#I even worked out a little bit today to try and get back into the swing of it since my chronic problems kept me from doing it

[flofaiiry]

how jack abbot shows love

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ told through the five love languages ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

warnings: written somewhat informally (some uses of “i think that…” etc), fem!reader, sort of implied but not specified age gap, in the physical touch section there's oral f!receiving & other sort of smutty details also praise (good girl etc) and a hint of oral m!receiving in the words of affirmation i couldn't help myself, everything else is just fluff!!!

wc: 2.2k

note: wanted to write some cute fluff to try and get outta this mini slump bcs i have been hitting a WALL when trying to write smut lately. i'm not sure if this has been done before but i thought it was a cute idea!!! dividers are by @ diviniyae !! also sorry if some of these are shorter than others :(( send me an ask if there's anything u want me to elaborate on & i'll try my best !!!

♡ acts of service

if you work together jack always comes down from the coffee shop in the cafeteria with two cups in hand. he memorized your order after the first time he heard you say it so he likes to make sure you've always got one at the start of the shift.

jack knows how much you love to cook but hate cleaning afterwards, so he'll slip into the kitchen while you're working & wash the dishes you've used. you always say something along the lines of, "it's okay, i can do it after," but he just shakes his head and says it's only fair that if you cook he does the cleaning.

he fixes things around the house, buys more of the moisturizer you use when he notices you're running low, replaces things you've lost etc etc. what's most important to note is that he never draws attention to the fact that he's done these things. he knows you'll notice, and doesn't feel the need to make it about him and make it seem like he wants something in return.

has breakfast started and coffee in the pot before you wake up & sometimes even brings it to you in bed if he's feeling extra fancy. if you're sick you don't even have to say the word, he's taken everything off your plate and will be there for you however you need him.

"i don't think i can go to work today," you say, voice weak and exhausted. jack has to bite back a smile at how extremely congested you sound. he strokes a hand over your hair, "i know baby. i already called your work 'n told them you wouldn't be coming today." you look at him with a little bit of disbelief in your eyes, "i can't believe they were okay with that." he shrugs, "they weren't. not at first. told them it was doctor's orders, just didn't specify the doctor was your boyfriend." you smile and shake your head a little bit, "i can't believe you." he just leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, "go back to sleep."

he remembers what songs & artists you like and has added them to his playlists so that they come on when he's driving. he loves the look on your face when you recognize the song after a single beat & are amazed at how he knows it's your favourite.

jack has no problem taking on a little extra if he can see that you're worn out or just extra tired lately, if he can take something off your plate & make the day easier for you then he does it, no questions asked- he knows you'd do the same for him if he needed.

♡︎ gift giving

jack is the epitome of a "this reminded me of you so i got it," boyfriend.

out getting groceries and sees a bouquet of flowers that are exactly the same shade as the colour you chose for your nails? they're coming home with him. new local vendor in the lobby at the hospital & they've got all kinds of trinkets he knows you'd love? he's taking out his wallet.

he sees you scrolling on pinterest or tiktok before bed, he notices the videos and images you linger a little longer on & save for later. if there's something you've been eyeing but hesitating on buying- a box shaped suspiciously like that item appears on the kitchen table a few days later.

you make a joke once and call him your sugar daddy or something, he just shrugs and tells you if it makes you happy then he wants you to have it. he doesn't necessarily buy you things to "spoil you," you can afford to buy the things he gets you for yourself, but you often hesitate to spend money on yourself. jack notices, and he hates that you think you aren't deserving of that sort of thing so he takes it upon himself to show you that you are.

and circling back to the bouquet thing- he 100% makes sure you have fresh flowers on the table all the time. it doesn't matter if you've been together for 3 weeks or 3 years, this man will bring you flowers before a date.

if there's something you collect, whatever it may be - cds, vinyls, charms - literally anything, if he's out somewhere and sees them or a specific one you've been looking for he gets it.

"didn't take you as a charm bracelet kinda guy," robby teases coming up beside jack and looking over his shoulder. jack just shakes his head, eyes scanning through the vendor's display, "it's not for me." robby smiles, "ah," he mouths, "for the lady?" jack nods, "she's got a whole box full 'a these things, but somehow no butterflies," his eyes stop on one charm, he picks it up slowly, before showing it to robby, "so i'm getting her the butterfly."

jack never forgets things like your birthday or anniversary. he doesn't need to have them marked down on a calendar or in his phone, he just remembers. for these bigger moments, the gift he gets you is obviously more significant. not to be cliche, but one of his favourite gifts to give you for the occasion is jewelry. probably half of your collection is stuff he's gifted you over the course of your relationship.

he remembers if you're a silver or gold girlie, if you've mentioned liking studs or dangly earrings more, if you like dainty chains on necklaces or more chunky ones. he remembers all of it. so when he goes to the store he tells the associate all this, who then brings out a few pieces they think emulate that the best. he loves the idea of you thinking about him whenever you decide what to put on in the morning, or that when people ask where something's from you'll say, "my boyfriend got it for me."

♡ physical touch

jack loves! to! be! touching! you!!!!! he's constantly got his fingers laced through yours when you're walking together or just near each other. when he's driving, he's got a hand on your thigh. he definitely does the hand on the lower back thing whenever he's guiding you somewhere or you're in a crowded place. he just always wants you to know he's there.

he can tell when you've had a long day at work & will wordlessly come over to you and just let you bury your head in his chest, running his hands up and down your back soothingly and kissing the top of your head. he lets you cry if you need to cry, not saying anything until you're ready & just holding you in the meantime.

he loves loves LOVES when you lie down on the couch with your head in his lap so he can run his fingers through your hair. he finds it so calming & grounding & cute that you fall asleep almost every time he does it.

jack kisses you like the answers to all the worlds problems can be found on your lips. he's more than happy to kiss you all night long and never escalate it into anything more. it's not uncommon for you to just lie side by side in bed, lips moving in perfect tandem, legs all tangled up and hands all over each other.

in bed, jack is a very giving lover. sure, he likes sex, who doesn't, but nothing gets him off more than seeing you feel good and knowing he's the one making you feel that way. his favourite place to be is with his head buried between your legs, fingers working you through your nth orgasm of the night with your hands tugging at his hair because it just feels too good.

all you can see is jack's salt and pepper curls peeking out from between your thighs. he’s already make you cum once but that’s not enough for him. his tongue’s licking diligent strokes up your slit, two fingers curling inside you to hit just the right spot that makes your hips buck into his mouth and your back arch off of the bed. he brings his free hand to your hip, keeping you from squirming too much as he sucks at your clit. the noises you make only encourage him, and you swear every time you moan his name you feel him smile against your cunt.

♡ words of affirmation

phrases along the lines of: "good job" & "i'm proud of you" & "i love you" & "you're so beautiful," fall from jack's lips like they're the easiest things in the world to say. he obviously truly means them but he takes extra care to vocalize it to you because he sees the way you light up when he does.

he’s a big texter for sure, since a lot of the time when he’s at work he doesn’t have time for anything more than a quick check on his phone. before you move in together he texts you good morning & good night every day & asks you if you got home safe. messages you throughout the day if he's not with you to ask how you're doing or ask you if you’ve eaten anything or even just to tell you that he’s thinking about you.

to get a teeny bit nsfw, jack definitely has a huge thing for praise. loooves to call you a good girl, tell you how pretty you are, how good you taste, how well you take everything he gives you etc. he’s very vocal esp when you’re giving him head, telling you how good you feel and how you’re doing such a good job.

if he’s in a store & they’ve got a pretty card he thinks you’ll like, he’ll buy it for you just to write a little love letter in it or something.

jack walks in through the door with a few bags of groceries in one hand and a little pink envelope in the other. he sets down the bags in the kitchen before going over to you to hand you the letter. you take it, a little confused, you genuinely wonder if you’ve forgotten about your birthday. when you open it, it’s a beautiful, fancy hallmark card. inside, a few paragraphs written with whatever pen he found lying around in the car. he watches you read it with a little smile on his face, seeing how it almost brings a tear to your eye when you read it- just sentence after sentence about how much he loves you and how you make every day better by just being in his life and how lucky he feels to have found you.

i’m not sure if this falls under words of affirmation but he definitely loves pet names & nicknames and stuff like that. terms like baby, sweetheart, baby, honey, my love, all of it. even if it’s just a nickname for your first name, he likes to have that sort of special connection with you.

♡ quality time

if he’s not at work or sleeping off a night shift jack is with you.

he loves to take you on dates, whether they’re just simple dinner and a movie’s or more elaborate day trips somewhere or walking around downtown all day. his favourite kinds of dates are the ones where you get to talk- so admittedly movies aren’t his preference. he loooves talking to you, hearing what you have to say, bantering back and forth on a hot topic, and just the sound of your voice in general.

but you’re both busy people, and often don’t have the time or energy to be going out all the time, which is fine because jack is more than happy to just spend a lazy night in with you. maybe you order takeout or maybe you cook something together, as long as he’s with you he doesn’t care.

sometimes though when one or both of you are just absolutely drained, he likes to just do nothing with you. scrolling on your phones with your feet in his lap, wordlessly watching the news side by side. when words are too much effort, he’s more than happy to just be next to you.

jack gives me big reader vibes. one day he takes you to a cute little indie bookstore where you each pick out a book to spend the rest of the day curled up in bed together reading.

he also loves to travel, so you two definitely go on trips whenever your schedules line up. he loves planning itineraries but always works in days for you to just lounge around the hotel or by the pool.

“what’s this?” you ask, nodding at the plane tickets stuck on the fridge. jack looks over at you, “i noticed that we have a week off at the same time next month so i thought we’d go somewhere.” you take the tickets from under the magnet, reading them over. “bahamas!?” you say excitedly once you spot the destination. he nods walking over to you, “needa get out of this depressing pittsburgh winter. spend some time by the beach, drink in hand, getting tanned and attacked by seagulls.” you laugh, and pull him into a hug, “thank you baby,” he smiles into your shoulder, “of course, we need this. been workin’ our asses off lately,” he pulls away to press a kiss to your cheek, the leans in right next to your ear, “plus i really like the way you look in a bikini, so that’s a bonus.”

send an ask if you want me to write one of these for any other characters!!! (robby, pope, etc!!!) or if u want me to elaborate on any points :P

[charlesslut16]

-lucky necklace-

summary : lando always kisses you necklace for good luck ut what happens when you are not there....

PAIRINGS : lando norris x fem!readeer

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you will like this. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR REACTIONS AND LOVE ON MY POSTS LOVE YOU!

masterlist  

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"You forgot something," you called out as Lando stepped out of the McLaren hospitality unit, race suit half-zipped, sunglasses already in place.

He froze mid-step and turned, squinting at you with a dramatic tilt of his head. “No, I didn’t.”

You just raised an eyebrow and pointed to your chest where your necklace sat, simple and familiar — a delicate chain with a small charm he’d kissed before every session since Monaco last year. 

What started as a joke had quickly turned into a ritual: pre-race, post-warm-up, every qualifying. He didn’t leave without it — or, more accurately, without kissing it while it rested on you.

Lando jogged over and stopped in front of you, grinning. “Okay, maybe I forgot something tiny.” It was his absolute favorite ritual, as it included his love and kissing.

“Tiny but powerful,” you teased. “The source of all your speed.”

“I thought my immense skill and jawline were the source of all my speed,” he said, his voice playfully indignant.

“False. It’s me. And this necklace.” You tapped the charm gently.

He leaned in, one hand cupping your waist lightly, and pressed a kiss right to the charm at your collarbone. “There. Luck secured.” 

His lips lingered just a second too long. Just enough to make your breath catch. Then he pulled back, still holding your waist with that same cocky glint in his eye. 

“See you after FP1?”

“I’ll be right here. Try not to drive into anyone.”

“No promises.”

It was a couple of weeks later, and you couldn't be at the race as your work schedule couldn't allow you to go away.

You weren’t supposed to miss Silverstone. It was your favorite track — his home race, your little tradition. Every year you brought him something silly or sweet: lucky socks, bad puns, or a tiny drawing tucked into his gear bag. 

But this year had other plans. Your work had pulled you away just before qualifying. You barely had time to kiss him goodbye, whispering, “You've got this,” and promising to watch from your workplace.

Now, sitting in your work office, missing Lando more than usual, you clutched your phone and stared at the message you’d sent. Lando would do great; you just knew it.

You: You’ve got this. Go be fast and annoying. ❤️

No reply. Not even a read receipt.

You tried not to feel disappointed. He was busy. He needed to focus. You weren’t supposed to take it personally — even if the little charm hanging around your neck felt heavier today, like it missed him too.

Meanwhile, Lando was standing in the McLaren garage, helmet in hand, staring at his reflection in the side of the car. His suit felt too tight. His chest felt too quiet.

No kiss.

No charm.

You weren’t there.

He pulled out his phone and recorded a voice memo in a quiet corner before anyone could notice. He needed to act now; if not he would not get to his full potential.

“Hey, love… I know you can’t be here, but… I’m still going to kiss the necklace anyway — imaginary style. So… mwah. There. See? Lucky again. I love you. I’ll wave to the camera if I get pole.”

He grinned, hit send, and zipped up his suit. He walked back to the car, lighter, like the kiss had really been there. It soothed him; he was ready, and he would win for you, his family, and his fans.

Then he went out and put the car on pole.

Your phone buzzed just as the Sky Sports coverage switched to post-qualifying. Lando’s face filled the screen, grinning and smug, holding P1 like it was his birthright.

You opened the voice memo with shaking hands, and his voice — warm, teasing, just a little bit breathless — made your heart swell.

“I’ll wave to the camera if I get pole.”

Seconds later, on-screen, he threw up a small peace sign as the champagne sprayed.

You wiped at your eyes and laughed.

You (replying): You’re such a sap. I love you. Also, you owe me a grid-side kiss next time I’m there. P.S. You looked disgustingly handsome on the podium.

His reply came almost instantly.

Lando 🧡: I only look good when you’re watching. 🫶 Also, that kiss? Saving it for Monza. Front row. Full crowd. No backing out.

You: Can’t wait. Now go win tomorrow. Also, nice fake kiss. 9/10. Minus points for sound effects.

Lando: 😤 Rude. I practiced that.

The next day you watched the race like it was a film. Breathless. Intense. Loud. And Lando? He was electric. Smooth through corners, aggressive with overtakes, calm on the radio. Like he wasn’t just driving the car — he was the car.

And when he crossed the line first, P1 in bold next to his name, you cheered so loud your dad nearly dropped his tea. You were so happy for him; you knew it would boost his confidence a lot.

The broadcast cut to him on the podium, soaked in champagne, suit half-unzipped, and hair a mess. He lifted the bottle high, turned to the camera, and held up two fingers.

Not a peace sign. Not a celebration.

Just two.

For two kisses.

You laughed, heart aching in the best way.

Later that night, he FaceTimed you from the hotel, eyes tired but glowing.

“Hey, world champ,” you teased.

“Hey, good luck charm,” he replied, his voice soft, full of warmth. “You watched?”

“Obviously. Twice already.”

“You liked my wave?”

“I liked your everything.”

You turned the camera slightly to show your necklace — or rather, his lucky charm — still around your neck, as always. “I missed this,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

You smiled, touching the charm where it lay against your skin. “I wore it the whole time.”

“I know,” he said. “I imagined it. Every lap.”

You tilted your head. “So I am the reason you’re fast?”

He laughed, quiet and sweet. “Nah. I’m fast because I’m a freak of nature. But you? You’re the reason it matters.”

Your throat tightened. “Lando…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m keeping that voice memo forever.”

“Good. I left out the part where I almost kissed my steering wheel.”

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

“I panicked,” he said. “Desperate times.”

“You better kiss me twice to make up for it.”

“I will,” he said. “As soon as you get to Monza.”

You smiled. “Promise?”

“Make it three,” he added, looking at you with that soft, open expression he saved just for these calls.

“Why three?”

“One for luck,” he said. “One for pole. And one for the win.”

[no-144444]

please consider making a part 2 or series out of the wont change k. antonelli story. it was wayyyyy to good to not keep it going 😮‍💨

꩜summary: everyone knew that seat was yours. what happens when your kind-of-boyfriend takes it instead?

꩜pairing: andrea kimi antonelli x fem! reader

part one

“Y/n, focus, last lap starting now.”

You were about to become a Monaco winner. You were about to step on the top of the podium for the 5th time in the season, meaning you’d won every damn race. Somehow you’d dodged Alex’s 11 car pile up. Somehow you’d dodged the walls of Monaco. Somehow you’d done it. This was yours. Pure talent, pure racing, pure skill. No one could take this from you. Kimi couldn’t touch this. 

When you raised that trophy, you didn’t look out at the crowd in front of you, you didn’t care that Toto was standing beneath you, you didn’t notice George beside him, or Kimi beside him. You saw Susie, the woman who gave you a chance. You saw Doriane. You saw yourself, the first woman leading the championship, the first woman to win an F2 race, the first woman to win in Monaco, the winner of Monaco. 

This wasn’t a situation where you had to take it on the chin. You could (and would) gloat all you wanted. This was it. This was showing you were the championship favourite. This was proving your worth. This was showing the teams with a free seat next year, that you would and could work for them and their team. 

Knock, knock. 

Jak walked in, his arms open and ready, the proudest smile on his face, it even made you smile a little bit. “Monaco winner baby!” he cheered, picking you up and spinning you, making much more of a fuss than what you had planned. “Holy shit,” he smiled down at you. “You fuckin’ did it.” 

Jak had always been one of your closest friends, all throughout karting and the switch to single seaters. He was loud and annoying, and you were quiet and stand-offish. He’d practically adopted you on the first day of NACAM Formula 4, which you had to do since no European team wanted a girl. He was kind, he always had been. And when he watched you raise that trophy on the podium today, his own P2 trophy in his hands, he was reminded of something he’d always known, you were the next great. And surely that was something to celebrate, right? 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we’ve to fly to Barcelona tonight,” you chuckled, letting yourself enjoy the hug he was still giving you. He rolled his eyes, taking his hands off you and resting them on his hips, paired with the annoyed look on his face, he looked a lot like his mother. You laughed. 

“You genuinely can’t ever let me enjoy a podium, can you?” he scoffed. “Come on,” he begged. “One drink. That’s it. I’ll let you get back to your ridiculous training regiment tomorrow, just one drink?” 

You knew it was a bad idea, because where Jak was, Ollie found him, and where Ollie was, Kimi was, and when all three of them were together, there was always heavy drinking involved. You thought back to the first night Kimi had ever confessed to you, he was rosy-cheeked and giggly, too drunk to think about what he was saying, and he just blurted it out, in front of everyone. The F1 Academy girls, half the F2 grid, and a bunch of F3 drivers. He got so embarrassed he ran off and nearly cried, until you came over and told him it was alright, that you didn’t mind, that you thought he was cute. He clung to you from that day on. You hadn’t minded. “One drink. Just us.” 

Jak grinned, bright and happy. “Perfect, I wouldn't want it any other way,” he gave you one last hug, and bolted out of your driver’s room, showing you who was waiting behind him.

Kimi. 

He’d seen the whole thing, and that pit in his stomach that had been building for the past 4 minutes exploded when he saw the unimpressed look on your face. He lunged to the door, trying to understand, to rationalise, to explain something. Ask why Jak could hold you like that and not him. Beg you to let him hug you again, or let him celebrate you after his race. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot in and burst through. “Jak?! Seriously?!” he demanded, and all rational thinking went out the window. You ignored him, just going about packing your bag up. “Perché non Ollie? Tanto vale scopare con il mio vero migliore amico.” Why not Ollie? Might as well fuck my actual best friend.

You stared at him, his chest heaving as he pacing your driver’s room. A look he’d never seen before was plastered onto your face, it looked somewhere between disgusted and hurt. He stopped in his tracks, mostly because… well, you were looking at him. For the first time in months. He knew what he said was out of line and disgusting. He knew you wouldn’t take it, and he was already sorry, but the anger and the adrenaline rushing through his veins meant he was fucked. He had no idea what he was doing, or saying, or seeing, but he knew he just wanted you back. 

“Fuck you Kimi,” you scoffed. “Not everything is about you, and not everything is romantic. Jak is my oldest friend-”

“And he’s in love with you-!”

“He cares about me! A lot more than you clearly do-!”

“I called it months ago, I told you he was in love with you, I begged you to ask him to leave you alone-!” his voice overlapped yours as you tried to get your point across, telling him that Jak would only ever be a friend, then you remembered you had absolutely nothing to prove to him. If he wanted to think you were dating Jak, he could think all he wanted. His animated Italian hand gestures held no weight, his words held no weight, he held no weight against you, because he wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. He wasn’t even your friend anymore, and he was barely a colleague. 

He could tell he was losing your attention, but he had called it months ago. He’d brought it up after Imola last year, in your hotel room while you were kissing him. You told him he had nothing to worry about, that Jak was just a friend, that you only liked him. He’d believed you. He still believed you, but it was hard when he wasn’t exactly sure where you two stood.

“Kimi, get the fuck out of my driver’s room, right now,” you tone was firm, dangerous. He stopped again, those big brown eyes pleading, panicked, sad. You didn’t have it in you to care. “Today is my moment. This is my moment, and I won’t let you ruin it with your fucking unwanted jealousy.” 

“So you admit I have no reason to be jealous then? Amore, please,” he reached a hand out for yours, but you snatched it away before he could take it. You leaned in close, so close he thought you might just kiss him. His breath hitched. 

“There’s no reason for you to be jealous, because you’re not my boyfriend, Andrea,” your words were sharp, but their meaning was even sharper. You took a step back. “Now get the fuck out of my room, thanks.” 

Kimi’s heart broke on the other side of the door, and now he had to go race Monaco. Brilliant.

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[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

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Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence,

A/N: So, regarding next week's chapter. I have it done. However, I leave for ‘vacation’ next Sunday. I use that term loosely, lol. I'm going to a theme park with my sister and her family for three days. I'm the only one willing to ride big rides with my older nephew. {Hello Nausea}

Anyway, to be transparent, I'm having a horrible case of writer's block right now. Not just with this but across my entire library of works in progress. I've walked away from here to work on other stories, and I've just been constantly writing, deleting, and repeat. I know you won't care, but unless I can figure out chapter 14, I might hold off on posting chapter 13 until June 14th just to give myself a little more time. Anyhoo, I appreciate you guys!! 💙🩷💚💜

Super light smut below!

Angrily, you open the door to your brother's office with the water jug from the refrigerator in your hand. With wide eyes, he looks at you in confusion as you shake it at him. He holds his hands up and shrugs his shoulders in confusion, and you huff.

“Fill the damn thing up when it gets low,” you tell him.

“How do you know it was me?” He asks, defending himself. “Maybe it was dad.”

“Nice try,” you snap. “Did you forget we used to live together?”

“I forgot, sorry” he apologizes, from where he sits from behind his desk.

“It's little things like filling a damn water jug that Elly will appreciate,” you say. “You found someone who loves you. I don't know why she loves you, but she does. So, don't fuck it up by not filling up the damn jug.”

“Do you need to talk?” He asks, leaning forward on his elbows, resting on the wooden surface of his desk.

“No,” you deny, quickly, and turn on your heel. “I’ll take care of it this time. Just stop being lazy.”

Leaving his office, you go back into the break room and place the jug into the sink. Turning the tap on, you wait as it fills with cold water before placing it back into the refrigerator. Shutting the door maybe a little too hard, you look at the pictures that decorated the door secured by construction themed magnets that ‘Nicky’ had gotten your dad for his birthday one year. You don't know who chose what pictures to display, but it was certainly a variety. Most were you and your brothers at different stages in your childhood on job sites, but then there were more personal. Chris and Elly's engagement photo, Nicky's baby picture, and there was even one of your mom and dad when they were younger. It was when your dad took the company over from his father, and your older brother was on your mother's hip sucking on his fist. It makes you smile. You've heard the story so many times.

“There, she is,” Elly says. Turning to her voice, you stand a bit straighter when she holds the door open for Yoongi, who is wearing his work clothes and glasses. You've never seen him in glasses. Damn it! He looked good! “She hasn't had lunch today. Don't let her tell you otherwise. She gets an hour.”

“Thanks,” he says, nodding softly at her.

“Yeah….thanks,” you say, smiling tightly at her.

Waving innocently at you, she leaves the two of you alone, letting the door shut behind her. You and Yoongi look at each other, both not sure what to say. Yoongi holds his hand out for you to take, and for a slight moment, you hesitate before stepping forward and sliding your hand into his palm. Holding you securely, he guides you down the hall and past your desk where Elly waves happily at you. Flipping her off, she laughs and goes back into her office.

“Where are we going?” You ask. “I need my bag.”

“Nope,” he says. “We are having lunch at my place.”

“But….,” you say, looking around as the two of you step out of the building and continue to walk to his vehicle. “I've never been to your place.”

“I'm not far from here,” he replies, opening your door for you. Staring at him, he motions for you to get in. “I made us some sandwiches this morning. Let's get going.”

Giving in, you slide into his car much like you did before you two had your little falling out yesterday. Buckling yourself in, you place your hands in your lap and literally twiddle your thumbs waiting for him. As he slides into the driver's seat and gets himself situated, he reaches over and stops your nervous fidgeting. Looking at you, he arches an eyebrow in question.

“What?” You ask.

“Do you want to come with me?” He asks softly. “I'm not going to force you.”

“It's fine,” you say, acting like you didn't care either way, making him nod his head, but on the inside, you were shaking. You were headed into an unfamiliar territory. Someplace where you didn't have the advantage of just walking away comfortably. You bet that's why he planned this. He is starting to read you better than you thought. “I didn't know you lived out by my dad's company.”

“Well, I didn't know exactly where you worked until yesterday. You always said you worked for your dad, but you never gave the name of the company,” he explained, finally driving away. “I guess we need to start to get to know each other more.”

“I guess so,” you say, non committedly.

“Like your dads company is one of the top construction companies in our region,” he comments.

“Is it?” You act dumb.

“Not that that matters to me, but he seemed surprised that I didn't know that when we were talking yesterday,” he explains, and you shrug.

“It's not my money. So, what does it matter?” You say.

“I'm not with you for your family's money,” he comments. “You didn't have to hide it.”

Yoongi takes a turn and pulls up to a huge metal gate where he enters a code into a black box, making the gate open. Looking at him with wide eyes, you shake your head and give him a look of disgust.

“What?” He asks as he drives along the road, passing by expensive looking pristine homes.

“You live in an expensive ass gated community, and you need funding for the team?” You ask. “Was I scammed? That yard has a fountain out front!”

“You were not scammed,” he laughs. “Jungkook…. Coach Jeon and I are roommates, along with another friend. I couldn't afford a place like this on my own.”

“Does he know?” You ask, suddenly alert of your surroundings. You look out of all the windows of his car to see if you have been spotted. “I don't think I should go in.”

“He knows,” he confirms and pulls into a driveway. “It's okay. No one else is home.”

Yoongi gets out of the car and walks around the vehicle, opening the door for you, but you don't move. He sighs and reaches in to undo your seatbelt for you. Surrendering, you step out of his car and follow him. His neighborhood was nice, you guess. The houses all seemed to be the same in a scary matching way. Nothing seemed out of place, no kids toys, no sounds, very …. eerie. It's very different from what you had grown up with. You're assuming it's probably an HOA where everything had to be perfect and boring.

Kicking your shoes off, you follow him to the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair at the island. Pointing to it, you sit down, and he goes to retrieve the sandwiches that he made for the two of you that morning. Placing them on the countertop, he goes back to gather several other items.

“You didn't have to make me lunch,” you say. “I had a poptart in my bag.”

He turned from the fridge to give you a look, and you shut your mouth.

“I kept the condiments off,” he said, setting everything out before you and settling into the seat next to you. “Kook and I smoked some meat last night…”

“God, you really are perfect,” you mutter, more to yourself.

“Obviously not since I keep finding some way to ruin it,” he responds as he pushes his food away from him. “What I said wasn't directed at you or Nicky.”

“I know,” you say, looking at your food and feeling your mouth water.

“But that also doesn't mean that I don't see you as his parent because I do…. because you are his parent,” he explains, and you nod your head, wondering if you want to put some bbq sauce on the meat.

You kind of do.

It's the expensive kind.

“I know,” you agree, eyeing the bbq sauce and pickles. “It's a tough situation. I got too pissy over it, and I shouldn't have. I need to work on that.”

“I made a decision,” he says, reaching out to move your face, bringing your attention solely to him. “Next basketball season, I'm not going to coach.”

“What?” You ask, surprised at the words that came out of his mouth. “Yoongi, no!”

“It's gotten so stressful,” he admits.

“Because of me,” you say, standing from your chair and backing away.

“NO!” He exclaims, standing as well and grabbing you so you couldn't get away. “Not because of you.”

“Ara?” You ask, and he nods. “And I keep poking the damn bear.”

“Yeah, she blew my phone up about that last night,” he tells you. “She wanted to warn me that her husband must have told you about our little… you know. I can't block her. I wish I could, but I can't.”

“Don't quit,” you beg. “Nicky looks up to you so much. If you quit, I don't think he will play next year.”

“But it stresses you out so much,” he says, sitting back down his seat and that guilt that has been building finally feels like it explodes. “I hate seeing you… ostracized and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Wait, so you ….are…. you going to quit…. for me?” You ask, poking your finger into his chest. He stares at you but doesn't answer. Rolling your eyes, you sit back down and grab your sandwich, deciding to go with the pickles and bbq sauce. “That is the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“Why?” He asks, sounding offended. “I would still run the program. I just wouldn't coach.”

“I am not worth all that,” you say, biting into the smoky meat.

Fuck!

It was heavenly.

“To me you are,” he argues.

“Well, I'm not going to let you quit coaching for me,” you argue back, taking another bite. “Those boys need you.”

“So,” he pauses and looks down at the kitchen floor. “Is this it for us?”

“What?” You ask, wiping your mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He clarifies his previous questions.

“Are you kidding me?” You say rolling your eyes. “You're amazing in bed, and you can cook. Why would I break up with you?”

“I’m not joking?” He responds.

“I'm not either,” you sigh, putting your food down. Hopping off your seat, you move to stand between his legs and pull him down to look him in the eyes. You guess it was now or never. “I like you, Yoongi. You're, like, really great, and you're really patient with me. I know I’m a handful…. Damn it, I'm not good with this shit…Mmhmmmhh…”

Yoongi covers your mouth with his own, cutting off your attempt at telling him how you feel, and you couldn't be more thankful.

“You should finish eating,” he mumbles against your lips, and your eyes shoot up to his questioningly. “Quickly.”

Swallowing thickly, you nod.

“How much time?” You ask breathlessly as you wiggle on top of his bed.

“Seven minutes,” he answers with his face pressed against your neck sans glasses. “You need to hurry, doll.”

“I'd rather come with something else inside me,” you tease, pressing your hips further against his hand that was working away between your thighs.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, pushing his digits further inside of you, making you cry out. “Sounds like you like it to me.”

“Oh shit, Yoongi!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes back and pressing your head back into his pillow. “Right there.”

“You're a fucking vision, doll,” his rasps against your skin. “Six minutes and we need to be out that door. Come on my fucking fingers right now.”

Gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. Your core tightens around the length of his fingers, causing you to sob out loudly. Your walls pulsate and flutter around and wet his fingers as you float away from your body for a moment.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, coming back down.

“I know,” he says, rolling on his back and throwing an arm over his face to calm himself down. “Damn, I know.”

“What about you?” You ask, panting, looking down at his obvious bulge confined in his dress pants.

“It will go away,” he says, wiping his hand on his blanket.

“That doesn't seem fair,” you say, rolling onto your side to study him.

“I got something better,” he tells you, mimicking your movement and putting his hand on your naked hip. “I got you to admit that you liked me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly push him, making him fall back on his back as you get out of his bed and reach for your skirt. Stepping into it, you tuck your now slightly wrinkled blouse in and look around for your discarded underwear.

“Looking for these?” He asks, dangling them off his finger but snatches them away when you go to grab them.

“Give them back,” you say. “I still have to work.” Laughing, he tosses them back to you and quickly you put them on and run your fingers through your hair fixing what you could. “Am I presentable?”

“You look more relaxed,” he says, rolling off the bed, then proceeds to make his way into his attached bathroom . “We might need to make this a daily thing.”

“In your dreams,” you say and look at his alarm clock on his dresser. “I prefer it when we both enjoy it.”

“Oh, I enjoyed it,” he smirks, coming back out and kissing you. Taking your hand, he leads you through the house and back out to his car. Looking around once more, as he backouts once more, you make him laugh. “What?”

“What?” You ask back.

“You made a face,” he says, pulling forward to drive straight.

“Did I?” You ask.

“Do I not live up to your standard?” He jokes, rubbing your thigh quickly before pulling his hand away as you reach the gate you entered to exit.

“To my standard?” You ask back. “You have been in my little shoe box, right? The three of us are pretty much on top of each other when we are in the same room.”

“Don’t act like you probably didn't grow up in a neighborhood like the one I live in,” he says, focusing on the road.

“I didn't,” you disagree, and you see his brows furrow. “I mean. I did, but not like that. Our neighborhood was fun growing up. We were friends with all of our neighbors. My mom would throw these bbqs and pool parties in the summer and invite everyone. It used to be so much fun.”

“I bet,” he smiles.

“There was this group of boys in the neighborhood. They were awful,” you say laughing. “And for me to say they were awful means they were awful. The summer I turned fourteen, my grandma bought this pink polka dot bikini. It wasn't revealing or anything, but I had spent weeks building up my confidence to wear it during that bbq.”

“What happened?” He asks, turning into the parking lot of your work.

“One of those boys,” you say with an eye roll. “Decided to untie the top, and it completely fell off me. I was so embarrassed. I ran into the house crying and locked myself in my room. My brother was so pissed. He….”

You let your story die out as you look down at your lap. That familiar lump in your throat starts to form, making you bite your lip in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Nicky's dad?” He asks.

You nod your head and cover your face once you feel yourself start to break. You can hear the click of his seatbelt before you feel the warmth of his arm surrounding you. Shaking your head again, you try to pull away from him, but his arms keep you close to him.

“Shh, it's okay,” he whispers against your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you say into your hands. “It still hurts.” Yoongi reaches over and undoes your seat belt. Grabbing your wrists, he gently removes your hands from your face and completely removes the seatbelt from your body. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“We don't have to,” he says, moving his head to try and get you to look at him, but you keep trying to look everywhere except in his direction. “I want you to remember what I said.”

“What?” You ask, looking at him.

“I'm here to help you carry that weight on your shoulders,” he says. “I'm here whenever you're ready.” Wrapping your arms around him once again, he buries his face against your neck in the exact same spot it was less than ten minutes ago. “And by the way, I like your little shoe box. It’s nice and homey.”

A knock on Yoongi's window has the two of you pulling apart, and you look over his shoulder to see your brother wagging his finger at you and then tapping his watch. You pull a face at him and shake your head.

“I guess that's my not so subtle cue time's up,” you say.

“Are you going to be okay?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” you say distractedly, watching your brother, who was still watching you. You try to wave him away, but he just crosses his arms and waits impatiently for you. “I swear I hate him.”

“I really am sorry,” he says again. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I know,” you say, kissing him quickly before you open the door and step out. Leaning back down, you look into the car. “You're not going to quit, right?”

“No, I don't think I could,” he admits. “I'm just hoping our little problem will just… take care of itself one day.”

“I told you. I can just lay low,” you offer. “I have plenty of substitutes that can be there in my place.”

“I can appreciate you wanting to spend time with one another, but you need to take over for Elly,” Chris says, popping his head over your shoulder. “She and I have a meeting to get to.”

“Remind me to elope if I ever get married,” you say, trying to sound annoyed.

“You hear that,” Chris says, looking at Yoongi, making your blonde boyfriend laugh.

Gasping, you shut the door and chase after your little brother the best you could in your heels until the two of you disappear into the building. Unfortunately, the little shit was too fast for you, and he was able to lock himself in his office before you could catch him.

“How was lunch?” Elly asks as she walks by.

“Good,” you answer. “Better than good even.”

“Dessert…. good?” She asks slyly.

“Absolutely,” you reply.

“That's disgusting,” Chris yells from his office.

“That's what you get,” you yell back and head back to your desk.

Groaning, you sit down and log into your computer, trying to figure out how you were going to show your face at practice tonight. Fuck your brother, man.

Little brothers suck.

You were barely one step into the gym when Mark was shaking his head at you. Tilting your head at him, you nod your head backward, and he nods, but you couldn't get turned around fast enough before you were descended upon.

“Y/N,” one mom said, running over to you and latching onto your arm. “Thank goodness you are here. We were so worried that you were not going to come.”

“Why wouldn't I be here?” You question as she drags you over to the bleachers where all the other moms were waiting standing around. Except for Ara, who was sitting and glaring at you. “What is going on?”

“My situation?” You ask, your eyes darting around nervously.

“We had no idea about your…. situation,” mom number 2 says, whispering the last part.

“You being a widow,” mom number one answers, and your eyes widen. “We wanted to help you and Nicky out.”

“Oh….,”you try, but they don't let you get very far.

“I made you a chicken parmesan casserole that can be frozen for up to three months. I wrote the instructions down for you to follow when you're ready to eat,” she says, handing you a tin foiled pan.

“I made you four different soups,” a mom you never talked to before said, handing you a tote bag with four frozen bags of soups. “They too are good for three months. Just pop one in a large pan when you're ready. You can't mess it up.”

“Is everything okay over here?” Yoongi asks, shouldering his way through the bodies of the moms surrounding you.

“No, Coach Min,” mom number one says, crossing her arms and staring him down. “Did you know she's a ….. widow?”

Yoongi looks at you, and you look at him. The two of you just stand there blinking at one another, not saying anything.

“A widow?” He asks, looking confused and biting his lower lip

“She lost her husband,” mom number two explains.

“I know what it means,” Yoongi says. “This is news to me.”

“Well, we've come together to help her and Nicky,” she continues. “I can't cook, but my husband owns Mario's Pizza, and I got three large Pizza doughs for you.”

“Umm,” you say nervously, looking to Yoongi to stop them, but he looks amused.

“I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N,” he says with a straight face. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Mark jumps up to grab the bag she was trying to hand you, as you still look at Yoongi, who slightly smirks and walks away, leaving you to deal with this situation. You don't even know what to do right now. Mom, after mom keeps giving bags and containers for your new friend to hold. Poor Mark looked like he was about to drop everything.

“Umm, thank you, ladies,” you say. “Nicky and I appreciate this so much. Mark and I will take everything out to my car. Thank you so, so, so much!”

Quickly, you turn with Mark right on your heels and head out of the gym. Walking as fast as you could, you scurry through the halls and make it out to your car. Placing your bags down, you unlock your car and open your door. Mark places everything inside your vehicle for you as you watch him, chewing on your thumb nail.

“I didn't know,” Mark starts, scuffing his foot against the asphalt. “I thought maybe you were divorced, but I didn't think you lost your husband.”

“I'm an awful person,” you confess. “A horrible, horrid person.”

“Why?” He asks, clearly confused.

“I'mnotawidow,” you mumble quickly with your hand over your mouth.

“Can you repeat that?” He asks, leaning in close to you.

“I'm not a widow,” you say, looking around, and he straightens back up, and you kick the ground. “Nicky isn't even mine.”

“I'm sorry,” he says, shaking his head, still trying to understand what was going on.

“He's my nephew,” you continue. “His parents passed away earlier this year.”

“Oh,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm sorry. Why keep it a secret?”

“Frankly,” you shrug. “It's nobody's business. He doesn't want to talk about it or get treated differently. So, we just kind of…. went along with it when people assumed I was his mom.”

“Yeah, no, I understand,” he says. “I won't say anything. The ammunition they would have thinking you lied to them on purpose.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him. “Does it make me awful for keeping the food? I can't cook, and that stuff looks pretty good.”

“No,” he says, shutting your door. The two of you start to make your way back to the school. “You still had a loss, so I think keeping the food would still be appropriate.”

Smiling guiltily up at him you couldn't help but feel awful.

You were growing a heart.

Damn it!

“It's not funny,” you say, plopping down on the couch next to a laughing Yoongi.

“It's hilarious,” he replies.

“It's awesome,” Nicky says. “Those moms can cook!”

“This is not going to end well,” you moan, looking up at the ceiling. “I've dug myself into a huge hole. Not only am I dating a coach on the team. I'm dating the president of the program. My dad is going to fund the program next year, and now I'm a widow…. of my brother!”

Nicky and Yoongi burst out laughing, and you rub your hands over your face in misery.

“They looked so excited to help you too,” Yoongi says as he stops laughing.

“Don't tell them the truth,” Nicky says, getting up off the floor. “They might take their food back.”

The two you watch as he walks out of the room and Yoongi pulls you to lean back against him.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You ask, threading your fingers through his.

“I shouldn't,” he answers.

“Why?” You question, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Because, I know what it will lead to,” he explains, and you look offended. “You're louder than what you think, doll. I'm paranoid that someone will wake up.”

This time you laugh.

“What if I promise to keep my clothes on and just…. repay the favor from earlier?” You ask, biting your bottom lip.

Yoongi drops his head to his shoulder in thought, pursing his lips.

“I think maybe we can do that,” he says, nodding his head. “I mean. You could…. lose the shirt, though.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” you laugh, turning to kiss him.

“I really am…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“If you apologize again. I swear to god,” you sigh. “Listen, I made Nicky promise me that if at any time he was uncomfortable with us being together. I would end it. I'm going to make you promise me the same thing. If at any time you get tired of Nicky being a part of me. Just…. let me go.”

“Nicky is great,” Yoongi says. “I swear it wasn't directed at you.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Just promise me.”

“I promise,” he nods. “It won't happen, but I promise.”

Throwing your arms around him. He wraps his around your waist, holding you to him tightly. Trusting him is becoming easier. Believing him is becoming easier. Wanting him to stay by your side is becoming easier.

“Are you going home first?” You ask, pulling away a little bit to look at him.

“Nope,” he answers, and you give him a look. “I might have started to pack a just in case bag.”

“Oh, really?” You ask and he nods. “Good.”

“Yeah?” He questions, almost like he was surprised.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

This was big. It actually wasn't big at all but felt huge. It felt like he was becoming a permanent fixture in your little metaphorical shoe box . You just hope that he wants to stay because you want him to.

You want him to stay.

Holy shit!

You want him to stay.

《Chapter 13》

Tagged Readers:

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@haileyborig, @bettytta @mar-lo-pap, @lattejimin,@butterymin @thelilbutifulthings, @cannotalwaysbenight @notsooperfect @muchwita, @maryhopemei, @rinkud, @misfits1a,@ktownshizzle

[dyk3ang3l]

participating in this pride month prompt i had lots of fun writing this idea out thank youu!!

working together at an ice cream shop, broken fan, hates summer x loves summer

You and Ellie work at a dingy ice cream shop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and when the only fan breaks down in the store; Ellie gets a bit whiny because she hates the summer time. Let’s just say you guys find a way to cool down…

wc: like 950 idk

ellie x fem reader

cw: MDNI! reader is pink text and ellie is blue text. mainly fluff/crack and ellie being dramatic. sub!ellie, teasing, implied cooter eating (all e!receiving) reader doesn’t have any descriptive features!!

Love is Everywhere by Magdalena Bay was playing while i was writing this and i’d say it fits the vibes a LOT so definitely listen to it while reading!!

Ellie had a gigantic fan blowing directly on her face and was practically chugging down her 2nd blue slushy of the day, she looked like she was on the verge of collapsing. You guys had only started 2 hours ago.

You on the other hand were watching in amusement, this girl was so dramatic! Sure it was a little hot, but Ellie was acting like it was 200 degrees. You loved her though.

“Thanks for stopping by, have a good day!”

You waved goodbye to the only customer you’ve gotten today, when he leaves you slump forward on the counter and rest your chin on the palm your hand. You were bored out of your mind. As if to enhance your boredom, you see a piece of tumbleweed comically rolling on the road outside.

You don’t know how you were going to last 6 more hours of your shift, especially with Ellie whining like this. It wasn’t even that hot!

“Babeeee help meeeee please. I think I’m dying, I can’t take this. I’m serious, check my heartbeat I think it’s slowing down.”

“Oh my god babe you’re right, I think you’re dying. Gone forever, how will I keep going!!”

You put your hand over her chest and fake a shocked gasp, Ellie just rolls her eyes and flips you off yet she can’t help but crack a smile at you.

Ellie was about to keep rambling on and complaining about hot it was, but she’s abruptly cut off by the fan making a loud rattling noise and then slows down until it completely stops.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!!” Ellie desperately bangs at the fan and even tries unplugging it, then plugging it back in, but it’s useless.

Nothing is working. Hopeless. Done for. She was going to die at her minimum wage job.

“Can we like… Doordash a fan here or something?? PLEASE I can’t last another 6 hours in this heat.”

A thought popped up into your mind and you look at her with a soft smirk. You walk away from the register and go to the door to flip the sign from open to closed.

“How about we spend some time in the freezer?”

-

“I feel like we’re in that one episode of Austin and Ally when they are stuck in the ice cream freezer. Oh no, please keep checking the freezer door, I don’t want to get stuck in here.”

Ellie says as she begins eating strawberry ice cream out of one of the tubs in the freezer, she finally felt herself returning back to normal as the cool air from the freezer was blowing on her sweat-slick body and the ice cream was cooling down her insides.

You on the other hand were watching her with low eyes not listening to a SINGLE word your girlfriend was saying, the way the sweat was dripping down her body and how her biceps flexed with every subtle movement. Why was Ellie always so sexy without even trying? You needed this loser. Now.

You slowly walk over to her until your behind her, your clothed sex pressed up against her ass and your chest pressed against her back. You hear Ellie’s breath hitch as you cup her face and turn her head to the side, your thumb glides across her bottom lip to wipe the strawberry ice cream that’s there and you bring your thumb into your mouth to suck it off.

You hear Ellie make a soft needy sound that you almost missed and her cheeks flush a pretty pink, you love making her flustered like this. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mmm, I still think you taste better.”

You wrap your arms around her waist from behind her, leaning forward you begin trailing kisses up the side of her neck and she eagerly tilts her head to the side with a soft whimper to give you better access. Ellie fully drops the spoon onto the ground with a swift movement of her hands going to cover yours on her stomach, she was fucking soaked already.

Ellie couldn’t even tell she was in the freezer anymore, the way you were touching and kissing her had her body burning up like the heat that was pounding onto her earlier.

“Babe… Fuck. You’re really doing this right now?” Ellie said with an already higher pitch and needy tone, she was making absolutely no moves to stop you though. She let out a sharp gasp when you sucked that one sensitive part of her neck into your mouth and nipped gently, Ellie’s body went wobbly and her hands surged forward to hold onto the rack in front of her so her legs wouldn’t give out.

“Mhm, I am. You don’t want me to stop though, do you?” You asked redundantly because you knew 100% she was going to shake her head no, and you smirked against her neck when she eagerly did exactly what you thought. Ellie rolled her eyes when she felt you smirk against her neck and she was about to make some bratty comment but she was quickly silenced with a soft yelp when you nipped at her neck harder and said “Use your words.”

“Fuck! No, I don’t want you to stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Your one hand slides up her body, gripping her small breast in the palm of your hand and gently squeezing; at the same your other hand wanders south and you cup her pussy over her jeans and you can feel the heat radiating off of her. Her entire body jerks at these simultaneous actions and lets out a shocked gasp that turned into a drawn-out moan that went straight to your clit.

If you looked there was probably steam radiating off of her clothed sex. (There was, and Ellie had to hold back a laugh and fucking hoped you wouldn’t notice.)

“Aa-mmph, fuck baby. You feel so fucking ah-good, please touch me more.”

You nip at her earlobe before you grip her hips to flip her around, your hands cup her cheeks and you surge forward to press your lips against hers in a hungry passionate kiss that Ellie lets a strangled moan into as she kisses you back eagerly. You can taste the slushies and strawberry ice cream on her when you glide your tongue against hers and then suck her tongue into your mouth; you groan when you can taste the unique and addicting taste of Ellie underneath all of it.

You back her up against the wall and Ellie lets out a sharp gasp at the feeling of the cold wall but she quickly forgets anything and everything except you when you begin unbuckling her belt and unbuttoning her jeans.

“I’m not really in the mood for ice cream, I’d rather taste you instead.”

-

30 minutes later you guys were back at the register and Ellie’s face was flushed completely red that had nothing to deal with the heat, her legs were shaking and she had to catch herself from her legs almost giving out as she sat down on one of the chairs. You just watched with a cocky smile as you licked your lips, you could still taste her.

“So what now? The fan is still broken, and I’m still hot! Even more now.”

You shrug your shoulders and pull out your phone to text your manager what you guys should do and ask if there was another fan somewhere. You scoff when he texts back and you roll your eyes as you read out what he said.

“What the hell bruh, he said ‘That sucks, damn. Good luck though.’”

“You’re kidding, ughhhh. Well you better start writing my eulogy because I’m going to die in here.”

You just roll your eyes and chuckle softly, you rest your head on her shoulder and pat her thigh softly; turning your head to press a soft kiss to her pretty freckled cheek.

“We can take as many freezer breaks as you need, pretty girl.”

—

okay first drabble i’ve posted in awhile (emergency intercom head cannons real ones remember) please be kind to me thank you. this wasn’t supposed to be serious and i did not try THAT hard i just had an idea that i wanted to write out asap before someone else possibly did the same thing LOL!! :3

[cass-1]

First post I’ve love to dedicate it to THE Simon ghost Riley, I’m obsessed.

Just to give a bit of context this is Simon x reader.

Poor baby reader seeks attention from having such a frustrating day, going to Simon Riley’s room in the barracks for company, like she always does.

Simon was never the one to be distracted from his duty, working in the Task Force, he never even considered anything close to a relationship nor a little one nightstand. That was until you joined the team. You were one hell of a soldier, he’d tell you. Always stubborn, blunt and god were you attractive, but he couldn’t admit that. But anyhoo, he always found his way to put you in your place whenever situations were getting too out of hand.

You enjoyed talking back to him, trying to add fuel to the fire, it wouldn’t hurt to say he enjoyed shutting you up. Nothing better than a good colleagues with benefits.

Today wasn’t any different when you barged into his quarters, that same ol’ frustrated look on your pretty face. He was waiting, staring at you with a unfazed look as he sat on his chair to his desk, he knew already. With a low chuckle he said, “c’mere lovie.” A scoff erupted from you as he called you over. Crossing your arms, you replied, “No.” Your refusal was quick, as if you anticipated his order. Ghost only shook his head, unbuttoning his shirt and giving you a smirk. He leaned back on his chair, his gaze narrowing. “I said, come here,” he repeated, the firm order leaving no room for negotiation. His voice held a hint of possession.

One thing led to another and now you were on his bed, arching your back as you took him on all fours, his once gloved hands now holding your arms together behind you back, slamming into you. It was aggressive, Simon wasn’t the one to be all soft and comforting, after all you came for a reason.

“Mmh.. u’re so good baby, takin’ me whole.”

“God, u’re such a good girl.”

“Look who’s a mess beneath me.”

“U’re melting at my touch.”

“Next u’re g’na rake mah babies.”

He continued moaning out rambled words, being so pussy-drunk until it was finished. Both of you reaching your high and taking each other in.

Both Simon and the reader stayed on their backs, faced to the ceiling as they caught their breath. Simon turned to look at you, a smirk painting his face.

“I don’t regret what I said.”

[justwinginglife]

Not a full fic, just something I cooked up while thinking about Hoshina, as I tend to do. Was just wondering what he'd do if he was called into battle while in the middle of sex. So, you know, this will be slightly NSFW (although not as NSFW as some of you might like lmao). These are just my thoughts.

You were on the verge of a supernovic orgasm. 

And then the goddamn alarm went off. 

Hoshina hissed, banging his fist against the headboard, before sitting up and brushing his bangs away from his sweat soaked forehead. Though his gaze trailed over to the flashing red in the corner of the room, acknowledging its existence, he stayed perched atop you, hesitancy keeping his erection sunken within your walls. His eyes found yours again. 

You knew that look. He wanted permission. “It’s fine, baby. We can stop here. Go get dressed.”

Even despite your verbal encouragement, he lingered in his position, hand coming up to carefully caress your cheek. Okay, so maybe he wanted more than permission. Maybe he wanted you to ease his guilt. On any other day, it was easier to tell his priorities apart; if you’d been showering, he would’ve dried the both of you off before slapping on your suits; if you’d been cooking, he would’ve simply turned the stove off before bounding into battle; even if you’d just started to have sex, foreplay still fresh, he would’ve pressed a tender kiss to your lips, promising to come back to this later, and pulled himself off of you, no huffs or hesitations about it. But today -he could feel it- you’d been a breath or two away from coming undone for him, and he suddenly wondered if maybe Captain Ashiro could make do without the both of you, at least until he could carry you over the finish line. His hips rolled forward again, resuming his pace.

“Baby- I said it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go.”

He bit his lip, stubbornly burying himself deeper inside you.

“My love- I promise, I’m fine. The alarm kinda killed the mood anyway; you’d have to work doubly as hard to get me back to where I was.” You cupped his face in your hands, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “Let’s go get dressed, yeah? We’ll just finish it up quickly so we can come back home and…finish.” 

He sighed, nodding his head in sullen agreement, before pulling himself off of you. He snatched his buzzing comms off the nightstand and popped them in his ear, before helping you out of bed.

“Vice Captain Hoshina, come in. Are you en route?” 

Hoshina grabbed a nearby towel and began to clean the arousal off of your legs. “About to be. Gimme a minute, Okonogi.”

You slapped him away, urging him to finish dressing himself. As sweet as he was, now was not the time to be giving you aftercare. You didn’t want to be the reason a building got demolished or a civilian got caught beneath it because you’d distracted the Vice Captain just a little too long. You knew he didn’t want that either, as he’d begun stumbling towards the door with half his suit on, trying to zip it up in the hallway. 

You yanked on your own suit, sighing, before running after him. “Love, your boot is not even on all the way.” You tugged him back by the arm, halting him long enough to pull his boot on correctly before releasing him. “Don’t want you tripping and injuring yourself before we even get there.”

He gazed at you apologetically. He was usually so much more composed than this. But still, he couldn’t help feeling a sense of guilt that he’d taken you nearly to the edge of paradise only to close the gates in your face. And for that matter, he’d almost been there himself. He shook his head, attempting to shake off the hormones so he could switch mindsets. He had to be the Vice Captain right now, not your fiancee. 

“I need a rit sep.” 

You nudged him with your elbow.

“Sit rep. I need a sit rep.” He cleared his throat as he repeated his command.

You squeezed his hand. There you go, baby. It’s okay, you’ve got this. 

It took a minute, but Hoshina was finally back to himself, doling out orders and encouraging the soldiers onwards. When you slipped into the transport beside him, his gaze met yours again, promises of a better night waiting for you on the tip of his tongue.

Before he could say anything, you smiled. You smiled, and for a moment, every ounce of tension drained from his body. I know, baby, you mouthed to him. 

You always knew.

You knew when he scooted closer to you, shoulder pressed tightly to yours, that it meant “I love you.” You knew when he tapped your knee, that it meant, “Stay safe.” And you knew that, at the end of this, he’d make it all up to you. Even if he had half his limbs and half his energy, he’d make it worthwhile. 

And he knew you’d do what you always do: you’d stay by his side and protect him until the very end. 

(And then, have mind blowing sex upon your return home.)

[ivveranaji]

HIHIHIHHIHHI CAN WE GET SOME AHEM kinich x reader who works at Ifa's clinic and is very sweet?! reader may or may not put others miles before themselves heehee

BYEBYE (I ate your last kinich fic btw)

Hello !!

Oh yes Ifa! I couldn't get him because I was close to a 5 star and wanted Kinich 💔

(I'm glad you liked it !!)

I hope I did as you wanted and that you'll eat that too!

Gn reader

1184 words

The sun was burning your skin but you couldn't do anything about it. You had to bring back the new equipment to Ifa. The health of the saurian couldn't wait so you breathed in and started to walk again.

Ignoring how hard it was for you to breathe right now, you were determined to continue.

Earlier in the day, a woman came to Ifa with a baby Qucusaur. He immediately helped the little saurian. It was hurt but with rest it will be fine now that Ifa had done his work. But he encountered a problem when the Qucusaur broke one of his tools when it got scared of it. Ifa isn't mad at all, it's understandable that the little bird gets scared. The woman said she found it alone and you were worried for the mother. Ifa immediately took your worry seriously and he had to ask you to get the new tool and some other things, this way you hadn't to do the walk for only a single thing, while he was gonna check for the mom.

The path to Xilo's workshop was fine. But after chatting with her a bit you started to see the sun sets. You were worried Ifa was waiting for you. Even if you knew he was a chill guy and wouldn't get mad because of that, you couldn't help but rush yourself.

However, as you were taking the same path, this time a group of wild saurians was in the middle of it. You didn't want to disturb them so you took another way. This path was less practicable but you wouldn't stop there. Even with some bruises you continued walking to the clinic. But apparently your luck was off today, this time it was a group of monsters that was in the middle of the way. You back down from them and started to walk another way when a scream from one of them alerted them of your presence.

You only had a short time to get the box to the ground and get your sword out. You weren't the greatest warrior but you had to fight with other warriors before. The difference was that this time you were alone. You didn't know what to do.

The monsters were merciless, you struggled to make damage to them while they had your blood out of your skin.

Ultimately, the exhaustion of earlier got the better of you and you fell to your knees. Watching the monster holding his weapon above you, you closed your eyes waiting for the hit. But you only heard different screaming between your attackers. When you opened your eyes, you saw the hero of the Scions of the Canopy in front of you. He had killed all of them in almost a second. Turning his face to you, he silently walked to you.

" - Thank you! I'm really grateful but I have to deliver this so I'll repay you later! "

You tried to stand up but your legs were tired and injured. But you wouldn't stop there. As you continued to stubbornly try to walk, you failed to hear Kinich say he didn't want you to repay him. He crouched with his back to you, waiting for you to climb up. Hesitant, you had no choice but to ask him for help again. You couldn't walk at all, so you placed yourself on his back. He made sure you were comfortable, holding you with one arm. He then lifted the box with one hand and walked to the clinic.

You felt guilty he had to carry you and the box to Ifa. But Kinich really didn't mind. He walked silently. You felt at ease with him, without noticing you fell asleep on his back. He was a little startled when he felt your head fall on his shoulder but a smile escaped his lips.

Ifa immediately tended to your injuries. You woke up not long ago, when you heard the cries of the little Qucusaur. He wasn't mad at you, if was rather mad at himself for what happened to you.

Kinich refused any kind of payment from both of you, simply saying he helped a friend.

Before he walked back to his home, you yelled at him that he was always welcome here and that you will help him without a doubt if he needs it in the future. He nodded and you saw him swing away.

Time has passed since this day and Kinich never really leaves your thoughts. You find yourself daydreaming of him sometimes.

You knew him for a while now. At first you only saw him at the Pilgrimage. Already building a crush on him. But you became closer with the appearance of the traveler. You can confidently say that you are good friends. Kinich is a busy person but when he has time, he takes you to eat.

Sometimes he comes to see you and you'll always massage his shoulder while talking about your day. At first he was against the massage but he quickly understood that it was your way to repay him for all he does. And you do really good massages !

Kinich and you are really different. He believes every thing he does has a price while you just do anything even for free. But the man actually loves this about you. He would be worried at first but Ifa is with you. Your kindness can be your fall one day. But Kinich would never wish for you to change it.

After all he falls for you because of this trait.

Today is his day off and he felt like inviting you again. He was about to quit the scions when he saw a familiar figure. Here you were, wandering. He approached you.

" - Kinich! I'm glad you're still here! I was afraid you were gone for another mission and nobody could tell me where you lived!! "

You were rambling about your experience, and he will listen till the end just to let your voice fill his brain. Untill someone broke it.

" - Enough mortal! The Almighty Dragonlord Kuhu'l Ajaw has better things to do tha- "

Kinich violently threw the dragon away. You mumbled a sorry.

" - Don't listen to him, continue, I'm listening. "

You smiled at him and let your backpack slide from your shoulder.

" - Here! I made a gift for you! "

He took the bag and looked inside. You had sewed a pouch to put around his waist. He could recognize the tissue you always use to sew your clothing. His ears turned red but he brushed it off.

" - Thank you, I will take great care of it. "

" Don't worry! If something happens to it I'll be more than happy to redo one for you! "

Sweet. He thought. He smiled and thanked you again. He then took your hand delicately.

" - I shall invite you to eat then. "

It was a question of days before one of you confessed.

[maegoorskeep]

So Able

summary: What Abby wants, she gets and what she wants today is to get you to the gym with her. You've said no before but you also know that Abs is not taking that shit for an answer.

pairing: Abby Anderson x teacher!reader

word count: 1.9k

content warning: teasing, language, power dynamics, playful but intentional emotional manipulation, established relationship, lightly suggested sex.

A/N: english is obviously not my first language so... yeah.......

Abby has always a way to get what she wants with the people she loves. No matter what it is, she has this way of sounding so good and convincing that most of her friends just abandoned saying “no”. There’s only Mel, but Abby knows how to by-pass her easily. And there’s the pout, the soft pout of her lips that has nothing to do on that tall, stern soldier’s face but that she does anyway.

So, when she comes to you on that very morning of Spring, you already know this will be a battle. Abby doesn’t come to you right away, she’s more cunning than that. She circles around, looks at the kids paintings. One is of her, of course, and it makes her laugh in that goddamn way you can’t quite resist. But you must. Your hand presses your temple while you mark some little work you gave your pupils today, but you can't help to look up from time to time just to see what the hell she's doing. Your eyes shift from the arch of Abby's back as she leans to study the pencil sketch to her shoulder on which her braid falls softly and just as quickly, you get back to work. Or you try at least, which is hard when there's this broad shouldered, muscled armed girl laughing softly to herself right there.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you mutter, pink pen scribbling a little smiley face on the spelling worksheet, hoping the little doodle will, somehow, uplift your own goddamn mood. "You here for a reason, Abby? If not, get out of my classroom, please."

"What? Is it illegal to appreciate my fan art, now?" she asks with a smug smirk on her lips. "Some of us here are local celebrities, you know."

You don't look up from the words written on paper though, trying to control your face as best as possible. Abby is good when she needs something. She perfectly knows that going for it upfront won't be successful. No. It's like war, you need a battle plan for this shit and Abby? She always knows how to pick hers. So, she walks to you and around your desk, her fingers trailing along its wooden edge like she owns this freaking part of the stadium.

"You're so grumpy in the mornings, I swear. You need to sweat it out with me."

There it is, the damn thing she wants. It's not formulated as a nice little request, never, she never ever say please. No. She passes it as an advice when it comes to you because Abs has learned from the time you where flirting around Manny and how he would always suggest you little things like it's nothing. But it's always something with Abby and you always fall for it.

"No," the answer is clear and definitive as you glance up at her through your lashes.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," she smirks, leaning to look in your face and it's very hard not to roll your chair back to put some distance between you and her goddamn beautiful face and those blue eyes.

"You were going to ask me to come to the gym with you, again."

"I was going to ask if you wanted a breakfast burrito with me at the mess hall instead of using your ration tickets," she pauses, waiting for the bait to settle in. She knows she has you intrigued by her words and Abby smile widden a bit. "After the gym, as a reward for your good work."

Of course. You drop the pink pen after trying to write on her face to get her to step back. She laughs again and you can't help the soft smile creeping up your lips. Abby sits on one of the little table, her elbows on her knees and her hands rest under her chin, waiting to hear what the hell will be your excuses this time. She knows it's comming, it always does.

"I have nineteen papers to grade, five kids who still thinks that glue is a food group and Miss Ornella is pretending to be dead again in her cage. I am not going to the gym, Abby." you say again like it's final, your thumb pointing at the little caged hamster sleeping there.

And of course, Abs shakes her head slowly, she always does when she's amused and her eyes creases in that perfect way that infuriates you but you don't say anything more that she could use against you. Instead, you look as she leans in again, hands braced on the desk  and Abby's arm are slightly flexed because of course, she knows. She always do.

"This sounds exactly why you need to go to the gym with me. As a stress relief, you know?"

"It's not how stress relief work," you snort imediately and it makes her smile wider.

"It is, if you let me help you doing it right," she tries again.

"No."

And as you get back to your papers, you think she'll give up because sometimes, rarely but still, she does. But not this time, of course not. She doesn't leave, Abby doesn't leave. Instead, she grabs one of those chair meant for kids, those ones that struggle with their fractions, and she turns it around to straddle it backward like this will be a long fought negociation she's going to win.

"You said no last week already, and the weekend before that. You can't say no everytime."

"Yes I can, consistency is a virtue, Abigail."

"You're governement naming me?" she laughs before leaning her chin on the back of the chair. "You are not consistent. You can't even decide on what to put on your fucking salad. You just like giving me a hard time."

"I just like peace and quiet, your gym bros are giving me anxiety, Abby."

"You like me better."

That, just there, is fucking unfair you are about to tell her. You look right in her eyes before looking back at your work, your pink pen circling a kid's misspelling of Elephant. You try not to look up before stopping again, pinching your nose for just a second or two.

"I tolerate you, Anderson. Now, get out."

"You wish you just tolerated me," she snorts with those knowing eyes. There's something soft in them. "Come on, baby."

"Abby-"

"Come to the gym with me, please."

"No."

And Abby, in all of this, she starts to see this isn't going to work. The pet name doesn't work, the politeness doesn't work, the cheeky comment doesn't work so she sight like all this is a great burden she's forced to bear. She's about to get snarky now, to make you feel like this is the worst thing you've ever done to her, which isn't.

"You know, I really fucking thought you were stronger than this," she says, moving her hand toward your work. "When the fuck did you become the most boring teacher out there, babe?"

The words are harsh, a bit mean also, but you know that this is all Abby trying and being her usual asshole to make you bite back to her and get up to beat her ass at the gym.

"You want me to say something super mean to you, don't you?" you mumble, shooting her a look and she laughs again, bright and unbothered like she never called you the most boring teacher in all fucking SoundView.

"Maybe. Or maybe I want to see that sweet look in your face when you finally give all in. You always cave in the best, y'know."

You roll your eyes, but she's not wrong and you know it. Abby has a way of breaking people down to the core, not with brute force even though she's got plenty of that, but with sheer persistence and you have to give it to her : it's a fucking skill. The teasing, the grinning, the charming, the little pinches of meaness, it's all weaponized and wielded like a a damn scalpel she knows how to use better than anyone. Most people fold, too scared to be cut. You've seen it on friends and foes alike. Hell, you've done it yourself when the night is at its darkest and Abby at her neediest. When she gets into your room like a damn thief to make you panting against her shoulder.

"I've got work. Fuck off, please."

She stands. For a second, you think maybe it was a bit too much to talk to her like this. Abby always does it to you, but she doesn't like to recieve in return. But of course, as she starts to get to the door, she changes her mind. You start to pray all the gods to help you because this can't be good. It's not. Abby grabs your chair, rolling you backward a little bit before crowding your space again. She stands there, between you and your desk like she had enough of this little game but Abs is never tired of it.

She can go for hours, days if she must. Her strong arms are crossed over her chest and at first, her face is unreadibly neutral until the pout. She doest that stupid little pout that unravels you every time and your breath catches. It bearly fits her, that stone-carved soldier woman with shoulders that could carry a truck and that Isaac wield like his fucking golden ticket to make the world a better place. She looks like a fucking angel of destruction ready to make you ploy.

"Please, Abs, stop this?" you start to give in, your legs twitching between her knees.

"I want to train with you, you never give me attention, I'm going to die," she comments, her hands resting on the back of your chair to lock you right there.

"That's not fucking fair. You're the one-" you start but she cuts you immediately.

"Life's not fair, grab your shit, we're going."

"No," but you're unsure now.

She frowns in that unyielding way, stern as fuck. The pout is all gone now, it's only Abigail Anderson now and she got enough. You can tell.

"Stop trying to be firm, get your ass up. I said, we're going."

"Hey, I am firm."

"As firm as your non-existing biceps. Now shut up and get up on your feet."

For all your trying, the words as you both shuting up and standing for her, so close that you can smell her and that stupid cotton shower gel she uses. You whimper a little bit like she hurt you with her words but Abby doesn't give in at all. Told you, she's good at giving, not at receiving that treatment she gives people around her. So, with no kiss and no encouraging words, you open the locker in the corner of the classroom on which you keep your favorite drawings of the kids and you get your gym bag from it.

"I hate you," you tell her.

"No you don't."

And just like that, all of Abby sterness is gone and she has her arm around your shoulders. There's this cocky look on her face again because she always win against you and somehow, you're not that mad about it when she presses a kiss on your head. Goddamn her.

[tkomptgoedluv]

just in case.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, established relationship, reader is just like me <3 (she works in hospitality), reader is also very very unwell but can’t really admit it, joost is a compulsive fixer, they’re both arguably too codependent but it’s okay because it’s them, a lil bit of angst, toooo much hurt, so much comfort that it’s once again a little cringe, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,847.

warnings: frequent + detailed descriptions of depressive episodes, sexual harassment, SA, semi-vauge mention of suicide ideation, rpf.

notes: hello lovelies!! i don’t have a whole lot to say here, just that this is definitely not my best work but writing this fic has helped me cope with something that happened in my real life so it honestly means quite a bit to me. like pretty much always, this fic comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING so please keep yourselves safe, and my messages are always open for anyone that needs to talk <3 — it’s also not been proof-read quite just yet; i’ll get around to that eventually. and as always, thank you @joosthead for being the best beta-reader EVER i love you so much MWAH! xx

enjoy! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

your eyes felt sore, aching from how hard you were rubbing at them, still somewhat considering clawing them out of your head just to try and stop the burning. 

you couldn’t stop crying.

your shift at work today, it had been your breaking point. despite pleading almost on your hands and knees for her not to, your manager had still put you on the bar shift to face the evening rush alone. claiming that you’d be okay because you were supposedly ‘one of her best’, she’d disappeared inside her office just mere moments after you’d shown up, somehow already swamped in emails and admin work. and that was all bullshit, of course — everyone else had just called out for the night, and she was never one to get her hands too dirty.

she left you scrambling, desperately trying to pick up the pieces because at least from what it looked like, whoever had closed the night before hadn’t even tried to do their job. the first customers of the day were trapseing their way in but everything was still so sticky, the feeling of it against your skin making you feel queasy, but there wasn’t any time to clean because everybody just had to want something from you, didn’t they? and what they wanted they couldn’t have right away, because apparently no one had bothered to stock up or refill anything, either.

from just those first few minutes of your shift, your stomach had already began to sink.

you should have listened to joost, should have listened to your boyfriend when he near-begged you to call out as well because you were already struggling enough as it was. you’d only said no because you had no way of explaining why it is you’ve been feeling like this. why you haven’t been sleeping despite all of the meditation you take and why even the smallest, simplest things have you paralysed in your bed, unable to breathe quite right.

you’d just wanted to power through. it wasn’t fair on anyone else to pick up your slack because you couldn’t seem to get your shit together. and it certainly wasn’t fair on joost, when he’s already had to dedicate so much of his time over the past couple months to taking care of you. you’re not a kid; you shouldn’t need someone to hold your hand whilst you brush your teeth, someone to sit on the bathroom floor just to keep you company whilst you take a bath. 

he already does enough not just for you but for everyone else in his life. always running around here, there, and everywhere, always five steps ahead just to make sure no one gets left behind whilst he becomes the international star he’s always meant to be. to call in sick again was to hold him back another day, to have him reschedule another session with teun because he just wouldn’t feel right leaving you alone like this.

you still should have listened, though. you still should have called out when he asked you to, because it never got any better, did it?

the customers, they never got any nicer. every single person that walked through the bar’s doors, they pushed you closer and closer to an edge that you’ve been crawling away from for months, because they’d treated you like you weren’t even human. with words laced with venom, they all but spat at you whilst simultaneously asking for your help, rejoicing in the fact that you’re never allowed to say no, no matter how cruel they are.

and the band you’d hosted for the evening, some shitty little wannabe rock/rap group that somehow had an all-male fan base, they were awful. how they managed to even book the gig when they couldn’t even sing, rap, or keep their instruments in tune, was beyond you. it had taken so much not to hide yourself away in the back when it all got too loud, the pure noise of almost a hundred people all shouting at once making your skin clammy and your stomach churn. 

it would have been too much for anyone to cope with alone, really. and your manager, nieke, she shouldn’t have stayed locked up in her office doing god knows what for as long as she had. what happened to you wasn’t her fault by any means, but you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she would have been able to stop it had she actually been there with you.

that maybe she would have been able to get that guy to stop when he had leaned over the bar just one too many times, his eyes pointed directly at your chest. that she would’ve had the guts to kick him out when he’d said another one too many things to make your skin feel itchy, like his promise to wait for you outside because ‘you just look so sexy when you’re all hot and bothered’.

then again, you weren’t exactly helpless, were you? you could have stood your ground, could have kicked him out yourself instead of shrinking underneath his gaze. you could have gone and asked for her help instead of just dealing with it, like you always do, and you could have at least told her about it after the place had cleared out for the night.

and above all else, you should have remembered to leave through the back exit like you normally do on a night like this. you shouldn’t have been so focused on just getting out of there and getting home that you forgot about that guy’s promise to you.

if you had done, then you wouldn’t be stood here shaking in the doorway of your home, those tears of yours burning your eyes as you completely and utterly fell to pieces.

all joost did was ask if you were okay. 

he’d heard you come in, almost slamming the front door behind you, from where he’d been sitting in the living room drawing up more sketches on his ipad. you hadn’t called out to him like you usually do when you know he’s home, singing a cheesy little ‘honey! i’m home!’ just loud enough for him to hear, but not too loud that it disturbs the neighbours. you’d been completely silent instead, the only noise you made being the kicking off of your shoes as you chucked your keys onto the hall table, so he asked if everything was alright. 

and that had been the thing to make you crack.

because that customer of yours, that asshole, he’d been there waiting for you as you left. you hadn’t seen him at first, your head tilted down as you struggled to untie the earphones that you’d ‘borrowed’ from joost before he’d left for teun’s. 

he cornered you the very first chance that he got; waiting until you were just far enough away from your workplace that turning back was out of the question, before he’d backed you up against that wall. with a sick, lopsided grin on his face, he’d paid you the same kind of ‘compliments’ that he had done during the show, the same ones that you’d pretended not to hear the whole evening. only when his back had been turned had you let your facade start to slip, your lip quivering as his words slowly sunk in.

‘do you have any idea how hard it was for me to not jump over the bar and bend you over?’

‘fuck, i love your eyes; i can’t wait to make you cry. i bet you’re a crier, aren’t you? or are you a screamer?’

‘you’re so sexy, schat. can i call you that? you can call me daddy, if you’d like. you seem like the type.’

you wish that you would have done more; that you would have screamed or slapped him, maybe. though you had only just stood there, frozen, quietly asking him to move because you were ‘in a rush’ and ‘had to get home soon.’ you only started to make a scene once he grabbed you, palming your tit over your work uniform as he pinned you against the brick and kissed you. 

you’d made it home with flakes of his skin still stuck underneath your fingernails from where you’d scratched at him, pushing him off. he only did so once you started to really dig your nails in, clawing at the skin of his neck like an animal as you wailed, shouting at him to leave you alone. at least he had done, but not without muttering a ‘crazy bitch’ under his breath first, before speeding off in the opposite direction with his head down low.

for the rest of your walk home, you hadn’t let yourself think about any of it. you’d held all your pieces together just like you were supposed to, and only then let them start to fall once you’d stepped through your front door and locked eyes with a pair of joost’s shoes.

they were his favourite pair, actually; the all-black DC trainers you’d gotten him for christmas one year, that he’d left all in a mess by the doormat after getting home from the studio. somehow, it had completely slipped your mind that he was gonna be home by the time that you finished work tonight, and knowing that he was here and that you really were safe now, it had brought tears to your eyes that you hadn’t been strong enough to hold back. and then he’d called out to you, asking if you were okay with such worry already in his voice, and you’d realised that now you were actually going to have to tell him that no, you really weren’t okay at all. 

joost hadn’t said anything when he heard you burst into tears as explosively as you had. he’d simply rushed over, appearing as a blurry, blond figure as he came running from around the corner. 

“hey hey hey, what happened?”

a pair of strong arms wrapped around you; one around your shoulders and another around your waist, keeping you upright as your knees began to buckle. with your face squished against his shirt, you were breathing in nothing but the smell of his aftershave as you clung onto him for dear life.

you just couldn’t answer him.

at least not yet, anyway.

so you just cried; small, dark spots of mascara staining the white of his t-shirt. even if it wasn’t as old as it was, the graphic on the front having already faded several years ago, joost wouldn’t have cared. it could always be washed with the stain-remover that you keep shoved in the back of one of the kitchen cupboards. to him, they’d never be as detrimental as the long streaks of black that were painting your face now. to him, those were the real, true heartbreak. 

you were crying like someone had just died and he didn’t…he just didn’t know what to do with that. his fingers were all in your hair, scratching just underneath your ear as he kept whispering ‘shh it’s okay; just breathe’ over and over again, but you weren’t calming down. you were still hanging off of him, barely holding yourself up anymore as you sobbed screaming into his chest.

joost knew things were getting bad for you already; he’d seen it coming long before even you had. the way you slowly began to feel so indifferent towards everything you once loved. how you would carefully shrink into nothing only when you thought that he wasn’t watching. how you couldn’t bring yourself to eat or even wash yourself unless he was there, almost cheering you on. and that was more than okay, obviously, because he’d cheer you on no matter what it was that you were trying to do. alway being your number one fan, your very own personal cheerleader, it came with the title of being your boyfriend and he loved it. 

but it just wasn’t like you, was it? you weren’t one to go down without a fight, regardless of the situation. you’d proved that early on in the relationship when you broke your elbow ice-skating, and despite how you had been such a mess crying your eyes out, you had seriously tried to brush it off at first because you ‘didn’t want to spoil the day for everyone else’. you also always refuse to fall asleep on the nights that joost can’t seem to switch his mind off, always insisting on staying up with him instead because it means that you get to help him finish whatever project he’s too stuck on to let go.

even when you’re ill and it’s bad enough that a couple paracetamol can’t magically fix it overnight, joost still has to swaddle you in blankets and bribe you to stay in bed. he has to force feed you your favourite herbal teas and reassure you every five minutes that he likes doing this for you, because if he doesn’t then you won’t let yourself stop. you’ll keep pushing to keep going and keep pretending as though you’re fine until you just physically can’t anymore. 

so when you slowly stopped trying until you couldn’t even brush your own hair without his interference, couldn’t shower without him or remember to drink enough water without his constant reminders, it scared the shit out of him. you weren’t you, anymore.

but whatever this was, though — it wasn’t that. this was something far more violent, something that joost couldn’t even let himself consider to be a possibility. still, thinking about something not happening was still thinking about it, and it was making him sweat all the same.

he finally scooped you up by the backs of your knees when your legs started to shake again. he carried you over to the sofa where his ipad lay discarded, still open and running the software he uses to draw up those little animations of his for music videos. you’d heard the thud of it being pushed to the side and then falling off the sofa cushion as you were put down in its place, though you were crawling over to joost the very moment that he’d sat down next to you. 

you were laying your head across his thighs but still turning yourself away so that he couldn’t really see your face. it was less so about not letting him see you and more so about how you’re just unable to bear seeing him seeing you right now. as much as you’ve grown used to needing his help, you still can’t stand the burden that you become to him when you cry. you see it on his face every time; such a severe look of heartsick that it makes you despise yourself for ever daring to fall apart around him. 

it was like that, that the both of you stayed for a while. joost’s fingers found their way back into your hair, tucking random strands behind your ear as he used his other hand to wipe his own tears from his eyes. he could still feel you shaking, almost convulsing on his lap, even though your cries had long since become silent.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was unbelievably gentle as he spoke; cracking a little as he tiptoed closer and closer to the conversation. if joost was to push it too much, you’d surely shut down on him.

“i don’t know if i can.”

those six, small words were more than enough to choke you, making you cough and splutter and cry just that little bit harder. as carefully as he could joost helped you sit up, one of his hands rubbing up and down the soft skin of your back as the other cupped your face, his thumb catching your tears and swiping them away. 

“of course you can, honey. it’s just me, remember?”

it was a good point, considering that you’ve never not told him something, ever. still, it made you blubber like a baby, sobbing with your head in your hands as he tried so gently to coax it out of you. and it didn’t take too much, in the end, did it? because after just a few more backrubs and another whispered ‘it’s only me; it’s okay’, it gradually all came spilling out. 

your first few words, your first beyond pitiful attempt at trying to speak, it was near-incomprehensible. you were hiccuping after every syllable; whining after each time that you gagged. except then, only once joost had taken one of your hands in his and with his thumb caressed the skin of your wrist, were you finally able to think. 

you thought about the fear that you felt when that guy first made his threat, how your chest had tightened when he’d smirked at you and winked, leaning over the bar as he did so. you thought about how it had knocked the wind out of you when he got you up against that wall, its rough brick digging into your spine and leaving behind small grazes that still stung. 

god, it had all felt so disgusting, hadn’t it? his hand on your breast, squeezing you through the fabric of your shirt as he’d suddenly leaned in and made you hit your head against the wall. your face had screwed up at the feeling of his mouth on the corner of your lips, his hot, stale breath fanning against your face. you had almost gagged as it happened and you were gagging again now, trying to rub away the spit from your face that was no longer there, before pulling your work polo over your head just to try and get the last little bit of him off of you. 

and then you’d finally made it home and seen those shoes of joost’s being the real tripping hazard that they were, and that’s when it had really begun to feel like the end of the world. because you knew then that you’d have to do this — that you would have to tell him about what had happened and risk breaking his heart, risk losing him.

sure, seeing his shoes there and knowing that he was home and that you were safe, that you could finally, actually breathe now, it had made you feel safe at first. it has been the thing to first bring those tears to your eyes and a faint wobble to your lip. but then it brought on the panic of actually telling him, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid it, and the not knowing of what his reaction would be.

it wasn’t like you had kissed someone else, but someone else had still kissed you. and even though you already knew deep down that it wasn’t your fault, that you hadn’t asked for it or ever wanted it to happen, it still made you feel just as dirty. as though his hands were still on you and his saliva was still running down your chin, regardless of the fact that you had been fighting to get him off of you the whole time.

and no matter how much you tried to remember that joost would know that too, that it wasn’t your fault because of course it wasn’t, there was still that voice in the back of your mind that told you that this would be the thing to break him. after everything that you’ve put him through lately; all the late nights crying and the early mornings where he had to all but drag you out of bed himself because if he didn’t, then you would’ve just stayed rotting there all day. all the times that he had to coddle you like a child just so you’d actually take care of yourself, and now this? now that another man had touched you in ways that only he ever should, were you even worth it anymore?

except poor joost was just trying to understand what it was that you were actually saying, wasn’t he? because even though the talking had gotten so much easier that you were just rambling now, if anything, it still wasn’t entirely coherent, was it? he’d managed to make out the words ‘work’ and ‘creep’, then ‘followed me’ and ‘kissed’ before you’d pulled your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and a pair of work-jeans as you’d wrapped your arms around yourself. 

 it was more than enough for him to fill in all of the blanks on his own. 

and it left him speechless; quietly choking on the salt of his own tears, with a heart so heavy that he could feel it sinking further and further down into his stomach. 

his sniffed, wiping the snot from his nose on the back of his arm before finally pulling you back into him. your head hit his chest, your arms falling loose around his middle as his own wrapped tightly around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of the crown. 

“i’m so sorry.”

he didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

it wasn’t joost’s fault — nor was it yours, or nieke’s, or anyone else’s. what happened to you, it was just something that happened. something that shouldn’t have but still did, and nothing will come of it besides a few nightmares and a fear of walking home alone that’ll last a couple of months. 

on top of everything else that he does, joost will somehow have to make the time to come meet you after your evening shifts, just so he can walk you back hand in hand. he’ll have to deal with the fact that you probably won’t be getting a good night's sleep for a while now, not that you were anyway, and he’ll have to spend every night consoling you as you cry. he’ll have to spend his days groggy, suffering from his own lack of sleep, with you clung onto him until the very thought of any physical touch starts to repulse you. in a way, joost will face a greater punishment for this than that asshole ever will, and that will be your fault, amongst almost everything else.

the grip that you have on his t-shirt only tightens as you bury your face deeper into his chest, wailing, because it's all just so unfair, isn’t it? it’s not fair that joost is going to rearrange his whole entire life for you now, all because of this, no matter how many times that you’ll tell him not to. it’s not fair that you’ve been robbed of feeling safe at your own fucking job because some stranger thought that you were just too pretty to leave alone. it’s not fair that you asked him, begged him, to stop too many times for you to count and he hadn’t, not until you’d started to make such a scene that you became too much of an inconvenience for him.

“talk to me, honey. what are you thinking right now?”

you shook your head, further smudging your wet mascara along the fabric of his shirt. you missed the way that joost’s frown deepened when you did so, but only because you weren’t talking to him; you were trying to shut him out again. all the while you had been spilling these tears of yours over him, so unbelievably afraid of how all of this would all surely be too much for him, joost was only thinking about you.

he pulled back as gently as he could, letting his hands run down your arms until they were clutching onto yours, giving your palms a soft squeeze.

“put it on me. anything — everything that you’re thinking about. you know you can. please.”

“it’s just not fair, joostie. it’s not fair that i’m trying and it’s not working and it all keeps going wrong; it’s not fair. it shouldn’t be this hard, i shouldn’t have to need you all the time, i should be able to take care of myself, i should be able to stand up for myself when someone first starts bothering me. i shouldn’t be this tired.”

just as your tears had begun to dry, your eyes glossing over as they started to grow heavy, tears of his own started to run down joost’s face. he didn’t move to wipe them, he only tried blinking them away as they fell, as he just sat there quietly and listened. with his heart plummeting down to his feet he gulped, almost choking on the sour taste that your words had left in his mouth.

“sometimes i think that maybe…maybe it would just be easier if i…and after tonight i just, i just can’t…fuck, what if i just -”

“- no. no i know what you’re gonna say and no. i can’t do any of this without you.”

“joost…”

you fell silent when he dropped your hands to cup your cheeks again, tilting your head up slightly so you had nowhere else to look but him. you could feel him shaking, feel the tremble in his hold as he held you like that for a moment just to gaze at you with such soft, sad eyes.

he’d known that this was coming, that you’d come this close to the edge that he’s been so desperately trying to help you crawl away from. he’d felt it from that very first day where you couldn’t get out of bed and he let you stay there, only because it had been the kindest thing to do. 

“i know you think it’s bad to need help and to need someone just to want to wake up in the morning, but that’s how i feel about you too, okay? that’s how much i need you.”  he paused to press a kiss to your forehead before shifting back, finally wiping away the water from his eyes. “does that make you think any less of me?”

“no, no of course not, i -”

“- then why does it make you think so much less of you?”

he’d gotten you there, hadn’t he? had you opening and closing your mouth because every time that you went to speak, you realised that there was nothing left for you to really say other than —

“i’m sorry.” 

you spluttered out the last syllable, the guilt of having gotten it all so wrong becoming wedged inside your throat. “i’m so sorry.”

before you could even really fall he was cradling you again, tucking you up underneath his chin as his arms wrapped all the way around you to pull you closer. the sound of your sobbed-out apologies became muffled when you brought your hands up to your face to cry into them, unable to bear seeing another splotch of dark makeup on his t-shirt. but he still heard it every time that you promised him that you didn’t mean it, didn’t he?

he heard it every time that your voice cracked when you swore that you were just sleep deprived and shaken up by what had happened; that you never should have almost said what you did. and joost knew that was a lie — knew that had you come home to an empty house, it could have been the end of his world just as much as it could have been yours. still, he told you that it was okay; kissing the top of your head every time that you choked on another one of your words. 

though despite it, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop apologising just yet. it all felt so stupid to you now, how you let this thing that happened to you tonight spiral into something surely so much worse than what it needed to be. it made you fall quiet again, suddenly so determined to put on a brave face because of how much you hated how hard joost was still shaking.

“i never should have said that; i’m sorry.”

“stop that, you don’t need to do that.”  you felt him kiss the crown of your head again, his lips lingering there for a second. “just let me take care of you when you need it, yeah? it’s kinda my job, schatje. it’s what i live for.”

all you did was nod, the corners of your mouth twisting up into its first sappy smile in what felt like forever. there was still a part of you deep down that wanted to ask if he was angry at you for scaring him as terribly as you had, for making him cry and worry and coddle you even more than he usually does. but instead you just let that fear sit in the very far corners of your mind until joost broke the silence, his voice still so gentle as he carefully tucked a fallen strand of hair back behind your ear. 

“what do you need right now, honey? what can i do? want me to go break that guy’s kneecaps?”

you managed something of a laugh before you sniffled, coughing a little as you moved round to face him. 

“can you help me quit my job?”

[hikariyaps]

synopsis ☆ satoru gojo, most popular boy on campus, has had loads of flings i mean, it's not his fault girls are all over him right? he has everything he wants, everything he needs. so when he meets you, shoko's best friend plain and unassuming he brushes it off, however one random thursday something happens. something that changes the way he thinks of you entirely. and then he just has to have you, but you won't let up that easily.

☆series masterlist

Chapter Six

new notification: whitehairblueyes started following you.

new notification: whitehairblueyes sent you a follow request.

accept or deny?

that had to be gojo. you check the account. that is gojo. oh my god what was that gym pic, his abs oh my- nope. you were not going down that route.

your finger hovers over the accept button on your private account. should you? he pulled away didn't he? suguru and shoko still met you for breakfasts. didn't he have dates?

why were you getting so worked up about this?

you click on the accept button. you were just friends after all. why did you care if he had dates or not?

new notification: whitehairblueyes started following you.

☆

gojo is at breakfast the next day. shoko, suguru and you had fallen into habit of meeting each other at the café on campus before heading out for classes. sometimes for breakfast, sometimes for a quick coffee.‘

guess who decided to join.’ shoko teases.

‘what no dates today?’ you huff.

‘what do you care?’ he snarks.

you roll your eyes at him. he sticks his tongue out.

you take your usual and you notice gojo's trying something new.

‘taste changed over ten days?’ you question him.

‘huh?’

‘your coffee order, you changed it.’

‘you noticed’

you just scoff and trudge back to your seat. but you realise, you did notice. you have noticed.

meanwhile satoru goes to join shoko who is waiting for the coffee.‘how do i get to know her?’ he whispers to her.

‘what do you mean?’

‘she doesn't speak much.’

‘so ask her questions, push a little bit, how you would do with any other hot chick.’ she says, ‘but you play around with her and i will screw your life’ she warns him, she was scary like this.

satoru just gulps and nods. he gets your coffee for you. and you smile at him politely. mumble out a quick thanks and go back to softly conversing with suguru. it irks satoru. ‘ya know, you can talk to me too, right?’

that turns your head. ‘i didn't realise, you were interested in listening to me’ you say, blankly.

‘what?’

‘you don't really talk to me.’

‘i'm talking to you now.’

‘well, i don't want to talk now.’

'are all models this stubborn?' he asks, clearly meaning to catch you off guard and to let you know that he knows. he wants to see your face when you realize he knows your little secret (even though you got the notification, he probably forgot about that).

but you put on the most saccharine smile and reply with 'no, just me.'

that shuts him up and you continue your conversation with geto about the movie you watched yesterday.

satoru sighs. other chicks are not this hard to get to know. all he has to do is flash them a smile and say a few charming words and they're all over him. but you? you were different. but he wasn't going to give up. not again.

unfortunately for gojo, but fortunately for you, it was time to get to your respective classes and you said your goodbyes and head out. satoru watches you leave, the business kids didn't have classes until twelve today. wait- what were you studying?

‘shoko?’

‘hm’

‘what does she study?’

‘she's a music student’ it wasn't shoko replying but suguru.

‘how do you know?!’

‘she told me.’

satoru looks at shoko who just nods.

‘how do you get her to talk?’

‘she's not a toy who you can “get to talk”, satoru,’ suguru chides. ‘just talk to her nicely and she'll talk back, she's not that hard to talk to.’

satoru pouts. if only suguru knew.

☆

your classes had finished earlier than usual, and your fingers were sore from playing the guitar. rubbing your fingers to soothe the burn, you bump into someone.

hand on your waist, the someone catches you from falling and when you see who it is, you think you would've rather fallen than be caught by him.

it was sukuna.

‘still as sloppy as ever, i see.’ he rumbles.

you step back. ‘sukuna, fancy seeing you here.’ you say voice even.

‘i was just passing by to see my girlfriend.’ he says.

‘oh, girlfriend?’

‘yes, she's a music student too.’

you don't let anything show on your face reply with an ‘well, better be on your way then.’

and you walk away before he could speak again. well you walk away until you were out of view then you practically stomped all the way back to shoko's apartment.

you stepped in and slammed the door shut.

‘again with the goddamn door!’ shoko yelled from her room.

‘well someone's in a bad mood’ suguru remarks from the kitchen, god knows what he was doing in the fridge.

you let out a strangled sort of cry and kick a pillow on the ground.

‘what's up?’ gojo asks.

‘ugh this day is the worst!’ you exclaim.

‘what the fuck is all the noise about? i'm trying to work here!’ shoko tuts, coming out of her room.

‘guess who the universe decided to make me bump into today?’ you say, expression somewhere between pain and anger.

‘oh no, was it-?’ shoko starts.

‘if your answer was my trashy ex boyfriend sukuna, then you get a point!’ you say sarcastically.

gojo and geto suck in a breath.

‘he didn't even say hi, he just called me sloppy said he was going to meet his new girlfriend, who is also a music student and i just walked away. now i might have to see his stupid face now and then.’ you say sitting down, putting your head in your hands.

‘i bet you, his new girlfriend is not even half as pretty as you’ gojo says. and you smile at him. genuinely smile at him and he thinks his heart skipped a beat.

you let out a water laugh and say ‘sorry sho, i couldn't choke him.’

‘oh honey,’ sho says and pats your back.

‘hey do you want us to go beat him up because we will.’ gojo says.

you sniffle and let out a little giggle while wiping your nose with your sleeve and say ‘no, no need for that, thank you for the offer though.’

and satoru thinks his brain just short circuited. that was so fucking adorable.

‘do you want me to get something for you to eat or drink?’ suguru asks from the kitchen.

‘water would be nice.’

☆

that evening you realised you had just cried in front of gojo. you’d just showed him a part of you that had always been kept under close wraps. strangely, it didn't feel like exposing yourself, it felt as though you showed him a fragile flower, and he had treated it just right.

that night you realized, you trusted satoru gojo. and that to you was extraordinary because the only people you trusted in life were the ones closest to you. and you think now that gojo satoru definitely did make himself a little spot in your heart. no matter how annoying he was,

satoru gojo had started to grow on you.

a/n: i think this is my favourite chapter by far.

©hikariyaps2025

[saturneras]

Private Eyes VII

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Even though you haven't been speaking to Daniel since his friend Mark was being an asshole at the dance the other night, he has tried to get on your good side again by inviting you on a routine visit to check something for a case he has been working on. Finally wanting to see some police action, you obviously agree to tag long. Who cares that the chief has strictly told you not to do that? He is never going to know, is he?

Note: Happy belated Father's Day. Warnings: Gun violence, some blood and death - but just for the drama, nothing too graphic.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Tag List: @kellyxo1 @alitaar @suzysface

The station flies out of your field of vision as Daniel accelerates the car. You're seated behind a rookie called Sam that is just freshly out of the academy. Having been cooped up inside all day, you're happy to finally get some fresh air and see some actual police work. The sun is just gathering its last afternoon strength, hitting the windshield of the car.

"You excited to finally get out in the field?" Daniel asks, catching your glance in his rearview mirror.

You nod. "Sure am."

He grins and takes a right. "It's a routine check up. So nothing too crazy."

"What's the procedure when we get there?" Sam asks, all eager.

"We'll park a little out of range, so he's not spooked by a police car in front of his house and then we'll just go up to the front door and knock."

"Just knock? No back up or securing the premises?" Sam asks, his eyebrows now drawn.

"The plate we ran hopefully belongs to a guy that did some minor credit card fraud, nothing violent and no prior convictions or arrests. So he's probably just going to be a bit antsy when we get there."

Sam nods and glances out of his passenger window. Your phone buzzes with another text from Lucy. It's the fourth one today.

Lucy: Come on!

Lucy: Who would I even tell? The cattle?

Lucy: Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Lucy: If you won't, I'm just going to ask Joel next time I see him.

You sigh and type a quick response. At work now. Talk to you later. Since the dance, Lucy has been desperately trying to get you to tell her what in god's name had gotten into Joel that night. And why he almost got into a fight because of it. Just like Casey, who sided with Joel in the matter on how he handled the situation, Lucy has asked you to explain. But unlike Casey, who just nodded and said that he would definitely set Mark straight next time he saw him, when you said that Joel probably just wanted to protect the station's honour, Lucy did not buy that shit. But what are you possibly going to say? It's not as if you yourself knew why he flipped out like that. Obviously, he's got a control issue, but why does he have to show it in front of every fucking person you went to Highschool with?

"Almost there," Daniel says from the front and takes another turn, before pulling the car into a small parking lot in front of a strip mall with a deserted liquor store and a bagel shop that's closed.

You get out of the car and take a look around. It's a street with a couple of small run down houses to the side and nothing but fields encapsulating the strip mall.

"It's the third house on the left there around the corner. Should be a brown one with a porch," Daniel says and starts walking in the direction of the street corner.

Sam and you both follow, staying a little behind. Once you've reached the other side of the street, you all come to a halt. Daniel runs a hand over his head and sighs.

"Alright," he starts, "Sam and I are going to go up to the front door. You," he says pointing at you. "You'll stay safely on the sidewalk, ok?"

You nod. "Will do."

Daniel grins, cockily. "Well, that was easy. Let's g-

You hear the car before you can see it. The sound of the roaring engine fills the air and in a matter of two seconds, a truck almost drifts around the corner you all just came from. You don't even have to blink twice before noticing its distinct colour before it comes to a screeching halt right across the street from you three. In one swift motion, the chief opens the door, gets out and slams it shut so forcefully, the truck wobbles from the impact.

Sam whispers a quiet and stretched out fuck as he spots Joel stalking across the street without even checking for incoming vehicles.

You can hear Daniel gulp as he turns to face the chief, quickly setting his face back into a calm and collected exterior.

"Hey, Chief, what-

Joel doesn't even look at Daniel as he closes the distance between you in two last aggressive steps.

"Get in the truck, right now!" He shouts.

Daniel raises his hands in protest. "Hey now, she's with me today."

"She sure as hell is not, Riley!" Joel snaps, still glaring at you. "Get in, now."

While Sam has moved a couple steps away to a safer distance, Daniel steps up next to Joel.

You shake your head. "Daniel said I could tag along. It's just a routine check up."

"I didn't authorise that so no," Joel says, moving in on you. "And it's not routine. It's a confrontation with somebody suspected of fraud, who could potentially resist and be armed."

Daniel scoffs. "He faked a bunch of credit cards and used them to buy stuff online. He didn't build an organised crime lab."

"I ain't gonna ask you again," Joel says, his gaze still holding yours. His voice is nothing more than a growl at this point.

You move out of his way and position yourself between Daniel and Sam. Joel's eyebrows draw into a frown.

"I don't need your authorisation for a routine drive," Daniel says.

Joel's head slowly turns to Daniel. "You need it to take her with you."

Daniel shakes his head. "Actually, I don't. I asked the Sheriff and he said it would be fine."

"You asked your Daddy?" Joel raises his eyebrows. "Wow, Riley. That's peak leadership behaviour right there."

"She deserves to see some practice, Chief," Daniel counters.

Joel shakes his head in one swift motion. "I don't care what your Daddy says, Riley. She's not staying."

"Since I have higher jurisdictional authorisation, you don't get to decide that. We've got work to do," Daniel says.

"Let's go," Daniel says to you. "That's an order."

Joel's head snaps to him. "The only person she's taking orders from is me, Riley!"

"Fine," Daniel says and without further discussion turns around to start walking toward the street corner, making a turn.

Sam and you are quick to catch up and while he quickly follows Daniel around the corner, you are close behind him. You're about to turn, when Joel grabs your arm and pulls you back into him from behind, keeping you behind the hedge on the corner. Your back hits his chest and he holds your arm tightly pressed against your stomach. The impact is more uncomfortable than usual. His hand is warm and rough against your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Take one more step and by God I will loose my shit," he says. His lips barely, but noticeably touching your ear.

"I think it's too late for that, Miller," you snap. "Let me go!"

You try to wriggle out of his embrace, but can't gather any leverage.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He says.

"Trying to get you off of me!"

Joel tightens his grip and you squeal a little. "I am talking about your little road trip with these idiots here."

"I told you, Daniel asked me and said it was cool for me to come," you explain, using your other hand to try to push his away.

"Why do you keep listening to Riley and not me?" Joel says.

"You think everything I do is an act in defiance against you," you hiss. "This has nothing to do with you, Miller."

"Maybe it has if I'm the only one you're not listening to."

"Maybe you just give stupid orders."

Joel pulls on your hand and turns you around to face him, pushing you into the hedge. Tiny sharp branches pressing into your back.

"I told you to not to go out into the field for safety reasons," Joel says.

"And I did it anyway and now we're here," you say. "You gonna threaten to throw me over your shoulder again?"

His eyebrows lift and you can hear his breath hitch for a split second, before he lets go of you, taking a step back.

"Don't," he says, his eyes being warning enough.

"I will, if you stop showing up and acting like I'm some helpless girl in need of a guardian," you say and he scoffs.

"I'm just trying to keep you safe," Joel says.

"And have you satisfied that kink now or do you need another moment?"

Joel's jaw tenses. You can tell he's trying to hold back whatever you're provoking in him, as he clenches his fists next to his hips, knuckles turning white.

"For once, I just need you to do as I say," Joel says huskily, grabbing the car keys from his pocket to hand them to you. "Now be a good girl and get in the truck for me."

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. "If you want me to call you Daddy, you just have to ask nicely, Mr. Miller."

Joel's gaze turns dark without another second to spare, as he lowers his head like a predator ready to pounce.

"Don't make me take you up on that offer, Darlin'," Joel murmurs, still holding out the key.

"Relax, I won't," you say and without another word make a run for the corner. Once you've almost reached the brown house, you slow down and take a look over your shoulder, to find Joel coming after you in quick determined steps.

Daniel and Sam are still standing in front of the house, looking at you now.

"All good, let's go," you say, before Joel can reach you and Daniel nods, moving toward the front door.

"Don't knock on that door, Riley!" Joel says, coming up behind you.

Daniel presses the doorbell, with Sam in position right behind him. Nothing happens for a solid 20 seconds and then Daniel knocks on the door.

"Police, open up!" He calls.

You take a step into the front yard, through the garden gate. Immediately Joel's hand is on your arm, pulling you behind him.

"Stay behind," he says. "You're not wearing a vest-

You see the shot or rather its impact, before you hear the loud noise. The window next to the door shatters and before you can realise what is happening, you hear two other shots. Daniel and Sam throw themselves on the ground as Joel's deafening shout resounds next to your ear, followed by a piercing ringing.

"Down!"

In the blink of an eye your feet are lifted up from the path and a second later you find yourself face down on the ground in front of the porch, pressed down by a heavy weight. Joel.

Your face is buried in the grass and you can't move any part of your body, as Joel has covered every inch of it with his. His arms are wrapped around you, his hands on your head.

"Stay down!" He orders in a voice you haven't heard before. It's so void of any of his usual demeanour that it's scary. Another round of shots hit the ground and the fence, as you hear Daniel shouting something from afar. You flinch from the sound. Joel lifts himself off of you slightly, to give you room to turn your head toward his face.

"Are you hurt?" He shouts, his eyes trying to scan your body for injuries without removing his cover, his hands moving to pat your sides. "Did you get shot? Are you okay?"

You try to say something, but the words are not making it out of your mouth. It's like you're paralysed, your brain short circuiting. Your eyes scan the space around you.

"Eyes on me, Baby," he says, "Are you okay?"

You manage to shake your head. Another shot, someone screams.

"Get under the porch," he says coldly and when he sees the panic in your eyes he eases his tone. "You're okay. They're not gonna hit you. Listen to me. I got you, Baby. They won't hit you, okay?"

You glance into his eyes and their stare softens slightly.

"You just get under the porch, when I say so, yeah?"

You nod.

"And you don't come out before I get you, we clear? You come out for no one else, okay?"

You nod again.

"Alright. On my signal."

Joel slides his body off of yours and motions for you to crawl under the porch. When he mumbles 'now' into your ear, you gather all your courage and quickly make your way over, pushing your body under the floor boards. Out of your hiding spot, you see Joel moving to a crouch, drawing the gun that's strapped to his hip and calling for Daniel, who responds something you can't understand. He makes his way toward the entrance and in a split second he raises his gun and fires off three shots. You hear something heavy drop the moment Joel staggers back from an impact on his chest.

"Clear," he shouts and you hear Daniel from the back of the house finally repeat the word.

Joel looks down his body, clutching his chest and swears. That's when you see the hole in his shirt, right below his heart.

"Joel!" You scream and he catches your glance, his expression somehow surprised right before he slowly sinks down on his knees.

Without hesitation, you pull yourself out from under the porch and try to get up, but your knees are buckling, so you can only stagger slowly toward him.

He now has turned to sit on the grass, breathing heavily.

"Did you get shot?" You shout, as you finally reach him. You lower yourself to your knees in front of him and grab his arm. "Are you okay? Fuck, Joel!"

He lifts his head and glares at you. "I told you to stay under the fucking porch until I came to get you!"

You frown. "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

The shirt is ripped on the side of his shoulder and there is blood trickling down his arm. You reach for the hand holding his chest, but he scoots back a little.

"And you still came out before," he says, every word a strangled breath.

"Christ, who gives a fuck?"

"I. Give. A. Fuck," Joel accentuates.

"What are you gonna do now, huh? Spank me?"

"Maybe I should, if it gets you to listen."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Mr. Miller," you say, finally moving his hand to the side to reveal the gaping hole in his chest. Or rather his shirt. Because the only thing that you can see is a dark blue bulletproof vest with a single bullet stuck inside. He was wearing a vest. Thank the lord.

"Jesus," you say, sitting back on your feet, flinching as a sharp pain shoots through your right leg. You must have twisted it or something, when Joel practically jumped on you. "I thought you got shot."

"I did," Joel says.

"Where the fuck is this blood coming from?"

Joel turns slightly to his right. "Think they got me on my shoulder."

"We need to call an ambulance right now," you say, reaching for your phone.

He shakes his head. "Sam has already called it in."

"Can you get up?" You ask.

Joel doesn't reply, but just slowly leans to his side, lifting himself off the ground to his feet. You rise to meet him.

"Fucking hell," he hisses.

You see Daniel coming out of the house and Sam appearing from the backyard, both not meeting your gaze.

"The EMT will be here in five," Daniel says, sitting down on the porch steps. That's when you catch the sight of the two bodies laying on the ground behind him. You inhale sharply, making Joel turn around to follow your gaze. "Oh god."

"Don't turn around", he says, grabbing your hip to pull you to his chest. He winces slightly, but engulfs you into a tight hug, pushing your head to the side, facing him. "Keep your eyes on me."

Joel starts moving you out of the front yard onto the street. He makes you take the short walk down the street around the corner, you were just standing behind a couple of minutes ago.

Joel motions for you both to walk over to his truck. When you stand before it, he lets go and you turn to fully face him. He's standing there, one hand holding his shoulder, the other arm hanging limp next to his body. A breeze lifts up the strands of curly hair that have fallen into his forehead. The evening sun laying her last rays on his face. He makes a move to stand up straighter, but winces and keeps his upper body slightly bend.

"Did you shoot these two guys?" You ask him and he sighs.

"Yes," he says, holding your glance.

"Are they dead?"

"Yes," he says, a deep frown settling on his face.

You can't even help it and honestly you're a little confused why it took you such a long time, but all of a sudden you realise what just happened and a single tear starts building up to slide down your cheek, followed by many more. Your hand raises to cover your mouth as you start crying, your body shaking from the aftershock of adrenalin now pumping through your veins.

Joel's hand moves around you and pulls the back of your head towards his chest again. "It's okay," he whispers.

He lowers his chin on your head, letting his hand slide down your back in soothing strokes. "It's okay," he repeats as your sobs get heavier.

"You're okay. I got you, Babygirl. I got you," he whispers into your hair. Joel tightens his arm around you and settles his hand on the back of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him in tighter, careful not to touch his bleeding arm.

"I'm so sorry," you manage to get out between sobs.

You feel him lift his head up from yours, looking down on you.

"What for?" He says.

You raise your head from his chest. "For all this."

"Oh Honey," he says, "this wasn't your fault. You're not the one in charge here."

"But I went along?"

"Sure you did," he says, his thumb slowly tracing the side of your neck. "But you weren't the one whose call was to decide whether this was a routine check up, were you?"

You shake your head slightly. "Daniel said the guy wouldn't be violent. Why did they have guns?"

"This is Texas, Baby," Joel says and lifts his hand to wipe a tear from your cheek. "Everyone owns a gun here."

The sound of the ambulance resounds in the distance and moments later two EMT trucks pull up to the scene. One drives by and the other comes to a halt right next to the two of you. A man and a woman, jump out and grab a huge red backpack from the car. The woman starts running around the car in the direction of the house and the man makes his way to you.

"Chief!" He shouts and drops the backpack a couple feet away from you. Joel turns around to face him.

"I'm fine," Joel says.

You suddenly realise that you are still completely engulfed in his arms, bodies flush against each other. You make a motion to move back a little, but Joel's arm presses to your back, keeping you even tighter against him.

"Respectfully, sir, you're bleeding," the paramedic replies, craning his neck to look around Joel. "What about her?"

"Also fine."

"Yeah, she looks totally fine from here, Chief," he says and takes a step toward you.

"I will remind you that I still have bullets left, Tyler," Joel declares in a cold tone, "you come near her and I might put them to good use."

Tyler raises his hands. "I'm just checking if she needs any medical attention, sir."

"I already did," Joel says, "And she sure as hell does not need someone strange man near her right now. So back the fuck up, kid."

"It's protocol, Chief," he insists.

Joel groans. "Do I look like I give a shit about your paperwork right now?"

"No, sir."

"Then go and help Tanya out with the other guys."

"You should go to the hospital, Chief," Tyler says, "you're not safe to drive with that wound on your arm."

"Yeah, yeah," Joel says, "I'll go later."

"Can she take you?" Tyler says, looking at you. "Can you take him to the hospital, ma'am? Are you okay to drive?"

"Yes," you say.

"Okay, if he stops being 'fine', you take him to the E.R. immediately, okay?"

"I will," you say.

"Call an ambulance, if he shows any signs of fever or symptoms related to an infection."

You nod and Tyler shakes his head. "You're getting on my last nerve, Chief."

"Always a pleasure, Tyler," Joel says and the paramedic grabs his backpack, hops back into his truck and drives off.

You both stand in silence for another moment.

"Are you okay?" Joel says softly.

You nod your head. "Yeah, I'm okay, thanks. Should I take you home?"

Joel sighs. "I think that would be good, yes."

He hands you the keys to his truck and you both get into the car. Once you sit down, you see the cut on your upper thigh. Your pants are ripped open slightly. You must have gotten it when pushed down. You don't say anything to alert Joel, who is already leaning his head against the window, eyes closed. Already having memorised the way, half an hour later you pull into his driveway, killing the engine and stepping out of the car.

The sun has already sunk behind the horizon and the sky has turned into lovely shades of violet and blue. You unlock the front door and make space for Joel to step inside. He walks past you into the kitchen and you follow.

It's still dark in the house, so you carefully make your way around the island, but overlook the last barstool on the corner and walk right into it, injured leg first.

"Fuck," you swear and hold onto your thigh.

The light turns on and Joel's head immediately snaps back to yours.

"What happened?"

You just groan and wave it off. "All good."

"What the fuck is that on your leg?" Joel says, angrily and moves over to you. "You said you weren't hurt!"

"It's nothing, it's just a cut. I think I might have slid over a rock or branch or something."

Joel sighs heavily and immediately walks into the bathroom. You can hear cabinets being opened and things falling on the floor. He comes out again with two boxes looking like first aid kits.

"What do you think you're doing?" You say and follow him into the living room.

Joel puts the boxes down on the coffee table. "Cleaning and dressing."

You shake your head. "No, it's just a little scratch."

"Ain't look like that to me, Darlin'," he says and motions to the couch. "Sit down."

A wave of fatigue hits you and you're too tired to resist, so you take a seat in the middle of the sofa. Joel pushes the coffee table to the side and gets on his knees in front of you. He leans over to turn on the lamp on the side, illuminating just the couch and you, sat there. You can now see and feel that the cut must be longer than the actual rip in your pants.

"Shouldn't you be the one sitting here? Since you actually got shot?"

Joel shakes his head. "It's not that bad."

"Fine," you say, "you do me and I'll do you after."

Joel's eyes snap up to yours and you can tell from the way he's looking at you, kneeling, that he's exactly thinking what you're thinking.

"With the cleaning and dressing and such, of course," you explain.

"Of course," Joel agrees and opens the first aid kit, taking out some disinfectant and bandages. He suddenly stops and looks down at your thigh, clearing his throat.

"I-," he starts, visibly getting uncomfortable. "I need to open it up more to see the whole cut."

"Oh, sure, okay," you breathe.

Joel nods and gets the scissors from the kit. He starts cutting your pants open slowly, careful not to let the cold metal graze your skin. First he cuts toward your knee and once he's reached the end of the cut, he starts on the other side. This time he goes even slower, every snap of the scissors echoing in the otherwise dead silent room. Joel's eyes are locked onto his hands. Once he's reached the upper end of the cut, he halts for a second and then continues to cut open your pants until he has reached the point where your legs meet your hips.

"I think that's it," you say.

Joel releases a pressed breath. "Yeah."

He places the scissors back into the box and opens up the hole in your jeans or what's left of them to reveal your bare thigh. You inhale sharply and Joel's eyebrows draw together quickly as he sees the goosebumps appear on your thigh.

His hands quickly reach for the disinfectant and puts some on a wound dressing. "This might hurt a bit."

Once he dabs it on your cut, a sharp sting runs through your leg. You flinch and grab Joel's arm.

"Fuck," you hiss.

"Sorry," Joel says and continues to clean the cut, once you've removed your hand.

In a couple of moments he has put dressing on your leg and wrapped it carefully with some bandage. His fingers slowly and steadily moving across your skin.

"All done," he says and gets up from the floor. You follow him and motion to the sofa.

"Your turn," you say.

He shakes his head. "I got it."

"Let me help you, Miller."

"I can do it!" He snaps and you keep pointing at the couch.

"I didn't say you couldn't," you reply soothingly, "just let me help you out okay?"

Joel groans and sits down on the sofa, leaning back into the couch, sighing heavily. Your eyes follow his movement, scanning him there seated in front of you.

"I need you to take off your shirt," you say and Joel runs a hand over his face.

"I really can do it myself, it just grazed me."

"Take it off, Miller," you instruct and he sighs, starting to unbutton his shirt. He moves back from the back of the couch to shrug off the shirt and winces when he has to move his hurt shoulder. Once it's off, he rips open the velcro on the bulletproof vest and also pulls it off. Now he is just sitting there in a dark blue t-shirt. Before you can tell him to, he grabs the hem of the shirt and with his good hand, he pulls it over his head, groaning. Joel throws the shirt on the ground and breathes heavily.

"Happy now?" He says, mockingly.

You nod.

He closes his eyes and leans back, giving you a full view of his bare torso. It's slightly glistening from the sweat that must have gathered under the layers and you can't help but swallow some saliva that has suddenly pooled in your mouth.

You grab the disinfectant, the dressing and lower one knee on to the couch next to him.

"I can't reach your shoulder, if you're leaning back," you say and Joel opens his eyes.

"Oh, sorry," he says and moves his torso forward.

You start applying the disinfectant and Joel doesn't even flinch, but keeps moving his body further away from you.

"You done soon?" He asks.

"Not if you keep moving away from me. I can't reach the back of your shoulder like this."

Joel sighs and rolls his eyes.

"And it's hard kneeling on my leg," you say.

Joel frowns. "Just sit down."

"I can't fully see it in the lighting with you leaning back if I sit down next to you."

"Just sit down," Joel says huskily and grabs the back of your bent leg, pulling you onto his lap and moving his body forward, his naked chest almost touching yours. You freeze.

"Better?" He says and you don't reply, just continue to dap the patch on the wound and then start putting on a bandage.

You've obviously been close to him before. But this feels different. More intimate somehow. The feel of his hips below yours is not something you wanted to know like that. You knew exactly how hard it would be to forget it. Almost impossible.

You keep shifting your set to adjust the bandage, when Joel releases a pressed breath.

"Please say you're done," he says, "and stop moving around so much."

"You were the one who pulled me on your lap, remember?"

"A decision I'm starting to regret," he says.

"Sorry if it's too heavy I-

"Are you done?" Joel interrupts.

You nod. "Yes."

Joel sighs and pushes himself forward, wrapping one arm around your back and in one swift motion rises to a stand, with your legs wrapped around him.

"You think again before finishing that sentence, Darlin'."

He releases you and puts you down on the ground, your body sliding slowly down his'.

Joel's eyes trail down your face to your chest and back up.

"Thank you," he says and steps back to sit down on the couch again.

He runs a hand over his eyes and exhales.

"You good?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Yeah, just thinking 'bout all the paper work I have to deal with now. The Sheriff and the fucking mayor are going to have a field day with this."

"I truly am sorry about that," you say.

"It wasn't your fault," he says.

You shake your head. "No, not that. I'm sorry for not listening to what you said. I should have asked you first."

Joel's eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

You roll your eyes. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Too late for that now, Darlin'," he says and tries to moves his hurt shoulder, but clenches his jaw and closing his eyes in pain.

"Maybe you should try to relax a little."

"Not my style, Sweetheart."

"You just got shot, Joel," you say, sternly.

He opens his eyes and glances up toward you, an almost unnoticeable lift of the corner of his mouth.

"What?" You ask.

"And here I thought I would have to get into another life threatening situation to hear you say my name again."

You take a step toward him and slightly tap your foot against his boot. "I told you, if you want me to do something, you just have to ask nicely."

Joels eyes drag themselves over your body, his hips shifting on the couch. The silence is deafening as he just sits there, looking at you standing before him. You don't know what's going to happen. You just know that you desperately want it to.

"I should take you home," Joel mumbles, but doesn't make a move.

You nod. "You probably should, yeah."

"Do you wanna go home?" He asks, his eyes fixated on your lips.

You shake your head. "Not really, no."

Joel groans softly. "What do you want then?"

"I want you to relax," you say.

"It's not that easy, Darlin'."

"Then let me help you out with that," you say, moving in between his knees.

Joel's lips part slightly. "Come on now, Baby," he whispers. "You know I can't let you do that."

"Why?" You say and slowly get on your your knees once again. Joel shakes his head, pushing his hips back into the couch.

"I need you to get up, Darlin'," he drawls.

"Why?" You repeat.

"You know your brother is going to kill me first and then you if I do."

"Since when are you such a good boy, huh?"

"Since he talked to me after the dance," Joel says, eyes now fully focused on your body, as if waiting for an attack.

"And what did he say?"

"He asked if I had done something he would make me regret."

"And what did you tell him?"

"The truth."

"And that is?"

"That I had not," he says.

You put your elbows on his knees, interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on them. Gazing up at Joel, he frowns.

"What?"

"I'm waiting," you say.

"For what?"

"For the 'yet'," you say.

Joel huffs out a breath, the specks in his eyes flickering in the light of the lamp. He runs his hand through his hair one more time, pulling back his dark curls. His bare chest moving with every strained breath.

"Maybe we should talk first," Joel says. "About what happened at the dance hall."

"Really?"

"Really."

"It's not that complicated. You tried to play the hero, I got annoyed with you for handling my business for me and then I said some words that I didn't really mean. I'm sorry 'bout that. Good?"

Joel grins. "So you don't think I'm just waiting for my turn, huh?"

"Why don't we find out?"

"Can't touch you, Darlin'," he states matter of factly.

"You just did a couple of seconds ago," you correct him.

Joel lowers his head slightly. "Not like that."

You lift your head from your hands and let your hand fall onto his thigh. You can feel the muscle twitch almost immediately as you move your hand higher.

"What if I do?" You say.

"Sounds exactly like the kinda thing you shouldn't be doing now, does it?" Joel says, grabbing your hand. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"I'm trying to help you loosen up a little, Mr. Miller," you reply.

Joel chuckles. "Whatever you think you're doing, it ain't loosening up anything."

You move up your other hand, but Joel's glare makes you stop.

"I need you to stop that," he says calmly.

"Just tell me if you don't want to," you say, leaning back a little. "I can take it."

"I'm sure you can, Darlin'," he drawls and you narrow your eyes.

"Said I can't," Joel sighs, "not that I don't want to."

Your tongue traces over your lower lip and Joel‘s eyes glaze over.

"Good," you whisper.

"Good," Joel agrees, his hooded eyes still watching you, but less alert now, more relaxed. You let your eyes wander over his upper body, taking in the sight of his broad chest, rising and falling before you.

"You don't have to touch me," you say, moving your hand from his thigh to the top button of your shirt. "But you can watch, right?"

[alien-grlfriend]

early mornings. ft xavier. love and deepspace.

tags : fluff, soft sleepy!xavier, est-relationship.

💫

soft, warm rays slotted through the half-open blinds onto xavier’s light hair. you stretched awake, blinking your eyes open against the light. xavier’s pale arm laid across your waist. it was warm and heavy. made you feel comforted like an eternal hug.

at your squirming awake, xavier grunted, pulling you closer into his chest. his tshirt looked so comfortable pulled his muscles. your lips curled into a soft smile at the sight, his eyes still pressed closed. like he wss determined to go back to sleep and drag you with him.

“good morning, xavi.” you said, almost singing. one of your hands coming up to curl in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers.

“mm, poppet can't we go back to sleep for a little while.” his voice was rough and slurred from the sleep that blurred his reality.

“i don't think so, lovey.” you sighed leaning up, trying to shed yourself from his arms. wanting a full stretch, but your plans were quickly diverted. his arms clamping around your figured determined to keep you in bed for at least a little bit longer.

“that might cost you some kisses.” he joked, the side of his lips tilting up into a playful smile.

his beautiful blue eyes finally found yours as his arms came around you. propping himself up to cage you in his arms. his leaned over you, his bangs falling iver his eyes just a bit.

“i think i can manage that.” you giggled back as he leaned down to enclose your lips with his.

one. two. three. sweet pecks before he pulled away. smiling dumbly at you, like he does after every kiss. so filled with love for you, always.

“okay, xavi, i really should get up.” at the mere mention of attempting to leave again, he drops his head on your chest. arms warpping around you like a child with their plushie.

“no,” he whined.

“we don't even work today, let's have a lazy day.” big blue eyes peered at you, hie lip jutting out for extra measure. a tactic he undoubtedly learned from you.

your determination to be productive was slipping. how could you possibly say no to him?

“okay.” you smiled leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

[yueichihara]

"Shut up!" - LaDS reactions.

LaDS boys reacting to you screaming at them to shut up.

Summary: How hard can it be to ask for a little peace and quiet when you're finally having a little bit of time for yourself? But they dismiss your request and have the audacity to pester you even further.

These are short stories, about a tired MC who keeps being called out to work, and whenever they're free they go out with the boys and spend no time to chill at home to recharge. So they snap.

cw: snapping at zayne, straddling, fluff

Tags: @sxremmie @hirostrvw

Xavier - pt. 1 - 637 words

Rafayel - pt. 2 - 944 words

Caleb - pt. 3 - 952 words

Zayne - pt. 4 - 1,090 words

Sylus - pt. 5 - 1,080 words.

After two weeks of back to back fights and report filing, you'd finally gotten a day off to relax at home. Moreover, it was the release date for a game you'd been highly anticipating.

You'd gone through all the proper preparations: phone turned on silence mode, all your favourite snacks, a comfy setting at your couch to be able to spend hours without worrying too much about posture.

You'd woken up fairly early because of your usual schedule, and took this chance to start downloading the game, getting breakfast done and cleaning around a little bit so that your consciousness wouldn't betray your relaxing state mid-game.

It was noon already, you'd been immersed playing for a few hours now and your stomach had started to ask for something sturdier.

Getting your phone out, you scrolled over the delivery app looking for something that may catch your attention. When you've settled on something, you decided to get something else for the evening, just in case you lost track of time as it had happened before. 

The doorbell rings a few minutes after you'd sent the order. Puzzled, since the app signaled that the delivery was still getting prepared, and you hadn't invited anyone over, you waited it out. If it was something important, they would ring twice. 

You start playing again, getting into a side quest that would give you loads of currency, when the door rings again, repeatedly.

Cautiously peeking through the comms screen, you see Zayne looking back, expression unreadable. You hurry over and open the door. You have no time to greet him as he cups your face and turns you over checking for something. 

“Zayne! Stop, what are you doing!?” You move away as he reaches for your face, and he stops midway at the stern tone in your voice. 

His fingers flex and he lowers his hands, bending down to get his bags and following you inside. “I've been calling you all day. I asked you to call me yesterday after you left work, but you didn't. I thought you were tired so I didn't insist, but you wouldn't answer your phone today.” As he steps further into the room, he catches sight of your gaming set-up, the screen on pause. The concern in his voice turns into something sharper. “But it looks like you're just fine.”

You turn around looking at him and the bags on his hands, ignoring the tone of the last sentence. “Well, I’ve been working non-stop for a few weeks, weekends included. I just wanted two days of peace and quiet to relax. What’s in the bags?” You ask, moving over to the couch to continue the game. You’re used to having him over, trusting he’ll either come sit beside you or over at the table to continue his own work. He does neither, and as your focus centers on the game, you fail to notice him putting away the groceries he brought over, not answering your question. After a while he comes over and stands behind you. Again, you fail to notice that he started talking.

A while goes by and your focus starts to falter as you start to register his tone and presence behind you, the noise only driving your consciousness further away from the fight on the screen. You grimace as the enemy lands a hit that makes your PH go down to 10%. Suddenly feeling irritated, you shout over your shoulder “Shut up! I’m trying to focus here.” Another hit lands true and the words GAME OVER appear on the screen, at the same time the delivery app rings to signal that the delivery is at your buildings’ door. Throwing the control on the table, you turn towards your phone and open the notification tab, only to notice the dozen missing calls from Zayne. Your heart clenches and you suddenly remember what you just did, frustration washed away by guilt.

Slowly turning to him, you swallow the lump in your throat as you notice the cold look in his eyes. “Say that again.” He says with his arms crossed over his chest. You try to divert his attention, mentioning the delivery and rushing over to get your food, trying to shake the sensation that ran down your spine. Back in your apartment, you find Zayne now sitting on the couch, arms still crossed. He looks over as you move to put the food on the counter, you feel his gaze on you at every movement. Turning back to him, you see him pat the space beside him, signaling you to come over. 

But instead of sitting where he told you to, you straddle his lap, putting your arms around his neck. You feel him stiffen against you before he relaxes, his arms going around your waist, patting your back. You sigh against his shoulder before pulling away slightly, cupping his face with both hands, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“You should be apologising for not picking up my calls.” One of his hands moves to cup your face, too. “But I’m sorry, too. I know you’ve been stressed lately, and our dates also take a toll on you, even if you don’t want to admit it. Especially after you’ve been going non stop at your work and fighting wanderers.” 

You sigh and lean over his shoulder again, letting yourself melt against him. “I’m sorry about the calls, too. And about the dates… I think I might need a few of them to be at home. Maybe our dessert tour needs a break.” He chuckles and continues to draw soothing circles on your back. 

“Yeah, we can go back to it once we’re both more free.” A while goes back and you stay like that, wrapped around him, drowsiness washing over you. “Ah.” He says after a while, pulling you away from sleep. Concerned, you move away to look at his face, his eyes on the screen and a slight blush on his ears.

“What?” You try to catch his sight but he avoids looking you in the eyes. 

“I just remembered you told me about this game and your plans for when it came out a few weeks ago.” 

Your mouth opens and closes before you burst out laughing. You pull away and catch his hand, pulling him up and making him follow you. “Come, I’m starving and I ordered two meals. Thankfully, you’re staying over and cooking dinner tonight to compensate for making me lose this round.”

[jamesmcalover]

imagine halfdan and stem gf

like she's doing homework or something and he tries to be supportive and help but sees the exercises and dies inside

numbers & nonsense

Hálfdán Helgi Matthíasson (Væb) x Reader

Warnings: maths, physics

a/n: very short one bc i was busy today sorry xx also, i was pretty bad at maths & physics in school so forgive me if anything's wrong😔

478 words - not proofread

The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of your pen across the page. You were sprawled across the table, deep in the middle of some impossibly dense physics homework, your brow furrowed in concentration. Hálfdán was perched nearby, watching you with an almost reverent curiosity, like you were an alien life form that had somehow decided to study him instead.

“Sæta,” he said softly, leaning over your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Don’t you want to take a break?”

You shook your head without even looking up. “I can’t,” you mumbled. “If I stop now, I’ll lose my momentum.”

Hálfdán made a small, sympathetic noise, shifting a little closer so he could peek at what you were working on. “Can I help at all?” he asked, his voice hopeful. “Or at least keep you company?”

You paused, your pen hovering above the page. “You can try,” you said, your lips twitching at the challenge. “But fair warning, it’s a bit of a mess.”

He nodded solemnly and leaned in. You watched him as his eyes scanned the equations, his eyebrows drawing together almost immediately. A second later, he let out a small, strangled laugh. “What… what even is this?” he asked, tapping the page with a finger. “I see numbers and squiggles and… I’m pretty sure this one’s a cat, somehow?”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “It’s not that bad,” you said, though you had to admit the page did look like a secret code to anyone who wasn’t knee-deep in STEM work.

Hálfdán squinted at the lines of variables and integrals. “Okay, but this–” he pointed at an integral sign that stretched half the page “This just killed me. It’s so… long. And curvy. Why is it curvy?”

You reached out and patted his hand gently. “It’s calculus,” you said, as if that explained everything.

“Calculus,” he repeated, his tone somewhere between awe and horror. “I thought I was good at math, but this… this is another world. I’ll cheer from the sidelines.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek, your own laughter fading into a fond smile. “That’s all I need,” you said. “Just someone to keep me from losing my mind.”

He grinned back at you, eyes bright. “You’ve got it,” he said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll make sure you get snacks and water and moral support. And I’ll try not to faint every time I look at those math monsters.”

“Deal,” you said, your heart full as you turned back to the page. And true to his word, he stayed there with you, humming little melodies under his breath, every so often making a face at your notes and saying, “Still can’t believe you understand this,” with so much admiration that it made the whole mountain of homework feel just a little less impossible.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

a/n: re-reading this i kinda made him too stupid i think😭

[eriace]

ctrl + heart ; kenma kozume

oneshot & fluff ↪  in which kenma, cornered by kuroo’s teasing about being single, blurts out that he has a boyfriend—y/n—and now has to convince him to play along… not knowing y/n has had a crush on him for months. ↷ kenma kozume ; haikyuu ( ft. male reader)

↳ an order of cappuccino from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

KENMA KOZUME DIDN'T usually care about other people’s jokes. He was used to Kuroo’s constant pestering, the way his best friend poked at him like it was a daily hobby.

But today, after the third “So when are you finally getting a boyfriend or a girlfriend, Kenma?” something in him snapped.

“I already have one,” he said flatly, barely glancing up from his Switch.

Kuroo blinked, half-laughing. “Wait, what? Since when?”

Kenma shrugged. “A while.”

“Who?”

Another shrug.

“Kenma—”

He didn’t mean to do it. It just… slipped. “Y/n.”

Silence.

“Y/n… from the broadcast team? The one that’s always helping set up gear and hangs out with us after practice?”

Kenma nodded once, the lie falling into place too easily. Kuroo’s grin stretched like a cat that just found a mouse in a teacup.

“No way. You two are dating?”

Kenma looked up this time, deadpan. “Yeah. Got a problem?”

He regretted it instantly because now he had to make it true.

The next day, you found Kenma waiting near your locker, hoodie pulled over his head, phone in hand. He looked up the moment you approached and said, without greeting:

“I need you to fake date me.”

You blinked. “Uh. Good morning?”

Kenma sighed. “Kuroo wouldn’t shut up about me being single, and I said I had a boyfriend.”

You tilted your head. “So… you panicked and picked me?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or honored, but then he added:

“Because you’re the only one I’d actually want to date, fake or not.”

…oh.

Now that you weren’t prepared for.

“You do realize fake dating isn’t something people just agree to on the spot, right?”

Kenma looked mildly concerned. “You’re saying no?”

Your brain screamed, this is literally everything you’ve wanted for three months, so you shook your head too quickly. “No! I mean—yeah, I’ll do it.”

Kenma blinked. “Oh. That was easy.”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Let’s just say I’m not faking too much.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he coughed into his sleeve. “Good. Okay. Come on—Kuroo’s waiting in the gym.”

“Wow, we’re diving in fast.”

“I’m committed to the bit.”

Turns out, fake dating with Kenma was… fun.

He wasn’t overly clingy or loud, but the little things added up.

The way he’d casually link your pinkies while walking in the hallway. The way he’d mutter soft jokes under his breath, just for you. The way his eyes lit up when you brought him a new energy drink before his stream, claiming it was a “boyfriend tax.”

Even Kuroo seemed half convinced—until he cornered you one afternoon.

“So, you and Kenma, huh?”

You nodded, trying to look relaxed.

“You like him.”

You blinked. “Well, yeah. I thought that was the point—”

“No, I mean really like him.”

You turned scarlet. “...Does he know?”

Kuroo grinned. “Why don’t you ask him?”

You found Kenma later, holed up in the club room with his Switch, half-asleep. You hesitated before sitting beside him.

“Hey. Just wanted to say… I know this was all fake. And I’m fine going back to normal if you want.”

Kenma blinked slowly, then reached over and took your hand.

“I don’t.”

You froze. “You don’t… want to stop?”

“No.”

He stared at your linked fingers, then up at you.

“I like this. I like you. I was just too lazy to do anything about it until now.”

You huffed a laugh, heart thudding.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Kenma tilted his head, lips curving into a rare smile. “I know.”

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.