#and i also have no sense of direction of where i want to go next either 😔

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[runabout-river]

The end of jujutsu kaisen doesn’t feel like an ending, it look like the set up of a new arc

We will see where they want to go next, I’ll wait before judging Gege

But if he truly wanted to end his manga, 5 chapters with Sukuna battle in it, was waaaay too short, but also it’s feel weird like in every chapter they remind us that it’s the end, and there is zero mention of gojo as well

Even if the ending could have been better, i enjoyed the ride so it’s okay

I've enjoyed it too :D

I finally got back into fanfic writing because of JJK and now I'm furthering my Japanese by going through the original manga volume by volume on my new blog if you want to check it out. @jujusanpo-nihon I just started on JJK 0.

Now the ending of JJK: I wouldn't describe it as a set up for a new arc anymore. Of course, Gege obviously went the "the story will continue peacefully" route as Yuki's dream of getting rid of CE didn't come true and the first year trio is back again.

In terms of direct setups though Gege killed everything to do with Tengen, the Culling Games and political instability in JJ and even Japanese society by completely removing the clan collapse and the foreign invasion as a problem. The only setup from the last chapters that is left is Nobara's mother suddenly entering the picture.

In a sense, this ending is too much of an ending. Everything is neatly finished, the only conflicts that are left are already on their way to be solved, everyone who wasn't already absolutely confirmed to be dead is happy now, and the trio get to do missions together until the end of time.

I have to say, I subscribed to the theory that all of this is Yuji's dream and that he will wake up next chapter to having lost to Sukuna or the merger in some capacity. Read that theory up here but I'm all... Gege is fucking with us with how perfect everything turned out now.

[spacedlexi]

sooo glad we live in the universe where twdgs4 was rewritten to be about saving the school instead of the original lis2-esque on the road each-episode-is-a-new-location plot. really dodged a bullet there

dont know if it was due to the cuts and collapsing work environment (no budget for all the assets needed) or what but the school plot is just like the perfect setting for her to end her story. and we really almost got a plot about her.... just trying to make it back to her original house? oof

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Fandom things I'm looking forward to:

Kingdom Hearts IV and Missing Link

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth

Final Fantasy IX Remake

Final Fantasy Tactics Remaster or Remake (whichever it is. I've heard both things)

The fourth Madoka Magica movie, whenever that comes out (seriously. Where is it? First it was announced as the Concept movie. Then it was re-announced years later with a new name, and it's still missing)

The Percy Jackson TV show

The Infernal Devices TV show

Maybe the Twilight TV show. Maybe.

The animated Smallville continuation that Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum are working on, whenever it comes out

I was going to put Baron and Toluca on this list (that's, like, a spiritual successor to the OG "Roswell" TV show. Majandra Delfino who played Maria in the show wrote the script, and she and Brendan Fehr who played Michael star in it. They're also planning for more Roswell cameos in later episodes), but it came out and I didn't even know it? But I have no idea how to watch it, though, as I guess it only came out in theaters in Albuquerque. Here's hoping it comes out on DVD or something...

The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

The alleged Firefly reboot

The new Daredevil show

The Batman Part II

The next part in Tom Holland's Spider-Man movies

The DCU, starting with Superman Legacy in 2025

The Five Nights at Freddy's movie and Help Wanted 2

The Iron Lung movie

The TV show that it sounds like Markiplier will be working on after he's done with the Iron Lung movie

The next Bendy and the Ink Machine thing being worked on

MAYBE the Hello Neighbor sequel. I know. I KNOW! (It's really only because the second game had to end on a cliffhanger.)

Five Nights at Candy's 4

Frozen III

Disney's "Wish"

The next and final season of the Clear Card arc of Cardcaptor Sakura

The new Avatar series (the one about the third Avatar in the cycle: the Earth bender)

The live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender series, perhaps

The Chosen season 4

[arolesbianism]

Ok I finally stopped being a wuss and read that last Moca banner story and fuck. Fuck.

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[swingingcrab]

Me thinks

[lovegasmic]

i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA

⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.

 ⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷

I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^

there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.

he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’

Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.

it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.

walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.

“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.

“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.

we should hang out soon ;)

and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.

“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.

“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.

“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.

it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.

Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.

“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.

“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”

you swallow, “what are you doing here?”

“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”

“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”

he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.

“tell me what’s wrong”

“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”

“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”

you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.

“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.

“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.

there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”

“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.

“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”

“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.

he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”

reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤

[lemonlover1110]

can we get Toji reacting to reader's pregnancy

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff

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Ever since finding out that you’re eating for two, you’ve found yourself distressed. Not because this isn’t something that you were planning– Well partially because of that, but mainly because you don’t know what your boyfriend thinks of having more kids. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re expecting.

You don’t know how you’ve never had this conversation before, especially since you’ve started to talk about getting married. You know that he has a teenager, and probably he’s done with that part of his life. You also know that you’d be delighted to have kids, but if Toji wouldn’t want to have a child, you’re okay with that too. Your pregnancy changes everything though.

“Aren’t you two here early?” You ask, staring at the front door as Megumi and Toji walk in. Toji has a frown in his face while Megumi walks ahead, not a care in the world. You notice a stain on his school uniform and you tell him, “Put it in the washer, I’ll take care of it, Megs.”

“No, he can deal with the consequences of his actions in his little vacation.” Toji quickly speaks up, making you cock an eyebrow. You look back and forth between Toji and Megumi, hoping someone is going to fill you in. “Go to your room, Megumi. I can’t stand to look at your face anymore.”

“What happened?” You direct your attention to your husband since Megumi listens to his father and goes to his room. Toji sighs, walking over to you and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t tell me he–”

“Got into a fight. Got called in the middle of work to deal with his ass– Hey, at least he won.” Toji can’t help but chuckle because even though he’s mad, part of him still feels oddly proud. His kid is somewhat of a troublemaker, but hey, at least the kid can fight. He says something that makes the thoughts of worry that you pushed to the back of your mind, come back and even stronger. “Just glad I don’t have to deal with this much longer.”

“Right.” You awkwardly laugh. You follow Toji to your living room, and take a seat beside him on your couch. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you do this all the time, but Toji immediately knows that something is off. Your face wastes no time in telling on you.

“You okay? You look a little off.” Toji comments, throwing his arm over you and bringing you closer to him. You’re a little far today when you’re usually all over him. The man loves his personal space, but not when it comes to you. 

“Weird day… Weird week.” You mutter the last part, but Toji hears it loud and clear. He kisses the top of your head before asking,

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He proceeds to kiss the top of your head, and you bite down your lip. You have to tell him eventually, and you know that maybe this isn’t the right time to tell him, but he senses something is up.

“What do you think about having kids with me?” You speak a little fast, and if he wasn’t listening closely, he would have to ask you to repeat yourself. Toji takes a moment to think about it, acting perplexed. His silence is killing you and just when you’re about to repeat the question, he speaks up.

“Is this about the pregnancy test I found in the bathroom?” Toji mentions, and your eyes go wide. He’s known? He’s known all this time? He ends up kissing the tip of your nose before pecking your lips, “I’m happy with anything as long as I get to do it with you.”

“What about the comment that you made–” You begin and he interrupts you. 

“Was about Megumi, I’m making sure this one isn’t a troublemaker.” Toji clarifies as his hand goes to your lower abdomen. “I’m excited about this. I was wondering how long it’d take you to share.”

“Next time, speak up, I was scaring myself to death.” You lightly slap his chest, and he chuckles. You’re glaring at him, while he smirks at you. “You’re in so much trouble right now. Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

[mooooonnnzz]

I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

[runninriot]

keep your pretty face out of trouble

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 20

prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." | rated: T | wc: 2.596 | cw: mentions of blood, injuries, homophobia | tags: Steve Harrington is a mess, and so is his face, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friends to Lovers | also on ao3

Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he entered the Henderson’s home. Dustin had been quite vague on the phone, didn’t say much at all to be honest, nothing of substance at least. Nothing that could’ve prepared Eddie for what he finds when he steps into the living room where, next to his little pal, he finds none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the couch.

And as if that isn’t confusing enough, what’s really concerning is the way he looks.

His face is fucked. Beaten, bruised, mush. There is blood on his lower lip and dripping out from his nose into a tissue that’s already soaked.

Dustin is sitting by his side, holding what seems to be a bag of frozen peas against the older boy’s neck.

   “Dustin, what the fu-“

He doesn’t get to finish his question because Steve suddenly looks up, eyes wide in shock like he’s just now becoming aware of Eddie’s presence, before turning to Dustin with an expression that isn’t at all hard to read.

    What’s he doing here?

Dustin lets go of the frozen goods in order to hold both hands up defensively.

   “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know what to do, so I called Eddie.”

   “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”

   “You are very clearly not fine, Steve!”

They’re doing this weird but kinda adorable staring competition they often do when they’re arguing and it would be amusing to watch if it weren’t for whatever the fuck is going on with Steve’s face.

Dustin doesn’t waver, holds Steve’s disapproving gaze seemingly unimpressed but Eddie could hear the tremble in his voice, knows Dustin is only barely keeping it together.

Always trying to keep up a brave face, Dustin is, but Eddie knows his vulnerable side, too. Maybe that’s why Dustin called him instead of Wheeler or any of the other Gremlins when Steve- what? Appeared on his doorstep all beat-up? Or where they out together when it happened? Is Dustin hurt, too?

Eddie shakes himself out of his thoughts, lets his eyes wander between the two, both hands on his hips like he’s seen Steve do whenever he’s trying to make a point.

   “Alright, enough! Can someone please tell me what happened?” Eddie asks as he steps closer, watching Steve’s shoulders tense immediately.

   “I told you, I’m fine. I just- I didn’t know where else to go! Robin’s not home and-”

Okay, ouch! Eddie feels slightly offended. Steve could’ve come to him instead of-

Nevermind. There are bigger problems at hand.

   “It was stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve makes an attempt to stand up but his body betrays him as soon as he’s on his feet, swaying slightly into Eddie’s direction, who catches him instinctively, steadies him with a hand on his arm.

   “Woah there, big boy! You’re gonna sit your ass back down for me, okay?”

Eddie can sense that Steve wants to put up a fight but thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets Eddie guide him back down.

   “Some assholes did this to him,” Dustin finally says. “I don’t know who but Steve said he got into a fight.”

   “I only came here because it was closer than my place,” Steve grumbles, obviously regretting his decision now.

   “You scared the shit out of me, Steve! So I called Eddie because- well, I don’t know. I thought maybe he could help talk some sense into you. You need to go to the hospital! Or a doctor, I don’t care but someone’s gotta take care of that.” Dustin says, pointing at the mess that is Steve’s face.

   “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine, really. See, it already stopped bleeding.”

Steve retrieves the once-white-now-red tissue to prove that the bleeding has stopped, which it has. But Eddie can see in Dustin’s eyes that the boy is still not convinced enough to let him off the hook.

   “Let me have a look?” Eddie gently takes hold of Steve’s chin to tilt his head up, feels his courage falter for a split-second when Steve’s pupils suddenly dilate and he can see by the bob of his Adam’s apple, that he has to swallow down hard.

    God, even with his face bloody and bruised Steve is fucking gorgeous. It’s really not fair, if you asked Eddie. That guy is beyond anything he could ever wish to-

    No, no. Focus, Munson.

   “Let’s see if we gotta be worried about your pretty face being blemished by a broken nose, ey?” Eddie jokes just to cover his own nervousness.

   “How would you know if it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.” Dustin protests, rightfully sceptical about Eddie’s ability to come up with a valid diagnosis.

   “Ah, see, when you’ve had your nose broken several times, you kinda know what to look for,” Eddie replies nonchalantly as he examines the swelling around Steve’s nose, ignoring the sad, kind of pitying look in Steve’s eyes at his statement.

   “I think you’re good, Harrington. Still straight and beautiful as ever. It’ll hurt for a few days but you’ll live,” Eddie says with a wink, hesitating to let go of his face even if there’s no need to hold him still anymore.

For a moment, their eyes are locked in on each other, both staring wide-eyed and kind of lost in some spellbound haze that makes it impossible for either of them to look away.

Unfortunately – or rather, lucky for him – Dustin’s voice breaks through the static crackling in Eddie’s ears and brings him back to reality.

   “I don’t know Eddie. Are you sure it’s not broken?”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve, not without an instant feeling of regret at the loss of contact, and turns to the younger boy.

   “I’m sure, Dusty. Believe me, when you’ve been beat up as often as I have, you quickly learn to know the difference between injuries that’ll hurt like a bitch but are otherwise harmless, and injuries that need medical attention.”

It does look worse than it is, thankfully. And with a bit of ice and some rest, Steve will be back on his feet in no time.

This, however, brings Eddie back to wondering what even got Steve in the state he’s currently in.

   “Wanna tell me who did this? What happened?”

Steve looks down at his hands, fumbling with an invisible thread on his neat jeans.

   “I, uh- got into a fight with some guys because they were talking shit about, uh-“

His eyes dart up to Eddie, just for the flicker of a moment, looking almost ashamed with that light blush creeping up from his cheeks to his ears, before he finds his voice again.

“About someone I care a lot about. They were being mean, called them some disgusting shit, made assumptions about them without knowing them. They-“ Steve looks at Dustin, obviously contemplating whether to say out loud what’s on his mind.

   “They said these things like, how someone should teach them a lesson. To, uh, to set them straight.”

Steve swallows thickly, and the shuddering inhale tells Eddie that he’s trying his best not to break. That whatever it is he’s trying to say really gets to him.

Eddie is confused; he has a feeling that there’s more to Steve’s words. Like, maybe he doesn’t want to alert Dustin with the harsh reality of what they really meant.

    ‘Teach them a lesson’, the words echo in Eddie’s mind, ‘Set them straight.’

And suddenly, it dawns on him.

Suddenly, he understands what Steve is trying to say.

Did they- this is about Robin, right? Steve said they were talking shit about someone he cares a lot about.

Did these fuckers, whoever they might be, threaten to harm her for being... a lesbian? Is that it? It must be, right? It’s the only thing that makes sense, would explain why he’s all choked-up about it because everyone knows how deep their friendship is. How much Steve cares for Robin.

Fucking small-minded small-town dickheads and their outdated view on how things should be. God, Eddie hates it. Hates everything about them being stuck in a town where people still have to be afraid of openly showing who they are and who they love.

It’s why he never had a relationship. Why he flees to Indy and beyond on the weekends, whenever he’s desperate enough. He’ll never find love as long as he’s stuck here – for multiple reasons.

Robin is so much braver than him. Said fuck it a few weeks ago when she finally found the courage to ask out that girl she’s had a crush on forever. It was the talk of town the next day – ‘Did you hear that? Someone saw that Buckley girl kiss another girl! Can you believe that? What a disgrace. Displaying this filthy behaviour without any shame.’

Fucking assholes.

Thankfully, like with most gossip, people eventually lost interest and moved on to whatever next thing it was they found to deflect from their own miserable lives. But the damage had already been done. Ever since, Robin has been walking around with a big, fat, neon sign on her forehead, saying ‘I’m queer and proud’ – which should be liberating, a cause for celebration, but it’s not.

Not here, anyway.

   “Eddie?”

The warmth of Steve’s palm on his arm brings him back.

   “Huh? What? What is it?”

   “You, uh... kinda zoned out there for a moment. Are you okay?”

This startles a laugh out of him. Of course, Steve would ask him if he’s okay, when he’s the one with a swollen face. Typical.

   “Yeah, sorry. It’s just- tell me who.”

   “What?”

   “Who where those guys. I’m feeling petty and I haven’t been in a fight for a while.”

Eddie wiggles his brows at Steve and grins, makes it sound like a joke. But Steve must see the rage in his eyes, must sense that he means it because there’s suddenly so much worry in his eyes, the kind of honest concern that makes Eddie’s heart melt.

   “I don’t- No, Eddie. I won’t tell you. You need to stay away from those guys! That’s what they’d want and I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

Steve seems frantic, like the mere thought of Eddie getting into a fight with them is making him panic.

But why would he-

      “They’re a bunch of assholes! And I told them, if they ever dare to lay a hand on you, they’ll wish they’d finish what they started today. I will not let some intolerant bigots hurt you!”

    Oh.

This has never been about Robin, has it?

They’ve been talking shit about Eddie.

And Steve-

   “Why would you get into a fight over me?!”

Eddie jumps off the sofa, both hands in his hair, tugging roughly at his own curls.

   “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve replies sounding perplexed. “I care about you, Eddie! And it’s not okay that these- these fuckers think that only because you’re- only because you are who you are, it’s okay to treat you like that. Doesn’t matter if it’s behind your back or to your face!”

Steve takes a deep breath trying to calm his voice.

“To say shit like they’re going to do- bad things to you? How can I stand there and listen to that and do nothing?”

This is too much for Eddie. It’s too much for so many reasons, most of which he’s not ready to explain.

The worst and most important one, though, is that Steve’s face is covered in bruises because he was protecting Eddie. Steve got into a fight because someone threatened to hurt Eddie and in return, got hurt because of him.

   “Well, look where that got you! You don’t have to always be the hero, Steve.” It’s not meant as an insult, although it must sound like one.

“I’m used to people talking shit about me. I can live with that.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.

   “What I can’t live with, is knowing that you could’ve gotten seriously injured because you were trying to defend me.”

Dustin stays uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, just alternates his gaze between Steve and Eddie, stunned into silence by whatever weird scene it is that’s unravelling before his eyes.

Eddie can’t blame him, can’t really wrap his head around any of it himself.

Why are they shouting? What are they even arguing about? And why the fuck is Steve suddenly so close? Why is he holding his hands? And why does he look at him like he-

   “Steve, I really appreciate you looking out for me, okay? But I can’t take it to see you get hurt. You’re face is too pretty to be covered in blood.”

Eddie huffs out a tentative laugh and to his relief, Steve does too, but not without rolling his eyes in fake annoyance at Eddie’s cheesy line.

   “Are you guys gonna make out now?”

They both turn around only to find Dustin standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

   “Because as much I love you, I think there are some things my innocent eyes do not have to see.”

   “Shut up you little shit!” Eddie scolds him but does so with a smile on his lips because-

Because Dustin might be onto something here. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Because Steve still hasn’t let go of his hands. And while Eddie is trying his best not to completely drown in Steve’s eyes by looking at Dustin instead, he can still feel Steve’s eyes on him.

And when he turns back, Steve has this fond, almost loving look on his face; an expression so soft not even the swollen nose or the dried blood can take away from the beauty of it.

Just for a moment, Eddie allows himself to dream. To wonder if maybe he can find love in this godforsaken town after all. Thinks, foolishly, that if Robin can have her happy ending, maybe he can, too.

   “For real, guys. The tension is killing me. Can you either speed this up or take it somewhere else because I can’t take it.”

   “Get used to it, shithead,” Steve says without looking at him, eyes still trained on Eddie.

   “Yeah, Dusty. Get used to it because I’m gonna be so annoying once your babysitter’s face is all healed up,” Eddie teasingly agrees, ignoring Dustin’s defeated sigh.

   “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” Steve asks a little breathless.

Eddie leans closer to him and whispers “Want nothing more. But I wouldn’t want our first kiss to hurt so it’s gotta wait. And you need to keep your pretty face out of trouble. Understood?”

He doesn’t know where this sudden rush of bravery is coming from but he takes it, needs it because-

   “I might be a little bit in love with you, Stevie. So I need you take better care of yourself, okay? I can’t let you get hurt.”

Somewhere in the room, Dustin is making fake gagging noises but Eddie’s focus is set on Steve who looks like he’s in trance, like he can’t believe what Eddie just told him.

   “I will, promise,” he finally says and sure, Eddie might have hoped for a little love confession in return for his own but he doesn’t need Steve to say it to know that this isn’t a one-sided crush.

And he’ll make damn sure Steve keeps his promise because he really wants that kiss as soon as possible.

[satorusugurugurl]

would you able to do smth that’s pure full angst??? like angst that doesn’t lead up to smut, love your work btw!!

Choose

Summary: Gojo is forced the choose between his two best friends, Geto or you.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru AFAB!Reader (slightly implied??)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, torture, blood, physical abuse, pain, character death

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: y’all wanted angst, I deliver 🙂‍↕️ enjoy your meal! Thanks @sugurubabe for your help!

The room was musky, thick was the humidity that had sweat heading against your forehead as you lay on the floor wheezing painfully before another blow hit your stomach hand. You curl into a fetal position, crying out in excruciating pain as boots crunched against broken glass that littered the floor. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go; it was supposed to be easy!

A curse, a grade-two curse! Something both you and Suguru should have been able to handle! But it seemed as though there was no curse, none whatsoever.

What you and Suguru found waiting for you was a curse user and an assistant supervisor who had betrayed you all. Everything had happened so fast. The woman led you down a hall, revealing this supposed curse. You were in front of Suguru, listening to details and trying to sense the nonexistent cursed energy when a heavy thud sounded from behind you.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Geto on the ground out cold. The sight left you frozen in shock as your eyes darted back to the assistant supervisor holding a plank of wood stained with a bit of blood. You tried to act fast, reaching into your uniform to throw a talisman paper at the traitor, but the world went black for you. Someone hit you from behind.

When you came to, Suguru was still out, and the hats when the curse user began his shitty interrogation. He asked over and over again where Gojo was, and every time, you had a smart-ass remark. Which ended up with you getting the shit kicked out of you.

“I’ll ask you again.” The curse user barked out, crouching down next to your face. “Where is Gojo Satoru?”

Holding onto your stomach, you smirked, slowly lifting your head to look at your captor. “Your mom’s house.” Instead of a kick, the bastard backhanded you, making you wince before you cupped the side of your face, trying to hide the pain that you felt throbbing in your cheek.

“I don't like wasting time, and I don't like little liars.”

“Yeah, and I don't like assholes who beat up a couple of teenagers!” You yelled back, ignoring the iron taste that flooded your mouth.

“This is going nowhere; I thought you said the three were inseparable.”

That was true; Before the three of you were sort of a thing, going on dates, making out, sleeping together in the same bed. And that’s how it had been true until last year after the Star Plasma Vessel was killed. Ever since that fateful day, things have changed between you, mostly Gojo, but you could tell Geto was also starting to pull away too. He wasn't sleeping well, refusing to come to your room, go on dates, and you were both getting sent on more solo missions. You were honestly surprised you and Geto had been assigned this mission together, but even the two of them were slipping apart it seemed.

You’d been excited, looking forward to working together with one of your boyfriends? (Maybe you guys weren’t official yet), and had been planning to go on a soba noodles date afterward. Things were supposed to have gone differently today. What you imagined as a pleasant time with one of your best friends had turned into a literal nightmare.

You shot a glance in Geto’s direction. He was still out cold, but from the movement behind his eyes, you were hoping he was going to come soon enough. If you worked together, you might get out of this without further injuries. Until then, you just needed to continue to buy some time, and you could accomplish that by being extra annoying. You did learn from Gojo firsthand.

“T-They are—I thought they’d be assigned this together.”

“Well, he ain't here, is he?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” you spit your blood-laced saliva on the ground, “the band split up!”

“Oh did it?” The curse user asked, cocking a brow down at you.

“Yep! So I wouldn't count on him showing up anytime soon.”

That should have been enough to deter them from following through with whatever plan they had. But your words made your captor smirk. He said nothing as he reached into his pocket, tossing your phone to the traitor, before he moved fast, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you to your feet.

“Why don't we get the band back together then?” You tried out in pain as he slammed you back down against the floor, lifting your head an inch as he crouched behind you. “Take a picture of her and Geto, and send it to Gojo along with the address.”

The flash was both blinding and suffocating as you struggled to free yourself. This wasn't good; you knew if Gojo were to see it, he'd come running. You were his best friends, and even thought he's been busy with training and all the missions he had been sent on, you knew he still cared for the two of you. And when he showed up, he would fall right into the hands of these monsters who were worse than the curses you constantly took out.

With the second flash that flooded the abandoned hospital room that was only illuminated by the light of twilight, you felt panic swell in your chest. You thrashed and screamed against the man still holding you down on the ground, watching in horror as they texted Satoru from your phone. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real; this was a terrible nightmare that was going to end soon, right?!

“There, done.”

“No!” You screamed, kicking your legs out underneath you. “No! You bastards!” Tears welled in your eyes as you focused on Suguru, grimacing near you. “Suguru! Suguru, wake up!”

“You’re too loud!” The curse-user shouted, kicking you in the stomach a second time, followed by a third, before he kicked you in the ribs.

The impact of that fourth hit had you dry-heaving and sobbing from the pain. You collapsed on the ground, vision blurring for a minute before a crashing sound from down below caught your attention. You wheezed painfully, trying to pull yourself up. You had to tell Satoru to run, that it was a trap, but you couldn't speak. Every breath you took was like stabbing to your stomach, to your lungs; everything hurt.

“Suguru?! Sweetheart?!” Satoru yelled, bounding up the stairs towards you. While you might not be able to speak, you used all of your strength to crawl, inching towards the doorway. Maybe your actions would prevent him from stepping closer. “Where are they, you bastard?”

“T-Tor—Toru—” you gasp out, crawling closer to the door to have the assistant supervisor kick you in the stomach this time. “Agghh!!” You screamed out, and you could hear the footsteps running closer to the door.

You didn’t want him to come inside, to be the reason he fell for a trap. But your prayers and wishes didn’t come true. The door flew open, and your best friend stood in the doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He met Suguru first, watching as his best friend blinked a few times as he started to regain some form of consciousness. Then, pretty cerulean eyes found you. You could see the rage burning within the irises.

“Ah, the infamous Gojo Satoru, finally we meet.” The curse user unsheathed a katana from his side, licking his lips. “. you sure do know how to piss off a lot of people. And a lot of these people want to hurt you in so many ways. I was hired to deal with that pain for them.” The Curse user said in a condescending tone. “They want you to suffer, and they want to hurt bad. So prepare yourself; it’s not going to be pretty.”

“S-Satoru—run,” you whined, trying to lift yourself.

Your friend threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don't no dumb ass hired you to ‘hurt’ me, but I’ve been living under a rock for the last year. I’m stronger than I was before, and nobody will kill me. So my friends go, and I’ll deal with you.” You couldn’t help but grin even though the pain was excruciating; leave it to Satoru to have a snarky comeback.

“Oooh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding.” You blinked, watching as the traitor bitch dragged Suguru towards you, throwing him down next to you, leaving him groaning as he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I said I would hurt you, and unlike my clients, I have to know you are untouchable. So if I’m not able to hurt you physically, I decided hurting you emotionally would be much better.”

“Huh?”

The katana slammed against the floor right between you and Suguru’s heads. “Choose.” The curse user said in a deep voice, leaving your eyes wide as you stared at your reflection in the blade.

Satoru froze up, eyes focusing on you and Suguru on the ground. “What?”

“Pick one, him or her.” You swallowed as Suguru's eyes widened in shock.

“I ain't picking one over the other!” Satoru snarled out, looking back at your captor, who was smirking.

“You aren’t going to pick?”

“Fuck no!”

The curse user hummed, twirling the katana around in a circle. The dying light menacingly reflected off the blade. You swallowed harder, looking into Suguru’s eyes as the katana twirled faster. This whole situation, everything about it, left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“Then I guess we’ll choose for you!” The curse user announced, picking the katana up out of the ground.

“You—”

“Nuh-uh!” The katana slanted into the ground, an inch away from your face, making you cry out and fear. “Come near us, use one of your special moves, and I’ll slice both their heads off right here. You might be the strongest, but I can assure you that I’m the fastest.”

Your stomach twisted in pain and fear as your breath fogged against the blade. This really couldn’t be happening right now. You choked on a sob, as the katana lifted out of the ground, allowing you to stare into Suguru's eyes. He swallowed, exhaling through his nose as he inched closer towards you. That subtle action to let you know that everything was going to be okay, that he was there by your side, only caused more tears to stream down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay,” Suguru whispered, his eyes darting towards Saroru, who was clenching and unclenching his fist in apparent concentration, his eyes roaming between the curse user, the traitor, and his two best friends. “Satoru will figure this out; we’ll be okay.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the katana slammed down again, cutting strands of Suguru’s bangs. “I don’t like repeating myself, Gojo. And I believe I ask you a question. Choose. Someone has to die today.”

Dark eyes glittered with amusement as Suguru looked up at the curse user. “You obviously don’t know my friend, he would nev—”

“Suguru.” Satoru blurted out. You slowly turned your head to look at the tufts of white hair that dropped as he clenched his fists harder.

“Satoru.” Suguru purred out, smiling. “What I can—”

“I choose to save Geto Suguru.”

Your stomach twisted in pain as you felt tears welling in your eyes as the curse user barked out a laugh, moving the katana so fast you didn't see it slicing Suguru’s bindings. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Did he re—really just pick Geto? Was he choosing to let you die?

You meant nothing to him?

Your stomach churned with nausea as the room started spinning. You felt like you couldn't breathe as Satoru refused to look at you. He did, and he picked Suguru over you.

Tears blurred your vision as you listened to Suguru cursing as he was quickly unbound. “Wow,” the man towering above you breathed out. It looks like you see where you stand.” Anger and betrayal hit you as you whirled to glare.

“Fuck you—nngh!” he kicks you in the stomach for a fifth time. And the impact made you see dark spots.

“You heard the man; it’s time to die.” he kicked you again, rolling you onto your back, where it was hard to breathe. “I hope you're watching Gojo Satoru; watch the hope and trust she had for you fade along with her life!”

The katana rose up, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead of your cries of pain, the man above you screamed. When you forced your eyes to open, you watched as one of Geto's curses shot out, swallowing the man’s upper half in one bite, before swallowing the rest of him in another. Weakly you turned your head as the traitorous bitch was wrapped up in one of Suguru’s other curses.

Your beaten and bloodied best friend was panting as Satoru stared at him in shock. As if he couldn't believe he had stepped in. But his shock quickly dissolved into realization as his head turned towards you, and he moved, running towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to lift you up. But as his hands inched towards you, you pulled away from him, tears running down your cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

“Don't touch me.” you wheezed, vision blurring as your stomach twisted in pain. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, you son of a bitch.”

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Satoru pulled his hand away as if your words badly burned him. “I-I—” You laughed out bitterly, turning your head, and it was a look Gojo would never forget.

Your eyes were dull, blurred with tears, but he could see the betrayal and hatred swirling within them even with their dull hue. You wheezed deeply, blood seeping out of the corner of your mouth as Geto rushed towards you on the phone, calling Yaga. But nothing mattered nothing but you right then and there.

“Sweetheart, I-I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I promise!”

“You chose Geto.” you spat out, a droplet of blood jotting Gojo’s infinity as you curled in on yourself. “You chose to keep him alive and let me die.”

“I wouldn't have let them!”

“Bullshit!”

The pain in your face was like a million needles to Gojo’s heart as Geto told Yaga about what had happened. “That’s enough right now, you two! Satoru, Yaga wants you to take her back to campus so Shoko can help.” Gojo could see the shame in Geto’s eyes as he hung up the phone. “Princess, Gojo’s going to teleport you to the school.”

“No,” you whispered with a shake of your head.

“Come on! I won't hurt you; let me help you!”

“Don't you fucking touch me! I'd rather die than let you touch me. And you shouldn't have an issue with that, seeing that you picked me to die.”

Satoru gritted his teeth with anger but backed off, giving Suguru a shrug as the other man sighed. “Whatever.” With a sigh of annoyance, Sugiri picked you up princess-style and started running out of the room, heading down the stairs to get you in the car while Satoru followed behind, staring at the ground in shock and disbelief.

He knew you were mad; anyone would have been angry. But he panicked; he had to make a choice; otherwise, he would have lost you both, and that was something he was never going to let happen. Maybe he yelled out Suguru’s name because he was closer to him. Or perhaps it was just out of reflex, but he meant it when he said he would save both of you. There would be no way he would let anything happen to you. Both of you were his best friends.

You were just angry now; it would take some time, and he would explain that to you when you calmed down. All you needed was a little bit of time and space. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds?

Yeah, that was it. He just needed to give you some time to process what happened and allow your wounds to heal.

“Huh?” Gojo asked as he stood in the morgue, staring at Shoko.

“I said there wasn't much we could do.”

His eyes trailed down to the body that lay on the metal slab between him and Shoko. Your face was lax, your eyes shut, and bruises were discoloring your pretty face. This was a joke; it was all a fucked up joke for what he had said, right? You were going to sit up and say ‘jokes on you’ or ‘I got you bitch’ right? But your skin was too ashen, your pulse wasn't racing in your throat, and he couldn't sense your cursed energy with his Six-Eyes.

You were gone.

“B-But I don't understand. W-What happened, she was—she was fine.”

“On the outside, maybe.” Shoko lit a cigarette, holding it between her teeth as she moved some of your hair from your face. “But she took several kicks to the stomach, it looked like, and the sheer force formed an abdominal hematoma that ruptured with that last kick. If she got here a bit sooner, then maybe, just maybe, we could have saved her.” Shoko frowned, pulling the white sheet back up to cover your face. “But there wasn't anything we could do.”

Satoru's hands started shaking as he smelt earthy musk and mint approaching his side. He swallowed hard, turning to find Suguru staring down at your body, an almost unreadable expression on his face. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? One where they both lost their best friend?

“She stayed true to her word,” Suguru whispered as he turned, his white button-down shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I’m going on a mission to the countryside and won't return for a while.”

Satoru turned, glaring as Suguru opened the door to the hall. “What the hell do you mean she stayed true to her word?!” Suguru paused before looking back at Gojo with dull, lifeless eyes that almost mirrored yours the last time you had looked at him. It was so eerily similar that Gojo took a step back.

“She would have rather died than have you touch her.” His eyes focused on your body before he met Satoru's teary eyes. “And she did just that, all because of your choice.”

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Gojo standing in the morgue with the body of one of his best friends while his other went off on a mission alone. A mission that would lead to him massacring an entire village. Little did Gojo know his choice would cost him the lives of both his best friends.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[amsznn]

can you do a story about how chris and the reader meet at tara’s party but before that, reader accidentally revealed that she found chris cute and the she went viral for it (idk if that makes sense)

SOCIAL MEDIA FRENZY - c. sturniolo

2 days ago..

“chat are we enjoying this haul? don’t flame my style in the comment section.” you warned to your viewers on instagram live before grabbing the next package of clothes off the floor, ready to show your 14k viewers the next batch of items. “next youtube video when?” you read off from a comment.

“this was going to be a youtube haul, but i got lazy so..new video this week!”

your rise as an influencer had to be studied. from a random youtube vlog that you made out of the want to romanticize your life a bit and a rant on tiktok people found funny that gained 2.5 million likes caused you to not only receive near to 3 million subscribers on youtube but almost 1.9 million on tiktok.

this was only in the span of 2 years. growing and working to not only please your new fans but to also have fun for yourself as you still decided to go to college for that degree.

social media was just a hobby for you like a lot of people say. but you truly couldn’t expect the new wave of attention you would revolve for a simple comment you made.

the next item of your haul was a fitted cap that you saw at a pop up shop in your city. you recognized it from somewhere else and decided to buy it since it was also cute.

“guys this cap i actually bought because this youtuber, chris sturniolo also wears it in his videos.” at the mention of the social media star your comments flooded. “guys calm down, im not crazy, he’s just cute okay?” you laughed before setting the cap down then moving to the next piece of clothing.

soon enough you ended the live and went on with your day as normal. filming a bit of your vlog for your new video, answering emails from brands, doing some household chores and of course, settling down in your bed with some snacks for your nightly tiktok scrolling.

as soon as you opened the app you got bombarded with a screen recording of your live with the bit where you said chris was cute. it was all over. even on twitter you began trending for the potential new relationship between you and the social media star.

all you could do is read the comments, some encouraging and some hateful, watch edits of you two being shipped, and quickly text your manager profusely apologizing for the mess you just made.

you groaned while rolling around in your bed. sometimes you just forgot you were too well known to be spewing whatever nonsense came to mind.

which brings us here.

at taras party.

since she was inviting influential people, and her friends, you were a definite invite on her list. and you knew either all of one of the triplets would be there too.

you were nervous to bump into chris. would he even speak to you? and if he did would he be uncomfortable or understanding? well you were about to find out in a moment since he was walking in your general direction.

you mustered up all the courage you could and began to walk towards him. feeling the need to apologize to him since the situation was your fault and it must be annoying for him as well.

you came to a stop as he turned his body to fully face you. your breath hitched for moment taking his appearance all in. his black hoodie and black baggie jeans with his messy hair was a lot to take in in person.

either way you were gonna say what you needed to say. “hey, my names y/n. you might know me. or not thats fine too!” you stumble across your words for a minute before taking a deep breath. you could feel his eyes on you but you remembered hes just a person too.

“you may have seen the plenty of edits and a lot of my supporters in your comment sections or dms, and i just wanted to say im sorry since its been going for three days now and you must be annoyed.” you said it all in one breath and finally met the boys eyes. instead of confusion you were met with a look of amusement.

“oh you’re completely fine. honestly i felt bad for you since you were getting a lot of hate for a simple comment.” chris shrugged while giving you his signature smile. you smiled as well glad that he seemed fine with the recent uproar.

“ive heard worse.” chris said while grimacing at the thought which caused you to laugh nodding in agreement. the night went on with you and chris sticking together for the majority of the party. introducing one another to friends, chris introducing you to nick (your new best friend) and overall having a great time. before you left chris made sure to get your number and texted you to make sure you arrived home safely.

you couldnt help the smile that was spreading on your face as you recall the events of the night. maybe making that comment wasnt so bad after all.

walking towards your room of your apartment, you plopped down onto your bed and decided to make a quick instagram post for the night.

and guess who liked the post?

a/n: i hope yall enjoy this cus i sure did (i was so close to making this into a smut 😭)

[no-144444]

catch-up- l.norris (no.4)

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summary: lando after Monza.

pairing: land norris x fem! reader.

warnings: talk of workplace harassment

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Lando walked into your apartment with a sour expression on his face. You’d been waiting for him all night. P1 to P3, not exactly a good result. 

“Hey darling,” you sighed, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He didn’t hug you back. You tried to press a kiss to his cheek, but he shrugged you off and moved further into the apartment and left you in the living room as he went to your bedroom. 

Your day hadn’t been great either, if he’d cared to ask, but you didn’t really think faulting him right now was a smart idea. Emotions were high, you’d seen the interviews, you’d seen his face on the podium, and you’d seen him. It still stung.

You followed after him and leant against the doorframe, watching him take off his clothes to be left in his boxers. He didn’t look in your direction once. He lay down in the bed, his back to you, and that was that. 

Shit. 

“Great discussion,” you mumbled under your breath, and closed the door. Imola to Monaco was only a 3 hour flight and he’d left Imola at about 10pm. It was only about 2am now, and you had work in the morning. Work that you didn’t want to go to. The new co-worker you were teaching was probably the creepiest guy you could ever imagine, and he decided that you were his to touch all day on Friday. Disgusting. 

You saw the door open as you settled on the couch, just hoping to drown out the worried and upset thoughts that ran through your head. You were worried about Lando, worried about the Driver’s Championship, worried about Oscar, worried about Lando and Oscar’s relationship, worried about Lando’s confidence, worried about going to work, trying to think about a strategic outfit, worried about the other girls in the office, worried about-

“Hi,” his soft voice invaded your senses, and you turned to face him. There he was, beside you, his hand in yours. 

“Hi,” you answered, your voice hoarse and tired. “I’m sorry about today.”

He nodded. “It’s my fault,” he shrugged. “Oscar made the pass, and I was allowed to race him-”

“Lando, you’re not seriously blaming yourself for today, are you?” You asked. He didn’t answer, just staring down at where your hands connected. “It would’ve been a 1-2 finish if Stella and the team didn’t take a page out of the Ferrari handbook of how to fuck shit up. Papaya rules can fuck off, and so can Zak Brown. You deserved that 1-2. Both of you do. P3 is still good, but I know it’s not enough for you. But Lan, think about where you were last year, or the year before. The progress you’ve made this year alone? Unimaginable. Don’t get tunnel-visioned into hating yourself because of one bad race result when you know how talented and skilled you are, and how you won against Max with a fucking 22 second gap. Monza wasn’t your weekend, but next weekend will be and that’s what matters. Also, P3, standing on the podium being a bad result? I’d say you’re doing pretty well then.”

He smiled softly as you reminded him of who he was, but also how important you are to him. Speeches like that from you made him feel a thousand times better than any consolation pity pep-talk he could’ve gotten from someone in the team. “Thank you,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Please come to bed.”

You chuckled softly. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping much tonight.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just… head busy,” you shrugged. “But I’ll come in if you want me to.” 

He pressed his lips to your neck in a soft kiss. “I always want you near me.”

You chuckled. “Ok Romeo,” you scoffed, getting up. 

“How was work this week?” he asked, following you into your bedroom. 

“Shit,” you sighed, lying down. “But probably better than yours.”

“What happened?”

“It’s fine Lan,” you brushed it off. “You’re tired.”

“Not enough to not hear what you have to say,” he sat up, waiting for you to speak. 

You sighed and turned to him, resting your head in his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair. “I was training this new guy at work and he decided to make it his personal mission to make me as uncomfortable as possible. He just kept touching me, and not seeing how it was inappropriate. Now I have to think about what I wear even more, and tell the rest of the girls at the office, and-”

“Baby, you shouldn't be dealing with that,” he sighed. You could tell he was angry. “You need to tell HR.”

“That’s the worst part, he’s the HR guy,” you groaned. “Anyways, I just want to sleep, and I know you do too.”

He nodded, lying beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Please don’t come to my place of work and threaten this guy Lan.”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t going to threaten him, I was going to get Max to do it.”

You chuckled. “You’re a child.”

“I’m a problem solver,” he shrugged. “Ok, but he needs to be fired. I can come in and I’ll pretend like he’s insulted me massively as a customer, boom, he’s gone.”

“Ok Superman, whatever you say,” you giggled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[inkedells]

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

-

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.���

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

-

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

-

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

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