#but it was kinda scratchy but it’s fine

[ghosthart]

u know when u mention u like something one time and a family member starts gifting u things that are only that item or themed like that thing. my grandma saw that i had a fluffy white pillow like the kind with the like fake fur that looks like those crusty white dog’s fur or something lol and now she thinks i actually like that cuz she gave me a vanity stool with that material and i was just happy cuz i didn’t have a chair for my vanity at the time but she just gave me another stool almost identical with that material and ANOTHER ONE that’s pink and rectangle like i don’t even actually like that material at all i just had that pillow cuz it came with my comforter set that my mom got me and i kept it to use as a decorative pillow for my couch since i was too poor to buy one that i actually like LOL i don’t even have the pillow anymore 😭

[jorvikzelda]

I finished the stripe B)

[retiredcultistredux]

OH! Ptsst!! Hyness! Do you think the core may be reacting to your emotional state? The glow seemed to recede when you calmed down and started glowing again when you were startled!

Ester: "Now that's interesting..."

Hyness: "Y-You...weren't supposed to h-hear that..."

Ester: "Well too bad!! ...Hehe, I just got a funny idea..."

Uh oh.

[how-gross]

I lost my left airpod in gonna explode

[sylcries]

If I’m one of the face-less

To hell with other words, if I am something of purpose

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

.

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[wifeyoozi]

Kim Mingyu : Best Friend Rule 57

w.c : 1.6 k ┊ synopsis : the 57th rule of the bestfriend rule book states, "thou must giveth a head to thy bestie in the time of need." ┊ content warning : smut ,, best friends to ...?? ,, blowjobs ,, gn!reader ,, coming down the throat

a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read. This is just me being horny af for mingyu recently.

This is fine, Mingyu thinks. He has shared rooms before. He has shared rooms with you before as well – with his best friend and, for a long while now, his crush. He could do this. He forces his focus on the sappy rom-com movie playing on the cable TV in the hotel room from the fact that you are pressed closed against him on the hotel bed, sharing packet popcorn with him. You are mostly eating it, he's barely even watching the movie.

Some time ago after you settled on the bed beside him, you'd huddled over to him, “Gyu, scoot over. The TV is kinda weird, I can't see properly unless I'm looking right from the centre,” You said as you snuggled against him.

Snuggled against him, until you were pressing your bare thighs to his clothed ones and your arms pressed up till there was a thin sweaty layer in between, your head resting on his shoulder.

He tried to change his position a little, gripping on the comforter tighter around his waist, just hoping you wouldn't notice his, well, little developing problem in his sweatpants.

The movie ended too soon after that and you sighed, “fun movie to waste a Saturday on, no?”

Mingyu hums, about to suggest another movie, because he's a sucker in love who'd spend two more hours suffering in silence in his pants to spend some quality time with his crush.

Instead, you opened your phone screen, reading a text, “uh, the team is doing a campfire night, you wanna join? They brought beer and all.”

“Uhm, no I'll pass tonight. A little tired,” Mingyu said with a smile as you stood up and yawned, stretching your limbs a little. The last thing he wants is to take his little problem outside this room to the rest of the coed basketball team. He'd never heard the end of it from soonyoung, and the thought alone makes him wanna die already.

He watched as you stretched your arms, your shirt sticking tight to your chest, your nipples pebbled under prominently visible. He has never looked away faster. Were you not wearing anything under that flimsy shirt? Were you planning to go to the rest of the team like that? The thought simultaneously made mingyu jealous and turned on and he tried not to let either show up on his face.

“Alright, suit yourself! Don't miss me too much,” you said, winking playfully as you walked outside the room, closing the door behind you.

Mingyu let out a big breath he didn't know he had been holding. He shakes his head before getting up and leaving to the bathroom briefly to get the box of tissues papers. He didn't have lube – of course he wouldn't bring one to his college’s basketball team picnic – so his spit would have to do.

He sighed, taking his aching dick out finally. It's not his ideal style. The bedsheet is scratchy and cold and the headboard hits his head at an awkward angle, but he shifts himself till he's fairy comfortable.

He pulls his shirt to his armpits, fingers of his one hand brushing over his nipple as he spits over his other hand and takes his dick. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, trying to bring his dick to a full erection. He glanced over to where you say beside him, impulsively grabbing your pillow and putting it against his face. Just as he imagined, your perfume lingered on the fabric of it.

He wasn't in a hurry, he knew you would take time if you were going to drink with the boys. He had plenty time.

He thought of you as he stroked himself sensually, occasionally reaching up and flicking and pinching his nipples. He feels intoxicated by your scent in him. He tugs off his boxers till it's pooled around his ankles. He slowly increases his speed, his thumb pressing over the tip where the precum leaked.

He was getting closer to his releasing, your name softly leaving his lips in whimpering whispers.

He heard the door open. Shit.

He has the exact time to either pull down his shirt or pull up his pants before you'd be face to face with him.

Not being able to think properly with his fogged mind, he chose to pull down his shirt instead, leaving his fisted cock out in the open for you to see when you entered.

Your eyes widened, a brown bag in your hand, “i, uhm, thought that, uhm, I'd get us some take out.”

You're flustered, but not as much as him. He is completely frozen, his hand doing little to hide anything about the size or hardness of his cock.

“I-i uhm,”

“That's okay!” You rushed in to say, “I, uhm, I'm your age too! People have, err, urges! That's completely normal, y’know.”

Mingyu is strongly aware of your gaze over his penis as you keep the bag of take out on the floor and climb on the bed beside him. He retreats back of shyness, bringing his knees closer to conceal himself a little.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, “uhm, y/n-”

“Shit, you're, like, so big, mingyu,” you chuckle breathily, pushing his knee away. Mingyu would almost think that it was yet one of his sick fantasies, except it wasn't. Mingyu was aware and proud of his well endowed body, but he never knew the things it would do to him hearing it from you. Suddenly mingyu didn't know what words were.

“Should I help you?” you ask him as if you were offering coffee, “friends help each other, right?”

Friends help each other. Friends help each other with a fucking erections.

“Y/n,” mingyu shudders as your finger gently hovers over his red angry tip. He'd meant to say, don't say stuff you don't mean or will regret later. Instead, the words that slip his tongue are, “don't tease.”

You chuckle slightly, “okay, gyu, I won't,” taking a firm grip of his cock above his own fist. A breathy moan leaves his lips. You meet his eyes once, staring deep before looking back at his dick, “gyu, do you think I can fit your dick in my mouth?”

And that is how kim mingyu (born 1997, sex male) died at the tender age of 21. The team would have to carry his body tomorrow. His tomb stone would say, died of blowjob offers. Mingyu thinks – nevermind, Mingyu can't think anymore. His brain is fogged up with the thought of your pretty pink lips around his cock. Fuck.

“You can try,” he mutters softly. He takes his hand off his dick, allowing you full access. You pushed your hair back and wrapped your soft lips around his head. No foreplay, no kitten licks, no jerking him off. You took him in his mouth directly, pushing your head down till you felt his dick filling up your mouth.

You sucked on the length in your mouth, wrapping your hand the remainder of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Mingyu groaned, his hands grippinng the sheets tightly. Your mouth was hot and warm and wet. So fucking wet. Your technique is a bit sloppy, but mingyu loves it nonetheless. He'd love anything with you and his dick in a single picture.

You take out his dick from your mouth, looking up at him with red lips and flushed face. Fuck, are you pretty.

“Shit, I didn't know it was this hard,” you say, chuckling, “sucking a dick, I mean. You are as hard as it can be.”

“You've… never given a blowjob before?”

“No, why would I?” It was a dumb question on his end, dumber on yours. Neither of you was thinking straight about it though, so it's fine.

“friends can help each other,” he thoughtlessly echoed your words.

“Well, not any friend,” you chuckled. “You're my best friend, gyu!”

Mingyu momentarily wondered if you were even hearing yourself. It felt like a unspoken bestie rule mingyu was unaware about till now, that you must give your best friend a head in time of need. Because you seemed so serious like this was a normal best-friends activity to do, casually sucking their dick.

“Can you shift here? The angle is awkward like this, I think I can take it better if I kneel in front of you,” you tell him, motioning towards the end of the bed. He nods without even bothering to think, shifting at the edge of the bed till his legs hungoff the bed. You shifted on the floor, in between his legs. You looked up at him, taking his leaking erection in your hand and placing it in your mouth.

You forced your gag reflexes to relax and took him as deep in your throat as you could, till your nose was buried in his pubic hair. You sucked him off genuinely, eyes staring deep into his the whole time. He held your hair back, guiding your head to bob up and down on him. He threw his head back, moaning shamelessly despite being aware of the cheap hotel walls as he recieved what felt like one of the best blowjobs he's ever had.

It didn't take long for him to cum spilling down your throat.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” he took out his dick as you choked on his cum, the remainder of it spurting on your lips and cheeks. You coughed a little but swallowed his cum. Mingyu looked at you with wide eyes, realising what you did.

You grab a tissue paper from the bedside table and wipe your mouth. You flash him a smile, “I'll take a quick shower and then we could continue watching another movies while eating the take outs. Why don't you pick this time?”

“Aren't you going for the drinks by the bonfire with the rest of the team?” Mingyu asks dumbly.

“Nahh, I'll pass. Soonyoung and Chan always end up getting super drunk, causing a mess,” you say, getting up to head to the shower.

If Mingyu saw a super wet spot in your shorts and that made his dick twitch, it's nobody's business.

Though he would be down to give you a head if you needed it after your shower. Isn't that what the besties do after all!

[stevieschrodinger]

So what if like the thing that makes Alpha and Omega pairs, true mates or whatever, is like a detectable thing that they can test for. And like, everyone has their little blood test at birth and then on say, their 18th birthday, the Alpha gets informed as to who their omega is.

Obviously it's a bit of a sexist deal and lots of Omega and their supporters are trying to get it changed so that both parties are informed, to make it fair, and that is getting some traction but right now, the Alpha gets told and the Omega has to wait for them to show up.

Except when Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington.

Eddie burns the envelope.

And yeah, he can't help but watch Steve a little more now that he like, Knows, but he does his best to put it behind him.

And Steve gets into a fight with Nancy wheelers new Omega, when Nancy gets her envelope, and it's not Steve's name inside and it looks like Jonathan came out on top and Steve...well, he looks beaten and sad and that nearly makes Eddie cave but...no. no.

Right up until he has Steve under his hands, pinned to a boathouse wall with a bottle to his throat and Eddie's been thinking of Steve has his Omega for so long it just kind of slips out. Eddie whispers it, 'Omega' and the bottle drops to the floor and shatters more.

And Eddie has to watch it play out from close range on Steve's face, dawning realisation. Deep hurt. And then anger. An angry shield that comes down as he pushes Eddie off.

"Dustin explain to Munson what's up, I'll be outside a minute.". And Steve just stomps out and there's fuck all Eddie can do about it.

And then he kinda gets distracted by hell dimension stuff. For a bit. And Steve's clearly fucking angry with him and Eddie, well, what the fuck is Steve expecting Eddie to do, right? Steve would never have wanted him in the first place. So Eddie is fucking angry. And it comes out spiteful, calling Steve 'big boy' like he knows it'll rile Steve up. Throwing his jacket at Steve so he will cover up, because he can't bare to look at all the skin Steve is showing, especially with fucking Wheeler hanging around. And if it got something of Eddie's on Steve, well then, it doesn't fucking matter does it? Doesn't mean anything.

And it's not until it's all done, and Eddie wakes up fucking high as a kite on pain meds, with non other than Harrington sitting by his bedside that it all slips out, "what are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, won't look at him, "waiting to see if my Alpha dies, I guess."

And he just sounds so...bereft. so broken.

"Steve, I just...look-"

"Doesn't matter. You've made it clear. It's fine. And you're going to live I guess so I'll just-" and he's standing, turning to leave.

And Eddie knows Steve now. Sees him with the sheep. Knows he isn't a bitch. Knows he's just...a good guy. Knows he isn't any of the things Eddie thought he was.

"You grew up in a fucking castle." Steve pauses, sitting back in the chair to frown at Eddie.

"What has that go to do with-"

Eddie clears his throat, it's dry and scratchy and hurts but he has to do this. "You grew up in a castle. Nice car. Both parents. Preppy clothes, fucking, shitty fucking jock friends. Steve, you would have rejected me in a heartbeat. I live in a fucking trailer and sling drugs on the side I'm not- I couldn't do that to you."

And Steve just, he just starts crying. He nods, wipes his eyes, "I might have," he admits finally, "I don't know what I would have said...but I needed you. Since then I needed you so much and," he sniffles, wipes his pink nose .

"And I didn't know. I couldn't have and I am so sorry but could we just, now, can we just-" and it hurts like fuck but Eddie bites it down because Steve is half clambered into the bed next to him and yeah. Yeah, that's perfect.

[pretty-toru]

lovesick┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.4k

୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.

Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.

How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.

But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.

No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.

"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.

"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.

"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.

"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"

"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.

"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"

"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."

"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."

"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.

"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.

"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."

When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."

With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."

Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.

"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."

"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."

Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.

"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"

Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."

"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."

[omi-boshi]

period cramps and a little bit of pining

your best friend omi comes over to take care of you during your period

tags: no plot just gratuitous fluff and yearning word count: 2.2k

through the haziness that comes from just waking up, you hear the muffled sound of knocking, followed by the click of the door unlocking. you poke your head out from under the covers, curious. the sound of footsteps and rustling just outside your bedroom door fill the space and truthfully, you should be more worried that a stranger has seemingly broken into your apartment. however, the lack of angry growling from your sweet great pyrenees and screams of bloody murder from the stranger soothe the concern that tries its damnest to rise above your grogginess. you stay quiet, curled up on your side, head still peeking out. the continuing muffled sounds almost lulling you to sleep, your eyes falling close. that's how kiyoomi finds you.

he pushes the bedroom door open. quietly, he pads over to the bed and crouches just beside where he can see your face. the concerned furrow between his brows softens slightly as he takes in your sleepy form. he debates waking you up, not wanting to disturb the sleep you're finally getting after a night dealing with cramps of the worst kind. he wishes nothing more than to indulge you as he always does but as your closest friend, he knows you have yet to get up and eat. and that takes priority. cautiously, he runs his fingers through your hair and down your cheek which you turn into, seeking the warmth radiating from his skin. the subconscious action disarms kiyoomi. he has to fight through the thumping in his heart to call your name until you finally start waking up. he watches as you rouse from your sleep, grumbling through the whole motion. it tugs a small smile up his lips. your eyes flutter open and the seconds that follow are punctuated by the stillness of the air as you stare up at him, slowly processing his presence. your eyes travel up his figure. the mask dangling from his right ear. the hoodie he wears — the one you usually steal from him. the fuzzy socks you got him for Christmas. the worn sweatpants you've told him many times to replace and yet he never does because it looks fine, you remember him arguing at some point. the memory of it makes you smile. your gaze trails to the soft curve of his lips, the moles partially covered by his damp messy hair — he must have showered before he came from practice — before finally landing on his eyes that quietly watch you. "hi," you finally whisper in what feels like eons. voice scratchy from disuse. "hey, sleepy head," he says just as softly, mirth coloring his tone. "what are you doing here?" "you texted me last night. did you forget?" you hum in confusion, sitting up slowly and pulling your arm from under the covers to look for your phone.

to omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:43 PM

omiii com e over tmrw :((( - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

You okay? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

I have practice in the morning but I can come over after. Is that alright?

- to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

that work s yes!!! and im okya, just kinda in pain and loopy from the meds and sticky ;-; - to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

everything hurts n i cant sleep on my back but it's ok see u tmrw! - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

It's that time, huh? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

Get some rest. I'll be there as soon as I can.

"oh," you mumble, as you scroll through your messages. "i thought I was dreaming." you put your phone down to look kiyoomi in the eyes, a tilt to your head. "i'm glad you actually came though." kiyoomi breathes in deeply, heart thumping so loud — at this point he's sure you can hear it. but of course, you are none the wiser as you continue peering down at him, sleepy smile on your face.

"of course, i would." he returns the smile. “anyway, i didn’t know what you wanted since you didn’t reply to me all morning.” he pulls out a paper bag that was sitting behind him. “so, i just got a bit of everything.” in your curiosity, you sit up straighter to look at the bag kiyoomi has brought. he starts pulling out its contents and showing them off to you with a dorky grin that grows the more items he shows you. there were donuts, churros, chocolates, cookies, mochi, bread of all variations, and a singular bottle of the tea drink you've been raving to him about the past month. "kiyoomi!" you yell, doubling over in laughter. "i can't eat all of this!" "well, good thing there's two of us," he rolls his eyes, grin still on his face. "in my defense, i didn't know what to get." which is a lie. sort of. because everything he got were things you mentioned craving the days leading up to this week. not that you needed to know that of course. "you'd ruin your diet for me, omi?" you pout, eye glimmering in amusement. "that's so sweet! come here!" you reach out to pinch his cheeks, cooing how your omi is the sweetest and kindest person there is and that people would know that more if you stop looking so grumpy, you idiot.he feels his ears flush and he pushes you — nudges, really — to the side, grumbling something about ungrateful spoiled brats. but he can't bring himself to actually chide you for it, not when you're high in spirits right now and he knows how the littlest things could set you off. he wants you happy for as long as your period lets you which isn't long; fickle as your moods are at these times. "alright, alright." he chuckles. "go freshen up and let's get some real food in you first before we eat the sweets," he stands up from his kneeling position on the floor, hand on your arm to pull you up, grunting as he does so. you groan as if remembering why he was here in the first place. you flop helplessly on the bed, boneless, unwilling to leave the inviting warmth of the blankets. "nooo," you whine, purposely obnoxious just to irk him enough to let you go. "i know what you're doing." he tugs again. "it's not gonna work." it's a losing battle, one that you fought valiantly 'til the end. your whining doesn't work and only ends with you thrown over his shoulder. you yelp, thumping his back with your fists in protest as he makes his way through the living room where your dog sees you both and follows you to the bathroom.

kiyoomi gently puts you down, righting your crumpled shirt. he chuckles at the look you send him. to him, you look about as threatening as a baby chick but he rightfully stays quiet. not taking any chances with your knees so close to his crotch. "there are some pads in the cabinet that i bought," he pauses to fix your hair that got messy from being upside down. "it's the kind you always have." you grumble out a thanks, still a bit peeved from being carried out of bed. kiyoomi was right, of course — you do need to freshen up — but you can still give him trouble for it. you're bleeding out and you feel all weird, sue you, right? "while you're here, i'll go heat up the food i got you — it's korean, by the way — and feed snowball too then we can do whatever you want after. sound good?" kiyoomi tilts his head towards you to see your face.

you don't answer immediately, still stubbornly holding on to the frustration of being forcefully pulled out of bed. but just like most things are with kiyoomi, it's a losing battle. again.

it doesn't take you long before you drop the pretenses and meet his gaze. what you see makes the fight in you leave all in one go. his gaze is warm with mirth and... something else. you don't know what it is but it makes you feel shy being at the receiving end of it. you are suddenly conscious of how sloppy you must look right now even though you know kiyoomi would not mind. in your rising embarrassment, you usher kiyoomi out of the bathroom, eyes not meeting his. snowball, who's just so happy to be there, follows kiyoomi out the door. a muffled boof! sounding through the door once you get it shut. you get your wits together and freshen up, taking extra time to deal with the flush on your cheeks that just won't disappear. kiyoomi is taking out the last of the food from the microwave as you come out of the bathroom, livelier now that you've washed your face. he greets you with a smile and calls you to the dining table. lunch is far calmer, a nice change of pace after the hectic ordeal of getting you out of bed. the strange shyness from earlier is forgotten temporarily as you both talk about nothing and everything; how volleyball practice went, how his courses are going, about the new show you wanted to watch with him. once you start feeling the cramps come up again, kiyoomi catches the change in your expression and decides it's time to go back to bed. he hands you the pill you take to treat the cramps and a glass of water. you give him a grateful smile and he ruffles your hair in return.

"go back to bed. i'll be there in a sec," he says, no room for argument. you feel a bit guilty not helping with the cleanup and you tell him as much. he only snorts and tells you it's fine and that it's what i'm here for.

it doesn't do much to abate your guilt but with the cramps only getting worse, there's not much of a choice to be made.

when kiyoomi comes back, he sees you curled up under the covers, eyes shut in pain. he grabs the rechargeable heating pad from across the room and nudges your hand with it. it's only then that you open your eyes.

"hi," you mutter, attempting to smile. "the medicine hasn't kicked in yet." you grab the offered heating pad. "hey, guess we're not watching that show then?" kiyoomi murmurs, knowing full well that you would want to sleep the ache away. you give him an apologetic smile which he only waves off. "i really wanted to watch it too," you mourn. "it's fine. we can watch it another time." he smiles kindly. the silence that follows is somewhat cautious, neither one sure where to go from here. usually, you would have invited kiyoomi into bed by now and he would groan his protest before reluctantly joining you, all the while you would be teasing him about it. but the shyness from before overtakes you and kiyoomi is unusually hesitant as well, eyes darting and feet shuffling in place.

he is the first to break the silence. "i'll head to the living room so you can sleep, okay?" he begins turning away from you. at his words, you hastily sit up. "omi," you call out. he looks to you, head tilted to let you know he's listening. you can barely hold eye contact as the next words stumble through your lips. "um, the-the heating pad falls off when i sleep on my side and, and you know how i can't sleep on my back because the bleeding would leak," you look away from his gaze. "do you... do you mind helping me?"

kiyoomi turns around, regarding you curiously. "and what do you want me to do?" knowing that words will fail you, you silently flip the covers and pat the space beside you. kiyoomi exhales and cautiously takes his spot on the bed, as if this is the first time he's done this. it makes you snort; your shyness and his hesitance, it's ridiculous. and yet you're unable to soothe your increasing heartbeat.

"and then?" kiyoomi asks, quietly.

shaking off the anxiety that's starting to take hold of you, you nudge his shoulder, urging him to lie down beside you. you turn your back towards him, reaching for his hand and slowly guiding it down to lay flat on the heating pad pressing to your lower abdomen. you swear you hear the sharp intake of breath over your shoulder; whether from the temperature of the heating pad or the action itself, you don't know.

kiyoomi is quick on the uptake and lays his palm fully on the pad. it takes you by surprise when he pulls you towards his chest that you can't help the little gasp you let out. "like this?" he asks, almost teasingly. the hesitance from before melting away from his tone. unfortunately for you, it does menacing things to your heart.

with your heart seizing in your chest, you hum your affirmative and relax in his hold. kiyoomi pulls up the covers on both of you and adjusts so that your head rests on his other arm. with the soft thump-thump of his heartbeat combined with the warmth from the heating pad and his body, you are slowly lulled to sleep. "we should talk about this, you know?" you hear just as you are on the brink of sleep and you only hum in response. you hear him chuckle, or rather feel the vibrations of it. And then lastly, a kiss to your hair. "another time then."

what comes after will be dealt with another time. for now, you will enjoy each other's warmth.

i wrote this on a whim because im currently bleeding out and everything hurts so bad and i wish i had an omi to take care of me ;;;;; I've got a more planned out fic that i can't wait to get out there i swear ;;;; pls take this crappy peace offering for now

[stubz]

"Human Max?"

"Mmyesh?"

"Why'd you ruffle my feathers?"

"Oh, I used to do that to your sister when she came here. I won't do it anymore if you don't like it though."

"No. I liked it. It was kinda like when Mom and Dad clean my feathers. Tickly and scratchy."

"Well that's good."

"...Human Max?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you ruffle Salia's feathers?"

"Hmmmm, Iiiiiii don't know. I just did it without thinking."

"Why?"

"Maybe because my family did that to me when I was a kid and so I wanted to continue that with you kids."

"Why?"

"Why I wanted to continue it or why my family did that to me?"

"Both!"

"Emira why do you do this to me. Oookay! Lemme think for a sec" they said while thinking of an answer to hopefully prevent the why apocalypse.

"Uhhh-I think it's because humans just like physical touch from people we like, love and care about...Yeah! In fact, if we don't get enough we get touch-starved."

"This sounds like a trick."

"Would I ever trick you?"

"Yes, you said that humans will die from loudness to keep us from screaming too much."

"...you got me there but I promise you I am not lying."

"...you really get 'starved' if you don't get touched enough?"

"Erm, by 'touched' I mean hugged, high-fived, hand-holding, head pats, stuff like that. Not something that sounds like the start of a dirty joke..."

Few days later~~~

"Max! Get in here! Now!

"What?! Did someone get hurt?! Did Qiqi eat glue again???"

"Look."

Max finally came around the corner and saw the other human trapped in the most adorable way ever imaginable. Younglings hugged and clung to Kim like they were a lifesaver in a terrible storm. Legs were trapped and sat on, weighted to the ground by children. Waist and torso were covered by living backpacks/frontpacks. Arms shaking while trying to hold the younglings in their arms while steadying the ones clambering on their shoulders.

"Help. Me."

"Let me get my phone I need this as my new wallpaper."

"Max! I'm seriously about to crush like 10 kids with my fat arse if I don't stand properly in the next 10 seconds."

"Got it, can't have you manslaughter children. Hug time's over kids, off of Kim."

"But Maxie if we do then Kim will die!"

"Marl for the 5th time I'm not dying."

"But your starving!"

"Sweetheart please, I am most defiantly not starving."

"Emira said so tho!"

"Yeah! You were stuck in your room for days with no one to hug you! And Max told me that if humans don't get enough hugs or pats you'll starve!!" her beak quivered, eyes starting to get glassy.

"Oooh, Emira, kids, Kim is fine. Yes no one was there to give Kim hugs but she's fine. For a human to starve for hugs will take some time, and Kim wasn't gone for that long."

"Really?"

"Really, besides I was there to give her soup and high-fives so she wouldn't get lonely."

"...can we still hug you for a bit longer?"

"Of course, but let me sit down so I don't fall down."

The younglings clamber of her and allow the human to sit and then climb back ontop her. Noting how not everyone got to hug Kim, Max came in and together the humans were trapped by a mesh of children clinging tightly to their favorite humans.

"Max."

"Yeah Kim."

"As punishment for what happened your buying lunch...and carrying me to lunch cause my legs are in a coma right now."

"Fair enough."

[ilypaigebuckets]

can u write a paige bueckers x reader where reader is a cheerleader and gets into a fight with another cheerleader and paige goes to separate them and calm reader down also could u give reader a name

yes! this is such a good idea :) i think i’ll be able to write this pretty well bc i do cheer and dance! for the name ill just do mine bc im not creative😛 this came out kinda bad im not really proud of it im so sorry! i hope you like it anyways if not i can always rewrite it!!

Bring it On - Paige Bueckers x Reader

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: kenzie’s a cheerleader at uconn, and also paige’s gf!

“Let’s go, P!” Screamed Mackenzie as her cheered from the sidelines for her superstar girlfriend, Paige Bueckers. The two had been in a committed relationship for another 8 months now and were very much in love. They were public with their relationship, and the media seemed to eat it up. Paige dribbled the ball behind herself and shot the ball from where she was standing.

“And Bueckers shoots a three!” The sports broadcaster narrating the game exclaimed. Kenzie waved her poms high in the air. She loved hyping up the crowd and cheering for all the girls at Uconn, but of course she cheered just a little harder for her superstar girlfriend. The other team’s cheerleaders did not have the same enthusiasm for their team. Of course, there wasn’t much to cheer for; Uconn was beating the opposing team 26-48 and it seemed it would be an easy dub for them.

The girls on the other team seemed to be a little cocky, at least that was what Kenzie picked up from their mannerisms. Anytime someone from Uconn had the ball the girls rolled their eyes. They hadn’t trash talked or said anything bad verbally, though, which Kenzie and the rest of the cheerleaders were grateful for. Finally, it was 4th quarter. Uconn was still very much in the lead and both the other team’s basketball players and cheerleaders had all but given up. Kenzie tightened her bow and waved her poms up high, “Let’s go Uconn!” The other girls joined in and rallied with her, which in turn brought the crowd’s noise level up. Then a girl on the opposite cheer team said rather loudly, “Oh my god. Can she, like, shut up?” Kenzie rolled her eyes and brushed it off. She honestly couldn’t care less about what people had to say. She was a cheerleader, and she was going to cheer. She hadn’t gone D1 in cheerleading just to stand there.

The comment quickly rolled off Kenzie’s back and was forgotten about in a matter of a few minutes. In the last 30 seconds of the game, Kk passed the ball to Paige who shot it into the net. The crowd exploded and everyone cheered. The cheerleaders all rallied and did the chant they did everytime their school won a game. Everything was perfectly fine until Kenzie heard that same scratchy voice from the other side of the court. This time the yelling wasn’t directed at her though.

“Number 5 you suck,” the same girl from early shouted, her poms cupping her mouth in an attempt to make her voice louder. Kenzie was fed up. She threw her poms down and calmly walked to the other side of the gym. The girl who had shouted was staring at her blankly, and she walked right over to her.

The rest of the cheerleaders and even Paige and her team were staring to see what Mackenzie was going to do to this girl. “That girl better watch out,” said Nika. “Kenzie doesn’t play with people trash talking Paige.”

Nika couldn’t be more right, because as soon as Kenzie saw the girl she knew what she was going to do. She stood in front of the girl and slapped her across the face.

“What the fuck? What is wrong with you?!” One of the girl’s teammates asked. Paige quickly ran up to the altercation you’d caused and held you back before you could hit the girl any more.

“Don’t say shit about my girlfriend! You can say anything, whatever you want about me, I don’t care. But she works too hard to have someone talk about her like that!”

Paige held your arms and turned you around to face her. “Thank you baby, but you didn’t have to do that. We still beat their team, so it doesn’t matter.” Kenzie nodded at Paige then smiled, “Yeah, you’re right P. Let me go say sorry to her.” Paige smiled at this, happy she’d talked some sense into you. But her smile quickly faded when you walked back up to the girl and slapped her on the other cheek.

“And that one is for telling me to be quiet. I changed my mind, don’t say shit about me either.”

[luveline]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐛 —send me an established relationship request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 1k or less

reader pulling Hotch in by his belt loops trying to break the ice after they get into a disagreement

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! vaguely suggestive. fem!reader

You know why you argued, but you kinda wish he'd stop being mad. You're not mad anymore, and he's the one who started it so he should be the one to raise the white flag. Maybe. It was only a little fight! 

You sigh dramatically. Hotch doesn't budge, wiping down dishes with a cloth one by one. 

"I'm sorry," you say, your third apology overall. 

"It's fine." He smiles from over his shoulder. You believe him, but he's still put out. You understand not everyone can move from an argumentative mood into a happy one quickly and try not to worry about it much longer, though the urge to kiss his scratchy jaw has its hooks in you. 

You put away the plates after he's dried them and figure you'll just have to go for it. While he's not paying attention, you slip your finger into the snug of his belt loop and pull him toward you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder rather than elbow you, looking down at you with a mixture of nearly hidden surprise and pleasure. He tries very hard to keep a straight face. 

"Hey, baby," you say, "you come here often?" 

"I'm still annoyed," he says, warmth creeping into his voice.

"Yes, well. Me too. But I like you more than I'm annoyed at you and I'd really like to kiss you, so… can I?" 

Hotch looks down at your hand in his belt loop and does that thing older guys do, a sound between a scoff and a laugh with a nod to seal the deal. "I suppose." 

"Oh, you suppose," you say, leaning up to kiss his chin, your following words smothered in his skin, "you would suppose, Hotchner, you're such a supposer."

He laughs again and you glow, sure it had been a weak joke. His smile twitches under your lips as you kiss him, and his hand cups the back of your neck. Forgiven. 

"Sorry," he says between kisses. It's low but impossible to miss, and his tone is sincere. "I'm not trying to be unreasonable." 

"You're very reasonable. And you can make it up to me, if you like." You blink your eyes open to meet his dark gaze, smiling as his hand slinks down the curve of your back.

"Should I pull at your jeans?" he asks. His finger curves into your belt loop, his hand angled further down. 

You lean in for another kiss. "Yes, please." 

[h0nkch0c0late]

ahhh stop ur gen v fics are too good. Maybe could you write abt reader having some sort of like super scream powers and they’re dating Jordan

You're too nice, anon 😭😭🫶🫶 also when you said super scream powers I immediately thought of the girl from Danger Force so that's kinda funny.

Scream Queen

Jordan Lee x Reader

SUMMARY: you've always hated your powers. Sonic screaming to you wasn't as cool as being able to teleport or moving things with your mind. To Jordan, your powers were amazing.

WARNINGS: swearing, a very supportive gushy Jordan.

-------------------------------------------

You felt like out of everyone, your powers were the most boring.

Now, to the normal human eye, your powers were awesome as fuck. With just a scream you could knock someone against a wall or paralyze people by making their eardrums bleed.

Jordan, although not a normal human being, absolutely adored your powers. It was one of the many things that made you unique. Not to mention it was fun watching you throw Rufus around when duelling for one of your classes.

The only problem was that your powers absolutely fucked with your throat afterwards and you would go hours without talking just to make yourself feel better, that or Jordan would stick you in their bed and make you lay there so they could take care of you.

And today was one of those days.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Jordan, babe, really I'm fine." You tell her, voice scratchy, trying to lift yourself from her bed.

She gave you a knowing look before pushing you back down, "you are definitely not fine, I can hear it. Now just lay there and wait." They demanded.

You sighed before clearing your throat, flinching at the pain that shot through your body at the action.

"Where the fuck are you gonna get the tea anyway?" You ask, regretting your choice of speaking as your throat felt like sandpaper.

Jordan smirks, "I have my ways. Now just lay there, do not move or speak while I go grab it." They retorted before rushing out of their dorm door.

You huffed, crossing your arms as you waited.

And while you waited, you thought about the events that had lead you to that moment.

Rufus had been his usual, creepy dickish self, and had chosen you as the main target that day.

Unfortunately for you, Jordan wasn't at your side to save you, so you had to save yourself.

So, as Rufus continually tried to get into your pants (more so you into his), saying things such as "I'm much better than Jordan" and comments about how his dick was bigger and better, you had just about enough.

Turning to him, and screaming as loud as you could, sending waves at the boy so loud that it had began to make his eardrums bleed. He had fallen to the ground paralyzed, his eyes frozen wide.

You smirked at him being defenseless as you rubbed your now-sore throat, just in time for Jordan to find you, ans that's how you ended up in his room for the millionth time.

They were fine with taking care of you, after all it was part of the job description of being your partner, and all.

In fact they absolutely loved it, because it meant that they're attention was on you and only you. And she loved those moments where it was just the two of you.

------------------------------------

Jordan came back shortly with a mug of tea in her hand, sweetened with mostly honey to the point where you couldn't tell what flavour the tea was.

Your favourite.

It also meant endless Jordan snuggles so you weren't much of a complainer when it came to that.

It was the fact that you constantly needed care. Yes, it was only a sore throat, but Jordan continuously refused to tell you what her sore throat remedy was BECAUSE she wanted to take care of you.

"Be careful, it's hot." They warned as they handed you the mug, then climbed into the bed with you.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm careful." You reply hoarsly before taking a sip of the drink, enjoying the feeling of the tea going down.

Jordan turned their body towards you, wrapping one arm around your torso and the other to entangle their fingers in your hair, kissing your shoulder as they snuggled close to you.

"You're too nice to me." You tell them as you take another sip of your tea, one of your fingers circling the rim of the cup as an unconscious fidget.

"Please, im the perfect amount of nice. You're just not used to this much attention, which I get." She noted, resting her head on your shoulder.

You rested the mug against your legs as you leaned your head against their's.

Jordan was right, you weren't used to all the attention.

Your parents had always been distant with you, making your nanny or a made take care of you whenever you got sick or when you used your powers because they were too busy living their own lives to take care of you.

And even then, those who did take care of you were absolutely terrified of you and your powers.

So when you had met Jordan, and first got into the relationship, the immediate switch of having no one to having someone was a big step.

"I love you, Jordan." You said after a moment of comfortable silence, your cup of tea half finished as you put it on your bedside table.

"I love you too." They replied, pulling you closer to them as you wrapped your arms around their waist.

Even during the times you hated your powers, Jordan somehow managed to make you love them.

-------------------------------------------------------

BOO another Jordan fic for you thirsty gentlebitches <3

[niki-phoria]

Hii!! It’s been a while since I requested something here, but I had an idea yesterday soo 🎉

Okay, first I saw that in TXT’s comeback showcase Soobin was coughing a lot, so my idea was gn reader Taking care of Soobin because he’s upset because he got sick right on comeback day. He gets annoyed at first but ends up crying in your arms because his throat is sore and his nose is congested so he can’t sing well and feels like he’ll mess everything up.

I imagined it with soobin first but this would be really cute with Beomgyu too. Please do whatever you feel comfortable with. Thank you!!! 💕💕

BE MY ETERNITY, SAY MY NAME

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/comfort word count 623

notes: thank you for requesting !! i just posted a soobin fic so i chose beomgyu for this one, i hope you like it <33 implied 06th member kinda, beomgyu cries a little bit, starting a 2k event pls consider checking it out !! title from txt - deja vu

“are you alright?” beomgyu’s tired eyes only meet your own for a second before he nods, brushing your concerns off with a simple “i’m fine” mumbled beneath his breath. you weren’t the first person who had asked him that dreaded question that afternoon, but you were the first person who called him out on the lie. 

beomgyu pauses when you reach over, gently resting your hand against his shoulder. he can feel the way your eyes study his features: red-rimmed eyes; sluggish movements; quiet, raspy words. all the tell-tale signs of the flu. 

“are you sure?” you’re closer now, reaching up to rest the back of your free hand against his forehead. beomgyu’s skin is slightly clammy and overly warm to the touch. “you feel really warm. did you catch a cold?”

“...i feel fine.” the words are hollow. beomgyu poorly stifles a cough beneath his breath - like his scratchy throat is karma for trying to lie to you. “my throat just hurts a little.”

you don’t believe him. he can tell by the way your eyebrows furrow just a little bit and how your hand has now fallen to his side, your arm wrapping around beomgyu’s waist to support him - even indirectly. “let’s take a break. you can lie down for a little while.”

you’re coaxing him to rest. to go to sleep - hopefully long enough to starve off the worst of the sickness before it comes. you won’t say the words outright because you know he’ll deny you in the hopes of making it through the rest of the week without having to mention how he feels like he’ll fall over if he stands upright for too long or how his nose is so stuffy that he can’t breathe properly. he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

but unfortunately for beomgyu, he can’t say no to you. and laying down for a while doesn’t sound like the worst thing right now.

“okay,” he nods, silently following after you. you smile softly when he agrees, slowly leading him towards your bedroom. beomgyu bites his tongue as you guide him towards your bed before you pull the blankets over him. he almost feels a little helpless - forcibly wrapped up in your covers and being unable to stand for more than a few minutes without becoming dizzy. 

he doesn’t protest when you slide into the empty space beside him. instead, beomgyu wraps his arms around you, leaning his face against your chest. you pull him a little closer in return, gently rubbing a hand against his back. “you don’t have to push yourself this hard, you know. it’s okay to ask for a break.”

he remains silent for a few minutes. you don’t ask for a response; your hand rubs soothing circles against his skin. your reassurance is given without any expectation for a response.

“i just… don’t want to let anybody down,” beomgyu whispers. he sniffles before nuzzling himself even closer to you, pressing his face against the crook of your neck. “we worked so hard on the comeback and now i can’t even perform it.”

“you could never let us down. i know how hard you worked for this, and so does everybody else,” beomgyu clings to you a little tighter when you move your hand upwards to run your hand through his hair. the strands are soft as you tangle them between your fingers. your nails gently massage against his scalp. “all that matters is that you try your best. and i know that you do.”

beomgyu doesn’t answer. at least, not verbally. he simply closes his eyes, letting your whispered reassurances fill the room and hoping you don’t mind the stray tears that occasionally land against the skin of your neck.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @besciitos @nxzz-skz

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my txt materlist <33

[callme-holly]

Do you think maybe you could write for Johnny where he goes on a first date with reader but he’s nervous and kinda messes it up but they try again and it works out? Sorry if that’s too specific!! Love your writing ♥️

'𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬' [𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry if parts of this doesn't make sense, I've been so sick this past week, my lungs are actually giving up on me.

Anyway, illness aside, as always I hope ya'll enjoy this and my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 897 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing and Johnny being Johnny <33

Johnny Cade chews on his bottom lip nervously, his fingers tapping against the surface of the table as he looks anywhere but you. He knows he should start up some sort of conversation; hell, he invited you here in the first place, but every time he opens his mouth to speak, he can't seem to muster up the words. His tongue feels like sandpaper, his throat dry and scratchy, and he can't help but notice the way you’re watching him from the other side of the table, eyebrows raised slightly as if you can sense that something is troubling him. 

Your eyes are gentle and sympathetic as they hold his own gaze firmly in place, but there's something else there too, something akin to sympathy. Or maybe it's concern. The same sort of concern that you would show to a frightened child or a scared cat. Johnny is not either of those things.

He clears his throat, looking down at his now half-empty coke bottle.

“So, uh,” he begins, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, not quite meeting your gaze. “What d'ya wanna talk about?” He tries to sound casual, but there's an underlying tone of nervousness that he can't seem to hide as you shrug slightly in response to his question.

 “Well, I don’t know,” you say softly. “I suppose we could talk about anything.”

His mouth opens, then shuts again just as quickly.

Anything? That wasn't helpful at all... 

“Do you... um...” He trails off for a second before shaking his head slightly. This was ridiculous. He knew what he wanted to say; why couldn't he get any fucking words out around you? 

Johnny shakes his head. “Never mind,” he mutters, his voice quiet as he goes back to staring at his coke bottle. You watch as his fingers tap idly at the glass, huffing out a small, quiet sigh. 

After another moment of silence, you reach across the table and take one of his hands, gently entwining your fingers with his. He stills instantly, startled by your touch, and you pull back slightly.

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“No!” His voice cracks slightly as he blinks owlishly at you. “Uh, no. It was... um... fine.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “It's fine. I mean, you just... surprised me, that's all.” He laughs weakly before clearing his throat again. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”

You smile faintly. “I didn't.”

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, trying to ignore how badly he wishes he could just turn and run for the door. Why had he let Dally talk him into this? His buddy didn’t know any more about dates than he himself did. He should’ve gone to Soda instead. 

“Johnny?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns to face you again, finding you watching him intently, an unreadable expression on your face as you slowly begin to pull your hand back once more. “Are you okay? You've been acting weird since we got here. If you're uncomfortable, I understand. We can leave and find something else to do.”

“No!” He blurts, reaching to entwine your fingers, only to knock over his drink in the process, the contents promptly spilling over the table and, much to Johnny’s horror, onto you. His eyes widen in dismay, and he stands abruptly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the table across from you and wiping up the spill as fast as his trembling hands will allow, a string of apologies tumbling forth from his lips as he does so. 

“Shit, I'm sorry,"  he manages to stammer before you cut him off.

“It's fine, Johnny. Don't worry about it.” You stand slowly from your seat, trying to ignore the cold press of the wet fabric on your skin as you usher him out of the diner, ignoring the strange looks you receive from other patrons. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, the greaser is throwing apologies at you once more, running a hand through his heavily greased hair. “God damn it, I'm so-”

You shake your head. “Hey,” you interrupt quietly. “It's okay. Really.”

“Still…” He hesitates, taking in a shaky breath before starting to speak again. “Look, can we maybe try again? Somewhere that isn't a busy diner with loads of people.” He rubs nervously at the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

He didn't usually have a problem with busy places, but he certainly didn't enjoy it when everybody's attention was on him, their judgement heavy and suffocating as they bore holes into him with their disgusted stares. 

He shakes his head and adds, “Maybe somewhere with a lower risk of me spillin' my drink all over ya.”

Your lips tug upwards. “Sure, we can try again. How about a movie on Friday night?” 

Your suggestion brings a light flush to Johnny's cheeks, and he nods eagerly. A movie might help to take his mind off everything, to take away from his nerves a little bit. 

“Yea, sure.” He pauses and bites at his lower lip briefly. “You need me to walk ya home?”

You laugh softly. “No. It's only a few blocks. You get yourself home, Johnny Cade.”

He nods, looking hopeful. “Right. See you Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm, offering him one last smile before heading off in the direction of your house, leaving him standing dumbfounded on the curb.

Gosh, wait until Dally hears about this... 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!