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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

Errant

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!

JOSH POV

You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it.

“It’s looking like the perforation is healing, but I’m going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. You’ll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.” He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. “Just be sure you aren’t drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.”

You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink.

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing.

Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. It’s eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriend’s car.

Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once you’re close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.

“How was it?” she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.

“Well, it was fine.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.”

She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesn’t sing in the car is when she’s upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.

“What’s wrong?”

She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers.

“You know it’s Valentine’s day, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You’ve never put much stock in the holiday and you didn’t think she did either. The last two years, you hadn’t ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you weren’t around.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together and we’re spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacy…”

“Oh, so you’re mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?” you ask, a little defensive now.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh. I’m just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.” She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, it’s a little condescending.

“It’s a made up holiday anyway. I’ve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didn’t think you did either.” You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.

“It’s not about that. You’re not getting it.” she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.

“Listen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I don’t really know what else you want from me.” you bite back. You’ve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest.

“I didn’t even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.” she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.

“So you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.”

“I just don’t understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!” she says, her voice raising a bit. “You didn’t take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive… I just don’t appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentine’s day and all I’m doing is driving Miss Daisy.”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.”

You know you’re about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.

“I thought I was going to spend my Valentine’s day getting bitten and scratched by your brother’s awful fucking cat, but now that you’re all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while you’re miserable and in pain, and I’m not sure which is worse.”

“You act like I’m home on some vacation… I have a work function tomorrow even if I’m not out at the shows, so–”

“Are you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that you’re home? I guess I’m the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.” She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way she’s driving like a maniac.

“Look, it’s not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. It’s supposed to be nice. It’s a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.”

You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word “date” appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.

“Come on. I missed you and I feel like shit and you’re… you’re all prickly. Can’t we just have a nice night in? I’ll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.”

She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force.

“Okay, okay…” she relents, leaning in to you.

“I love you. You’re still my Valentine, right?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means you’re in the clear.

“I guess so. You didn’t even ask me.”

You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her.

“It was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.” you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up.

“Oh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.” she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently.

—

HER POV

You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual.

“Hey baby, you feel any better?” you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion.

“No. Not really, but it’s fine.” he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, “You want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?” he asks, running a hand over his messy curls.

“I would love to, but are you sure you want to?” you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out.

“Yeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.” he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Um, I don’t know, twenty minutes or so?” you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table.

“Alright, I’ll be up there to change in a minute.”

You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that you’d need one since he wasn’t even supposed to be home for Valentine’s day this year.

You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle.

You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. You’re spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Wow, uh, you know it’s freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.” he says, adjusting his sleeves.

“Yeah, I’ll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.” you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light.

“You sure you want to wear heels?” he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.

You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. “Yeah, why not?”

He throws his hands up, “Just asking…”

You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you.

With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you.

“Hey,” he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. “I’m sorry about earlier… I just have a short fuse when I’m in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s– it’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re here now, right?” you say, offering him a lopsided smile.

He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight.

You’re quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Phil’s Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure you’re seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car.

“Phil’s…” you question, turning to look at him.

“...Yeah? Did you want something else…?” he asks, as if annoyed you’d question his decision.

“You said– You– I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!” you shout.

“I’m not getting a sandwich. I’m getting soup. You can get whatever you want.” he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door.

A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but you’re still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentine’s day date.

“Josh…” you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater.

“What? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah! I didn’t think we were going to fucking Phil’s, Josh! It’s Valentine’s Day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot?!”

He clicks his tongue, and looks around. “Perfect, then we have the place to ourselves.”

Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.

He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What can I get ‘cha?”

“Hey man, can we uh– I’ll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.”

“It’s ahh, it’s Chicken Tortilla.” he answers.

“Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “Babe?” he murmurs, wanting you to order.

“Okay, I’ll do a Cuban, extra pickles.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

He nods, “Outta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.”

“Okay I’ll do the Italian then.” you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.

“You want that hot or cold?” he asks.

“Hot.”

“Think our press is down, but I can check.” he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.

“It’s down, is cold fine?” he asks, him and Josh both staring at you.

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, fine.”

“$17.97.” he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter.

“Oh shit, I didn’t tell him it’s to go. You don’t care if we take it home, right? It’s a little loud in here.” he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.

You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didn’t care that you weren’t at a fancy restaurant. You didn’t care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didn’t care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didn’t subscribe to the holiday. But that didn’t mean you didn’t. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.

He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You can’t help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how you’re feeling as you stand right next to him.

“You wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?” he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“What movie?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I don’t know, a documentary? We can find something, I’ll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.”

You huff out a laugh, “Of course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.”

“What’s your deal tonight, Y/N, Jesus…”

You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.

—

He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll start the fireplace.”

You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room.

You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. It’s no time at all before you’re popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass.

He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. “Really? You’re serious…”

“Serious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.” you quip, swallowing down the first sip.

“You’re really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I can’t have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?” he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.

“What am I playing at? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that just because you can’t drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!” you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have.

He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. “Whatever, I’m gonna take this to the couch.”

You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, ‘Kubrick by Kubrick’ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.

“Josh, really…” you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I don’t want to get too invested in anything, I’m gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.” he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you.

“Can’t we watch something, I don’t know… With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we haven’t seen a hundred times?” you barter, talking over the intro music.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy being home for once?” he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.

Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, you’re positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.

“For once…” you breathe, biting your tongue. “Sure, sure. You uh– you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.” you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs.

Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you don’t.

You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains.

You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldn’t live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.

You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didn’t really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders.

His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

It’s not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. “I know you’re not asleep, my love…”

Knowing you’re caught, you turn softly to your back, “No, you don’t know. I could have been.”

A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, “Not true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.”

“Well maybe I want to tonight.” you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him.

“Josh…” you scold.

“What, baby…” he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. “I miss you…”

“You didn’t an hour ago!” you sneer.

“Yes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day I’m away from you. That’s why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when I’m home?” he pauses, “Every night like this?”

“Josh, I just– Tonight was… Well the entire day, really, was rough. I’m not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.” you answer.

“Well that’s okay, you can just blow me instead.” he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“Oh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!” you mock. “You really have earned it, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself!” you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. “Try that instead!”

“Goddamn you’re being such a bitch!” he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand.

“Yeah! Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Josh!” you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs.

—

JOSH POV

It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least that’s what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.

You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Phil’s. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldn’t see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted.

You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, you’d let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, you’d spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home.

Unless…

A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work.

—

You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. It’s nearly noon and you know he’s in there, but whether or not he’s awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking.

You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door.

“If you’re on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldn’t cover.” he says, raising a brow.

“Can I not come visit my twin?” you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.

“No, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were ‘Fuck off, don’t call me, I’ll see you in three days’, but I could be mistaken.” he says, shutting the front door.

“Listen…” you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.

He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. There’s something different about him, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him.

“Why do you look different…” you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.

“I don’t.” he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you.

You cut your eyes at him, you can tell he’s not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with.

“I need a favor.” you say, cutting right to the chase.

He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue.

“I need you to go to this event tonight in my place, I–”

“No.” he shouts, cutting you off.

“Jake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I can’t if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.” you explain, giving him the shortened version.

“No. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.” Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t fucking dire.” You plead. “I fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please Jake…”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didn’t fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day you’re gonna fuck around and lose her for good.” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. “Hold on, you two fought on Valentine’s day? Fuckin’ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?”

“No, I… Didn’t get her flowers.” you mumble, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Okay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No, I mean, well, kind of.” you mumble again. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Where did you take her Josh.” he demands, crossing his arms again.

“We went to Phil’s…And got…To-go…” you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds.

“The fucking sandwich place Josh, you’re kidding me…” he spits, starting to pace around the room.

“Don’t act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...” you retort, knowing this isn’t helping your case.

He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, “Fuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didn’t she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasn’t she been catering to your ass since we’ve been back?”

“Yeah.” you answer.

“And you didn’t plan a single thing at all…” he confirms.

“Correct.” you say, over enunciating the ‘T’.

“Asshole.”

“Okay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.” you say, gesturing with your hands. “So go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I have plans.” he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Plans?! With who? You don’t leave your house!” you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. “Jesus, I always forget you have that thing.”

“Yeah, I’m not keeping it.” he says, shaking his head. “And it’s none of your business. You’re going to that event. The label doesn’t care if you’re in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who they’re gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you don’t have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and you’ll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.”

“Fuck…” you sigh, laying down across his couch. “I just don’t think it’s gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.” you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics.

You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jake’s from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, pacing around his living room.

“No. Guess fuckin’ not. What are you getting into today?” you ask, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I have… some errands to run. And a few other things.” he says, dismissively.

“Errands and a few other things? Who the fuck are you…” you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.

“I was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?” he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.” you answer, getting more comfortable.

“Goddamnit, Josh… Okay, but you’re leaving when I do.”

—

The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands.

“Well, good morning.” he says, his tone a little snipped.

“Shit, what time is it?” you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck.

“Yeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.” he says, making his way into the kitchen.

“Alright, I’m outta here, good luck with your… plans…” you smirk, making your way to the door.

“Don’t need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.” he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you.

—

HER POV

As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours it’s been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you don’t really count that as a conversation. You hadn’t actually exchanged words since your argument before bed.

The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low it’s barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville.

As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. He’s in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you weren’t so upset with him, you’d kiss him square on the lips.

“I know you don’t want to be here. Just… at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?” He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door he’s holding open for you.

The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You don’t recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once you’re a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice.

“Heeeeey guys!”

Sam’s arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.

“Hi Sammy,” you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you aren’t getting along. It’s nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off.

The line moves again and you’re finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half.

“Can I take your coat, sir?” she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.

“Ohoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!” he says, like he’s some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.

“And now you’re trying to give me your number?” he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you can’t help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and he’s already managed to make your night worse.

Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you.

His eyes scan over your figure- you’re in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where you’re standing. Sam isn’t listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow.

It’s then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst you’ve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesn’t care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than he’s shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He can’t help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Josh’s gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Josh’s eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, “Jesus Christ.” and look away without giving him a reaction.

The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table you’ve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack.

“I’ve never seen that dress. Where’d you get it?” he asks, giving you another once-over now that he’s closer.

“You sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.” you answer dryly. “Or was that your assistant too?”

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing he’s just dug himself a little bit deeper.

“Come to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while you’re away?”

He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice.

“Do we have to do this here?” he pleads. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?”

You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, “Champagne,” to Josh.

He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, who’s giving you a nervous smile.

“Sorry. It’s been… a rough few days.” You confess. “This ear thing has turned him into a jackass.”

“Oh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.” Sam says, commiserating.

“So it’s not just me?!” You laugh, Sam joining you.

“No no. Not just you.”

You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. You’re in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes.

“Oh. Thank you!” He says, a little caught off guard, but he’s Sam, and he’s friendly, and you know he’s going to let you get away with it.

Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. He’s noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and it’s game on.

The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. It’s obvious that he’s the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions.

“Did you trim your hair?” You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man you’ve never seen in your life.

“Yeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.” Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesn’t notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. He’s too easy.

“Why don’t we go find our table for dinner, hm?” Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table.

“You heard him. C’mon, Sammy boy.”

You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm.

You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Josh’s back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out.

As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but it’s mostly quiet as some music plays.

“How’s the chicken?” Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding.

“Really good. And the fish?” You ask politely, but you don’t really care.

“Delicious. Do you want a bite?” He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils.

“Oh, no. No thanks.” You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.

“Do you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.

Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesn’t get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding.

“Oh, that’s really good. I should have gotten that.” He says, talking with his mouth full. It’s then that the stranger next to Sam interjects.

“How long have you two been together?” She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. It’s such a distraction that you don’t hear what Sam says to her.

Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes.

“Can you stop? I get it. You made your point.” Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes.

“What point, Josh?”

“You’re flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think you’re dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?”

Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up.

“I’m gonna go get some air…” he says, departing from the table like it’s on fire.

“I’m not flirting with him. I’m just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?” You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer.

“Cut it out.” He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like you’re some kind of dog.

“Fuck you, Josh.” You’re not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went.

As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but he’s still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent that’s doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively.

It’s quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile that’s more of a grimace, though you know him and know that it’s not his intention.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know that, right?” He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it.

“I feel like I do. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You two are a match made in hell,” he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “But I can’t imagine him with anyone else.”

You roll your eyes. Lately you’ve been feeling like Josh doesn’t even want to be with you anymore, but it’s not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since he’s hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer.

“Can I have a drag of that?” You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You know how he is.” Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks it’s okay to smoke is not cigarettes.

“Just one.” You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He can’t help but smile at you in return.

“Don’t even touch it. He’ll smell it on your hands.” He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale.

Within seconds, it’s pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Sam’s thick Michigan accent as he whines, “OWWWW!” your eyes shooting open.

“I will break every bone in your fuckin’ hand if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.” Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes.

Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, “Jesus Christ.” before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door.

“And you.” Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. “Josh, I’m–”

“Oh, it’s a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.” His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. “Get your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.” he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd.

You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door.

Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body.

“Oh, so you can listen.” he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering.

“What, are you cold in that slutty little dress?” he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. “Seemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.”

He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and you’re a little taken aback. You’ve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it.

“Josh!” you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N?! You think– You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?” he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.” you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right.

“Oh, fuck offff…It’s not the pain meds, it’s you! You’re making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!” he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger.

He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side.

He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville.

“Josh, I–”

“No. Silence. Don’t say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?” he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice.

You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldn’t wait.

Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, he’s still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so you’re forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows you’ve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car.

You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels.

He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, Josh. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?” you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. “Yeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?”

“Steal my spotlight?” he responds, scoffing. It’s clear you hit a nerve there. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.”

“I know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. He’s got his own career now.” you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know he’s about to lay into you for that.

“You should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.” he snaps, his voice raising. “You know, there’s a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesn’t spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?”

You don’t like the direction he’s taking this, and you’re realizing you may have pushed him a little too far.

“I could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?”

“So do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow.

“But you won’t, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you don’t speak to them for days at a time when you’re writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday… and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you can’t be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one texting me from your phone, too!”

He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. “That is not true, and you know it!”

“But it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that you’ll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.”

“Dare me?” he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear.

“I don’t know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldn’t say I’d be surprised with how you’ve been acting lately.” you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house.

“How I’ve been acting lately?” he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.

“Yeah! Like I’m such a burden to bear. Like you’d rather I wasn’t here. I’m practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.”

You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isn’t one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.

“Is that what this is about? You’re still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you haven’t noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you won’t stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!” That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you.

“It’s not about your money and it’s not about me having to help you. It’s about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesn’t even phase you anymore?”

Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so he’s on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.

“And you thought…” he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. “You thought the way to get me to care… was to behave like a little slut?”

The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that he’s not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing.

“I–”

“You know what I think…” he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. “I think that I’ve been gone too long…” his breath is hot on your cheeks. “I think you’re due for an attitude adjustment.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. “Yeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, don’t I sweetheart?”

The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out.

“S’matter, baby? Nothin’ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? I’m right, aren’t I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?” he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face.

“Go ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom.

The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but you’re starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.

You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t care how long or how often he’s away…he just doesn’t know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that you’re on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Phil’s, and that’s why he didn’t take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him.

You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You can’t exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing he’s going to come looking for you.

It’s only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps that’s why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles.

“Tell me you know that I love you.” he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.

“I know you love me.” you answer, breathless as your chest heaves.

His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until you’re flush with his own. “Now, tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I’ll remember.” you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back.

He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. “Now get on the bed like I told you the first time.”

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe.

“Move your hands,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. “You wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why can’t I?”

Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s appraising you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. “My brother?”

You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.

“I bet you wanted him to, though…” he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.

“No.” you say defensively.

“You like Sam because he’s so sweet. He cares. That’s what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know that’s his specialty.”

“I don’t like Sam. I just wanted–”

“Save it.” Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesn’t release his grip on your cheeks.

“If you want to act like a little whore, I’m going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you.”

He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if you’re okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.

“Did you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. “Did you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.”

“No.” you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. “I… I wanted…” you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.

“You never stop talking, but now you’re at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“I wanted you!” you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.

“And you really thought that would work?” he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. “You’re dumber than I thought.”

You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?” he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. “My dumb little brat?”

A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds.

He pulls away from you, “Ah, ah… Be quiet, remember? I know it’s hard for you to do as you’re told, but if I have to remind you again you aren’t going to like what happens.”

You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. “Did I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?”

He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. “I think she misses me so bad that it’s got you acting crazy, my love.” His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again.

“You must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.”

“Josh…” you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it.

You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions.

“Oh, baby, fuck…” he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. “But you do like it. You love it.” He pauses, locking eyes with you. “Answer me.”

“I–Yes…” you breathe, feeling his smile against your core.

“My dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.” he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. “Yeah? More? You want two or three?” he asks, his eyes flicking to yours.

“T-Three.” you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more.

His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know you’re close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink.

“Nu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe I’d like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.”

A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels.

“You know baby, I think I’m feelin’ a little reckless tonight...I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times you’ve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years you’ve been together.

“Are–Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think you need the full effect… need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.” he says, fisting his base.

“Although,” he says thoughtfully before pausing. “… if I’m going to fuck you like a whore, I’m gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understand…” he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.

He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, “Aw, what is it? Did you want my cock?” he asks, a smug grin on his face. “If you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. It’s a shame, really.”

“Please…” you whine, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Oh she’s begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.” he says, rolling the condom over his cock.

“Josh come on, please!” it’s a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you don’t care.

His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. “Don’t be a little brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. “That hu—”

“What? Hurt? That’s typically the point, love.” Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. “Now, do you understand?”

You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so he’ll slip inside you.

“So impatient…” he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously.

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. “You gonna settle down now that you’re feeling nice and full?” he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. “No?” he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that you’ve missed… but it’s not the same.

“No…I wanted you to take it off…” you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.

“You’re in no place to make demands. I’m gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if you’re smart, you’ll say thank you.”

You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.

“But you’re not, are you?” he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. “Can’t be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. You’re mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?”

You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I told you I’m getting mine first. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. It’s getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.

He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.

“...Fuck.”

He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.

“Oh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.” he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels… different. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all…”

He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. It’s more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.

“Oh…” you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants.

“On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until you’re in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way he’s hard and straining against the useless condom.

“Does being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?” he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open.”

You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.

“More.” he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, “No.”

Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not he’s going to take the condom off.

It’s sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue.

He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesn’t seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck.

“How’s it taste, baby?” he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesn’t let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth.

“You better think twice before you complain.”

You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way he’s managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Nothing to say?” he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.

He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling.

“You’re starting to smarten up.” he mumbles. “Little brat.”

He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. “Back on the bed, all fours.” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.

You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further.

“You’re trembling. You want it so bad don’t you…” he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Want to feel my nice warm cock inside you…Nothing but me and you…You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby…”

“Yes.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t…I should put a new one on right now.” he says, the clench of his jaw audible.

He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.

His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. He’s struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips.

You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade he’s chosen for the evening. “Fuck, Y/N… I– I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. “I hate that I can’t live without you. I hate how much I love you. You–I can’t deny you anything…Not ever…” he pauses, his chest heaving. “Can’t you see that?”

“Josh…” you beg through panting breaths.

“Not yet, you’re gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?” he says, struggling to stave off his own release.

“I– I can’t…” you whine.

“You will.” he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, swear to god I’m gonna– fuck…”

“Josh please, please!” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“My little slut begging to cum, oh you’re a fucking vision… My angel…” he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. “Oh goddamn, you’re not a fucking angel though, are you… You’re straight from hell.”

His hips start to falter, and you can tell he’s close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips.

“I know I said I was going to get mine first, but you’ve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.” he says, nodding his head.

His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips.

As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he can’t hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back.

The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. “A much better shade on you, darling.”

With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. “Stay there, don’t move. I don’t want a mess on the sheets.”

You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is.

You figure he’s heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening… then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize he’s downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment he’s dealt you this evening.

It’s a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea?

You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.

“I made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.” he says quietly. “I figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.” His tone conveys that he’s remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. “Listen, I didn’t mean to get so… worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.”

You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.

“I’m sorry I pushed you that far…” you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.

You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough he’s back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.

“I picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of things…I couldn’t get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely… so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how they’d feel when I got back home and in bed with you.” he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. There’s almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart.

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.” you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. “I’ve been really hard on you.”

“Hard on me?” he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.

“I just… I haven’t been really considerate about your ear and the stress you’re under and I think I’ve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. “I haven’t exactly made things easy on you…” he says, his voice a little small. “I think–no, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and I’m sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And I’m sorry about tonight, fuck, I’m just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and I’m just really, really sorry.”

He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a brat, and I’m sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I just– I wanted your attention…and I know it was stupid and immature… I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.” you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes.

“And last night, you just wanted a night in and I was…less than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with me…but I couldn’t see that. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re doing your best and I’m sorry I was ungrateful. I’m happy that you were even home. I’m happy I can take care of you while you’re here.” you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. “I missed you last night…”

He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. “I missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?” he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours.

“Can you forgive me?” you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.

“Baby…” the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

“Can I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrots…” you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest.

“And I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us… I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?” you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten.

“Oh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!” he gasps.

You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, “Of course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.”

You feel his body relax against you again, “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks, turning his head to face you.

You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. “A lot?”

“More than that.” he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing.

“I love you, alot.” you reply, peppering his face with kisses.

“But there is something that I want to talk to you about…” he says, his voice growing a little more serious.

“W-what?” you ask nervously, pulling away just a little.

“I know you’ve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeks…And I’ve really been looking forward to it too…” he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?

“Yeah…” you breathe, anxious to hear what he’s about to say.

“So, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isn’t able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinator…It really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I just– I know that it’s gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably won’t be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.” he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. “I just don’t want you to come and feel ignored...”

“So I’m not–”

His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “So, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. It’s so beautiful and I know you’re going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.” He kisses your forehead before he continues.

“And before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldn’t be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happened…” he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. “So, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?”

Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.

“That sounds so perfect,” you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. “My coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax season…”

“I’m sure they’ll be okay.” he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “They probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.” You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.

“They better not have! I’m out for one day and the wolves descend?”

“I’m sure they’ll be there waiting for you Monday.” He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. “But just in case… Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?” he mumbles softly.

“Oh, I’d love that…” you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

“It’s a date, my love.”

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stayconnecteed · 3 months

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❪⠀🪐.⠀say i'm what you need⠀𓏔⠀lee know⠀❫

☆ㅤlee know x afab!reader⠀★⠀3.3k words

warnings / note: this is just a silly fic based on my lovely @skzms minho's drabble 'minho in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! ♡ i listened to say i'm what you need by låpsley while writing this, ofc. and it's just some thoughts about how minho and you met, but from your point of view.

You knew it was pouring outside the bar, but you didn't care. That night you had gone out with your friends in the area you lived in, escaping the rain on short runs from bar to bar, spending the money you had saved for the occasion, the shifting spring weather announcing that there was not much time left before the end of your last college term. You had met in your dorm room to get ready, glasses of cheap alcohol and makeup products everywhere, your favourite playlist playing in the background as you exchanged skirts and tops and little hair hacks, laughing and telling each other the latest gossip. And you kept laughing, showing off the dress you were wearing for the first time that night, while you danced with your friends downstairs in the bar where you had arranged to hang out with other students from your faculties.

It was those moments, your mind free of worries and exams, simply enjoying the present, with a couple of drinks downed and the music flowing through your body, in which you felt more alive than ever. And it showed. You became a magnet for anyone who approached you, inviting them to meet you with the beautiful smile that curved your lips and narrowed your eyes, your extroverted energy blending with the innocent look in your irises. You had greeted most of the people in the bar, most of them accepting your hand shake with a complicity of who had already shared nights of fun by your side, and the few that hadn't, accepting your touch with confusion written all over their faces.

You exuded confidence, in that silky dress you never usually wore, with its thin strings crossing your bare back in smooth motions, and the empty glass of rum and coke in your hand. Or so Minho had thought when he had really seen you, your hips moving under your best friend's hands like a leaf swaying in a current of air, your hands in the air and shouting the lyrics of the song at full volume. When he had entered the bar where Chan was waiting for him, the first time he had saw you at all, you had approached him, even if you had no idea of who he was, welcoming him as if you were lifelong friends, only to disappear as quickly as you had arrived, leaving with you the breath that had gotten stuck in his throat.

And after that first interaction you'd felt his eyes on you all night, following you around the bar, running over your skin as you'd used the dance to get attention you already had anyway. You had laughed when you had pretended to slide your own gaze around the room and made eye contact with him, his ears tinging with a reddish hue that the darkness of the night didn't allow you to see, but the sheepish smile he outlined as he averted his eyes from your figure giving you to understand everything you needed to. Your best friend had dared you to kiss one of the guys in the bar in exchange for a drink, and you wondered if he would be the one suited for your little games, despite his self-conscious aura.

That's why you knew you had fallen for him. You, never one to turn down a juicy challenge, had detached yourself from your friend, approaching the counter after shooting a quick glance at the guy, more than willing to steal a kiss and get on with your night. But as soon as he joined you, ordering what he had seen you drink so far, his nervous smile creating butterflies inside you, and you greeted him again, it was clear to you that this challenge was not going to do any good. First, because you didn't see yourself capable of doing that to him. But also because you were sure that once you tried him, you wouldn't want to stop. So you stayed next to him, your shoulder brushing against his, exchanging hellos and names, telling him who you were and what you did, listening to him tell you about his work and his family, who your friends were, where you came from, what you wanted to do with your lives. And by the time you left the bar, cheeks flushed as your hands accidentally touched, you felt like you had known each other all your lives.

You had had breakfast together, once the sun had risen, in a nearby coffee shop, reluctant to let the moment end, stretching the conversation until the bubble inevitably burst. And when he had accompanied you to your residence, your breaths drawing trails of steam barely perceptible in the air, he had quickly stammered something about your phone number, and you had not been able to deny him, so you took the device from his trembling hands and wrote it down among his contacts, absolutely sure that it was impossible for that midnight bond to go any further.

But you were surprised to wake up two days later with a couple of messages from an unknown number, simple words that hid a fear of rejection that you could not see, but that Minho had felt as he wrote it. And in that first chat interaction, which had been an aberration to all the ones you had had so far, you formally and politely agreed to meet again. Later you would smile as you reread it, noticing the urgency in your messages, that hidden truth that screamed that you didn't care about the place, that you just wanted to see each other again, but that you weren't going to confess it because it was too soon.

Actually, with Minho nothing had been too soon. Somehow, every step you had taken, however small, had seemed the size it deserved at the time. You had feared that the spell you had fallen under that night was over, but when you arrived at the café where he had asked you to meet him, time seemed to stand still around you. Not in the dreamy way of every romantic movie, time slowing down when you made eye contact, but you were so at ease with each other that the numbers on your phone screen didn't seem to move, engrossed as you were in your conversation, in each other.

Minho had remembered the order you had made at that first hurried breakfast, and when you arrived he waiting with the steaming mug in front of him. He greeted you with a shy smile, one end of his lips curving more than the other, looking down nervously. One of your favourite snacks was also waiting for you, a detail that made you squeal with excitement when you told your friends, noticing how attentive he had been to everything you said. And by the time you realised it was way past breakfast time, the clock ticking just at one o'clock, you smiled when you saw in his eyes that even though it had been hours, just for both of you it had felt like a few minutes.

And the days turned into weeks, and your get-togethers became more frequent, always brightening your days. Waking up in the mornings was wonderful, just because when you unlocked your phone you had a "Good morning" from him, accompanied by a photo of his cats, or a selfie, just before he left for the gym. And you had developed an amazing ability to invent excuses, each one worse than the next, just to spend a few more seconds by his side, even if it meant asking him to accompany you home, or inviting him to dinner at one of the restaurants he had written down to try together.

The best were the memories, and the first times. You couldn't forget the first time you'd noticed how he tried to be the one to walk closer to the road, and how you'd noticed it ever since. A couple of weeks after you met, on your way to nowhere, just walking around, a car had passed too close to you, and he had bent down to tie his shoelaces, even though they were perfectly knotted, only to gently push you to the safe side of the sidewalk. You had watched his frown soften, continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened, but the relief was evident on his face. And when you got home you relived it in your mind, and your heart was filled with warmth by his antics.

And the first time he had touched you was still etched in your memory. You had noticed that Minho was not much given to physical contact, and you had respected that, so every little interaction, every brush of his skin against yours, sent shivers down your spine. But that time had been special, and he hadn't been able to refuse. You knew it was chilly outside, but as clueless as you were, when you left home you had only grabbed your favorite leather jacket. As you headed to the new restaurant Minho had discovered and offered you to go to that night - where they supposedly made the best sushi around - you had started to shiver. You didn't feel it was that cold either, but it was seeping through the thin fabric and soaking into your bones. He noticed right away, but it took him a while to muster the courage to stop you in the middle of the street, take off the scarf he was wearing and tug it into place around your neck.

Your reaction, you thought, had been pathetic. Your face falling uncertainly, your eyes anywhere but on his, another shiver running through you and not because of the cold, your fingers atching to take his hands in yours. You had noticed the way his fingers had brushed your collarbone the same way he had, but you had been petrified, not quite sure what to do next. Minho took the initiative, eternal gentleman, taking you by the hand, and you just ignored the rushed way your heart was pounding, the beats echoing in your ears, clumsy steps to follow his determined strides.

The first time he had invited you to his place, a casual evening with his friends, so you could get to know his friends. How it hadn't taken you two seconds to strike up a conversation with them, finding common points and shared hobbies, exchanging phone numbers and laughs, appreciating how easy-going they were. You knew Chan, whom you had seen many times in your favorite pub, and also Seungmin, the first in your class, and the one you talked to for hours. You could feel Minho's eyes on you as he bit his nails, half paying attention to whatever Jisung was telling him, and you tried to smile at him or make eye contact with him, to see if he would come closer, wishing he would come closer, just to feel his presence next to you. But he didn't, and during the walk back to your flat seemed he to be too much in his head to engage any conversation.

The first time he slept over at your apartment, at a point in your relationship where you can't even remember how long you've known each other because the answer always seems to be "since always". You had spent the entire evening watching movies and anime, sitting on the couch, so close that you could feel each other's body heat, yet miles apart. By the time you realized, as it had happened so many times before, instead of a few moments Minho had been there all day, and it was too late for him to return home, so you offered him to spend the night with you even though you wanted to beg him to stay. And he, unable to refuse you anything, accepts. And waits for you looking at his phone while you take a shower, seemingly calm, although once outside you fear you have made him uncomfortable because he locks himself almost instantly in the bathroom, mumbling an excuse between his teeth. You sit on the couch, taking the spot where he had been, your favorite sweater slipping its sneaky black fabric over your shoulder, but by the time he sits down next to you again that distance is more present than ever.

And the memory of his touch, which you spend longing for every time you allow yourself to think about it, a dangerous recurring thought in his presence. It is unusual for him to hug you, only two or three times that you keep in your heart as the greatest of treasures, and at such occasions when he only wrapped his arms around you to keep you from breaking into pieces, because you had asked him to, because he was able to make you forget what it was that had made you suffer so much. And the first time you were the one who witnessed that vulnerable side of Minho, that night when your phone rang before the hand of the clock brushed midnight, when Chan begged you to come, and before he finished talking you were already on your way out the door, your heart in your throat.

The way you hadn't bothered to put on a coat, and you knew Minho would scold you, but you couldn't think, not when he was suffering. So you drove to his home, your badly knotted converse stepping on the gas pedal to the legal maximum, and rushed up the stairs, throwing yourself at him the instant he opened the door for you, his face hiding in the crook of your neck, the strands of his hair brushing against your nose. And you had both closed your eyes, him fearing that by parting you everything would collapse, that it would all be a dream, you tightening your grip as if the magnitude of the force you used would be enough to free Minho from his grief. And when you heard the first sob you didn't move, a warm, soft statue he could trust and lean on, until he was ready to speak.

But when hearing the mewing of one of his cats you noticed him twitch, and you let him go, his absence heavier than the worst of regrets in your mind, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted you to do. You don't leave him, you don't push him away, you just stand by his side, trying to figure out what his condition was due to. When he explains it to you, his teary eyes exuding exhaustion, you decide to take the lead, finishing preparing the dinner he had left half made. You make sure he's fed, that he doesn't go into a trance, while you fetch Soonie's carrier, the sick kitten that had alerted Minho, and carefully lay him down inside, stroking his fur as you hear him cry out. And then you accompany his owner to the vet, staying beside him while they examine the cat, letting him nap on your lap while they operate his pet in the adjacent room, moving in for a few days to his apartment to take care of the little family Minho has formed.

And during those days you come to understand how deep the bond you share is, when you see his toothbrush next to yours and it seems like the most normal thing in the world. When you wake up in the mornings and find him sitting next to you on the couch, staring at his kitten, slowly recovering but certain that he will be fine, and you gently pull him up, whispering silly nothings to him and accompanying him to his bed to rest, always staying out of his room, respecting his personal space. When hours later he wakes up, and even with his eyes clouded by sleep he mumbles a "thank you", his raspy voice talking about your caring nature and the plate of food you've just left in his hands. From the first moment you had fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle, and you had never wanted to develop that sense of familiarity, too busy forgetting your surroundings and losing yourself in each other.

But there is something that has changed in his gaze, and there is something that has changed inside you, and in the loneliest moments of the night you realize that this routine you have developed while living with him is too inherent in you, and that you need him to need you in that way. Not broken, not sick, just that he wants to have you close, that he can't breathe knowing you're not there, that he longs for your presence even when you're just a few feet away from him. Because that's the way you love him, and if it's not reciprocated the pain may be too much for you. You need him, because it's him, because Minho has made his way deep into your soul, and has decided to stay. And because if at any moment he had to leave you, you would lose a part of what makes you who you are.

That's why you think you are dreaming the night you fall asleep on the couch, while watching a movie. And it's a beautiful dream, because amidst the haze of sleep you are able to hear Minho's tentative voice whisper a quiet "I love you", almost as if it had slipped out. You don't know if it's real because it's not the first time you've dreamed it, because the certainty that you're in love with him warms your heart and makes you smile even in your worst moments. But the trembling lilt in his voice as he utters those three words sounds different that time, and it hurts you to suggest the idea that he really told you, but it hurts you more to think that he would never be able to say it, not even in the privacy of his living room.

But the next day you decide you don't care. Because you've always felt that genuine connection with him, and his nervous gesture has never changed since he's known you, but mostly because you need to know it's true. When you wake up, the blanket you had laid out anyway the night before is carefully draped over you, and Minho is gone, but the space next to you that is shaped like his body is still warm, so you make your way with clumsy steps to the kitchen, sitting down in one of the chairs. You watch him prepare breakfast with quick movements, and you stare at him with that love-struck silly face you know you only make when your eyes fall on him. And just as it had happened to him the night before, it slips out.

"I love you" you say, almost a chuckle, as if you can't believe you're really blurting it out. And you see the expression on his features change, and for a moment you think it was a mistake, that you should have swallowed the words. But then he scoops you up with a half angry scowl on his face and places you on his lap, the hopeful gleam in his eye accompanying that question he asks you, wanting to know if you're serious, if you're not joking with him. And like every time you feel his touch against your skin you melt, nodding quickly, your heart pounding. You hear him mumble something about how you shouldn't be throwing those things out like that, to protect your heart, but you couldn't care less because then he whispers "I love you too" and you feel his lips against yours. And you kiss him like you need him to breathe, you kiss him because you know he's all you need in your life.

taglist: @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @starlostastronaut · @manuosorioh · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @atinyniki

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#stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #lee know #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #☆ㅤ🪐 writings!!#☆ㅤminho recs!!

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thesecretmansion · 4 months

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heyyy could you please write smth where remus is with a taller reader (think 5'10 or 5'9) and other girls are talkinga bout how she won't fidn love bc guys will be intimidated and then this absoloute GOLIATH of a man (remus) appears and like hugs her and the girls have to shut up. also could you please please make her a girly girl. Im so tired of tall girls always being portrayed as masculine.

thanks a tonnnnnnnn!!!

"I mean she's pretty sure but she is just… so tall"

"Yeah I mean what guy would want that"

"Brad told me that guys like short girls specifically ones at yknow what height"

You heard all of these comments but none really stuck out to you. They were all phrases that you had heard before throughout your life. You were above average and lived in a town with mostly below average girls which made you seem even more massive. The gaggle of girls picked up their volume as they got closer.

"It's a waste she doesn't play basketball"

You almost let out a snort at that one. You were highly uncoordinated when it came to sports. You had in fact been pushed into basketball when you were younger but when it became clear that it was not something you enjoyed, you dropped out.

"I wonder how tall she is exactly"

5'10. That's how tall you were, give or take a few centimeters. You checked the time. Remus was supposed to meet you at 3:30 and it was currently 3:45.

"And she wears heels to parties. She is SO brave"

"Right? I wonder where she gets her clothes"

They couldn't be serious. You felt your eyes roll. They were acting like you were some ginormous creature and not 4 inches taller than them. You checked your watch again.

"I just wonder how hard it is for her to find a boyfriend?"

You heard someone behind you call your name and as you turned you caught a brief glimpse of the girls mouths hanging wide open. There a few feet in front of you was your glorious boyfriend holding flowers.

Remus hustled to catch up with you and gave you a sweet hug. His arms were huge as they wrapped around you and you felt bad for the way his poor back had to bend in order to give you a proper hug.

"I got these for you as an apology", He blurted before you could say anything.

"Remus", you laughed as you accepted the flowers, "you could have just called"

"Yeah but...", He trailed off as he shrugged. You craned your neck up even further too look him in the eyes. You felt your eyes crinkle from your smile.

Your smile only got wider as he grabbed your hand to walk. And it didn't even twitch when you passed the group of girls who were talking.

"Is that her boyfriend? Crikey how tall is he?", an incredulous voice spoke up from the group.

"6'6", Remus called over his shoulder smirking as he did so.

They quickly turned as to make it look as if they weren't staring but you didn't even notice too infatuated with your Goliath of a boyfriend.

heyy. I hope you liked this. my writings a bit rusty but I swear this time that I will actually write anything you guys send in within reason. I got a bit carried away with the comments. I'm not that tall myself (5'5) but there was a girl at my hs that was 6'2 and I wanted to be her so badd. Also unrelated fun fact but ginormous isn't a real word. Its a combo of gigantic and enormous and was first used in ELF.

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #marauder era #marauders #the marauders #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era #the maruaders #tall!reader #even taller remus

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seivsite · 11 months

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YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR STEALING MY HEART .ᐟ

synopsis: blue lock boys react to you arresting them for stealing your heart (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

includes: ( separated ) isagi yoichi, kurona ranze, yukimiya kenyu, chigiri hyoma x gn!reader. it’s way longer than what i intended to write so yeah, established relationship, a bit chaotic, ( part one ) — wc: 1507

ISAGI YOICHI

“Isagi, can you please come here?” you called out from the couch. He immediately stopped whatever he was doing and rushed to your side. Since you rarely use his last name and typically use his first name or pet names, he became concerned, thinking that he had done something wrong.

Isagi’s eyes widened in surprise as his hands were bound by a little cloth. He looked at you, confusion written all over his face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

You smiled mischievously and said, “I am arresting you for stealing my heart.”

Isagi’s confusion turned into a mix of surprise and amusement as he realised it was a playful declaration. He chuckled and shook his head. His face flushed a faint shade of red, and his ears tinged with a rosy hue as he mustered a response. “I apologise for unwittingly stealing your heart, but I’m afraid I can’t return it to you,” he expressed.

You pouted in response and retorted,

“Well, if you can’t return my heart, then you’ll have to pay a fine.” You adopted an arrogant tone, playing along with the role. Isagi couldn’t help but tease, smirking slightly as he asked, “Oh? And what’s the fine, Ma’am?”

You assumed a thoughtful pose, pretending to consider the fine. However, Isagi saw it as an opportunity to free his hands and cup your cheeks, kissing you passionately. It caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Isagi pulled away, a playful smile on his face as he asked, “So, is that satisfactory? Are you happy now?” Your silence and flushed face spoke volumes, and Isagi chuckled before pulling you into a loving embrace for the rest of the day, considering it his ‘payment.’

KURONA RANZE

“Ranze-chan,” you called out, gesturing for him to come closer to you.

“Yes, yes, yes, what is it? Do you need anything?” he asked, walking towards your sitting form on the bed.

“I have something important to tell you…” you began, looking into his eyes and holding his hands. Kurona looked at you accusingly.

“And what’s that?” he tilted his head slightly, waiting for your answer. You continued mischievously,

“You’re going to be arrested.”

“Uhm, what? You’re joking, right?”

He looked at you with an awkward and confused expression. Then he took a step back.

“Are you serious? Are you not joking?”

He tried to stay calm, but anxiety was evident in his eyes. The idea of getting arrested didn't sit well with him. It sounded scary.

“Why?! Why is that going to happen?” he stammered, panic evident in his eyes.

“For stealing my heart~” you winked at him and stuck out your tongue.

Kurona blushed heavily, his eyes widening in surprise. His jaw dropped open as he stared at you in disbelief and shock. For a few seconds, he was left speechless, unable to find the right words to reply. He just looked at you with flushed cheeks, appearing very happy. Excitement filled his smile as he took a step closer. He still seemed to be in disbelief, not expecting that answer from you.

“Fortunately, you can avoid it by giving a certain someone cuddles and kisses,” you continued, raising a finger.

His face turned completely red, and his jaw dropped open again. The blush on his face indicated his surprise and embarrassment. He stood in shock, cheeks still flushed, unable to say anything. He looked as if he had been hit by a truck. In a good way, of course. He was incredibly happy but also a little embarrassed. It was adorable to see him in this state.

Gradually, he became more composed and finally closed his jaw. He chuckled softly, cheeks still flushed, and nodded.

“Well, I guess I have no choice then.”

He started walking towards you, a gentle smile on his face and a loving gaze in his eyes. He closed the distance between you two and placed his hands on your face. He was very close now, about to kiss you on the lips.

YUKIMIYA KENYU

You finished your photoshoot with Yukimiya and now you're back at your shared home, a lavish apartment with large windows and glass doors overlooking the city. Yukimiya sat on his chair, smiling at you while holding a glass of orange juice. He motioned for you to sit down on the sofa and smiled.

“The shoot went great, yeah? I hope you didn’t get too tired today.”

“Yeah, it was. How unfortunate though, I just got a call earlier,” you said, taking a seat opposite him.

“A call? What call?” Yukimiya raised an eyebrow in confusion. After asking, he took a sip of his orange juice and waited for your response, his smile still on his face.

“Yeah, they told me you might get arrested if you keep doing this thing,” you said, looking up towards the ceiling.

Yukimiya raised his eyebrow in confusion and put his glass down.

“Arrested? Why?” He leaned towards you in curiosity, still looking at you with a confused expression. “What did I do?” He raised an eyebrow as he leaned closer, waiting to hear your reasoning or answer.

“Yeah, something about stealing my heart,” you smirked at him.

Yukimiya was stunned and couldn’t help but turn bright red at your remark. His eyes widened in shock before he regained his composure and chuckled. He looked at you, leaning closer.

“That’s a nice line. Did you practice that?”

He smiled at you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“Hmm, perhaps. Did you like it?” you tilted your head, leaning closer to his face. He was startled yet again as his cheeks started to turn bright red.

“Hmm, I liked it. You have a gift for making those kinds of cheesy pickup lines.”

He was still blushing hard as he looked at you and smiled. Yukimiya stared at you for a few seconds before he snapped out of it and realised how inappropriate he was being. He sat back on his chair and chuckled nervously. His face was still bright red, but he tried to ignore it.

“I’m sorry. That’s probably very embarrassing for you.”

He sighed and took another sip of his orange juice.

“What you said was very cute. I was just taken aback, that’s all.” He smiled politely and waited for your response.

“Awe, isn’t this the time you give me a kiss, Kenyu?” you pouted at him.

Yukimiya’s face turned even redder as he was taken aback by the suggestion. He was silent for a while, cheeks still bright red.

“I…” he hesitated.

He seemed to want to kiss you but appeared frozen in the moment. You took the lead by placing his glass on the table and leaned closer to give him a kiss on the lips, holding his cheek in your free hand.

Yukimiya was surprised by the suddenness but couldn’t avoid your kiss. He remained frozen and shocked as his face turned an even brighter shade of red. He was silent for a while before the realisation of you kissing him hit him, causing his heart to skip a beat. After the initial shock, he kissed you back, pulling you even closer.

You pulled away and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded, smiling at you and chuckling.

CHIGIRI HYOMA

“Hyoma, do you want to know a secret?”

“Hm?” Chigiri looked up at you with a raised and curious brow, smiling softly.

“Enlighten me.” Chigiri said in his soft voice, leaning in closer to hear your secret.

“You’re hereby arrested for stealing my heart,” you whispered to him.

Chigiri’s eyes widened in surprise, and he felt his face and ears heat up.

“H-huh?!”

He stammered awkwardly, a soft smile adorning his lips as he stared at you. His face turned beet-red, his heart racing, and he started sweating from the flustered feeling.

“Hmm, for your punishment, you have to give me 50 kisses!” you teasingly said, not thinking he would actually follow through with it.

Chigiri blushed even more and gulped as he looked directly into your eyes.

“50 kisses..?”

He repeated quietly, slowly scooting closer to you. His heart raced, and he looked up at you, giving you adorable puppy-dog eyes. A few strands of light pink hair covered his right eye, and his long, dark eyelashes contrasted his ruby red eyes. His eyes seemed a bit dilated due to his blushing. He gulped nervously before finally nodding his head.

“Okay…”

“Great! Let’s start with this,” you said, giving him five pecks on his lips while holding his cheeks in your hands.

Chigiri blushed even more, and a loud ‘mmph’ sound escaped his lips after the first five pecks. You held his face in your hands, rendering him speechless from embarrassment. He looked down at his shoes, sweating as his face turned beet red. Chigiri looked back up at you and gave you a timid smile.

“Hehe, don’t get speechless just yet. There’s more where that came from. Get ready,” you winked, pulling him towards the couch.

NOTES. i made another one bc i miss my pookie wookies.

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

#( ru’s works )#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock imagines #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #kurona ranze #kurona ranze x reader #kurona x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x reader

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lemon-world1 · 1 year

Text

You're everything I never knew I needed. │Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

I’m fully aware of the inconsistency in my writing/posting. I’m even more aware that there are many similar fics, but... It’s never enough. I just had to. I’m a sucker for our boy Frankie taking care of his girl. Hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, period pain

summary: Your period came unexpectedly just as Frank comes to see you after being away from NYC. It's pure fluff.

Not everyone can say they're friends with the most badass vigilante in New York City. You and Frank have forged an unbreakable bond over countless nights spent stitching up his bullet-ridden body. He'd crawl to your balcony like a wounded animal seeking shelter, and you'd nurse him back to health.

Your friendship was simple, you took care of him, and he took care of you. He'd fix things around your apartment, like the water heater that blew up or carry your groceries to your apartment. But it wasn't just his actions that spoke volumes. You could see something in his eyes when he looked at you - a hidden feeling.

Sometimes, Frank's PTSD would get the best of him, and he'd lash out at you. But you knew it wasn't his fault. You stood by him, no matter what because you knew what he went through. You were always there for him, no matter the cost.

You never told Frank how you felt about him, but you didn't need to. He knew, just like he knew, how much you meant to him.

...

It's been a while since you last saw Frank. He had told you he would be out of town for a bit, which left you stuck in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts and the TV. You'd become accustomed to being on call in case he needed you, causing you to lose touch with most of your so-called "friends." But you never gave a damn about them. Frank was the only one who mattered in the big apple.

You had expected tonight to be just another dull evening spent munching on chips and binge-watching another crime docu-series on Netflix. You had passed out in bed, cuddled under the blanket you used to cover Frank with after a long stitching-up session.

But at two a.m., you jolted awake to a familiar pain stabbing your gut. You didn't bother tracking your period calendar because you hadn't been with anyone for so long that you stopped caring about when it would come.

Shit. You cursed as you realized your bed was stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. This can't be happening. Today was the day you had to pitch your new designs to your most critical client, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with the aftermath of a messy period. You had no time to wash your sheets, deal with the cramps, or even shower at this godforsaken hour.

You needed relief fast, but when you reached for your painkillers, you remembered giving them all to Frank when you stitched him up a few weeks ago. You searched through your first aid kit for anything to alleviate the pain, but in haste, you knocked the whole thing over, spilling everything onto the tiles.

Arrghhh. You were furious at this point, knowing the nightmare was just about to begin. Over the years, you had become used to being dependent on painkillers; otherwise, your period would kill you. Your ob-gyn had tried everything to ease the agony, but nothing worked, and contraception was out of the question. You always kept your prescription pills close by for emergencies, but not this time.

Forty-three minutes had passed, and you were already showered and dressed in fresh pyjamas. The sheets were washing, and a hot cup of chamomile tea sat on your nightstand. But the pain was creeping in, gnawing at you with every passing moment. All you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket and forget about the world. You tossed and turned on the bed, but the pain persisted. At the realization that you probably wouldn't be fit to get up at 5 and get to work at all, you started panicking. How were you going to cancel the pitch?

My boss is going to fucking kill me.

Well, she might if your period doesn't kill you first. After another 20 minutes, your silent sobs turned into horrific cries from pain. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, the familiar knock came.

Knock. Knock. You looked up and saw a hulking figure peeking through the curtains on your balcony. It was him.

You got up slowly, your feet planted on the ground as you made your way to the balcony door.

Frank knew something was wrong the moment he saw you. He could see the pain etched all over your face. Your puffy red eyes, thick, comforting blanket hugging your shoulders, and forearm holding your belly as if it offered support told him everything.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, his voice breaking as he saw you in such agony. "Is everything alright?"

You said nothing, still gazing at him, unable to process that he was really standing in front of you. His hand reached out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek.

"Hi Frankie, uh... is something wrong? Are you hurt?" He couldn't believe your words. You were in obvious pain and still asked if he was okay. Another piece of his shattered heart glued together at the thought of your kindness.

His hand still on your cheek, he spoke again. "Nah, I just got back to the city. I drove by your buildin' and saw you were up. I figured I'd check up on ya," he said, his voice full of concern.

You cracked a smile, knowing that Frank was always looking out for you. He was the one person you could count on, no matter what.

A visible frown formed between his brows as he realized you were barely standing on your feet. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. You were so small compared to him. He gently stroked your hair and held you tightly, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew something was wrong because you were never hot. He had felt your icy cold skin whenever he touched you, even during the hottest summer days. Without question, he lifted you in his arms and carried you across the room to your bed.

"Frankie, I'm cold," you said, your voice trembling.

"Shit. You might have a fever," he said, his face creased with worry. "Why you ain't wearin' no socks, baby girl?"

Usually, you would melt under his sweet nicknames, but you couldn't even blush right now. He reached for your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest and fluffiest pair of socks he could find. He gently put them on your feet, making sure they were snug.

"You take any painkillers yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of relief.

You shook your head; you could barely speak at this point. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, but you refused to give in. "I ran out of meds. Nothing I have is strong enough," you managed to say, gritting your teeth.

A loud scream left your mouth, making Frank sit beside you on the bed and instantly wrap his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, letting you weigh into him. One of his palms rested on your forehead, wiping your cold sweat from the burning skin, and the other squeezed your hand placed on your belly.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched you writhe in agony. "I gotcha," he said, his voice low. "Just tell me what you need."

You shook your head again, unable to focus. "Just stay," you pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you."

Another hour passed. You still lay there, your body racked with pain. Frank did what he could to ease your suffering, but he knew it wasn't enough. You started to fall asleep but remembered you couldn't be late for work.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you please set my alarm for 5:30 am? I can't be late; I'm pitching a new proposal to a client."

"Is that the big one you was tellin' me about last time?"

"Yeah, it's important," you mumbled again.

"I will." No, he won't. There's no chance you're going to work in such a state. When you finally fell asleep, he knew he couldn't let you go to work in the morning. He took your phone and dialled your boss's number.

You had her saved as "Your Highness," which always made Frank chuckle when you called her that.

Your boss picked up on the first ring. "Hi, it's good you're callin', the-" She started, but Frank interrupted her immediately.

"Mornin', ma'am. It's, ugh, Pete, actually. Sorry to bother you so early, but my girl won't be in today. She's, uh... under the weather," Frank said in a gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I hope she feels better soon. I was about to text her and tell her the client postponed last minute. She can take two days off; she hasn't used any sick days yet. Please give her my regards," the boss replied with concern.

"I will. She needs some rest. She'll call ya back when she can."

"Of course. Thank you for letting me know, Pete. She mentioned you a bunch of times. It's good she has someone to take care of her."

"'Course, ma'am."

Frank made one more quick phone call before he heard you moving. He rushed to you only to find you frantically searching for work clothes.

"Easy there, darlin'. Your presentation got postponed. You got two days off now."

"What? How?"

"I called your boss. Told her you were sick."

"You did what?!" You were surprised and angry.

"Relax. She said you could take your sick days. You go back to bed and get some rest."

"Really?" A huge weight just dropped off your shoulders. "Thank you, Frankie." You were relieved and grateful.

Ding. Dong.

"Who the hell is that?" you wondered aloud.

"Lemme get that. You go back to bed," Frank said, already halfway to the front door.

You were feeling better, but still in pain, so you crawled back to bed and waited for Frank.

"Who was it?" you asked, curious.

"Just a friend of mine," Frank replied as he handed you a package of pain meds. "A combat medic. He knows his way around this stuff."

"I thought you took care of the drug dealers, not became friends with them," you quipped, the first hint of humour in your voice all day.

Frank chuckled. "Anythin' for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at Frank, feeling grateful for his presence in your life.

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Frank, what does that mean? Anything for me?"

He hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "It means I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I'll protect you, take care of you, and never let anythin' happen to you. You're important to me, more than you know."

You felt a warm sensation spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "You mean a lot to me too."

Your heart swelled with emotion as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you understand," he whispered.

As Frank pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. "You should rest," he said softly.

But you didn't want to be alone. "Will you stay with me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, darlin'," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shifted over in bed, making room for Frank to join you. As he settled in next to you, you snuggled up against his chest, feeling safe and protected.

"You know," you said after a few moments of silence, "I never expected to find someone like you."

Frank tightened his arm around you. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone willing to go to such great lengths to take care of me and protect me. Someone so kind and gentle but also so strong and fierce. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Frank's lips curved into a soft smile. "I feel the same way, darlin'. You're the one thing that makes everything worth fighting for."

You sighed contentedly, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Frank's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Frank would face it together.

For years, Frank had been haunted by nightmares, unable to find solace in anything. But with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in ages.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #the punisher x you #the punisher #frank castle #frank castle imagine #jon bernthal #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x you #marvels punisher

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i9messi · 1 year

Note

hii! i haven't seen alot of people write for João Felix so i wanted to request a João Felix x Reader where reader does a prank on Felix by calling him another guy's name and maybe in the end they cuddle and Felix is lying is head on Reader's chest! It's currently 12AM for me and i was craving some Joao Felix 😭! Take care of yourself, love you!<3

Wrong name — João Félix

Word count — 742

joão's masterlist

"What did you say?"

You looked at your boyfriend, noticing that the expression on his face changed completely. He had been smiling moments before, but now he seemed confused and intrigued by the name that had come from your lips.

The thing is, you had asked him to hand you the TV remote, but you had used another name to call him. That had left him static in his place, with a frown on his beautiful face.

"Sorry, João."

"You said Nico. Who is Nico?"

"No one, I just- I got confused."

You were playing a prank on him to find out what his reaction was, you just wanted to know how he was going to react to hearing you call him by another name, and you were watching him right now. He didn’t like it at all.

"How can you get my name wrong? I’m your boyfriend."

"Sorry babe." You tried to act innocent and of course, João didn’t even believe you.

"Who’s Nico?"

"João, I just got confused for a second."

"Fine."

João got up from the coach, in a complete silence that made you realize that you had ruined everything. You didn’t think he’d take it so badly, maybe you expected him to ask a few questions, but not that he seemed offended. You also got up from the coach where you were sitting and tried to hold his hand. Your boyfriend kept walking.

"Babe, don’t get mad, it was just a mistake."

"I’m not mad."

João was so serious, it was obvious that he was angry about your supposed mistake. Hell, you didn’t expect him to be angry. Your boyfriend kept walking and you looked at his back.

"Then, why are you leaving?"

"You better go talk to Nico, whoever that guy is."

João went to the room you shared, closing the door behind him. You thought his anger would go away quickly and he would surely realize that his jealousy was silly, but he didn't return. João didn’t used to be a jealous boyfriend, he usually knew that you were in love with him and you were his. That’s why you decided to play that prank too, thinking he wouldn’t be mad at you.

As you already felt bad about what had happened, you went in search of him. João was lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling. His eyes joined for a moment, until he turned his attention back to the ceiling.

"C'mon babe, we should talk." You walked by his side.

"Won’t you get confused with my name this time?"

"João... it was a prank. I wanted to see how you would react if I called you by another name. I didn’t think you would get angry."

João looked at you silently, beginning to understand that there was no one else in your life. João was your boyfriend and you loved him with all your heart, just like he loved you. Before you met him you didn’t used to believe in soulmates, until him. Now you were sure he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was significant to you.

"But-why? It wasn’t even funnier."

"I know, I’m really sorry now. Please, babe..."

You sat up beside him in bed, joining your hands in a grip. Your voice was a much lower volume from where you laid. João stroked your hand, pleased to solve that misunderstanding.

"Could you forgive me? There is no Nico, it was just a prank. I love you and I could never mistake your name."

"It’s fine, pretty."

One way or another, João ended up lying on your chest, his ear stuck to your heart. You caressed her hair, which was completely disheveled. His arms gently came around you, securing your place. You could stay like this all day, unwilling to do anything but show your love.

His kisses trailed down your chin, leaving love bites on your neck. You felt his hot, sloppy wet kisses all over your body, especially in your lips. You had to gasp for air, but João still leaned in, eyes closed, lips parted, absolutely wanting more.

"I love you. I know I say it a lot, but I truly mean it." your boyfriend said to you, while your gazes met. "Did you love me?"

"I love you so much, and I never want to hurt you, João."

You had the best boyfriend ever.

#joao felix imagines #joao felix blurb #joao felix fluff #joao felix x reader #joao felix #joão félix #joão felix #football imagines #football player fanfic #football players #chelsea fc #chelsea #portugal

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souliebird · 2 months

Note

hi!! i saw your Matt x Reader getting high idea and loved it, but i’m not big on posting my writing, i js do it for fun lol. but yeah here it is, not the exact idea but it was fun to write!!

“hey, you okay?”

“yeah.. yeah i’m fine. can’t sleep.”

your hands trembled slightly your whispers quivered. you had slept an average of four hours a night for the past two weeks, your anxiety had just been… very persistent. mind constantly running laps around worst-case scenarios.

you felt even worse about it because your boyfriend, matt, got an equally low amount of rest. and now you were waking him up with your worries. you put your face in your hands and let out a whine in frustration.

“baby it’s alright, s’ not your fault, kay?”

“i’m just so tired,” your whisper broke midair.

“i know, you’re gonna be alright,” and you believed him for a moment. he took you into his arms and held you tight, whispering reassurances in your ear, having an invisible battle with the volume of your own thoughts.

—————————

the next morning, you met your friend for coffee. you would’ve forgotten that you were supposed to meet her if matt hadn’t reminded you. he had acted energized in the morning, as to not make you feel bad, but you could tell he was tired.

“have you ever considered trying weed? for your sleeping problems?” your friend knew about your issues, and no, you hadn’t considered it.

“no, the smell is awful. you know how matt is about stuff like that,” you mindlessly sipped at your coffee. still not enough to make you feel energized in any way.

your friend shrugged, “well, i am a therapist. that shit works. i get it though,” and just like that the conversation ended, the subject changed. but you were desperate for a solution, and the idea stuck to the back of your brain just like the overwhelming exhaustion of past weeks.

—————————

“baby? what’s up?” matt’s head perked up when he heard your heartbeat, he stopped his braille reader and got up to greet you.

you kissed him back and some small fraction of the world’s weight was lifted for just a moment.

“foggy did like, weed in college, right?” you asked tentatively, matt seemed startled by the abrupt question.

“hey, i heard that! it was definitely a chapter,” foggy called from the other room, now involved in the discussion.

matt tilted his head at you, his way of silently asking a question. he may be charismatic in front of the clients and in court, but at heart, matt only spoke when he felt he had to. you enjoyed that you were one of the few who understood his secret little language of gestures. his head tilt said, “why do you ask?”

“y’know my friend? the therapist? she recommended it for my sleep,” you were still a tad unsure about the whole conversation, “i don’t know. i know you’re sensitive to smells, and i don’t love it either, but i just feel like i’ve tried everything—“

matt cut you off before you started rambling and spiraling, “sweetheart, slow down for a second. first of all, i shared a dorm with foggy, and we live in New York. it’s one of the few smells i barely even notice anymore. second, i know how much your anxiety affects you and your sleep, so if you want to try it, it’s completely fine,” matt rubbed a hand up ad down your arm soothingly.

foggy chimed in, “i still have some know-how from college,” and both you and matt chuckled.

—————————

through your therapist friend, you had gotten some low dose edibles. you hated the idea of smoking, plus this would reduce the smell.

you looked at the clock, 10:12 PM. you held one of the small gummies in your hand, unsure.

matt came into the bedroom from the living room, “how’s it going?”

“haven’t taken it yet. i guess i’m nervous, i never did anything like this in school,” you admitted.

matt paused for a long moment, making his way to sit next to you on the bed.

“…what if i took one too?” he smiled softly, eyes flitting around your face, trying to catch eye contact.

“really?” you felt like you were infringing upon his night enough already on a daily basis.

“it’s really no big deal, i got dragged to a few parties in college. he may not admit it now, but he was a full-on stoner. i probably got a little high just from the second-hand smoke,” he gave you that wide grin you loved, and you giggled.

“…okay. good to know i wasn’t the only goodie two shoes in school,” you smiled as you took a second gummy out of the bag and placed it in matt’s already outstretched palm, which he put in his mouth immediately.

you let out a confident sigh and ate yours, too.

matt sensed that your nerves were still present and squeezed your hand before getting up to do some work, “let me know when it kicks in,” he pecked you on the cheek before going to his laptop in the kitchen.

you just flopped onto your back and let yourself sink into the bed, checking your phone occasionally.

you looked at the clock again right before matt came back in, it was 10:30.

“hey, baby, i think i feel it,” you could tell from the way that his sentence trailed off that matt was definitely high. as you looked at him and felt a sense of pleasant unawareness you realized that you were too.

“same here,” you said as matt practically climbed onto you and spooned you for a few seconds before switching up and laying half on top of you, his arms around you as he breathed you in like a drug. much more powerful than some weed.

“mm my senses are a little duller… can’t block anything.. all of it is you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you felt the opposite. for the first time in a while, your thoughts silenced themselves.

“matt, i think m’ not worrying anymore,” you ran your fingers through his hair lightly. he had just told you that his senses were running amok, and you didn’t want him to get overwhelmed.

“foggy might’ve been into something in college—“ you felt his lips curl isn’t a smile against your neck, “i miss college sometimes. but also i don’t. felt like that was when i was the most blind, right? people treated me very blind. to be fair, i am blind. those glasses probably didn’t help. i like my glasses now. more mysterious. do you think they make me look mysterious?” he mumbled and rambled. you laughed.

“yes, matty, they make you look very mysterious. but i like your eyes without the glasses. a lot,” you admitted in your daze.

“mm, i only like when you see them. or foggy and karen. other people get uncomfortable cuz they can see i’m not looking. i can hear their heartbeats, it speeds up just a little for a bit when i first take off my glasses and then any time i try to look up. that doesn’t happen with you. i love your heartbeat, and how you are. i love you,” he kissed your neck and you felt your face heat up just a little bit. he pushed himself up and off of you with his arms on either side of your torso and kissed you gently but long on the lips.

“i love you too, murdock,” you whispered when he slowly pulled away. you immediately reattached your lips and made a mediocre effort to flip over and straddle matt.

his strong hands helped you, and you leaned down to kiss him, this time deepening the kiss. both of your kisses were slowed by the haze in your minds.

after being in one long, loving kiss for what could have been forever, you pulled away just slightly and realized how much you needed to take a proper breath.

matt chuckled at your panting.

“hi,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, and in those beautiful eyes of his was a look of pure adoration. you saw it in the lines next to his eyes, the way his eyebrows relaxed, and the way his now-wet lips quirked up at the ends.

you ran a hand through his hair, “hi to you too.”

you slid down to lay down next to him, and you both turned to face each other, kissing once more as his hand came up to hold your face.

eventually you found yourself laid between his two arms in a pure state of bliss.

you woke up the next morning more rested than you had been in months, not even remembering dozing off the night before.

Ahhhhhhh I hope it is okay to pay this but I absolutely love it!!!!

I love cuddly high Matt and I love the insight about his blindness and his glasses. 🩷 This is so sweet!!! Thank you so much for sharing this with me! I just want them to cuddle and have a Nice time.

#soulie answers #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader

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greenerteacups · 3 months

Note

Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

#greenteacup asks #lionheart #lionheart spoilers #dramione

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ejoygvf · 11 months

Text

A Bad Day

I don’t really see Josh as much of a hardcore dominant, so this was very different to write but something I needed to get off my chest!

Your day was going from bad to worse. Luckily your wonderful boyfriend was happy enough to be able to change that for you and turn a bad day into a great one.

Content Warnings: 🔞 EXPLICIT Sexual Content!!! Fingering, oral M/F, unprotected sexual intercourse (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) , spanking, whipping, spitting, daddy kink, extreme degradation, mild bdsm, control, bit of fluff and I THINK that’s it. Straight up porn basically.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

———————————————

Your day had been an absolute shit show. The stress that had amounted up throughout the day and you had just about reached breaking point. It had been one thing after another. You dropped your favourite mug in the morning and it had smashed into irreparable pieces, you missed your first train on the way to work and your second was delayed, a dickhead truck driver decided to drive into a puddle and soak you with muddy rain water as you walked along the pavement, you left your work pass at home and were stuck outside in the pouring rain for 15 minutes before security eventually buzzed you in. Yeah, THAT much of a shit show day.

Finally, you were on your way back home from work. It had dragged on for what felt like 15 hours, rather than 8. The train journey home was a lot smoother, thank fucking god. It was actually quite quiet too, which was a relief. You put your headphones in and turned the volume all the way up before slumping your head back into the train seat and taking the deepest sigh, humanly possible trying to figure out how to de-stress after todays events. There was just one thing. One singular thing that could help vanish this shitty day away. Whipping your phone out of your pocket you sped text your boyfriend, Josh.

You: Hey baby, I know you’ll still be at the studio when I get back but hopefully not for much longer, right? I need my daddy and I need level 10, please? Love you

Josh: Angel! Will be finishing up the vocals now and headed home after, so see you soon. Jesus fuck babe, level 10? Been a while, must have had a shit day? Daddy’s got you. Love you too, forever

You: Perfect, see you soon.

You and Josh had been together coming up four years, you were absolute best friends and knew each other inside out. Everyone knew that you two came as a package deal. He was a ray of sunshine, the most energetic human with the widest smile, always had optimism up his sleeve and on top of all that he was fucking gorgeous. The most beautiful dimples, a set of perfectly straight, white teeth with a tiny gap in his front two, caramel coloured eyes and curly brown hair, falling around his face.

Greta Van Fleet had blown up so quickly, it had been a bit of a whirlwind the last few years. They had millions of fans across the globe, people screaming their names at concerts, thousands of comments of admiration on their instagrams. But even with the weight of all of that, your relationship never once faltered. In fact, if anything, it just strengthened. You were so proud of the boys and were lucky enough to get to go on tour with them, so you and Josh didn’t have to be apart for long stints at a time. You had a lovely apartment together in Nashville and work were really understanding when you went on tour with him, letting you work remotely.

Your sex life was a whole different story. Everyone always knew you both as the most loved up, affectionate and gentle couple. Always calling each other pet names, touching in any capacity you could, two peas in a pod. Your sex life was incredible and very different to what people assumed it would be. You’d had a system that you’d built over the last couple of years, using the first two years of your relationship to explore each others bodies, likes, dislikes, turn ons, turn offs and kinks. Your system was simple and discreet enough for the two of you. 1 being loving, gentle, slow and romantic. 10 was hard, rough, bdsm, painful, dom/sub sex. You had normally stuck between 3-6 week to week, rarely ever using 10 but tonight you needed it. Josh knew of your Daddy issues and was completely okay with this name being used on certain occasions.

Finally after what felt like forever, you got through your front door, throwing your bag and coat on the floor beside you before throwing yourself on the plush, burgundy sofa. Your apartment always smelt like incense and was full of plants, colourful art work, Moroccan style rugs and sun catchers. You stared up at the ceiling taking deep breathes and decided to doze off for a bit before Josh got home. Before you knew it, you’d fallen into a light sleep.

You must have not been sleeping long before you felt a finger gently dragging along the bridge of your nose. “Hey baby, wakey wakey. I’ve missed you, it’s been an entire 10 hours since I last saw you.” You heard Josh giggle as he whispered to you. You knew the corners of your lips began to turn upwards but kept your eyes closed. Pretending to keep up the sleep facade, you ignored him, seeing how long it would take for him to crack. “Baaaaabyyyyy!! I’m here, wake up now!” The volume of his voice was definitely louder now and he had began raking his fingers through your hair. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. You heard him let out a sigh of defeat. He knew you were faking it so decided to play you at your own game. “Well, I guess I’ll just go and make myself cum because my little whore is clearly too tired from her day.” He went to stand and you grabbed his wrist before he could walk away, pulling him on top of you.

He chuckled as he fell against you, laying on top of your torso with hands either side of your face. He lifted one of them, stroking your bottom lip with his index finger. “Ahh, did someone’s dreams become a nightmare?” He said through a mischievous grin. “Absolutely Joshy, I dreamt that my boyfriend wasn’t going to be throat fucking me any more.” You gave an over dramatic pout and puppy dog eyes. “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that. Because I definitely will be throat fucking you. Got to make Daddy happy, don’t we?” Before you could say anything else he firmly grasped his hand round your jaw, pushing your lips together. The pain from the inside of your cheeks pushing against your teeth sent a quiver through your body. “Now, from this moment on, you’ll listen to what I say, you’ll obey the rules I lay and you’re going to be a good whore for Daddy, aren’t you?” You nodded eagerly, eyes starting to water. “Good, now taste me.” He spat straight into your mouth before leaning forward to lick across your lips, all while his hand hadn’t moved from squashing them together. “Swallow me down, whore.” You did exactly as he asked.

Within seconds you were on your hands and knees with one of his hands wrapped around your hair, being used like a dog lead. “Follow me, slut.” He pulled you along by your hair towards the bedroom and you crawled on all fours behind him. Your stomach flipping at the thought of what was to come. Your shit day was already starting to wash away, you just wanted to be dominated, whilst simultaneously having the best orgasms you could get and hoping the rest of the world would disappear.

You eventually crawled your way into the bedroom, Josh being almost silent the entire walk there, only a small smirk across his face. “Up, now.” He pulled you up by your hair and he tightened it into his fist, causing your neck to snap back so you were looking up at him. “Go and stand against the wardrobe. Back against it, hands by your sides, palms faced flat against the doors. Don’t fucking move. You got it?” Curious as to what was in store you nodded “Yes.”

A soft slap across your cheek took the breath out of your lungs. “Yes what?”

He asked, holding onto your wrist. “Yes Daddy, I’ll do what you say.” His face lit up “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You filthy whore.” He placed a gentle kiss to your rising red cheek and pushed you in the direction of the wardrobe.

Back against it, like he asked, hands flat and pressed against the door, facing the bed. He was right in your eye line. Breath, shaky with the anticipation of what he had in mind. He sat at the edge of the bed, lent back on his hands, legs spaced widely apart. He had the look of sex in his eyes. He started reaching to the hem of his white jumper, pulling it over his head and winking at you as he threw it across the floor. Next, he kicked off his shoes, took off his socks, all whilst keeping eye contact.

You were practically writhing, stood in your place at the sight of his naked torso, you wanted him so bad. The heat between your legs had been building up long before this started and you could feel your wetness pooling. “So far, so good. You’re doing well for me. Aren’t you, you worthless slut?” The degrading names caused your clit to throb “Yes I am Daddy. Just for you, all for you.” He nodded, hands starting to slide to the growing bulge in his jeans, using his palm to rub over it. “Ahhh fuck…” his eyes rolled back and his head flopped backwards to reveal his delicious looking neck to you. You watched him lick his lips before he unbuckled his belt and placed it on the bed next to him, you knew it was going to be used later.

“You’re gonna watch me, baby. Watch me make myself feel good. You can’t do anything about it but watch.” Your stomach dropped. Oh fuck, how are you about to control yourself? How are you going to manage to stay still through this, you were already dripping at the show he was putting on. His hands were working fast to unbutton his jeans, you hear the zipper and watched him shimmy the denim and boxers off. The hardness of his cock making a slapping sound as it hit the bottom of his stomach. The smirk on his face is so fucking smug and you hate how much you love it. You’re clenching your legs together at the current sight, Josh sat fully naked on the edge of your bed with fuck me eyes.

“You like what you see, don’t you? You’ve seen this cock so many times before baby and you’re amazed every time. It’s yours, all yours. You want it bad, huh?” You stare, almost in a daze and nod your head, licking your lips. His hand makes his way down to the base and starts moving slowly up and down his length, thumbing up to the tip, collecting the drops of pre cum before smoothing them over himself. You can see it practically twitching in his hands. You’re digging your nails into the wood behind you to stop yourself from lunging forward.

“Oooooh shit, this feels so fucking good baby. You have no idea. You like how Daddy’s cock looks in his hand? Mmmm, I could cum just like this.” He licked him lips, staring straight into your eyes with whimpers escaping him and a heavy breath. You were throbbing at the sight. “Come here, baby.” He moaned out. Finally, you thought. You’re going to get to touch him. You started to walk over before his hand came up to halt you. “Uh uh, on your hands and knees, slut. Crawl to me.”

You did just that, no questions asked.

You made your way toward him before kneeling in front of him, face inches away from his cock, you could smell him and see every pulse and vein as his hand slowly worked over it. A light slap across your face snapped you out of your trance and his hand snaked it’s way around your throat with a firm grip. “You’re staring too hard you dirty whore. I bet you’re dripping for me, aren’t you? I want you to strip for me. Make it slow, show me that you’re worth it.”

Obeying his every wish, you slowly stood, keeping your eyes on his big caramel coloured irises and brushed your hair behind your shoulders before starting your strip tease for him. You’d never been overly confident in your body, picking faults and finding new things to be insecure about, daily. But Josh had changed that, he taught you how to fall in love with all of yourself. How to admire every little scar, stretch mark and all the insecurities that would eat away at you. He made you feel sexy, beautiful and confident. So doing things like this in front of him was less of a dreaded thing and more of a thrill seek.

Your shoes and socks were already off and you were just left in black leggings and an oversized hoodie. Thank god you chose today to wear matching underwear. You turned round slowly, back to him, shimmying your leggings down the curve of your ass, giving a spank on your left cheek before taking them off completely, lifting your hoodie to show your ass, giving a little shake. His eyes were lighting up at the sight of your ass shaking in the thong. You very slowly body rolled your way out of the hoodie before you were left in the matching navy blue set he got you one Valentines holiday. You ran your hands up and down your curves, using your finger tips to trace over the cups of your bra and the hem of your thong. You turned back to him, wearing a smug smile.

Josh had dramatically slowed down his hand movements, jaw gaped open at the sight before him. He stood and made his way over to you, tracing his hands over your shoulders before turning you back around, facing away from him. “Touch the floor, baby. I want to see you bent over.” Knees bent slightly, you palmed the floor with your ass up in the air. “Mmm, good fucking girl, such a good girl, baby. You look so good.” CRACK, a searing pain felt across both ass cheeks made you jolt and your knees buckle. Josh hurried to keep you from falling. “You gotta take these whips like a good whore. Stay still. You’ll stay still for me, won’t you? You know the safe word if it gets too much.” The after sting felt so good and you knew there would be belt shaped bruises splayed across you tomorrow. “Yes Daddy, I promise. Punish me.” You sounded pathetic and desperate. The leather hitting you three more times, Josh asking you to count with him with each blow to the ass. Your cheeks were numb by the time he was finished, watery eyes and an almost hoarse voice from your screams and moans.

He knelt down with his face centimetres from your ass. “Such an obedient little slut. So desperate, so pathetic. I love it.” He delicately kissed his way over both your ass cheeks, lightly grazing his fingertips over the raised marks, a slight burn with each pass he made. “Marked the way you should be, by me. I can see how wet you are. Your underwear is practically stuck to your pussy. You’re leaking out the sides, baby. Fuccck.”

He laid his palms flat against each ass cheek and used his thumbs either side of the crack to trace down to your entrance, pulling apart slightly when he got to your pussy. “Looks so good, whore. Wanna taste? Don’t answer that, it’s not a question. Taste yourself for me.” Without hesitating, you slid your hand in between your legs, dipping under the lace and curled two fingers into your entrance, you were soaked. You brought them up to parted lips and sucked off your juice. You tasted sweet, fresh and wanted more. “Mmmm, so good Daddy and all for you.” You could hear him grinning through his words “You’re damn right, you cum slut. My turn. Don’t fucking move.”

His hands made their way to the top of your thong, pulling down gently, hooking his index finger under the thin fabric between your cheeks he pulled forward and let them fall to the floor. “There she is. Pretty, soaked pussy. Ahhh baby, look at her. Almost as pretty as you.” He gave a firm but quick spank to your cunt before leaning forward and blowing gently over it. You were whimpering, your entire core burning, twinging. You were so desperate for just some sort of touch. Then he stood up and backed off. Feeling deflated you let out a sigh. “Aww poor baby, thought I was gonna eat you out? No. You’re here to serve me right now, come here and choke on Daddy’s dick.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, lent back on his elbows, legs slightly spread and he gave you a nod. You hopped down to your knees looking up at him through your lashes and he placed a finger under your chin before grabbing your throat tightly, choking you and knocking the air out of your lungs. “Take that bra off, I wanna see those tits bounce while you suck me.” Reaching behind your back, you released the clasp and threw the bra to the side of the room. Your nipples were already hard and so sensitive so it made you squeal when Josh lent forward twisting them in his fingers. He moaned at the sight of your eyes rolling back at the pleasure he was giving you. “Such a bombshell, baby. Will never get tired of this view. Now put that mouth to good use, you pathetic slut.”

Doing as you were told, you slotted yourself between his parted legs and took him in your hand. It was warm and rock solid, twitching with any movement your hand made. His lips parted and his eyes were fixed on yours. You gave a long firm stroke from the base to the tip, leaving your tongue on the tip, lapping up any pre cum you could, just for a taste. He was impatient, not wanting to be teased, he grabbed your hair into his fist, pulling your head back “Open up baby. Use this and make it sloppy.” He grunted before spitting into your mouth. He pushed you onto his cock, you took him all the way back until you could feel the tip hit the back of your throat. “Ahhhh shit, you dirty fucking slut. Take it all.” He was pushing himself into you, keeping your hair fisted into his hand. Your mouth was full, eyes watering, gagging around his length, you could barely breathe but my god was it making you spill down your thighs. “Mmmm, let me fuck that mouth of yours, stay still for me.” You placed your hands on his thighs, knowing what was to come. He started slowly thrusting in and out of your lips, his mouth falling apart and letting out disgruntled moans with each pass. He was warm and slightly salty from the pre cum, so hard and you could feel every bump, vein and crevice of him. You sucked him in with every thrust.

“So good, such an obedient whore for me. But I’m not ready to cum yet. Up. Stand up, now.” He stood up, pulling you up by your hair and walked you over to the bed before pushing you down. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down so your ass was half hanging off the edge. He knelt in between your legs, taking one of them over his shoulder. “Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this baby.” he breathed, his eyes found yours before reaching down and dragging a finger over your slit. “Tell me. How much do you enjoy having your cunt eaten? You want my face buried in that pretty pussy of yours until you cum on my tongue?” You nodded eagerly holding onto his hand, your other gripping desperately onto the sheets.

With that he gave you a wink and licked through your folds, his tongue flat and wide as he did. Repeating this, he made sure to stay around your clit, sucking gently at it before pushing his weight up on his hands and staring up at you. “Now, be a good girl and ride my face.” he demanded, his pupils blown out, causing his eyes to turn from that caramel colour to almost black. With that, he moved to lay at the head of the bed, grabbing your hand and pulling you to him as you got up on your knees. “Hurry up baby, don’t keep me waiting.”

You crawled up the bed to meet him and straddled his shoulders, peering down at him as he snaked his arms around your thighs. Pulling you in closer, a grin forming on his face as you moved your knees to either side of his head. He leant up and connected his mouth to your waiting cunt. The contact made you shiver, moaning out as he pulled you down onto his face. His tongue made quick work of lapping and licking at your entrance, the bridge of his nose connecting with your pulsing clit each time he moved his face. Reaching out, you grabbed onto the headboard to steady yourself as you begin to roll yourself down, fucking yourself on his tongue. You could hear him slurping and licking, moaning at the taste and feel of you as the grip he had around your thighs tightened. He used his hands to guide your pussy over his face, making sure his nose hit all of the sensitive spots his tongue couldn’t as his mouth paid special attention to your entrance. His tongue flicked around you in the most delicious ways until you felt your legs begin to shake. You could feel yourself getting close, the flames in your stomach getting hotter and coursing through you. Panting and near on screaming, you dropped your head back “Daddy, I’m gonna cum. Please, please can I cum?” You wailed out. “Yes baby, feed me. Let that cunt go.” That was the command you needed, soaking his mouth and chin as he drank you up. He continued to lick and suck at your pussy as his hands held you still over him. You were shaking violently at the over stimulation. “Fuccccck, oh fuck fuck fuck. I can’t Daddy, fuck it’s so good.” He just laughed at you, continuing to hold you in place, knowing it was verging on painful. When he felt satisfied with the work he’d done, he loosened his grip on you and tapped your thigh gently.

“Come clean me up, baby.” Knowing exactly what was expected of you, you crawled over to him and licked over any remnants of you on his face. “Come here good girl, lay on your back. Hold your legs against your chest. Gonna make you squirt, you know I love making you squirt. I want you to cover me.” You lay on your back, interlocking your fingers behind your thighs and bringing them to your chest. He knelt next to you, one hand keeping your ankles together and his other giving slaps to your dripping, overly sensitive cunt. He spat on it before plunging two fingers into your entrance. He started slow, curling his fingers upwards each time he entered, hitting that sweet spot. He used his thumb to rub gentle circles onto your clit as he sped up his fingers that were fucking you. You were panting fast and moans started to fall out of your mouth. Your eyes were rolling back, your neck craned upwards as you used your free hand to clutch onto your tits, playing with your nipples.

“What a worthless slut, you are. Look at this pretty cunt, needs to be filled more I think.” He entered another finger, stretching you open further. “Oh fuck, fuccccck Daddy. So good.” He started to vigorously pump his fingers in and out of you and you could feel yourself getting to your breaking point. Your clit was aching with the contact from his thumb, his fingers so deep inside of you. The sides of your pussy aching as he was pounding his hand against your entrance. “I’m gonna cum daddy, please please. I need to cum.” He smiled, fucked out eyes, sweat glistening over his entire body. “Give it to me baby, squirt all over me.” Just like magic, he released his fingers and started to rub them over your entire cunt back and forth with high speed as your spray hit him, the floor, the bed and your legs. Your back arched high off the bed, the screams were so loud you are sure your neighbours would have heard, you were sweating and you felt paralysed by pleasure. He had his mouth open and tongue out, collecting any juice he could catch as it squirted out of you. “I’ll never get tired of that sight, baby.”

He gave you a couple of minutes to collect yourself, your chest aching from how hard you’d been breathing. You shuffled yourself up to the head of the bed, knowing Josh was ready to fuck. You’d already cum twice and he would want at least two more orgasms from you before he would be willing to release his own. He placed himself between your legs, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the lips. This took you by surprise because whenever you were having level 10 sex, it was almost an unspoken rule that you didn’t kiss on the lips. You smiled sweetly, spreading yourself for him. “Ready for you, Daddy. Want your cock, please.” He ran the tip of his dick through your folds and teased at your entrance, watching your face as he did. “God you’re so wet for me again, didn’t take long did it? You desperate whore.”

The sting of pleasure pulsed around you as you felt Josh’s cock stretch and fill you up. You’d barely just recovered from your last orgasm. He held himself there for a moment so you could adjust to the feeling of him before pulling out of you fully. Thrusting back into your waiting cunt, desperate to be stretched around him again, he lent forward and bit your jaw before spitting over your face and giving a firm slap to your tits. He did this several times alternating between each boob. Each time, you cried out his name, your fingernails digging into his back as he drug you through an inferno of pleasure, pushing you towards the edge of release with each pound. You could hear the squelch of your wetness pooling at your entrance with each thrust. He could tell that you were dangling on the edge of your orgasm, your legs quaking against his body and your arousal soaking him with each thrust into your pussy, he moved a hand between the two of you, circling his thumb around your clit in slow, tight movements.

“That’s my good girl.” he coaxed, thumb still circling your most sensitive spot. As his cock pumped into you more aggressively, his moans now getting louder. “Give it to me baby, I can tell you’re right there.” He spoke with his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, before biting down, sucking a small mark into the skin there as he felt you finally release, clenching around him and crying out his name. “Fuck Josh, I’m cumming, Joshy baby… Ahh I’m cumming so hard around your fucking cock, Daddy.” Slowing down, just pounding as hard as he could every few seconds, he let you come down. “Yes baby, say my fucking name. Nobody makes that pussy feel as good as I do.” He slapped your face, hard before grabbing your throat.

He smiled down at you before making more demands. His sudden movement, or lack there of, caught you off guard. “On your knees, ass up.” He shouted, moving away from you to give you room. When you moved a little too slow for his liking, rolling onto your stomach before pushing up onto your knees, he cracked a stinging slap to the right side of your ass, it would be joining the belt bruises from earlier. “I don’t have time to be waiting for you, cum slut.” You positioned yourself so your chest was pressed to the mattress and your ass was as high up in the air as you could get it. You felt him grab onto your hips, he gave you no time to ready yourself before burying himself balls deep within your tight, wet pussy.

In this position he was able to fuck into you deeper, pulling you back to him with every roll of his hips. The sound of his balls slapping against your clit at a furious pace drowned out both of your moans. You know you weren’t supposed to but you couldn’t help but beg him to fuck you harder and faster. All you could do was grab at the sheets on the bed, your body shaking violently as you climbed towards another orgasm. He shut you up by reaching his hands round to your face, hooking his fingers into your cheeks and pulling your mouth back, using them as reigns. His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot deep within you that so few had found before. He had you climbing that ladder, helping you get closer and closer to the top each time before backing off. He was edging you and each time you would slide your way back into the agonizing pit of darkness that he drug you through with each deep thrust of his thick cock. You felt like you couldn’t take it anymore. You were overstimulated, fucked out, too sensitive, and begging for sweet release. “Please, please, Daddy. Please, please I need to cum. I can’t, I can’t. Please!” You cried out until finally, finally as Josh moved one leg up to rest onto his foot, you felt him at a new angle. This one caused your head to drop forward, white heat racing through your body as that tight coil of desire snapped and sprung loose within you. You clenched down around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing as your arousal soaked him. The noises your bodies made as they met and pulled apart became wet and sloppy.

Josh was about to give into his own release, his body leaning over yours as his mouth fell near your ear. “That’s my beautiful whore, feel your cum round my cock. You hear that? So wet.” He released his hands from inside your mouth and onto your hips again. He pushed one hand onto your lower back, forcing you flat against the bed as he leaned over fucking into you as hard and deep as he could. “Oh baby, that’s it. Take it, fuck. You take my dick so good, gonna cum in that sweet, pretty pussy.” He moaned, releasing his load into your spent cunt. You felt him paint the inside of your walls. His thrusts slowed, faltered, stilled and finally stopped. He pulled out and ordered you onto your hands knees again, so he could watch his cum drip out of you. “Mmm, let’s not have this escape. You’re mine and I need to mark you.” He entered two fingers inside of you, pushing his release back into you. You arched your back at the contact, he was furiously fingering you until you came again, and with both his and your cum on his fingers, he was satisfied.

“Come here, baby. Let’s taste together.” He pulled your mouth to his, dancing tongues and lips messily before he placed fingers between both your mouths, so you could each get a taste. You let out a joint moan at the taste of your releases. “I love you so much, baby” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you too, so so much.” After a little and very gentle make out session, he stroked his fingers through your hair as you spoke about your days before deciding to clean up.

He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bubble bath he had ran. Two bottles of water waiting for you both. He carefully got in behind you. You lay back with your head against his chest as he scattered kisses over your shoulders and neck. He washed your hair for you and made sure your were clean and not too sore after your session. Taking special care of the bruises he had left, being as gentle as possible. “Thank you for making a shit day, much better. Best way to release stress is when Daddy comes out.” You giggled, looking back at him. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and kissed you sweetly on the lips. “You’re welcome my gorgeous girl. You’re worth it. I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry you had a shitty day, but so glad I could improve it. I love you so fucking much.” He placed more kisses over your face. “Now, let’s order some food, you can choose! We’ll cuddle up on the sofa and we’ll stick Shrek on the TV. How does that sound?” He smiled at you. Resting the side of your face against his chest, you smiled up at him. “Perfect, I’m so lucky I have you in my life. I love you, Joshy.”

#josh kiszka fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #josh kiszka #greta van fic #greta van fluff #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka #greta van angst #greta van fleet #greta van meme #josh kiszka fan fiction

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fanaticsnail · 13 days

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⚠️❗️ANIME SPOILERS FOR BENN BECKMANN DOWN BELOW❗️⚠️

•

Sorry for that, but I wanted to put a warning in case others don't wanna know. Okay, so, apparently, on Beckmann's bounty poster, it says he's wanted "Only Dead" rather than "Dead or Alive". I cannot find proper evidence of this anywhere other than internet comments saying so, but I'm gonna roll with it anyway for the fun of fanfic writing.

There's theories about why this could be cause it's pretty crazy to think he's only wanted Dead and meanwhile, Shanks (his captain) is "Dead or Alive" (as far as I'm concerned at least). One theory I saw that stuck out to me was that he might've killed a celestial dragon as the cause. Now, here comes the fic idea, what if Beckmann met someone at Sabaody who was forced to become a celestial dragons wife? I have quite a few ideas on how this would play out, but I wanted to share it with you cause I wanted to hear your thoughts, plus you love Beckmann a lot.

Sorry for the long paragraph btw, hope you don't mind. Also, I have to recommend you listen to Lady by the Sea by Stephen Sanchez while thinking of him. Maybe it's just me, but it gives Beckmann vibes.

Snail: sighs. "Lemme open my WIP list"

I'll Handle It

"Your voice it blooms the flowers on the beach // With lips that glisten in the moonlight every time you speak"

Synopsis: All of it was against your will. It was never your doing, your craving, your motivation, nor your love that drew you to the celestial dragon. It was arranged from before you were born, you trained your whole life to serve him. Your duties as a wife were performed with excellence and grace, only met with violent brutality at the hands of your spouse. Fleeing into the night, you were immediately met with a broad torso, two strong arms, and a kindness in his eyes speaking more volumes than words could ever muster. "I'll handle it."

Notes:

I have so many thoughts, and I took some time to think on it to see what my mind could cook up for you. Let me know if I'm on track for hitting the craving for him in the head.

It might get a little messy with DV implications, I will heavily tag.

@i-am-vita would you read something like this?

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman spoilers #one piece spoilers #beckman x reader

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 2 years

Text

My dear lgbt+ kids,

Many years ago I watched a documentary about interabled couples (meaning that one partner is disabled, the other one isn't).

They interviewed multiple couples and asked how they met, what their friends and family think of the relationship, things like that. I don't remember most of it (I can't even tell you if it was an actual movie-length documentary or just a short piece in the local news) but there was one story that always stuck with me:

An autistic man had a crush on a woman he regularly saw at his doctor's office. So he decided to write her a letter. He wrote down a detailed description (if I recall correctly it was multiple pages long) of how their relationship could look like: date ideas that would be safe and enjoyable for him, situations in which he may require her support or help, possible communication struggles they may face and ideas on how to deal with them etc. The next time he saw her at the doctor's office, he handed her the letter. She read it, smiled and said "This says you can't go dancing with me because loud music overwhelms you. But I really love dancing. Could we dance at home if you are in control of the music volume?". He said "Yes" and she said "Okay, then let's do that"... and they have been a happy couple ever since.

I love that story. Honestly, I wish someone would come up to me and hand me a letter like that!

There are so many unspoken rules in the dating world that (neurotypical) people oftentimes just expect you to know and understand - especially the whole "be mysterious, play hard to get, don't scare people off by being too honest" stuff can be really confusing! His letter feels like an antidote to that. He clearly communicated his individual set of "rules" (boundaries, needs, wants). It may be my autism speaking, but this sounds like the ideal way to start a relationship for me: they were both on the same page from the get-go rather than having to guess what the other one wants.

As someone who has been rejected for being too honest and talking about boundaries too early, it feels comforting to me to know that someone did exactly that and was so successful with it.

I mentioned this old story to a friend a few days ago - and they didn't think it was cute. In fact, they were shocked and disgusted by it. That sounds incredibly toxic, they said. You can't just hand your partner a set of rules at the beginning of the relationship and demand they stick to them forever. Those things need to be an ongoing conversation that both partners get to contribute to. Love isn't a business contract that one person writes and the other just signs off on. Treating it like one is a red flag. And quite frankly, they'd feel super creeped out if a quasi-stranger wrote multiple pages about a relationship they didn't even agree to yet!

And you know what? I absolutely believe that my friend is right - and I also believe that I am right. It could be cute and it could be a red flag.

This goes for all kinds of relationships but it's especially important for those of us who have unique or less common "rules"/needs (which could be because you are neurodivergent, disabled or chronically ill but also be lgbt+-related, e.g because you are ace or aro): Doing things differently is not by default toxic - and not by default wholesome, either.

That letter could be a great starting point for healthy ongoing communication in a relationship... and it could also be toxic if it is used as a binding contract that doesn't allow any further conversation.

Apart from a few obvious exceptions, we can't really make a definite list of things that are always good or always toxic when it comes to dating/relationships - we need to think of things in context. And that goes for the "standard route" as well as for more unique approaches.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

(P.S: For the record, I'm sure that the couple in the documentary does have ongoing, healthy communication!)

#I think it's unlikely that any of you know the documentary since it was so long ago - but if it seems familiar I'd love to know the title!#lgbt #lgbt+

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 5 months

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Send me an anonymous ask completing the sentence "I wish you would write a fic where..."

...you are constantly arguing with your annoying neighbour Mike. Until your anger turns into something else...

Next door

Masterlist

A/N: So this anon ask has been in my inbox for the LONGEST time, and I finally got around to writing this... My brain is on fire right now, so if there are any tags missing please tell me!!!

Pairing: annoying neighbor Mike x reader

Summary: This new guy next door is really bugging you... Until - yet another - noise complaint one night gets a happy ending.

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. Oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), a reflective surface is involved (not a mirror, but ehh), cum play, Mike calls reader 'little missy' once. Oh yeah and they're taking nudes, which I feel I should at least mention.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @sillyrabbit81 @livisss

“Turn the fucking music down!” You slammed your fist against the door for the hundredth time. The left-hand neighbor had always been a minor pain in your ass, but this... Maybe it wasn’t the middle of the night, but the walls of these apartments were pretty much made of glorified rice paper, and you hadn’t bought tickets to this impromptu rave, so...

The door opened suddenly, leaving you standing in front of it, looking like an idiot with your fist raised up in the air. Especially when your jaw dropped to the floor to boot. Firstly, because this wasn’t your neighbor, secondly because the guy in front of you was kinda really fucking cute, and lastly because he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. His chest and face were covered in paint splatter – some dark color you couldn’t quite make out.

“Hi, are you my next-door neighbor? I’m Mike, I moved in like three days ago. I’ve been meaning to stop by!” He stuck out a hand, looked at it, and pulled it back. It, too, was covered in paint. “Right, sorry, just finishing up some painting. Didn’t realize the walls were so thin.”

His smile was so disarming that you were immediately annoyed by it. Nevertheless, you introduced yourself and went on your way. He kept his promise. Approximately. You could still hear the music, but it was a manageable volume, at least.

***

Now that you’d been introduced, Mike seemed to be everywhere. In the elevator right when the doors closed, making you those few seconds late to catch your bus to work. In the supermarket, buying the last of whatever you really needed or liked. Having the audacity to ask if he could borrow some eggs...

But what really seemed to cement your irritation was Blondie – not the band, but the girl you had seen leaving his place at 6 in the morning, when you’d ventured out for a double espresso after already having been kept up all night by... noises of the obvious kind. You’d wanted to slap that fucked-out smirk off his dumb face. And whatever dumb expression that woman had had on her stupid face, too. Not that you cared who he slept with. No, he could fuck whoever he damn well pleased, but he didn’t have to keep you up while doing it.

“Can you bone quieter?” you’d snapped at him when you ran into him that afternoon. He’d grinned. Bastard. And then he’d had the stones to promise he’d ‘try next time’. You honestly didn’t know which had bothered you more: ‘try’ or ‘next time’.

***

“Mike, for fuck’s sake!” Yes, it was the weekend. No, you didn’t have work in the morning. Yes, the movie was only a little loud, and you could technically elect to ignore it. So why were you in the hallway, in your pajamas, making a fuss at Mike’s door? You didn’t have time to think about it, because it wasn’t long before the door opened, and Mike appeared, with a beer in his hand. And wearing nothing but his underwear — boxer briefs with tiny pizza slices on them. Kinda cute. Impressive bu— alright, moving on!

“What?” he snapped.

“Well, you’re obviously dealing with something, so I’m gonna…”

“Got passed over for a promotion,” he muttered. “It’s no big deal.” You’d have believed him if it wasn’t so glaringly obvious that he was lying his ass off. “I’ll turn the TV down. Sorry.”

“Eh,” you said just before he could close the door, “you want some company?”

“Sure,” he said, opening the door again so you could walk in.

“Right, I just poured myself a glass of wine, so I’m gonna go get that, and you can” — you gestured at his mostly naked body — “put on some clothes?”

“Oh… Right, yeah,” Mike said, his ears quickly going red. It was adorable, especially combined with the way he looked at you as he bit his lip…

You retrieved your wine, and joined a now disappointingly appropriately dressed Mike at his place. It was dark – as in; most of the walls were painted a very dark color that you still couldn’t really put a name on because of the interesting lighting. It looked like Mike was singlehandedly responsible for keeping manufacturers of RGB LED-lights in business.

The interior was cozier than you’d expected from a single guy Mike’s age, but that was balanced out nicely by the pretty top-of-the-line gaming PC on the desk next to the couch, and the slightly-too-big-for-the-place TV on the wall opposite the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Mike said, gesturing at the comfy looking couch. “You want snacks? I was going to make myself popcorn.” He lingered by the kitchen counter until the popcorn was done, and then hesitantly joined you on the couch. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked carefully.

His Netflix suggestions were almost exclusively horror — typical — which you weren’t overly fond of — equally as typical.

“You don’t happen to have a blanket?” It was quite cold in the apartment, even though Mike didn’t seem to think so; he seemed quite comfortable in his t-shirt and sweats.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, hopping off the couch and making his way towards the bedroom, only to return moments later with a heap of fabric in his arms.

“Tell me this didn’t touch a naked Blondie,” you said before taking the blanket from him, glaring up at his beaming smile.

“Best I can do is tell you I washed it afterwards,” he answered. Fine. It’d have to do. “You’re going to have to share this, though.” Sneaky bastard! It was a pretty big blanket, but nowhere near big enough to stretch to both ends of the couch. “Come on, Sweetcheeks, I don’t bite!”

You didn’t believe that for a second.

You didn’t want to believe it.

***

“Oh my god, don’t go into the kitchen! Are you dumb?” you yelled at the TV when the characters in the movie made yet another extremely poor decision. Moments later, you hid your face in Mike’s t-shirt when the person in question got slashed. “All these people have a fucking death wish. Why is this fun again?”

“I mean,” Mike muttered, tightening the arm he had draped around you, “this is pretty nice, don’t you think?”

You snuggled closer to him. He was right; this wasn’t so bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all… His fingers trailed slow circles over your arm, moving down — over the blanket, much to your surprise — until his hand was at your waist.

“You’re making a move on me,” you noted dryly as you leaned forward to put your wine glass down on the coffee table.

“Absolutely,” Mike responded equally indifferently. “Do you, eh… want me to stop doing that?”

No.

“Yeah.” What was wrong with you? “No?” Right. “Maybe?” Oh, for fuck’s sake!

“Maybe?” Mike repeated, raising an eyebrow at you. “Can I help you make a decision?”

You wanted to be mad at that sweet smile and those bright blue puppy-eyes that made a mess of your brain — and a second, undisclosed location — but the look on his face did spark the sudden urge to kiss him, which solved the problem you were having nicely.

Although… You could make him try a little harder, right?

“I hope that’s not all you’ve got,” you teased. Flirting wasn’t your specialty — neither was subtlety, so it was very nice that you were just openly discussing how your evening was going to go.

“Babe, I have like… two moves, and you’ve already seen half of them,” Mike replied with a goofy grin on his face. It was so adorable that you had to look away in order to not start giggling like an absolute buffoon.

“Well, what’s the other one?” you managed — barely — while forcing yourself to meet his eyes again.

You felt Mike’s hand on your cheek; he tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours before you even truly realized what was going on.

It was a soft little peck on your lips — nothing like the tongue-heavy drool-fest you had imagined during those nights when his escapades with Blondie had kept you up with nothing else to do but fantasize about your neighbor’s obnoxiously loud sex-life.

In those fantasies, the sex hadn’t been any good.

There had been a few dreams, however — dreams, not fantasies. At least, that’s what you told yourself so you wouldn’t have to take any responsibility for them — in which Mike had been very skilled. The key difference between the two was the object of his desires. Because those dreams sure as fuck hadn’t been about Blondie.

“Good move,” you noted dryly, rolling your eyes as you watched that goofy grin spread over his face again. “Show me again?”

This time, you grabbed the back of his neck when his lips touched yours, and you kissed him back. Hard.

Your sudden outburst made him chuckle, and within seconds you felt his lips part and his tongue slide along your bottom lip, instantly taking you back to those dreams you'd had. A moan escaped you before you could stop it, and Mike took that to mean you were game for more.

He wasn't wrong.

Soon — very soon — he was pulling on your arm in an attempt to move you into a more practical position, and once you let him, he didn't waste a single second trying to get you under him.

His eagerness should have felt different than it did. Juvenile. Insulting, even. Instead, it made you feel giddy and desired, and it turned you on to no end.

His hands were as enthusiastic as his mouth, greedily exploring your body — your chest, in particular. This guy clearly had a preference.

You moaned into Mike's mouth as he roughly squeezed your breast through your sweater, relentlessly kneading the flesh hard enough to give you that faint edge of pain you didn't mind. That said, you could live without it.

“Easy,” you warned him, and at first your words fell on deaf ears. “Mikey. Down, boy.”

He lifted those gorgeous blue eyes of his to look at you. “Sorry,” he muttered, a faint blush covering his ears. “Pretty titties make me a little dumb.”

The… interesting compliment made you laugh louder than you had planned, but Mike didn't seem to mind. He just boldly pushed your sweater up until you saw no sense in keeping it on at all, and it ended up on the floor.

For a brief moment, Mike admired your bra — and by ‘admired' you meant ‘stared at it like he was losing his mind'. He spent more time with it than you'd expected, and his next move surprised you quite a bit, if you had to be honest; he moved his hands down to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing and pushed it down.

As soon as he saw that you were wearing matching panties, he got up on his knees and pulled your sweatpants off, before you even really realized what was going on. The string of profanities Mike muttered under his breath definitely helped you understand what was happening, and you chuckled.

“Like it?” you asked, reveling in the attention he was giving you.

“Sweetcheeks, are you for real?” he said, looking at you as if you were nuts while grabbing your hand and guiding it to his crotch. He was rock hard — which wasn't surprising at all, but flattering nonetheless.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you ran your hands over his length. For a moment you thought that you liked what you felt just about as much as he liked what he saw — and then you looked at his face again, and you were fairly sure you'd never enjoy anything in life the way Mike was enjoying the view he had of you.

That said, the hard-on he was sporting was impressive, and you were more than happy to investigate further.

You sat up while grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Hmm,” you hummed softly. “Can I take a look, baby?”

“Oh, you can do a lot more than take a look, Sweetcheeks,” Mike laughed — but his laughter died down quickly when you pulled his pants down and wrapped your hand around his shaft without hesitation. “God damn, you're not wasting time. Love th—ah!”

You chuckled when his talking was replaced by an uncontrolled grunt as you bent your head and took the tip of his cock in your mouth.

As you'd already suspected, he liked it sloppy; every objectively disgusting sound you made was rewarded with sweet sounds of pleasure, every flick of your tongue made him squirm. Everything about it was fantastic. Mike was grateful and vocal, and no annoying head-shoving moves were made.

The downside was that he must have thought it was pretty fantastic, too, because it wasn't long before you got a somewhat disappointing warning.

“Fuck, Sweetcheeks, I'm gonna cum,” he rasped between heavy, ragged breaths while you just prayed the guy had enough stamina for a second round later on.

He seemed a little surprised that you didn't take your mouth off him after his warning, even going so far as to ask you if you'd heard him, to which you couldn't really respond with anything other than a vague nod and affirmative hum. Just moments later, a seductive look up at him became his undoing.

His sticky, salty release coated your tongue and you managed to surprise Mike again — and possibly even more than before — by swallowing.

“Hot.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t lying, but you didn’t get much time to analyze his expression, because he leaned in to kiss your neck, steadily making his way down, placing sloppy kisses on your skin as he moved down your neck.

You shivered when his fingers brushed past your nipple, which he picked up on. His hands lingered, toying with you through the fabric of your bra while his mouth continued its exploration of your body, all the way down your stomach, and you let out a frustrated moan in anticipation of his next move.

Impatiently, he pulled your underwear to the side and settled between your legs.

“Pretty,” he concluded after taking a look at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. Before you could even reply, you felt his tongue against your skin as he started his next — again; sloppy — expedition of your body.

He was genuinely remarkably good at figuring out what you liked, and soon he found the perfect spot, getting everything right. Rhythm, pressure… everything.

When you moaned his name, he let out an adorable chuckle with a slightly cocky edge to it, but you couldn't be annoyed by the confidence. Good lord he deserved to be a little arrogant. The man had skills.

Of course, it was best not to dwell on the what, how and when of how he'd acquired those skills, and you tried your best to banish any thought that had anything to do with that sort of thing from your mind, the occasional infuriating image of Blondie flashing in your brain as he went along with his scheme to drive you absolutely crazy.

It wasn't long before your legs tensed up — he noticed and hummed appreciatively, looking up at you through the thick, long eyelashes that surrounded those incredible eyes. You only managed to lock eyes with him for a moment before a particularly well-placed flick of his tongue forced you to throw your head back and screw your eyes shut as he worked you over the edge.

Not long after, he got back on his knees, a cocky grin on his face. “You look pretty when you cum,” he noted. “Can't wait to do that again. But now…” He grabbed his cock and gave himself a few slow strokes. So he did have the stamina.

Slowly, clearly gauging your reaction, he teased you with the tip of his cock — laughing again when you whined softly.

“Please…” You barely managed more than a whisper, but he heard you just fine, taking his time to guide himself to your entrance, and pushing into you as slowly as his enthusiastic and horny self could manage.

You relished the feeling of your walls struggling ever so slightly to accommodate him. Through your eyelashes, you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up every so often. God, he was an insufferable jerk, but he was hot and good and adorable, so you forgave him.

After the first few slow thrusts, he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it until it was resting against his chest, a renewed sense of impatience radiating from him — it made you laugh; this guy really couldn't go slow for more than seven seconds before getting bored with it, could he?

“Come on,” you teased, “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

His mouth morphed into a silent O before widening into that smirk again. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “little missy's all talk, huh?”

“I can walk the walk,” you replied.

“Maybe not tomorrow, though,” he said with a (botched) wink. You gently nudged the side of his face with your leg by means of punishment for that horrible joke, but when he responded with a little bite, you groaned.

An even louder moan escaped you when he grabbed your hip with one hand and your thigh with the other, and thrust his hips forward. If this was what he had planned for you now, then maybe he was right after all…

His thrusts were fast and hard now, falling into a rhythm so fast he could barely keep up with it himself — which he soon discovered, causing him to stop.

Without hesitation, he rolled you over and dragged you onto your knees, immediately sliding his cock back into you from behind. It took you a moment to get the angle right, but once you did, you found yourself grasping for a pillow to bury your face in. You knew how thin these walls were.

Suddenly, you didn't find Blondie quite as annoying as before; there was no way to keep quiet.

“I really like this thong, Sweetcheeks,” Mike said while he absentmindedly played with the sheer fabric. He had good taste, you decided. You loved this set, too, and part of you found it really nice that he hadn't rushed to take it off — or tried to take it off at all.

It started to become clear to you that he was going to be able to keep this up way longer than you were, so you moved away, prompting Mike to make a very disappointed sound that made you feel so bad for him that you almost moved right back.

“Sit down,” you said sternly, and he listened immediately, that dumbass grin widening until he was smiling from ear to ear.

It was cute of him to think that he knew what was going to happen… Indeed, he seemed surprised when you didn't straddle him like he was expecting. Instead, you turned around.

“Sweetcheeks, I'm trying really hard to not actually cheer for myself right now,” he laughed when he realized what was going on. He reached for the remote and turned the TV off — and not just because of the particularly unromantic, bloody things that were going on in the movie, but also because the shiny black surface mimicked a mirror with almost annoying accuracy.

Despite your warning that you'd stop and leave him to his own devices if he let out a single peep, he couldn't help himself. “Woohoo,” he blurted out when you guided him to your entrance and sank down on his cock.

“What did I just tell you?” you laughed, slapping his knee to help make your point — it didn't make much of an impression.

“Sorry, the view is just… God, you're sexy,” he muttered before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Alright, I forgive you,” you said with a smile, looking back over your shoulder to see Mike there, with a blissful smile on his face.

When you began to move, you couldn't help but think how you could easily skip your next leg day, because this was hard work, but the appreciative sounds that spilled near-continuously from Mike's gorgeous lips made it all worth your while.

That said, looking in your reflection in the TV, you had to admit it did look pretty hot — and that wasn't even the premium view of your ass Mike was currently getting.

Soon — although, according to your burning thighs, not quite soon enough — Mike’s fingers dug into your hips hard, and his breathing became erratic.

“Not gonna be long,” he whispered barely loud enough for you to hear. “Where… eh…?”

“Wherever you want, baby,” you said in your most seductive tone. It worked flawlessly; Mike let out a pained grunt before surprising you by pushing you off of him and dragging you onto the couch again.

He pulled your panties to the side, his eyes never leaving yours as he gave himself a few rough strokes that finished him off.

“Fuck, I mean… I think I know what the answer is going to be,” he sighed as he looked at the mess he'd made of your pussy, “but can I take a picture?”

You honestly had no clue what came over you, but you answered his question with a decisive nod. The feeling you got when he grabbed his phone was indescribable; filthy, sexy, but mostly taboo.

While you still reveled in that feeling, Mike surprised you again by pulling your panties back into place and running his fingers over the fabric again a few times, soaking it with his cum. You whined softly when he brushed past your swollen clit, sparking your desire all over again.

“You like that, Sweetcheeks?” he asked before pulling you into his side. “Let's see if we can mess up these pretty panties some more, huh?”

He settled on a steady rhythm, leaving you gasping at all the different sensations you felt at once; the coarse texture of the fabric, the slick mix of your own arousal mixed with Mike's cum, the feeling of his teeth on your earlobe and his hot breath on your ear as he moaned and gasped every time you did… It wouldn't take him long to unravel you completely, and he knew that.

“Cum for me, pretty little thing,” he whispered when the final flick of your fingers pushed you over the edge, and you couldn't stifle a scream.

Mike showered you with compliments and sweet little nicknames, stroking your hair and covering both of you with the blanket. You just collapsed into his side and held onto him. ‘Good girl' was a personal favorite of yours, which was odd, because you'd never particularly cared for it before.

***

“Do you want to go get cleaned up?” he asked after you'd just spent a while hanging out on the couch. A faint sense of panic washed over you. Was he telling you it was time to go home? Couldn't you just stay with him a little while longer? Why did he want you to leave?

Luckily, Mike picked up the change in your mood. “After that, we can watch another movie?”

A sigh of relief escaped you, and you looked at the time. It wasn't late yet, you could definitely watch another movie. Maybe then you'd be ready to leave… But even that thought freaked you out a little.

“I'd love for you to stay the night, babe,” Mike whispered, picking up on your quiet panic again.

One quick shower later, you were back on the couch, nestled into Mike's side again. Neither of you had bothered to put on any clothes — it just felt right that way. This time, Mike had gone through the trouble of finding you both a romantic comedy that seemed fun — it was, although the plot was a little predictable and the acting wasn't great. It still beat something from the top 100 worst horror movies of all time by a landslide.

“We could do this again, maybe?” Mike said carefully after a while. “But maybe next time it can be a date?”

“What about Blondie?” you scoffed. It came out harsher than you'd intended, but he didn't seem to mind.

“She's just a hookup,” he answered plainly, “and I obviously won't be seeing her anymore if we're going to start dating.”

“Oh,” you replied. It wasn't clever, but it was the only thing you could come up with. “What if we don't work out?”

“I promise I’ll move out,” Mike laughed, and you joined him — despite that tiny part of you that was absolutely certain the next time either of you moved, it would be into the apartment next door…

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