#can’t you guess he’s my current fixation?

[godofstupidsentences]

I would literally give everything to read Tradition Of Tragedy

[familyvideostevie]

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 

You’ve only been open for two hours. 

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 

Your coffee shop. 

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired. 

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 

You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him? 

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

__

Joel stops by again. 

And again. 

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying. 

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 

“I’m honored,” he says. 

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash. 

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 

He smirks. “Miss me?” 

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags. 

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.” 

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 

They both wave at you as they drive away. 

__

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted. 

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

__

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 

And you still barely know him. But you want to. 

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says. 

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.” 

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says. 

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe. 

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[exactlymaximumgarden]

hi ;) i love your lc!schlatt writes can you write some fluff w him

hi anon! for sure i can. this is definitely a little self-indulgent so sorry abt that looool

the cacophony of voices echoing from inside the lunch club house is currently muffled as you and schlatt sit outside. it’s a rare occasion - a cool summer’s night in los angeles. you can pick out various members’ voices distinctly, although for the most part, they blend in with the thick aussie drawl from the misfits. as much fun as your boyfriend has filming with his friends and getting to collaborate with other content creator groups, sometimes he just needs a breather. tonight is one of those nights.

you peer out of your periphery to check on how he’s doing. he stands beside you, elbows propped on the balcony’s edge as he gazes wordlessly up at the stars. his chocolatey eyes glimmer as they fixate on the sky while the moonlight casts a pale glow on his skin. it’s almost hard to tear your eyes off him.

“i see you starin’.”

you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice ringing out. you were so lost in your daze that you practically forgot he was a sentient being and not just a statue you could admire.

“is that so bad?” you reply teasingly, trying to cover for your being caught.

“nah.” he turns his head to fully face you, his signature grin adorning his lips. “i like when you do that.”

“yeah? why’s that?”

“gives me an ego boost to know someone as pretty as you thinks i’m worth starin’ at.” he playfully nudges you with his hip as you scoff.

“smooth.”

“how’d you guess my middle name?” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes at his pathetic attempts at flirting as his arms snake around your waist. your height difference makes it so easy for him to rest his chin atop your head, but you don’t really mind. a cool night breeze dances through the air, lightly tickling both of your faces as you stand there wordlessly. the only sounds now are your soft breathing and the rowdy voices coming from inside the house, which are beginning to fade further and further away as you allow yourself to relish in this moment with schlatt.

this is what peace feels like.

it might be seconds, minutes, or hours before you speak next. you can’t tell. time doesn’t seem to function like it should when it’s just the two of you. “should we go back inside soon?” you whisper. “the others might be wondering where we went.”

“who cares?” he murmurs in response, his grip on your waist tightening as he tilts his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “let ‘em wonder. i want a little more time with my baby.”

you can’t bite back your grin, relaxing into his lanky form behind you. “can’t argue with that one.”

“good.” his answer comes accompanied by a soft chuckle. you tilt your head back instinctively, wanting to catch the traces of his laughter on his face before they fade, only to meet his adoring gaze already glancing back down at you. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know that? so beautiful.”

“schlatt!” you whine his name, growing increasingly flustered at his compliments. he doesn’t frequently dole them out verbally simply due to his awkwardness, but when he does, they set your heart aflutter. 

“i mean it!” his hands slide down a short distance from your waist to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze to catch your attention. “i love ya, baby. i really do.”

even in the dim night light, the both of your blushes are clearly visible to the other.

“and i love you.”

[vlrspace]

something different

nanami x reader

about: a date with nanami leads to something else

warnings: nsfw!, mndi!, dry humping, pet names, fem! reader, slightly inexperienced reader, minor injury(?), unedited fic

words: 2K

maybe this date idea isn’t as ideal as it first sounded.

it’s getting harder to focus on how to make your favourite dish, as nanami walks you through every step. honestly, you were lost from the second nanami rolled up the sleeves of his white button up, showing off his strong, veiny arms.

you’re a little clumsy in the kitchen, so nanami offered to teach you a thing or two about how to cook. you guess you could blame it on the excitement that fills up your very being, because it really is special to share such intimate moment, like cooking, with someone so dear to you. yet, you can’t help but feel a little nervous as well, too afraid of messing up even a slightest bit, which could make you look unappealing to nanami.

he’s a very domesticated man, knowing his way around the household he owns. his place is never messy, cleaner than anywhere else you’ve ever been. on your first date, instead of taking you out, he invited you over and made the most delicious dinner, it had the potential to rival with those michelin starred ones.

you can’t believe it’s been three months since you started seeing nanami, it’s still fresh and new and the two of you never gone farther than a few innocent kisses and cuddles on his couch.

yeah, maybe that’s why you’re nervous and a little excited, the possibility of something new happening tonight is lingering in the air and you hope you aren’t being a little delusional and clouded by the lust you feel for the handsome man beside you.

“shit” you hiss, swiftly pulling your hand away from the knife and the meat you were currently cutting up. it’s a bad habit of yours to focus on your thoughts so much, you become unaware of your surroundings.

“are you alright? did you cut yourself” nanami’s larger hand instantly finds yours, inspecting the little cut on your pointer finger, thankfully it wasn’t bleeding furiously. “i’ll get go the plasters, put your finger under the tap in the sink” he instructs, voice void of any kind of anger and instead he presses a light kiss on your forehead before disappearing towards his bathroom.

while you let the water from the tap wash your blood away, you can’t help but pout. this is exactly what you wanted to avoid, to mess up in front of nanami, now you’re sure he won’t offer to cook with you again.

“can i get a look?” he asks as soon as he’s back by your side, gently taking your hand is his as he begins to tend to your tiny wound. nimble fingers treat yours with such delicacy, you feel the butterflies in your tummy going wild at the act.

“i’m sorry, i’m really bad in the kitchen” you mumble out quietly, not meeting his amber eyes as he looks at you softly with a smile.

“don’t apologise sweetheart, we all learn from our mistakes. here, let me help you” nanami leads you to stand before him, engulfing your hand in his as he reaches for the knife and picks up from where you left.

all your negative thoughts instantly disappear and instead, your mind is filled with the fact that nanami is standing so close to you, his firm chest barely touching your back and you feel his breath on your neck. it takes you a lot to not shiver or lean back against him completely, forcing yourself to stay fixated on the way he’s using your hands with his to cut up the remaining pieces of chicken for your dinner.

“see my love, this is a much safer way to cut up meat” nanami’s deep voice brings you back to earth, this time you’re unable to stop the ragged breath leaving you as you lean yourself closer towards the kitchen isle.

“yeah?” you muse back, your voice coming out slightly higher than usual.

nanami only hums in response, hips following yours, pressing you tight against the hard surface, before his lips find the skin of your neck. the moan that escapes you, leaves you embarrassed and you drop the knife from your hand, but nanami pushes it into the sink right away with the cutting board in sync.

he leans away to check if there’s anything else that could possibly harm you on the kitchen counter and when he finds nothing else, he turns you around before smoothly lifting you onto the cold surface.

nanami doesn’t kiss you right away, he wants to take in your beautiful form, chest heaving from his ministrations on your neck and your face is flustered red. in nanami’s opinion, you look breathtaking tonight, in your tennis skirt and sweater and if it wasn’t for the amazing control he has over himself, he’s sure he would’ve had you in his bed right at the first date.

but you’re so delicate and precious, the second he laid eyes on you, he knew you were pure. nanami also doesn’t want to rush you into anything serious after you told him about all the bad experiences you’ve been through so far and he wants you to want him just as much as he wants you when the time is right.

though, he hopes you don’t mind if the two of you go further than a few little pecks.

nanami pulls you flush against his crotch, making you let out another sinful moan before biting those plush lips of your and you look at him with such cloudy eyes from these small acts alone, nanami feels his cock twitch in his pants.

“can i kiss you princess?” you feel his breath on your lips as he leans in, amber eyes dark with want and your hands find their ways into his hair, fingers fiddling with the longer strands. you meekly nod, eyes switching between his eyes and lips. “talk to me baby” nanami chuckles and encourages you with a squeeze of your waist.

“yes” you breath out needly and there’s a tiny smirk stretching out on his face before he finally places his lips on yours.

nanami starts off a simple kiss, he doesn’t want to scare you away or make you feel uncomfortable. he doesn’t even want to move his hands from waist till he made sure that you don’t mind him touching elsewhere. it’s been a while since nanami had a relationship, but you already feel so special to him, he knows his heart wouldn’t take it well if you left him.

he leaves pecks on your lips, varying between shorter and longer ones. you don’t feel as tense, probably because you feel the safest when you are with nanami. if anything, you are curious about where this is going.

“can we try something a little different princess?” nanami ask after parting away from you, the way he speaks is a little raspy and it sends a tingling sensation to your core. “we can stop anytime you want” one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek in his warm hand, making you look up into those honey brown you love so much.

“sure” your respond comes out shyly and you look up at him with your doe eyes. nanami feels his cock grow semi hard from the face you make at him and how trusting you are.

“if you want me to stop, i’ll stop, okay little one?” nanami smiles at you reassuringly and you quickly nod before he smashes his lips against your with a little more force than before and soon enough, you feel his tongue asking for permission.

you feel ashamed at how fast you open your mouth for his tongue to enter and it swirls with yours. the hand that was on your cheeks now wanders back to your waist and moves to rest on your lips. you let nanami take charge and you feel him pull you even closer to him, closer to his crotch.

it’s your first time feeling nanami in such way and you moan into his mouth when his dick presses against your clothed core. your skirt is bunched up a little on your thighs and one of nanami’s hand sneaks to hold the underside to wrap it around his waist, before his starts moving his hips to yours. his other hand moves under your sweater, but before he moves it up further, he leans back a little.

“is this okay?” nanami’s question is accompanied with a squeeze of your tit. another moan leaves your lips as you nod, your hands leaving his hair and move to unbutton his shirt eagerly. while you do that, nanami holds you closer to him and walks to the living room before sitting down on the couch, with you on his lap.

by the time he sits down, you’re nearly finished with unbuttoning his shirt and nanami sits up a little to take it off before leaning back into the couch. your hands find his chiselled abs, flexing under your touch, but your focus is back on nanami’s lips, because he puts a finger under your chin to guide you back to his lips.

nanami moves both hands back under to cup both of your tits through your bra and it makes you squeeze your thigh together around his waist, pressing down on his crotch in turn, making nanami groan. you do it again, testing the waters and nanami pulls away from him.

“didn’t know that i have a needy little thing between hands” he groans and encourages you to keep going before stopping completely. nanami hadn’t realised that your hands left his abs and he watches you with wide eyes as you take your sweater off.

you look at him carefully, his amber looking you up and down, taking in your form as you sit in his lap, only in a pair of pink lacy bra and a skirt. the both of you are breathless, a little flustered and overall horny.

“it’s only fair for me to take it off too” your words are a little shaky, but you offer him a little smile as you fiddle with your fingers. nanami chuckles before responding to you with a smirk.

“you’re very eager for me, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks tentatively and thrusts his hips upwards, pushing you into his chest and his lips find your neck, kissing all over to find that special spot of yours and when you let our a whimper, he bites down on the spot, licking and kissing it till it turns purple.

all the while, his hands slip under your bra, massaging and teasing your perky nipples while the two of you grind against each other, the air heavy with moans and groans. after leaving a few hickies around your neck and collarbone, nanamis lips kiss back up to yours through your jaw. your hands caress through his upper body and the way your smaller hands softly touch him all over while the two of move against each other faster.

“you’ll make me cum in my pants sweet girl” he mumbles between kisses and you only kiss him back feverishly, feeling closer to your high as well.

“i’m close kento” you whine and he coos sweet nothings to you.

nanami’s hands leave your chest to cup your ass, setting a rough pace for the both of you as he thrusts up to meet with your grinding. your hands find his cheeks, cupping them as you kiss him, tongues moving around and you feel a little saliva in the corners of your mouth pooling.

one particular thrust of nanami makes you scream his name out as you cum all over his pants and he follows you too, cock twitching in his briefs and spilling all over. you slump forward and lay against his chest, both of your breathings heavy and nanami moves his hands to stroke your back.

“i’ve never came by a man before” you mumble quietly and you feel nanami tense against you, before hugging you close to him.

“i can make cum as many times as you want to princess, if you let me” nanami’s deep voice comes out softly, feeling proud at himself for being the first man to cause you such pleasure.

and hopefully, he’ll be the only one too.

@/vlrspace, 2023

[neiptune]

no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you

cw: 1.4k wc, mentions of alcohol, painful breakup, hurt no comfort, reader is a writer, you call levi in the middle of the night and the last thing you expect is for him to pick up

You don’t expect him to pick up.

Levi is always busy: when he’s not working he’s at the gym, tidying up his apartment or entertaining a surprisingly large social circle one wouldn’t expect someone as quiet as him to have.

Levi has hobbies. He enjoys going to the movies, visiting exhibitions, experimenting in the kitchen with western recipes.

Levi is also usually asleep at 1 am, the man has quite the regular routine and tries to be in bed by no later than midnight because, of course, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn.

But he picks up and suddenly the glasses of wine shared with your friends, the joy of a night out still lingering in your throat like magical golden bubbles, weighs heavy on your chest. He wasn’t supposed to pick up.

“Hey” his voice is gravelly but no as in I-was-almost-asleep-you-asshole-what-could-you-possibly-want. It reminds you of all the times you two have laughed until tears streamed down your cheeks, those incredibly rare moments where you could bribe him with your silly humor and stupid videos, knowing looks, exasperated smile. His voice used to always get so husky after laughing for so long, almost a protest of throat muscles not used to the foreign action.

“Hi” you swallow what feels like a lump of ashes “sorry, it’s kinda late. I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping. I’m actually at the bar with some friends”

You hear the music, the voices, the clinking of glasses.

Well, that’s new.

“Wow” you fail to suppress a tiny, amused smile.

“I know, right?” when you don’t say anything back, he clears his throat “how are you?”

“Good” the reply is automatic, you’re kinda on autopilot and being tipsy makes the entire situation just weird, unexpected, instead of painfully embarrassing “um, what about you?”

“I’m okay. Currently putting myself out there”

“Like I always told you to?”

He smiles a little at that but you can’t see it and it’s been too long to guess the stretch of his lips by his voice only.

“Like you always told me to”

“I don’t want to keep you”

“No, it’s fine” Levi inhales and waves back at one of his friends sitting at the table with everyone else while he lingers by the counter “I’m waiting for my beer. Erwin’s here, he’d probably want me to say hello on his behalf”

You ache for another little piece that has been taken out of your life for good the afternoon Levi broke up with you. His family and his hobbies and his routine and his friends. They all used to be a little yours, too.

“Tell him I said hi”

His gaze fixates on a tiny stain on the counter and as he starts absentmindedly scraping the surface with one nail, the words come out on their own accord.

“It’s nice to hear from you, by the way. I thought about calling but I didn’t want to make it weird or uncomfortable”

You melt against the comfort of your pillows, wishing the couch could absorb the sudden exhaustion consuming your cardiac muscles. Fuck, it still hurts. Who would’ve guessed? Five months of going out with your friends, drinking, dancing with strangers, downloading dating apps only to delete them again. It’s never enough. How could it be? Can five months fix a shattered heart that hurts as much as crushed bones? He’s pulled you apart and you still can’t quite remember which piece is supposed to go where. Five months are definitely not enough.

“For me, you mean” it comes out bitter, borderline resentful, and Levi sighs. He sighs. It makes you clench your fist.

“Don’t be like that”

“I’m not being like anything”

“Well, it’s not what I meant. But I know you need something to be mad at, you always do” he retorts.

You sit up straight at that, a jolt of electricity running across your spine. The skin of your forearms starts tingling.

Fuck. You.

“Levi” you’re a fucking asshole fuck you fuck you fuck you for leaving me fuck you for making me fall in love with you “seriously?”

“I’m sorry” he says and he actually means it, tone so sincere it plants a scorching fire poker right through your chest “sorry. That was shitty”

“It’s fine”

No point in fighting anyway, you want to add. Isn’t that what caused everything to go to shit in the first place? Arguments, bitter retorts, stupid quarrels and frustration building up over the silliest things.

I’m too tired for this.

I literally just got back from the office, can you give me a fucking break?

Levi, is it really so hard to wash your goddamn mug in the morning before leaving?

I don’t want to go out tonight.

I have plans with my friends, actually.

Shit, I forgot. Was it today?

It’s okay. No worries.

I’m not sure.

I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.

It’s fine.

“How’s your family?” he conveniently changes the subject with evergreen smoothness. You shut your eyes.

“They’re fine” my mom misses you “dad is going to buy that kawasaki ninja, I think”

“Are you kidding?” his chuckle startles you and the room suddenly feels like a ship, couch and pavement and walls and paintings undulating dangerously “wow, that’s some dedication”

“Yeah, he’s pretty excited. Are things in the office alright? Is that intern of yours, Armin, still there?”

“I hired him, actually. Pretty good catch”

Pieces that were taken, new pieces adding up to his life without you being aware in the slightest. It’s none of your business anymore.

“That’s great, Levi” it’s redundant, really, repeating his name so many times. But you can’t remember the last time you said it out loud and it still tastes perfect on your tongue, weighs exactly the correct amount.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Ah. I’m kinda in a slump right now”

“Not the first time. You’ll bounce back, can’t wait to look for your next masterpiece in the thrillers and crime section” now you hear the smile and your eyes are suddenly wet.

“I miss you” it comes out before you can stop it, before you can think. He used to find your inebriated state adorable, funny, attractive even. He used to buy expensive red wine you’d share on your couch and cool fingers would sneak underneath your shirts and jeans and his laugh would fill the air like a perfect melody as his lips were softly pressed to your neck.

“God. Guess that’s a weird thing to say. Did I make this weird?”

“No” his voice is kind and dripping with sympathy, which makes your insides churn with sudden pangs of the worst nausea “I miss you too. We were pretty special”

Oh, Levi. Always so gentle at breaking your heart. Never too rough, yet careful enough to paint some very well needed permanent, conclusive hue over three years. You wish it could’ve been just as easy for you.

“Right” then why did you go? “breakups suck”

The childishness of what you just said makes you giggle.

“They really do” he indulges “it’s been a while but you know, right? I’ll always care about you”

It really hasn't been a while for you. His absence painfully throbs along the margins of your days, the spot he used to take in your life and your couch and your kitchen now filled with devastating emptiness.

“I really loved you” Levi adds softly and it’s a concession. You’re grateful.

“I really loved you, too” I would still cross oceans and climb mountains to get to you “have fun, yeah? I mean, be happy. Find whatever it was I couldn’t give you” when did you start crying? You hope he can’t hear it in how oddly your voice is quivering.

Levi sighs again, quietly. You gave me plenty, you gave me everything. He wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that you don’t have anything to blame yourself for. But he knows it’s gonna sound terrible, condescending and disgusting. He knows you’ll heal on your terms, it’s not his place to interfere anymore.

“Thank you for calling” he murmurs and the line goes silent for a second too long, has him shortly wondering if you’re already gone.

“Yeah. Sure, um. Goodnight, Levi” you hang up immediately because you know he’s already guessed the wetness of your cheeks and is probably imagining the redness of your eyes.

He stares at the screen, your name hasn’t blinked back at him in a while. It gives him comfort. But then his beer is getting warm and his friends are calling for him and the phone is shoved back into his pocket and the night has only just begun.

[lovingseventeen]

braiding svt’s hair 

a/n: wholesome, but also some crack i guess LOL 

seungcheol: 

✿ agreed without giving much thought to it 

✿ up until you had to pull a few strands a bit tighter because they were shorter

✿ “HE-hey!” he half-yells, remembering that he doesn’t ever want to raise his voice at you 

✿ “sorry cheol” you say, still too fixated on getting his braids done to notice how sulky he’s getting 

✿ “enjoy this now, it’ll be the last time” he says, a very noticeable pout in his voice 

jeonghan:

✿ bros beautiful 

✿ he had no problem letting you braid his hair because he did have his hair in a braid before when it was significantly longer 

✿ his hair is medium length currently, so you don’t have to pull too hard for him, and you give him this style that has two braids that meet at the back of his head

✿ “can’t believe this suits you so well, hannie” you tell him as he looks in the mirror, his fingers gracing his hair so elegantly

✿ “ay, c’mon no one’s prettier than you” he replies, coming to place a kiss on your cheek 

joshua:

✿ he actually usually braids your hair when you ask him to 

✿ one day you offer to braid his so you two match 

✿ naturally, he’s agreeing 

✿ he’s so smiley when you match - ofc you have to take pictures together 

✿ it definitely becomes his new lock screen 

jun:

✿ would never say no to you 

✿ tilts his head back when you start tugging, “baaabe” and you have to tell him to hold still 

✿ gives you a thumbs up afterwards because he doesn’t look bad, he figures

hoshi:

✿ ofc you gotta braid your babygirl’s hair 

✿ he feels so dainty after you give him two little braids  

✿ keeps forming a “v” with his hands to frame his face LOL 

✿ highkey, he looks good though, would probably eventually ask you to actually try styling his hair and he’d give his stylist a reference photo in the future 

wonwoo:

✿ also rarely says no to you 

✿ he sits patiently on the floor as you sit on the couch because of his height 

✿ “wonu you look so cute” you gush, cupping his cheeks after giving him a little crown with his braids 

✿ he smiles in return, “as long as you’re happy” 

woozi:

✿ you’re running your hands through his hair as he plays a song guide, he likes when you do this 

✿ you’ve been noticing his fringe has been getting longer, “you want me to help get your hair out of the way?” you ask 

✿ “could you?” he replies, sitting up to make it a little easier for you 

✿ you do a little braid that will keep some of the shorter strands in place, freeing his forehead 

✿ he checks your work when you finish, surprised at the little braid but thankful nonetheless, placing a kiss to your hand 

✿ “thank you, i’ll try to wrap this up soon” 

dokyeom:

✿ “‘kyeomie, would you let me braid your hair?” you asked in boredom one day 

✿ he’s nodding, already trying to find where to sit to make it easy for you, “where do you want me?” 

✿ you giggle, telling to sit on a stool and that you’ll stand 

✿ highkey loves it when you finish, his eyes crinkle when he smiles “i feel pretty” 

✿ you almost can’t believe how adorable your boyfriend is, “that you are” you smile back :’)

mingyu:

✿ also a WHINER 

✿ you’re not even pulling his hair the way he’s claiming 

✿ he’s gasping and whining at every tug regardless of how much force you’re actually using 

✿ “babe!” he whines when you actually give him one tug ✿ becomes so pouty even when you finish his braid without pulling hard 

✿ he’s bringing a hand to his scalp and there’s a very obvious pout on his lips going, “why do you hate me” 

✿ you jokingly roll your eyes, “you know for such a tall man, you’re a baby” 

✿ he doesn’t care lmao, he’ll use you ‘hurting him’ as an excuse to be clingy that day 

minghao:

✿ his hair is starting to get longer but management says he isn’t allowed to get it cut yet 

✿ has been opting for a half ponytail recently but he also wants something different 

✿ “do you know how to do something to tie my hair back?” he asks you

✿ you do this little braid that keeps his main fringe out of his face and sort of just tucks it behind one ear 

✿ your boyfriend looks very elegant when you finish, slightly feminine but it’s never something that bothered him 

✿ kisses the side of your head as a thank you 

seungkwan:

✿ doesn’t tell you that you’re actually hurting him 

✿ he just sits there quietly so you had no idea that you were pulling a bit hard

✿ you only find out when you find him looking in the mirror after and wincing as he touches his scalp 

✿ “seungkwan, is the braid too tight?” 

✿ “yeah” as he looks away PLS 

✿ “you should’ve told me!” you exclaim, immediately feeling bad. you take his arm to get him to sit as you quickly take out the elastic and undo his braids

✿ “i’m sorry, baby” you tell him after, kissing the top of his head 

vernon:

✿ you actually end up braiding his hair for fun because he fell asleep in your lap 

✿ he actually only notices when he goes to the bathroom when he wakes up and sees himself in the mirror 

✿ walks back out to you with eyebrows raised as he points to his hair

✿ “i got bored?” you offer 

✿ “okay” he replies simply, he keeps them in anyway because there isn’t an urge to take them out 

✿ soon realizes that he appreciates his hair being out of his face 

✿ might ask you in the future to give him one braid at home because he likes it 

dino:

✿ is HURT that YOU hurt him 

✿ “baby-baby wait” he whines, a hand coming up to touch his scalp 

✿ “it’s not that bad i’m almost done-” you tell him as you pull again

✿ dino lets out this yelp before you tie an elastic at the end 

✿ “did i do something to you recently?” he genuinely asks, “because i’m sorry, whatever i did, i get it” 

✿ take the braids out soon pls 

[coryosbaby]

i saw that you wrote for donnie darko a while ago and since i’m currently fixating on him i present a very intriguing concept: stepbro!donnie.

i feel like he’d love the taboo aspects of it and would have no trouble justifying it to himself bc it’s not like you’re related.

18+, MDNI !! stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), suggestive content , kissing

No cs he literally would. In the movie he’s all about “I don’t want to fuck my family, that’s weird.” But with you, he doesn’t even view you as family— not really, anyway. Sure, your parents are together but at the end of the day there’s no blood relation, right? It’s not normal to daydream about tit fucking your sister, either, so— yeah. Definitely doesn’t view you as a relative.

He’s a total horn dog. I can imagine him making a move on you for the first time when you’re both watching a movie— some dumbass sex scene comes on and suddenly his dick is springing up and he’s subtly placing a pillow across his lap. He watches your concentration on the screen, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“Why do they always decide to fuck in these movies?” You question. You say this because you’re both watching some random slasher with an unnecessary amount of girl on boy sex scenes. “There’s like, a killer on the loose. How stupid can you be?”

He shrugs. His hand moves to the bulge in his pants.

“Spur of the moment, I guess,” he replies. “Can’t really control it once it starts.”

“And what would you know about the art of intimacy?”

It’s a joke, an innocent little jab that usually has Donnie firing back with something like, “you’re one to talk,” and then making a joke about your empty dating history— but he doesn’t do that this time. No, you’re too pretty. He’s too horny. He needs to break the ice before he lands hard on his ass and doesn’t get back up.

“Wanna find out?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes a bit wide and freaked out when you hear the (incredibly impulsive) words spill from your stepbrother’s lips. But also— and only Donnie would notice this, seeing you all the time and all, and not because he thinks about you every waking moment— you seem to be intrigued. Your eyes scan over his body and move back up to his face.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” You tease, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You wish. I’d never fuck your virgin ass.”

“How’dya know if you’ve never tried it?” And he gives you that shit eating grin when he’s really amused, the one that makes your stomach do flips. “You could kiss me instead, then. See if you like it.”

“I’m not kissing my brother.”

“Stepbrother,” he corrects. His legs spread apart, almost like an invite. You pretend not to notice. “C’mon, kid. don’t be a pussy.”

He calls you kid even though you’re only one month younger than him. He does this because he knows it irks you. You roll your eyes, licking your plump bottom lip.

“Whatever,” you mumble, then you groan. “Come here, then. But if you slip me tongue, Darko, I swear to god I’ll tell your English professor that you cheated on your exams last year.”

He begins scooting closer, his jean clad thigh pressing against your bare one, and he seems very giddy.

“Won’t give you tongue,” he replies. “I swear it on my life.”

You give an annoyed hum. Donnie’s arm goes behind you on the back of couch, and you can smell his cologne and the dial soap he uses in the shower. When neither of you makes a move— an awkward stare into each other’s eyes, faces a few inches apart, Donnie’s eyes filling with something you can’t quite make out— you utter, “Well, are you going to do it or not?”

Instead of replying, he just.. goes for it. He presses his mouth to yours in a smooth peck. But fuck, he’s so hard, and he’s wanted this for so long. He goes back in for another, mouth opened slightly, awkward. Virginal. The two of you kiss like this because that’s exactly what the both of you are— virgins. When you pull away from him, his lashes flutter open and he grins again. You want to kiss him some more— maybe his tongue in your mouth wouldn’t be so bad. But you hold back, eyes blinking.

“This is really fuckin’ weird, Donnie.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[hypnoneghoul]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 3

WC: 2,8k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Mentions of Vomiting, Medical Quintessence, Panic Attack, Nausea, Food Repulsion, Gender Dysphoria, Very Brief Abortion Talk, Hurt/Comfort

“Does that fit what you were thinking?” “I’m…actually pregnant?”

Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for beta reading :3

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 3 under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss all but runs to the infirmary, wanting to get there before he changes his mind.

He feels stupid for even considering it.

Hoping?

Either way, something is really wrong with him and he has to get himself checked out.

The way he stumbles into Omega’s office makes the older ghoul jump behind his desk and furrow his brows; instinctively looking for injuries on Swiss “Are you okay, what’s on fire? Or who’s on fire?”

“No, no fire–or no, fire’s in my fucking guts and it’s driving me crazy,” the multi ghoul pants, slumped against the door frame. The trip shouldn’t have tired him as much as it did, “like–you know how you’re hungover and want to puke, but–that’s just nausea, but I’m rarely nauseous and lately it’s been just, oh my lord below, you know, it’s like–”

“Swiss…”

“No, no, I know, I know I sound crazy, but–my skin feels weird, my insides feel weird and my everything is so messed up,” he continues his ramble, “and I feel like absolute shit, you know when it’s like a train ran you over? Yeah, so I usually don’t care, but now I’m losing my mind ‘cause I’m low-key scared and now–now I’m here and Mountain’s asleep ‘cause I think I left a lung in the fucking toilet so–”

“Swiss!” Omega’s raised voice finally snaps the multi ghoul out of it. “Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry, can you just–check me out for…everything?”

“Everything?” Omega questions. “Why won’t you just tell me what your concerns are?”

“Because even though I doubt it’s possible my brain decided to fixate on it and I don't want to make even a bigger fool out of myself, so just please, scan me over with your quintessence, or something, and just tell me what you see.”

The quintessence ghoul is currently more concerned with the other’s mental state, rather than his physical one, but he will do what Swiss is asking of him. After all he’s there to help, whatever the issue may be and however he has to discover it. Omega stands up and points at an empty gurney on the other side of his office. “Why don’t you sit down, try to relax a little.”

Swiss obeys, although it’s not so easy to just relax. He tries his best, taking a few deep breaths as Omega puts on his glasses and walks up to him.

“I’ll put one hand on your shoulder and the other one on your chest, is that okay?” Swiss nods. “Alright, then, let’s see…”

Omega’s quintessence flows into him and makes his entire body tingle as it travels through his veins and along his nerves and penetrates layer after layer of skin.

Swiss becomes uncomfortably aware of every single piece of his mortal vessel and tries to take a deep calming breath; it only makes him strangely aware of his lungs, too.

It’s the longest five seconds in the multi ghoul’s life, he thinks, as he feels the other inspect him whole, looking for–

Omega tries to stay professional and not make his internal shock external.

Surely not, it can’t be.

He grits his teeth and goes to double check.

How…?

“Oh…” he finally mutters, pulling back.

“‘Oh’ what!?”

“Do you, uh…” Swiss doesn’t like Omega’s confused and frankly scared expression at all, “do you want to see what I see?”

“Uhm, I guess…” He shrugs, chuckling nervously and trying his very fucking best to keep his composure. Omega steps forward and puts his hands on either side of Swiss’ head, fingers pressing lightly into his temples.

“Okay, let me in.” Swiss does—it’s easy; the anxiety is making his walls lower and thinner. He closes his eyes to focus on the image the quintessence ghoul is showing him. “So this is how I normally see a ghoul, the light is their energy, their essence. Not a soul, just…energy.”

It’s like a vague human-like shape in a darkness, in a void. The edges of the form are fuzzy and it’s filled with a faint colorful light, but what stands out is a blindingly bright orb of pure light in the middle of the shape’s chest.

“Okay. What’s wrong with mine?”

“Nothing. But this is how I’m seeing you now.” The image shifts and…three more lights, so much duller and smaller than the first one, show up in the area of Swiss’ lower abdomen.

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Omega sighs, “does that fit what you were thinking?”

“I’m…actually pregnant?” Swiss chokes out. The words nearly get stuck in his throat, because…how can it be real? “With three kits?”

“You are,” the quintessence ghoul confirms and the ringing in Swiss’ ears gets deafening.

“H–how is that even possible?” he hears himself asking, but he can’t feel his mouth moving.

“Good question. I have no idea, I guess the best answer is that you’re a walking miracle all over and Lucifer decided to grant one more. Or rather three.”

“Can you, uhm…” his voice cracks; this is getting way too much too quickly, “can you get Mountain for me?”

“Of course. Baby daddy?”

“Yeah, I–I suppose…he’s the only one who–who gets in there,” Swiss admits, making Omega chuckle despite everything. He’s trying to stay composed, but this is a first one for him, too. He’s not as scared as the multi ghoul—obviously—but it’s…tense.

Swiss is absolutely freaking out.

“Holy–holy shit, what the fuck, oh my–oh Lucifer, what the fuck!?” he mutters under his breath. Or maybe it’s just in his head?

He doesn’t know how much time passes before they hear the door to the infirmary slam open.

“What happened? What’s wrong, my heart, are you alright?” Mountain barges in demanding answers; a strong smell of worry reaching Swiss and Omega before the earth ghoul himself does. He’s completely disheveled; it’s clear he jumped straight out of bed to come for his mate.

Swiss just stares at him, though, with glassy eyes and mouth slightly agape.

Mountain gets even more worried—it’s rare his mate is speechless. He turns to the other ghoul in the room, “Omega, what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong, he’s just…a little overwhelmed,” Omega replies. Mountain gets to them and immediately takes Swiss into his arms. “Swiss, do you want to tell him yourself or do you want me to?”

The multi ghoul tries to come back to earth, get himself together to consider the question that he’s just been asked.

“I–I can, uh…” he stutters and pauses to take a big breath, “I’m–I’m…pregnant. We’re…we’re having kits, big guy.”

Mountain’s jaw drops. “Wh–this…what? Are you–you’re not joking, right? That would be really cruel, please, my heart, tell me it’s not a joke, I need–we’re gonna have kits?”

His immediate excitement changes the air in the room and gives Swiss something…something positive to cling to. Physically he is clinging to Mountain already, but he finds breathing a little easier now.

“We’re gonna have kits,” Swiss confirms. His mate’s heart is pounding and he looks between the multi ghoul and Omega with his mouth agape.

“You’re both in shock right now, and understandably so,” the quintessence ghoul says, “so I’ll let you go and just text Mountain some information. I’d like to see and talk with you both about some important things to consider as soon as you feel up to it, okay? Now off you go, I’m prescribing a good meal and long sleep for both of you.”

Swiss doesn’t really register leaving the infirmary, walking through the Abbey’s corridors and getting back to the Den. Mountain all but carries him all the way, chewing on his own lip; he’s an absolute wreck inside, but has to stay strong for Swiss right now. He’ll give himself to all the emotions later, when his mate is taken care of.

They get to the ghoul’s kitchen and the smell of food makes Swiss realize where he is. It makes another wave of nausea hit him, though, and he only takes a few sips of water Mountain poured him.

“I can’t eat now,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Mountain sighs, rubbing his back as he drinks, “it’s, uh…very stressful right now.”

Swiss nods and empties the glass. He only speaks again when they’re in their bedroom.

“How do we…what about the pack? They’ll notice, how can we–we can’t not tell them.”

“Not now, darling, try not to think so much, let’s try to get some sleep.”

He’d like that—he’s exhausted—but there’s so many things flailing around in his brain; it’s impossible not to think. Swiss doesn’t even notice he starts getting hotter and breathing heavier, but Mountain does; unfortunately familiar with his mate’s panic attacks.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he grabs him with care to get his attention. “I’m scared, too, look at me, darling.”

It’s a little while before the multi ghoul can make eye contact, but once he does the fresh-grass-green of Mountain’s eyes makes him grow calmer and calmer by the second.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters before falling face first into his mate’s chest. He feels so stupid for all of this.

“No, my heart, don’t be,” the earth ghoul reassures. “I told you: I’m scared, too, but we’ll be alright.”

The embrace of Mountain’s strong arms makes Swiss’ exhaustion finally take over and he feels his eyes closing. The earth ghoul manhandles him into a cuddling position and holds him close.

A feeling akin to disgust creeps up on Swiss before he manages to fall asleep, though. It’s that strange sense of dread and wrongness he knows very well. It’s telling him this is all wrong.

Men don’t get pregnant, so it must mean he’s just—still—a girl in a pathetic disguise.

Swiss swallows against the bile rising in his throat, focuses on his mate's heartbeat under his ear and wills himself to fall asleep.

He wakes up calm. He doesn’t have the urge to throw all his guts up—at least at the moment, he doesn’t want to jinx it. He stretches a little and snuggles further into Mountain and–

Oh. It’s not morning and–

That happened.

The multi ghoul tenses up and his hands instinctively clench to grab at his mate. He’s awake and kicks up a purr in an attempt to soothe Swiss a little, “Hey, darling, it’s okay, don’t stress.”

Swiss doesn’t reply, he just takes a deep breath of Mountain’s fresh scent—the smell of the first days of summer. It’s okay.

“Ready to talk?” the earth ghoul asks after a while, when Swiss is fully awake again. He nods, sitting up.

“First of all, uh…I got that text from Omega when you were asleep and he said it’s not too late to…you know,” Swiss’ stomach turns a little at the unsaid part. He appreciates having the choice, but he can’t. “You don’t have to keep them.”

“I want to, I can’t get rid of them! I love them already, they’re our babies,” he admits and the earth ghoul’s chest warms up at the words. “And you got so excited!”

“I, uh…well, yes, I did,” he chuckles nervously. “I've always wanted to have kits and I want nothing more than to have them with you, but you have to be ready. You can't make this decision because of how I feel, it's your body.”

“No, I know, but…” Swiss sighs and drags a hand down his face. He’s so tired. “I want them, I really do.”

“Okay. Well, then, we’ll do our best to keep you safe and comfortable so that their growing spot is all cozy and when they’re here we will be the best parents that they could ever have. Right?”

“Right.” The multi ghoul nods and…that’s it. Their talk is done, their decision is made. Swiss gets a thought, though, “But what if–”

Mountain doesn’t let him finish, cutting him off with a smile on his face. “We’ll worry about ‘what if’s if any show up. Let’s go try to get some food in you now, alright?”

“Okay…” Swiss agrees, even smiling slightly himself. They climb out of bed and put on some presentable clothes to head down to the kitchen. Swiss really doesn’t want to see anyone, so they quickly grab something and all but run back to their room to hide again.

“Do you want to see Omega again today so all the inevitable stress is packed into one day and then you can relax when that’s done?” the earth ghoul asks once the food is gone. Swiss didn’t eat much—his appetite nonexistent the last few days—only nibbled at stuff here and there, but it’s better than nothing.

“Yeah, I think so,” he agrees, so Mountain texts the quintessence ghoul. He asks him to come down to the Den, to have the talk in the comfort of their own space, for Swiss’ sake. Omega, of course, doesn’t mind and is happy to do it like this.

The earth ghoul gets a chair by the bed for him and once settled in it, Omega begins his lecture. “Ghoul pregnancies are really short, only seven months. The kits come out tiny, but they grow rapidly for the next while and at around six months old they slow down and carry on like a one year old human baby would. It makes it more comfortable for a ghoul pregnant with a litter to carry on in the Pits, not be slowed down much and weaker.

However, this can look very differently Topside. This has never happened before and even though I know all about pregnant ghouls and kits in Hell and all about pregnant humans on Earth, I have no idea what to do with you.

What I know for sure is that you need a lot of rest, no weed, alcohol or caffeine. We’ll be meeting once a week to check on both you and your kits. Their elements will be a mystery until they’re born, but it seems like there’s a lot of water to them. I just hope for your sake they won’t take much earth or quintessence, at least not now.”

“Why?” Swiss asks with a frown. He doesn’t want to think about all the other things Omega has just said, it’s all so…scary and so much.

“Because it would be very dangerous for all parties involved if they got as big as a typical earth or quintessence kit,” he explains. The multi ghoul can feel his hand being squeezed by his mate. “At this point we have to be mentally prepared for anything. It’s a miracle and a mystery, anything can happen.”

Swiss and Mountain are quiet, waiting for even more scary information, but the quintessence ghoul stands up and walks to the door. “That’s, uh–I think that’s it. We should make a little group chat for the three of us and keep in contact at all times. Remember my emergency twenty-four seven number, too.”

Omega stops before he crosses the threshold and turns with a slight grimace. “One more thing…as I said, it’s a miracle. I would…wait a bit before announcing it, at least outside of the pack. As hard as it is for me to say, there’s a big chance they won’t live.”

The face Swiss makes at the words is easily the saddest thing both Omega and Mountain had ever seen. The latter brings his mate closer

“I’ll do everything in my power to help you two. Well, all five of you. I want to see those kits born and healthy in your arms,” Omega promises before leaving. The silence that surrounds Mountain and Swiss once the door is shut behind the quintessence ghoul is deafening.

“I asked the pack to give us a few days to process,” Mountain says to break it. “I didn’t say what, but you know them, nobody’s prying. They respect our need for space.”

Swiss nods and turns to bury his face in his mate’s neck.

“How about we go to the cabin for a few days?” the earth ghoul offers. “A nice week off just for us to think and relax, hm?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Swiss admits and even musters up a soft little smile. Mountain can’t see it but he knows exactly how a smile against his neck feels with his mate’s stubble.

“We’ll be alright, my heart,” he whispers into his ear, “all five of us, we’ll have a little family. Everything will be okay, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Swiss mumbles and shuts his eyes. His hand instinctively goes to his stomach—he’s been feeling the urge to protect it for the last few weeks, but it makes sense only now.

Mountain looks at Swiss’ hand splaying over his little bump and smiles; it’s all terribly scary, but he’s so excited and happy and proud at the same time. He puts his own hand over his mate’s and nuzzles his face into his hair.

They’ll be alright.

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Hidden embers

Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Tensions rise during a church fundraiser, unexpected closeness with Joel begins to blur the lines between what’s right and wrong.

A/N: It took me so long to post this, school has been killing me lately, my sincerest apologies. This is a fun little chapter, wrote it a while back. I’m currently writing chapter 4 and I can’t wait for you guys to read that one. I hope you enjoy this 🤍

Warnings: No outbreak AU, Age gap, DBF!Joel, some accidental physical contact lol

Series masterlist

Two days after the barbeque, you’re woken up by the gentle touch of your dad stroking your hair.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he says almost in a whisper

You squint at the clock on your nightstand, its red numbers flashing in the dim morning light. The faint glow through your curtains barely illuminates your dad’s face. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, kiddo. Just wanted to let you know I’m off to that church fundraiser we told you about. They need me and Joel to help with setting up lights and whatnot. Didn’t know if you’d wanna come”

You groan, rolling onto your back and closing your eyes. “Dad, it's 6:30 a.m on a Sunday. The only thing I wanna do right now is burrow myself in this bed for at least three more hours.”

He chuckles softly, standing up from where he was crouching next to your bed. “Alright, you’ll have to help your mom with the baking then. She’s gonna be selling all those pastries today and I bet she could use a sous-chef”

Before he can make it any closer to the door, you sit up in your bed and rub your eyes “I’m up. Be down in 5”

You cradle a hot cup of coffee to your chest, the summer heat creeping in very slowly this early in the morning. Your first stop is Joel’s house and even the struggle to keep your eyes open doesn’t distract you from the nervous flutter in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

You've been doing mental gymnastics, trying your damn hardest to keep your mind off of him, convincing yourself this is just a silly fixation and will pass as soon as you get used to seeing him around. Just push through it, and eventually, your heart will get the memo.

Your dad pulls up to his driveway and parks right next to his truck. The front door is in your direct line of sight when Joel opens it, carrying a couple boxes and a toolbelt slung over his shoulder. You have to make a conscious effort to not stare at his arms, at how big they get whenever he carries heavy things around—that proves to be a lot harder when he’s walking in a straight line towards you.

Thankfully, your dad gets out of the car to help, sparing you from further gawking. You hear him ask if there are any boxes left inside and from the way he heads back towards the house, you guess the answer is yes.You roll your window down to ask if he needs any help just as those strong arms you were trying to ignore rest themselves on the window frame.

“You didn’t strike me as an early bird.” Joel says, his eyes now leveled with yours, much closer than you had been two days ago.

Your cheeks betray you, flushing a shade of red that now feels reserved for him. “Do I strike you as my mom’s baking assistant for the entire day?” you retort, a grin sneaking onto your face.

You’d be lying through your teeth if you said you weren’t trying to earn another one of those earth shattering chuckles with your comment. Turns out you’re pretty good at it, because a second later he’s dropping his head, a low rumbly chuckle escaping him. “I reckon you don’t.”

His eyes come back up to meet yours, holding for a beat longer than they probably should, like he’s giving you one more tiny bread crumb to follow the trail, to figure out the riddle. Or maybe you’re just losing your mind, which is entirely possible.

Just when the tension between you two is about to reach a breaking point, your dad reappears with more boxes.

“A little help, pal? It wouldn’t kill ya,” he calls out, breaking the spell.

As your dad parks the car in front of the church, you spot Mrs. Calloway, the lively old lady you spoke to at the barbecue, waving energetically. The early morning sun casts long shadows across the church’s lawn, the air carrying the faint smell of freshly-cut grass.

“Oh good, you’re here!” she greets the three of you as you step out of the car.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Calloway. How’s the day treatin’ you?” your dad asks, hauling open the truck's tailgate.

“Oh, busy, so much to do. I see you brought me an extra pair of hands here,” she says, sidling up to you and giving your arm a friendly squeeze.

“Yeah, he was very convincing, couldn’t refuse the invite,” you reply with a polite smile. You've taken a real liking to Mrs. Calloway. She never talks about your parents when she chats with you. Instead, she asks about your life or shares stories about her cats—which is a refreshing change of pace.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t, pumpkin. I have a bunch of decorations to put up inside.” She leans in closer and half-whispers, “And for all their virtues, I wouldn’t trust these ones with decorating if it was my last day on earth.”

You can’t help but giggle just as a voice comes from the back of the truck. “Heard that.”

You turn to see Joel balancing a couple boxes with practiced ease “Is she wrong?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

He grins, shaking his head. “No, she’s very right.”

“Oh, Joel could help you out” Mrs. Calloway suggests. “There are some pretty big containers stuffed in the back of the storage room with everything you’ll need. Why don’t you go grab them while we start setting up the tables out here?”

“You got it,” you say, trying to wave away the thought of being alone with Joel again.

You walk into the church with Joel trailing just behind, his presence is a comforting warmth against the cool morning air. The quiet of the church envelops you both, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly. You spot a door in the back corner “That’s the one?”

“That’s the one.” Joel confirms, taking the lead as you reach the storage room.

Inside, you find a mountain of containers piled up against the wall, with big brown boxes and plastic bags teetering on top.

“So, how many of these do we need?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself from how close he is.

“Just a couple to start with,” Joel replies, handing you one of the containers. “We’ll come back if we need more.”

You both carry the containers out of the storage room, the clatter of plastic echoing through the empty church hall.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Joel says, setting his container down and opening it. You follow suit, pulling out strings of lights, banners, and a variety of festive decorations.

“I didn’t think we’d be doing arts and crafts today,” you joke, unfurling a particularly colorful garland.

Joel smiles. “Yeah, not exactly my forte, but we’ll make it work.”

You pick a banner out of the container, large enough to hang from one column to the other, and spot metal hooks screwed all the way up—clearly where it’s meant to go.

You notice a small ladder pushed against a corner and leave Joel’s side to fetch it.

He only seems to notice what you’re up to once he hears the ladder scraping against the column

“Leave it, I'll take care of that.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’m not a lady in distress, I can hang up a banner on my own, Joel.” You reply stepping up on the ladder trying to test out its stability with a little bounce

“I know you can darlin’, but I’d rather do it myself. That ladder—”

“The ladder is fine, Joel. Go back to untangling those lights.” You’re not quite sure what you’re trying to prove – maybe this was an attempt at stripping away that childish image he had of you.

He disregards your comment and walks right to your side, his hands slightly stretched out like he's preparing to catch you.

“You’re being so dramatic,” you say climbing to the highest point of the ladder.

Sure, it’s old but if it held up this long it could hold for a little bit longer. “See? I’m just fine, I just gotta hook this up here…”

As if on cue, the ladder starts creaking ominously just as you stretch your arm out to reach the hook. Not half a second later, the rusty metal piece that was holding all your weight up snaps and Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you safely against his chest.

For the second time that day, you could say that was the closest to Joel you’ve ever been. His face just inches away from yours, both arms holding you securely, the woody, musky scent your brain had labeled as uniquely his, overwhelming your senses.

Words failed you as you stared into those deep brown eyes, and every part of you wanted to believe it was just the shock of the fall, but it was getting harder and harder to keep shamelessly lying to yourself.

When he finally breaks the silence, it’s pretty much a lost battle. “Will you stop being so stubborn and let me help you now?”

“Favorite color”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Joel chuckles once again, and at this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve pulled that off. With Joel Miller, even a small chuckle feels like a major accomplishment.

After spending the entire morning decorating the inside of the church (most of which you spent explaining to him he couldn’t mix the red decorations with the green ones because it wasn’t christmas), you were both assigned raffle duty. You sold the tickets and Joel put them in the big raffle draw, using the lever to mix them up as he went.

The two of you sat behind a little stand, and in your best attempt to hear as much as you could of that sweet, caramel-y drawl, you convinced him to play twenty-questions. Each of you took turns asking the other whatever popped into your heads, and the other had to answer honestly.

Your questions ranged from what animal he would choose to turn into if he could shapeshift at will, to his favorite subjects back in high school, and even who in your family he would take to a deserted island if he knew he’d have to partner up to make it out alive. (He picked you, obviously. Your dad was terrible at functioning in high pressure situations). His questions on the other hand had been generic at best, deadly boring at worst.

You leaned back in your chair, the wooden slats creaking under your weight, and gave him a playful glare.

“You said any question that popped into my head,” he defends himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh and you’re dying to know my favorite color, are you?” you ask back, dripping with sarcasm.

“I’ll lose sleep over it if you don’t tell me” his voice gets low and serious in complete contrast to how ridiculous his statement is.

“Blue,” you admit, “but not the default shade of blue everyone thinks of, more like a ‘clear water lake’ kind of blue” you look back at him and he just kind of stares, like he's too distracted by you to even register the answer to his question. “What’s your’s?” you ask, pulling him out of his trance.

“Brown.”

You laugh at his answer.

“Something funny?” he asks

“Only you, Joel Miller, would have brown as your favorite color.”

“It’s a perfectly normal favorite color.” He says defensively, a little frown creasing his features.

“Joel, it’s the most boring of colors, it’s not even a color in itself, it's all the colors mushed together.” you giggle at the absurdity of the conversation, leaning in closer, enjoying the banter more than you care to admit.

“It’s practical, goes well with everything, looks good in any house—an easy, simple color.”

“But your favorite color isn’t supposed to be about practicality, it’s supposed to be about which one you like the most.” You argue back.

“You tryna tell me how to pick my own favorite color, kid?” he teases you, receiving only a death stare in return.The warmth in his eyes makes your heart skip. “Fine, it’s green.”

“See? That's a normal favorite color”

“Yeah, and you’re a piece a’ work.” he mutters, shaking his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips that tells you he’s enjoying this as much as you are.

Just like that, Joel Miller makes the rest of the day easy to get through. Even with the awkward feeling of being an outsider, looking through a window into a room full of people who’ve known each other their whole lives, he manages to ground you. He’s either pulling you into senseless conversation or letting you bask in a comfortable silence, and both feel like a lifeline.

By the end of the day, you walk around helping Ms. Calloway clear out the tables, throw all the empty cups and disposable plates into a trash back and group up the chairs so your dad can take them back inside.

During one of your ‘picking up leftover trash’ rounds, you see your mom standing next to Joel’s truck. He’s right beside her loadingback up the tools he’d brought with him this morning. You knew Joel was a lot colder and closed off with other people—that's what earned him his grump reputation in the first place—but in the short time you’ve been around him since you came back, you’ve never seen him be so stiff around anyone like he is with your mom.

That is certainly a rare sight, given your mom was one to charm any and everyone who crossed her path. Pageant queen, cheerleader, hair larger than life type—your mom is a sight for sore eyes, even you have to admit that. It was hard to engage in conversation with her and not be dazzled by her looks and also by her bubbly personality, or the persona she put on for others at least. It almost seemed like she hadn’t been told no once in her entire life.

But Joel seemed immune to it, no warm smile on his face, no polite small talk, not even gentleman-like behavior beyond the strictly necessary. In fact, something in his face told you he couldn’t wait to get on his truck and leave. He stands with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, every line of his body screaming discomfort.

You watch the two of them from a distance, your mom batting her eyelashes up at him, her body leaning towards him slightly, trying to close the gap he’s so obviously desperate to maintain. Meanwhile, Joel looks like he’s doing everything in his power to keep his distance, stepping closer and closer to his truck’s tailgate. His jaw is set like stone, eyes flicking to the side as if searching for an escape route, and you can almost see the tension radiating off him in waves.

Your mom leans in closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thinks is a conspiratorial whisper. Even from a distance, you can see Joel’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something like annoyance passing over his face before he schools his expression back to neutral.

An unshakable uneasiness tugs at your chest that won't allow you to walk away, against your best instincts you decide to barge in.

“Hey, Mom!” you chirp, sliding right up next to Joel. “I think Mrs. Calloway is looking for you. Something about the pies?”

Your mom turns to you with a bright smile, though there’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that’s hard to miss. “Oh, I’m sure she can manage without me for a moment,” she says, but you can tell she’s not thrilled about being interrupted.

Joel gives you a grateful look, his eyes meeting yours with a silent thanks. You catch a slight relaxation in his shoulders, like he’s the one being thrown a lifeline this time.

“Actually, Mom, she seemed really insistent,” you retort, trying to sell the urgency of the situation. “You know… with the wrapping things up and all.”

Your mom hesitates, her gaze flicking between you and Joel. Finally, she relents with a sigh, though the look she gives you says this conversation is far from over. “Alright, I’ll go see what she needs. But we’re not done talking about this, Joel,” she says, her voice carrying an edge that makes your skin crawl, before turning on her heel and striding away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Joel exhales a long breath. He extends you one more polite nod and jumps into the truck without another word. You don’t like the feeling it gives you, not one bit.

Before you can dwell too much in your thoughts, you hear your mom’s voice calling your name, and you turn to see her motioning for you to join her. Here comes the earful.

With a resigned sigh, you make your way over to her, bracing for the inevitable.

“Sweetheart,” she begins in a voice that’s both sugar and vinegar, “you really shouldn’t interrupt when adults are talking. It’s important to know your place.”

You nod, biting back the retort on the tip of your tongue. “I know, Mom. I just thought you might want to check on Mrs. Calloway.”

She narrows her eyes, as if trying to read your mind. “If you go around behaving like a heathen, it reflects poorly on me. You’d do well to remember that.”

You stare back at her, head high and an unfaltering cool facade. She used to intimidate you, this tone used to make you feel so small and insignificant, but it doesn’t anymore. Hasn’t for a good while now. “Got it,” you reply, forcing a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[maislovebot]

I love you in the worst way

Atsushi x reader x Akutagawa 3some

My motivation is finally back in full swing!! Please feel free to leave a request or two:3 This is my first time writing a threesome, please be gentle with me:’)

Contains: afab reader, they/them prns, slight sskk towards the end, no use of y/n, slight angst, implied hurt comfort, threesome, foreplay, spit roasting/dp, missionary, oral (everyone receiving), reader gets eaten out TWICE!! How spoiled, Atsu eats it from the back to eat Aku’s cum out of you, oral fixation, established relationship (Atsu & reader), Akutagawa has a crush on reader, jealousy, competitive Atsu & Aku, unprotected, multiple orgasms, overstim, like really, the reader has to stop because it’s too much, squirting, premature ejaculation, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, throat-fucking, aftercare, open ending

You and Atsushi are in a very dedicated relationship. Atsushi can’t imagine what his life would be like without you, and his self doubt would typically stop him from doing anything like this ever, but, something about this offer was too alluring.

You and Atsushi had a very fulfilling sex life, he was always so attentive and sweet. He was always touching you in a way he knew you liked, oftentimes putting your pleasure before his. But this was certainly new. Never would Atsushi have guessed you would have a threesome, with Akutagawa no less. At the beginning of your relationship, you and Atsushi both made it clear that threesomes were fine as occasional ways to spice things up, but you two hadn’t gotten around to doing it yet. He especially didn’t expect it to be with Akutagawa of all people. In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure how he got here. But however it happened, it was shockingly nice.

Sure, Atsushi was feeling a little insecure, but it was strangely attractive watching you get fucked by someone else, and he could tell how enjoyable this was for the both of you. You seemed to enjoy the change of pace, so he was willing to set himself aside.

Akutagawa was currently between your thighs, eating you out with absolutely zero shame. He gripped your hips to pull you closer to his mouth, pumping his delicate fingers to prep you. Your head lay on Atsushi’s lap as he looked right into your eyes to help calm your nerves. It was obvious that you were a little nervous, and Akutagawa can tell too based off of the way you subconsciously shut your thighs, trying to shut him out.

“Open your legs.” Akutagawa's attempt at dirty talk was honestly a little cute, considering how blunt it was.

You did as he asked, opening your legs enough for his head to fit nicely between them. He licked a stripe up your cunt, and glanced up at Atsushi again, reaching your hand up to play with his hair.

Akutagawa didn’t like that.

He’s the one pleasing you, right? Atsushi’s just giving the orders. Akutagawa dug his nails into your thighs to make you pay attention to him and Atsushi glared at him.

“Don’t do that. You’re lucky I’m even letting you in our bed.”

Akutagawa rolled his eyes, but loosened his grip on you. Akutagawa prodded his tongue at your entrance, past your tight walls, using his fingers to thumb at your clit instead. You whimpered at his actions, gripping his hair. Akutagawa liked how you grabbed his hair. He moaned into your cunt, and as a form of support, you lifted your hand up to hold Atsushi’s. Akutagawa still had a firm enough grip to hold you against his face, his head spreading your thighs further as he forced his tongue as deep as it could go. You whimpered again, wrapping your thighs around Akutagawa's head. You could feel yourself getting closer, and you held Atsushi’s hand tighter to stabilize yourself. Again, Akutagawa didn’t like that. He lifted his hand up, grabbing yours as it lay atop his head.

“If you wanna grab something, grab my hair. Don’t hold him.”

You didn’t wanna make Atsushi jealous, but you also didn’t want to feel the wrath of Akutagawa when he’s upset, already dealing with that enough when Atsushi complains to you about Akutagawa after work. You settled for both, holding Atsushi’s hand tight and pulling on Akutagawa's hair, forcing him closer to your dripping pussy.

When Akutagawa pushed his tongue as deep as it could go, you saw stars. He was different from Atsushi, as he was much less gentle. Even when Atsushi got pussy-drunk, he was still attentive. If anything, he became more focused on you. Akutagawa was mean with it, pinching your clit in a way that made you cry out.

“A-Akutagawa, please!”

Akutagawa moved his teeth to nibble on your clit, defying you completely. The stimulation was enough to drive you over the edge, and you came, your cum dripping onto the bed.

“Akutagawa. Don’t hurt them.”

Akutagawa sighed, pulling himself away from your cunt.

“They liked it. What’s the deal?”

“It’s just..I hate seeing them..like that.”

They both looked at you, expecting an answer, but you were still recovering from your orgasm, breathing heavily as the grip on Atsushi’s hand loosened as the tension in your body slowly got relieved. They both sat there, allowing you to calm down from your high. Once you did, you completely disregarded all their questions, clearly not looking forward to giving an answer.

“I need you both..I agree with the both of you. I like how Atsushi treats me so nice, even when he’s being rough with me, but I also like how mean Akutagawa is.”

They both sat in silence, agreeing to go with what you said.

“Understood. But refer to me as Ryunosuke. We’re having sex, I think we’re close enough to go by my first name.” Akutagawa said, going over to you to brush some hair out of your face from your disheveled form.

“Alright..Ryu.”

‘Ryu?’ Atsushi thought. You always call him Atsu. He wasn’t fond of the nickname, especially how similar it was to his. Nevertheless, he bit his tongue to make you happy.

Akutagawa, on the other hand, may have not shown much emotion besides slight confusion from the new nickname, but inside he was ecstatic. It was almost like you two were together.

Atsushi lifted you up, getting you on all fours.

“You wanted both of us, right? Is this what you meant?” You understood his implication, turning away from the embarrassment, but still nodding.

Wordlessly, Akutagawa went behind you. Atsushi wasn’t fond of the fact Akutagawa wanted to take you first, but he bit his tongue again. His patience was running thin, but he could tell you were enjoying it, so he decided to push his feelings down and look at the bright side. At least he’d be the first to feel your mouth around him, and this knowledge made Atsushi smile. He sat up and began to sit in front of your face, leaning forward to kiss you before pulling away and looking at Akutagawa.

“You’re lucky we have no protection on us, but you better pull out.” Atsushi warned.

Akutagawa nodded half heartedly, slowly aligning himself with your entrance. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to adjust to Akutagawa because of his shockingly similar size to Atsushi, who you’d grown accustomed to.

Atsushi still looked hesitant, worrying that taking him and Akutagawa may be too much. You, on the other hand, pushed your face forward to take Atsushi. He felt weak in the knees at your pleading face, so needy. He got the message, and he moaned when your lips closed in around his tip. Akutagawa noticed Atsushi was inside of you, and quickly pushed in the rest of the way to make you focus on him, and Atsushi glared, giving Akutagawa a ‘be nice’ look.

Akutagawa got the message, but chose to ignore it. He pulled out to the tip, then slammed back inside of you, making you moan around Atsushi’s cock, and the vibrations made Atsushi buck his hips into your mouth. Atsushi was trying to be nice, but you were so addicting. You started with kitten licks to Atsushi’s cock, and Akutagawa gripped your hair, rather gently all things considered. He leaned over you to kiss your neck and left small licks to it.

You groaned at Akutagawa’s actions, taking more of Atsushi in your mouth. Atsushi froze, pleasure overtaking him as you hollow your cheeks, giving Atsushi more stimulation. Atsushi whimpered with a high pitched sound, bucking his hips further into your mouth, making you take him deeper. You let out a choked sound and Atsushi almost pulled away, until you gripped on his thigh, giving him a pleading look. Atsushi understood, whimpering as you licked along the underside of his cock, before you were quickly brought back to Akutagawa as he smacked your thigh.

“Why won’t you pay attention to me? It’s like you’re not even feeling me.”

“I am..I just want to make sure Atsu has a good time, too.”

Akutagawa glared at him. This would’ve been so much better if he could’ve had you all to himself. It’s such a shame Atsushi got to you before he could.

Akutagawa sped up his movements, making sure you were paying close attention to him. He couldn’t go crazy fast because of his bad health, but he went so hard you could feel every movement inside of you. You let out a muffled whine, your mouth closing in on Atsushi more. Akutagawa lifted his hand up to your clit, and you could almost cry. It was so much. He kept thrusting into you, keeping a grip on your hair. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt, but it was surely giving you a message, the message being: ‘don’t you dare look at that weretiger when I’m right here.’

Akutagawa rubbed circles on your clit, the pressure made your knees buckle and lose your balance. Luckily, Atsushi was there to catch you to the best of his abilities considering his angle.

“Mnn, Ryu–feels good,” you babbled out.

Akutagawa could feel himself nearing his edge at your praise, and it embarrassed him how much your enjoyment meant to him. It was strange how much he cared about your happiness, as he only really associates servitude with Dazai. He wanted to please Dazai no matter the cost, even though it dragged him down an absurd amount. He knew the way Dazai treated him was hurting him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop pining after Dazai’s approval. And despite all this, you were able to bring out a different kind of search for approval. It wasn’t like with Dazai how he wanted to prove himself purely so he could sleep at night, and because he felt like he had to try and prove himself whenever he could. He wanted to help you purely because he cared about you and it made him feel good, and the feeling was addicting. He just wanted more, more, more. All he wanted was to make you happy, to please you, to make you cum, hold you close, and–

Before he had even realized it he had started crying. He was still thrusting inside of you, but his vision was bubbly with tears and he couldn’t tell why; he wasn’t the most in tune with his emotions after all.

Luckily, after all those years of torment, he had learnt to cry completely silently, as God knows what would happen to him if Dazai caught him crying. The only person who could see Akutagawa’s face was Atsushi, and he was preoccupied with your mouth.

“I’m c-close,” Akutagawa mumbled. It was expected for him to cum much faster than you two considering his health and his lack of experience, and he expected you to judge him for it, but all you did was nod and pick up the pace with Atsushi. Atsushi was also rather sensitive, and he cried out when you started to suction on his cock even more than before. So warm, so welcoming. Akutagawa came, unable to pull out due to his hypersensitivity. Atsushi followed quickly after. Atsushi pulled out to cum into his hand, as even after all the time you two have had sex, he’d always be too embarrassed to cum on your face or in your mouth.

“So good, both of you, you–”

“Hey, you didn’t cum. I think Akutagawa should keep going.”

How the hell could Atsushi tell? He wasn’t even the one fucking you.

It made Akutagawa jealous. Why was Atsushi allowed to know so much about you, but he wasn’t? They both had similar backgrounds, so why choose him? Why not me? Akutagawa thought. It upset Akutagawa to know that Atsushi knew you better than he ever will.

Nonetheless, Akutagawa followed Atsushi’s orders, not wanting to leave you without orgasm. He moved his hand up, teasing at your hole and rubbing his thumb over your clit.

“Why couldn’t I get you to come?”

“It’s not something you did, don’t blame yourself. Just prove you can make me cum now.”

Your understanding nature never failed to make Akutagawa weak in the knees. It was so simple, you were just kind to him. You didn’t expect the world out of him, and it drove him crazy.

He pushed a finger inside of your cunt, curling it up towards your g-spot as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. Atsushi watched, and as jealous as he was, he couldn’t deny how hot it was to watch you whimper and whine and arch your back from a different point of view. It was so hot and he couldn’t even tell why.

You arched your back more as Akutagawa added in a second finger, thrusting in and out, in and out. He had slowed down his actions significantly, and it didn’t take long for you to come on his fingers. As you came you let out a loud moan and you curled your fingers into the bedsheets, lifting your ass higher in the air.

You panted gently, and Atsushi pet your hair to calm you down. That was until he had processed what really happened. Akutagawa had actually come inside of you. You didn’t seem to mind all that much, but it made Atsushi incredibly jealous. He wordlessly stood up, walking behind you and pushing Akutagawa out of the way. He saw Akutagawa’s cum dripping out of you, and immediately licked it up from your filled cunt, making you spasm and lose balance on the bed. Akutagawa wordlessly stood there, staring at the erotic sight before him. Something about seeing Atsushi lick up his cum was so. hot.

“A-Atsu! Sensitive!”

“I know, if it’s too much just tell me.”

You whined and nodded, your face pushing into the bed as you tried to balance yourself. Atsushi feverishly sucked at your folds, licking all of Akutagawa’s cum from your cunt. Once it was all cleaned up, he thrusted his tongue inside of your twitching hole, attempting to force Akutagawa’s cum out of you.

Akutagawa stood there, staring at your cunt and Atsushi’s mouth. He was practically drooling at the sight, your arms trembling and trying to hold yourself up as you teared up, loud moans and whines leaving your lips. Atsushi thrusted his tongue inside of you, trying to get as much of Akutagawa’s cum out of you as he could. It was so overstimulating, all you could do was sit there and focus on keeping enough strength in your legs to not topple over. The sheer overstimulation was almost too much to handle.

Considering how you had just cum, it didn’t take long to get there again. You tightened on Atsushi’s tongue, pushing his tongue outside of you, forcing him to fuck his tongue deeper inside of you. You came with a loud whimper and a tighter grip on the sheets, and Atsushi left a kiss on your lower back as he pulled away from you.

“I think it’s mostly gone now. Don’t you dare do that again.” Atsushi said, his mannerisms much more sly than what was typical for him. He glanced over at Akutagawa, almost rolling his eyes at how hard he was again.

“Let’s switch things up, alright Akutagawa? Unless you’re too tired..”

You almost chuckled at how petty Atsushi was acting, it was so strange coming from him.

“Atsu? Are you jealous?”

Atsushi stiffened, his grip on your thighs tightening.

“Maybe, although I don’t think Akutagawa is all that different.”

Atsushi looked at Akutagawa expectantly, and he simply shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

By this point, Atsushi was teasing his tip towards your entrance. Akutagawa was sitting in front of you, staring at the way your back arched.

You gripped Akutagawa’s thigh, gently urging him to come closer to you for easier access. He was curious as to how you gave head, and based on Atsushi’s reactions, he knew it’d be more than pleasant. Not to mention it was you giving him head. He honestly thought you could do anything and he’d be satisfied.

Akutagawa rested a hand in your hair, pulling your head up to the head of his cock.

“Ryu?”

You called him ‘Ryu’ again. Atsushi felt another pang of jealousy, and as gentle as he wanted to be with you, considering how you were so overstimulated your legs were barely holding you up, but he couldn’t help but push into you the rest of the way in one thrust to bring your attention back to him. You yelped, letting go of Akutagawa’s thigh and instead whimpering and shutting your eyes tight.

“Sorry, Ryu. Here..”

You turned your head up, gently gripping Akutagawa’s cock and licking at his tip, jerking off the rest of his cock.

Now, Atsushi wasn’t a particularly jealous person; he was more insecure and vaguely possessive than anything, but seeing you trying your hardest to focus on Akutagawa instead of him, your boyfriend, he couldn’t help it. Atsushi pulled out to the tip and left one quick thrust in, making you let out a choked cry. It worked. You were still trying to pay attention to Akutagawa, but it was hard with how Atsushi was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow and running circles on your clit. It hurt so good.

Atsushi decided to do what Akutagawa had done earlier, pinching your clit. Akutagawa certainly wasn’t going slow either, gripping your hair and forcing you back and forth on his cock, and in all honesty, you weren’t doing much work at all. You mainly just rocked back and forth from Atsushi and Akutagawa’s out of sync thrusts.

Akutagawa was already close to cumming, and he was a little embarrassed. Curse his bad health. You knew he was close because he kept twitching inside of your mouth, and you gently scratched Akutagawa’s thighs in need of air. You were so tired and you felt used up, but regardless, you stuck it out in hopes of pleasing the both of them.

Akutagawa quickly came down your throat, and he tasted shockingly pleasant. You still thought Atsushi tasted better though. No one could quite beat the sweet taste of his cum.

Akutagawa stopped pulling your hair, slowly loosening his grip on it as he pulled out of your mouth. He felt so overstimulated, and he couldn’t even imagine how you must’ve felt. As far as he knew, you’d come three times already.

Atsushi wasn’t quite there yet, and although you were teetering on the edge, you knew it’d take at least a few minutes to build up that final sensation.

As a form of comfort, Akutagawa lifted your head again and left a kiss to the top of your head, running his fingers through your disheveled hair. He twirled what he could around his finger, admiring the look of if. The tender actions caught you off guard, and you melted into his touch as Atsushi kept going at it. You laid your head on Akutagawa’s lap as he played with your hair. It was a nice offset from Atsushi’s harsh treatment of your spent cunt.

Atsushi didn’t like that.

He was supposed to be the one to play with your hair and kiss the top of your head and comfort you through your absolute mind breaking orgasm, not him. Not Akutagawa.

Without warning, he switched your guys’ position around to where you two were facing each other in missionary. He kept thrusting into you mercilessly, rubbing your clit and kissing the sides of your face and licking along your neck, leaving small, delicate licks.

His general goal of switching your positions was to make you stop looking at Akutagawa, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t because he simply preferred it that way. He liked looking at your face. It reassured him. He especially loved looking at your eyes.

And by God, was it worth it. He spread you out on your back, and he was met with the sight of your back arching up into his abdomen, pressing up into his waist. Your eyes were shut tightly, your throat rubbed raw from the loud moans you kept letting out. He loved the way your moans heightened in pitch as you kept letting them leave your throat. You kept shaking your head back and forth as you gripped your bed sheets, your thighs tensing and relaxing in a strange, off balance rhythm.

You moved your hands up to Atsushi’s back, raking your fingers down his back, making Atsushi hiss. Akutagawa saw the way you left white and red lines down Atsushi’s back, and he couldn’t help but feel turned on from the sight. He would do anything to have you scratch his back the way you were doing to him. You felt yourself crashing over the edge, and you ended up squirting all over Atsushi’s abdomen from the sheer stimulation. Akutagawa was stunned. The sight was the most erotic thing he had ever seen, and he wasn’t even the one parking in it. He felt so jealous, it was driving him crazy. Why couldn’t he be the one to do that to you?

The sight of your chest heaving from your orgasm driving the both of them crazy. He kept thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm like a rabid animal. You moaned loudly as he kept going, the entire sight was breathtaking, so much so that he had practically forgotten Akutagawa was even there. Nothing else mattered, just him and you.

That was until you gently pulled on Atsushi’s hair.

“Too much..Atsushi..!”

You were cut off by one of your own moans, and you quickly yelped out as Atsushi pinched your clit yet again.

“Atsushi! Too much!”

He stopped in his tracks, wordlessly removing his hand from your clit and letting go of your hair, pulling out of you slowly.

“G-God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got to me—” Atsushi kept rambling on, trying to get you to forgive him for taking it too far, when you weren’t even upset with him. He was begging for your forgiveness before you had even gotten a chance to breathe. You loved him for his worried nature, finding it rather endearing, but you were worried he thought you were genuinely upset with him over what was obviously a total accident.

“Atsu, it’s fine. Trust me. Just lay down next to me..”

Atsushi nodded, holding you close. That was when Atsushi suddenly remembered Akutagawa was there, you had remembered as well, but you were too tired to even look up to see him. When Atsushi glanced over at Akutagawa, he was met by a somewhat lonely, but also surprisingly proud look? Atsushi had realized Akutagawa was proud of the fact he wasn’t the one who went too far, the fact that Atsushi was the one who couldn’t hold himself back. Atsushi rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to you. You buried your face into Atsushi’s chest, waiting for the string of worried questions bound to come any moment.

“When did I go too far? What did I do that made it too much? …” by the time he made it to the third question you were zoning out, and you simply placed a finger over Atsushi’s lips. He shut up, with a mumbled “I promise I’ll make it up to you..” leaving his lips.

“Ryu? Come over here..” you whispered, and he wordlessly obeyed, sitting against the headboard and gazing at you as you turned over to your back so you could look at both of them. Atsushi laid up on the headboard as well, and he checked to see if you had any bruises anywhere on your upper body, rubbing and petting any spots that tensed up when he touched them. That’s when Akutagawa had noticed the two small red scars on Atsushi’s stomach, and he questioned what they were. They looked like burn marks, but he wasn’t going to bother to ask. Not in this mood. That’s when Atsushi looked up, and saw Akutagawa’s jealous bitter face. He looked at Akutagawa quizzically for a few moments, trying to read him, before inevitably giving up.

What was going through Akutagawa’s head consisted of: ‘why were you all over that Jinko even after he went too far? Why not me? I’d never do that to you. I’d never take it too far.’ Amongst many other similar things.

You two kept sitting there for a few moments, Atsushi gently massaging all the tense spots, before Akutagawa gained the confidence to move over and rub small, soothing circles into your hips. Atsushi momentarily glared at Akutagawa, before turning his attention back to you, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. You left a tender smile, and the both of them went crazy for that smile. That smile that they loved. Atsushi was so lucky to get to see that smile every day, Akutagawa thought.

Akutagawa wanted to go on a long rant about how he could treat you so much better, how he was clearly superior to that ‘damn weretiger’ in every way, but he refrained, instead choosing to volunteer to clean your bed sheets and get you a glass of water. You would’ve normally told Akutagawa that he’s the guest, and he shouldn’t have to do that, but you and Atsushi needed a moment alone. Akutagawa seemed to understand this, standing up and exiting the room in what seemed like haste. You and Atsushi laid there for a few moments, your head in his lap, similar to the beginning of the night.

“I’m so, so sorry I went too far..you were right, I was just jealous. You were paying so much more attention to Akutagawa for a minute there and..” you placed a finger over his lips again, turning yourself to face him.

“I only did that because he’s our guest, Atsushi. You’re my man, not him.”

“You even had a nickname for him though..! I know it’s dumb but that’s what really got me going.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Do you know how long his first name is? I didn’t wanna have to say the whole thing every time I said his name. It was awkward.”

Atsushi’s lips opened up slightly in understanding, everything making a little more sense. He smiled slightly, feeling a little dumb at how he completely misread the situation.

You tried to lift yourself so you could straddle Atsushi, but your legs were still far too shaky so he helped you get on top of him. Once you were on top of him you tenderly kissed his neck and shoulders, eventually leading to the top of his head. Atsushi chuckled, leaning into your touch as you two laid there, basking in each other's presence.

After a few moments, you mumbled some form of apology. You were so quiet he couldn’t make out what you were saying.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry that..” you started mumbling again.

“I can’t tell what you’re saying,” Atsushi chuckled, “what is it?”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to cum.” You said, a little embarrassed if anything.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I still got to.”

“Not towards the end though. I sort of cut you off.”

Atsushi nestled his face in your hair, smiling into the crown of your head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You nodded, a comfortable silence filling the room.

Little did you guys know that Akutagawa was standing outside your door and heard everything. He felt a pang in his heart from the indirect rejection, but he knew deep down that this was how it would go. You were so in love with him, he could never compare. He knew you loving him was a long shot, especially considering that it meant leaving Atsushi, who you were clearly happy with. He sat there for a few more moments, before wandering off to get you the water and clean the sheets like he promised. He silently entered the bedroom, with a glass of water and bedsheets in hand. You thanked Akutagawa for the glass of water, before drinking it so fast you broke into a small coughing fit and Atsushi giggled. Akutagawa would’ve as well, but his mind was currently occupied.

Atsushi brought up the conversation of a bath, and he picked you up when you nodded.

“You can join if you want, Akutagawa. It might be a tight fit, though.” Atsushi chuckled.

“No, I'll get in after. I don’t want to intrude.”

In reality, Akutagawa would’ve killed to join, but he had to sort his feelings out.

Atsushi nodded, looking skeptical. You buried your face in Atsushi’s chest, arms wrapping around his neck. You smiled into Atsushi’s chest at his tone, as it was obvious he was no longer jealous. It makes you happy as you tighten your grip on him. It was clear from Atsushi’s tone of voice that he wasn’t jealous anymore, if anything he seemed sufficiently more friendly with Akutagawa.

You and Atsushi exit the bath, feeling refreshed and certainly feeling cleaner. You sighed in contentment, capable of standing on your own now as you both exited the bath.

“There’s still hot water, if you wanna get in.

We tried to be fast, sorry.” You said, smiling at him. God, that smile.

Akutagawa nodded, heading towards the bathroom, the t-shirt he presumably put on while you were showering hiding his frame.

Atsushi laid you out on the bed, spooning you and holding you close.

Akutagawa’s shower was quick, as to be expected. Once he re-entered your bedroom, he looked over and saw you sleeping peacefully, and Atsushi looking at you with a small, content smile.

“Hey, Akutagawa. You can lay here with us if you want. It would be rude to just send you home.”

Atsushi leaned down and left a gentle kiss to the back of your head, awaiting an answer.

Akutagawa knew he shouldn’t. Sleeping in the same bed as you would only make him grow more attached to you, but the option was too tempting. He crawled into bed with you, trying his hardest to not wake you up and maneuver his way through the dark bedroom. He eventually managed, laying in front of you. He shamelessly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. He may not be able to be with you in the way he wants, but maybe he could settle for this. He just had to pray this wouldn’t be your last encounter.

Little did he know, Atsushi was going to have a very interesting conversation with you the following day, something about inviting Akutagawa into the relationship. Something about it was really nice, and he couldn’t quite describe what it was.

Wc - 5.1k

Currently resisting the urge to make a pt2 where y’all get together💔💔 yk in like a poly way..maybe I’ll write it eventually

[ellievickstar]

River Side Confessions.

Summary: When you ask the shadow singer to help train your muscles, one thing leads to another, and you both end up together.

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Pranks, Azriel threatening the sanctity and secrecy of cookie stashes.

~*~*~*~*~

“When I said ‘train me to become stronger’, I really didn’t mean ‘drag me to the mountains and force me into a river’.” You were annoyed to say the least. Annoyed and sick of Azriel who was currently chuckling at you from a rock near by, standing tall as he looked down at you with those hazel eyes.

Earlier this week you had asked him if he was free to do some extra training with you because you felt like you were becoming rusty, especially since all the big wars and battles were over and all you dealt with were the occasional illyrian brute in the difficult camps.

In retrospect, you should have asked someone else. However, Azriel was significantly better than Cassian and if Cassian had gotten a hint that you wanted even a little extra training, cauldron forbid whatever he would have planned.

So maybe standing in a river trying to maintain your balance against the strong current was a decent situation, but that did not mean that you would not complain about it.

“This is training,” Azriel retorted, “With all the moping around since the war and utter lack of missions on a whole, your core muscles has probably weakened, and in hand-to-hand combat, that isn’t good, princess,” You glared at him harder.

“In simple words,” He continued, “You would be screwed if you were on a battle field right now.” Rolling you eyes, you hated that what he said was true. You had noticed that your muscles had weakened, though your technique was flawless, posture can be everything in close combat, and relying on your magic was not an option especially since Hybern had brought concoctions like Faebane into play.

Cursing at yourself, you despised how your heart seemed to leap and swoon at the nickname, and you hated how your stomach seemed to be in knots at the tired and sultry look Azriel was giving you.

Nesta would probably be screaming in your ear right now that this was some romance scene and the two of you would realise that you were both meant for each other.

Bullshit.

And maybe you should have known better than to fixate on your very real and long-term crush on the shadowsinger because just as you wanted to roll your eyes again at the thought of Nesta and her hopeless romantic novels, your foot slipped and you squealed as you fell into the water and was thrown against the rock that Azriel was standing on.

You heard Azriel curse as he grabbed you by your shoulder and hauled you out of the water.

“Shit shit shit,” Gritting his teeth he flew you to land and lay you down gently, you were bleeding from your head and you could feel the warm liquid trickle down the side of your head. However, instead of opening your eyes, you kept them closed, it was payback time.

You could feel Azriel’s hands travel up and down your body as he scanned you for injuries. “Open your damn eyes,” He bit out, it seemed like a command but you could hear his desperation. He probably knew that you wouldn’t die from such injuries and that waiting around for a bit would allow you to wake up. But you wanted to know what he would say…if there was anything to say.

“Dammit, Y/N please, you can’t be freaking unconscious from hitting a rock and if I actually hurt you I couldn’t live with myself, so open your bloody eyes,” He begged, but Azriel noticed the slight curve in your lips that you were trying to desperately hold back, and as he connected the dots he grinned.

“Well if you are unconscious I guess you don’t mind me eating your secret stash of cookies and also telling Cassian where you like to hide your stash,” Azriel drawled and you shot up so fast as you glared at him, hard. “You tell Cassian, that thief, about MY cookies, and I will break your kneecaps and pry them off with a crowbar,” You hissed. Chuckling, Azriel stroked a hand through your

“Calm down, Little Psycho, besides, you deserve it after scaring me like that,” He teased. Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, but you rolled your eyes as you huffed. “If anyone is the psycho, it’s you. Everyone else knows that cookies are sacred,” Looking away, that was when you realised that you were pressed up against Azriel when you had sat up from your lying down ‘knocked out’ position you had curled up subconsciously to his warmth because the water on you skin made you feel unbearably cold.

As if he had also realised it at the same time, you could have sworn Azriel’s cheeks heated as you scooted away from me, bring your knees to your chest.

You both sat in silence for a while after that, and to your surprise, Azriel was the one who broke it first.

“I have a confession to make,” You could not believe your ears, did Azriel sound….awkward? Staring at him, you made a gesture with your hand, prompting him to continue. “I…I think your my mate,” Wait. Pause. WHAT!?

And that was the exact words you yelled out as you processed what Azriel had said casually like he was telling you he had beat up someone the other day over ice cream. Sure, you would have been surprised over that, but that is not how you tell someone that you are QUITE LITERALLY THEY’RE SOULMATE.

Little did you know, you had been babbling all this out and Azriel was holding back a wild grin.

Safe to say, that afternoon ended with you chasing Azriel with a random stick you had found on the river side, before you both return to Azriel’s home, and I think you can figure out what you both did next 🙂

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I love how my fluff fics are like...super short and then my angsty fics are long as frick

taglist: @positivewitch

[kodienne06]

Ignore dilf Shadow for a second

I’ve got shit to say

I introduce to you the sonic au I’ve been working on for nearly three years now!

(off and on, I have a tendency to switch up my hyper-fixation every few months)

SONIC: THE FAST PACED SAGA

or Sonic FPS for short

(the name’s inspired by fifth phantom saga, look it up you freaks, i’m too lazy to explain)

If you’re in the know, you can maybe guess this story revolves around Silver! The boy that’s only been done dirty!! I love him, he deserves better!

and if you maybe wanna know moreee…

Currently, like with everything I make, it’s really just a bunch of scattered ideas.

But!

A few of these ideas have been fully fleshed out, like with Amy, Knuckles, Shadow, Metal, and especially Silver. Now it’s just about stitching them together… which isn’t all that hard, I just like procrastinating

I don’t wanna say too much and spoil anything, so to make a really long story really short, it’s about Silver time traveling and making friends along the way!

Friends he’d do anything for.

Like alter history.

There’s more to say here but I really can’t think of anything lmao

uhh stay tuned?

idk it’s late

I’ll market this better when I have a better doodle on hand

(To my absolutely lovely, amazing, truly wonderful followers, I know this isn’t the content you want, but it’s the content you’re gonna get. I promise I’m still working on the other au, I just needed to take a break from it)

[amrcnnightmre]

Hi I see you take requests. Would you write a CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader? Maybe one where him and Drew McIntyre are in the height of their feud, and Drew gets the reader hurt during a match. Angst, love, you know lol

I’ve got you - C.M Punk

All fics posted are my original work, feel free to reblog but DO NOT repost thank you!! I haven’t thoroughly edited this so apologies if there’s any errors! All rights are reserved for my writing and any ocs that may be included, please don’t steal and as always.. happy reading!

My Masterlist

CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader!

( tw: angst, fluff, injury, slight worry & panic )

Word count: 1,9K !

requested.

A feud between Punk and McIntyre had gotten to an all time high, both at each others throats constantly and the person in the middle of it all — y/n. Drew found just about all the ways he could to get under CM Punks skin but dragging y/n into the mix brought a whole other level of anger out of Punk, she was his long time partner after all.

Punk and y/n have been together almost 11 years now, their relationship Is as strong as ever. There is nobody who has supported him more then she has, you see him and you know y/n is never far behind — she always had his back.

The action of Monday night was in full effect— bright lights, loud pumped up crowd members and eager superstars ready to take to the ring for each of their scheduled matches. Y/n stood backstage with a furrowed expression as her gaze remained fixated on one of the many screens showcasing the action currently taking place beyond the curtain. Drew was getting the upper hand on his opponent Jey Uso while Punk sat ringside at the commentary desk, saying just about anything to distract the Scots man — a smug expression laced effortlessly on his face as he spoke to the two men next to him.

Y/n had been warming up for her own match that would take place later that night when her attention was caught by the screen closest to her, she wasn’t suppose to get involved in this match but watching drew get in Punks face and yell all sorts of insults the way he did just set her off. It took her no time at all to reach the gorilla, quickly asking one of the backstage tech crew to hit her music before she slipped out of the curtain towards the ring.

A sly smile graced y/n’s lips as she innocently skipped her way down the isle, her hands interlocked behind her back. Punk’s expression twitching slightly in confusion but he quickly hid it with a smile. “ladies and gentleman that is Cm Punks longtime partner y/n heading towards the ring, what is she doing out here during this match” Michael Cole exclaimed as he looked toward punk who responded almost immediately — “your guess is as good as mine Cole, you can’t tame a woman like her” he chuckled lightly to hide any concern in his tone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think y/n could handle herself but Drew was on a ruthless streak of aggression lately that Punk just didn’t trust. Y/n’s smile didn’t fade once as she locked eyes with Drew, Anger flashing across his face as he almost became distracted for a moment. She waved at him mischievously from ringside, the match continued until Drew began to get the upper hand, y/n was not going to let that happen on her watch — not after everything he had put her family through. Y/n climbed up on the ring apron with ease, immediately getting the referees attention in order to cause a distraction and as if on cue Punk slipped away from his spot on commentary and into the ring, a steel chair in hand.

Jey Uso was sprawled out on the mat from prior attack curtesy of Drew, Punk smirking at the Scots man across from him as he rose the chair above his head preparing to slam it down on Drews back that was turned away from him. The next few moments were a blur, happening quicker than anyone could even process, Drew turned and grabbed the chair in the process — nailing Punk in the face with a hard blow from his right hand, it caused such an impact that the man tumbled to the mat and it would now be the Scottish warrior holding the chair above his head.

Drew reeled the chair back as if preparing to strike Cm Punk with the cold steel, turning to his left instead and shocking everyone in attendance — he hit Y/n. The chair nailed Y/n right in the head before she had time to process it, the impact so loud you could’ve sworn it cracked her skull. The refs eyes were wide as Y/n tumbled off the apron and hit the floor with a rough thud. “should’ve kept your girlfriend at home where she belongs!” Drew growled at Punk with a sly grin, The rage that surged through Cm punks veins was unlike any other the moment he realised what had just transpired and within seconds he snapped.

An all out brawl ensued between the two men until Adam Pierce the Raw general manager came storming out to the ring, he signalled for back up and before long the ring was filled with superstars and backstage talent prying the two away from one another. The chaos all happening as medics checked on Y/n who was out cold, they worked quickly to get her on a stretcher and brought to the trainers room.

A few minutes later things began to calm down and that was when Punk realised Y/n was nowhere in sight, a panic washing over him immediately — where was she? Was she okay? Why didn’t he check on her first ? The second these thoughts flooded his mind he was out of the ring and sprinting to the back, pushing his way through the curtain yelling at everyone around him as he asked for y/n’s whereabouts. “Where is she?! Where is Y/N?!” He barked at Paul Levesque aka Triple H, “Phil she’s in the trainers office, they’re checking her out to see if she needs to be transported to the local medical facility” he replied in a soft tone, that was all Punk needed to hear before giving the man a nod and heading straight to the office.

The expression on Punks face immediately softening as he opened the door and saw Y/n sitting up slowly with a groan, their eyes immediately meeting as he walked to her side. “Fuck.. I’m so sorry.. I should’ve looked after you and went straight over-” his ramble was cut off by Y/n placing a gentle kiss to his lips as she held his face in her hands. “Hey, hey I’m okay I promise.. just a little sore” she smiled sweetly at him, Punks eyes rapidly scanned over her body checking for any obvious injuries — the bruising already forming only made him seethe with anger. “I’m gonna kill him I swear” he grumbled under his breathe as his eyes met hers again, “mm later” she smiled wrapping her arms around his neck loosely.

“Im going to go get ready for my match” y/n whispered knowing he would be disapproving given her current state, “to hell you are darlin” he shook his head, “hmm too late?” She giggled before getting up off the table and running out the door down the hall. “Hey don’t you dare!” He laughed chasing her, y/n’s loud giggles echoing through the halls as he chased her.

After a few moments she arrived at her locker room and quickly ran in while closing the door behind her, “y/n” Punk laughed, “y/n i know you’re in there, let me in” he spoke softly. “mm only if you don’t get mad that i’m still planning to do my match later tonight” she smiled as if he could see it through the door, “y/n y/m/n y/l/n.. you’ll be the death of me” he sighed with a gentle laugh after speaking her full name. “Okay fine, but you have to get medically cleared by the trainer first.. deal?” he spoke while standing back waiting for the door to open.

After a few seconds the door opened and revealed Y/n with a little grin on her face, “how can I say no to that?” she whispered before pulling him into the room by his shirt and locking the door behind her. “exactly” he replied before picking her up effortlessly and carrying her to the small couch that took up a space in the room. If there was one thing people probably didn’t know about Phil, it’s that behind closed doors he was a big softy, especially to y/n.

“I hope you know I really am sorry, I had no idea that was going to happen” he mumbled as one hand rested on her hip and the other slowly moved to her lower back. “hey it’s okay, it’s part of the job” she smiled softly, her hands roaming his body ever so gently. “I know but you shouldn’t of gotten hit like that, it could of caused serious damage and I just.. I don’t know what i would’ve done-” his voice almost shaking as he thought about what could of happened if things had gone worse. Y/n carefully moved her hands to his face, carefully resting on both his cheeks, “phil.. love.. i’m okay, i’m right here and that’s all that matters” she hummed looking at him solemnly - her heart speeding up just looking at him.

“alright.. I trust you, but i will get drew back for what he did, that’s a promise”. A smile grew on y/ns face hearing his words, she could not get over how much Phil loved her, that he’d do just about anything for her even though he knew damn well she could stand up for herself. “I appreciate that babe, you’re the best” she laughed lightly, “i have no doubt in my mind you’ll get him back and I simply cannot wait to see it”.

The tension in the room slowly rising as y/n moved her hands to Punks Hair, running her fingers through it softly before tightening her grip on it slightly to tug on it. This action earning a slight groan from the heavily tattooed superstar, “However, your pay back can wait.. I think I know what will make us both feel better, hm?” she whispered as she placed gentle kisses to his neck and up towards his jaw.

Soft groans continued to leave Punks lips as his eyes remained locked on hers, “oh yeah you want to show me exactly what that is?” he smirked running his hands up her body stopping right under her breasts. “I think that could be arranged” she shifted so she was properly straddling him, “You only get a preview though, and then the full thing comes after i win my match tonight” she grinned running her thumb across his jaw, both their eyes locked on one another full of lust.

“mm I can agree to that, IF you get cleared.. but either way i’m taking good care of you love” he hummed running his hands under her shirt while keeping his gaze fixed on her, “oh yeah? that’s if I don’t care for you first” she challenged with with a bright smile. A few seconds passed and Punk picked the smaller woman up and smoothly flipped her over so he was now hovering over her gently, a loud squeal followed by sweet laughter erupting from her lips at the sudden action. I think we can all guess that probably wasnt the only noise coming from the room that night.

“I’ve got you” he whispered lovingly, “in and outside of the ring.. i’ve got you, nobody gets away with hurting you like that” their foreheads pressed gently against one another.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Minecraft and a Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,645

Read on AO3

You were currently laying on your stomach on your bed, legs bent, and crossed at the ankles. Your eyes were fixated on the screen across from you. You’d found a used XBox for extremely cheap online, and it had come with a few games. Need for Speed, Left 4 Dead, and Minecraft. You had enough blood and gore hunting, so you opted to put Left 4 Dead to the side for the time being. Minecraft caught your attention because it looked like something that you could zone out and play. It didn’t require much, or at least that’s what you were guessing. You never guessed that you would get hooked, let alone so quickly.

You were, though.

Dean walked in your room, watching you for a moment. “What the hell are you playing?” He asked.

Glancing over your shoulder for a minute, you wondered how long he had been standing there. “Minecraft.” You said simply, chopping down another tree.

“And what’s the point? All I see is a bunch of blocks and you hitting things. Boring things.” He pointed out.

You let out a sigh and sat up. Patting the bed next to you, you figured he’d end up just making fun or you forever, but could at least show him. “I’m not sure how to explain the point. I mean, I’m not on adventure or anything. I could change the settings and monsters would attack sometimes. I’m just messing around. You gather supplies, build things.” You told him.

He raised his eyebrow at you and sat down on the floor next to your bed. “Here.” You said after you exited your game and created a new one for him. “You try.” He hesitated for a moment, but looking at your smile, he gave in.

“Let’s see what this is all about.” He said, kicking off his shoes and getting comfortable. You watched him, seeing his profile. The only time you really saw him peaceful was in his sleep. Part of you hoped that this would be something else he could do to get his mind off things. Even if he found it stupid. Sitting back against the headboard, you crossed your legs at the ankle. Pulling out a book from your night stand, you pretended to read. Every now and then you’d actually glance down and read a couple lines, however. You were content just watching him over the top of your book. You held back a chuckle when you saw a look of frustration on his face. “Problem, Dean?” Your voice was teasing.

Pausing it, he shot you a look. “I need to make a damn bed, but I can’t figure out what the hell I need. What is that white stuff?” He pointed to the screen.

You gave him an amused glance. “That would be wool, babe.” You teased. Realizing what you said, you turned a light pink. “You kill sheep for them. Cows for leather. You get the idea.” Being under his gaze made you shift slightly. “I’m going to get us something to drink.” Scooting off the bed, you adjusted your shorts slightly.

Hurrying out of the room, you ran into Sam. “Have you seen Dean?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s in my room. What’s up?” Your hands were on your hips.

“Do I even want to know what you guys are up to?” He smirked, making your face even redder.

“He’s playing Minecraft on my XBox. Perv.” You shot back. “Anyways, I’m going to get us a drink. Go on and bug him.” He knew that you were joking with him, and he ruffled your hair with his hand. Chuckling, you pushed his hand off.

You walked past him, trying to fix your hair. You didn’t care that it looked messy, but if it got too bad, you’d be untangling it for ages. Your bare feet moved towards the kitchen as you willed your cheeks to cool off. Standing in front of the fridge, you enjoyed the cool air. You grabbed a couple beers and a bag of candy you had stashed behind some of Sam’s health foods. You knew that Dean would never look there. Smirking, you made your way back to your room.

Hearing the boys talking, you slowed your walking. “Are you honestly enjoying this game?” You heard Sam. Stopping right outside, you leaned against the wall.

“I don’t really care either way. I mean, I kinda get why she gets into it…but I wouldn’t go out of my way to play.” Dean replied. “It’s just nice getting to relax with her.” He admitted, making you smile.

“You got it bad.” Sam laughed. “Ow.” Just by that you knew that Dean had punched him in the arm. Shaking your head, he sighed. Deciding to save Dean, you gave it a second and then walked in.

Handing Dean a beer, you resumed your previous position. Sam just watched you guys. “Are you two done having a gab fest in my room? Or do I need to relocate to one of yours?” You teased, tossing a piece of candy at Dean’s head. “Preferably Sam’s.”

“Hey!” Dean said, swatting the air. “Where’d you get the candy?” He asked, grabbing the piece that you threw at him.

Grinning, you shook your head. “Like I’m giving that up.”

“And what do you mean that you’d prefer Sam’s room?”

“Dude. You don’t realize how much sound carries, do you?” You asked, sticking a lollipop in your mouth. “Between your porn, which is extremely fake, mind you, and the chicks you bring home- who are worse than the porn- I don’t know which is worse.” Sam choked on a laugh. “Which, I’d rather not talk about anymore. I’ve tried to block out those sounds.” You shrugged. “If you aren’t gonna play, gimme back my controller.” Your hand reached out for it.

He held it away from you. “No! I’m still playing.” He sounded like a big kid. “And you insulted my room.” He added, un pausing the game.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you guys to argue about the sounds that come out of Dean’s room and I’m going to go to a movie or something. Anything away from here.” Sam said, getting up. “I don’t want to be here when you guys recreate them.”

Your face turned bright red again. It was doubtful that Dean saw you as anything more than a friend, hell, a sister even. Sighing, you put the bag of candy on the night stand. The only thing you could hear in your room were the game, and you sucking on the lollipop.

After a few minutes, Dean broke the silence. “You don’t really hear all that much…do you?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do.” You replied quietly. “Too much.” Around your room you had a few pairs of headphones. This way, no matter what, you could block out the sounds.

“Does that bother you?”

Rolling your eyes, you shifted slightly. “No. Of course not. Hearing my friend get laid in the other room doesn’t bother me at all.” Your voice was dripping in sarcasm. “You’re a grown man. Sleep with whoever you want.”

Dean sighed. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N/N.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what you mean? I’m not a mind reader.”

“I mean…does it bother you in general? To know that I’m sleeping with someone else?”

Your eyes widened. How were you supposed to answer that? His tone gave no indication as to what answer he was looking for. If you said ‘yes’, would that make things weird? If you said ‘no’, would you disappoint him? The question rolled over and over in your mind. “Yes.” You whispered.

Dean set the controller on the ground and moved. Your legs were shifted so one was over his lap, and the other was against his hip on the bed. “Why does that bother you?”

“Are you playing with me right now?” You snapped, hurt evident in your eyes. “Why else would it bother me? If you’re just in here to make fun of me, I think you should get out.” Your tone was firm, but hurt. Closing your eyes, you swallowed, willing your eyes not to water.

You felt Dean shift, and your legs were suddenly no longer on him. Listening for the door, you shifted to lay on your back more. You kept your eyes shut, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “I’m not playing with you.” Your eyes shot open at his voice. He was standing next to your bed, hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you think that. I’m sorry that you think that I would do something like that. I just didn’t think you’d ever be interested in me.” He shrugged. Turning, he moved towards the door.

“Dean, wait.” You said. Getting off your back, you kneeled at the end of you bed. He walked over to you and you took his hand. “I’m sorry. I ju-it just sounded like you were trying to make fun of me.” You sighed playing with his fingers. “Stay with me? Only if you want to. We could keep playing this, or I have Need for Speed. Maybe a movie?” Your voice was hopeful. “I’m not asking for some promise of a relationship or anything, but let’s just see where this goes.”  

Smiling, he kissed you. “I like that idea. How about we see how badly you suck at racing games?” He teased.

Feigning shock, you put your hand on your chest. “Are you challenging me, Winchester?”

“I most certainly am.”

The next morning when Sam came in, he found you with your head on Dean’s chest, controller on the floor, Dean resting against the headboard, his controller on his lap. Looking at the TV, he laughed when he saw the leader board. Y/N was in most of the slots.

[star-gazer101]

Pet Names

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Idia Shroud x Reader

Characters: Idia Shroud and Ortho Shroud

Warnings: GN reader, Slight OOC, Uses of the nickname ‘Darling’ despite gender-neutral reader

AN: Just a fun side story, before anything serious happens.

-

Today was just an typically ordinary day. 

An ordinary day to do nothing but laze about in Idia’s dorm.

Ortho paused his current playthrough of farming dancing blobs to gaze at the “potential couple” doing their own thing.

His brother was currently raiding online with his online companion Crimson Muscle, while you were busy playing on a handheld console. You had said something about wanting to help solve puzzles with a “Gentleman traveler and his apprentice” before the new game comes out sometime this year.

Maybe he should be more concerned about his brother’s personality rubbing off on you than the other way around.

On the other hand, you both were now comfortable enough to do whatever, he guess?

Perhaps you missed a step after skipping the confession?  He really doesn’t know.

What exactly comes next?

Please don’t let it be another session of feeding his brother peeled apple slices when he last got sick…

Thankfully, you broke the silence. “Hey, Idia?”

Idia only grunted in response, his eyes fully fixated on his game. However, he was listening.

“I know we’ve been friends for quite a while, well, more than that, but…I was wondering…Would you…Would you be okay with taking our relationship to the next level?”

That…Was so sudden! You really do have no shame! Idia is choking on his drink and everything!

Better calm him down before it gets worse!

“S-sorry if that was too sudden Player 1,” You apologized as you patted his back. “I should’ve waited until you were done drinking.”

“Yeah, you should have!” Idia gasped. “What’s with the sudden sneak attack? Are you trying to send me to an early grave?!”

“Maybe?” You gave a teasing smile and then awkwardly giggled when he glared. “It’s just that…I’ve seen things where the best of friends use special names for each other. Not that I’m against our current nicknames: Player 1 and Player 2. I just want something a little more…intimate y’know?” 

At this Idia groaned as he quietly muttered things like “typical normie stuff”, but the pink in his hair never faded. “I knew I should have never let you watch late-night shojo anime…Too many unrealistic expectations…”

“He’s just shy,” Ortho whispered on the other side, finally giving his two cents on the topic, causing you to giggle.

“We don’t have to, if it’s too much.”

“I-I never said that! And Ortho, stop enabling them!”

“No promises, big bro!”

“You are so cute when you’re flustered, Idia~”

You two were going to be the death of him!

-

It only had been half an hour and Idia has crossed out pages worth of random names. Most of them were just you messing around and coming up with the cringiest of nicknames that even made Ortho flinch with how sugary sweet some of the names were.

Seriously, how can anyone call their friend ‘Schmoopsy Poo’ and keep a straight face?

“I’m sorry, Prefect, but I can’t agree with any of these. And what’s the deal with ‘Smashy-smashy Eggman’? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Sorry. Had a favorite movie back from my world on the brain and just couldn’t help but quote it at least once while I’m here. I’ll tell you all about it after we’re done with all of this.”

Idia sighed. “How about something simple? What kind of name would you want to go by?”

You paused mid-scribble as you pondered on what he suggested. It took about a few minutes before your face burned an alarming red.

‘Quite the reaction there, Prefect. Mind sharing with the rest of us?’

“Well…There is one that I kinda want to try…”

“Oh? What is it, big sib?”

“Idia…Do you remember that one horror game with the little girl and her black cat?”

Ortho had an idea where this was going, but let you continue much to his brother’s embarrassment.

“I…would like to be called one of those names of endearment that the cat called her. I would like to be called ‘darling’ and for you to be called ‘dearest’. Is that okay with you?”

“D-d-darling…D-d-dearest…”

…

“Idia?”

“Brother, are you okay?”

-

“Again, sorry for overheating your brother, Ortho. Didn’t mean to overdue it this time.”

“Don’t worry about it, big sib. He lasted longer than his previous record which is 10% less.”

“That’s quite an achievement. Is there anything I can do?”

“Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll just put some gamer stuff under his nose and he’ll be back up. For now, just head on back to Ramshackle.”

“Alright…thanks again Ortho, for humoring me.”

With you finally out of the room, the younger Shroud could only shake his head as he stared at how pathetic his brother was being. All of that because of a simple pet name…

“They wanted me to call them darling…and me dearest…how cringworthy can they get…how lame..”

“Idia, I can’t take you seriously with that dumb look on your face.”

Only in the Ignihyde dorm would that count as progress. Best of luck to you, Prefect.