#hi 18 year old me.... were u okay <3

[fearandhatred]

reading through my very old unpublished stony wips for the first time in years and oh my god. WHY WOULD I WRITE THIS

[hier--soir]

ripe

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship. warnings/tags: pre-outbreak, set in the early 2000s, early thirties joel my lover boyy, bisexual reader, established relationship, that one shit stirring friend, brief alcohol consumption and piv sex at the onset, brief masturbation [m] in the bath, a little ass eating and fingering, a little spitting, pegging, dirty talk, praise, dildo is described as "your cock" multiple times, reach around hand job you will always be famous, they talk each other through it, the word hole is used 11 times but it feels like 100, also they're in love okay bye. word count: 5.3k masterlist a/n: this is being posted as a part of the PMAMC organised by @wannab-urs ! if you wanna read more glorious pegging fics for pp characters, a masterlist of everything being posted this week will be shared by gin soon! <3 x much thanks to @bageldaddy for holding my dick while i wrote this, for the edit, and for reminding me that where there is gape, there must also be affection x

Oil Can Harry’s is dark and loud; packed enough that condensation drips off the walls around you and makes the hair at the base of your neck frizz.

Packed into a sweaty booth, Joel’s flannel amidst all the glitter and hairspray and fruity cocktails of the drag night makes you grin. Your oldest friends fawn over him, endeared by the way he talks, the way he stands, the way he looks at you.

He smiles, warm and sheepish as they regale him with stories from years ago. Blushes when they remind him that he’s the first cock in a long line of cunts. Squeezes your knee beneath the table when they assert that he must be doing something right to have been kept around this long.

He settles in fast, lips slick and eyes glazed. Stops flustering while ordering Wet Pussys and Cock Sucking Cowboys, but still raises an eyebrow when a friend asks you, isn’t there anything you miss about it?

About what?

Dating women.

You roll your eyes, the sharp tang of vodka beneath your tongue as you shake your head. No.

S’not all that different, Joel offers up, smiling easily. Right?

So you tell him, No, and then, I mean, it is. But good different.  

But your cheeks have gone hot, eyes downcast as you sip a pink drink and try not to think about what exactly you miss. But Joel, fingers firm on your thigh, knows. He always knows.

So later when you’re in his bed, thighs pressed flush to your chest and he’s sinking inside your wet heat, it’s clear he isn’t letting up that easily. 

“You jealous?” he hums, elated and almost taunting, revelling in the way you sound as he fucks you. “Miss being the one fuckin’ someone this good?”

“Oh fuck off,” you whine, breathlessly embarrassed, gripping his shoulder and rutting your hips up against his, chasing the high that’s already tingling in your stomach.

“Naw, I want you to tell me.” He leans in, all ears for the dirty confession waiting to spill from your lips, loving it. “You miss your cock, baby?”

His hips press deeper, and the confession leaves your lips in a gasp. “Yes, fuck, okay yes I miss it.”

“Mm, you gonna show me it sometime?”

You feel your face go slack, stomach tightening at the thought, and Joel pushes further, harder.  

“Yeah baby, that’s what you want,” he goads, reaching between your bodies to press his fingers to your clit. “Want to fuck me, yeah? Bend me over and show me how much you miss it?”

You come with blood rushing in your ears and your hand gripping his ass, mind a blur of images of you being the one fucking him.

The next morning, sorely hungover and still tangled in his bedsheets, he asks if you were serious.

“Serious about what?” you ask, throat hoarse, eyes still closed.

His hand slips down your back to grip the flesh of your ass, the tip of his middle finger pressing dangerously close to your asshole until your eyelids crack open and you look at him. Brain ticking over, catching up slowly, eyes widening when you understand his train of thought.

When you don’t respond, head pounding and heart racing, he says, “If that’s what you want I’d—”

But caught up in the moment, in your own bashfulness, you interrupt him. Face warm at the idea of him having to placate you the morning after a drunken confession, you kiss him and say, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”  

Joel goes a little quiet, but kisses you back with fervour. Sucks your lower lip into his mouth and rolls on top of you, not letting you get out of bed until well into the afternoon.

It’s not until a month later that it all finally becomes clear. 

The house is oddly quiet when you get home.

Your living room is lit up by lamps across the space, but the television is off, and the couch cushions look undisturbed.

“Joel?” you call softly, stepping into the kitchen, pausing in confusion when you don’t find him there either.

You drop your purse on the counter and rifle through it for your phone, pulling up your text thread with him to reread his messages from a few hours ago.

You staying out late?

Not tonight, AJ has work early tomorrow. I should be home by 9. Meet me there? x

Perfect. See you at 9 x

The clock on your microwave reads 9:24 but you can’t hear a peep from anywhere in the house. Not a creaking floorboard or a shower running or even a snoring boyfriend.

“Babe, are you here?”

Nothing seems amiss at all until you reach the bathroom and find the door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the hallway as soft little sounds float out to your ears. Quiet murmurs punctuated by water lapping against porcelain.

“Joel?” You crack a knuckle against the door, careful not to nudge it open without his permission. “You okay?”

A rough inhale sounds behind the door and you pause, heartrate spiking a little. But then his voice calls through the wood, a little stilted as he says, “You can come in.”

Joel Miller hardly fits in your bathtub. All the times he’d joked about trying to squeeze in there with you, or when he’d come over with a sore back but insisted on a shower instead. But seeing him now, torso submerged in the water, muscled legs propped up against the wall with his hand resting between his thighs… you certainly aren’t complaining to see your broad boyfriend cramped up in your bath, touching himself.

“Hello there,” you murmur, bending to press a kiss to his sweaty temple. The tips of his curls are damp, frizzing around his ears as he smiles up at you. “Indulging yourself tonight I see.”

“You got no idea,” he replies, chin tilting upward as he stares you square in the face.

You smile at his flushed cheeks, at the muscle in his bicep flexing as he touches himself. Your gaze follows the veins in his arm, the flick of his wrist, but when you look into the water you pause. His cock is a rich red colour, hard and throbbing where it rests, neglected against his stomach. His thick fingers disappear past his balls, curling slowly out of your sight.

“Joel,” you exhale, face warming as you watch, slowly understanding. “Are you…?”

A harsh stream of air bursts from his nostrils as he meets your eyes, cheeks burning hotter by the second.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he admits gruffly. “Not since that night at the bar.”

“Fuck,” you shake your head, frowning a little. “I thought you were just… Joel, I’m sorry I brushed you off that night—”

“Naw,” he tuts quickly, brushing the apology away with a jerk of his chin. “I should’ve said.”

There’s a brief silence, your brain racing to catch up, a slow smile slipping across your face.

“Read that a bath helps,” he says then, gaze heavy. “Soft and loose the website said.”

And whatever you’d been about to say, whatever thought was bubbling in your mind, slips away in an instant.

In its place, just a bone deep, aching love for this man. It’s clear in his eyes; tenderness, and care swirling in his stare. Endless brown, struck with adoration, clearly saying, I want to do this for you, with you.

Throat tight, you lower onto your knees beside the tub. “S’it feel good?”

A breath rattles through his chest, and he nods again.

You lean closer, craning your neck to try and see better. Find yourself wanting to catch the exact way he presses his fingers inside himself. How he curls them, massaging inside himself. But he notices and pulls his hand away, gripping his cock instead and grunting.

“Looked through your stuff.”

“Hmm?” You meet his eye again, mouth dry.

“The drawer in your closet,” he exhales, eyelids fluttering as he strokes himself. “Found your… I don’t know.”

“My what?”   

“The harness,” he grunts out, fist tightening around his cock. The tip rests out of the water, flushed an angry mauve colour, little beads of pearly come oozing from his slit. “All the… I don’t know what the fuck you call ‘em. You know what I mean, alright?”

“Joel.” You laugh a little, endeared by how bashful he can be, even as he touches himself in front of you. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby.”

“M’not.”

“No?” You smile, voice low and breathy now, liquid heat sparking in your veins the longer the idea percolates through your mind. “So you want me to fuck you?”

“You know I do.”

“You’re gonna let me put my cock in you, stretch you out just right for me, the way I let you do to me every night?”

“Fuck.” Joel’s eyes pinch shut, fist tightening around his cock.

You reach in and yank out the plug, watching as water begins to spin and gurgle, and Joel grips the edges to pull himself up. The water drips off him in thick beads, pouring from his fingertips, down the centre of his chest, keeping the curls at the base of his cock tight and dark. 

He’s over the lip of the tub in a second, crowding you against the sink with a thick arm on either side of you, wet chest darkening the fabric of your blouse, mouth slotting against mouth. Steam warmed lips smother yours, tongue snaking out to press inside your mouth, and he swallows down every little moan and gasp of excitement you feed into his kiss. His cock is warm against your stomach and his hips stutter back every time you grind the buckle of your belt against him, grinning into his mouth.

“Gonna make it good for me?” He grips your face in both hands. Tilts your chin up and smears nasty kisses over your jaw, down your neck to the collar of your shirt, skin smarting where his teeth snap at it. “Take care of me the way I do for you?”

“You know I will,” you pant, eyelids fluttering as he sucks at hollow of your throat. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Joel releases a wrecked, gravelly moan against your skin and then he’s gripping your arm, nudging you forward, past the threshold and into your dimly lit bedroom. The closet is open, third drawer down hanging limply out from the chest. Inside you can see that things have been shifted around, looked at. And on your bed, there’s a dildo. Heat rises in your chest as you stare at it. Thick and long and red, with a curved tip and raised silicone decorating shaft to give the illusion of veins.

Joel drapes an arm around your waist, holding you back against his bare chest. The thick weight of his cock presses against the base of your spine and you sigh, grinding back into him.

“Remembered you sayin’ it was your favourite.” He nips at your neck, inhaling as his nose presses into your hair. Your chest swells at that, and you turn your head, let your lips find his in a soft kiss.

That hand on your waist drifts down until his palm is cupping your sex through your pants, fingers pressing firmly over the inseam there. You sigh into his mouth, hand falling overtop his to keep it in place.

“It is my favourite,” you murmur into the kiss. “But we’re gonna start much smaller tonight, hmm?”

Joel makes a vague noise in the back of his throat, dark eyes searching yours.

“Don’t think I can handle it?”

“You’d be cruisin’ for a bruisin’, baby.”

Somehow, he blushes deeper than before, and clears his throat.

 “Alright.”  

He watches on as you dip a hand into the drawer. You gravitate to glass. Thick rose quartz with a gorgeous, rounded base. But you push it away, knowing it won’t work with your harness. You trace the length of a pretty mauve cock, ribbed for your pleasure—or his—with preternaturally large balls. Still too long. Everything too long, too thick, too much. But then you see it. Pale blue silicone, nestled beneath silk rope ties and a set of handcuffs you guys hadn’t used in in a while. You shift things away and pick it up.

Soft and smooth; it’s maybe 6 inches long with a little curve towards the end, and it’s oh so pretty in your hand. You grab a bottle of lube and turn to put them on the bed, smiling at the way his dark eyes focus on the items. So curious, so filled with desire, with eagerness to please, to let you do this to him, for him, with him. The trust on his face warms your chest and sets your heart racing.

Joel lands softly on the mattress as you reach back in. Fingers meet leather and soon enough he’s watching as you peel your pants down your legs, your underwear. Undoing the buttons on your blouse as he strokes his cock, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open. Only when you’re bare do you slip your legs into the harness, sighing as black leather tickles against your skin on the way up, and situate it around your hips. Only a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, watching him see you like this for the first time.

Pulling and twisting straps until it’s perfectly snug, you crawl up the bed to straddle his hips. His skin is warm and wet against yours, and his hands fall to your hips in seconds, wide eyes admiring the contraption fixed to your waist. He toys with the straps, eyeing the little silver fasteners, and then glides a finger around the inside circumference of the o-ring, breathing a little deeper now.

“S’nice,” he compliments, looking back up at your face. “You’re… you…”

“What?”

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You’re gorgeous.”

You stare down at him for a moment; the hard set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose. Lean in and kiss him, softly this time. Whisper, so are you, against his lips and smile when he laughs.

Tapping his side, you get off and urge him to turn over. “Let me show you.”

His broad body twists, falling to land on his front with his legs bent, weight balanced on his knees and forearms. You trail featherlight fingers over his thick shoulder blades, down the strong line of his spine. Touch the little dimples at the small of his back, and then lean down to kiss them. Slowly, one and then the other. You feel his breath hitch a little and smile against his skin, landing on your knees between his calves and letting your hands fall over the muscled cheeks of his ass. Squeezing, kneading the flesh there with tender hands, and then pushing them apart, baring him to you.

“Oh,” you breathe quietly, eyes trained on the dark hair on his skin, the tight little hole between his cheeks. “So pretty, Joel.”

You sigh into the crease of his ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his cheeks as your tongue flicks out to glide over his hole. Still wet from the bath, he tastes like soap and warmth and Joel. His body goes tense for a second, back muscles flexing as he adjusts to the new sensation.

“Y’ain’t gotta do that—”

“I want to.”

You kiss the base of his spine again. Give him a moment to tell you he doesn’t want it, or he doesn’t like it. But seconds pass, and he stays silent, so you grin and lean down.  Eyes closed now, you lick him again; soft little strokes of your tongue from his balls to his tight hole until his body goes soft and lax and he’s exhaling little sighs into the pillows.

“Fuck,” he says. “So this is what I’ve been missin’, hmm?”

You hum against him, the corner of your mouth ticking up into a little smile as you prod your tongue against his rim, urging him to relax more so you can press deeper. As he opens up for you, you squeeze his hips gratefully, fingers soft and kind against his skin.

“So good for me,” he continues breathlessly, almost babbling now, stream of consciousness pouring from his lips in between sharp gasps and low grunts. “Got the prettiest little mouth, I wish I could see it baby—fuuuck—that’s it, good girl.”

Your fingers flutter a steady rhythm over the skin of his thighs. Caressing the dark hairs there, the twitching muscles, humming when he shivers beneath your touch. The harness digs into the flesh at the inside of your thighs, at your hips, and you almost moan at the familiar bite of it. Relish in the way it pinches at your skin when you bend and raise your ass in the air, working him open around your tongue.

With your nose pressed against his skin, you lathe messy kisses against his hole. Feel the way it clenches beneath your tongue and whine, inhaling the natural musk of him as you go. Your mind a blur with soft skin and rough hair and tight tight tight around your tongue.

Drunk on the taste of him, you let your hand drift from his thigh around his waist. Float across his stomach, forefinger dragging over his belly button, his happy trail, down down until your fingers glide over the slick head of his cock. Joel jumps a little, hypersensitive, and exhales a rough moan as your fingers wrap around his length and slowly begin to stroke. With the steady movement of your hand his asshole begins to pulse beneath your tongue and so you pull back to watch it. Admire the way it flutters and clenches. Quick, so fast your mind can hardly process it, you’re collecting saliva in your mouth and letting it drool past your lips, wet and messy as it pools over his asshole. Joel’s cock throbs in your hand and he groans. You think he even arches his back a little, his entire body pleading for you to just put your mouth back on him. But you take a second; watch your slick spit turn his skin shiny and grin, raising hand to suck your fingers into your mouth and then press your middle finger against him.

The tip of your finger presses forward, working to relax that tight ring of muscle, and he exhales heavily.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” you tell him, voice thick with want as you pull your eyes off his ass to meet his stare.

“Then quit playin’ around and fuck me.” He presses back against you and groans when your finger slips inside his ass.

“Hey,” you warn, curling it slowly inside him. So warm and tight, unforgiving at first as you try to stroke at his insides. “Slow, okay?”

“Just want to feel you.” It’s clear on his face too. Pupils dilated, vulnerability splashed across his features with nowhere to hide.

“You will,” you soothe, pulling your hand back only to work a second finger inside. Kiss his skin again. “Let me take care of you.”

He doesn’t voice any complaints after that. Too busy with his face pressed against the pillows, drooling and grunting as you stretch him out around your fingers, his tight hole clamped down around the digits. You don’t touch his cock again, too worried he’ll come before you can really give him your all, but he gives pitiful little ruts toward the mattress. Soon enough his movements become so needy, so often, that, with a pang in your chest, you figure it must be painful. You almost ask how long he was touching himself before you came home, but then he’s interrupting the thought, reaching back to grip your wrist, wide eyes pleading with you from over his shoulder.

“Alright, love,” you murmur, pulling your fingers back and nodding. “I think you’re ready.”

Resting back on your heels, you grab the dildo and work it into the ring on your harness. Checking once, twice, to make sure it’s stable, before opening the bottle of lube. You squirt some onto your fingers, some directly onto the tip of the cock, and begin working it over the length, admiring the way it turns shiny beneath your touch.

“S’a pretty cock baby,” Joel admires, cheeks flushed. He watches you over his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you stroke silicone, lube warming between your palm and the shaft.

“You like it?” He nods and your chest warms with pride at the way his eyes darken, gaze darting continuously from your face to the piece between your legs. “Well, you’re gonna love how it feels.”

A fresh pump of lube onto your fingers and you’re shifting forward, on your knees again, lathering it onto his hole, smiling at the squelch as you pump your fingers inside him and push it in.

And then, soon enough, pale blue meets dark pink. Prods and presses, soft at first, and then firmer as he relaxes for you. Lube rolls down the shaft in rivulets, pooling against puckered skin, drooling lower to coat his balls, and a low sound rumbles from Joel’s chest. When you pause, his chin ticks to the side and he peers past his shoulder to look at you.

“You good?” he asks.

“Mhm. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Joel shivers when your hand lands at the base of his spine, thumb resting in the cleft of his ass, right above where you’ve started to press the tip inside him. The skin beside his eyes tightens, and he nudges his hips back into you, almost imperceptibly. You shiver at the sight, a sharp flush of arousal sparking between your thighs as you admire the plump shape of his ass. Like a ripe piece of fruit, begging to be split open.  

Joel chuckles knowingly; can see it in your eyes, the way your mouth hangs open. “Come on now. I know you’re dying for it, baby.” 

You grip his hip to keep him steady, cock notched against his opening, and continue pressing forward. Just gentle rolls of your hips at first, making sure everything is wet enough, checking in every now and then. But once the rounded tip pushes inside, Joel starts to squirm. His skin is flushed a deep red, beads of sweat rolling down his back, and you stroke his skin to soothe him.

“Joel?”

“Need you inside me.” His voice cracks a little on the last word,

“Shit, okay,” you exhale, fingers tightening on his waist. Your eyes leave the side of his face, locked on where your cock is steadily disappearing into him, and you press forward, bottoming out in one fell swoop. Leather meets his skin and the sounds he makes are none you’ve ever heard before. Deep, rumbling groans that come from the base of his stomach and force their way out of his throat. Tanned fingers grapple with your bedsheets, searching for an anchor as you drag your hips back and little and then feed your cock into him again.

You curse under your breath, unable to look away from how his hole gapes around the silicone, opening up for your every thrust.

“So fucking tight,” you whisper, awed as he ruts his ass back against you. Your fingers dig into his flesh, holding him open so you don’t miss a thing. “You look so good this, baby.”

Words are lost to him though, only able to form incoherent grunts and mumbles of your name as you deliver steady, deep strokes into his ass. It’s a slick glide now, almost no resistance left as you pump your cock into him.

“Talk to me,” you urge, sweat dribbling down your temples and smearing across your neck. “Wanna know how it feels.”

“Feels—” Joel chokes out, voice a thin, broken rasp. “A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“So fuckin full,” he says. “God, you’re so good, feels—fuck, feels so good.”

You moan a little, eyes glazing over as you pick up the pace, fucking him harder, hand between his shoulder blades as you press him flat against the mattress. And those rough noises he makes only urge you on, encouraging you to press a foot into the mattress at his side and push a little deeper until he’s gasping, thighs spasming below you.

“Shit,” you whimper, face screwing up as you watch his hand drift beneath his stomach. “I knew it, knew you’d love this.”  

You tug on his hips, pulling him back onto his knees so you can force his hand away and replace it with your own. Slick fingers wrap around his cock, the two of you cursing in unison at the way he pulses against your warm palm.

“Turn over for me.” Your fingers prod at the soft flesh around his hip as you pull out. You stare at the way his hole gapes open for a second, fluttering around the empty space where your cock has just been, and feel your cunt clench in response. “Please, I want to see your face.”

He lets you guide him, careful hands on his arms, his waist, until he lands on his back. A little unsure, his thighs fall apart so you can rest between them, and you give him a reassuring nod.

“That’s perfect,” you say, rubbing his thighs as you tilt them open wider, caressing his balls as you line yourself up with him again. “Doing so good for me, you’re perfect.”

And when you make contact, slipping in easily now, his stiff cock jolts and he lets out a ragged moan, reaching out for you.

Joel’s heavy hand lands on the base of your stomach, fingers twitching against the harness there.

“Wanna touch you,” he says, eyebrows pinched with need.

“I know, I know,” you murmur under your breath, smiling down at him. “Just let me take care of you, I wanna make you come like this, okay? Need to see it.”  

In response he just tucks his fingers around the top of the harness, holding on as you fuck into him, hot and heavy. Long, strong strokes that have his cock twitching against his stomach, pre-come dribbling from his tip as he just fucking takes and takes and takes.

“Keep talkin’ to me,” he pleads.

“You’re taking it so well,” you say, watching him keen under your praise. The skin on his chest glows with sweat and you lean forward to kiss his sternum. In response his fingers card through your hair, holding you to him as you mould your hips against his over and over.

“I love you.” You kiss the words into his skin, mouth falling open when he groans and starts raising his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. “So good for me, I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” he repeats, dazed and out of it when you pull back to look at his face again. You can tell he’s close; can see it in the twitch of his fingers, the shake of his thighs. “Shit.”  

And so you grip his knee with one hand and his cock with the other, pressing him open wider and stroking his length in time with your thrust. His eyes sharpen and he cries out. A harsh, high noise that makes your stomach tighten and your hair stand on end. And then he’s panting, telling you, fuck, right there, right fucking there, keep goin’.

His chest heaves below you, soft stomach moving fast and hard as you hold his knee to the side, griding your cock against that perfect little spot. Joel’s jaw pulls taut, veins thrumming in his neck as he holds his breath, seemingly fighting against the intensity of the feeling.

Your back aches, muscles on fire, but you push through, desperate to see the look on his face when he comes like this for the first time. And Joel must sense your determination, that burning need inside of you, because he locks eyes with you and nods.

“That’s it, baby,” he tells you. “Fuck me like I fuck you, that’s—shit, that’s perfect.”

Spurred on, your fingers tighten around the base of his cock and you slow your pace to a steady grind, rubbing the tip against where you know it feels best. He tells you as much, with the way his breathing starts to stutter and his nods become slow, lazy drags of his head.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, eyelids fluttering half closed. “Gonna…. fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

You watch the muscles in his abdomen pull tight, feel his hand land on your waist, propelling you forward to keep fucking him as his high creeps up and up inside of him, until you say let go, I’ve got you, come for me, and it all falls apart.

Thick white spurts from his ruddy tip, slicking your knuckles and painting your tits in pearly streaks that drip down your stomach. Joel’s groaning, teeth bared as his eyes loll back. The veins in his neck deep blue and pulsing, face a dark crimson as he shakes beneath you. Some of his come even lands on his own chest, and you moan at the sight, still fucking into him, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. He bats your hand away, fingers tangling tight and desperate around yours, and you watch in awe as come continues to dribble from his untouched cock. Streams of white that roll down his shaft, past his taut balls to where you’ve still got him stuffed to the brim.

“Ohh,” you murmur in delight, admiring the way his come looks on your cock, streaks of white on blue as you fuck him. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you look so good right now.”

It all gets a bit too much for him after that. Fingers squeezing at your thighs, mouth twisted up as he murmurs, that’s it, baby, that’s all I got, and you ease yourself out of him, despite knowing you could probably keep milking him for all he’s worth and he’d just moan and take it because he loves you.

Instead, you watch as Joel’s legs go limp against the mattress, hovering over him, trailing your fingers softly against his hairy calves, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” he rasps, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. You laugh quietly and press a little kiss against his knee.

A sticky mix of come and lube dribbles from the tip of the cock, dotting against his skin, and you apologise softly, fingers coming up to start removing the harness. He just smiles, body spent but eyes soft and loving as he watches you fret. Rapt beneath the weight of his gaze, you pause, cheeks aching as you smile down at him.

“Good?” you ask hopefully.

“Great.”

Pride sweeps through you and your smile only grows as you finally remove the harness, peeling it from your legs and nudging it away. You reach for his hand and he grips it between both of his, bringing it up to his mouth to lay soft kisses against your palm, the tips of your fingers.

“I love you,” you tell him again, and the feeling swims in your guts and burns the inside of your chest. It’s all you can think as he presses your hand to his cheek and nuzzles against it – that this is all you could ever hope to have and to keep. This beautiful, loving man who you want to make feel this good for the rest of your lives. He repeats the words against your skin, drowsy and earnest, and you know he must be feeling the exact same way.

“Don’t move. Let me get you some water,” you whisper, shifting to get off the bed, but he catches your wrist as you pull back, shaking his head lazily. 

“Don’t go far,” Joel murmurs. “Just gotta catch my breath, alright? And then I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll be seein’ stars.”

thank you for reading! x

[yunhoszn]

motive

PAIRING choi san x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.37k

GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending

SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.

MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔

“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”

You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 

With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 

Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 

Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.

You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.

He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.

”Do you think you could bench me?”

A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 

You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 

There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.

”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.

”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”

”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.

San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”

Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”

Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”

He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 

“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”

Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 

“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 

“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”

“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.

”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”

It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”

When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.

You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 

He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 

“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”

You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 

He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 

“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 

Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 

There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 

You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”

“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 

San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 

“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 

“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”

You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”

“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”

Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 

After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 

“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 

You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 

“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”

Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 

“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”

He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…

Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”

“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”

You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 

Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 

“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 

“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 

“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 

“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 

“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”

Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 

“I would love nothing more.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[toxicanonymity]

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  

-

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  

You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?” 

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 

She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  

If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 

Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  

Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 

"What?" You ask 

"You should block Chad." 

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  

Chad: miss u already. 

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 

-

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 

You have no idea.  

Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 

-

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  

-

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.” 

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  

“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.  

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 

"One what?"

"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 

"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 

"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  

-

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything. 

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  

You still don't say anything. 

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.  

-

“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  

He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.

 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 

"The whole thing." You nod at it.  

He pulls the fabric back. 

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 

He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 

He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  

“Thirsty?” he breathes. 

“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  

“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 

-

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 

-

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  

How devious of him.  

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 

-

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C’mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[juyeonszn]

CLOSE TO ME, I’M CLOSE TO YOU

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.46k

GENRES literally just fluff

WARNINGS no 18+ warning this time 🙀, despite it being KIND OF suggestive at one point, it really isn’t anything that constitutes a warning, brother’s best friend trope, (fr)enemies to lovers trope, good ol’ fashioned sneaking around, mild swearing, tbh this is really cute and like i wanna throw up bc when is it my turn </3

SUMMARY despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his.

MORE LOLLL IM INSANE I KNOW U CAN ALL THROW TOMATOES AT ME 😍😍🙏i literally wrote this in 2 hours call me william shakespeare :P um anyway here u go anon! here’s your request from my 100 followers event <3 prompts used are: 1, 15 🙌

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

“What’s the purpose of that top if it barely covers anything?”

You glance over at Hyunjae with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “First of all, who the hell are you to judge what I’m wearing? Second of all, why are you looking?”

“Okay, gross, I would never look at you like that. You’re a child.” He gags, his lips curling downward into a grimace. You roll your eyes.

“And you’re old. Find a new comeback, Jaehyun.”

“Here they go again. And with the government name, too, that’s crazy.” Juyeon snorts from his spot on the floor. Eric bursts into an unnecessary amount of laughter, slapping his shoulder aggressively. The older male winces, muttering a small ‘Ow’.

Sangyeon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and pausing the movie that you were currently watching. He deadpans at the two of you. “Do I really have to play referee right now? In the middle of movie night?”

You both send puppy dog eyes and big smiles his way, because no matter how fun it was going at each other’s throats, it was never worth the scolding from your older brother. Sometimes you feared his wrath more than your own parents, and that’s considering the fact that you were a grown adult. He gives you a warning look before resuming the film.

The funny thing about being four years younger than your brother was the way you shared a friend group. Upon entering university, you befriended two rambunctious boys who happened to be on the baseball team with Sangyeon. Thankfully, you’d been close your whole life, so it wasn’t too big a deal when you all started hanging out. It was kind of convenient since you lived in the same house.

As the movie continues, you glance over at Hyunjae, whose chin is resting on his palm. God, his stupid face pissed you off so easily. Just looking at it riled you up unprovoked. He was lucky he was best friends with your brother (and also all of your friends), or else you might’ve killed him at this point. To be completely honest, there were a couple times you almost did.

Towards the end of the night, everyone started settling down and getting ready to go to bed. A couple of the guys usually slept in the living room, there were a couple in the guest room, and then whoever else was left crashed in your brother’s room with a futon or air mattress. Being the only girl had its special perks— i.e., you got to have your bedroom all to yourself.

It’s about an hour and a half after you’ve parted ways with the boys that you hear the familiar creak of your door opening. A warm body sneaks under the covers behind you, wrapping their arms around your torso and pressing their lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Took you long enough, Lee Jaehyun,” you murmur, side eyeing him while you shut your phone off and place it on your nightstand. “I almost fell asleep.”

“Stop calling me that,” he pouts, groaning into the crook of your neck when you giggle at his childish behavior. “You sound like my mom getting mad at me when I was a kid.”

Okay; silly story time. Hyunjae and yourself truly started off hating each other. He was a pretentious know-it-all and he despised being wrong. He always had to get the last word and he argued with you like his life depended on it. To you, he was your older brother’s insufferable best friend and you wanted nothing more than to strangle the living daylights out of him.

His first impression of you wasn’t that much different. He thought you were an over-confident spoiled brat who had zero filter. You enjoyed picking fights with him just because you knew it irritated him like nothing else. To him, you were his best friend’s annoying younger sister and he wanted to put a muzzle on you so he could shut you up for once.

The pair of you were like fire and gasoline, a deadly combination that the universe made a mistake putting together. Your friends were amused by your constant bickering, but it drove your brother insane.

One day, in an attempt to get you to bond, Sangyeon had sent Hyunjae to pick you up from a friend’s apartment after working on a project. The entire car ride was filled with insults left and right, neither of you paying attention to the angry grey cloud in the sky above you. Before you knew it, it was pouring down so hard that Hyunjae could hardly see through the windshield.

He pulled over into an empty lot to wait it out, but even that storm wasn’t enough to quell the rage warring in both of you. Your fight started back up, this time more heated than the previous.

You liked to think you weren’t a woman of many flaws. However, you proved yourself incorrect this go around. Your single flaw was your inability to bite your tongue and keep your thoughts to yourself. So, when Hyunjae told you to ‘Shut the Fuck Up’, your response wasn’t what it should’ve been.

Instead you said; “Make me.”

And well, make you he did.

He kissed you with such force, the back of your head almost collided with the car window. You pulled away from each other to process exactly what had just transpired, realizing that all this detestation, all this animosity and rival shit had just been poorly disguised lust. All that tension was because you loathed the other and wanted them to die a slow painful death, it was because you wanted to go at it like jackrabbits.

After another few minutes of making out and waiting for the rain to subside, you both noticed that it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Hyunjae licked his lips and traced your own with the tip of his finger, grinning. “We won’t be missed for a couple hours, we should take advantage of that.”

In your head, that was a completely logical conclusion that you quickly agreed with. And so, that was the beginning of your secret relationship with Lee Hyunjae, your brother’s best friend and your supposed enemy.

“You and your bed are so much more comfy than the pull out in your living room. I kinda feel bad for Juyeon and Changmin.” He rubs circles into your waist with his thumb, wrapping his arms tighter around your middle.

“Hey, I’m not opposed to kicking you out and making you sleep in a sleeping bag like Sunwoo and Eric.” You tsk, turning in his embrace to face him.

He gasps in feign offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug, sighing dramatically. “Apparently, I’m a child and you would never look at me a certain way.”

“I was just joking, baby,” he laughs and good God, you’re down bad if just the sound of his laugh has butterflies erupting in your stomach. “I gotta make sure everyone thinks I still find you aggravating. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, you know.”

You bat your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Hyunjae smiles at you, differently than all the others he’s shown you before. It’s tender, gentler than what you’re used to from the brunette. His eyes are a softer shade of brown, mocha colored irises that stare at you with so much admiration that even the darkness of your room couldn’t overshadow. The moonlight peeking in from your curtains illuminates his features perfectly.

“I know I don’t tell you that often, but you mean a lot to me, Y/N,” he suddenly confesses. “Sneaking around and not being able to show the world that you’re mine is so fucking difficult, but if you’re not ready, then I’m okay with it. I want you to be happy when you’re with me, all the time. You make it all worth it.”

“Hyunjae…” Your bottom lip juts out, your heart swelling with so many emotions. His eyes flicker down to your mouth and he closes the gap between you, leaving a sweet kiss that manages to knock out all the air from your lungs.

He peppers kisses to your cheeks, nose, and the crown of your head until your breathing has evened and you’ve fallen asleep. His favorite part of sleeping over was getting to see this, you laying in his arms peacefully. It served as a reminder for him that despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his. He whispers one last thing to you before calling it a night himself, though he’s sure your sleep is too deep to register it.

“I love you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[aphroditesmoon]

sea, swallow me (part II)

jacaerys velaryon x fem!velaryon!reader

part 3

summary: when jacaerys finally meets the hidden bastard of corlys velaryon, he loses interests in his betrothed Baela and intends to make her aunt his, but are you really what your family has made you up to be?

warnings: this fic is inspired by the movie 'song of the sea', CANON DIVERGENCE, slowburn, aged up jace (18 yrs old), reader has selective mutism (she CAN talk), reader is 5 years older than jace, selkie! reader, reader's race is NOT specified(adopted!reader), cursing, nsfw content in future chapters,typical ASOIAF sexism, typical asoiaf targcest.

a/n: if u can't swim irl its okay, me neither, thats why we have fanfics, to pretend we can.

taglist: @marytargaryen , @cdragons , @libdarkheart , @bellstwd , @dianxiaxiexie

♧♣︎♧

They'd all call you a liar and a child if you'd tell them that from where you're standing right now, inside of your father's study with Rhaena, you could hear the ocean waves vividly. You could feel them splash onto the sand as clear as it sounds in your ears.

But unfortunately, the enchanting sounds of the sea had been cut short once your father started to speak. "No." A short but loud enough answer to send shivers on your skin. "It doesn't have to be long, she could sail back here after a moon-"

"You wish her to leave for a whole moon?" He asks in a storm of a voice, silencing Rhaena. "I've kept her here for her own protection. You have no idea how much we've already compromised with the feast-"

"Then why have it at all?" The younger girl snaps, out of anyone's expectation. "Why go all the way for the damn feast just to lock her up again? Do you ever intended to ever let her see outside of Driftmark?" She challeges him boldly. He is quiet.

"And what of marriage? She is two and twenty. Will you ever wed her to anyone?"

You turn your face down, avoiding looks from either of them. "Never." You hear him whisper, too low for Rhaena's ears. "You don't understand anything, you are a child. "

"I am no child, and you shall not treat me as one! What will happen once you die? Who will she have then?" Corlys slaps his hand loudly againts the desk as he gets up. "That is enough, I'll have you here no more, go pack your things like you should. My answer is final." Rhaena opens her mouth to defy him again but pauses when she feels you pulling her by her arm. You gently lead her out the room and pressed a kiss by her temple before shutting the doors close.

You walk towards Corlys the same time you hear Rhaena walks away from the chamber. Your father eyes your movements, as if scared you'd jump him. "You think me cruel." He says matter of factly. You shook your head once you're in front of him. "I think you're irrational." The man sighs loudly at the sound of your voice and slumps himself on the chair.

"I can take care of myself." He raises a brow at you. "I don't doubt it. But these men, they- what if they started asking the wrong questions? What will you say then?"

You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. "I'll say nothing. And I'll walk away."

"That's not good enough." The wind was howling so strongly that the curtains was flowing inside from the window. "It's good enough to me! Rhaena is right, I am trapped here, I have nothing, no purpose, no one who needs me." He nears you with a sadness in his gaze. "I need you." "No you don't." You roll your eyes. "In 5 days you'll leave to sail for god knows how many moons, and I'll be left alone again- and don't say I have Rhaenys, I do not."

Your father turns quiet again before turning his back from you. "I love you, and I know more than you do of this world. Leave and never ask me of this again."

You were stunned by his conclusion. A bitter laugh spills from your throat. "You're kidding me?" He says nothing.

"I ask for this one thing. One thing, and you can't even do this for me." You move towardd the door to leave him until he calls for you again. "Wait-"

You twist your neck to look at him, cheeks wet and eyes angry. "You were gone last night. Rhaena said she couldn't find you. At the same time Baela had trouble searching for Jacaerys-" you sigh loudly. "Are you really asking me what I think you are?" Your voice was hostile and mean. "I do not wish to make assumptions-"

"Then don't. I was in my chambers, I wasn't feeling well. And as for the prince, how would I know?" That seemed a good enough answer to satisfy Corlys as he asked nothing more before you slammed his door.

A cage was what these beautiful walls are to you. Once upon a time you had thought it enough. Now, you wanted more.

♧♣︎♧ what happened that night

The night of the feast was better than the eve of it. You weren't lying when you said that you've left to your chambers. You did for a good few minutes. Before you snatched your coat and slipped through the window.

Your feet was fast and strong, a swimmer's feet, Laenor once joked. A sharp pain attacked your chest. How peaceful the night sea was when everyone is inside. You could still hear the distant music and laughing crowds. It was beautiful.

The moon felt like a mirror as you stepped one foot at a time inside the water, walking towards the giant reflective shape. You slipped the coat over yourself, and then ducked into the water, swimming further and further before sinking down.

Jacaerys was slow. His hands were quicker, a knight's strength. His father once told him. He's not sure if it's true anymore.

He had hid behind the walls of the corridor that led to your room, waiting for you to leave. When he heard no sounds, he moved toward the stone railing that gives him direct view to the ocean. He sees something huddled on the sand, something that looked like your dress. So he doesn't think twice like he usually does and makes a quick escape down to the sea.

Once he's finally down to the sands, he jogs towards what he then confirmed are your clothes.

"My lady?" He calls out to nothing. There wasn't any sight of you anywhere. If you were swimming, how far could you have gone? "A pretty bad time to swim." He mutters to himself.

Picking up your dress, he puffes it and shook the sands out before swinging it over his shoulder. I'll wait. He tells himself. No one can swim underwater for that long.

So he does. Sitting down on the sand, he lets his eyes do the roaming, trying to spot you in the clear empty sea. Little waves were all there were for a while. Until soon a minute and two passes, and even the waves are dying down, he starts to worry.

Did you drown yourself? On purpose? Is that why this whole feast was held for? A last goodbye party before you killed yourself? He jumps up and throws your your dress off before taking his thickly sown clothes along.

Jacaerys is running into the water now, he's moving as fast as he can, searching through his left and right for any signs of you. The water was reaching his waist now, he takes a deep breath and dives in. He swims slowly, eyes wide open as he searches all around him. Once his lungs feels as though they've caught fire, he gives in and rises back up, coughing out water.

"My lady?" He yells slightly, still coughing. "My lady?" He tries again louder, walking further into the sea.

His heart was beating so fast he was sure it'd jump out. She's dead at the bottom of the ocean. Because you're too late.

His fingers were clenching at his side, shaking whilst also feeling the urge to punch someone. Once his breath has recovered themselves, he stares straight at the moon, and calls out for you again.

"My lady-" "Why are you yelling?" A voice beside him shouts.

Jacaerys jolts and turns to his left, taking in the view of your head above the water on his further left. "My lady." He gasps out, a relieved sigh leaving him.You watches as his body relaxes and he starts to walk towards you.

"What are you doing? Its half past midnight." He scolds you like a child, the strangeness between you both makes it feel worse, earning him a frown from you. "What's it to you?" You snapped, backing away from him when he's close. Jacaerys almost backs away when he remembers you were naked, but halts when he sees the white material covering you. "What- did you bring a coat? To swim?" Your eyes widen and your mouth opens to defend yourself but nothing came.

"It helps me swim." You decided finally.

He stares at you as if you're crazy. "Oh my god, I was right. You were trying to kill yourself." Your frown deepens and you raise your hand to slap his bicep before swimming further from him. "Why would I do that, you idiot? And what are you doing here? Following me and making accusations, I should tell my father of your behaviour." You yell louder at him.

He's startled by the confidence in your voice, a few minutes ago, he was certain you were mute, now he's been proven wrong. "You- you can talk." He breathes out, the realization hitting him late. "Why wouldn't you talk earlier?"

You shook off strands of your wet hair off your face. "Because I don't like talking to stupid men." Jacaerys bursts out laughing, againts his better judgement. "And such blatantly rude way of talking too!" He's bewildered by his discovery of you. "You think you're so funny? We'll see who's laughing when my father hears of this."

"I thought you tried to kill yourself! And with that heavy arse coat, you probably were. Have you tire of your life so much or did Dalton Greyjoy's annoying voice made you think the only way it could disappear from your memory is by death?"

He thought he'd done it then. Jacaerys was anything but courteous as the moment, but he had to ask, the whole situation was so amusing and bizarre that he had to. But then he notices your eyes squinting together whilst the frown had disappeared, and your lips were no longer pouting, it was grinning widely.

You were laughing. In fact, he's sure you could've woken up a deadly whale by your laugh. Not for how loud it was, but for how beautiful.

He's never heard anyone laugh like a melody. He understood now the songs he heard written of sirens luring sailors to their ends. For he'd drown there and then if you'd ask him to, with the same voice. You laughed again when you saw how stupidly he was smiling at you.

You're both in the deep waters, half naked with the moon at your feets. And you wondered if anyone had even noticed your disappearence or have wines made it's effect on them. "You're shirtless." You spoke then, after you've calmed down. His cheeks pinked as he puts on an annoyed face. "I- I was going to save you." You laughed again, right on his face as you finally swam closer.

"Alright, you can stop laughing now, we need to get back." You laughed louder, receiving a sigh from the young prince who finally gave up and moved toward the dry sands.

He snatched his clothing fast before putting it back on, squintinng at your floating head as you still stayed in the water. "Come on, get dressed." He tried to tell you as strict as he could sound. "I'm not changing in front of you, squid hands." His head jolts back at the insult. Were you calling him touchy or were you insulting his hands?

"Wha- you know, just- here's the dress, alright? I'll turn around."

He did as he said as you dressed yourself quickly and started walking to the castles without saying anything. The prince chases after you once he notices you've walked off, his footsteps making a mark on the sand. "What, no more talking?" You say nothing and shoved him off until he falls onto the sand when he tries to goad you.

Your face turns to your side as you try to hide your laugh when you hear him rolling off the grounds with a loud oof. "I'll get you for that-" he yells, voice sounding distant as you scrambled to the nearest stairs to your room, away from him.

♧♣︎♧

The first time you've been on a ship, was a few moons after you were claimed as Corlys' bastard. He wanted to see how you'd react to the sea. And his heart skipped when he sees how much you adored it and the ship. It was a sail to Kingslanding, you came with guards on your own, the queen's face was one so blurry, you can't recall how she looked like. But she was kind, despite the stern edge in her voice.

You were locked in a given chamber and had not seen or met anyone else besides the servants. Once time was up, you went back home with your father.

You never told him, or anyone. But being on that ship had brought back nightmares of your mother's death. Sailors were going mad that day. You were only 5, your mother and many other sea creatures had been caught by sailors. And not the usual ones.

Royal sailors.

They were more violent than the usual ones, they threw back many dead sea animals into the sea again. You presumed they weren't deemed good enough for the royalties. Your mother had disappeared for two days, she wasn't caught with the others and was instead snatched during her run from them. A singular harsh net pulled her up, and you saw the large but less noisy ship took her away from you.

When she finally came back, it was in the form of a corpse, and a woman. Her selkie coat was gone, and she had a straight line of a wound in between her chest. Dried up blood stained her along with your unseen tears.

If Corlys had known, he'd be much more insistent in seperatimg you fron the Targaryens, as it was their sigil on the ship.

But you were too young to be sure of what you'd seen, and too confused to point fingers towards anyone.

Evening had come, It was time for Rhaena to leave to Dragonstone with her family. You weren't going to send her off with your father as planned. You refuse to. That'll show him.

Dressed in your nightdress already, you groaned lowly when you heard a knock on the doors of your chambers.

You waited 10 seconds before walking up to answer it, counting with your fingers so you wouldn't seem desperate or too quick to accept your father's apology.

You almost flinch when the door opens to reveal Daemon Targaryen. He looks as confused as you are as he takes in your already sleepy appearance. "Why aren't you dressed to go yet?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"Ah." Daemon relaxes and hia knowing smirk returns to his face. "He purposely didn't tell you, that old cow. I've talked to your father, he's allowing you to come."

You continue to stare at him dumbly. Was he trying to kidnap you without your father's knowing. "I speak the truth when I tell you, he said yes. I also speak the truth when I say that the ship is leaving soon and you have barely half an hour to get dressed and packed."

Your eyes widen at the time given and spared him no thanks before you slam the door on his face and rush to your closet.

Was that all it took? A few insults (probably) from the rogue prince to get him to surrender? It didn't matter. You were leaving this box of a life, and you were going to make friends out of these people.

When the sharp memory of Jacaerys' face flashes on your mind. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to forget him. Soon enough after seeing his face on a daily, you'll tire of him. You're sure of it.

[devilscastle69]

panic! at the drugstore (j/jk, nanami)

hiiiii @ezynse merry xmas, happy new year, happy day. <3

im ur secret santa. <33 i hope u like this fic. ily. i want u to know the j key on my keyboard is challenged so i wrote "Goo" by accident sm ToT

(sorry for the title i dont even rlly listen to them i- )

please keep this to sneeze kink blogs only! 18+ only!

Summary stuff:

Fandom: J/JK

Characters: Nan//ami, Go/jo, Ijic/hi, Yu/ji,

Pairings: slight nana/go. in the way la croix has flavor

Good future AU (no bad stuff, everyones an adult. set in 2023)

As soon as Nanami detected Gojo’s presence, he should have turned on his heel and left. Instead, he’d gone into the drugstore, reasoning that the necessity of his trip outweighed the aggravation it’d cause. He wasn’t naive enough to hope he’d get out of here without any additional psychic damage but maybe he’d luck out and Gojo would— 

“Nanami!” Gojo sang from a few aisles over. This was starting to play out like one of his nightmares. Verbatim. “Wow, you shop here too?!” 

“Not anymore.” 

Gojo laughed easily and brushed off the obvious rejection with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not happy to see your best buddy!”

“I have no such thing.” Nanami sighed and drew out a cough in the process which he managed to muffle into the sleeve of his jacket. Anyone else would have read the room and left him alone, but Gojo continued to chatter on at a volume unfit for the public space they were in. If only he’d move back a few centimeters so Nanami could escape without having to push past him and potentially causing a bigger scene than they’re already causing. He’d already used up his energy—both cursed and otherwise—at work today and he was quickly fading. 

 For the first time, he wished he could focus on the bubblegum pop blasting through the speakers with its sentiments of Sakura blossoms and old times; it would beat trying to follow the embellished story Gojo was telling. He pinched the bridge of his nose. To make matters worse, the temperature change had caused the congestion that had mostly settled by the end of the train ride over here to return with a vengeance. His nose threatened to drip and he risked a small sniffle. Immediately, he recognized it as a mistake when the lingering prickle sharpened and traveled deeper into his nose.

As if he hadn’t sneezed enough today. 

“And after all that I got some wagashi at this great place near the hospital, Great Luck right? And haha it was! Anyway, the point is… I got some stuff for Yuji, but then I got hungry waiting for the car so I figured I’d better make up for it.”

Nanami made a point of checking his watch as a last ditch effort for a polite departure, less for Gojo’s sake and more for the sake of everyone else in this godforsaken store. But most of all for his own sake, considering he’s quickly losing the battle against the pertinent tickle up his right nostril. “I don’t have time to talk,” he said evenly, breath only wavering once he’s gotten the last word out. 

Unfortunately, Gojo clasped his shoulder, refusing to let him leave. “Did you take the train here? We could carpool instead, Ijichi is—”

“ht’KKxt!” Nanami interrupted with a poorly restrained sneeze directed into the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Bless you!” Gojo’s head lolled to the side; he had the decency to release him, but otherwise didn’t move out of his personal space. Nanami nodded and turned away. “Wow, that sounded painful. You okay?”

It was. “hGNXt’ch! h’kKt…chh.” Damnit. “Hh- kmpht’Chhh!” He might not have been able to see Gojo’s eyes, but he sure could feel them on him. This tickle just wasn’t going to quit until he let it out, and he’d rather end this as soon as possible. “h’eSCHh!” 

“Oh bless you.” Gojo, ever uncaring of displaying any decorum, took zero steps away from him. He examined him from a few different angles, tapping his chin as he hovered. “Bet I can guess why you’re here today!”

“Excuse me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed small circles all the way into the inner corners of his eyes and tried to ignore the heat that had risen to his ears. His head pounded even harder than it had before. 

“Always so formal, huh?”

Always so inappropriately casual, huh? Nanami glanced at Gojo’s basket and its contents: strawberry shampoo, bags of candy, winter apple body wash, face masks, moisturizer, cotton candy flavored lip gloss, and more items he couldn’t quite make out, but surely none of them were essential enough to inconvenience Ijichi in the way Gojo was. Everything he’s learned about Satoru Gojo has been against his will, and now he’s horrified that his brain was wasting the time wondering if he’s one of those people who can’t go to the store and truly buy one item.

“So, how was your—”

“I don’t have time to talk. Excuse me.” Risking a shoulder check, Nanami walked towards the aisles. He tried not to sniffle more than strictly necessary and tried to ignore the extra set of footsteps behind him. Key word was tried.

“Oh wow, you really sound terrible.” Gojo said sympathetically, continuing to haunt Nanami all the way to the cold and flu aisle. “How long have you had that cold?”

Why did it have to be Gojo?

“Stop following me.”

“You forgot your basket, though.” 

So he did. “I don’dt need that much.” It was true, but Nanami accepted the basket anyway from the pouting man. 

“Mm, really? You kinda sound like you’re dying, y’know.” Gojo wandered around the aisle and picked up a box of medicine that he held up to his blindfolded eyes. “No offense.” A man started walking in their direction, took one look at Gojo, and immediately turned around. Nanami released a small forlorn sigh through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be finde.” he said, clearing his throat. He could curb the hoarse quality his voice had taken on, but the congestion was something he’d have to live with for now. “You mentionded Ijichi is waiting?”

“Yeah, so hurry up, Nanami!”

“I will n’dot be ri-ridi’hhgg wih—” He’d gotten distracted and hadn’t noticed that the itch from before had been slowly respawning. Gojo gave a questioning hum as Nanami his knuckle to his nose, sniffled sharply, and cleared his throat again. “I will not be riding with you.”

 “Aw, not with me?” 

Nanami shot him a glare. All of his efforts were in vain because the urge to sneeze returned with a vengeance and demanded his attention in a way that put Gojo’s efforts to shame. The prickle spread like wildfire through his sinuses, and in spite of his efforts in snuffing it out, he’d allowed himself to get distracted enough to give the enemy the advantage. “Hh-!” He inhaled sharply before shoving the back of his wrist up to his nose. “nGhthsCH! hh’NGXTCHh’ueh!” That last one had been particularly loud but had been just as unrelieving as its predecessors. “hehH’TSChhiuh!”

 Gojo patted his back. There was a warmth to his palm that Nanami could feel even through the layers of fabric acting as a buffer between them. “Bless you.” Using only his free hand, he easily broke the seal of a travel pack of tissues on the shelf and nudged a few tissues into Nanami’s palm.

“You’re supposed to pay first.” In spite of the protest, he fixed his glasses that were in danger of falling off his face and accepted the tissues; by noon, his handkerchief had become unusable and he’d already gone through the tissues he’d accepted at the train station this morning, so his options were limited. He turned away for a moment to blow his nose. While his efforts were productive, they did little to kill the taunting buzzing in the back of his nose. He pinched his nostrils shut from behind the tissue and willed the tickle to recede.

“Not yet! Hey if I buy your stuff will you ride with me? Wouldn’t you get back sooner that way? Oh, bless—”

“hh’MPHtchh!”

“—you again!”

He took a moment to massage the bridge of his nose in a silent apology to himself for the poor attempt at stifling before clearing his throat and bringing up sodden tissue to wipe the lingering moisture from the red rims of his nostrils. 

No amount of free cold medicine would make spending his free time with this absolute menace in a small enclosed space worth it, but at the same time it’d be less aggravating for him to just go along with it in the long run. Gojo’s already made it clear he has no intention of leaving him alone. He gave half a nod and picked up the first bottle of cold medicine that he saw and a bag of face masks and took a few steps in the direction of the check out. 

“That’s all you’re buying?” Gojo asked. His lips formed an exaggerated frown and his forehead wrinkled as if he was bewildered by Nanami’s shopping habits.

Nanami was too busy fighting a losing battle against the threat of another sneeze to tell Gojo to stop adding more items to the basket, but he managed to shoot him a pointed glare before his expression crumpled. “Hh- hehhH- …mPHTtshhiuh! Pardon,” he said more out of habit than anything and wiped his nose again, “I have more than enough now.” 

“So frugal.”

He supposed the cough drops, vicks, lotion tissues, vitamins, and nasal spray wouldn’t hurt, especially if accepting them will get Nanami out of here faster. Since he’d already opened the tissues, he figured he might as well put on one of the masks in the pack. His glasses immediately fogged and he tucked them into his inner coat pocket.

After they’d approached the register Gojo told the cashier they would be paying together and nuzzled his cheek against Nanami’s shoulder in an intimate way. He’d smack him later. 

The cold pierced through Nanami’s coat as soon as they opened the door. As annoying as this situation is, he can’t say he’s upset that he won’t have to walk back to the train station. They turned a corner and Gojo pointed out the car. 

“I know, I know.” Gojo opened the door to the passenger side and abruptly wrapped an arm around Nanami’s shoulder, yanking him into the field of vision as if he’d run away. “That took a little longer than I said, but look who I ran into!”

“Nanamin!” Itadori called out from the back seat with a cheery wave. Nanami is just as surprised to see him, though he’d mostly tuned out Gojo’s story. “No way, what a coincidence!”

Nanami shot Gojo a withering look and gave a slight bow to Itadori. “Itadori-kun…” 

“Think fast!” Gojo called out and threw a bag of candy at Itadori. 

He caught it easily. “Wow, thank you, Gojo-sensei!” 

“Gojo-san, we were meant to be back over a half hour ago—“

“Ijichiiii, you need to relax. Seriously, you’re already getting frown lines, that’s no good. Look, I even got something for you. Tadaaa~” He dropped a pack of instant udon into his lap and a face mask and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “Can you drop Nanami Kento-kun off first?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Ijichi sighed and took a moment before he half-heartedly thanked Gojo for the gifts. Then he turns to look at the backseat. “Of course, Nanami-san.” He and Nanami shared a quick glance as the cause of their stress tore into his own pack of candy and ate it noisily. 

“Oh, why are you wearing a mask, Nanamin?” Itadori asked as Nanami sat next to him and put on his seatbelt. “Do you have a cold?”

“It’s alright,” Nanami assured him and cleared his throat, “just a mild one.”

“I dunno if mild is the right word there, Nanamin.” Gojo interjected as Ijichi finally started driving.  

Itadori’s face fell and Nanami sincerely considered kicking the back of Gojo’s chair, though he was too busy pinching his nose shut over the fabric of the mask to stifle a sneeze that had nearly escaped his detection. “hGXxt’chshh!- excuse me.”

“Bless you. I hope you feel better soon.” Itadori frowned and offered him a piece of candy. Nanami shook his head and Itadori shrugged and ate it himself. 

“You’re gonna pop an eardrum like that,” Gojo chastised, clicking his tongue.

All of this was past the point of the nightmare he’d thought he was having earlier and was starting to veer into the fever dream category. Perhaps in more ways than one. Gojo flicked through the radio stations until he found what he was looking for and started singing along with a pop song. Itadori joined him and they pointed at each other while Nanami reflected on his life choices and folded his arms more tightly over his chest.  

Nanami glanced at Ijichi’s GPS. Twenty minutes of this felt like a death sentence. His limbs had started aching a few hours ago and now that the adrenaline was long dead and he was sitting again, he felt it in full force. The sudden urge to lean his temple against the foggy window arose and he indulged in it, ever so slowly pressing his forehead to the window. 

While Gojo was especially pitchy, the noise at least took the focus off of Nanami as he muffled a series of throat-tearing coughs against the crook of his arm. His lungs gave a slight whine as he regained his breath and he could feel the silent attention the other three men were giving him. 

“Can you breathe okay, Nanamin?” Itadori asked, patting his shoulder. If it were anyone else, Nanami would have batted the hand away, but doing that to Itadori would feel like kicking a puppy and it's not like he was heartless. While most people become hardened and jaded after living the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, Itadori remained as kind and genuine as ever over the years. 

Instead he nodded. “Yes. Don’t worry.” 

Itadori gave him a thumbs up. The singing continued and he pitied Ijichi for how long he’s had to put up with Satoru Gojo today. 

To Gojo’s credit, he toned down the singing, but Nanami almost wished he’d go back to his caterwauling, because his nose had chosen that moment to betray him yet again. It itched like mad and putting pressure on the tip of his nose did nothing to chase the feeling away. He did his best to muffle it into his sleeve anyway, hoping the extra layers would do anything to make it less intrusive than he knew it would be. “Hh- hgzt’SChhiuh! heHMPHhshh’ieuh!- pardon me.”

“Aw, bless you,” Gojo chimed in, stretching out his seatbelt as he turned his body around to face him. “Do you want my jacket, Nanamin?” He puckered his lips.

This time he let his shoe dig into the bag of Gojo’s chair. “No.”

Ijichi quietly turned up the heat. “Give him a break, Gojo-san,” he said tiredly. 

The rest of the ride quite literally blurred together as Nanami fought to keep his eyes open. With the heat on, his chills were kept at bay, and it was easy to drift off to sleep. He jolted and shook himself awake at least three times before the familiar building came into view, and the third time, it’d been because Itadori was saying his name to get his attention. Ijichi pulled up closer and stopped the car. Nanami thanked him for the ride and held up a hand to stop Itadori from offering a side hug. 

“Get well soon, Nana—”

Nanami shut the car door and ignored the rest of Gojo’s sentence. Getting into the apartment was a blur, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d come home in rough shape, relying on autopilot. He immediately hung his jacket and loosened his tie, and then he removed his face mask, cringing as he pinched away the lingering moisture from his nostrils. He’d done his best to avoid rubbing his nose all day, but his efforts seemed to be in vain considering how sore it still was. 

As much as he wanted to just collapse into the couch, his discipline won out and he managed to undress. Though, not without challenge. “huhh…HGSCHh’uh!” He sneezed all over his chest, too slow to cover in his exhausted state. Undeniably, it was a relief to be able to sneeze freely in the privacy of his bedroom. “hh-...hDJtSchh’euh! hhaH’DTzSHhh’ih!” 

He found the tissues from the bag and blew his nose, letting out a slight hum of relief as some of the congestion came free. His eyes still ached and with a quick dose of medicine, he was ready to close them. He laid in bed with the extra throw blanket atop the comforter and waited for the chills to die down so he could sleep.

It  was restful for the first few hours. As he’d anticipated, he woke up in the early hours of the morning coughing, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and his mouth bone dry. 

3 AM. 

It was too early for this. He forces himself into the kitchen to fill a tall glass with water and to find a few more items from the bag. He took the cough drops out and put one in his mouth and placed the rest of the bag on the bedside table. 

Somehow knowing that he needed as much sleep as possible hindered him from doing so. He drifted in and out of sleeping for the entire morning, occasionally walking up mumbling something incomprehensible. 

He was finally asleep until his phone went off a few minutes past 6 AM. It wasn’t his alarm, but an obnoxious ding.

Gojo: 

heyyy nanamin~ 

… Nanami clenched his jaw as he watched the animated ellipses bubble and waited to see what could possibly be so important to disturb him.

Gojo:

good morning! 🌞hope u get some rest today hahaha :D you sounded awful 🤒dont go dying </3

Typically jujutsu sorcerers have about as much paid sick leave as he would’ve had at his former company: basically none. What kind of fucked up—

Nanami frowned, realizing he’d missed some other notifications, including the ones canceling his mission for the day. It’s easy to put the pieces together. He had to put the phone down to sneeze a few times, and it continued to ding throughout his fit.

Gojo:

we’ll have to go out when youre better!! next friday?? theres a new barcade i wanna try and then KARAOKE!!!!!! :DDD

Gojo:

Nanamiiiiii D: 

Gojo:

don’t leave me on read

Gojo:

bless youuuuu :3

Gojo:

no i cant hear u im just guessing

Gojo:

was i right?? o.O 

Nanami silenced his phone and went back to sleep, deciding to address the new situation, along with the strange feelings that’d started coming up, later. For now, at least he could relax. 

Nanami:

Thank you.

[augustghosts]

Plastic Trees

Tommy Miller x Fem!reader

Ok, I’m sooo nervous to post this lmao. I’ve convinced myself that it sucks. This isn’t everyone's cup of tea so make sure you read the warnings! I did the classic me thing by wanting to get right into the story, so there isn’t much of a backstory here but I have future chapters planned (and may have already started writing them) if anyone is interested. So let me know if you enjoy and want more <3 Thank you for reading!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+! This isn’t proof read so lmk if u spot any dire mistakes. Kidnapping duh, kind of dark!tommy i guess? Or maybe just very ooc. guns and swearing and all that typical tlou stuff. Reader is an adult, obviously. Handjob, slight voyeurism, face fucking.

This is the worst part. Night time, or at least she thought it was night time. The countdown to morning, wondering if they will even come back down. Wondering if this was the night they pack up and leave, leaving her to die alone down here. The basement was always dark, day or night. But these next few hours were the worst, it would get quiet. No footsteps or shouting. Only a few steps every now and then of whoever was up to keep watch while everyone else slept.

She knew who was on watch tonight, it must be Tommy. She knows this now, she's been down here long enough to know their patterns. She knows it’s Tommy because every hour or so the footsteps sound above her and a shadow appears at the basement door. It lingers for a while and then retreats. She wonders what he thinks, is he toying with her? Is he just trying to listen? See what she’s doing? Or, does his hand linger over the door knob, does he ever think about coming down? Does he ever think about letting her out?

She’s convinced that he does. Or maybe she’s convinced herself that to make herself feel better, either way - Tommy is different. He has softer eyes than his brother. He asks her if she’s okay, despite her answer always being something along the lines of go fuck yourself. Tommy is the only one who actually told her his name. His brother Joel, she only knows after hearing Tommy say it. All of this - Tommy looking at her sweetly and sneaking her extra food is what led to this. She's crouched at the bottom of the stairs. Tommy’s silhouette is lingering by the door. A few seconds and he retreats. His footsteps echo above her, getting quieter as he reaches the other side of the house. Her heart is hammering in her chest, her blood rushing as she steps up onto the first stair. The wood creaks under her, the same way it does when one of them walks down them. She cringes - she listens. When she hears nothing above her, she takes a chance and steps up onto the next one.

She knows the door isn’t locked. The world was years into an apocalypse, this house is run down. The closest thing they had to a lock was making her believe there was someone on the other side 24/7. And usually, there was. Until night, she guesses they think she's asleep - so they would wander around the house. They go stand by the front door instead, keeping watch.

As she ascends the steps, Tommy is above her. Leaning against the dirty kitchen counter. His gun on the old marble in front of him. Easy job, my ass, he thinks. The day he stops listening to Joel is the day he will know peace. Kidnapping someone, locking them in a basement and waiting to hand her off to a group of fuckers who are planning to do god knows what. This is not an easy job. As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind blows over the house and it creaks. The shitty windows sound awful as the rain pounds against it. Fuck this. He wants to go home. He straightens up and swings his gun back in over his shoulder, planning to do another lap of the house as boredom takes over him.

He freezes as he hears a familiar squeak. It’s not the house this time, it’s those damn noisy basement stairs. He walks slowly, quietly - and peeks around the corner down the hallway. The door is closed. He peeks round into what used to be the living room of this house, Joel and the rest of their group are asleep on the floor and on various old couches. He’s still frozen in place, listening. Another creak echoes from the hallway. He creeps closer, obviously more stealthy than the person on the stairs. Another creak as they reach the top stair, he knows the sound is more hollow than the rest of the stairs. He dips into another room as the basement door handle begins to turn slowly. Her hesitation is obvious, the door is opened slowly - she’s slow, not wanting it to make too much of a noise.

She looks out into the hallway, holy shit - it’s empty. She can see the front door from where she’s standing. She knows the lounge is on the left, and she knows they’re all in there. She can hear the rain and wind up here too. Shit, she’s wearing a shitty pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The same thing she had been wearing since they snatched her up. She opens the door wider and takes a step out, the house is silent. Where the fuck did Tommy go? She takes a few more quiet steps, excitement building inside of her. Excitement to feel the rain and wind on her skin. Excitement to go home.

Her pathetic excitement turns to pure fear and adrenaline as she hears the familiar click of a shotgun beside her. As she passes a dark room on the right of her, a cold metal barrel is pressed to the side of her head. Her hands instinctively rise up, surrender.

“Turn around.” Tommy’s familiar voice - he’s quiet, trying not to wake the others. Her hand flexes at her side, contemplating grabbing the gun. What would she do with it? She has no fucking clue. But she’s so close to the front door.

“Don’t.” He says. “Just turn around.”

“Please, Tommy.” She tries. Her voice was shaking. He almost felt bad. She turned to look at him, face to face with the gun aimed at her head.

“Please what?” He’s still whispering. His voice was deeper than usual when he did.

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, right. Turn around.” He scoffs. Stepping out into the hallway and blocking her way. He’s much taller than her, his height is intimidating as he towers over her, crowding her back down into the basement. She takes a few steps back as he takes a few forward.

“The door is right there. You- you could let me go.” She tries to bargain as he continues to walk forwards, forcing her to walk back into the doorway.

“Oh yeah? And then what? I’m supposed to be on watch, so you escaping is my fault. Then you die out there and we don’t get paid.”

“Please i-“ She starts again, resorting back to pleading with him. She’s so worked up she forgets about the steps. Tommy stops her before she can fall backwards, his large hands reaching around her waist. He’s in charge now, he’s standing in the doorway holding her above the stairs. Blocking her exit, and if he lets go of her - she falls. She’s looking up at him, her eyes big and tearful. Fear evident on her face. Her hands are tightly gripping the front of his jacket, trying to steady herself.

“What now princess?” He says, his voice rumbles.

“Hm?” He prompts as she doesn’t reply. She’s honestly at a loss for words. She’s not sure if it’s because this is not what she planned, or wether is being so close to him like this.

“Are you gonna be good?” He asks. She hates the way her stomach stirs. She wants nothing more than to push him away. “Are you gonna go back down? You don’t have many options.”

She continues to stare at him, weighing her options. She looks at the door behind him and he smirks, an idea popping into his head. He pretends to let her go, one of his arms dropping away from her and slapping over her mouth when she almost screams - thinking he’s about to let her fall down the stairs.

He hauls her up and presses her against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth- the other one gripping her hip tightly. Her hands are still twisted into his jacket, her knuckles turning white. She’s crying now, sobbing behind his hand. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

“I’m going to ask you again.” He whispers. “Are you gonna be a good girl and go back downstairs?”

Her eyes are wide, tears hitting his hand as they fall. She nods slowly, trying to ignore the heat growing between her legs. God, she wishes she had met him in a different situation. He was so beautiful. His dark eyes bore into hers before they flickered downwards. He watches her chest heaving, he feels her eyes on his face and he knows she can feel him. His body is pressed against hers, trapping her against the wall, so he knows she can feel his cock hardening against her.

He lets go of her mouth, bringing his hand down to her throat instead. He leans in, his lips inches from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips but she doesn’t dare move. Fuck, she can’t deny that she wants him to kiss her. Would he let her go if she fucked him? She decides to take her chances. She slowly unwraps her hands from the collar of his jackets. She presses her palms against his chest, for a second he thinks she’s going to try to push him away and he prepares himself to grab her wrists. But his breathing hitches as her hands travel down his stomach and pause at the hem of his shirt.

She looks up at him with the most innocent look she can muster, she searches his eyes for any anger or resistance. He’s doing the same to her, his eyes urging her to carry on. She feels his stomach flex as she slowly lets her hands travel underneath the fabric. How long has it been since someone has touched him? It’s been a while since someone has touched her - just his hand around her neck right now is setting her on fucking fire.

His hand tightens around her throat as she unbuckles his belts and dips her hand into his jeans. Feeling him over his underwear first. Stroking him with a feather light touch. He leans in to press his mouth to her jaw, a quiet moan leaves her lips and she swears she can feel his cock twitch.

“Get on with it.” He mumbles against her skin. Trying to resist biting down into her flesh, not wanting the other guys to see any marks. The other guys - who are only around the corner. If any of them were to wake up and look over here they would see them. Fuck, that turned her on. She hates it.

She reaches into his underwear and grips him tightly. “You're not gonna be gentle with me baby?” He hisses beside her ear, she can hear the smirk in his voice, she feels his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“What do you want me to do?” She whispers, her hand begins to move, jerking him off slowly. He smells like leather and sweat, she whimpers as her clothed tits press against his chest. His nipples are hard and aching.

“Fuck.” He moans into her ear. His hand flexes on her throat before he shocks her by letting go and straightening up. “Get on your knees.”

“Okay.” She mumbles, slowly kneeling down on the dirty floor. The floorboard creaks underneath her and they both freeze for a second. His hands stop in the middle of pushing his jeans down. They both look down the hallway and listen for a second. When they hear nothing- the house is still silent, he continues. Pulling his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out.

Tommy almost feels guilty as she kneels down in front of him. Almost. His cock is so fucking hard and aching that he can’t help himself. He reaches for the back of her head, guiding her mouth towards his length. He can’t help but think about how fucking jealous Joel would be. He’d expressed his attraction to her when they had picked her up, joking about keeping her the group they were waiting for never came.

He almost explodes as she takes his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his slit. Fuck, it really had been a while. But honestly, they didn’t have time for this. Anyone could wake up at any second and all he wanted was to come down her throat. He grasps her hair at the back of her head and pushes her head down until he feels her gag around him. And she lets him. Fuck, she was perfect.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck.” He mumbles through gritted teeth. As she works up a rhythm, sucking him off as best as she can when his hand is still on the back of her head. Applying pressure to stop her from pulling completely away. Tommy is biting his fist to keep himself quiet, his other hand has a painful grip on her hair. He keeps glancing down the hallway, eventually deciding she isn’t being quick enough.

“You’re mouth is amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers as he grasps both sides of her face. He lets her pull away for a second - she knows what he’s about to do. “But, we gotta hurry up.”

He’s already close. His dick hasn’t had anything but his own hand for a long time and the sight of her allowing him to fuck her face has his balls clenching. She has her palms on his thighs, letting him hold her head and thrust in and out of her mouth at his own pace. And his own pace is a rough one. She’s still crying, but now it’s the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat that’s producing the tears. Him using her mouth to get off, she swears she’s never been this turned on in her life.

It’s so fucking wrong. This is one of the men who has had her locked in a basement purely for his own gain for the past couple of weeks. But as she looks up at him, his face flushed, his teeth biting down on his lip as he roughly fucks her face in a disgusting basement - she can’t help but hope he keeps her for himself. She thinks about running away with him. She thinks about him taking her away from all this, ditching his brother and their money and taking her out into the world. She thinks about how he looks pointing his gun at her, how he would look pointing it at someone else to protect her.

She moans around him at the thought, her hand coming down and pressing between her own legs - her jeans stopping her from getting herself off. Her hand eventually goes to her breast instead. Between the sight of her desperately trying to touch herself and the way she moaned around his cock, Tommy is done for. He pauses, forcing her as far down his cock as she can go as he comes down her throat. She feels every drop as it hits the back of her mouth. He pulls his cock out of her mouth but is quick to bring his fingers to her chin, forcing her mouth shut.

“Swallow it.” He says. She does as she’s told. He lets go of her chin when he feels her swallow. She practically collapses backwards, sitting in front of him and breathing heavily. He tucks himself back into his jeans before he crouches down in front of her.

“Shhh. You did good, baby.” He whispers. He caresses her cheek. She looks beautiful like this. She swears she can see the change in his face, his eyes soften and he stands up and holds out his hands. She looks from his palms to his face a few times before it clicks, oh. She takes his hands and lets him help her up. The feeling of him holding her hands making her knees feel like buckling again.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you go.” He says, his grip tightening on her hands.

“I figured.” She nods,her voice slightly hoarse. But suddenly, she feels like she doesn’t want to go. She pulls her hands from his and turns to walk down the stairs. He stops her before he can descend them with a hand on her shoulder. He backs her up against the wall again and she gasps as he slips his hand into her jeans.

“Shit, did sucking me off get you this wet?” He asks, he’s only tracing her pussy through her panties but he can feel the wet spot she’d created. He can feel the heat radiating off of her and he swears he could get hard again.

“I asked you a question.” He says when she whimpers in response.

“Y-yes.” She moans lightly as he traces her clit through the fabric.

“You want me to touch you?”

She bites back a snarky comment of you already are and just nods instead.

“Please, Tommy. Please touch me.” She asks him sweetly.

“Since you were so good for me, i guess you deserve it.” He says. He leans in closer to her face, god - he wants to kiss her. He knows it’s a bad idea but when she leans up to meet him halfway he can’t help himself. Their lips are practically touching, softly brushing against each other - a moan leaving her mouth as he presses harder on her clit, beginning to move his finger in slow, tight circles.

As he’s about to commit and push his tongue into her mouth, some fucker moves in the other room. The sound of shuffling and someone standing to their feet has him ripping his hand out from between her legs. She’s frozen in place for a second, disappointed and shocked. Tommy is picking his gun back up and whispering Go to her and it jumps her into action. She scurries down the stairs as fast as she can, not missing the way he sucks the finger that had been touching her into his mouth.

“You good, Tommy?” A male voice calls down the hall.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” The other man looks at him standing in the basement doorway and then looks into the darkness of the basement behind him.

“Everything okay with her?” The man asks.

“Yeah.” Tommy answers. “I thought I heard her moving around. But everythings fine. She’s asleep.”

The man nods and asks: “You wanna switch?”

Tommy nods and hands his gun over. He needs a fucking nap after that. He needed to think. He watches as the man approaches the basement door. A weird protectiveness washing over him. Shit, this isn’t good. He can’t afford to have a soft spot for her. He snaps out of it and takes the man's place on the couch. The couch is dusty and creaks underneath him and he sighs. He thinks about how the people who had hired them to collect here were supposed to be arriving tomorrow.

Below him in the basement, she’s thinking about it too. As she lays down to sleep, she hopes that Tommy will save her - hopes that he won’t let it happen. That he will sweep her off of her feet and carry her away. Hours later, she’s still hoping. A few minutes ago she had been awoken by yelling and gunshots. She’d been curled up in the corner ever since. Waiting, listening. The basement door swings open and she squeezes her eyes shut as loud footsteps tumble down towards her. Honestly, maybe this was a better end than whatever the people who had hired her to be captured had in mind.

“Hey! It’s me.” Her eyes shoot open, Tommy is standing above her looking even more disheveled than he did last night. He’s breathing heavily - his words rushed.

“What’s happening?” She asks. Tommy looks back up the stairs before extending his gloved hand to her.

“Get up. We need to go. Right fucking now.”

[rist-ix]

I have a question for you what do you think of the quote unquote age gap between Bloom and Valtor?

I had to do alot of research to understand Bloom age when I started to like this ship better than Mr cheater. So here's a brief information dump:

Bloom is 16 in the first episode and its confirm her bday is December 10 (we don't know the the exact year when each girl was born only the fact Stella is the oldest by that logic Bloom is the second youngest out of the group) when we get to season 3 it is confirmed that the girls is in their 3rd semester so that makes Bloom 19 at point. Valtor's age we do not know however I'm going to say at most early 20s from what we know Valtor working with a younger Griffin before he got Popsicled.

Here comes the tricky part. In s4 the girls just finished their semester and graduated making them 20-21. Up until s5 where Nicklodeon had to reboot their age making them 16 again. Flashforward to s8 and that makes Bloom age 19 if you are following the reboot or 23 if you do not follow the reboot. Since we don't know how long Valtor been frozen his mental age is up for debate.

For me personally I don't see Sparxshipping as an Edward and Bella situation as Edward was aging naturally during his years while Valtor was frozen and couldn't age naturally but only mentally.

Okay okay first of all! Your Bloom math checks out and I just realized that I for some reason always thought Bloom is 18 in s3. Which is still possible, I think, I just dont know why I assumed that. Actually no, it works, if she is 16 in s1 she is 17 in s2 and 18 in s3, but we dont know a lot about how the school years work in Magix so I'm gonna jot her down as 18-19 for the remainder of this post.

Still dont know how I passed math btw.

Anyway. Valtor's age is where the real mystery is at. We've got two possibilities in my opinion.

1. He's pulling the ageless immortal card.

My personal go-to for fics and discussions. Love me some 300 year old mommy issues. He has too much practice being a messy bitch, there's no fixing this man folks.

Evidence: There's a flashback showing him with Griffin as a tween: she looks MUCH younger, he looks exactly the same. Unless he also stole the secret magic of the world's most potent anti aging cream, or Griffin's proximity to Faragonda just aged her by three more decades, he does not age.

2. He is the age he looks.

Which, in my humble opinion, would not put him anywhere near twenty. That is a grown man. He's not college age, unless you count college professors under that word. Even if I were good at guessing ages the very stylized art style would throw me for a loop, but im gonna say 40s, give or take. Look at Avalon, look at Codatorta, look at King Radius if u must. That is the age range we're looking at.

Evidence: I dont have any. We're ballin'. I guess it's never explicitly stated he's immortal, which you'd think would be big enough of a deal to mention. If u got something feel free to let me know.

That being said, the Winx Club Wiki page for the canon timeline (ha, good one) puts the time of Valtor's creation in a rough time frame from "Over 17 years before season 1" to "Under 100 years before season 6". So he could technically be anywhere from 17-97, though I'm not sure the upper limit is as reliable as the lower one, given the check-list format of the website. So make of that what you will.

Now that we've got the question of age out of the way, lets get to the age gap. I have no idea what the situation in twilight was to be honest, so I cant compare that.

Realistically, there's at least a decade between Bloom and Valtor. Possibly two decades and change. And that is just from visible age, we can add a few centuries on top of that if we're sticking with the immortal bit. I'm gonna be gonest, I dont think being frozen for 17 years will make a whole lot of difference here.

If you find that icky, which is fair, you can always change that for fics tho! Either turn him into a twenty year old or put Bloom in her milf-era, the options are endless. Personally, I think the age difference is half the fun though, and also the least of their issues. When you're off making out with the objectively worst person in history, wether he's too old for her isnt gonna rank very high on people's list of concerns.

[helloalycia]

the Clarks [three] // alicia clark

summary: now that Nick has finally returned from rehab, you both have to start considering what happens following graduation.

warning/s: mentions of relapsing, drugs and alcoholism.

author's note: it’s a bit late again, my bad! but here’s part 3, hope you like it 🥰

one / two / four / five / masterlist / wattpad

18 years old...

Time had flown so quickly since Nick returned home and, before I knew it, we were counting down the days until graduation. There was only a week left before we'd both be walking onstage to collect our diplomas – something we were both surprised to achieve, but nonetheless grateful.

We were laying on his roof the evening before our last week in school, staring up at the stars and chatting about anything and everything. It was one of those moments you didn't want to end because you were at peace and nothing could change that.

"Are you gonna leave if I pull out some weed?" he asked suddenly, ruining the moment.

I groaned quietly. "Nick..."

He laughed quietly, already pulling out a joint and lighting it. "It's only weed, it won't kill me."

I gave him a disapproving look. He was supposed to be clean, but he'd been using weed on and off for the past few weeks. It was better than much worse drugs out there, but it still worried me in case he got addicted again.

He breathed in before sighing with relief as he got more comfortable, moving one arm behind his head to use as a pillow.

"What do you think you're gonna do after school's finished?" I asked him once it fell quiet again.

"Dunno," he said honestly.

"Haven't you applied for any colleges?"

He snickered, as if I'd said something amusing. "Nope. Mum's been on my back about it, but I don't know if I want that right now. Why force it?"

I hummed in acknowledgement, admiring the few stars dotted in the sky. "You've been through a lot this past year. Maybe you should use this time to focus on yourself for a while."

He put his joint to his lips once more before handing it over to me. "Maybe. What about you?"

I quirked a brow, looking between me and the joint. He tried not to laugh as he waved it in the air.

"C'mon, it won't kill you," he teased.

I sighed, figuring it would be okay to let loose just this once. Accepting the joint, I took a smoke and pulled a face at the taste. I'd had weed before, but only a little, and aside from the momentary high it gave me, I wasn't a huge fan.

"I don't know either," I finally answered his question. "Not properly anyway."

He laughed as he nudged me. "Yeah you do. C'mon. Tell me."

I shrugged. "I'll be working full time at the diner, hopefully only for the year. They said they'd take me on. I'm saving to go to college."

"How wise," he joked, making me smile and roll my eyes.

I smoked some more, letting myself fall into nothing as I embraced the silence, and then Nick and I both turned to the left when we heard a noise on the roof.

"Gee, thanks for the invite." It was Alicia.

Nick groaned lightheartedly. "Go away. I'm trying to hang out with my friend and you're ruining it."

I slapped his arm playfully. "Shut up, Nick. She can join us."

"I was going to anyway," Alicia said before laying down beside me.

Nick grumbled to himself as I chuckled, then I passed her the joint. She gladly accepted, smoking it, before glancing over at me.

"So, what were you talking about?" she asked.

"What Y/N's gonna do after graduation," Nick filled her in.

She hummed, looking back to the sky. "Working, right?"

"Uh-huh," I confirmed.

"If only we could all get straight A's like you, Leashy," Nick teased.

"If you tried, you could, idiot," she retorted, making me chuckle as he scoffed.

The three of us stayed up there for a little while longer, talking nonsense, getting semi-high and preparing ourselves for the last week of school tomorrow. By the time the sky started spinning above me, I knew it was probably time to pack it in for the evening, but before I could say anything, Alicia spoke up from beside me.

"You'll still be around, right?" she asked. "Afterwards?"

It took me a few seconds longer than usual to realise she was talking about after I graduate, and I looked over at her, nodding.

"Of course," I said. "Where else would I go?"

She smiled softly, eyes dilated and half-lidded at the same time, and just like me, she was slightly out of it. It didn't help that I couldn't seem to look away from her, and I wasn't sure if the moment was abnormally long or if I was too high to make sense of it, but I couldn't stop thinking about how pretty she looked. About how much I wanted to kiss her right now. About how I was certain I'd stay by her side as long as I could because she meant so much to me, more than I'd ever let on.

When I found my thoughts drifting, I looked up at the sky again and blinked, suddenly coming out of my weed-induced daze. That was weird, thinking of Alicia like that. She was my best friend's little sister and she thought of me as family. I was being weird. Oh, God.

Massaging my head briefly, I began to sit up. This is why I wasn't a weed person, especially not whilst laying next to the girl I had major feelings for.

"You okay?" Alicia asked, and Nick nudged me with his foot, his way of checking in.

"Yeah, just tired," I half-lied, because it was kind of true. They didn't need to know the rest. "I'm gonna call it a night."

"We all should," Alicia agreed. "Early start tomorrow."

I hummed in agreement, and avoided looking at Alicia for the rest of the evening.

Graduation day finally arrived, and though my mum didn't care enough to see me collect my diploma, I still had the Clarks standing in my corner, making it worthwhile.

The last thing I expected was for Madison and Alicia to throw Nick and I a joint celebratory party at their house after the ceremony. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me – the other nice things also being from them, funnily enough – and I definitely cried. Nick appreciated it too, but he was never a fan of these sorts of things. Either way, I was grateful enough for the both us.

Madison had invited some of the neighbours and Alicia had invited some of her friends to hang out with. It was a small affair, but I didn't have anyone special to me other than them anyway, so I loved it nonetheless.

It was at this party where I finally met Alicia's boyfriend, Matt. He was nice enough when she introduced him and he seemed to treat her the way she deserved. Truthfully, there wasn't a single fault. And yet, I still didn't like him. I knew why, but that didn't matter. My feelings didn't. So, I played nice and avoided them like the plague, as one does.

After conversing with everyone, I took a breather in the corner of the garden where some food was laid out. Nick found me there, revealing that he was heading off.

"So soon?" I asked with confusion "This party is mainly for you, Nick. You can't just leave."

He waved a dismissive hand. "No one will care. Besides, you'll still be here. I'm gonna go hang out with Gloria."

Gloria was his friend from rehab, and though she seemed lovely, the two of them didn't seem to bring out the best in one another. Still, it was clear she was more than a friend to him, so I couldn't comment.

"Why don't you invite her here?" I suggested, before popping some fruit in my mouth. "Everyone seems to be bringing their partners."

He chuckled, giving me a look. "Firstly, Gloria isn't my partner. Secondly, that technically leaves you out. Where's your partner, Y/N?"

"Non existent, arsehole."

"Hopefully not for long," he said between laughter, before hugging me. "See you later."

I sighed as I watched him leave. It was his day too, and if he wanted to celebrate with Gloria, who was I to stop him? My eyes drifted from his retreating figure to the other party guests mingling in the garden, and then they settled on Alicia and Matt, lingering without meaning to. She was giggling at something he said and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

It was stupid to still like her after all this time, especially when she had a boyfriend, but I truly couldn't help it.

"How's my new graduate doing?" Madison suddenly appeared, earning my attention.

I returned her smile and straightened up. "I'm good, Madison. Thank you again for doing all this. It's wonderful."

"You gotta stop thanking me," she said with amusement, before standing beside me with her drink and looking out at everyone. I wondered what she wanted, but before I could ask, she said, "I got you a little something."

She pulled out an envelope from behind her back and held it out to me.

"Oh, Madison, you really didn't have to. This party is more than enough," I said, attempting to decline, but she shook it for emphasis.

"Stop it, Y/N, just take it."

It didn't feel right to, but it was also rude to decline her sweet gesture, so I reluctantly accepted the envelope and opened it. My jaw immediately dropped when I pulled out a cheque for five thousand dollars, addressed to me.

"It should cover most of your time at community college, right?" she asked innocently, like she didn't know.

"Madison, I..." Five thousand dollars? That was more than I'd saved in the past three years! "I could never take this. I– What the hell?"

"It's yours now," she assured me. "A gift."

I glanced at her, seeing her kindness reflected in her eyes, the same one she offered to me ever since I moved in next door. But this was too much. I couldn't accept it.

Ignoring her, I put the cheque back in the envelope and tried to give it back to her, but she refused, hiding her hands in her pockets.

"Madison–"

"No," she said sternly. "You're like a daughter to me, Y/N. I see a lot of myself in you and I care about like I do my own kids."

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond. She never spoke how she felt, so this was a rarity.

"Nick, he... he's lost," she continued, smiling at me dryly. "He doesn't wanna go to college apparently. I'm hoping that'll change, but..." She clicked her tongue. "Alicia is already set. It's always been smooth sailing for her. So, that only leaves you. And I know that your mum, she... well, I don't expect her to have saved for you, and I know you've been saving for yourself, but it'll take too long and I don't want you to miss out. So, I'm giving this to you and I want you to enrol now. For this year. It's not too late."

Tears were making their way to my eyes as I looked at her. "Madison."

"Please," she said gently.

Nobody had ever cared this much for me before, nobody except her. I'd always known she considered me family, but there was playing family and there was actually being family. And nobody just handed somebody five grand unless they meant it. And Madison, especially, wouldn't do something like this unless she meant it.

My mum, my dad... they never cared. Not truly. And though Nick and Alicia would both argue that their mother had no emotions, I'd always think the opposite. This woman stood before me was the most sensitive person I knew.

Unable to answer with words, I nodded slowly before pulling her in for a hug so tight that I was certain I couldn't let go. She rubbed my back comfortingly before we both pulled away and I looked down at the envelope once more.

"I'm gonna pay you back," I promised, to which she instantly shook her head.

"No way. It's not a loan, Y/N, it's a gift."

I breathed out slowly, laughing to disguise from my embarrassment at crying with happiness. She may have gifted it to me, but I knew I'd pay her back one day anyway. For everything.

"I'm so so proud of you, sweetie," she said, resting a hand on my shoulder and making me look at her again. "You're gonna do amazing things one day and I can't wait."

More tears rolled down my cheeks and I felt an overwhelming happiness flood through me. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve this, but I was glad for it.

"Y/N, hon, can you go get Matt and Alicia? Dinner's ready," Madison called to me in the living room.

I glanced back at her from the couch. "Sure thing."

I would have much preferred not to, but I also knew I needed to get over myself about this whole Alicia thing, so I forced myself off the couch and headed upstairs to Alicia's room. Her door was almost closed, slightly ajar as per Madison's rule whenever Matt visited. I was about to enter, but I paused when I heard them talking in quiet voices.

"I just can't wait to leave already," Alicia was saying, which is what earned my attention because she sounded a little fed up. "Get as far away from them as I can."

"Not too far, I hope," Matt joked.

"Not too far, of course," Alicia agreed, before they both sighed in unison, and I cringed, knowing they'd probably just kissed.

I was going to stop lurking and just walk in, but I couldn't help but overhear as she continued. And I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but I had an instinct to just listen.

"I'm just tired," Alicia continued. "Looking after Nick, being mum's second priority, dealing with Travis..."

Travis was Madison's boyfriend, a recent part of the Clarks lives, and a better one, in my opinion, but of course Nick and Alicia didn't see it that way because their father's death was still fresh for them. Travis was a teacher at school, which is how Madison and him had met, so Alicia probably saw him more often than she wanted to.

"It's just easier to look after myself," Alicia finished. "I basically have been anyway."

"And what about Y/N?" Matt asked curiously.

"What about her?"

"You wanna get away from her too?"

I held my breath as I awaited her response, the second of silence killing me.

"Of course not," she said matter-of-factly, which had me relieved for a moment before she unfortunately continued, "but she won't leave here. And I can't hang around."

Definitely not expecting that, I frowned and stepped back instinctively, but I must have made a sound as Alicia called out loudly.

"Is someone there?"

Flushing with embarrassment, I cleared my throat and pushed the door open, poking my head in, but I couldn't for the life of me meet any of their eyes. "Madison said dinner's ready."

"Oh, okay," she answered awkwardly.

"Matt, you can stay too," I added uncomfortably.

"Actually, I should head back," he answered, "but thanks for the offer."

I nodded and turned to leave, heading back downstairs and forcing myself to ignore everything I'd just heard. It wasn't my business anyway, and I shouldn't have been eavesdropping. It had just taken me by surprise is all, as Alicia had never expressed thoughts of leaving as strongly as she had just then.

When the Clarks and I sat together eating dinner, I felt Alicia's eyes burning holes into the side of my head, but I refused to meet her gaze. I still felt odd and I couldn't stop thinking about her words. Were her family that bad that she wanted to leave so quickly after graduation? Was I?

After dinner, once I'd helped Madison clear the table, I was on my way to get my jacket when Alicia suddenly pulled me to the side, out of sight from everyone else as we were alone in the living room.

"You heard me talking to Matt, didn't you?" she blurted out in a hushed voice.

I blinked, looking down at her hand which was still gripping my arm. She let go once she realised, and I played dumb.

"No, I didn't."

She narrowed her eyes, studying me carefully as if debating whether to push it. Finally, she rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but I couldn't seem to just let it go.

"Are you really just going to leave?" I asked calmly. "Go as far away as you can?"

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You don't get it."

"Then explain," I said with confusion. "Because it sounds like you're counting down the days until you get your diploma, then you're off."

She met my eyes, giving me a look. "It's not like that. But yes, I've been applying to colleges far from here."

I frowned, a little hurt that she'd never told me any of this before and that I'd found out the way I had. "Well, at least I know you'll get in, right? You're not dumb."

Her expression softened and she tried to touch me, but I backed up. "Y/N."

"You don't know how grateful you are, do you?" I said, a little sterner than I intended, but it was the only way I knew. "Your family. They're a little dysfunctional, sure, but they care. And the way you talk about them, like they're such a burden–"

"They are!" she snapped in a low voice, surprising me. "Nick is back on drugs, and who has to be there when he's coming back down? Me! I babysit him like he's the younger brother. And mum, she's always at his beck and call, but me? She couldn't care less!"

I scrunched my eyebrows together in shock. "Alicia, that's not true–"

"It is!" she exclaimed angrily. "You wouldn't know."

Her anger was contagious and I scoffed, shaking my head. "So, what? They're all a burden because they need you? Makes me wonder what you think of me."

"That's not fair," she said in a low voice.

"Isn't it? I won't leave here. Isn't that what you said?"

She opened her mouth, eyebrows raising with disbelief. "That's because it's true! You won't! This is your chance to get out, make a life away from this one, but you stay!"

"I won't, or I can't?" I answered, glaring at her with teary eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I have fucking nobody! No money, no family, nothing! I don't even have a freakin' car! Where the hell would I go? I'm only at fucking college because your mum felt sorry for me and gave me the money! So, of course I won't just leave. I can't!"

She'd never hinted she felt this way before and it was horrifying. Had I overstayed my welcome? I was technically an adult now, but I never thought... maybe I had pushed my luck. Either way, there was a way to tell me and this wasn't it. And now I felt humiliated, burning with anger and hurt and it was so much worse because it was coming from Alicia.

"Wait...," she murmured, eyes roaming my face as her expression softened and the reality of the conversation hit her. "Just wait. Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I shouldn't have said that."

She attempted to touch my face, but I moved away and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"It doesn't matter," I said, tired. "Forget it. Just– forget it."

"No, just– Y/N, wait, please, I'm sorry–"

Walking past her, I grabbed my jacket and didn't bother to stay any longer or hear her out. Clearly, I wasn't wanted.

The next day, I was sat on campus eating lunch after class. It was supposed to be a well-needed moment of quiet in one of my favourite places – next to a park where some ducks always came out near the water and made for a lovely sight. I wasn't able to focus in class after everything that went on last night, so I thought a lunch alone in my favourite spot would help, but it was just my luck that I couldn't even have that.

A familiar figure began to approach the picnic bench I was sat on, not even giving me chance to open my sandwich.

"Hey," Alicia said when she stopped before the bench, looking nervous.

I sighed, dropping my sandwich. "How did you find me?"

She waved her phone in the air. "Find My iPhone."

I was seriously regretted enabling that function, but we'd all agreed to do so after we couldn't find Nick that one time when he went on a night out. Now, I just wanted to be alone.

"I want to apologise and I couldn't wait any longer," she said softly.

"Forgive and forget," I said dismissively, picking up my sandwich again. "You can go now."

"No," she said stubbornly, before taking a seat opposite me. "Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry. I never meant to say what I did. I didn't mean it like that at all. You were right. I have more than most and I took advantage of it. I guess I just wanted to start fresh."

"Yeah, without everyone," I reminded her, looking between her eyes. "Without your family. Without–"

"Not without you," she stated with an apologetic look. "Never without you."

I wanted to believe her – she'd never lied to me before, but after everything she'd said... there had to be some truth to it.

"I applied for colleges here too," she shared, resting her hand on mine on the table. "I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing, but I'm not trying to run away. You're all my family. I love you."

I swallowed hard, looking down. "Maybe I don't get it. Not fully. But I just thought–" I paused, not even sure what I was trying to say. "I don't know."

She squeezed my hand gently, earning my attention. "The best thing that could have happened to me is us taking you in as one of our own. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel any less."

I sighed, hating how much I cared about what she thought of me. About what all of the Clarks did. But they were all I had.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I never meant to upset you and I've been kicking myself since I said what I did."

I nodded slightly, resting my other hand on hers in reciprocation. "It's okay. I get it. Your situation is tough and you had to grow up a lot faster because of Nick... I've tried to help ease that burden for you, but Nick can get out of control sometimes, I know."

"I appreciate it," she said, but I wasn't looking for acknowledgement, I just wanted her to be okay.

"I'm sorry, too," I told her. "The whole making your problems seem smaller thing wasn't cool."

"Thank you," she said with a nod of acceptance.

"Wherever you choose to go to college, I'll still be here for you," I promised her. "Whether it's Timbuktu or around the corner."

She cracked a small smile, bringing a light to her eyes that I'd missed. "I know."

"Ideally not Timbuktu though," I added lightheartedly. "Flights would be a little pricey."

A quiet chuckle flew from her lips as she nodded. "Noted." Her smile reminded as she met my eyes hopefully. "I have a free period. Wanna eat lunch together?"

I returned her smile. "I'd like that."

19 years old...

Nick's MIA. Is he with you?

I read Madison's message with furrowed brows, both confused and worried for my best friend. It was the third time this month he'd gone rogue, worrying his whole family.

Attempting to call Madison, I cursed when she wouldn't pick up then dropped her a text to let her know he wasn't but that I'd update her if anything changed. Then, when I finally finished my morning classes, I gave Alicia a call as I waited for the bus.

"Y/N, what's up?" she answered straight away.

"Your mum just said Nick's missing again," I said, but before I could finish, Alicia was already speaking.

"He's been found," she assured me, though she sounded understandably pissed off. "They brought him into the hospital this morning. Idiot got hit by a car. No surprises what he was up to."

I chewed on my lower lip, worried. "Is he okay?"

I could imagine her eye roll as she said, "Considering he didn't get arrested, I'd say he was great." She paused, then her frustration left her tone as she said, "I've got class, Y/N. Can we talk later?"

"Of course," I said, feeling bad for her because this sort of thing had been happening a lot more than usual lately. "Sorry. See you later, Leashy."

"See you later."

I wanted to check on Nick, but he was in hospital overnight and when Madison offered to let me join her, Alicia and Travis to visit him in the morning, I couldn't afford to miss class. I almost did, but Madison assured me it was okay and he'd be fine, so I promised I'd visit later that afternoon. Only, when I tried to arrange it with Madison, they revealed he'd escaped the hospital without telling anyone.

Naturally, I was worried out of my mind, but Madison and Travis promised they were searching for him, so I shouldn't worry about it. Easier said than done, of course.

That same day, after class, I tried ringing Madison to see if there were any updates about Nick's whereabouts, but there was no answer.

By the time I'd stopped by to grab some lunch and headed home, I went straight for the Clarks house to check in. I was surprised to find Madison at home.

"Y/N, you're here," Madison said when she answered the door, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "I was just about to call."

Confused, I returned the hug. "Er, yeah... I just wanted to see if there was any news with Nick."

At this, she pulled me inside the house and that's when I saw the idiot himself stood in the living room. Relieved at the sight of him, but also concerned because of some bruises covering his face, I pulled him in for a hug.

"You fucking idiot," I muttered.

He hugged me tight, about to say something, but Madison spoke up instead.

"Alicia's calling... Y/N, can you just– can you watch him for a sec?"

"Sure," I said, still confused with why she was panicked. "Everything okay?"

It wasn't hard to miss the deadly stare she shot her son, who looked like he had a million and one things to say.

"What's wrong?" I asked him when I saw his ghastly expression and inability to stand still.

He simply shook his head, saying nothing, but he looked anxious. Madison left two of us alone, heading into the kitchen.

"You can be such an idiot sometimes," I scolded him once she was gone. "Using again? Getting hit by a car? Are you insane, Nick?"

He wasn't listening to a word I was saying as he took a seat on the couch, knees bouncing up and down with impatience. I rolled my eyes, knowing how this would go since he hadn't listened to me for a long time now.

"...no, Alicia, don't touch him!" Madison was saying, on a phone call but loud enough for us to hear.

She returned not long later, looking stressed out and as anxious as Nick did. Was I missing something?

"What's up? Is everything okay?" I asked her supportively. "Is Alicia okay?"

She brushed her hair from her eyes. "She's with Matt. He's sick."

"Yeah, a load of people were off sick today in class," I realised, before shrugging. "Maybe there's a bug going around."

Madison wasn't satisfied with that answer though, as she went to grab her car keys. "I'm gonna pick her up. I don't want her getting sick, too."

"I can get her her if you want," I offered, but she shook her head and glanced at Nick, who was sweating profusely.

"No. You stay with Nick. I won't be long."

Not really getting much of a choice, I nodded and watched her leave. Nick didn't reveal much, even when Madison left, but he seemed troubled by something and no amount of coaxing from me would help. He was suffering from withdrawals, just over twenty-four hours passing since he'd taken anything, and the symptoms were making themselves known.

After what felt like forever, Madison returned with an irritated Alicia in tow. Though, as soon as she saw me with Nick, her irritation disappeared.

"He's not doing too well, Madison," I told the blonde, kneeling beside a shivering Nick.

"I'm gonna get him his prescription," Madison assured me, before looking between Alicia and I. "You girls look after him. Travis will be here soon with Liza and Chris, so keep an eye out."

Alicia and I exchanged confused looks. Why was Travis bringing his ex-wife and son back here? And what was Madison so worried about, apart from Nick?

"You're gonna make me stay here and look after this idiot when Matt needs my help?" Alicia asked her mum.

"Alicia, don't argue this," Madison said knowingly. "Stay put, okay?"

She didn't wait for a response as the door slammed behind her when she left. I sighed, using a damp cloth to cool Nick's forehead. Meanwhile, Alicia threw her backpack on the floor before looking to me.

"Can you watch him? I wanna check on Matt," she said.

"I–"

"No," Nick groaned, pushing me away as he struggled to sit up. "Mum said you have to stay."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "You've got Y/N."

"Is he okay?" I asked her, noticing her worry behind her mean girl facade.

"He's sick," she said with a frown. "Didn't show for our date in the park and that's why I went to check on him. His parents are out of town, Y/N, I can't just leave him."

The last thing I wanted to do was go against Madison's request, but I truly didn't see the harm in her checking on him.

"Okay, fine," I gave in with a nod. "Go. I'll watch Nick."

She smiled appreciatively before making her way to the door, but Nick didn't seem to like this as he forced himself to stand up.

"Alicia, no!" he shouted after her, making her roll her eyes. "You can't, Alicia, it's not safe!"

"Nick, sit down!" I shouted at him when he leaned against the couch for support. "Nick– Nick!"

I screamed his name when he fell to floor suddenly, convulsing, and Alicia was by my side in an instant, helping me help him.

Alicia and I sat on the two armchairs, exhausted and nervous as we watched Nick laying on the couch, sleeping. Madison still wasn't back with his meds and, considering we'd almost watched him choke to death on his own vomit, we were pretty impatient for her return.

"You okay?" I checked in with Alicia.

Her green eyes flickered from Nick to me. "No. You?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "You thinking about Matt?"

She nodded weakly.

"I'm sure he's fine," I tried to put her at ease. "Have you tried calling him? Maybe his parents are back."

"He won't answer," she said monotonously.

I frowned, unsure what else to recommend. Thankfully, keys were rattling at the front door and in walked Madison with Nick's meds.

"I've got it," Alicia said, grabbing the bag and attempting to wake up Nick.

"Y/N, have you checked on your mum?" Madison asked randomly.

I quirked a brow. "Er, no. Am I supposed to?"

She glanced out the window uneasily. "There's a lot going on out there. Just do it, hon."

Already knowing I'd regret it, I gave my mum a ring there and then, to which she picked up after a few rings.

"Mum? It's Y/N," I said, in case she happened to be too drunk to read her caller ID. And woo-hoo, guess who was right?

"Y/N?" she asked with confusion, before exclaiming with realisation, "Y/N! What do you want?"

Unsurprised at this point, I said, "Where are you? Are you coming home?"

She laughed, though it was hard to make out because of the sound a man talking nearby, giving me the creeps. "I'll be on my way soon. Don't wait up."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. See you later."

Once I hung up, I realised Madison was still waiting to hear an update.

"She's drunk," I told her the usual. "But she's gonna be back soon."

She nodded distractedly, before saying, "When she comes home, you need to check if she's sick. And if she is, you shouldn't touch her."

"Mum," Alicia said disapprovingly, before I could even think to speak. "Not now."

I shook my head with confusion, looking back to Madison. "What?"

"This sickness, it's spreading," she said with concern. "I don't want you getting sick, too. Just promise me you'll check, okay?"

Alicia scoffed, unimpressed at her mum's ignorance.

"I promise," I told her. "Besides, she'd have to actually make it home first..."

[older-men-are-sexy-okay]

Soft Spot

CH 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2k

Summary: You have just graduated with your Bachelor’s degree and decide to stay at home with your dad to save some money before graduate school. The thing is, he is moving from California to Texas to live next to his best friend/college roommate, Joel, along with his daughter, Sarah. Growing up, you heard so much about him from your dad. It’s almost like you know Joel, but you don’t. You’ve never actually met him. This Summer will be interesting…

Warnings/Tags: Dbf! Joel, slow burn, eventual smut, kinda mean Joel, explicit language, references to death, struggles with depression, reader is younger than Joel (22/43).

Note: I am a very inexperienced writer, but wanted to have some fun. Go easy on me! Chapters will probably be short and come out fast because I have ADHD lol. And yes, Obie is named after Oberyn Martell from GOT 😂.

CHAPTER 1

“Obie!” You yell out your back door. “Come, boy.” Your golden retriever comes running in the house. You always referred to Obie as ‘the only man you need in your life’. Although, that is definitely not true because you couldn’t live without your dad, it sums up your attachment to your dog. You close the backdoor and turn to look around the empty house with a leash in your hand. It’ll be weird to live somewhere not in this house, you have lived here since you were born. It saddens you when you realize that this was the last house your mother stepped foot in. Any houses after this one will be void of her presence. You take a deep breath and walk up to Obie, clasping his leash to his collar. You open the front door to meet your dad who is waiting in the U-Haul with all of your belongings combined. You usher Obie up into the front seat of the truck and have him sit between you and your dad. You close the door and let out a sigh. Your dad turns to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. “You okay, hun?” You look over to him. “Yeah, just ready to get this drive over with”. You reply. It was partly true, you were dreading the 20 hour drive. But you purposefully didn’t mention your true feelings. “Well let’s get going then”. Your dad pulls out from your childhood home and begins to drive to his new one. 

The drive wasn’t horrible. One motel stay, multiple potty breaks for Obie, listening to podcasts and eating a bunch of junk food. You finally reach the neighborhood the new house is in. Your dad pulls into a cul-de-sac and points to a green two-story house on the left side. “This is her,” he says, pulling into the driveway. “Looks pretty nice, I think she’ll do” You respond “Which house is Joels?” You didn’t really care much, but the whole reason your dad wanted to move here in the first place was to be next to his so-called best friend Joel Miller. You’ve never met the guy, but you don’t really care to particularly. Your dad always talked about him so much growing up, you feel like he’s your long-lost uncle or something. You supposedly met him once when you were 3 years old at your mother’s funeral. You obviously don’t remember, you know, being 3 and having better things to worry about like your mom being dead. Your dad always told you the story of how he and Joel met: it was their freshman year at college at the University of Texas, Austin, and they were random roommates. They became best friends and were inseparable until your dad met your mom and moved to Los Angeles. Since you were looking at schools in the Texas area and were accepted to UT for your graduate program, your dad thought it would be a good idea to move with you so you can stay at home. Also, so your dad could have someone he cares about, other than you, close. He's been lonely since your mom died but he won’t admit it. You agreed, because worst case scenario, you save money by living at home with your dad. 

“His is the one right across the street”. Your dad points behind you both, behind the U-Haul. You look over your shoulder and see a white house with no cars in the driveway. It looked like no one was home. “Joel’s at work, but should be off around 6 in time for the barbeque.” Your dad continues. You look at him puzzled, “what barbeque?” “The cul-de-sac is throwing us a welcome barbeque tonight”. He looks at you smiling. “Ugh, now after driving half the day I have to go put on makeup to meet some people I don’t know”. You were exhausted, you wished you could just go in and go to sleep. But there wasn’t even a bed inside, lots of unloading to do. Obie begins to whine, signaling he wants to be let out. “Oh come on, you’ll be fine” Your dad exclaims. You open the door to the U-Haul to let Obie out and head towards your new home.

4 ½ hours and lots of sweating later, you’re finally done getting ready for the barbeque and moving your stuff. Your room is hardly set up, with just a bed in the middle. But you don’t care, it can wait until tomorrow. You’re wearing blue jean shorts, a black tank top and flip flops. Not trying to impress anyone too bad here. Besides, it’s May in Texas, so it’s pretty hot. But you have your hair down and makeup on so you look like you at least tried. You look at your phone, it’s 6:30 PM. Your dad left to help set up the barbecue an hour ago and said he would be back. He must’ve ran into Joel and begun reminiscing or something. You take it upon yourself to make an appearance just to make your dad happy. “Obie, come on” You walk down the stairs and usher Obie outside the front door with you. 

You close the front door and look around the cul-de-sac. The first thing you notice being the loud country music and the smell of hotdogs. There’s two tables set up with a red patterned tablecloth in the middle of the cul-de-sac. They have hotdogs, burgers and condiments on them. There’s multiple ice chests and chairs everywhere. You think everyone in the cul-de-sac must be here, because they are blocking off the road. There are quite a few people here, obviously no one you recognize. You decide to take a walk around and explore more. “Let’s go, Bubba”. Obie follows you as you walk down the sidewalk deeper into the party. You see a blue ice chest labeled ‘water’ and open it up to take a cold water bottle. Right as you’re done taking a swig, you hear someone ask “what’s his name?” You look over to see a girl, motioning toward your dog. Though you could tell she is younger, a teen maybe, she is almost your height. You smile and say “oh, this is Obie”. “Can I pet him?” The girl asks. “Of course, he’s a sweet boy”. You say. She leans down and rubs him on the head, “Hi, Obie” she says to him. She stands back up and introduces herself to you “I’m Sarah. You’re John’s daughter, right?” You look at her puzzled. “Yeah, how do you know my dad?” You reply. “Because Joel’s my dad”. She says. “Ohhh, duh. Sorry”. You feel a little stupid due to the fact that you forgot Joel had a daughter. You introduce yourself back to Sarah. “I guess we’re basically like, cousins, or something” She says laughing. “I guess so”, you give a small chuckle back. She looks over your shoulder, “he’s super cute, huh?” Pointing behind you. You look over to see a blondish boy with his friend, throwing a football back and forth to each other. You look back to Sarah. “Sure, but they look a bit old for you. How old are you, Sarah?” You ask. “I’m 12, he’s 21. His name is Scotty”. She replies. You widen your eyes at the response, thinking the girl was around 15. “It’s just a crush, he doesn’t even know I exist. But still, please don’t tell my dad” Sarah says. “Of course,” You say smiling. “Does Obie need some water?” Sarah asks. You look down at Obie, who is panting severely. “It is a bit hot, maybe I should get him some”. You exclaim. “Don’t worry, we’re closer to my house, we can just get it there. Let me just double check with my dad that it’s okay”. Her house is equal distance to your house, but you write it off as Sarah being excited to show you her house. Sarah motions for you to follow her, so you do. 

You walk a few steps to the table with the food sprawled across it. You notice your dad on the end getting a hotdog with a man beside him, both of them laughing. Sarah walks up to the man, who is scooping relish onto his hotdog. You and Obie stand beside her. “Dad?”  She tries to get his attention, but he keeps his back turned to her. “Yeah?” The man says. “Can we go inside the house for a second?” She asks. “Who is we?” He asks as he turns toward her with the hotdog in his hand. He looks at her, then his eyes cross over to yours. It is only then you notice how handsome the man is. He looks rugged, but has soft eyes. His patchy beard and wavy, salt and pepper hair tell you this man is somewhere in his forties. He’s wearing a green button up flannel with the sleeves rolled up. Your breath catches as he looks at you blankly and puts the plastic spoon he was using to scoop relish with in his mouth to suck off the excess. Sarah introduces you to the man, all the while he doesn’t break eye contact. “We were just going to get her dog some water real quick”. Sarah says. The man then looks down at Obie and back up to you. He then takes the spoon out of his mouth. Your dad then appears, he puts his hand on the man’s shoulder and says “Joel, this is my daughter.” You knew Sarah’s dad was Joel, but for some reason it did not connect that this man in front of you was Joel. You give Joel a pathetic little “Hi”. He responds back, “Hi.” Then turns his attention back toward Sarah. “Go ahead” he gives Sarah permission. Sarah starts to walk excitedly toward her house. You and Obie follow her, still eyeing the man as he turns back toward your dad to say something. He seems a bit rude, you think to yourself. He didn’t say ‘nice to meet you’ or introduce himself. And his eye contact was very strong, it made you feel a bit uncomfortable. Not the warm welcome you expected, but you try to brush it off. 

You, Sarah and Obie go inside the house. She grabs a bowl from the cabinet and fills it up with water. She lays it on the floor. While Obie drinks the water sloppily, you ask “hey, is your dad always like that? You know…” You struggle to find the words to describe his presence. “Cold?” Sarah takes the word right out of your mouth. “Yes! Cold. Is he always so cold to everyone?” You specify. It leaves you surprised that Joel is coming off this way, because your dad is so nice and outgoing. You ask yourself how they could be best friends with such different personalities. She replies, “Yeah, basically everyone. Except me, my uncle Tommy, and your dad”. “Everyone else he is pretty cold to, but some people he just has a soft spot for”. Sarah continues. It begins to make sense in your mind, how Joel could be laughing with your dad one second then giving you a death stare the next. “Oh, okay”. You say as you try to drop the subject. 

You don’t know why, but you begin to wonder what it would take for Joel to have a soft spot for you, or how different he might act towards you. You think back to him laughing with your dad, how his dimple appeared out of nowhere. How unguarded he looked. You began to wish that it was you he was laughing with, not your dad. From this point on, you make it your goal to be one of Joel’s soft spots. 

[whimsylace]

tim headcanons? 🥺

TIM SHEPARD HEADCANONS ⋆♱✮♱⋆

jay. jay you evil mf. ilysm😈 okay so i only have 17 rn but i’ll def write like fifty more . hope u enjoy pookie !! (also u weren’t expecting this very aesthetic very awesome very high level format were you. yeahf. ive become COOL.)

— he has unnecessarily loud footsteps.

— he appreciates his gang but never shows it. one day he said “hey fellas,, youve been doin’ a good job durin’ rumbles lately. im proud to have yall as my gang🙏”. and everyone stared at him wide eyed cause they honestly thought he hated them💀💀

— when he was a kid he used to pray every night that curly would get kidnapped n shit because he hated his ass☠️☠️curly was one of those really annoying toddlers

— he loses his jacket ALL THE DAMN TIME. (its mostly cause curly always steals it to look cool and dal just takes it for fun whenever)

— tim and darry understand each other. they both have dead parents/a dead parent and both had to take care of their kid siblings

— tim and darry also frequently talk to eachother🔥 sometimes darry finds tim asleep on the curtis couch™️ or its the opposite, & they end up chatting.

— ^they talk about parents, taking care of their siblings, and dally. (will elaborate further one day.)

— i think like. tims responsible and more mature compared to the others, right? BUT HES STILL 18. PLEAHS. HE ISNT A DAD. HE HASNT ACCEPTED HIS FATE LIKE DARRY (😭im sorry ily dar) HE IS STILL A HOOD WHO HAS FUN N SHIT DAWG!!!!!!!

— ^like ok imagine how curly always thinks tims like boring n old and all but after the rumble everyone in the reformatorys talking ab it and he hears how tim like crushed 5 guys’ skulls so hes just like 😨😨 (he then proceeds to show off the fact that THATS HIS BROTJER🔥🔥🔥)

— ^like guys even in the book pony says hes “constantly reckless” LIKE CMON. ((okay the main reason i wrote thsi was because i read this fic thingy and tim called dal “kid” even though theyre a year apart.wtf!! tim is not that boys old man!!!!))

— he steals angelas hair conditioners n other stuff because they smell good and make his hair soft🗣️

— he knows how to cook a few recipes, since his mom was never really there and he had to feed curly and angela somehow.

— ^curly calls his cooking ass but devours it every time (he would eat anything tbh)

— he lights fireworks n firecrackers n shit with dal

— was a demon as a middle schooler.

— hes really overprotective of his car. will not let anyone get near it or drive it. dal knows this; which is why he makes sure to slash his tires every 2-3 business days😇

— his nose used to be really straight but now its crooked as fuck cause hes broken it three fucking times😭😭

FOLLOW ME FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THIS🔥🔥🗣️🗣️💯💯🙏🙏

[softtcurse]

Can u please write something where josie bf or gf meets urban. Please and thank you.

Looking in a mirror

“Are you sure he’s not going to hate me?”

Josie rolled her eyes playfully. Her concentration in painting her nails was direct. Her phone by her side on the bed on speaker. It was late, everyone else was asleep, and seeing as it was the weekend Josie didn’t have to worry about any plans the next day.

“My dad is like the nicest person ever, he’s not going to hate you” Josie responded, with a look at her vanity where a picture of a 3 year old her and Urban smiling brightly at the camera was pinned on her mirror.

“Hmmm well I trust you, should I wear anything in particular?”

“No babe it’s just a dinner” The 18 year old girl laughed. “He knows about you but he just hasn’t seen you. Trust me he likes you already, my mom too. She’s very happy about me meeting someone, especially with college in hands reaching. She thinks it’s good for me to have someone”

“Alright well, I guess I’ll start meditating tonight and praying the whole Wyatt family doesn’t hate me”

“Faye shush!” Josie scolded her girlfriend.

///

“When is it time to eat?” Leo muttered, his mouth salivating at the meal his mother had prepared. His favorite, chicken parmesan over a bed of spaghetti noodles. The sauce home made and the paring salad looking just as good. The garlic bread baking in the oven.

“Whenever Josie gets here with her friend” You replied raising an eyebrow at your complaining son. His twin sitting next to him, his ear buds in his ears and watching a movie on his phone.

“You mean her boyfriend ” Luca laughed.

“Hey hush, your dad is still processing all of it” You smiled and nodded your head towards your husband. Who was sipping on his beer. Looking spaced out.

“Hey mr. zoning out, you okay?” You asked Urban. Turning off the oven and letting the bread finish baking in its own heat.

“Yeah babe sorry, just nervous” He admits to you. You felt the same was as him. However Josie was always talking about this person, she talked about how happy she had been the past month, and the reason she didn’t bring them around sooner was because they were anxious and you completely understood that. You also trusted your daughter’s judgment, and you knew she wouldn’t be talking to someone that didn’t treat her right.

“I get it…” You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. His chin placed on the top of your head. “But she’s happy, that’s all we ever wanted”

“I know, she’s just growing up so fast, when she was little she always told me she would never grow up, she lied to me” He joked.

You punched his side and pecked his lips laughing. “She’ll always be our little girl, we did a good job raising her. And them” You pointed out your twins, who were nothing but gentlemen. Equally as successful in activities they persuade and already had soccer scholarships lines up at just the young age of 16.

The opened and you heard a couple of voices.

Urban straightened out, ready to size whoever walked through the kitchen up. Your twins immediately left everything they were doing to turn to the entrance of the kitchen.

In walked Josie, and then walked in a girl next to her. curly black hair, no taller than 5’2, and freckles splattered all over her cheeks.

“Oh my god” Luca’s eyes widened.

“Yeah” Leo whispered.

“Hello!” You greeted happily. Your hands clapping. “It’s so nice to meet you baby, finally!” You said. Motioning her to step forward. She looked at you shyly and stepped closer.

“I-it’s so nice to meet you too Mrs. Wyatt, Mr. Wyatt”

“You too” Urban said unfazed by the shock factor in the room, if his daughter liked women, so what? “Josie has told us so much about you” He smiled at her. “My wife made us some dinner, I promise I won’t question you” Urban lifted his arms up. Earning a laugh from Faye and Josie. The twins shrugging and just ready to eat.

“So tell us more about yourself while I get our plates ready” You asked her. She seemed a little bit more relaxed.

You served everyone’s food. You learned so much about Faye. She was 18, going to the same college Josie was. Her family was originally from Columbia but they migrated to the United States when Faye’s mother was just 7 months pregnant with her. Very smart girl and studying to get a degree in paralegal studies.

Urban watched how happy Josie looked, and how much Faye got along with the twins (who were very protective over their older sister). He couldn’t be happier for her, underneath the table he took your hand in his, and squeezed your hand. Remembering when the both of you were younger with no kids and no responsibilities, young and infatuated with eachother. Just like Josie and Faye. It was like looking in a mirror.

[antiadvil]

20 fics tag

Okay so I found this in my drafts and it's like. 2 years old at least?? I think I filled it out and then couldn't think of anyone to tag so I never posted 😭 anyway!! This is extremely out of date but:

@succubusphan tagged me, thank u yani

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

1. Somebody to Love: Dan’s train was running late, and he couldn’t stop his anxiety from running absolutely wild.

2. Starlight: “We should go stargazing,” Phil said one morning over breakfast.

3. 5 times Dan and Fiona were not dating (and one time they were): Dan didn’t know how to play poker.

4. Is it serious?: It was after another party.

5. who you are: It wasn’t as hard to find as Rey expected it to be.

6. Friends with (Tax) Benefits: “Let’s get married,” Phil said.

7. I’m just curious: Of course Dani would be here.

8. i AIM 2 b w/ u: Dan glanced at the time.

9. Celebrity Dating Life Hacks: “So, dating as a celebrity,” the interviewer said, and Phil froze. “That must be hard.”

10. Soft Things: They kept an awkward amount of distance between them on the walk from the bus station to Phil’s parents’ house.

11. no grave can hold my body down (i’ll crawl home to her): Dani wasn’t always the most reliable, but going missing for two weeks straight wasn’t in character.

12. family reuinions and hurt feelings: Dan was never going to offer to host something again, at least not if it involved any sort of human interaction on his part.

13. Night In: Dan’s nail polish was chipped. 

14. Electrify my Heart: College was hard, Dan decided, and his classes hadn’t even started yet.

15. True Loaf: “And you’re getting the cake?” Dan had asked.

16. hole in my ear (and my heart): Dan’s mom cried every time Dan talked about getting his ears pierced, and his dad was even worse.

17. Roses are Red: Buying his crush a rose for Valentine’s Day really shouldn’t have been so hard.

18. Love is Blind: Phil had some bad habits, he’d admit.

19. a paper cutout of a life: Dan didn’t mean to.

20. forever is in your eyes: “We should have followed a Bob Ross tutorial,” Phil muttered, swiping at his paper.

I guess what we’ve learned from this is I like to start my PRB fics with Phil saying something random. And that I haven’t posted fic in ages, rip. Lots of just jumping to the middle of things, which makes sense since most of my fics are short.

2 years later I am still not sure who to tag so I am tagging whoever wants to do this. Yes you. Do it.

[idlerin]

NONSENSE PLAYLIST

series masterlist | spotify link

a/n — this isn’t in order story-wise, but this is genuinely what i listen to whenever i want to be in the mood to write nonsense! i just add songs when i feel like it, most mean something to the story, some don’t, so u guys should just guess since it would be a spoiler if i said which is which. and these songs aren’t just like one-sided feels of our mc sooo <3

okay, here you go !

1. nonsense - sabrina carpenter

2. everytime - ariana grande

3. vintage - niki

4. celebrity - iu

5. the very first night - taylor swift

6. maroon - taylor swift

7. about you - the 1975

8. call it what you want - taylor swift

9. ikaw lamang - silent sanctuary

10. kundiman - silent sanctuary

11. hits different - taylor swift

12. i think he knows - taylor swift

13. double take - dhruv

14. wish you were sober - conan gray

15. umaasa - calein

16. omg - newjeans

17. the 1 - taylor swift

18. paris - taylor swift

19. make you mine - public

20. unang sayaw - nobita

21. hype boy - newjeans

22. miss u miss me - just stef

23. plastic flowers - idlework.

24. isa lang - arthur nery

25. fool - frankie cosmos

26. found you - austin mahone

27. the archer - taylor swift

28. mess it up - gracie abrams

29. out of the woods - taylor swift

30. afterglow - taylor swift

31. apollo - faith zapata

32. airplane thoughts - dhruv

33. lovin’ me - fifty fifty

34. muli - ace banzuelo

35. limbo - keshi

36. car’s outside - james arthur

37. estranghero - cup of joe

38. the way i spoke - beabadoobee

39. i don’t want to watch the world end with someone else - clinton kane

40. anymore - jeon somi

41. i guess i’m in love - clinton kane

42. i wish you would - taylor swift

43. shadow - seventeen

44. disconnected - 5 seconds of summer

45. kursunada - adie

46. huwag muna tayong umuwi - bini

47. tingin - cup of joe

48. ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin ko - cup of joe

49. old love - yuji, putri dahlia

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).