on his broad chest for purchase. You hear him take a shuddering inhale before your lips press firmly against his soft mouth. 

Immediately his hands are wrapping around you, holding you to him tightly. One hand moves to lie gently astride your neck, thumb resting on your jaw. The other is banding around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

The sensation of his lips shocks you, half because you never thought he'd return it so immediately.

The kiss is gentle and sweet and you wish he never had walked into this room because now that you know what it's like to kiss Joel Miller, nothing else will ever come close. 

This is the kiss to which all others will be compared.

Then its intensity picks up, and you feel yourself being pushed back to lie on the sofa. His hands are sliding along your body and yours are carding through his curls as he groans gently. Your thighs squeeze his midsection as he moves between them, his body heavy and warm atop yours. 

You crack your eyes open to see his staring down at you.

You hold in a whimper. He's just so delicious. Your mouth finds his again, your body arching against his. Your dress has ridden up and you can feel him there lengthening under his slacks, his clothed member pressing directly against your core.

Your eyes blow wide at this sensation and you pull back from his mouth,

Being here kissing him feels so impossibly right but so terrifyingly serious. Like a spotlight shone on you and all your insecurities you've ever had about the two of you together. Every concern you’ve ever had suddenly springs up, overwhelming you. It makes Joel search your face, seeing the anxiety overtaking your features. When the haze of lust is overtaken by a very unwelcome rationality, you feel your stomach hollowing in panic. 

It makes you want to run. 

"No," Joel insists gently, as if he can read your mind, his wide hand spanning over your sternum and holding you there. "You're not runnin’ again."

Joel wants to keep kissing you. From the feel of your full lip under his fingertip weeks ago to your mouth on his seconds ago, this is all he has thought about. Seeing you in that dress tonight, watching your face go from furious to completely lusty just now?  Having you hold him between your legs? It's heaven.

You look so good right now. Your hair is dishevelled and your mouth full and reddened from his ministrations. You look like you're ready to be fucked and Joel desperately wants to oblige but he can also see the wild look expanding in your eyes, like a skittering rabbit.

He can feel your heartbeat under his fingertips and he dips his mouth to yours for what he hopes is a reassuring kiss.

"We don't have to do anything more," he murmurs as he pulls his face back. "I'll stop touching you right now if you say the word. But you're not running again. Not from me." 

He's not going to move again until you do. 

You didn't really want to run from Joel Miller. Not now, not ever. It's just that wild fight or flight in your brain that insists you close off yourself to the potential hurt. Was it really Sarah this whole time that was holding you back? Or that secret part of you, the one that believes you’ll be abandoned?

You don’t know anymore.

"Joel," you start to say you should stop. That you’ve already gone too far. That this entire thing is a bad idea. Your hands fly to his broad shoulders because you're going to push him off of you. 

Except you don't. 

Your hands keep grazing up his shoulder and moving to wrap around his neck, pulling his face back down to meet yours. And now with this silent admission of desire, Joel unravels. His voice becomes tight, grainy and he murmurs what you think is: "So fucking beautiful."

You're not sure you heard him right, and if you did you don't know what to say to that. Your eyes are fixed on his full mouth. His lower lip is so full, so inviting you want to nibble on it. 

Then his mouth is on yours again and now you're clutching at him, trying to remain calm even as his tongue sweeps between the seam of your lips your thighs tremble around his midsection.

Where did he learn to kiss like this? If it was Michelle I’m sending her flowers.

It's not fair, you decide as he begins licking into your mouth desperately, one hand on the architecture of your jaw, the other spread wide against your lower back. It's not fair that one person should be so handsome, so strong and so good at kissing. 

"This is what I wanted to do that night," Joel rasps against your mouth.  You moan as his mouth moves to your jaw because you wanted him to do more that night. He’s got you pressed so tightly into the sofa you’re concerned you’re going become one with the cushions.

"Want you so fucking much," he murmurs. His mouth moves to skim along your jaw and you shiver as his wide palms travel along your body, brushing your tits through your dress. You arch as his thumbs brush over the peaks of your nipples through the dress.

Your arms are around his neck and you're clinging to him because you don’t want to let Joel go. Not now. Not ever. He's hovering over you, one forearm holding him up while his free hand goes to cup you through the fabric.  

"Christ," Joel moans, his head dropping to kiss along your bared clavicle. His hands are kneading your breasts through the flimsy fabric. A distant part of you is realizing what's going to happen if he keeps going. You’re going to let him fuck you right here on this sofa in the middle of a bustling party.

“Joel, I . . . “ you trail off because you don’t know exactly what you need, you just know it involves Joel and his touch.

"Need to -" Joel's murmur trails off. He makes a grunting noise low in his throat, pulling down the neckline of your dress with ease to expose your bra.

You don't even care if he rips the dress, you'll buy a new one.  But then you realize with a wince that he’s now revealed the cheap bra you always wear. A part of you internally screams at your poor choice of underclothes because in them you don't feel particularly alluring but Joel's eyes are almost black with desire.

He tugs down the dress and pushes you up and out of the cups of your bra, his eyes fixed on your bared chest in the near darkness. It causes your arms to go to your side, fixed there by the tight fabric. Joel takes his time, blowing gently on your nipple and sighing when it puckers further under the sensation.

"Fucking perfect," he murmurs before lowering his mouth to begin sucking on one hardened nipple as his fingers pluck and graze the other. The result is electric, like shots of fire going through your body, starting at your breasts. You grip the back of his neck for purchase the best you can, holding back the moan that threatens to escape you. 

You arch along the arm of the sofa as Joel's hips hold yours in place. He's grinding against you, the feel of his thick, warm member very apparent even through his slacks. 

"Joel," you sigh because that's all you can formulate in the moment. He makes a deep groaning noise before pulling off your nipple with a pop and moving his mouth back to yours. Your hands tangle in his tousled hair as you kiss him back fervently. Your bared chest rasps against the buttons on his shirt.

You love kissing Joel.

God, his mouth, his tongue. His hand is sliding to your throat while your hands are skimming the front of his shirt, your fingers itching to undo his buttons. You want to feel the warm skin of his torso. You want him in your mouth. His hands are going to curl around the waistband of your panties, his breathing erratic.

“Need it,” he moans softly in your ear. “Please let me taste you.”

You are boneless when he says those words. His voice is so low and velvety and despite the fact that he posed the question, it’s you who feels uncertain. His mouth is on yours again and he’s tugging at your panties.

He’s going to fuck you right here on this sofa in the middle of a party. With everything in your power you pull back from his seeking lips.  

"W-we should stop. Anyone could walk in."

He pulls back, his body aching against yours. You try to focus on his face but you feel like you're head is swimming. Joel glances at your mouth as if considering kissing you again. But instead he nods and brushes a hand against your cheek before pushing himself up and out from between your legs.

He leans back up and you follow suit, dragging your dress back up over your chest. Joel seems deflated at that. You can’t seem to make your brain work because Joel sitting there with his hair tousled from your hands and his mouth all swollen. You know you wanted to stop but right now you’re forgetting why. It seems like Joel’s handsome face is too impossible not to focus on.

"We need to talk," Joel murmurs. And you know what he means. If this is going to work you need to talk about this.  This is a huge step for both of you.  It shakes you from your lusty focus and you nod.

"Yeah," you agree. 

“Your place?”

“Sure.”

"I'm gonna tell Tommy to take Sarah home." 

"Okay."

“And you’re not gonna run?”

You glance up at Joel’s face when he says that, his voice tight and his eyes impossibly vulnerable. There is so much reflected in Joel Miller’s dark eyes, these wide open galaxies that pull you in. Right now they show hurt and concern and this deep, deep need.

Your hand comes to cup his bristled cheek and you hold in a sigh when he leans into your palm, his eyes falling shut. A look of peace has overtaken his usually stern features, smoothing them into the face of a man surrendered.

It makes it imperative to cup his other cheek and move your mouth over his, kissing him gently and reverently, as if you can transfer all your affection and care for him through the action before pulling back.

“I’m not gonna run.”

He smiles at you in a crooked way that makes your heart skip before he quickly stands and moves out the door of the studio, closing it softly behind him. 

What just fucking happened?

You sit there catching your breath for a moment before forcing yourself to a stand. Your entire body is shuddering, like you're getting over a fever. You make your way out of the room because you need more of Joel. You need his hands on your body and you need his tongue in your mouth and-

"Not your type, huh?"

You’re immediately startled when a voice reaches out to you. You glance over to see a very amused Frank looking at you from the top stairs of the basement. He's holding a new bottle of wine and looking decidedly too smug. 

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

You scowl at him harshly, about to say something when Joel reappears wearing his jacket and holding yours. Your face immediately morphs into a stupid, dazed sort of smile when he grins at you.

“Ready?”

You nod, pulling on your jacket and feeling your heart kick as he takes your hand in his, leading you to the front door.

You don’t even notice Frank holding in laughter before going to rejoin the party. 

You’re thankful that the rest of the party is in the main room, leaving you both to escape undetected.

As you walk the short distance to your place the ache between your legs is staggering. You feel giddy and anticipatory as he scissors his long legs across the grass, his eyes fixed on the darkness in front of you, navigating you both safely to your door.

He drops your hand only so you can pull out your keys to unlock your door. Why did you fucking lock it tonight of all nights?

Joel’s arms are crossed loosely as he leans against the door watching you fumble with your keys. For some reason you’re having trouble making your hand and brain move. Those soulful eyes of his dart from the lock to your face.

Cupid's bow couldn't have struck harder than Joel Miller's eyes in that moment. They're glazed with fear and guilt mixed desperately together and you see it mixed up with open lust when he speaks softly. 

"Do you still want-"

He doesn't even get the sentence out because you've launched yourself at him, your arms instinctively going to wrap around his neck. His mouth comes crashing into yours, the deep relief of your reciprocation clear in the way he holds you to him. 

He's got you pressed against your front door with his pelvis, his broad frame dwarfing you as you fumble with the knob at your spine. You kiss him with abandon, your hand continuing to scramble over the handle before you feel Joel pull back. 

You crack your eyes open to see him smirking down at you. (How have you never noticed how impossibly sexy he is when he does that?) He moves his right hand from the side of your neck to the knob, turning and pushing the door open. 

You're about to say something self deprecating about how you're normally an expert at door opening, but then Joel's hands are on either side of your jaw and his lips are on yours again and - fuck, you can't think straight, your mind is consumed with this beautiful man kissing you so well. 

Joel walks you backwards to your bed, kissing you the entire way as you both discard your jackets onto the floor. When the back of your legs hit the end of your bed Joel is gripping you by the waist, licking into your mouth with such need that your back arches. Your hands are on his shoulders, gripping there to keep from falling. 

"I've imagined this so many times," you sigh against his parted mouth. You don't have time to consider if you should have kept that to yourself because Joel's reaction to this confession is electric. 

He hits his knees so quickly it's dizzying and before you can think or say anything, Joel is hitching up your dress to bunch at your hips before kissing you there. It's obvious what he intends to do and despite everything in you telling you to stop him, that it's all going too fast, you can't. Instead you arch back, your hips dropping towards him. 

You stare down at him, your heart beating like mad as he curls his forefinger around the lace of your panties and looks up at you with a face that asks your silent permission. 

You nod without hesitation, your breathing becoming staccato-ed as you watch him pull your already soaked panties down your legs. You step out of them, your hand going to brush his cheek. Seeing Joel kneeling in front of you, his hair tousled and his mouth parted in wanting causes you to shudder all over.

He gently urges the crook of your left leg over his broad shoulder, opening you to him. He's so fucking seductive kneeling there in front of you, his eyes taking in your sex with the look of a man meeting his salvation.

His hands are trailing over your thighs, the back of your knees, your calves, as if he's trying to map your body by touch alone. You can just see the curls of his hair as he leans forward, inhaling deeply and groaning again, his lips trailing over the tops of your legs languidly. 

Did you ever think that you would go from yelling at Joel Miller to having his mouth between your legs? 

He's murmuring against the soft skin of your hip now, something deep and low. You want to ask him what he's saying but then you whine low in your throat as he brings a hand to your leg on his shoulder, holding you in place as he presses gentle kisses to your silken inner thigh. 

"Tell me to stop and I will," he says looking up at you from his place half-knelt on the floor. 

Then his mouth descends. 

Any reply dies in your mouth at the first swipe of Joel's tongue. 

"Jesus!"

You clap a hand over your mouth, suddenly aware that Maria might hear you upstairs if she didn’t go to Tommy’s. But Joel is gripping your hands, pulling them down and making you fist them through his hair. 

"Hold," he tells you plainly, urging your hands to tighten in his locks. You're powerless to deny this request as his mouth returns to your aching core. Your hands hold onto his curls for dear life as he begins to taste you.

Joel is so talented at this that you genuinely consider sending Maria a fruit basket along with the flowers. Within seconds he has you gripping his hair as you tilt back, your body trembling.

“So fucking good,” he says between licks and deep, open-mouthed kisses.

Your head tilts forward on your chest, looking down the length of your body and holding in a moan.  DaVinci's ‘Mona Lisa’. Michelangelo's ‘David’. Van Gogh's ‘Starry Night’. All beautiful works of art and yet to you nothing comes close to being as exquisite as the sight of Joel Miller moving between your legs. 

His eyes are shut languidly, his nose nuzzling your clit as he works his tongue between your folds. Jesus Christ he's a work of art. His tongue is teasing you, flicking lightly. With every passing moment you feel the sparks building within you and you start to feel the familiar lightheaded sensation.  

"I-I need to lie down," you gasp, your knee threatening to buckle. Joel nods, coming to a stand and easing you back onto the bed. He straddles you there, his body curled over you as he kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips and this makes you groan into his mouth. 

“Need to keep tastin’ you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. You whimper, nodding as he begins to push your dress up your abdomen again. 

He brings his body down the length of yours and off the bed. He stands there, looking down at you with your wild hair and full mouth and you suddenly feel so exposed. The dress is resting just over your hips and you go to cover your aching pussy. Joel frowns, batting your hands away.

“Don’t hide,” he says gruffly before surging towards you. You give a small sound of surprise as Joel tugs your ankles until you’re at the edge of the bed.

There he kneels again as if in prayer, his hands coming to coil around your thighs before placing them over his shoulders. You watch this moaning softly as Joel’s dark eyes dart up the length of your body.

You expect him to look away or at least close his eyes, but instead he fixes his gaze to you before moving his mouth against your core in silent worship. You can’t keep looking at him there, your thighs parted wide on his broad shoulders, his soft mouth pressing kisses to your cunt before his eyes flutter shut.  

“Joel,” you whimper, feeling impossibly selfish. He’s mapped most of your half naked body and he still has his fucking clothes on! “Let me touch you.”

Joel shakes his head slightly before his hands have found yours again, urging them to grip his hair. You acquiesce as his palms push your thighs open wider, so that his tongue can reach deeper.

“Wanna make you come first,” he grunts lazily. “Need you to come on my tongue.”

Joel Miller is a giver.

His voice is low and thick and the desire wraps itself around every syllable.

If Joel just stood there at the end of your bed saying deliciously filthy things like that, never even touching you, you are convinced you could just come from that alone.

You’re about to shakily say something when you see him palming himself through his slacks as he tastes you. His hand is wide and squeezes intermittently, his groans increasing as his mouth devours you. Is he getting off to getting you off?

That’ll do it.

"Joel!" His name tumbles from your lips as you crest, your hands tugging at his hair urging him deeper. He acquiesces readily, fucking you with his tongue and sending you into that sweet, blissful state of release watching you the entire time. 

You arch off the bed, your hands going from his hair to clutch the sheets next to you as you come, your body jerking against his mouth. You expect him to stop, to join you in the bed but his eyes have fallen closed and he’s still going.

"Fuck! Joel I-" you can't finish because Joel isn't stopping. 

“You can give me another,” he says flicking his tongue lightly.

He’s smiling dreamily, his eyes still closed as he continues to suck on your clit, and now his finger has come to slide into your sopping center. You’re making obscene noises, rutting against his palm as his tongue continues laving at your clit and another finger joins the first; curling in that sweet spot you can’t reach yourself. 

Your hips are thrusting shallowly, and you feel yourself tumbling into another orgasm, this one sharper and more localized. You come raggedly calling his name, your thighs trembling along his shoulders.

Only after you come down from this second high does he pull back with his damp mouth curved into a self satisfied grin. You know your eyes must betray their every thought because he climbs up the bed, his mouth slanting over yours.

He kisses you sweetly, his mouth full and warm before he lays himself next to you in the bed, watching as you pull the dress back down over your hips. You roll onto your side to face him, your heads both resting on the same pillow.

He can’t stop smiling at you. It’s a subtle one, one that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly. The kind that makes your heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. And yet, it sends your body into an internal frenzy and your reaching a hand across the space between you to land on his hips.

“We said we were going to talk,” Joel murmurs when your hands begin to untuck his shirt from his slacks.

“Yeah, you’re right. We did.”

You want to talk like you both agreed, but being in bed with Joel is making logical thought really difficult. Your hand is sliding down his hips, down to palm his heavy cock through his pants before squeezing gently. You watch in fascination as Joel's eyes shutter and how slowly he moves against you, extending the sensation before something in him stops him, his hips pulling from you. Your palm falls to the bedsheet between you.  

“So we should talk.”

You can’t help it. You want to see Joel’s face do that thing again. That little brow flick and neck bob. That unguarded way his eyebrows banded when you first squeezed. You find yourself completely taken with how Joel looks when he’s aroused. Your hands are moving back over his slacks and he’s watching it with a look of a man faced with an impossible decision.

“Maybe we can talk after?” you suggest lightly as your hand slides down his pelvis.

“A-after?” he asks in a low groan as your hand slides over the length of his cock, squeezing. You’re rewarded with another eyebrow band and deep swallow from Joel.

“Yeah,” you soothe, starting slide your palm to curve around the shaft the best you can through the fabric and rubbing gently. “After I make you come?”

Joel is fighting for his life, his eyes shut tightly. “We need-need to-“

“You could finish in my mouth if you want?”

Joel makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat before his head falls into the crook of your neck, his hips thrusting into your hand. You smile, feeling something bloom within you when you hear the ragged groans coming from Joel. This strong man who could ask you to do anything and you’d oblige readily and all he wants right now is for you to touch him through his pants.

But just as you’re really starting to enjoy yourself, just as you feel Joel’s fingers digging into your hip you feel Joel shake his head, extricating himself from you gently with a growled “No” while breathing heavily through his nose.

You lean back, a small smirk on your face that he returns. 

“You’re a fucking menace.”

You laugh breathily at that, observing with delight that his eyes can’t stop going to your mouth, your breasts, your eyes. He sees your own gaze resting on the vee of his legs, his hips arched away from your still wandering hands.

"I want to," Joel promises you, his finger going to tap your chin so you’ll look at him. "You have no idea how much I want to."

"Good, I think I have a condom," you attempt to shift over and roll towards your bedside table but Joel stills you, holding you by the waist and pulling you back to face him. That strange guarded look is back in his eyes and it makes your stomach jump.

It's so surreal to be laying here beside him. He's looking at you with such a tensing of his jaw you're concerned he's going to crack a tooth. Self consciousness, that insidious beast in the back of your mind makes you curl into yourself.

Did you do something wrong? Did he regret what just happened? 

"You changed your mind.”

"It's not that," Joel insists. "Never that.”

When he sees a flicker of doubt cross your features he groans and grabs you by the wrist. You say nothing as he brings your limp palm to the crotch of his slacks. There you can feel the thick warmth of his cock pulsing as your hand grazes him through the fabric. 

"Hasn’t this been proof enough all night?" 

“Still,” you say warily taking your hand back. “What’s wrong?”

"This'll change everything," he says in a voice halfway between hopeful and worried. You consider his words, your breathing choppy because he keeps staring at you with the kind of eyes that people write poems about, the kind that move mountains and lessen resolve. When you don’t immediately answer him, you can see the flash of indecision cross his features.

“We can stop it all right now,” Joel whispers as his eyes search your face. “We can stop and we can pretend it never happened. I can do that if that’s what you want. It’d be hard but I could.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

His answer is immediate and you feel a shuddering breath of relief leave you. It’s not what you want either. Joel has told you, has shown you how he feels. You need to say something that will make him understand.

“I want it to change, Joel,” you say truthfully. “I want you. Not just in bed. Not just as a friend.”

He’s nodding now, his eyes wide and innocent looking. As if he can’t believe what you’re saying but he’s so fucking happy to be hearing it. You realize that you’ve come this far, you need to say everything that’s been dancing in your mind.

"I want you Joel," you tell him softly, your pupils blown wide. “I want you.”

His reply is whispering your name against your mouth as he kisses you. As he presses his lips against yours, pulling you tightly around him you feel yourself surrender completely.  His touch make you feel something you never felt with Paul or James. Safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I think we’ve talked enough.”

The meaning is clear because your hand has come to rest on his belt buckle and your pupils now dominate your iris. You can almost hear whatever restraint was holding Joel back snap like a rubber band. 

"I-- f-fuck, okay," Joel nods sharply, and while you undo his belt buckle his hands are coming to unbutton his slacks and bring down his zipper. 

You're over-eager, your hand skimming under the band of his slacks and boxers to where his hardened shaft lays pulsing. When your hand wraps around it, sliding gently from base to tip his hips jump off the bed. 

“Fuck!

His eyes are slammed shut as his hips thrust into your hand. His teeth are clenched so tightly the dimple in his right cheek has popped out.

“Joel look at me,” you plead, needing his eyes on you. They open a crack, glittering stones shining out at you from a pinched face.

“Just relax,” you soothe, your hand gently stroking him. “We don’t need to rush.”

This seems to get through to him because Joel nods. You watch his jaw unclench, and his fingers release the death-grip they’ve had on your bed sheets. His hand moves to twist in your hair, holding there for purchase. His eyes open fully now, limpid and staring at you while he grunts and thrusts into your hand.

You can’t help but lean forwards, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving your lips to his ear.

“I need you in my mouth, Joel,” you whimper against the soft skin of his earlobe, relishing the shiver that runs through him at the sound of it. Joel is shockingly responsive to your touch, as if he’s gone so long without it.

“You don’t have to-“ he starts but you ignore him because you're desperate to taste him, to just drag your tongue over the swollen head of his cock.

You’re pulling down his slacks and boxers, groaning when his erect cock is freed. It throbs there on his belly, golden and thick with a rosy head that is begging for your tongue. Joel is so fucking gorgeous laying there, his dark eyes wide as your tongue trails over your lower lip. Your hair has drifted in front of your face but Joel’s wide palm comes to brush it back.

“Thanks,” you say huskily as your mouth curves into a smile. “I want you to be able to see everything.”

His cock twitches at that and he makes a choking sound in the back of his throat.

“Jesus.”

It’s a guttural sound, like you’ve ripped it from his chest. You love it. You love that you’re the reason the normally reserved Joel is rapidly unwinding.

A sinful thought breaks into your mind: could you get Joel to whimper for you? The thought of turning a man like Joel into a needful, whimpering mess under your tongue makes you teeter on the edge of orgasm by thought alone. You see his neck bob as he swallows thickly again, his eyes fixed on your face. Your eyes drift towards his cock.

You need him in your mouth, you need to taste him.

And you would have accomplished such a feat if Joel's cell phone hadn't suddenly gone off loudly in his pocket, startling you both.

The beep is loud and sharp and it sends you almost tumbling off the bed as the red-cheeked Joel digs into his pockets looking furious. With a trembling hand he pulls out the phone, reading the message that’s come through before swearing.

“Everything okay?”

You’ve crawled back up the length of him. For some reason you can tell that your night is about to be cut short.

"It's Tommy asking where I am."

You can see the indecision in his eyes and frown at the rapid softening of his cock. You watch with disappointment as he shifts his hips, pulling his clothes back on in a hurry.

"Stay," you insist, not caring that you sound plaintive. “Please stay?”

Joel looks momentarily flustered at the sound of your voice pitched low and begging. You can see him biting back a groan as he turns his gaze on you.

“Sarah’s had a nightmare. She’s asking for me.”

Immediately you sober, knowing that there is no way you’re going to ever make Joel pick between you and his daughter. That’s a battle you were born to lose. So instead you sigh, disappointed but understanding as he pulls on his jacket. You force a smile on your face and tell him you understand.

“Tell bug I said hello,” you offer with a smile.

Despite the fact that she’s a major cockblock in this moment, you still love the kid.

Joel looks over at your form in the bed, your eyes big and sad. You may be okay with him leaving but that doesn’t mean that you’re happy about it. To be fair Joel looks so fucking disappointed, maybe even more than you.

He stands beside the bed, knowing that if he stays a second longer he physically won’t be able to leave. You watch him pull on his jacket, willing yourself not to focus on how good he looks when he’s getting ready to leave you.

"How about breakfast tomorrow?" Joel concedes out of nowhere. “Just you and me so we can talk more about this?”

“Like a date?”

Joel’s answering grin causes something in your heart to gallop. He leans over, his palms pressing onto the bed so he can reach you to plant a full-mouthed kiss to your lips before pulling back.

“Exactly like a date.”

Delight blooms in you and you nod with a grin.

"Yeah, I’d love to.”

Joel stays leaning on the bed for several seconds, his eyes scanning your face. You would ask him what he’s doing but you’re doing exactly the same. You’re memorizing every line, every eyelash. You’ll hold those small fragments of him until you see him next.

Finally with resolve he pushes off the bed and goes to the door, pausing only to turn back and say in the most devastating of low tones:

“And then after breakfast I’d like to come back here and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

He closes the door to the sound of your nervous giggles.

///

It's finally happening. 

Joel's heart is pounding against his ribs so brutally that for a moment he considers if he's going into cardiac arrest. When he remains upright and alive minutes later, he continues walking up the path to your door. 

You want him.

You admitted it.

You said it.

He can still see it, the intensity in your gaze as you whispered those words: “I want you, Joel.”

He’s still having trouble believing it. Still having a hard time understanding how something went from being so complicated to being so simple. He knows you’re worried about the same things he is – how your relationship will affect Sarah if things go wrong.

Simple, they aren’t going to. He knows this in his gut; he knows that you are his. It has been so clear to him these past few months and he hates that you spent any time at all not seeing it like he did.

He knows he’s smiling like an idiot as he strolls up to your door, because having you in his arms last night had felt so right he never wants to let you go. Never.   

He turns his mind to more carnal aims, recalling your body’s response to his. He can’t stop thinking about the way your face looked when you came, the sweet way you tasted on his tongue, the gentle curve of your mouth when you looked at him from between his legs.

After putting Sarah to bed last night he’d thrown himself into his own bed with the sound of your moans and whimpers dancing through his brain like music.

“I need you in my mouth, Joel.”

“I want you to be able to see everything.”

“I want you, Joel.”

He had put off stroking himself no longer than thirty seconds.  

He could still smell you on his clothes. The perfume you'd worn, warm and tantalizing, had done nothing to stop the stiffening of his member. Had done nothing but fuel his already ardent desire.

Joel… Joel…Joel…

Just the sound of your mouth and tongue wrapping around those four simple letters had him fisting himself under the sheets, his body trembling with want. A few tugs, strokes and images of your head thrown back as he made you come on his tongue caused him to erupt in his hand, grunting and then gasping out your name. 

And when you'd asked him to stay? Your face flushed and your eyes bright? You’d been so beautiful that it actually pained him to look at you. That had been the hardest thing to walk away from. 

It's this image of you that he carries with him as he knocks on your door, his hands trembling slightly in anticipation. He hears you shuffling inside and suddenly hyperaware he internally berates himself for not bringing flowers or something to mark such a moment.

And then the door opens and instead of your smiling face greeting him, you’re wearing a face you've never worn before. This one is lifeless with eyes that seem devoid of emotion.

It stops him from pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply as he had planned to, as he had imagined the entire drive over this morning. Instead he just stares at you, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

Something is wrong.

When you speak to offer a very quiet hello, it's with a voice he's never heard from you. Flat and distant sounding. There are dark circles under your eyes that makeup can't conceal. You’re leaning against the door frame as if you can’t support your standing frame. Joel tilts his head, trying to capture your eyes with his.  

"Still on for breakfast?" Joel begins, feeling uneasy when you won't make eye contact with him.

He hadn't expected this reaction from you, this chilly indifference.

"I don't really have time for that," you say hollowly to his shoulder. "I'm heading out of town for a bit."

Heading out of town? Joel frowns not recalling you mention any of this. "When will you be back?"

"Couple of weeks," you answer tiredly, still not looking at his face. "Maybe longer. Who knows?"

Weeks? Maybe longer? What the fuck is going on? He takes a step towards you, reaching for you before something catches his eye. The suitcase next to the door, packed and ready to go. When he realizes you’ve had time to think about this, time enough to pack a bag he feels his heart begin to pound for completely different reasons.

A woman he cares for and a packed bag.

How cyclical. 

He steps back and feels his entire body shutting down. All at once he feels incredibly stupid for coming here. So incredibly pathetic for sharing everything with you last night. It’s as if someone has taken his chest and squeezed it painfully from the inside.

"Right," he says laughing humorlessly. "Right." 

He turns and stalks away from you without pausing. He hopes he’ll hear your snap out of it, that he’ll hear you call his name and you can chalk this up to a weird moment. But he doesn’t because you don’t.  Instead he hears your door click shut.

It’s only in the safety of his truck driving home that Joel allows a lingering tear to slip down his cheek. 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #smut smut smut #filth #dirty talk #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #Dad!Joel Miller #angsty #angst #angst with a happy ending #eventual happy ending

[chaotic-mystery]

On the Road Again | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: it’s the morning after you stayed in a motel with Joel, so what now? Will he tell your dad you came onto him or can he keep a secret?

ꨄ CW: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. Porn w a lil bit of plot. Road head, reader has hair long enough to pull, choking, gagging, dirty talk, roughness, no seatbelt wearing ass (pls don’t do this, I love you too much for you to not wear it) swallowing bc we aren’t quitters! slight speeding while driving, Joel miller whimpers!

ꨄ WC: 2.1K

A/N: This is part 2 to Room 77! So happy to see all the love it’s gotten, so here we go! Hope you love it. I promise next part (if you want one idk let me know) we’ll set some story up and have more plot + sexy time

“Baby, wake up. We gotta go, cmon.”

Your eyes were blinking open gradually, finally seeing Joel who was sitting next to you on the bed and stroking your hair to wake you up. The energy was different now that you weren’t strangers to each others bodies. Joel held you the whole night right against his chest, never letting go until he woke up. With not nearly enough energy, you got up to start changing and get up to speed with him so he wasn’t waiting on you. Turning your back to him as he picked up the clothes from near the bathroom, you squeezed your hand into a fist, teetering on the idea of almost hating yourself for asking this question that was sitting in your throat. “J-Joel um, are you gonna tell my dad…about last night?” The room lingered with silence and Joel ran a hand over his scraggly mustache, looking at the back of your head from across the room.

“No, darlin’ I’m not. He’d kill me and I think he’d be pretty pissed off ‘atcha. I can keep this between us if you can, deal?” His tone was serious to get his point across. The last thing you wanted to see this weekend was your dad and Joel throwing punches at each other.

“Deal. I just hope you don’t regret what happened, because I don’t, not one bit.” You tugged your shirt on and attempted to fix your beadhead before packing your other clothes back into your duffle bag. Every emotion you could think of was going through Joel’s mind at that moment. On the one hand, he was nervous that your dad would find out and think he took advantage of you, but on the other hand he was ready for more and wanted to get to know you, the real you; not the version of you your dad tells him.

Joel’s hand ghosts over your shoulder for a split second before resting it on you, thumb rubbing on your soft skin. “Angel, I don’t regret anything. I meant everything I said and did, okay? It’s gonna be hell keepin’ my hands off ya in front of your family though, pretty girl.” His hand slides down your arm to your hand and grabs it firmly, spinning you around to face him. Joel tilts your chin upwards to look at him in his dark brown eyes, the sunlight hitting one just a little from behind the curtains. Your heart felt like it was about to come right out of your chest if he continued looking into your soul the way he was. There was nothing you wanted more than to lay him down on that bed behind you and ride him until your legs gave out and your body was trembling, but you had to go before everyone got suspicious. If he were to ask you right now to say ‘fuck it’ and stay with him at the motel all weekend, you would in a heartbeat.

“We gotta go, come on bunny.” Joel kisses your forehead lightly before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He grabbed both duffle bags and held the door open for you to leave the motel room. As you both walked to his truck, the warm air covered your body and your mind felt like it was coming clearer with every step you took. What’s going to happen when your dad sees you and you have to pretend like you didn’t just sleep with his best friend? How the hell were you going to pull off that lie? How were you going to manage three nights in the house with Joel in the other room, your mind on nothing but him?

“Ya just gonna stand there or you gonna get in so we can at least enjoy some time at the beach before the sun goes down?” Joel joked and looked at you from inside the truck, your bags already put away. You snapped out of it and grabbed the chrome handle, tugging it open to get inside. His rough fingers turned the key to start the engine and soon enough the truck was on the road flying to the direction of the vacation house. The sunglasses shielding your eyes made it easier to steal glances of Joel, the way his veiny hand gripped the steering wheel while his other hand was on the back of the seat by your head. Everything about him was sexy to you, it was hard not to stare. The way he drove with one hand, the way his curls blew in the wind, the way he squinted from the sun because he refused to wear sunglasses. Maybe it was because you slept with him or maybe you just never noticed how effortlessly he made everything seem; but he made daydreaming about him come naturally to you.

You suddenly had the idea to scoot to the middle seat and cuddle against him while you read your book, just wanting to feel him next to you. It was going to be the longest three hours if you couldn’t touch him in some way. It wasn’t going to be too long now before you had to painfully push aside the feelings and memories still fresh in your mind from last night. He was so gentle playing with your hair, you could almost still feel it. Not even asking if he was okay with it, you grabbed your book from your bag and unbuckled your seatbelt, scooting into the spot next to Joel. You leaned your back against him and propped your right leg on the seat, getting cozy while flipping to where your bookmark was. Joel coughed briefly and looked down with furrowed brows for a moment before looking back at the asphalt in front of him. “Just make yourself comfortable I ‘spose.” His deep voice vibrated through his lungs and against your back, making you smile to yourself.

“Well I have to take advantage of this while I can before I have to pretend like I don’t have bad thoughts about you coursing through my mind.” You tilted your head back until Joels head came into your view and he chuckled before kissing your head once more.

The book you cracked open to get caught up on had your interest maybe the first two hours of the drive and you were at a point you could guess how the book ends. Joel’s arm managed to wrap around your neck and have you in a comfortable headlock, keeping you close to him. The salty breeze mixed with his cologne just right, making you feel at peace, you were comfortable with him. Managing to sit up and look at Joel while your hand rested on his thigh, you got close to his ear and whispered, “How do you manage to make me want to blow you while you drive?” It was like you could see his ears perk up at your words and his eyes widened in surprise before meeting your eyes quickly. “S’that right sweet baby?” His hips lifted up to shift in his jeans as the bulge grew the more he thought about it. You dragged your nails against his thigh and traced over his cock through his pants and he whimpered your name so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

“What was that? Speak up for me, Joel.” you teased, grabbing a handful of his bulge.

He grunted at your actions, wishing you’d stop teasing him and do what you said to him. “I bet you look so cute with somethin’ in your mouth, baby doll. Let me see how much of a good girl you can be, hm?”

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t send your whole body into chills and excitement flooded your shorts. He knew just what to say to get you going and want to devour him like a fucking animal. With no hesitation you unzipped his jeans and plunged your hand in his boxers, greeted by his rock hard cock that was leaking precum from the slightly swollen tip. You gathered the precum in your hand and coated his cock with it as you began jerking him off, his moan echoing through the truck as a relief. “Fuck baby- that feels so goddamn good, jus’ like that.” Joel's Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he focused on the road and what your hand was doing to him.

“You’re so hot, Mr.Miller. The way you speed up the faster my hand goes up and down your cock, you’re such a filthy man. God I would kill to have you pull over and take me on the hood, leaving me dripping your cum in my shorts while I’m face to face with my family. Bet you’d love that, huh?” You were so unsure of where the sudden urge to speak such filthy thoughts in his ear came from but you weren’t mad at it. Joel was grunting and hanging on to every word, you could almost see it playing out in his head as he imagined taking you over the hood. “God dammit your voice drives me fucking crazy, you’re such a nasty lil thing- fuckkk” For a second his head tilts back before he squeezes the steering wheel tighter. Leaning down and shoving his cock in your mouth, you begin to work your tongue around the head. Pre cum was dripping out and onto your tongue and you swirled over the hole, collecting as much as you could. Joel switched hands and reached his right hand down to your head, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugged roughly while he groaned your name through gritted teeth. The rush of adrenaline made your shorts grow even wetter, squirming in your seat and dying from needing some type of relief.

Joel’s cock slammed into the back of your throat as you deep throated as much as you could, gagging and coughing over him and drool spilling everywhere. His grip on your hair tightened as he yanked your head back so you released his cock. “You keep goin’ like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat sweetheart.” He kissed you roughly, tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he kept an eye on the road. “We’ve got about ten more minutes before we get to the house, I know that’s plenty of time for you, dolly.” He kissed you once more before you made your way back to his cock, licking the bottom of the shaft all the way to the back of the head. Joel’s throaty moans filled the truck more frequently and his stomach caved with every deep breath he took.

“F-fuck baby jus’ like that, cmon jus’ like that. Nasty girl, fuckkk. Open wide for me, let me see you swallow my cum like a good girl.” Joel whimpered and his cock twitched in your mouth before his cum was shooting down the back of your throat. His hand never let go of your hair as he held you there, shouting profane words and your name mixed in there. For someone who had never gotten a blowjob on the road before he met you, he did pretty well driving and focusing on the road. Joel finally slowed down with his load and when he was milked dry, you came up and swallowed the rest as he looked you in the eyes.

Taking your thumb and wiping the corners of your mouth, he groaned at the sight of you making his load disappear inside you. “You- I’ve gotta keep my eye on you, don’t I?” A smirk of playfulness grew on his lips and you smirked, nodding in agreement. Joel came down off his high and tucked his soft cock back into his pants, looking over at you as you acted like nothing happened. The only issue was that your pussy was soaked and you needed his long tan fingers inside you or rubbing your clit but unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen right now.

The familiar house was making its way into your view and you felt at home. Joel honked the horn the entire driveway up until your dad came out, holding his arms wide open for a hug from you. Now you weren’t close with your dad, but he was kind enough to offer you the invitation to come. Was it all that special though if he was extending it for his friends to come? Joel got out and greeted your dad before grabbing the suitcases from the bed of the truck. You had to mentally prepare for this and it was not easy. Joel didn’t make it easy to act like nothing happened.

“You wouldn’t believe the fuckin’ rain we got caught in last night. Had to pull over and stay at a motel until it let up.” Your eyes darted to the gravel under your shoes as you walked up to your dad and hugged him. “Yeah it was insane but I’m glad Joel was with me.” Your dads smile froze and he blinked at Joel, who did not dare look at you.

“Separate rooms I hope?” Not wanting anything to be left for questioning, you and Joel answered almost too quickly over and over with yes. “Well come on in! I’m just grilling some meat for dinner!” Your dad hollered and walked back up the white wooden deck and disappeared inside. A deep sigh of relief came from both you and Joel and he placed your suitcase next to you with the handle up. “You heard him, let’s go bunny.” Joel mocked and smacked your ass to give you some pep in your step. This was going to be a fun weekend.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #dbf! joel smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dbf joel miller x f reader #dbf joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller drabble #room 77 part two #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo

[eddies-house]

Just a little blurb, Eddie has a hard time crying, you’re able to help him let go.

1.7K Words

TW - allusions to previous abuse, Eddie is emotional

Eddie having a hard time crying EVER unless he knows he’s fully isolated and even then he tries to hold back as much as possible.  His childhood didn’t leave him much room to learn that it’s okay to show emotions other than anger so he grew up with the understanding that crying was either going to get him beat or put in a timeout outside for hours which didn’t leave him any choice but to suck it up and move on.  

When he meets you, you talk about how having a good cry every now and then is so refreshing or if things are falling apart that you always feel better letting everything out and you even feel you can think clearer after.  He doesn’t get it because crying now elicits a fear deep inside of him so he can’t imagine crying to make himself feel better.  How could that make him feel better if all he knew were the repercussions after, not clarity like you tell him?  It was always a casual conversation, just telling each other how you blow off steam.  His way was to smoke his way into oblivion, granted this didn’t provide any clarity after and only temporarily numbed his pain or whatever was bothering him.  

So one day he’s having a particularly hard time, nothing is going his way, his van gave out on him in the parking lot at work when all he wanted was to go home which meant he stayed hours after just to fix it and get it running again.  Every event from morning to evening was working against him.  You’d already been laying in his bed since he called earlier and said he was going to be late apologetically and the strain in his voice only gave away that he was struggling internally.  It was something you came to recognize, his voice would get all tight and caught in the back of his throat and his breathing would get heavy whenever the day took an extra large toll on him.  You gathered that there was an urge to cry but he always held back and though he never talked about it in very much depth, you had an idea it was something ingrained into him from childhood and it only broke your heart more.  Either way, you lovingly said you’d be waiting for him at home even though he told you to go to sleep.  

The sudden creak of the trailer door and the sound of it closing with the click of the lock had you jolting up in bed, ready to greet Eddie and provide him as much comfort as possible.  Except before you were even able to step onto the carpet below, the bathroom door was shut and locked and sure enough, as you stepped out into the hallway, the only possible outcome was that Eddie had locked himself in the bathroom.  You heard some shuffling around and then silence, not one sound.  It stays like that for about fifteen minutes and now you’re starting to worry. 

Quietly approaching the door, the light from inside is peeking through the bottom and finally you hear a sigh.  It’s almost inaudible but you catch it.  Knocking on the door, there is no response even when you call for him.  “Eddie?”  Nothing.  “Eddie, you okay?  You’ve been in there for a while.”  Still nothing.  Luck was on your side tonight since when you reached for the door handle you found that it wasn’t locked and the door began to open.  A little thump is heard as it pushes against Eddie’s thigh, his position curled up with his knees to his chest and his head hung low.  “Shit!  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you with the door.”  You apologize while slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.  “It’s okay.”  He whispers.  “Are you okay?”  You ask, still standing over him, unable to read his face.  He just nods.  You’re not sure why you even asked, he would always lie just so he could suffer alone.  

Crouching down in front of him, you try to get a glimpse of his face, try to gauge what might be going on.  You gently reach out and tilt his chin up, and he lets you, only to find his big sad eyes.  They’re wet but there are no tears shed and he’s biting his lip anxiously, one of his many habits.  “What’s going on?”  Your tone is soft, an attempt to let him know that you aren’t going to judge him should those tears pooling in his eyes fall.  He responds by shaking his head, his stare now glued to the bathroom floor.  “Baby, talk to me.”  You whisper, cupping his jaw.  

It’s not necessarily a flinch in a reaction to you but he quickly moves his face out of your grasp to look up at the ceiling and you can gather that he’s trying to get rid of his tears, sniffling them back.  “Eddie, you can cry, you know that right?”  He just continues to shake his head, fighting a losing battle with himself.  “No.”  His voice cracks, still fixed on the ceiling.  “I can’t.”  He sounds so small, so fragile as his knuckles turn white, gripping his knees.  “I can’t.”  He says a final time, weak.  

You’re quick to move closer to him, situating yourself in front of him to again take his face gently in your hands, his hands grabbing at your forearms as if to warn you to stay away.  “Eddie, stop.”  You’re stern but kind, you know what he needs and he can’t keep denying himself.  “No.”  His grip tightens on you but not by much, just enough to show you how much anxiety is coursing through him.  Your thumbs graze over his cheeks, admiring his every feature, even his eyelashes that are wet.  There’s a fear in his eyes, from what you’re not sure but it’s definitely present, you’re beginning to conclude that the thought of crying ignited some kind of fear and you don’t even need to put all the pieces together to understand that he believes there are consequences of some kind if he allows it to happen.  “Hey, listen to me.”  You keep your voice hushed as if you could scare him off at any moment.  His gaze is fixed on you, almost concentrated in a way that he’s trying to work out an escape.  “Nothing bad is gonna happen.  I promise.  You can cry.  I’m not gonna do anything, no one is gonna do anything, okay?”  Somehow the words reach him, you know this by the way he softens, by the way his grip on your arms loosens and his body slightly relaxes.  He doesn’t fully give in but it’s a start.  “Rough day?”  You ask, tucking a curl behind his ear, now trying to coax him into a comfort zone.  

He doesn’t know why those two words release the waterworks but they do and suddenly hot tears are spilling down his cheeks despite his inner protests.  He’s shaking his head as if to take it all back but you’re already pulling him toward you, cradling his head to your chest.  Sobs escape him and he’s suddenly just full on bawling in your arms, a major contrast to earlier.  It’s as if something snapped in him that made him release every emotion he was feeling at the moment and it was evident as the tears soaked your shirt.  He now gripped at the sleeves of your t shirt, his body shaking and you feel so helpless but you know this is what he needs, to just cry without worry and to realize that he’s safe doing so.

“I know, let it out.”  You tell him while running a hand up and down his back, his sobs only increasing intensity at your words.  “There you go, let everything go.”  He’s never felt so secure while falling apart.  It goes on for at least ten more minutes.  Ten more minutes of emotions being released from his deepest depths that have never surfaced before.  After that he begins to slowly calm down, hiccups escaping him while his breathing stutters and he wipes his remaining tears on his own shirt.  The ashamed expression he wears conveys that you will need to work on this with him but it’s still a giant step which only makes you proud.  You let him take the initiative from here, let him decide if he wants to talk or if he wants to simply leave it because there is no wrong choice, just one that makes him more comfortable.  

Several minutes go by as he regulates his breathing and avoids your eyes, the two of you just sitting on the bathroom floor in the warm lighting.  What he says—rather croaks out only shatters you more.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry.”  That simply won’t do so you gather his hands in yours and press a kiss to his damp cheek, being as delicate as possible.  “There is nothing to be sorry for, Eddie.  Nothing at all.  I’m glad I could be here with you.”  You squeeze his hands to punctuate, wanting him to understand how serious you are, how truthful your words are.  “We can talk if you want.”  You continue quietly, pushing his bangs out of his eyes, a slight hint of anxiety traveling through him as his gaze darts around the small room.  “Or we don’t have to talk at all.  Whatever you want.  But either way I’m right here.”  You remind him, offering a soft smile while looking into his big doe eyes.  “Not going anywhere, okay?”  He wants to cry again, god does he want to just burst out in tears again but this time it’s out of thankfulness that he feels safe enough to let spill down his cheeks.  And so he does.  He cries again while pressing his forehead to yours, letting you see him, raw and unfiltered.  “Thank you.”  He whispers, nose nudging against yours, one of his tears escaping the tip of his and onto your lip and you don’t budge, maybe even shedding a few yourself.  

You may not comprehend the impact you had on him that night but it meant more to him than anything and though he still struggles with letting you see him at his lowest points, emotionally bruised and broken down, he’s forever grateful for you and your compassion.  No one has ever been so gentle with him but he figures it’s something he could get used to.  

~end~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst

[luveline]

Ok but like shy!reader doodling Eddie's tattoos onto her own arms and then getting embarrassed when he sees them. But he's just like "wdym you're embarrassed, it's cute... But you're missing a bat, there's seven of them :)"

this is the cutest idea ever!! ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

You'd forgotten all about your penned imitations by the end of the day, a boring morning at work spent idly doodling swiftly replaced in your memory by a turbulent afternoon. 

You stare at the desk with your hands braced at the sides of your face. You're tired and aching and you just really want to see Eddie, his frizzy curls all windblown from driving with the windows down, his ripped clothes. 

Life is sometimes fair. As soon as you think of him, he appears.

"Hey," Eddie says, bright and easy.

You blink at him and grin from behind the Palace arcade desk.

"Miss me?" he asks, smirking.

You try to hide your smile but the damage has already been done. Refusing to answer, you pretend to be busier than you are, reaching under the counter for another roll of quarters. 

"I was thinking we'd go get milkshakes. You know, celebrate the weekend," he says, his hand clasped around the crook of his arm, head inclined to yours. 

"I'm sorry you have to wait for me," you apologise.

Eddie finishes school an hour and a half before you finish work. You know he's taken to spending that time in the parking lot, shooting the breeze. Or, from the smell, smoking it. You feel very guilty to take up his time like that, and also, secretly, very special. 

"Don't be. You know," he turns so his back is to you and points to his van, "when I park right there? I can see you running around in here. You realise they're only paying you minimum wage, right?" 

"You watch me working?" you ask. 

"What?" He spins around, a hand sewn into the hair behind his neck. "Of course not… Hey, what's that?" 

It's your worst nightmare to be caught like this, his tattoos badly replicated over your arm and on clear display. If he didn't know how hopeless you are about him before this is an amazingly obvious indication. 

You pull your arm to your chest in a poor attempt at hiding it and he vies for it, fingers kind but insistent as they close around your wrist. You're not in the habit of denying him anything but you can't look at him as he lays your arm across the desk. He's unusually quiet as he slides a ringed finger under your sleeve and hikes it up high. His fingertips stay bordering your sleeve and his thumb brushes over a clumsy wing, his eyes a shade from blank.

You squirm under his touch but don't pull away. Eddie's eyes flit up to your face. He takes in your embarrassment and is quick to try to make you feel better, his grip loosening. 

"Hey, it's okay. They look good on you." 

Your relief is palpable. You step as close to him as you can with the counter between you and he screws his lips to the side, a lopsided smile. 

"You're missing one," he says wryly. 

"Huh?" 

"You're missing one of the bats. D'you have a pen?" 

You lean back to the register and grab one for him. He takes it gratefully and unstoppers it with his teeth, holding the cap between his lips. The nib is small and thin and tickles you worse now that it's Eddie drawing on you. He sets it to your skin gently, a feathering sketch stretching out besides the other bats as he slowly completes your temporary tattoo. He does a much better job than you, though he has a clearer point of reference. 

He strokes your arm when he finishes, a cheerful smile affecting his every feature: his eyes crease, his cheeks perk up. 

"Voilà," he says. "Perfect." 

He changes his mind abruptly. "Oh, wait." 

He sets the pen to your skin again. You struggle to see it as he writes E.M in his brilliant hand, letters all pointy and broad. From your angle it looks like a W and a backwards E so it takes you a few seconds to recognise what they are.

"Gotta sign the artwork." 

You hold your hand out for the pen and he passes it to you. You struggle to write upside down, reworking your initials in your head before you set them underneath his with a small plus sign. 

He leans forward and squints at it. His hair falls in his face. You ditch the pen to tuck it behind his ear, your hand tentative, your touch lingering behind his earlobe. 

You're distracted by his earring, a tiny silver stud, and don't notice he's taken the pen again until he's half finished his next addition. 

He puts the pen down with a self-satisfied hum. 

A confident heart encapsulates both of your initials. 

"You should get that for keeps." You laugh, breathless, and his smile only grows. "Yeah? That would be sweet. The bats too, if you can stomach it."

"I should start small," you murmur. 

Funny, to see any kind of bashfulness on Eddie, who's features seem designed for smugness or something similar. 

"Maybe just the E," you add with a feigned nonchalance. 

He looks like he wants to jump over the desk. Nervous laughter bubbles up your throat and you pull your arm out of his grip to cover your mouth with your hand. 

"When's your shift finish?" he asks, though he knows. 

"Five minutes." 

He starts to back out of the arcade, eyes on yours and hand aloft. "You spend those five minutes thinking about what you want tonight, yeah? I'm gonna start the van." He almost hits a little kid on the way out. You can see the muttered cuss word on his lips. When he looks back at you he's electric. "Anything you want, you can have!"

His promise makes the last five minutes feel longer than any of the hours before. 

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

[minicoffee00]

The one that got away Part 2 Rhysand x Reader x ?

Plot: you are the closest thing Rhysand has to a mate before he is taken away by Amarantha, what happens when you haven’t seen the man you adore and love in 50 years to come back claiming he has found his mate and he wants nothing more to do with you.

Warnings: Angst

Rhysand had watched as you left, he had stayed silent not prepared to choose. I’m his mind, he tried to convince himself that it was a big decision and he wouldn’t immediately choose Feyre.

But in every dream, in every waking thought it was her. And he could tell himself logically it was an infatuation, and he actually held a live connection to you. However infatuation isn’t as bad as it seems, it’s one for the most passionate and raw connections one can have.

So yeah, it was Feyre, and he tried to convince himself it wouldn’t always be her. But even though the image of you was clearer in his mind than that of Feyre, Feyre was the one breaking through.

You’d left, and Azriel and Cassian had attempted to stop you, but a shake of your head had them regrettably stepping back.

“Why, why did she leave me?” Rhysand asks, as if it wasn’t obvious, leaving both Cassian and Azriel to groan out their annoyances.

“Because you are a prick brother. I get that you want to see where things go with your mate. Any of us would, but you haven’t even thanked her, for everything she has done, you tried kicking her out of her home … you’ve been awful to her. I’m shocked she stayed this long” Cassian admits, feeling rather vocal about this topic.

“Where do you think she’s gone?” Rhysand asks.

“No idea, but she had friends in other courts so it wouldn’t shock me if she’s gone to one of them” Azriel expreses, you were oddly, the lightest aspect of the night court. Eveyone preened in your presence wondering how you’d become tethered to someone as terrible as Rhysand.

And you were slowly were staring to think that it was his kind, polite side of him that was the imposter persona he wore rather than the cruel and cryptic Night Court Highlord. Agreeing with the other courts in their assumptions.

Rhysand had hurt you, and you never imagined he could hurt you as much as he had. Which is why you’d fled straight to your oldest friend, Hellion. He’d always been there for you, whenever you’d felt as if Rhysand was becoming to overbearing and protective and you needed someone to talk to, he was always there.

“Hellion?” You ask as the guard brought you into the palace of the day court.

“My Anima” he sighs looking at you, you’d never know what the little nickname had ment but he called you that before you’d even met Rhysand and it stuck.

“I - everything is so horribly wrong” you say, the tears building up in your waterline.

“Come” he says patting his thigh. You walk over to him and curl into his lap, he only needed one of his large muscular thighs to hole you on his lap, but you used both snuggling further down into him.

“What has occurred” he asks curiously, he didn’t want to admit it but he had a rough idea. He saw the way Rhysand went against Amarantha to protect Feyre and to keep her alive. He knew that something had snapped as she’d been resurrected as High Fae by the vast majority of them.

“Rhysand found his mate under the mountain, he also doesn’t know that he’s been leaving his walls down around me. So I can feel everything and see everything, that he feels now or felt in… in the past” you say remembering how you could feel his guilty self when he did let himself feel some kind of pleasure around Amarantha as it was his body’s natural reaction to being touched so sensually. But you had to see that and feel that without his knowledge. All while feeling these new emotions he held for Feyre.

“Ah yes, I saw them under the mountain. I’m glad you weren’t there and that you were safe in the Night Court” he exclaims knowing you would have suffered a great deal down there as Rhysands wife.

“I - he, I don’t know what to say” you admit, your brain was currently incapable of forming words, it was a void and empty space.

“Hey shush shush, I’m here I’m here. You know, you’ll never loose me. No matter what lifetime we may meet one another in” he smiles, you smile back. And for the first time you actually look at him, taking in his features before meeting his eyes.

His smile was radiant, as light as the rays of sun that shine over his court of day.

He was ethereal.

“Can I please stay with you, even just for a little bit. I can’t face anyone in the night court. Especially if Rhysand is in the process of wooing Feyre” you admit.

“Of course. I’d have it no other way. And who knows maybe I’ll finally woo you after 500 ofd years” he sends a joking wink your way, a light chuckle rumbling through your body.

He always knew how to make you laugh.

“Well maybe we should start to think about long term plans?” You say shyly, his head whipping to you!

“Are you asking for my hand in marriage” he asks eyes wide.

“No, I’m saying that I should get annulled from Rhysand, he’s found his mate so our courtship I guess is void” you admit a thoughtful look on your face.

“This isn’t something you need to think about right now. Shall we take a walk in the daylillies field?” He questions and you smiled. You’d once admitted to him that they were your favourite flower, he had torn down a field that was near the palace of Aster’s just to replace them with daylillies.

He stood up, placing you down gently on the floor.

“Actually first we’ll get you out of this dismal attire and put something lighter on you” he grins pulling you further into the palace reaching a room that was specifically for you when you would stay here with Hellion.

He left you with the made your frowned at your dark attire from the night court, before throwing a white dress your way, that had golden chains and accents on it.

“Why don’t you look like a vision of day” Hellion says leaning with his hands on the doorway leaning slightly through while observing you from head to toe.

“Now, join me for this walk, yes” he asks reaching a hand out to you. And for the first time in weeks, your brain held a good kind of empty feeling, one that was almost freeing from the pain.

A/N: im terribly sorry for how behind I am with the up and coming! I will be able to get lots done tonight and tomorrow! Again I’m so sorry!

Taglist:

@cat-or-kitten

@sstrohma

@horneybeach1

@its-sam-allgood

@starryhiraeth

@xcastawayherosx

@glitterypirateduck

@azriels-mate2

@mavropouloupanagiota

@chasing-autumns-chill

@justdreamstars

#acotar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #acowar #acosf #rhysand x reader #high lord rhysand #rhysand x feyre #rhysand

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part four

Words: 622 | Rating: E (not this part but previous parts so consider it as a whole) | CW: mentions of blood and death, past alcohol consumption/hangover

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Steve scoffs. "Magic isn't real."

"No?" The stranger's eyebrow raises and his eye light up in amusement. "Then how did I get rid of your hangover just now, genius?"

Rolling his eyes, Steve's ready to fire a smartass answer right back, but he pauses. Because he doesn't actually have an answer to the question. There's no logical explanation for the blinding light, the glowing eyes, the sudden lack of hangover. At least none that his brain can find. Which leaves him with the illogical answers, like fucking magic apparently. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest. "Not magic," he mutters finally but the response is weak and lacking conviction.

Honestly, though? He doesn't have time for this. There's a body in another room not even twenty feet away from him and he's still covered in blood. The hangover being gone is the least pressing of his worries.

The stranger in the doorway clicks his tongue in thought as one of his hands moves up to absently twirl a curl around his finger. "I suppose not magic is actually probably more accurate," he muses. "It was just the first thing I thought of that you might understand."

Which helps Steve's confusion exactly none, but he decides it doesn't matter as he moves to push past the stranger with a gruff "whatever, dude", finally feeling up to dealing with the murder scene he woke up to but with no clearer idea of how he's doing that. As their shoulders brush when Steve passes by, a jolt of electricity shoots down his arm, ending painfully at his fingertips and leaving him reeling to the side as the stranger does the same. Two sets of wide eyes stare into each other, and finally the stranger looks as confused as Steve feels.

"I am so having words with Joyce later…" the stranger mutters to himself as Steve gets control of himself again and continues down the hallway.

There's footsteps following after him, stopping a couple of steps back as they reach the threshold to the living room. "I can help with this, too, you know. If you want," the stranger offers and it's enough to get Steve peering over his shoulder.

"What? Gonna magic it away too?" he sneers, because a hangover is one thing, but a dead body? Surely this guy has people that will miss him if he stops showing up. Making it all disappear would solve nothing.

Stepping around Steve and pointedly making sure they don't touch again, the stranger looks around the room for a moment before it lights up in the same blinding way as the bathroom. When it clears, leaving Steve blinking away spots from his vision, the blood splatters across the room are gone and the mangled body in the center of the room is noticeably less mangled. "I can't bring him back, but I can make it look less like a murder," the stranger says as he turns back towards Steve, wide, dimply grin back in place.

Steve gapes at the scene in front of him, brain desperately trying to process what just happened and coming up blank. Because blood doesn't just disappear and bodies don't just suddenly knit themselves back together, right? It's impossible. But so is everything else Steve has come across this morning, so maybe he's just missing some very vital world information. "What the fuck?" he mumbles so softly he can barely hear himself. "What are you? Who are you?"

Something in the stranger's gaze softens as he looks at Steve this time, replacing the (admittedly kind of asshole-ish) amusement that's been dancing around his features all morning. "Name's Eddie," he replies. "And the easiest explanation, I suppose, would be that I'm your guardian angel."

tags: @chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddie @penny00dreadfull @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd

i tried to tag everyone that asked, but a couple aren't pulling up, sorry! if you want added, just let me know <3

#fox writes things #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot

[normansnt]

The tailor (sanji x male tailor! Reader)

Warnings: the reader cuts himself with scissors. I don't know if thats a warning but yeah.

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

The strawhats docked at another island for the logpose to reset. As usual everyone went their way. And Sanji obviously went with Robin and Nami clothe shopping to carry their bags.

They were walking around town when they spotted a shop standing alone. It wasn't too big nor small. The first thing that someone felt when they saw it was calmness. It was a cozy little store. First Nami wanted to ignore it due to its simple looks. But Robin felt like the little shop had great things to offer.

"I find it rather adorable, I wouldn't mind going in" said Robin in a calm voice.

"Well all right we have time after all" gave in Nami looking at the log pose. Sanji didn't say anything but he had a little cheer in his mind that the girls decided to go in.

It was a small shop with unique and beautiful clothes put on display. The closer they got the clearer they could see how amazing the clothes put on display in the shop window were.

When they stepped into the shop the little bell over the door gave a light "ting" sound letting whoever was in there know that they had entered. The smell of lavender greeted them. The shop was only slightly bigger on the inside then it looked from outside, but it was not too small as though not having enough space.

Two clothing racks stood in the middle and if you walked to the other side of the store three mirrors greeted you with a small stage in front and a table besides them. The walls, which had clothes hanging on racks neatly organized, had a comforting light blue color. There was also a staircase leading to a door, a closed door so they had no idea what was behind it.

"Aughh damn it" came from behind the closed door.

"I will be down in a minute" yelled a mans voice.

Nami and Robin started looking around while waiting for whoever it was behind that door to come down, Sanji kept analyzing the place. All though he had to lie if he said that the clothed there didn't catch even his attention.

They seem to have been made with utmost care due to every stitch being very clean and the pieces of fabric complimented each other well very well.

The door opened suddenly and a man not much younger then Sanji stepped out. He had a big smile on his face and glasses on his nose which were held together by duct tape.

The man had h/c h/l hair and e/c eyes. These looked lovely with his s/c skin. He was a handsome man by the looks of it and based on his outfit he knew his way around clothing as well. He was wearing a white button up shirt with brown suit pants which had red squares detailed on it, around his neck was a tape measure and on his middle finger a thimble showing that he in fact made these clothes with his own hands. To top it off on his feet were black loafers, he looked very sheik.

"Oh hello" greeted Robin politely "are you alright we heard cursing before?" Asked the raven haired women kindly.

"Oh, I apologize for that, I was just cutting some fabric and the bell startled me so I cut into my finger a bit" smiled the man sheepishly while holding up his index finger which was bandaged all the way.

"Must have been a deep cut" muttered Sanji.

"Anyway I apologize again, what can I help you with ladies and gentleman?" Said the man while flashing a big smile. 'Adorable' thought Sanji, his smile had a child like innocence to it and the glint in his e/c eyes made it all the more sweeter- what? Since when did Sanji think like this about a man? He admits when a man is handsome, of course, but he never went into detail describing his attraction towards one- attraction? What is going on today?

"And for you sir?" Asked the man who he still didn't know the name of because he wasn't paying attention to the conversation he was having with the girls, who, disappeared,now realized Sanji. The man must have noticed his confusion so he said hastily

"The ladies went to try one some pieces" said the clothing shop owner while pointing at a door beside the three mirrors on the opposite side to the little table.

"And my previous question was if you are looking for any clothing?" Said the man smiling kindly. Sanji didn't want to be rude he wanted to get the handsome mans name at least.

"Please excuse me but I seem to have zoned out previously, do you mind telling me your name?" Asked Sanji red in the face.

"Oh no problem, of course, my name is Y/N L/N it is a pleasure to meet you" smiled Y/N while putting his hand out for Sanji to shake. He did just that while introducing himself as well.

"So are you looking for any clothing? I can tell by what you are wearing that you know a thing or too about fashion" he flashed his handsome smile again.

It was true Sanji did put a bit more care into what he was wearing than oder man but compared to Y/N he probably couldn't tell the difference between velvet and chiffon.

"Oh no, thank you, Im just here to carry the ladies shopping bags and assist them any way they need" smiled back Sanji. All though he liked the clothes in this shop, he didn't want to waste money, not to mention it was hard to find something that fit him because of his build, he was skinny but very muscular at the same time.

"Are you sure? I can tailor something for you as well" said the man hopefully.

Sanji saw the glint in his eyes, it looked similar to when he was about to cook a new meal or try a new recipe. Passion, passion for ones work. Sanji liked that about Y/N he seemed very eager to work, just like him. Also the thought of having his own tailored suit sounded lovely for Sanji. Finally something that fits perfectly.

"I actually think that's a really good idea Sanji you have been wearing the same suit for forever" Said Nami suddenly standing beside Sanji. She walked out of the fitting room with the clothes she wants to buy in her hand just a minute ago. Sanji didn't notice her walking out. But how could that happen? Sanji not noticing Nami? Its true he was focusing on Y/N but not this hard! Right?

"Yes, getting a new suit might actually be useful but I don't want to waste money that could be spent on food Nami-san" said Sanji.

"Its not a waste of money its clothes, we have enough money for food, its just one suit it cant even be that much money" said Nami looking at Y/N hopefully.

"Oh no its 50 berry" Said Y/N hoping they are ok with that price. Nami's eyes turned into berry icons showing how happy she is that she will be saving this much money.

Y/Ns clothes had amazing quality and were cheap as well. This showed how kind the male was he never thought much of money. He just sold his clothes to make people happy and of course he needed to eat something.

"Very well," gave in Sanji "I would love to have you tailor me suit" finished Sanji smiling at Y/N.

"All right we will leave you to it then" said Robin also coming out of the fitting rooms. And with that the girls paid for the clothes they wanted and left. Weirdly enough, Sanji didn't mind this, of course it would be amazing to spend more time with the lovely ladies of the strawhat crew but staying alone with Y/N was an idea he didn't oppose of.

While Y/N was taking his measurements Sanji could feel his hands touching his body slightly. Y/Ns feather light touch left goosebumps on Sanjis skin for some reason even though it was only through fabric.

Naw, Sanji was no fool. He has noticed in the past that Ladies are not the only ones who capture his attention, he wanted to sleep with man as well in fact.

However what Y/N was doing to him was completely new. The man made Sanji flustered and now he understood those butterflies in the stomach everyone was talking about. They had just met but Sanji was smitten. Even more so when they started talking, while Y/N was making his suit.

"Yeah, I love cooking Im not really good at it though" said Y/N a little red in the face. "The last time I tried to make breakfast I left the omelette on the stove because I got distracted and well lats just say I had to get a new kitchen." Smiled the e/c eyed male sheepishly. Sanji loved when he smiled like that it was rather adorable.

"I can teach you if you like" said Sanji perhaps a little fast. Y/N stopped his movements and looked at Sanji with a slightly red face and a small smile

"You would do that? Thats so kind but you guys will only be on this island for so long Im afraid we don't have time, I mean pirates have to move right?"

The interesting thing about this sentence is that Sanji never mentioned that they were pirates. That means Y/N must have known the entire time. And yet... and yet he was this nice to them showing nothing but kindness. Thats it, he had to have you, at least on the crew.

"Well... we don't have a tailor on our ship yet..." started Sanji hopefully. At this point he didn't care if you couldn't fight he would protect you, he didn't care he has to clear things with Luffy he will threaten to not give him food for a week.

"Oh, Im sorry, I would not be a good pirate, I hate fighting..."

"You don't have to I'll protect you" Y/N smirked a little bit. "I didn't say I couldn't protect myself I just said I hate fighting, lets just say me and fighting have a...problematic past." Y/N was searching for the right words. "You see if I were to be a pirate they would find me and well I do not fancy that" smiled Y/N embarrassed hoping Sanji wouldn't question him further.

"They? Who is they is someone after you?" Sanji was shocked. You, an innocent angel, had a past with fighting? Not to mention someone was after you?

Y/N was contemplating what to do. On one hand he trusted Sanji even though they had just met he took a liking to the blond. But he is risking a great deal if he finds out about his past.

Oh what the hell he has been in hiding till now even if Sanji decides to hold this against him he can just flee.

"Sanji have you heard about Ciper pol?" What? Yes he had he fought them not long ago...where is this going?

"More specifically Cp9?" Oh no, what is Y/N about to say?

"I was part of them" there it is, exactly what Sanji feared. "Im not anymore, I fled, they raised me to be a monster who knows nothing outside of fighting, but thats not me, I hate fighting, I decided to flee not long after an old lady showed me how to sow" a sad smile spread on Y/Ns face. "She thought me in thanks for not killing her family, I was supposed to kill them. Thats why after I stayed with them for a long time and she thought me how to make clothes I ran away and lived in hiding since then"

There it was, out in the open. Now Sanji can run away, make a disgusted face, curse him. These are the reactions he got before this.

But instead Sanji took out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a drag and then said

"My crew just fought Cp9 not long ago" Y/Ns eyes widened 'and they are still alive??' "In fact we declared a war against the government, then won the fight against them." Sanji looked at Y/N who's expression showed absolute shock.

"Listen it doesn't matter how your story begins you had no say in that, your decision afterwards matter. And you fled, you ran away from that horrible life and that was your decision and that shows the person you really are--" before Sanji could finish his sentence Y/N was clinging to him, hugging him with almost unbearable strength, almost. "Thank you..." whispered the slightly shorter male.

He meant thank you for them defeating his past comrades, Sanji knew that. He hugged back. It was a very comfortable hug, Y/N smelled like clean clothes and lavender, just like his shop.

After hugging for a good two minutes Y/N pulled away.

"I'm sorry its just... they deserved it" chuckled Y/N slightly "they needed an ass whopping to get them in the right mind just a little" continued Y/N while taking the cigarette from Sanjis hands and taking a drag. "Fuck I needed that".

Sanji got tomato read. The way Y/N inhaled the deadly chemical and then tilted his had back to blow it out. His adams apple visible and his neck exposed.

"Anyway where is this pirate crew who declared a war on the government? The handsome cook said they needed a tailor I would like to check it out" smiled Y/N kindly again. Sanji got even redder. This is going to be interesting

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

WHAAAAA- two posts on one day😗

I told you my next fic is gonna be a Sanji fic😍

I tried to not like this man due to his pervert behavior but I just have to end up falling for him🙃

ANYWAYS I love how this fic turned out I tried to make it longer now, and I successfully did so, Im happy🥳

I hope you guys like it Im sorry for any grammatical mistakes I made if I did please correct me🙏

Well, I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentlemen and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🧡🦖

#sanji x male reader #one piece x male reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fanfiction #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #sanji x you #straw hat sanji #sanji x reader #male reader #black leg sanji #sanji x y/n

[tomieafterdark]

Catboy Eren drabble

cw: afab!reader, dom!eren, 18+ dni if u are a minor

I am gonna be honest, this is so unserious I don't know what possessed me to actually write it and hit poster prob should have stayed in the drafts. Anyways, it is inspired by the same person that inspired this fic because he has a catlike aura.

not proofread also click here for more content

You always thought Eren had this "grumpy cat" aura to him, and you never stopped reminding him about it. In fact, you had tried to make him say "meow" or use a catboy image as his profile picture several times, but all you were met with was him ignoring it or telling you it will never happen.

Everything he said seemed to go in one ear and out of the other, because one day when hanging out with him you decided it would be a good idea to bring cat ears and try to put them on him.

And you did. Eventually.

As if his death glare had not been enough, you just had to blurt out that he looks like a submissive catboy. 

And that is how you ended up in this lovely situation.

"E-eren slow down!" You whined.

"Shut the fuck up." he hissed in irritation, pushing your head further down into the pillow. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eren was stretching you open more and more with every thrust, as if the position he had you in wasn’t painful enough he went in with almost no prep. Adjusting to his size was quite the challenge.

He loved watching your hole swallow his cock whole, but what he loved even more was the way you reacted to how deep he went inside of you. He could tell that none of your previous sexual partners had ever touched your cervix with their tip, nor had they stretched you so good that it feels like your first time all over again. 

He kept his eyes locked on you as he fastened his pace. Your whimpering grew louder and clearer even though your face was buried in the pillow, your cries were actual music to his ears. He needed to hear them more clearly. 

He suddenly slips it out, you are too fucked out to notice it at first, still arching. But next thing you know he is sitting next to you on the bed and leaning against the headboard. 

“Get up y/n, I want you on top.” He commands coldly, his intimidating gaze not leaving you for a second.

You get up slowly, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure between your legs. You suddenly notice he forgot to take off the cat ears you had put on him earlier, it is very hard to not giggle but you manage to somehow muster up enough self control to keep quiet. You slowly move over to him, it is impossible to not stare at his face because of the cat ears. He looks so good with them on, and surprisingly not submissive. However the “grumpy cat” energy remains, and he looks even more annoyed now because you are taking way too long getting on top of him. Somehow he comes to the conclusion that you are being nervous because of his size but you are just in awe of how good he looks with cat ears on, you haven’t even glanced at his dick yet. 

“Y/n, if you are scared of the size just say that. I can assist.” He mutters, seeming less annoyed and almost concerned now. 

“Huh?” You look at him in confusion, but the dots soon connect. You are about to protest, but the way he suddenly became all attentive and kind of careful made you feel some type of way and you don't mind this going on for a bit longer. 

He starts fingering you and the sudden intrusion makes you hiss but he quickly shuts you up with a kiss. You manage to take a quick glance at his cock amidst all the kissing and moaning and you feel the knot in your stomach. It is a strange mix of fear, excitement and doom. How would all that fit inside you? 

All the mixed emotions and his skilled fingers bring you closer and closer to climax, he is aware of it by the way you are squeezing around his fingers and moaning louder and louder into the kiss. He stops right before you cum, you feel so close and you are so desperate that without even thinking, you quickly bring your left hand between your legs. 

“Not so fast.” Your wrist is suddenly burning from the iron grip he has on it and the more you pull away the harder he grips. You whine and pout in frustration, not even looking at him directly and still looking for a way to reach your high. You are really starting to lose patience. 

He grabs your lower face, making you look up at him. “If you want to cum, you will do it on my cock. Got it?” His stern voice and cold stare anchor you back to reality, and all you can do is nod. 

He doesn't waste another second, grabbing you by the waist making you straddle him. You instinctively hold on to him, and he does the same to you, just he does it for a completely different reason. You held on to his shoulders because a part of you feels safe around him, while he grabbed your hips out of impatience and to teach you a lesson for putting cat ears on him. 

You try to wriggle yourself out of his tight grip a bit, usually when you are on top like this you are the one controlling the pace and taking on a more dominant role but this is nothing like that. Instead, he slowly lowers you down on it and you gasp hard even though only the tip is in. 

Truth be told, he is resisting the urge to slam you down on it and teach you a very hard lesson, but ever since he noticed you have not had anyone his size before he has been taking his time with you. No, not because he cares, he just thinks your reactions are hilarious. You went from “annoying and cocky asking him to meow for you” to “crying little mess that does not know what to do with herself every time he thrusts” very quickly.  

He watches you intensely, you avoid looking into his eyes, it makes you feel like prey and as if his darkness is about to eat you alive even though he still has the cat ears on. The more he lowers you down on his cock, the more you are starting to believe you will feel it in your guts. He lowers you down very slowly and it gives a whole new meaning to “feeling every inch of him”. 

Your mind is going a bit blank, all you can repeat is “it is so big” and “I feel so full” inside your head. On the outside you are just biting your cheek trying to not burst out in tears like you did earlier. It feels different when your face is not in the pillow, hiding from his cold sharp gaze. This has you feeling new depths of submissiveness and being vulnerable. Though he can kind of notice you are trying your hardest to keep it cool but that is nothing but a challenge to him. This makes him want to break you more. 

You let out a yelp, because he suddenly slams you down on it with no warning and does not stop thrusting even for a second. You are not looking at him directly but you can tell he is smirking at the way you are struggling to keep it together. 

“You were doing a good job trying to keep it together, but you have to try harder to fool me.” He whispers into your ear as one of his hands starts to caress hair. The contrast of his soft demeanor while caressing your hair and his rough thrusts that have your legs almost shaking has your mind going hazy. “I will break you either way, you might as well give in to make this easier for yourself..” he continues in his dark husky voice as his hand leaves your hair now, traveling further down caressing your clit instead. 

It does not take a lot of movement to make you come undone. All that pent up energy from earlier was just waiting to be released, hanging on by a thread. The higher you feel the lower you will come down, and right now you are not just seeing stars you are seeing other galaxies. He grins as he watches you come. Your beautiful eyes are finally letting those tears out, and this time he can look into them since there is no pillow to shove your head in. 

You feel so drained from that one orgasm, you end up just laying down for what feels like several long minutes. This low really matched the high. 

Suddenly he climbs on top of you, his eyes even more dark and playful now. Before you can even react he, flips you on your stomach.

“Wha-” you blurt out. 

“Who said I was done teaching you a lesson? I was going easy on you earlier..” He snickered as he spreads your cheeks apart. 

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