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littlemisslipbalm · 10 months

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August, honey, you were mine

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader - Enemies to Lovers College!AU

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

So this photo is insane and likely not accurate to the time that this would be set. However, IDC and he looks beautiful.

Separately, here is my College!AU Enemies to Lovers Josh fic... I started working on this over a year ago and really it's silly because I lost the feeling that I wanted him to be mean so maybe it loses steam, idk let me know what yall think pls and reblogs appreciated - lots of love xoxo etc. more to come.

Summary: Forced together by fate or maybe just scheduling, Josh and Y/N can't stand being in the same room together. Unfortunately, with classes and her shifts at the Lover's Inn, it seems that Josh is in her life more than ever. Can hate turn into love or has something been there since the beginning?

Word Count: 13 k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, enemies to lovers, nauseating fluff, SMUT 18+ (specifics below the cut)

oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, mild? dirty talk, female masturbation, i think that's it!

It wasn’t that everyone was annoying. Sure, film students could be a lot, especially for Y/N when she was planning on going into costuming and styling rather than other production aspects. There were just a few overzealous students who seemed to get under her skin more than others.

Namely, Josh M. Kiszka. He was talented in many respects, begrudgingly she would admit that. However, his annoyances and shortcomings outweighed his talents tenfold. One spark of genius would cause ten pitfalls and plot holes, leaving a forest fire of destruction in his wake.

His curly hair was disturbingly trimmed leaving a small rat tail at the nape of his neck for the majority of the time she had known him –at the beginning of this year he had finally cut it and seemed to be trying to grow it out but she didn’t care. He was absurd and even disturbing at times. His smile took up too much of his face when he grinned maniacally. And she could go on.

Now, being in the same major as someone could be irritating at times, but in reality sharing one to two classes a semester shouldn’t be the end of the world. Sometimes it certainly felt like it with Josh since it seemed like he turned everything up to an 11 on purpose. A bursting zipper was a catastrophe, the wrong colored shirt was the work of the devil. But realistically, she only should’ve seen him at most eight hours out of her week – if she could avoid being paired with him for any group projects. She could do eight hours of him droning on about the intricacies of a film and chattering away about his new big idea.

What she couldn’t do was essentially work for him. And she didn’t work for him. At all. But he certainly seemed to think so every Thursday night.

The first time Josh Kiszka walked into the green room at Lover’s Inn, the college town's local venue made for serious music and serious drinking, while Y/N was working, she thought it was some sick joke. She chalked it up to the fact that her karma must be god awful and this was her cosmic punishment.

She had worked there for two years before this, consistently doing backstage work happily for the experience of potentially helping musicians with costuming and styling if they ever took her up on her offer. Mostly, her job consisted of fulfilling riders and babysitting.

On this fated Thursday, it was raining as the fading summer quickly turned into a blustery fall. The trees faded quickly, changing just as fast as they had blossomed. The biting cold of the rain had soaked her hair so when she burst through the stage right door, a spray of rain flew from her head as she gasped in the warm room temperature air.

First rain made people drive terribly, making her later than she would’ve liked to set up the things requested by the band tonight. She was slightly bummed that because she was rushing, she might not have a chance to offer her assistance with styling of the new band, but she thought she’d just ask to help them out at a later date since her manager had told her that if they played well tonight they were going to get the recurring Thursday night spot.

Greta Van Fleet was their name, which she thought was cool, but given their rider, she had a funny feeling that they were probably like most local Michigan bands, mediocre at best, creeps at worst.

The two cases of beers as well as some strange hippie bullshit snacks gave her the inkling of what to expect.

The moment she hears her name from a particular voice, a pit of dread opens up in her stomach. She didn’t know exactly why he was here but she knew instantly that tonight was going to be a long, long night. She finished straightening out the tea corner the band had requested and swiveled around to face the curly-haired bastard. The stupid smirk was already on his lips and his eyes were full of the tell-tale mischief that came with Josh.

“You got a crush on me or something?” He quirks his head with a raise of his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

Josh knew she didn’t have a crush on him. Quite the opposite of it, but he loved to see her get furious with him. It brought him insurmountable joy.

“Never in your most self-serving, indulgent fantasies,” She seethes and juts a hip and folds her arms across her chest, taking on a defensive stance immediately. “I work here, Josh. What are you doing here?”

He grins, taking a few more steps into the room before pausing and looking around for a moment. His eyes cast around the worn leather couches, the two rugs mismatched and covering one another, a circular coffee table that had clearly seen too much cocaine in its heyday, and the table filled with snacks and drinks perfectly placed for his band’s amusement, before returning to his classmate staring at him with an appalled but also concerned face.

“Work, of sorts,” He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face. “Moreso play.”

She rolls her eyes but feels her breath hitch as Josh crosses the room further, coming extremely close to her. Her eyes widen as he continues to smile at her with an innocence she knew was an act. It doesn’t leave his intensely sculpted face that was unseasonably tanned for Michigan, even if summer had just ended. His hand reaches out to the right of her frame and plucks a fruit snack pack from the basket she had placed them in five minutes prior.

“Those are for–”

“The band?” He asks, his head cocked to the side once more, after finishing tearing the bag open with nimble fingers. “Thanks, by the way, lover. You got my favorite brand.”

The pure joy Josh had just found in seeing her face contort in disgust at the nickname he had just come up with meant it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He thought he was clever for calling her something inaccurate yet also fitting since her place of work was called Lover’s Inn. In his eyes, it was perfect.

“You’re not…” She trails off seeing the delight in Josh’s features.

He nods, not taking a step back from her personal space and popping an organic fruit snack into his smug mouth. “I am. The lead singer, actually.”

She turns back around to remove herself from the close proximity of Josh. “You’re just bullshitting me,” She mutters, shaking her head, refusing to believe him despite her knowing realistically, it was likely true.

“No –” His next thought, likely one to continue his aggravating crusade, was cut off by someone else’s voice.

“Josh, y’know you could help with the drum kit, like you’re supposed to,” A younger man with long flowing locks complains as he carries in two bass cases. His hair was damp, but drying, signifying the rain was subsiding. Josh’s hair had given no indication of the weather due to the drying but jarringly yellow umbrella that lay abandoned by the door.

Once the cases are carefully set down in a corner of the room, he realizes that Josh was not alone. He uses a hand to flip his long hair back from his face and regards the other person in the room, coming to Josh’s side.

“Hey,” He sticks the same hand out and has a goofily familiar grin on his face. “I’m Sam.”

She takes his hand, telling him her name while giving his hand a shake before letting go rather quickly, she was confused.

“You’re in the band,” She confirms to Sam, who nods affirmatively. “And Josh is in it too?” She asks more skeptically.

“Sure is,” Sam looks at Josh quickly before smiling again, like an all knowing fox. “He likes to act like we’re already famous and don’t have to load our own equipment, but we’ll be lucky to score this gig, Ja–”

“Okay, Sammy,” Josh cuts the younger boy off. “I’ll come out and help, just, shut the hell up.”

Y/N quirks her head as she watches them shuffle back out of the same door she had come through twenty minutes prior, watching the way they interact with one another. She goes back to finishing up the table. It looked fine, but she still felt the need to turn all of the fruit snacks so that they were facing forward and make sure the extras of things she had bought were clearly accessible.

Another younger guy with curlier hair walked in while she was still fussing over the table, a part of a drum kit on his back and a drawstring backpack in his hand.

“I’m Danny,” He introduces quickly after shuffling off the large equipment bag and placing it on the outside of the green room door that leads to the rest of the venue. “Drummer.”

She nods and introduces herself once more, directing him to the table of the fulfilled rider items and that she was around to answer any questions that weren’t specifically technical. Her job, after fulfilling the rider, was handling the band before and after they performed, essentially. She attempted to make that more styling and costume related, but in reality she just was there to make sure no one got too hammered before going out on the stage and no one passed out in the green room afterwards. It was a small venue and therefore a small crew but thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the instruments as well. Just the people.

When Josh returned to the room through the side door, she was still waiting at the entrance. Her body leaned against the inner frame of the door. It was shut to keep the noise of the rest of the venue out of here, and vice versa. She didn’t want to be in the room any longer than she had to be, but she needed to check off with the entirety of the band. It was to ensure that all of them were here prior to their set and to check in with them about anything else they might need. Now that she knew Josh was in the band, she really wished she could just leave. She certainly was not going to ask about styling, she already had her allotment of fighting over clothing with Josh for the week in class on Tuesday.

The surprising thing about Josh’s arrival is the second copy of him that appears behind him. Like the first stranger, he had long stringy brown hair and slopey dark brown eyes. Unlike Sam, however, he was literally identical to Josh. One realization came to her silently, Sam was Josh’s little brother, that’s why his grin had been so unnervingly familiar.

This man, just two steps behind Josh, though, he was more than familiar. He was the spitting image of Josh except for his hair.

She can’t stop this realization from being audible. As the two of them stand practically side by side as they converse with one another, seeming to almost mirror one another, she blurts out words before she can think twice.

“Twins!” Her voice sounds overjoyed at the realization that they were identical. There was a hopeful glinting look in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her and she smiles. The fact that Josh was a pain in her ass is forgotten for a moment because she finds it so interesting and unbelievable that identical twins were standing before her and that she had known one all along without knowing it.

Josh stops speaking mid-sentence to regard her and he’s surprised by her reaction. The twin looks perplexed as well with a raised left eyebrow. She is wowed once more.

Josh says her name and hands Danny the rest of his drum kit. “This is my other brother, Jake.”

“And you’re twins? Identical?” She repeats after Jake waves.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Josh throws his hands up in a theatric flourish adding to the condescending tone.

Jake replies far more cordially. “What Josh means to say is, yes we are identical twins. Thanks for noticing.”

“I’m sorry,” She back tracks, remembering the situation and laughing, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ve known Josh for two unbelievably long years and he’s never mentioned once that he has an identical twin brother that he’s in a band with – and he talks enough for it to have come up at least once.”

Josh rolls his eyes with a huff of breath, deciding that he wants to continue helping with their equipment and belongings rather than listen to what he was sure was about to turn into a ‘shit on Josh’ situation.

Jake’s laughter is loud and unadulterated as he crosses the room towards Y/N with the same smile his brothers had, except his didn’t make her want to wring his neck. “He’s always talked too much, I can asure you that. What makes you clearly an unwilling acquaintance of his?”

The grin on her face feels like it’s taking up the entire room. Already, Josh’s twin was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of how much she wanted to be around this person. She also liked his hair, it was long and pretty, maybe it needed a good shampoo and condition but it didn’t have a rat tail, which was the biggest plus in her book. When Josh had returned this school year without it, she had rejoiced but also been slightly dismayed that she hadn’t had the satisfaction of snipping it off herself. On several occasions, she remembered waking up with a triumphant smile after cutting it off in some of her more vivid dreams. She wasn’t completely sure if she could be trusted with scissors around Josh so maybe it was better in the end.

“We’re the same major, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” Jake’s voice holds deep understanding. “I’m sure that can be a lot. I used to help out on his films when we were in high school, so I know he’s…passionate.”

She snorts and shakes her head, acknowledging what he had said before once again remembering she was working. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She casts her eyes around the room and sees that the four guys are all in the room. Josh had returned and was trying and failing to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping on her and Jake’s conversation. “Anyways, now that I know you’re all here, I can leave you be. Just let me know if there’s anything you need before your set. The techs will come in around,” She pauses looking at her watch. “7:00 to have y’all go set up and go over that kind of stuff. You need to be out on that stage at 8, no if’s, and’s or but’s. Also, if you do get the recurring slot, I’d love to help y’all with styling if you’d be interested since that’s more my expertise.”

She hears Josh snort at her last sentence but she pointedly ignores it, only looking at the other three band members.

“How do we find you if we need something?” Sam asks, settling into the darkest brown leather couch like a lanky puppy, all limbs and no idea how to control them gracefully.

“I, uh,” She stops, realizing she normally handed out her phone number since she hated the radios they were supposed to use. For some reason, giving her number to Josh’s band made her uneasy and then she remembered with a sigh. “Josh has my number from previous group projects, assuming he knows how to use his phone he should be able to give it to you.”

“What’s your number again?”

“You don’t have me saved?” She’s exasperated to say the least and a little offended otherwise. They had quite literally been paired in a duo group project their first week of college, two years ago. If he hadn’t saved her number after all this time, she’s sure she would strangle him.

“I think I do,” He looks down at his phone, scrolling through something, “just double checking something.”

“Give me your phone,” She rolls her eyes and places the palm of her hand out waiting for the weight of Josh’s phone to be felt. She types in her number into the search bar of his contacts. The names dwindle until only ‘August’ pops up. She finishes typing the entire number and the name ‘August’ is still staring back at her on the screen. She looks between the phone and Josh a few times before clicking the name and verifying that it was her phone number.

“Why the fuck do you have me as ‘August’ in your phone?”

Josh grins triumphant and satisfied. When she glares at him, he shrugs and plucks the phone back from her grasp. “We met in August, I didn’t remember your name from class and I didn’t bother to ask. By the time I knew it, I couldn’t be bothered to change it.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Is Lover better or worse than August? Because I’m willing to change it to that,” He continues looking at her with that wolfish look in his eye.

“I fucking hate you.” She says with a shake of her head before addressing the rest of the room again. “Well, if any of you three need me, don’t hesitate to find me down the hall or get my number from the gremlin that fronts your band and shoot me a text. Josh, do not bother me.”

“Only in my dreams, I know, lover.” Josh mimics being shot by an arrow in his heart and stumbles back before winking evilly at her.

“Right,” She sighs heavily and tries to smile lightly at the other three who offer her sympathetic smiles back. “I’ll be back at 7:45 if no one needs me before then.”

A chorus of thanks follows her out the door and she ignores Josh’s voice again as she goes. It’s pitched up and honeyed sweet and it makes her sick.

That was the first night. They had been good. Josh’s voice was surprisingly amazing and the rest of them were talented with their instruments. Jake was especially good on the guitar. She tried to focus on the instruments rather than Josh’s voice but it was almost impossible to listen to just one piece of their music, they all complemented each other so well. Even Josh’s voice didn’t overpower but finished the rest of the music being made.

They had also been clean and on time. Two things her manager liked even more than a good sounding band that amassed a crowd was a good sounding band that didn’t require a lot of assistance or cleaning up after. Greta Van Fleet secured the recurring Thursday night gig at Lover’s Inn. Which ensured that she got to endure more Josh Kiszka in her life than ever before.

They would fight in class and bicker during group projects that they got paired for and then to end her week just perfectly, she’d have Josh at her place of work, continuing to push her buttons and attempting to boss her around.

He delighted in calling her ‘Lover’ and being a nuisance when she was trying to help one of his bandmates. He always had issues with the vests and belts she found for him, despite them being exactly what he asked for, if not better. And he always, always had that stupid smug smirk on his face when he was around her.

In the middle of the semester, the film and visual arts third years were assigned a very intensive project. It could be alone or in groups but you had to do it all if you did it alone. As luck would have it or maybe it was just a cruel joke being played on her by the rest of the department, she and Josh were the only two not paired up who didn’t want to work alone. She contemplated doing it all on her own, but she knew she wasn’t the strongest writer and with the rest of her classes and the Lover’s Inn gig keeping her busy, she had to swallow her pride. Bite the bullet that was Josh Kiszka now entering another part of her life: her life away from both school and work.

They had looked at one another with dismay in their eyes. Even Josh couldn’t spin this as a way to torture her, this was genuinely not his ideal scenario for an important project either. They departed class on Wednesday with a sighing compromise that they would talk about it after the gig on Thursday.

On Thursday, Josh arrived first out of his band mates to the green room. She was there, finishing up unloading the grocery bags and double checking the cleanliness of the room. Even if Josh was a pain in her ass, she didn’t let her negative feelings for him change how she did her job.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan, lover!” Josh greets, resting his backpack at the edge of the couch closest to the side stage door.

She sighed. She rejoiced on the Thursdays when it was one of the others to stroll through the door first, so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Josh anymore for the week. Bringing herself to face him was hard, she had already seen enough of him this week and after the big announcement in class yesterday, she really could do without hearing his voice.

“I know you’ve probably heard this a lot before, so you should understand when I say ‘not in the mood’.”

“Oh lover, you wound me,” He gives her moon eyes before he rolls his eyes and walks around the room, continuing to place his stuff where he liked. The band had been working here for two months now and each of them had gotten into a groove. They had their spots and corners that they liked to chill in until it was time to get to work.

“Do you want your clothes or not?” She leans into her hip as she stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop messing around with the throw blanket’s tassels.

“I’d certainly go out and perform naked, I’m sure lots of people would thank you for your brilliant idea. Me in my true glory.”

She scoffs and crosses to her tote bag, dropped by the entrance. She shuffles through it for Josh’s new vest and the belt she found that matched it perfectly. The vest was tan with gold embellishments and looked like it would fit his small frame. The belt was also encrusted with gold broqaue and turquoise stones with a loud engraved buckle to finish it off.

With the pieces in hand, she crossed to his seat on the couch. Josh had his legs spread in a way that required her to stand between them or else she would have to lean awkwardly forward to give the clothes to him. She hated even the way he sat, making her life harder. He reclined back on the couch with his arms over the back of it, the light blue ratty t-shirt he wore stretched and strained over his biceps the way he was sitting. Her eye flickered to it for a split second in mild surprise, obviously he showed them off in the vests, but they seemed to bulge in their current state.

“Lay it on me, lover,” He grins lazily up at her, one hand flipping up right and motioning for her to give it to him.

She shakes her head at him and drops them carelessly on his lap. The belt was heavy enough for him to make a groaning sound. Normally she would walk out of the room at this point, just to get a little bit of time away from Josh. The rest of the band was reliable and she knew they’d all have arrived in the next ten minutes. However, something about Josh’s demeanor made her pause. It was something in the way his eyes looked.

Normally they were wide and bright with evil intentions. Today they still looked mischievous but a little more droopy, his movements a little less agile. She stares at his face, searching for the answer and noticing the way he just lets her.

“Finally decided you want some of this action, lover?” Josh mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head back against the couch. “Stopped denying your true feelings…”

She crouches down to be on the same level as Josh, her face getting close to his as she inspects him closely. One of her hands goes to his eyelid, as she leans over him, opening his eye manually.

“Are you fucking stoned, right now?”

He swats her hand away from him and sits back up, pushing her back so that she’s still crouched between his legs. His face looms above hers, the lazy grin still visible on his face, as she stares up at him. Their faces are an inch apart and the space is hot in the already warm room. Her eyes widened expectantly.

“Shh, don’t tell August, she’ll yell at me.”

“I am…” She pauses, realizing Josh was still fucking with her. She puts a hand to his chest and pushes him back against the couch, causing laughter to bubble from his lips. “Fuck you, Josh.” She states, standing up again and stalking out of the room with a final. “Weed better not fuck up your singing, asshole.”

“Thanks for the vest, lover!”

Besides strutting around the stage a bit more sluttily and carrying notes just a tad bit longer than necessary, high Josh functioned about the same as regular Josh. After the show, the band loaded up their gear once more in the back of Danny’s van that they lovingly all called the Greta Van. Normally, Josh would hitch a ride home with him and Sam or hang around the front of house getting sloshed with his twin. Tonight, he begrudgingly sulked around the green room, informing his brothers that he ‘had a meeting with the bosslady.’

August had overheard it and rolled her eyes. “We’re unfortunately partnered for an extremely important project. I’m worried I made the wrong choice and should’ve just gone it alone.”

She grimaced as Jake wished her luck while Sammy and Dan gave her sympathetic gazes, mumbling their condolences.

“It can only be as bad as we make it, lover.” Josh huffed, resuming his seat from earlier on the larger of the leather couches.

“Are you sober enough for us to begin planning now?” She glared and folded a leg behind her to take a seat on the far end of the same couch.

Josh scoffed with a flip of his hand. “Oh c’mon it was just a couple bowls before going on to perform art.” Josh trailed off, mumbling as he stared around the room.

“Repeat that?” She urged.

“It’s not like it was the first time,” He repeated louder but still softly.

She groaned. “God, Josh.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Y’know what? Fuck if I care. Let’s just get our plan laid out so we can go home.”

Josh nodded curtly. Her eyes flickered to his face in surprise that he didn’t protest.

“Okay,” She started, speaking cautiously. “I’ll obviously take the lead on costuming and you on writing, but we’ll need to collaborate on directing and creative direction. Do you have any ideas for stories you want to tell?”

Josh hummed, head falling to the back of the couch in contemplation. “Cults, a modern Greek tragedy, a bar comedy –we could set it right here, erh star-crossed lovers? What about you or are you just gonna keep all your ideas to yourself?”

“I was waiting to see if you had any worthwhile ideas.” She shrugged, scribbling something down on a notepad Josh hadn’t seen her produce. “The modern take on a Greek tragedy could be interesting…”

“I also was thinking about something similar with a modern take on a classic film like ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ or something to that extent. I like the idea of a post-college existential crisis coming of age female lead type story but I doubt you’d care for that.”

“No, no, no,” Josh sat up straight. “Don’t put your assumed misogyny on me! I’d love to do a female lead coming of age post-college existential crisis story! How dare you?”

She smiled at her page and then up at Josh. “My mistake.”

Their eyes met and the room felt eerily quiet with both of their mouths shut for once. The dingy yellow lights bathed the room in a homey glow. The worn leather was warm beneath their skin, inviting them to settle in.

Then simultaneously, they said: “Modern take of a Greek tragedy that is a coming of age post-college female lead story!”

“Fuck yes!” Y/N rose onto her knees in excitment as Josh’s entire face lit up, leaning forward in excitement.

“Let’s fucking go!”

They laughed and high fived, feeling an unexpected and unknown emotion of shared understanding and initial accomplishment. They talked plot, characters and logline, the main bones of the project they needed to get started on and split up what each of them would flesh out for their next meeting. It was decided that it would be best to meet after class on Wednesdays rather than Thursdays after shows just so that they didn’t have to hang around Lover’s Inn when it was just the locals in the front of the house and so that Jake didn’t get too lonely when he wanted to drink himself under the bar.

Josh felt a weird inclination to walk her to her car that night. He knew which car was hers, he always looked for it in the parking lot when he would pull up on Thursdays – a 90s classic black Volvo sedan with a dreamcatcher hanging on the rearview mirror.

She had regarded Josh oddly when he insisted on walking her over to the car even though the parking lot was empty with plenty of light. Then she noticed again that the lot was empty beside her car and the bartender’s, who was still working.

“Where’s your car?”

Josh kicked at a pebble with his sneaker and shrugged his shoulders with his hands stuffed in his khakis pockets.

She frowned remembering his high state earlier today. At least he was somewhat responsible, but with no foresight. “Did you want a ride?”

“Nah.” He shook his head vehemently. “I walked in, I can walk out.”

“Yeah,” She agreed. “But it’s dark out now.”

“It was dark out earlier.” He reasoned with his usual smirk trying to win his way out of this one.

“Not this dark, not this cold,” She insisted, pushing his shoulder to move towards the passenger’s side door. “And not this late. Get in.”

In the small interior of the Volvo, Josh took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together as she cranked the heat and shivered herself before getting her music playing.

“Thanks,” Josh whispered, grateful.

“Can’t have you dying on me,” She replied. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she was focused on backing up carefully, twisting around and switching gears, and she barely noticed when she finished her sentence under her breath. “For so many reasons.”

In the dark of the car, lit only by the moon and streetlamps around, Josh watched her uninterrupted. She sang under the music she had chosen for the drive. A CD that had already been in the reader of Radiohead.

Josh listened along to the dulcet melancholy voice of Thom Yorke. He likes how she knew all the words but paused every so often to look to Josh for directions.

“Nice house,” she said, turning down the stereo when they arrived.

Josh shrugged, turning his head from her to the classic Michigan two-story with its basic driveway and porch. Dark wood everywhere and an old tree in the front yard. There were warm lights coming from a few windows in the house and it looked like a home.

“It’s fine. Jake, Sammy and I rent it from a family friend so it’s a good deal.”

“That’s nice.” She feels awkward, making small talk with Josh.

It’s the antithesis of their usual relationship of bickering and jabbing and avoiding. It’s soft and casual. Warm and inviting in the familiar seats of her car, with her music. Josh kind of seemed at peace in her car. It was unusual, regarding him looking so quiet and calm.

“Alright.” She breaks the silence.

Josh takes the cue, blinking out of whatever trance was keeping him from taking his leave from her car and getting into his house for the night.

“Night,” he speaks softly. “Thanks for the ride…and, uh, see you Monday, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, watching him get out of the car, carefully taking his bag and his new vest and belt into his arms.

She waits for him to get inside before driving off. Still unsure of the feeling in her stomach, she blasts the Radiohead a little louder to drown out her speculations.

By the end of November, they were almost through with the filming portion of their project. Yet it was time for a relatively complicated scene. Well, it shouldn’t have been complicated if the weather had been right but unfortunately they were venturing into true winter in Michigan.

Josh and Y/N had settled on the tragedy of Hippolytus after attempting the tragedy of Medea but deciding it was too overdone — how many stories of a woman scorned by a man leaving her could we want? Instead, the twist of Hippolytus in the 21st century would allow for an interesting female lead whose story didn’t start because of a man.

Instead, like Hippolytus, their lead had decided against sex and relationships during college. Josh and Y/N had worried about making it purity porn but decided that they would balance the true story with modernity enough that it would work.

In the Greek tragedy, the woman interested in Hippolytus killed herself after being rejected by him, however that was another place they would depart. Instead, the counter to the lead would be hurt randomly and there would be a need for the lead to help them. This leads her to pursue psychology and therapy—medicine felt too cliche. But she knew she wanted to help people. Their bond eventually grows to love even though it’s not what she intended. However, both the therapy and the relationship help her find meaning to life, bringing her out of the existential crisis that started the story.

So they were filming the scene where the counter, James, was meant to get hurt. The short film was going to be narrated by a modern Aphrodite so some silliness was injected into it. She was interfering with the lead, Hyacinth, in hopes to persuade her to fall into bed with someone.

James lived next door and was washing his car, shirtless, when Hyacinth walked out her front door, about to go to gym—another one of her ideas of how to find purpose in life, pushing her body until it had no energy to think. Jason was meant to have gotten soap all over him from leaning across the hood of the car, like a male fantasy but reversed, and then point the hose towards him and wash it all off sexily. Of course, the student they had cast, weirdly also named James, was attractive but he was an angel and an ex-theater kid, so he couldn’t quite get it right and he was beginning to shiver even though they had the water as warm as possible and were covering him up between every take.

Josh was attempting to hold back laughter but after the third bad take, Y/N yelled ‘cut’ and walked into the scene.

“James, here hand me the handle,” she said.

Taking hold of the metal length at the end of hose that was turned off, she began to instruct James to do exactly what she was showing him. She turned it towards her and held it above her chest with her head tilted back, eyes closed. She sighed for a moment and then briefly moved up as if the water were hitting her face and then ran her free hand against her cheek, allowing her lips to open further and then ran the same hand down the front of her neck, down her chest and her stomach, brushing to the side just as she got to the top of her thighs.

James watched carefully, not phased by the directing. Josh gawked. His eyes almost bugged out of his head watching her and wondering if just maybe that’s what she looked like in a shower. Her soft hands would be running over her soft naked skin instead of her warm winter sweater and jeans, but still. He could imagine. The sudsy soap and bare skin touching the cool tiles and warm water. Fuck. He needed her to never do that again ever.

The last month he had seen more of Y/N than he had ever thought possible. Except now, he looked forward to it without pretending it was because he wanted to bug her. Josh wanted to know what she was thinking about every aspect of their project and he wanted to hear about her weekend and he wanted to kiss her against the walls in the green room when his brothers weren’t there. He didn’t act on the third thing, but he wanted to.

“Josh?” She raised an eyebrow, still holding the hose above her chest. “Josh?” She repeated.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you agreed? Does that fit with an Aphrodite induced sexy car wash scene you imagined?”

He smiled weakly and she tilted her head in silent worry. Hopefully Josh wasn’t getting sick.

Of course it is, doesn’t even need a Greek god to intervene and make it hotter, she just was.

“Yeah, yep, fantastic,” Josh rushed. “James, you got it? We’re losing light.”

A cloud was rolling in from the east and Josh knew that if they didn’t finish soon they might get rained out.

James nodded and they ran the scene again. The actor nailed it and after Josh yelled cut, Y/N squealed in accomplishment. They high fived and Josh’s eyes linked on the side of her neck where her fingers had brushed as she had caressed herself minutes ago—professionally.

After that, they wrapped for the day, Josh still concerned about the rain, sending the actors and helpers home. Y/N hung around to help Josh bring his equipment back into his house. They were using the front of it for the scene. On their last trip to grab things from the street, thankfully all non-electronic, the beginning of what would be a long rainstorm began in full force.

This time it was Josh to shriek and Y/N laughed as they ran under the awning of the porch after grabbing everything left as quickly and carefully as possible. It didn’t matter, they were pretty drenched.

She tried to catch her breath from running and laughing while Josh felt his hair with a look of dismay.

“You know you’re stuck here,” Josh grumbled, looking out at the pouring rain. He hated the way she seemed to enjoy his displeasure at being wet.

“As long as you’ve got a spare change of clothes, a hot shower and a gas stove in case the power goes out, I’m fine.” She shrugs, pushing the screen door open and putting her half of Josh’s stuff on the entryway bench.

Josh followed behind with his binder and a few rain-ruined scripts.

“Anyone else home?” She wanders through the hall to the living room, peeling off her sweater and leaving her boots by the wall.

Josh shakes his head, “Probably not, it pisses Jake off when I film at the house and Sam usually goes to Danny’s on the weekend.”

She inspects her jeans and t-shirt before looking at Josh. “I want to shower now, can you find me clothes and put them in the bathroom before I get out?”

“Who made you queen?”

“This isn’t Lover’s Inn, I’m not on the clock and I’m your guest who’s trapped here…feel like you’re supposed to dote on me.”

Josh rolled his eyes, feeling the memory of their feud flickering like an ember in the pit of his stomach. He wants to tease her, say something biting to turn the tables on her. But she was right, they weren’t in any of the situations they were usually in with one another. More uncharted territory.

“You’re annoying,” he offered lamely.

She chuckled and pushed at his shoulder lightly as he passed, assuredly showing her to the bathroom. “Try harder, lover.”

Josh scoffed without turning his head around, but the feeling in his stomach grew as he heard her feet padding behind him. The rain was loud on the tall roof, fast and foreboding. It might’ve been adding to Josh’s unease.

At the end of this new hallway, there were three doors. One to a bedroom, Josh’s, a closet and the bathroom. He opened the closet to grab fresh towels he kept for when he didn’t want to do laundry that week and walked them into the bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean but Josh had his own bathroom, forcing Jake and Sam to share the other one, claiming he was the oldest so he got the most privacy.

She smiled at the tub. “Should I have a soak instead? Do you have any good wine?”

“This is not a fucking hotel,” Josh laughed. He handed her the towels and she gave him a pointed look. “But I’ll open a bottle.”

“Good boy,” She continued to smirk. “Maybe I’ll leave a nice tip.”

Josh pinkened slightly. She’d never been like this before. He felt like he was falling into some world where Aphrodite really was fucking with his life.

15 minutes later, Josh returned to the bathroom where Y/N was showering and pushed the door open. She had music playing but he could hear the water still running.

He walked in and placed the sweatshirt and clean boxers on the counter. Her wet clothes were in a puddle on the floor beside the shower mat and he swallowed. A pretty pink lace thong and a black lacy bra laid atop her top and jeans. He took a breath and went to head for the door, turning away from the clothes. But Y/N’s own breath caught his attention.

Her grunge 90s music was playing from her phone but she was breathing hard and Josh stopped short. His eyes shot to the shower curtain. The place he had been avoiding with all his power. It was sheer. Her silhouette was hard to see but it looked like it was writhing. He saw one of her hands slipping around her chest and he bit his lip. She was certainly squeezing her tits and she was breathing hard and he couldn’t see her other hand.

He put his own hand to his mouth to stop any shocked sounds slipping out. She must have forgotten that he was coming back. When he saw her silhouette drop to the floor of the tub, Josh snapped out of his trance.

He grabbed the clothes and slipped out the door, closing it as quietly as possible just as he heard a breathy ‘fuck’ he would dream about for weeks.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Letting his head fall against the now closed door, he took a deep centering breath before knocking loudly. “I’m leaving your clothes out here, kay? Gonna open that wine.”

Her voice was normal in response and Josh was wondering if he had just hallucinated. Had he accidentally taken a gummy and forgotten. Seemed unlikely since he usually wouldn’t when he was working on film stuff.

“Sounds good! Thanks, Josh!”

Josh tried to be normal when she came into his room in his clothes, rubbing his towel through her wet hair. He’d left the wine and two mismatched glasses on his bedside table. He mumbled that she could start without him as he passed her to jump in the shower himself.

On the fogged main mirror, she had written, “don’t work when it’s about to rain!”

Josh smiled to himself and stripped down out of his clothes that were still uncomfortably wet. His shower was much quicker and much colder. He couldn’t allow himself to be in there for very long or else he would’ve started to fantasize about what he was certain had just happened in here.

In his room, Y/N sat on his bed, taking large sips of the red wine Josh had found. She was nervous. Something about this storm was making her uneasy. The scene they had shot had done something to her. Everytime she looked at Josh, she swore he was eyefucking her and that made her feel strange. Extremely turned on. She had thought dealing with it in the shower would’ve solved it but the minute she walked out and saw Josh looking so sullen, still in his rain-soaked clothes sans his jacket, waiting for her to get out, she felt wet again. If anything, the quick wank had made it worse. Already slick and wanting, she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around just Josh for the night.

Now that they were friends, she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. God, it made her roll her eyes. He was talented and attractive and she was sitting in his bed, drinking his wine in his comfy clothes all at her request.

If it couldn’t get any worse, Josh walked into his room with his towel hanging around his hips and his chest speckled with droplets coming down from his hair.

“Didn’t have time to dry off?” She tilted her head, trying to sound casual. Unbothered when she was fully, terribly, bothered.

Josh shook his head, making more droplets fly around the room. “Forgot my own clothes.” He shuffled through his myriad of t-shirts and grabbed a gray one with a Buddhist symbol and black sweatpants.

“You sound like you need a drink,” she tried.

“Yes,” Josh sighed as if he was coming out of a desert with no water. He held his hand out and she quickly poured the second glass and placed it in his waiting hand.

Their fingers brushed and both of them pulled back as if they’d been burned. She met Josh’s widened, brown eyes looking dark in his navy room that was shadowed by the storm and his one yellow lamp. He clutched carefully to his towel and the clothes under his arm with the wine in his other hand, taking a long sip as he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom.

She let her head hit the headboard of Josh’s bed. What the fuck was going on? She took another sip of her wine and then refilled the glass up high.

When Josh returned clothed, he sat on the foot of the bed and she silently refilled his glass when she saw it was already empty.

“So…what do you want to do?” She tries while folding her legs up under her chin.

Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement and get stuck on her legs for a moment before returning to her face.

“Movie?”

She shrugs, looking around his room for a television. “I don’t want to sit in your living room, your couch looks uncomfortable.”

“That’s where you’re sleeping if you can’t get home tonight,” Josh scoffs.

She arches an eyebrow and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ll sleep in Jake’s bed, he won’t mind.”

“No.” Josh stated flatly.

Her eyes turn back to him, cautiously. “Why not?”

“It’s weird.”

“No it’s not.” She sounds annoyed, placing her wine down and picking up her phone. “I’ll just text him and ask.”

The text sends and she smirks at Josh pointedly. Shortly after, a loud crash of thunder signals the power leaving for the rest of the storm and with it, the phone signals.

Josh smirks triumphantly over his glass when Y/N throws her phone dejectedly on the side table too, while he flicks on his battery powered lamp he had grabbed earlier as a precaution.

“Couch it is.”

She lays sideways along the top of Josh’s bed and hums, raising her hands above her head, allowing the bottom of the sweater to lift and expose her stomach. Feeling perfectly buzzed from the wine, she sighs, “I don’t know, this feels pretty comfy and I’m already settled. Maybe you should sleep on the couch since you love it so much.”

Josh watched her body extending across his bed and simultaneously wanted her there forever and to throw her out.

“Absolutely not. This is my house.”

“And I’m the guest,” she repeats. “C’mon lover, don’t be mean.”

“You’ve never seen mean,” Josh rolls his eyes and finishes his wine, laying it with hers on the table.

She laughs, outrageously loud. “You’re a lot of things, Josh. But I don’t think you’ve got a truly mean bone in your body or however that cliche goes. Evil sure, but that’s different.”

She hasn’t bothered to sit up and she’s enjoying the tone of voice Josh is slipping into and everything feels quite nice and warm. So warm. She shuts her eyes.

“No, no,” Josh hurries, moving himself so that he is closer to her. He pats her cheek lightly. “No falling asleep in my bed. Not allowed.”

“But I’m so comfy and cozy,” She croons, blinking her eyes back open. The smirk on her face gives her away.

“C’mon.” Josh takes her shoulders to push her upright. “Sit up.”

She laughs, but it dies out, recognizing the proximity of Josh’s face to hers. How his body is hovering over hers. How warm she is. “Fuck,” she whispers, staring at his lips, slightly stained from the wine.

“What?” Josh whispers back, realizing the same things as her. How soft the smallest bit of her skin is against his finger that’s on her shoulder, slipping along the collar of the sweater.

“Your lips are red,” she states.

Josh grins and lets his head fall between them with a laugh. “So are yours.”

He looks back at her and remembers the way she sounded in the bathroom. All the years he’d known her. All their fights. And how they weren’t really fighting anymore. How he teased her at Lover’s Inn and how good she’d been as his partner this last month and a half.

“What are we going to do with no power, August,” Josh whispered, already inching his face closer to hers.

She smiled and let her hands reach up to cup his face and neck. “Read the Bible by candlelight?” She whispered back as Josh’s nose nudged against hers.

He breathed a laugh across her lips and her breath caught in her throat when he finally attached his lips to hers. They kissed softly, just taking it in. Josh shifted them into a more comfortable position, one leg slotting between hers, while the other supported him so his torso wasn’t fully on her.

She whimpered immediately at the pressure and Josh smirked. He pressed harder, licking into her mouth.

She gasped when Josh began to kiss her neck and he spoke against her neck in between sucking against the skin. “I heard you.”

“W-what?” She was staring at the ceiling while she ran one hand against his shoulder and the other through his hair.

“I. Heard. You.” Josh repeated, allowing one of his hands to run under the sweater up towards her breast and she whimpered again. “Fuck,” he loved the way she sounded. “In the shower, lover.”

Her eyes shot wider, the haze of Josh’s lavishing touch disappeared with shame. “You did?”

Josh pulled back with a lazy grin, still playing with one of her nipples under her shirt and pecks her lips quickly.

“Yeah you fuckin’ told me to bring your clothes in because you’re a princess apparently and then you were in there getting off when I walked in.”

She felt embarrassed but remembered what was likely about to happen so it didn’t really matter. “Oh…I tried to deal with it quietly. I was just really turned on for some reason.”

Josh scoffed and retreated his hand from under her sweater. “C’mon,” he gestured to the sweater.

They were still acting like film partners through this interaction. Or at least how they acted. Talking casually while in the beginning of a sexual encounter.

She took it off and threw it to the ground while staring pointedly at Josh’s shirt. He followed suit before kissing her again. His chest looked so soft and warm, she wanted to be wrapped up in him.

“First, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of your thong and then I turned to leave and you’re in there playing with this thing.” He pauses his words, slipping his hand inside the boxers she was wearing, cupping her pussy.

She whines, extending her neck to kiss Josh’s. Feeling the need to touch more of him. He grins down at her again and kisses the space between her tits.

His hand rubbed ever so slightly over her mound without actually doing anything, but she felt the slightest friction and the pooling of her wetness. She grabbed at one of her tits.

“The curtain’s not opaque, August,” he continues and she groans at the nickname at a time like this. His middle finger slipped lower, hovering over her slit. He looked her in the eyes again. “I saw you writhing around your own little fingers. What’s it gonna look like when it’s mine your pretty pussy is wrapped around?”

She moaned at his words, throwing her head back against the pillows.

“Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty.” Josh continued his special version of torture. She could feel his fingers but they weren’t doing anything she wanted them to. Every so often he planted a kiss on her torso. Of course he liked to tease by talking forever and ever.

“Take off the boxers and find out,” She tries not to sound impatient.

“Great idea!” Josh patronizes, slipping his hand out of the boxers completely and moving to take off the boxers.

She huffs.

“Don’t act spoiled,” Josh admonishes, returning his hand back to where it was while his other cups her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. He looks like an angel like this but so sure of himself. She’s amazed and completely at his will. “I know she already got to cum once under this roof.” He tsked, tapping his middle finger against her entrance. It was the lightest pat but she was so wet that Josh’s finger got a little of her slick nonetheless.

She moaned at the change in sensation, her hips dipping down in some instinctual attempt at getting him to slip inside.

“God, you are needy.” He removed his hands again and laughed when she huffed again. Both hands moved to her knees and pushed them to be bent and then apart, moving his body between them. His hands then went to her breasts, squeezing them and pinching tenderly at her nipples. Her hips bucked again and Josh kissed her again. “It’s gonna feel so good when I finally touch you where you want,” He offered, kissing her sweetly.

Pulling away he began to suck on her chest, continuing his monologue. “You were holding this perfect tit in one hand and rubbing your wet pussy with the other, right?”

She nodded when he looked to her for a response.

“I left when I saw you drop to your knees like some cock hungry whore…” Coming from someone else it would’ve sounded cruel, but from Josh’s lips it was the softest sweetest accusation in the world. His voice was honey and it only made her want him more. Maybe she was a cock hungry whore, for Josh.

Josh’s right hand returns to her pussy, cupping it like before and she’s sure she’s about to leak onto his palm.

“You’re leaking, princess,” Josh informs her, confirming her suspicion. “Do you like me talking mean to you? Why’d you drop to your knees in my bathroom, August? C’mon you can tell me.”

“I,” She starts. Josh chooses then to slip the tip of his finger inside of her.

“Yes?”

“I was about to c-cum and you have that, fucking, detachable showerhead…”

Josh thrust his finger fully inside her and she moaned, relieved but not much better. Now she felt herself quickly working up to another orgasm. He thrust his finger carefully, thinking over his response while trying to hold himself together now that he’d felt how warm and tight she was inside.

“Used my showerhead to get off in my shower. Touching these pretty tits, riding your own hand and now you’re laid out all perfect for me.” He added a finger and her hips began to move with his movements. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

She hums in agreement, one hand hanging onto Josh’s neck and another gripping her tit like her life depended on it.

“And you’re gonna cum again already? Fuck,” Josh sounded amazed. In awe of how sexy Y/N was, how willing and lovely she was, how she was perfect for him. “Go on.”

She came immediately, having held off for so long, trying to hold it for Josh despite how much he’d teased her.

After she rode it out, Josh removed his fingers and gave them a lick. Humming his satisfaction. She breathed heavily watching him, but wanting more. Seeing from the bulge in Josh’s sweatpants she knew he wanted more as well.

“Fuck me, Josh.” She sat up on her elbows beckoning him closer.

“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He laughed, but it was soft. They were still themselves.

She widened her legs and pouted, dropping her hand to her pussy, carefully circling her puffy clit.

“Need it, Josh.” She rocked her hips. “I think you need it too.” She hummed, looking pointedly at his straining cock.

Josh shook his head and crawled over her again, pushing her hand away from her clit. She took up the job of pushing down his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously.

“Next time, I wanna see you dropping to your knees like the cockslut we now know you are.” Josh breaths, losing track of his train of thought with the feel of her soft hand gripping the base of him gently.

“Next time could be later tonight…” She whispered back, connecting their lips again. “Or tomorrow.”

Josh groans, at her words and the feeling of her slipping the head of his cock through her slick. He resisted pressing in immediately, feeling her rubbing it back and forth from her entrance to her needy clit. He bit her lip and she moaned.

“I would’ve fucked you months ago if I knew that getting you wet was all it took to make you all sweet and nice.” He grunted.

His hips thrusting on their own accord caused his head to slip against her clit in a way that made her moan loudly. She tightened her grip on his cock and Josh’s hips moved back.

“I wouldn’t be rude to the girl who’s about to let you hit, lover.”

She nudged Josh’s head into her entrance and they sighed in tandem. Her hands went up to his shoulders from under his arms. Josh dropped his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth and softness. They began moving at a steady clip. Her legs wrapped around Josh until he started thrusting harder and faster.

“Fuck,” she whined. “That feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Josh had begun to sweat. He shifted one of her legs to balance one of his hands and then moved his other to the headboard and she moaned loudly adoring the stretch.

“‘M close,” He strained. His eyes were constantly shifting between her bouncing tits, his cock disappearing in her and her face and the expressions she was making. “You’re so wet.”

“Cum,” she breathed. Her fingers slipped down to her clit again, rubbing furiously.

Her walls tightened at the added stimulation and Josh was cumming. Hot and sticky inside her. He panted hard, collapsing on her with a wet kiss against her mouth. His cock had made even more of a mess of her, leaking out of her full, throbbing cunt.

Josh watched it. Entranced as he pulled out once more and twitched when Y/N moaned at the sensation, her eyes shut in pleasure.

“I’ll clean you up,” Josh nodded to himself before disappearing.

Less than 10 minutes later, the pair were cleaned up and wrapped up with water in Josh’s bed. Side by side.

They saw each other in class on Monday and Wednesday after their shoot and impromptu sleepover on Saturday that had run into Sunday, but they acted like nothing had happened. Or like it was completely normal. Which they both liked. They had been cordial upon waking up wrapped around each other on Sunday morning, but Y/N had made a quick exit, citing a myriad of reasons why she needed to go home now that the storm had passed. She even declined coffee.

It was Thursday, at Lover’s Inn, when the events of Saturday night became hard to ignore.

Josh didn’t show up first which she was grateful for. Jake sauntered in with his guitar case, his small but impressive pedal board and a few wrapped up cords over his shoulder. She smiled and they exchanged pleasantries as she shuffled around their table. Everything was ready, but she couldn’t stop herself from reorganizing things.

“Do you need a beer?” Jake asks after a tense 10 minutes of silence.

She laughs and flips around from the table, slumping against it. “Honestly, yeah.”

Jake lifts his mouth into a half-smile, nodding to the table. “You can have one of mine and I’ll steal one of my brothers.”

“How chivalrous,” She smiles, disarmed by Jake’s nature. She grabs two beers and the bottle opener from the table before crossing to him and handing over one beer to him, followed by the opener.

They click the necks together and take an appreciative sip.

“What’s got you flustered?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know,” She sighs, rubbing at her forehead, knowing exactly why.

Sam, Danny and Josh file through the side door while Y/N attempts to come up with a reason for her to be stressed. Jake watches her carefully, but her eyes immediately shoot to the sound of the door opening and their voices.

Josh scans the scene of Jake and Y/N on the two couches, sipping on beers, alone. His nose flares momentarily before setting down his piece of the drum kit and saunters to the couch, sitting beside Jake.

“Your turn,” Josh says, nodding to the door so that Jake will go help with the rest of their stuff.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his beer before huffily standing up and walking outside. Josh eyes Y/N sitting silently across from him and takes a swif from his brother’s beer.

“I’m assuming he offered his share and then is planning to drink an extra of one of ours.”

She chuckles nervously, eyes shifting away from Josh and around the room. “You guys know each other well.”

“Brothers. Twins.” He shrugs, still watching her intently.

She discards her half-empty beer and stands, bee-lining for her bag. “I’ve got new stuff for you guys.”

Josh rolls his eyes, but feels a little bug of worry squirming in. The insecurity he had felt on Sunday had vanished with how normal they had been in class, but this made him feel like something was certainly off.

“Here,” She places the vest and medallion necklace she’d found for Josh beside his head on the back of the couch. “And here’s this for you, Danny.” She turned from Josh before he could even thank her, handing Danny a tank style shirt she thought he’d like. Sam received a flowy floral button down while Jake got a fringe leather jacket that she had been searching for all semester for him.

Jake beamed, his eyes shiny and his smile taking over his entire face. She smiled back at him, trying to fully feel the gratitude he was giving her. She watched as he tried it on and spread his arms in the mirror, admiring the movement.

“This is going to be so fuckin’ sick,” He laughed, slightly in disbelief, touching over the jacket constantly. “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N.”

She blushed a bit, feeling everyone’s eyes on her, especially Josh’s from his place on the couch. He was holding his vest in his lap, sullen that he had never thanked her so profusely for the things she found him.

“It’s my dream job–and if you guys ever get famous, I’ll make you real stage outfits. However you want.” Jake’s giddy energy was overpowering her nerves. It felt great.

The green room was a fun atmosphere for the rest of the hour leading up to their set. Josh pushed himself out of his pining and focused on the revelry. But before the band was about to go on, Josh hung back, leaving him alone with Y/N.

She saw him stall at the door, his hand catching the frame. His vest was tan suede tonight, with silver pieces swirling into pockets on the front and creating a pattern across his back. He turned around and she paused, once more at the table, beginning to clean up wrappers.

“I wanted to say thank you for all the vests and stuff you’ve found me this semester, August.”

She watched Josh cross the room to her. “It’s nothing. Like I said, dream job.”

Josh pressed closer and threaded his hand through her hair. His breath was warm against her skin. She finally met his eyes.

“I miss you.”

“You’ve seen me all week.”

Josh’s forehead drops against hers, his free hand coming to her waist. It’s hot and firm and she feels the breath leave her lungs. Her body presses closer to him.

“Not what I meant.”

“Josh…” She wants to kiss him so bad. Wants him to kiss her. Her hands are grasping at his forearms in a way she hopes isn’t too desparate. “You’ve got a show to play.”

His hand moves slowly from her waist across her stomach to the center of her jean skirt. His fingers fiddle with the button, slipping them below the waistband, feeling more fabric.

“It’s a shame.” His breathing was heavy. His nose kept nudging hers.

She licked her lips and swallowed.

“Really wish you weren’t wearing tights,” He murmurs before pressing a hot kiss to her lips.

Before she can really feel him against her, he’s pulling away and snapping the black lycra that he had wiggled his finger into against her skin. A sharp gasp sounds and he’s walking out the door to the stage, looking far too much like a rockstar than she’d like. After a few moments of attempting to collect herself, she leaves the trash to be dealt with later and follows Josh to see the start of the show.

This show was electric. Everyone was playing their best. Jake was rocking with his guitar so much that the fringe flew around, making the crowd of college-aged women the band had amassed go wild. Josh was strutting around the stage, raising his arms as he hit notes and dancing with Jake every so often.

Jake tried to convince the manager to let Sam and Danny into the front of house. ‘It’s not like they don’t have IDs that say they’re old enough,’ he reasoned conspiratorially. He was over the moon and he wanted everyone to celebrate since winter break was coming up and their show would be taking a rest for a while. Her manager relented, but Josh almost crushed his twin’s soul when he said he needed to go home to work on editing.

Sam and Danny’s exuberance at being able to drink at the bar overpowered Jake’s protestations to Josh, leaving Y/N and Josh alone in the green room once more. He smirked with great satisfaction as he shrugged the vest from his shoulders and began to pull his t-shirt back over his head.

“Where were we?” He saunters back over and she’s happy to see regular Josh instead of the rockstar Josh who had ambushed her earlier.

Yet, she remembered him. And she remembered his performance tonight. How low his pants were slung around his hips. A pair of tight black vinyl pants she had found him about a month ago. His happy trail had meandered down to disappear beneath the fabric she had chosen for him. Now, he was straining against those pants and she shut her eyes, coming to terms with what she was about to do.

“It’s your turn, Josh.” She meets him in the middle of the room, backing him up against the arm of the bigger leather couch. She caged him in for a moment, looking him up and down. Josh’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Sit on the couch.”

He is a bit confused, but doesn’t argue, shuffling to sit down as quickly as possible.

“Eager, huh?”

“Now who’s being mean?”

She grins and walks to stand in front of Josh, dropping to her knees with quiet ease and practice. Josh immediately throws his head back, sinking lower into the chair.

“Oh my god.”

“Didn’t want to leave you hanging,” She smiled. Running her hands over the tops of Josh’s vinyl clad thighs. “I could see it while you were on stage. At least,” She paused to chuckle. “More than usual.”

Josh sighed, eyes fluttering open to stare at her between his legs again. She was so beautiful even when she smiled at him so wickedly.

“Want your cock in my mouth, Josh?”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Josh couldn’t take the teasing of her hands and her words.

“Just say ‘please’.” She stared at Josh seriously. Her hands toying with the button and zipper of his pants now, brushing just over his hardening length.

“Please, please, fucking please.” He rushed out.

She laughed and shook her head. “God, fine. Relax.”

Her hands expertly unhooked the button and slid the zipper down with practiced hands of a costumer. This was far more explicit than any of the other times she had undressed someone. Josh’s cock was hot and heavy in her hand and her core ached at the memory of where it had been almost a week ago. She ran her tongue against it and Josh groaned.

She lavished his head with a few kisses and looked up at Josh, beginning to suck on the side of it. “So pretty,” She murmurs.

Josh’s hips bucked in response, his hand going to rest in her hair, but careful not to guide her. He wanted to see what she did. She gathered a pool of spit to let fall onto his thick cock before languidly running her hand over the length, hoping to tease him a little more. She hadn’t forgotten the treatment he gave her on Saturday. Josh’s hips bucked again and he groaned her name.

Taking his head fully in between her lips, she took pity on him. Beginning her descent, she attempted to get him all in her throat but had about a handful left when he hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him and he jerked in her throat, causing her to fall back. She massaged her lips around the place where his head met the shaft before trying again. One hand on his thigh and one beneath his shirt, she bobbed her head slowly, suctioning occasionally until Josh was hissing about being close again.

She pulled off him and smiled at him from her position. Her lips were wet with saliva and precum. Josh’s eyes were half closed in pleasure but he couldn’t believe the look on her face. Breathing heavy, flushed from taking him down her throat. Her hand moved along his length faster.

“Tell me when,” She murmured, eyes moving from Josh’s face to her movements around him.

Josh nodded, trying to stay still. Overwhelmed. “Now.”

Her lips reattached to his head, sucking a little harder, while her hand still worked near the base. Josh’s hips bucked in time with the spurts that hit the back of her throat and she clenched around nothing, wishing more than anything that she was brave enough to attempt penetrative sex in public.

She pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth with a tired sigh. Josh’s satisfied smile watched her in awe, tucking himself away after a few moments of heavy panting.

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, petting at her hair before bringing her to kiss his lips. “Thank you. Wow. Just… so talented.”

“Josh Kiszka not having the right words,” She smiled against his lips. She pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I must be good.”

Josh sputtered, jumping to his feet and following her to the side of the door where she was grabbing her coat and extra stuff.

“Do you need a ride home again?”

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess. Can’t really go out there and tell ‘em I need their keys when I was supposed to have left 20 minutes ago. Plus they’re probably expecting me to come pick them up eventually so I need my car for that.”

“Josh,” She stopped his rambling. Her hand pressed flat against his upper chest, bringing his eyes to hers. “Relax. My jaw’s too tired to give you another stress relieving head session.”

Josh shut up and nodded. She smiled, pleased with herself. They grabbed their stuff and headed for her Volvo after she locked the green room door.

“Driving you home like you’re my little bitch,” She stated half-way through the drive she now knew without directions.

“Shut up.” Josh sounded annoyed but really he was smiling, staring out at the passing streets.

When they pull up to his house, Josh pauses. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Can’t tonight. See you soon though.”

She kisses his lips tenderly, cupping his strong jaw in a way neither of them had ever expected.

Mid December and the semester was over. Their short film was a success. It was the last Thursday Greta Van Fleet would be performing at Lover’s Inn until the new year. Josh and Y/N hadn’t had time to talk about them with the rush of finals and getting the film in in time for screening. There had been stolen kisses during late final cut editing nights and in the empty hallways of the film building, but nothing else.

Josh had arrived with Y/N, helping her set up so that she could be done early and they could have alone time before the rest of the band started to arrive. They were so excited to be done with everything, so pleased with themselves, that they were hurriedly making out against the snack table, unable to keep their hands off of one another a moment longer.

So wrapped up in one another, exchanging words of teasing and searing lips against soft skin, they don’t hear Danny and Jake walking in.

With Y/N pressed against the table, Jake and Danny get an eyeful of her hands on Josh, one on his waist pulling him closer and the other grabbing at his right jean-clad ass cheek.

Danny whistling loudly and Jake clapping his hands together leisurely cause them to spring apart. Josh spins around, flushed and out of breath while Y/N adjusts the top of her shirt that Josh had pushed to the side for more access to her skin.

“About time,” Jake says with a happy smile, stalking to place down his guitar case.

Danny laughs and Sam walks in shortly behind them, silent for a moment, appraising the situation before understanding and exclaiming: “To the happy couple!”

Josh groans at his brothers’ smug looks before smiling. She laughs, hiding her head behind Josh’s shoulder in mild embarrassment. Everyone cheers and it feels silly that they ever detested being in the same room as one another.

During their final performance, Josh waxes eloquent about his wondrous time he’s spent on this very stage. He thanks everyone and then pauses, searching the audience for Y/N.

“Now this next one goes out to my lover,” He says as he winks. “You know who you are!”

The crowd goes wild and a softer than usual guitar riff comes in from Jake’s playing.

“August, honey / Tasted sweeter with you / Sticky fingers / From your own residue,” He sang.

Jake got to kick up the guitar. The three guys even sang the little backing ‘ooh’s into their mics that were rarely used.

“We don’t talk about it / We don’t have the time / We thought love was something / We weren’t meant to find.”

Josh’s voice is a perfect fit for the cover, she thinks it sounds even better than the original.

“But don’t you remember / August, honey, you were mine!”

It hurts her heart to realize why her name was ‘August’ in Josh’s phone and not for the asshole-ish reason he had originally told her. Sure, they’d met in August three years ago, that was still true, but she’d also mentioned this song to him. When they’d first been paired up freshman year, he had asked her what the song was that was paused on her phone when he handed it back after typing in his number. Always being scatterbrained, especially at 18, he must have written it over her name…And it was ‘August’.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fan fiction #josh kiszka fan fic #greta van fleet fan fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #august honey you were mine

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aweskeetskeet · 7 months

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Bully~ bakugo x female reader

College AU, all characters 21+, smut

CW: teasing, degrading, bullying, name calling, hate sex, porn with plot, enemies to lovers

Seriously… a lot of plot

Like an excessive amount of plot

It was officially the end of your final year of university, you were relieved to soon be rid of the nasty bullies you constantly dealt with in the school hallways, Or rather a singular bully. You were always teased but there was one particular bully who was absolutely relentless, Katsuki bakugo. The lead quarterback of the universities football team. The boy who has been picking on you since the entrance ceremony. Some days it’s just a scoff at the sight of you, sometimes it’s teasing you about your height, some days it’s relentless name calling or messing up your hair that you spent all morning doing, and sometimes it’s just straight up kicking you to the ground and laughing in your face. He would do it right out in the open, right in front of the teachers even, and nobody would say anything.. why? Because the football team hadn’t lost a single game since he became QB. Jocks got away with anything and everything in your university. You knew that after you graduated you’d never have to see his face again and you couldn’t be happier. There was 2 weeks left until the final day of school and of course in the one class you shared with him the teacher decided to assign a final project rather than a final exam. A final group project. A final group project where he chose who worked together. A final group project where he assigned you and katsuki bakugo to be partners. As soon as the professor called out his name following yours you looked at him and he gave a cocky grin and waved. You wanted to die right then and there.

After class you tried to scurry away to avoid him but right as you got out the door he grabbed you and pulled you to the side pinning you against the wall. “Your place or mine?” He said looking down at you. “Huh?” You had to do a double take. “Are we doing the project at your place or mine, dumbass” you rolled your eyes. “Honestly I don’t care, I just want to get it done so I don’t have to deal with you ever again” he laughed. “Mine then, my parents will be out of town this weekend so we won’t have to worry about anyone interrupting us” “fine” you mumbled pulling out your phone to add it to your agenda. He snatched your phone out of your hand and started typing something into it. “Give that back!” You shouted trying to get it from him but he managed to evade any attempt. “Relax princess, just putting my number in” he tossed your phone back to you and you just barely managed to catch it. “I already texted myself so I have yours, I’ll send you my address, see ya later nerd” he said messing up your hair before walking off. He was surprisingly less ruthless than he normally is. All of a sudden your phone went off.

Sexy QB Bakugo: *insert address here*

“Is that seriously what he made his name..” you whispered to yourself shaking your head in annoyance

2 days pass and he hasn’t said a word to you. It was officially Friday. You walked out of the school building heading home when your phone went off.

Sexy QB Bakugo: tomorrow at noon, don’t forget.

You shook your head and sent back a simple thumbs up. As you walked in the door you could hear your mom shuffling around in the kitchen and walked towards it. “I’m home” you said tiredly and she smiled at you “welcome home sweety, I made you a snack” you smiled at her softly “thank you, do you mind if I take it up to my room? I have to study for a group project, also I’m heading to as classmates house tomorrow to work on it if that’s alright” “of course darling, and just let me know before you leave and write down the address” she responded quickly before turning around to start dinner. “Thanks!” You said as you walked away. You were honestly hoping she’d say no but knowing how sweet she was you already knew she’d say yes before you even asked. As you walked up the stairs you couldn’t help but think about when he pushed you against the wall. He’d never done that before and you never really got a good look at his face because you’d try to avoid eye contact anytime he bullied you. He’s honestly pretty attractive, no wonder all the girls swoon over him. I always wondered how he managed to get at least 1 love confession a week. You thought to yourself. If only they knew his personality, I still don’t get why he always turned them down, all of those girl were really attractive. You sat down at your desk and unzipped your bag pulling out your laptop and notebook. You started to search up the topic taking notes on whatever you could find that you found relevant. You lost track of time and ended up falling asleep at your desk. You jolted awake to find a blanket over you and a now cold dinner on the shelf beside you. You looked at the time and saw that it was 6am. You stood up and rubbed your eyes picking up the plate and making your way downstairs. You scraped it into the trash knowing it was no good anymore letting out a sigh feeling bad that your mom worked hard on it and you didn’t even eat it. Your eyes shot open realizing you had to go to your bullies house in 6 hours. Alone. He’s probably going to make fun of me and push me around the whole damn time. Why the hell did our professor have to pair us up. I bet He’s also going to make me do all the work. God he’s such an ass. you shook your head and pulled some frozen waffles out of the freezer and put them in the toaster oven. You sat down on the counter waiting patiently until you heard the ding. You pulled out the waffles, drizzled some syrup on them, grabbed a fork, headed to the couch, and turned on the TV. You wanted to distract yourself from the upcoming doom of this afternoon. After an hour of falling into a trance you snapped out of it hearing your mom walk down the stairs, “I’m off to work, have fun at your classmates house, don’t overexert yourself” “okay mom, have a good day, love you!” “Love you too sweety” she said walking out the door and you turned your attention back to the tv. You looked at the time and saw it was 10:30. You groaned and stood up walking to your room. You slowly undressed and hopped in the shower once again thinking about when you were pinned against the wall and you blushed. You slapped yourself across the face “GET IT TOGETHER” you said loudly. “This guy has been bullying you since freshman fucking year. It doesn’t matter how fucking hot he is” you took a deep breath and finished up your shower getting out and drying yourself off. You start to get dressed and do your hair and makeup. A basic Smokey eye look with some matte liquid lipstick. You weren’t allowed to wear makeup like this at school so you always took the opportunity to wear it whenever you can aka anytime you left the house for something other than school. You decided on a short skirt with black tank top tucked in and doc martins. Rather than glasses you put in contacts checking yourself in the mirror satisfied with your look. You looked at the time and saw it was 11:40 and went downstairs and began walking to the train station. You hopped on and sent a text to bakugo.

Y/n: Im on my way.

No response. Once you reached your stop you hopped off and began to walk to his house. You arrived right at noon with still no text from bakugo and knocked on the door. “I swear to god if he fucking forgot” you mumbled until the door swung open and You froze to see bakugo was in nothing but at towel. You froze for a second then immediately turned around. “Just got out of the shower and didn’t see your text, wait on the couch while I get dressed” he said so casually. You walked in shielding your eyes and sat on the couch As he walked back upstairs. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK you screamed internally. The picture of him half naked engraved in your brain and you thought about his prominent v-line… his sexy abs… his muscles that you could never really see because of his varsity jacket he always wore… you could tell your face was as red as a tomato. No. No. No. don’t think like that. You groaned with your head in your hands. You heard footsteps coming towards you. “Come on nerd, my rooms up here” you followed him up the stairs looking away from him. He opened the door and walked in and sat down at a table on his floor and you sat across from him trying to keep as far away as possible. You pulled out your notebook and laptop and shoved your notebook across the table. “This is the research I did last night” he shoved his across the table. “Here’s mine”. “You actually did research? Damn..” you said not taking your eyes off of the notebook he passed you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You ignored him and started reading everything he wrote down. “Ya know I can see your underwear the way you’re sitting.” He said casually and you gasped quickly readjusted your position blushing. “You’re actually pretty hot ya know” you froze. How dare he. How dare he all of a sudden compliment you after all these years. You froze. “What the fuck bakugo..” you said quietly. “What do you mean princess, you’re the one who flashed me” he said smirking. You gritted your teeth. “Shut up..” you said just above a whisper. “Just saying, you should dress like that more often” you slammed your hands on the table and sat up. “WHAT THE FUCK BAKUGO, ALL THESE YEARS. ALL THESE FUCKING YEARS SINCE THE GOD DAMN ENTRANCE CEREMONY YOUVE DONE NOTHING BUT TREAT ME LIKE SHIT. YOUVE PUSHED ME AROUND, CALLED ME NAMES, FUCKED UP MY HAIR, KICKED ME TO THE GROUND, YOUVE DONE NOTHING BUT MAKE EACH SCHOOL DAY A LIVING HELL AND NOW?! NOW YOU FUCKING COMPLIMENT ME?! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO BE HERE? DO YOU THINK I WANT TO BE SITTING FACE TO FACE IN THE DAMN ROOM OF A GUY WHO HAS FUCKING TORTURED ME DAILY FOR THE PAST 4 YEARS OF MY LIFE?!” You screamed at him. He stared at you frozen eyes wide. “I CANT BELIEVE THIS SHIT” you stood up to storm out of his room but right as you were almost out his door he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back and kissed you. You pushed him off of you and you froze. “Why..” you stared at the ground tears falling. “Why have you treated me like this, why did you do this to me, why.. why did you act like that and then all of a sudden do this..” he paused looking away. “Because I like you.. because I act like a dumbass elementary student and have been bullying the girl I like..” “how long” he looked at you confused. “How long have you liked me..” “since I saw you walk in the door to the ceremony..” “you’re lying.. you’re just doing this to fuck with me..” you looked up at him tears still rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry y/n..” you didn’t know what to say. “Why do you think I turned down all those girls.. hundreds of girls have asked me out since the first day of school and I turned down every one of them. Why do you think you were the only girl I messed with. I barely even spoke to other girls. I- I called you horrible names and I hurt you.. not only physically but emotionally.. I have never felt this way about anyone and I didn’t know how to react.. I’m sorry..” you looked at him. Analyzing his every movement and words trying to tell if he was lying. He was blushing deeply and looked like he was about to cry.

“Look me in the eyes bakugo” he didn’t move. “Look me directly in the eyes and tell me you like me. Tell me or I’m going to walk out of this room right now.” He slowly tilted his head the rest of the way up and looked at you in the eyes. “I like you y/n, always have” you wiped the tears off your face. He stepped toward you and you flinched a bit. He leaned forward and without even realizing it you did too. He kissed you and you could feel his passion. His fingers ran through your hair. And you wrapped your arms round him gripping his. He dipped his tongue into your mouth and your hatred went numb. You would deal with it later. You finally pulled away to get some air and he rested his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me y/n” “we can finish this conversation later” you said and smashed you lips back against his. He turned you around and walked you to his bed and hovered over you one hand beneath your head holding on, the other holding himself up and his knee between your thighs. He pulled back “Are you sure? If we continue I don’t think I’ll be able to stop” He asked with heated cheeks. “Yes” you said with doe eyes looking at him. he sat up and pulled his shirt off and you looked at him getting a full view of his abs and muscles this time. You sat up and pulled your tank top off and he paused for a moment just staring at you. You started to cover your chest feeling self conscious and he leaned in and pulled your arms away. “You’re gorgeous y/n, I’m sorry I told you otherwise”. He reached around and unclipped your bra and admired you again before leaning in and started to palm one of your breasts while kissing and sucking on your neck undoubtedly leaving hickeys but the second he found your sweet spot you were too far gone to care. You tilted your head to the side giving him more access letting out heavy breaths. He kissed and sucked all the way down your chest and started sucking on your nipple whist still palming the other. You let out a small moan and covered your mouth. “Don’t cover it, I want to hear you” you slowly pulled your hand away and he sat back and saw the marks he left. “I’m gonna make sure nobody even tries to touch you at school. They’re going to know you’re mine starting today. He pulled your skirt off and your underwear as he did you leaned forward and started giving him hickeys. “Same goes for you I guess” you said. Him allowing you to give him hickeys solidified that he was telling the truth. He reached his hand down and felt how wet you are. Then pulled his hand back and licked your slick of his fingers. He moved his hand back down and pushed two inside slightly curling them and you gasped. “You’re tight, I’m definitely gonna have to stretch you out” you eyes widen. “Is it.. is it really that big?” He smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see baby” you blushed nervously and moaned out as he started to thrust and curl his fingers in and out of you. “Ah- fuck” all of a sudden he slipped a thirds finger in and you gasped whimpering at the stretch. “So damn tight” he said under his breath and you could see a slight smirk on his face. You could feel the coil building up in your stomach as your legs started to shake. “Are you gonna cum babygirl?” “Ngk- mhm!” You nodded your head desperately. He chuckled curling his fingers directly onto your g-spot and then started rubbing your clit with his thumb “AH- TOO MUCH-“ the sensations overwhelming you, you came on his fingers breathing heavy. He pulled his fingers out. “I think you’re ready” he said lowering himself down licking up your slick and cum and you jolted at the feeling. You completely forgot about his dick. He looked down at you and your cherry red cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. He started to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants and boxers down groaning at the relief of his dick no longer being confined but the fabric. You looked to see just how big his dick really was and you froze. “It- not gonna fit” you say still trying to catch your breath. He leaned down and kissed you. “It will, trust me”

He started to suck on your swollen tender nipple again as he pushed the tip of his dick in and you gasped. He started to push further in and you winced in pain. “It hurts-“ you said, voice quivering. “It’ll be okay in a second just let yourself adjust”. You took deep breaths until the pain finally subsided. “Are you all the way in?” You said shakily “princess, it’s not even half way” he started to push himself in further and you gripped the sheets hard. “Too big!” He paused his movement again. “Breathe baby” you once again eventually adjusted and he finally bottomed out. You felt so full and could practically see a bulge in your stomach. He looked down at you. “Are you okay now?” You nodded your head and he started to very slowly move his hips. You gasped as the feeling of him slightly brushing against a spot that sent a wave of pleasure through you immediately wanting more. “Faster please” you said just above a whisper. He paused and smirked. “What was that?” “M-move faster please” you said a bit louder. And he chuckled beginning to move faster he continued to brush against that spot and you were trying to hold back moans. “I want to hear you baby” you squeezed your eyes shut biting your slip still trying to muffle the moans. He all of a sudden pulled all the way out and harshly slammed back into you and you shouted. “AH FUCK” and he moved at a rapid place heaving rubbing back and forth against your g-spot and you could hold back the moans anymore. As he moved in and out of you you were letting out porno level moans and he leaned down sucking on your neck as he continued. “Bakugo I’m gonna- ah cum!” He smirked. “Hold it in Baby” he started moving faster and you could barely speak. “N-need to-“ all of a sudden he pulled out. Your need to cum slowly fading as he edged you. You whimpered. “Please daddy~ fuck me so I can come~” you said in the most erotic way you could muster and he smirked. “Okay” he all of a sudden without warning slammed back into you moving at an ungodly pace. You felt you orgasm once again approaching with the coil in your stomach right about to snap. “Gonna- AH~ cum!” He slammed into you harder and used his hand to rub your clit. “Cum for me princess” and the second you heard those words you came vision glowing blurry from the best orgasm you’ve ever had, better than any time you’ve ever came from you touching yourself. He kept moving in and out. “Ngl~ gonna cum~” he thrusts became sloppy. All of a sudden you felt the warmth of his seed shoot inside you as he slowly pulled out wincing from the sensitivity. “Oh shit- are you in birth control?” You nodded your head tiredly. “Mhm.. no worries” he carried you to the bathroom and ran a bath. He layed you down in it and started gently washing you as you began to doze off. “Stay awake for a little longer baby” you nodded your head again barely able to hold your eyes open. “Do you wanna stay the night?” He asked and you nodded your head again. “Gotta call my mom though..” he nodded his head smiling. He finished washing you and lifted you out of the bath drying you off and carried you to the bed. He grabbed you one of his hoodies and sweatpants and dressed you. He tied the drawstrings so they didn’t fall down and handed you your phone.

You clicked on your mom’s number and called her.

Mom: “hey sweety what’s up?

Y/n: is it okay if I stay over at my friends place? I’m exhausted from studying and working on the project.

Mom: yeah that’s fine do you need to grab clothes?

Y/n: no, she is letting me borrow hers.

Mom: okay sweety, I’ll see you tomorrow, love you

Y/n: love you too

You hung and looked at bakugo. “She, huh?” You laughed softly “you think she’d let me sleep over at a guys house? You’re crazy” he smiled letting out q slight laugh and layed down next you and held you close and you quickly drifted off to sleep.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou x female reader #bakugo x reader

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hayatheauthor · 4 months

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Update Regarding My Sudden Hiatus + Author/Publishing News

Guess who's back from the dead!

Jokes aside, I truly do feel terrible for going on hiatus without saying anything, and then I come back and see that I've hit 2k (which btw is absolutely amazing and left me shell-shocked) and that just made me feel worse for leaving unannounced. So, here's everything that's been going on:

(click read more if you want to learn about my experience at my first writer's workshop & pitching to an agent ++ publishing updates for The Traitor's Throne)

If you DON'T want to read more: long story short I'm back and will revamp this blog Monday onwards.

Would you look at that I'm finally getting the hang of Tumblr etiquette!

Anyways, I know if I took the liberty of casually explaining everything we would just be here all day and I would ramble endlessly SO, I'm going to summarise everything into a list:

One of the biggest reasons for my departure was because *insert drum roll* I graduated! That's right, your girl is officially a diploma holder and ready to conquer college! Although I've seen the 'finals week or my final week' meme enough times to start questioning what I signed up for.

My writing life has been a little...disappointing. There's no other way to break it to you folks, but when I started this blog, I was knee-deep in the query trenches, and now, I'm still there. Does that suck? Yes. Am I going to give up? Absolutely not! BUT I do have some changes planned:

I've officially decided if this final shot at traditional publishing doesn't do well, I'm going to give in and self-publish The Traitor's Throne in May-June 2024. Which means you might potentially be able to purchase my baby pretty soon!

BUT I decided to give querying one last shot and actually joined a writer's workshop (which is going on as we speak btw). I joined the online Boston Writing Workshop, I'll drop a review on that on Sunday, but so far I've actually learned A LOT from it, and have decided to give querying another go while implementing what I've learned. Dw I'll also be putting out a review about the workshop on Sunday.

So, here's a summary: I've created a self-publishing deadline for my current project while also giving traditional publishing a final shot. I also joined my first ever writer's workshop this weekend and will be pitching to agents for the first time.

Overall, I think my lack of success in the querying scene kind of made me feel like a fraud when giving writing advice. I'm the type of author who does A LOT of research when I write, which is why I have so many tips on so many topics, but that doesn't make me an expert.

This workshop especially made me realise I've been making some rookie mistakes and focused so much on my story that I forgot the query and synopsis are just as important. Maybe this realisation came too late and I've lost my chance of traditionally publishing The Traitor's Throne, but I am grateful for everything it's taught me.

ANYWAYS—see what I meant by we'd be here the whole day if I didn't use a list??

Let's get back to the important stuff; yes, I will start putting out blogs again, and answering my asks. I'm also thinking of launching a beta reader project where I'll beta read some of your works for free! Stay tuned to see that announcement since it'll come soon.

Thank you so much for supporting this silly little blog of mine, and I hope you have a good weekend! As always, I'll see you on Monday! 💕✨

#hayatheauthor #haya sameer #writing community #haya's book blog #writing tools #writer things #haya blogs #writer community #writing advice #writer tips #querying process #querying #querying agents #haya: talks #haya: navi

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justatypicalwizard · 1 year

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Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 7

✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult

✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate even you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.

✦ Word count: 1,1k

18+, minors do not interact

The trip came to an end and you found yourself back at the dorms. After hearing the fight between the Kochou sisters and Shinazugawa, you thought about it a lot. He seemed so hurt back then. You still didn't know the other part of the story, maybe he did some bad things though. Well, you will most likely never know. There was also one more thing that crossed your mind many times. During the fight, Shinazugawa mentioned him being an orphan. That was some deep shit. In your eyes, he only looked more intimidating and somehow powerful. Achieving all that he had, while growing up with no parents and taking care of a brother. Damn, that man must be made out of stone.

All of that came back to you while you were getting dressed for the science fair. It was an annual party that your university held for all of its workers and students, as well as anybody who would be willing to come. They showed the biggest achievements of the previous year, some new projects, student work and so on. You felt like coming because Shinazugawa would be giving a free lecture.

After realising you may have a crush of your professor you felt kinda dumb but at the same time kinda good. It was just so nice, thinking about him, imagining scenarios and talking to him when you met him in the corridor or after lectures. No, you did not plan to hit on him, obviously. Yet, your small crush was not hurting anyone, was it?

✦

You found the class that Shinazugawa was supposed to give his lecture in. It was a big one with many seats and a huge blackboard. There was also a small exhibition with student work, mostly from Shinazugawas classes. Stepping closer to it, you spotted something familiar. It was your research, the additional one that you did some time ago. Reading through the text you reassured that it was, in fact, your piece of work. Looking around you spotted Shinazugawa looking at you. You pointed to the piece of paper, hanging on a board and grinned. He nodded your way with a small smile. The white haired man was just about to stand up from his seat when professor Rengoku came to him.

''What are you looking at, lady?'' You heard an unfamiliar voice behind you.

Turning around, you saw a tall man hovering upon you. He had a very classy suit that had many extravagant details about it. Some crystal looking things, red boots and fancy glasses chains. He had white hair, tied up in a ponytail.

''The work here.'' You spat out, not sure what to do.

''Hmm, I see.'' he hummed, looking at the piece of paper. ''And what's so interesting about it?''

''It's mine actually.'' You answered bluntly.

''Oh wow, how flamboyant.'' What?

Leaning over your shoulder, he took a look at your work.

''So your name is Y/N L/N? Truly pretty, suits a pretty girl like you.'' He grinned.

''Ah... thank you?'' Your voice didn't sound convincing.

''I guess, you're a student here, aren't you?''

''Yes.''

''What a pity, then asking you out for coffee gets slightly more extravagant. Yet, a sweet girl like you makes my doubts go away.'' He flashed you a smile.

''Ah...''

Meanwhile, Rengoku and Shinazugawa talked by the desk.

''See, I told you giving her more time would benefit.'' The blonde felt victorious.

''Yes, yes, you're always true. Now drop it'' Shinazugawa got annoyed.

''Did she come out that bad?''

''Why do you ask?''

''I've heard she was the only student that came to your field trip lecture. You two must have talked.''

''No, she was quite okay. A regular student.''

''Really, because you're glancing at her all the time. Usually, you would sit with your nose in your laptop.'' Rengoku wasn't convinced.

''What are you suggesting?''

''Nothing.'' The blonde waved his hands in front of his friend's angry face. ''Just so you know, it's nothing wrong. She's an adult, you're also one. She'll just have to take different classes, with some other professor.''

''Are you out of your mind?''

''No, I think I'm not.'' Rengoku shrugged. ''So if you're really not interested in her it won't bother you that Tengen is just talking with her, you know, his way.''

Shinazugawas head shot your way instantly, he didn't even think much about it.

''There you go.'' Rengoku sweatdropped.

''Shut up.'' With that, the white haired man stood up and went your way.

''So what do you think? Coffee later, maybe you could tell me something about that research, what motivated you to do it, how do you feel about it?'' The unknown man was still trying to pursue you.

''Tengen, cut the crap.'' Shinazugawas voice ringed in your ear as he reached you.

''Welcome professor.'' You greeted him happily.

''Hello, hello dear Shinazugawa.'' Tengen looked at him with a slick smile. ''How are you today?''

''Very good, I would be even better if I knew you were not hitting on my student, in my class, in front of everyone without any qualms.''

''Oh, okay mister grumpy.'' Tengen laughed. ''I'm just interested in our today's youth.''

''Of course. Miss L/N, don't treat this too seriously, he acts like that with every woman he meets.'' Shinazugawa turned your way.

''No need to worry, I'm sorry Mister Tengen but I was not actually considering your offer.'' You laughed awkwardly.

''Too bad, was this too sudden?'' He didn't drop the topic.

''No, it's just...'' You really wanted to end this part of the conversation and you had to think about something that would shut him for good. ''I'm already interested in someone else.''

''I see, then I must not ruin this, please forgive me.'' He made a funny, shocked look. ''I must leave now for my lecture, sorry to end such an interesting conversation in the middle, we may meet again at the university sometime. Adios.'' The man bowed before you and walked away, with that slick smile still plastered on his face.

Wait, was he a professor here? That was so weird! A professor just hit on you.

''Seriously, don't take it as anything special. He's... just like that all the time.'' Shinazugawa sighed.

''I get it, it was still weird though.'' You let out a small laugh. ''And kinda funny. Anyway, did you want something from me, professor?''

It struck the white haired, he didn't have any business for you. He just saw Tengen doing Tengen things and he didn't feel right knowing you were hit on by someone. Why did he do that? Why did he feel the urge to go and get Tengen off of you? Shit, he was doing weird things.

''Just wanted to tell you about the work that I posted here.'' He came up with an excuse.

''Oh, thank you so much. I appreciate it. It feels great to see that your work actually means something.'' You grinned, happy with yourself.

''That's true.''

Looking at the time, he excused himself and went back to his desk, the lecture was about to start. One thought clouded his mind and he couldn't stop to think about it.

You said that you were interested in someone already. Who was that?

SERIES MASTERLIST

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #college #university #college student #shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer shinazugawa #shinazugawasanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi smut

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cora626 · 25 days

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Oldtown Progress

All the properties are now finished. All I have to do is set everything up and have it looked at by the Expert 😉 PT ❤️. I will then have one of my awesome play testers test it out. and then I will roll it out! So excited. Here is the breakdown on the property changes to make it look like before the Pleasantview renovations took place.

7 Sim Lane is back on here as this is the version I had before the Pleansantview renovation. A lot is the same, but the landscape is a little different.

All I did on 55 Ingleside Drive was change the roof.

Completely changed 57 Ingleside Drive. This one came out cute.

Another version of Custer's Market. I think I like this one better. Shhh...

I made Pet Paradise look like it used to. I used a version of this property as a template. I copied the layout onto a larger lot I maintained most of their ideas. It's a property from TSR. I am only including the link to give this artist credit for their hard work that I copy catted.

Lot from Simsdownload 12

The only thing that changed here were the exterior cosmetics.

I wanted the original looking McArthur Square, so I found Broomhilda's version. I tweaked it some. I just didn't want to re-invent the wheel. Broomhilda's McArthur Square.

I rebuilt The Gothic Quarter to try to make it the community lot it was. This is not a hotel like in the New Pleasantview version but just as cool on the inside.

All I did was change the roofing and paint on this beautiful property by @plumbtales Only to make it look more like the classic version from Sims 1. Everything else is as Plumbtales designed it.

This version of 77 Maple Street is only partially mine. An MTS artist did an awesome job on this lot. I have sent them a message letting them know I was going to use in my version of Old Town. Check out the original, it's so much cooler and if you like that version better exchange it that one :D.

Seba569003's 77 Maple Street.

Here's is another beautiful property @plumbtales made for the New Pleasantview. All I did here was repaint and remove some landscaping. Not much to change. Plumbtales work is always impeccable!

That's all folks. After this I will focus on scripted events for New Pleasantview. And this project will be complete. Then back to remodeling college lots and game play :).

Thank you all so much for the awesome comments and reblogs of New Pleasantview. Also, I will also be uploading all the properties I have made for New Pleasantview separately just in case there are people who just want certain properties for their game.

#oldtown #oldtownremake #sims 2 #ts2 #ts2 lots #ts2 cc free #cc free

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fortunesfavours · 3 months

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time travel in ten - sequential narrative collage piece done for my class, Artifact.

ramblings below the cut for those interested in the process/life update for friends who have noticed i've been gone

right lmao. i had two weeks to do this project and had a completely different idea that i just could not get myself to be excited about. emailed my prof in desperation, but it being like 10 pm meant that she was not about to respond. within 30 minutes, as it goes, i got struck with divine inspiration by whatever force of nature governs procrastination-induced genius, and i promptly spent the next 12 waking hours non-stop working on this.

my class, artifact, is a requirement for the foundation year at the college i attend. it centers around time-based media, ranging from the sequential illustration here to video later in the semester, and a bunch of other projects designed to get us thinking in 4d. artifact is the theme of the class - my peers are doing the same projects under a variety of different themes (tragically, haunting filled up too quickly and i missed out on enrollment in that one).

our first project was designing an artifact and doing a write-up of the story behind it. the girl to my left made beaded spiders members of a fictional cult carried. the guy across from me made an amulet of a long-dead god. you get the vibes. mine, which I still need to take professional photos of, is a pocketwatch that lets you time travel. cause, yknow. i'm me. it was gonna be about time travel.

i had originally intended to do a bunch of drawings of the watch's owner, building out her backstory and the world she lives in, and explaining why the watch exists,,,, then i couldn't bring myself to pick up the stylus. I just can't seem to find the energy for my usual digital art (sorry friends i miss yall i'm still here i swear).

here's the bit about my life so feel free to stop reading if you just care about the art 👍

I haven't drawn fanart or my ocs in months now, since last semester, and I miss it a whole bunch but right now that creative energy just. is not happening. i don't plan on abandoning it forever by any means, but p much everything i have is going towards school right now. sad as that is, i'm having so much fun, and i'm so proud of the technical improvements i've made. I've got so many things i want to create, mostly for my ocs. i still love crit role, but i've fallen of campaign three. i don't have the time, and the story hasn't been engaging me for a bit.

i've been really into dr who lately, and am eagerly waiting for the spare time to sit and watch all of candela obscura. i'm in a new dnd game. i've got friends! real life friends! irl friends who called me the wizard friend within a few hours of knowing me before i even opened my mouth about dnd lmao. i've discovered a new love of collage, and i've just declared my major in something unique to my school, a program called Studio for Interrelated Media. i'll be learning about illustration still through the extra electives i'll have room for, but i also get to explore printmaking in more depth, as well as event planning, installation, curation, and theatre work as well.

i miss being on here a whole bunch and want to be more active when i get more time. don't plan on abandoning this blog by any means. boston has been kind to me, and though i have had some Real Low Points, i've also been living the life i've hoped for since i was a kid. i'm good, really really good.

to my friends, ily, i miss you, and i hope you're well. can't wait to catch up on all yalls art and fic. sending all my love. <3

#my art #collage #mixed media

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sketchinginredpen · 6 days

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The Right Choice.

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Prompt: Write a character who struggles to do “the right thing”.

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Does she really deserve it more than me? Would I really be the bad person for taking this job?

“She has made more sacrifices than you have.”

“She needs this more than you do.”

“What have you done that makes you deserve it?”

Doesn’t me getting the opportunity show that I deserve it more? That I won this?

I know I’m right, I know, but…. the way they look at me when I don’t immediately agree with them. That I don’t nod along and praise her for her determination despite what she has gone through. That I don’t give her something that is MINE. It sickens me. They are all in agreement, they barely even ask me to give it to her, in fact, they don’t even ask. They act as if it’s obvious that I need to give it to her, that this isn’t something to question. I’m going to give it to her and that’s final, that’s what they all think.

They see my hesitation.

“Don’t be selfish. She’s been working at this company for over a decade, and this is probably her last chance to work on a project this big. Don’t take that from her.”

Take. I’m not taking anything. I was given this. How am I selfish for not wanting to give away something that is mine. I’m not in a that much better situation than she is. I’m the newbie, this is a test to see if I’m worth putting onto projects like this. I’m surprised they even let me on something this big this early on. If I give it away….it’s like saying I don’t think I’m cut out for this. That I would rather give the job to someone that’s been here for so long and hasn’t done anything, than do it myself. I don’t say anything. I already know what they’ll say. “You have time to show them later. You’ll be here for a long time like the rest of us. You have nothing to lose, she has everything to lose. This is her last chance.”

I don’t want to give it to her. I don’t!

They look at me like a child on the school bus that doesn’t want to give up their window seat. Like a kid that won’t let someone else win the game that their good at. The kid that won’t share their favorite snack with a friend because it’s their last one. Like a kid.

“So?”

I don’t look at them when Anthony asks that. I stare at the paperwork on my desk, looking at the letters but not reading the words.

He clears his throat, “So?”.

I won this, I did. But…I’m new. Do I really want to make enemies on a job this early on. While she might not be popular among the higher ups, she clearly has everyone else on her side. Pitying her, rooting for her, and fighting for her.

Once they heard that I was given the job opportunity instead, an invite into one of our company’s big projects, they crowded around my cubicle. Some standing politely, others holding paper cups with cheap coffee in it, and Anthony leaning on a wall of the cubicle, slightly hovering over me. Aren’t things supposed to change after high school? Aren’t we supposed to act like adults?

Peer pressure. The thing our parents tell us to avoid when we get into high school and college. The old “if your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?”. Don’t drink because your friends do. Don’t party because your friends do. Don’t do something just because your friends tell you to. Don’t do the wrong thing just because your friends do.

Am I wrong for wanting this? I feel like a kid being questioned by my parents if I really need something or just want it. That there is a difference. "You don't need this, you want this.".

I look up suddenly at Anthony, as if I was lost in reading the paperwork, “hmm?”.

“You’re going to give your position to Miss Carrie, right?”

“…...no?”

He gave me a disgusted face. “What are you talking about? Didn’t we all just agree that she deserves it more than you? She’s been working at this company for longer than you’ve been alive, and now that you’re the only thing standing in the way of her getting this opportunity, you’re going to stop her?”.

I’m a THING standing in her way. A thing.

“If that’s how you want to see it, sir, yes. I was given this opportunity to prove myself to the higher ups, and I won’t disappoint them. I’m sorry that that affects Miss Carrie, but that’s how it is.”

Was I speaking to harshly? Was I getting ahead of myself? Was my tone polite enough? I don’t want this biting me later. I should have spoken weaker, make myself seem smaller.

Am I making the right choice?

---

Thank you for reading! and sorry for any writing mistakes!

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jangofettjamz · 2 months

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Where I've been... (depression sucks)

Hello, to my followers and readers I just wanna say I'm so so so terribly sorry for not informing you of my whereabouts.

I'm gonna be blunt, I've been fucking miserable over the last year. My depression has kicked in full force and I'm so annoyed that all the progress I've made to get better seems to have gone down the drain. This has been due to multitude of reasons; college has been an absolute nightmare to deal with, my I feel like I'm failing at everything I do despite the work I produce. Working on multiple I.T projects at once is literal pain.

A close friend of mine also passed away which devastated naturally. We had the same first name and has been piller in my life, encouraging me to follow my passion and navigate through a world I had no understanding of due to being so closed off. He pushed my autistic ass to do things I would've never dreamed of, and some heart condition he wasn't even aware of killed him on his sleep. Life is so fucking unfair.

Which brings me to my third reason, I miss my mom. She passed away from COVID-19 nearly three years ago, caught it while working in a COVID-19 ward as a nurse for the NHS. She always rooted for me to do what I loved and was my biggest supporter in life and it irritates me that some virus cut her life so short. I partly blame the UK gorvernment for that. As much as I love my step mom, she can never replace her. I've tried so hard to get over her death, but I just can't...

So long story short, life has gotten really really harsh and I couldn't find the motivation to post anymore, but that doesn't mean I won't post ever again. You readers are so lovely to interact with and I hope to post more content for you to enjoy in the future to come.

I wanna thank the writers who have created some amazing stories for me to read during this REALLY shitty time in my life, you guys have talent that I could only aspire to reach someday. Here's just a few examples: @void-wolfie @lesbianpepsi @ajortga @cobaltperun @kaisacobra and many other writers.

And to the people who are only just finding out about me, welcome. I hope you stick around and read some of my content.

Feel free to message me or ask me stuff, I still wanna interact with you guys even if I'm not posting.

I dunno when I'll be back, but I will be. But right now, I've gotta go to therapy. Take care you lot. ❤️

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #fanfic #x reader

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arielhopepeace · 11 months

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Welcome, my loves, to another Joel Miller fanfic! Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading this story since this one focuses on the traumatic past of y/n ❤️ it shows how she’s able to push past the trauma to find love in a man again. This is something I have personal experience with, and I know how hard it can be. So, I’m hoping that it may be a comfort to anybody who needs it. It certainly was comforting to write 💕

She is a successful 25 year old lawyer, and Joel is a successful 35 year old dad who owns his own carpentry business and seeks out y/n for help! This was a story suggestion from a good friend of mine, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Part two is here

18+ only

Tw: smut, talk of sexual assault, trauma flashbacks, anxiety, panic attacks, age gap, talk of death of loved ones, talk of drug abuse

Word count: 7,500

"Ms. Y/l/n, your three o' clock is here," my receptionist says gently over the intercom.

I let out a preemptive sigh, squaring my shoulders as I adjust myself in my chair. It's not common for me to take on male clients, being that I'm not particularly fond of them.

The only man in my life is my dad. Even though he lives about an hour away, we still talk every day with the occasional FaceTime chat so that we can see each other when our schedules are too busy for in-person meetings. He's my rock. He got me through the most difficult times in my life, and worked two jobs just to put me through college.

Thanks to him, I'm now an accomplished lawyer at twenty-five years old. I owe my life to my dad, and I know that no other man could ever live up to everything he's done for me. It doesn't matter if they tried. I'd never trust them, anyway.

"Send him in," my voice barks.

It's not Cynthia's fault that I'm on edge about a man coming into my office. It's only that he's the first man I'll have been alone with since...him; the name that I never allow to pass my lips, the name that any time I hear it out in public it makes me cringe and spark that bit of fear in my chest. He is the reason for my total disrespect and mistrust for men, because he showed me how truly evil they can be.

There's a knock on my office door, and I let out a short, clipped entry to the client. He steps in and closes the door behind himself, the lock clicking only promoting my apprehension for accepting his case. I wish my boss wouldn't have talked me into it; wish he wouldn't have made a fuss about me not accepting a male client and how it's not ethical. I can accept whatever client I damn well please, and I don't want a man telling me otherwise. But I have to keep my job. It's always been my dream to be a lawyer. It was my father's dream, too, but he could never afford the schooling. That's why he worked so hard to make sure I got in. He wanted it for me as badly as he wanted it for himself.

"Hi, I'm Joel Miller," the man's voice interrupts me from mindlessly shuffling through papers on my desk.

When I turn my gaze up to his I feel myself gulp, flicking my eyes briefly over to the shut door before having them settle back onto his. They're soft and brown, inviting, and seeming wholly innocent. His skin is tanned and smooth, only having slight wrinkles at the creases of his eyes. He has dark hair that's a bit longer, resulting in small, half-curls scattered sporadically on his head.

His hand is extended to mine, and I stand, reluctantly taking it to maintain professionalism. I never should've accepted a male client. My heart rate must be through the roof at this point, my palms a sweaty mess that he probably took notice of. God, get it together, y/n. It's your job.

"How can I help you today, Mr. Miller?" My voice projects smoothly, not having a hint of anxiety in it.

How did I manage to pull that off?

He shifts a bit in his seat before his eyes meet mine, still having that magnetic, gentle demeanor to them. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

I smile with a nod, even though I didn't really have a choice. My boss was so heavily insisting that I chose a male client, that he basically threw this guy into my lap.

"Of course, Mr. Miller."

"I own Miller Carpentry over on Hugh street," he gestures a tanned finger in the general direction, "and recently I hired a few new people to go do some jobs independently without me being a shadow. Well, that was a mistake. One of them took the money from a few jobs and never gave me, the company, a percentage of it."

My pen glides across the paper as I take notes of his claim, trying not to focus on the fact that we're alone in the room. I make bullet points of everything I'd like to incorporate if this gets brought to court, adding potential selling points beneath each sentence.

"And I'm assuming you tried to reach out and you had no luck?"

Joel shrugs. "It's like he's a ghost. Can't find him anywhere."

"How much did he make off with? Do you know?"

He exhales sharply. "At least five grand."

My eyes flick to the closed door again, letting out a gentle sigh as I try to relax. "I'll contact a friend at the police station and see if he can't find your worker. If he doesn't pay, he'll go to jail and end up having to pay you back one way or another."

"I contacted police, and they said to find a lawyer in the meantime because he most likely won't just give it up."

I scoff as I roll my eyes. "People are untrustworthy."

Joel beams at me once I stop scribbling, my tense body shifting again. "In the ten years I've had my business, this is the first time this has happened, so I'd like to say that's not true."

"Ah, so you're a carpenter and an optimist. Sounds exhausting."

He laughs heartily, the sound slightly relaxing me. "I think it's only normal for lawyers to be pessimists. You deal with criminals for a living."

"I like to avoid taking on cases that make me uncomfortable, Mr. Miller. So, no. I don't normally deal with criminals."

His fingers scratch at his slight facial hair as he continues smiling. The hairs are gray mixed with mostly black, like a medley of salt and pepper.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't do it. It's mentally demanding, I'm sure."

My mouth twists up slightly. "It entertains my therapist."

Joel chuckles, my shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I wanted to discuss cost with you. How much will you cost if we go to court and we win?"

"When you win, it'll be about two and a half grand."

He breathes out heavily. "Okay, I can swing that. I'll be able to use the half of what I'm owed from him, then."

"There's cheaper lawyers out there, Mr. Miller. If finances are an issue, I can refer you to someone else."

He shakes his head vehemently. "A friend suggested you to me, and she said you were great. So, I thought it would be best to go to someone that has a good reputation."

I beam. "I'm glad to hear good things about me."

Joel grins back, flashing a neat, white smile. I'm ashamed to admit that I find him incredibly attractive. It's been years since I've looked at a man in any way other than a predator, but Joel seems—kind. I'm immediately putting an end to those thoughts, shaking my head in disgust for betraying the promise I made to myself when I was seventeen. I'll never let a man in again, and I intend on keeping that promise.

Clearing my throat, I pick up my pen again. "May I have your home and email addresses, please?"

He recites them to me and I scribble them down, nodding my thanks.

"I'll keep in touch via email with any updates on what I hear back. Could I also get the man's first and last name?"

"Kevin Bridges," Joel says bitterly. "Bastard."

I chuckle, a sudden buzzing interrupting the meeting. Joel pulls his phone out and gives me an apologetic look before he answers the call.

"Hi, honey, I'm in an important meeting. Are you okay?" Joel hums sweetly.

Must be his wife, right? I glance over to his left hand and notice an empty ring finger. Okay, his girlfriend, then.

"I'll be home soon. Just stay with Mrs. Cheshire until I get there, okay? I don't want you home alone." His eyes briefly flick to mine and I smile. "Okay. I love you too, Sarah. Bye." Joel sighs with raised brows as he beams. "I'm sorry, that was my daughter."

"Oh," I grin, for some reason feeling relieved. "How old is she?"

"Ten. She thinks she's a full-grown adult who can stay home unsupervised. I just have her go by the neighbor's when I don't make it home in time after school. She's an old lady that loves my Sarah to death."

My chest aches when he talks about his daughter, so much enthusiasm and evident love in his words. It reminds me of my dad and I, and it makes me miss him desperately.

"Sarah seems like a lucky girl to have you as her dad," I smile. "It's just me and my dad, too. My mom left the picture when I was very little. Drugs."

Joel's brows knit with what I can only describe as sympathy. I don't want him to pity me. "I'm sorry. Sarah's mom died when she was a baby, so she doesn't really know what it's like to have a mom."

"I'm sorry for your loss." My voice is robotic, as I always have to be to detach myself from my clients. "Poor girl," I say with a hint of my genuine emotion.

"Ah, she's wonderful. Highest grades in her class, and quick as a whip," he laughs fondly. "Definitely gets it from her mom."

I chuckle, clearing my throat as I stand, holding my hand out. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Miller. I'll be in touch."

He stands, too, taking my palm into his and giving a firm shake. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you again."

I nod, practically sprinting to the door to allow the fresh air into my suffocating office. Joel walks out with a grin, my eyes briefly following him before I disappear behind my desk again. It feels like I can finally breathe now that he's not here. It's not that I felt unsafe or uncomfortable in his presence, but it's exactly that fact that concerns me. Last time I felt comfortable around a man, horrible things happened. I can't let a man force his power over me ever again. I won't let it happen.

My house is empty as it always is when I walk in, the crisp air greeting me in the delicious way it does to alleviate my warmed body from the scorching summer weather. It's July, and I'm convinced the sweltering heat will be the death of me.

I kick off my heels and strip off my stockings from beneath my skirt, laying them on my neatly made bed before walking naked to the shower. The hot water is a welcoming feeling after the stress of the day.

Joel Miller is the first male stranger I've been alone in a room with since I was seventeen, which was eight years ago. He was friendly and handsome, but he also needed something from me. Men are always nice to you when they need something. I can't think about his soft brown eyes and expect them to be just as inviting when he no longer needs my help.

How am I going to continue meeting him in private until his case is solved? I'm so damned anxious the entire time, and it eats me alive. Yes, he seems kind, but so do all men until it's their time to strike and you instantly become their prey.

Panic consumes me, reliving the horrible, violent memories that I've experienced as I fall to the shower floor, holding myself tightly in my arms. I was so young, and somebody that I loved and trusted took advantage of me. Of course I've somewhat moved passed the sexual abuse, but there's always my days where something triggers my brain, and I'm in a rough state for the remainder of my time awake.

Today is one of those days. Joel's presence set me into a downward spiral of all-consuming panic. I'm tempted to plead to my boss about it, and beg for him to be reassigned elsewhere, but I know he won't have it without an explanation.

Nobody knows what happened to me when I was seventeen besides my dad and a few police officers. My ex-boyfriend who abused me, Justin, got a few months in jail since he was also seventeen. The man who helped him, however, was twenty-four at the time and got sentenced to one year in prison. I wanted the judge to grant a lengthier sentence, but since it was their first offenses, he cut them some slack.

Being a lawyer, I've had several opportunities to defend sexual assault victims, and I have. I've always advocated for lengthier sentences, and almost every time I'm met with a judge who takes my suggestion. I can't help but wonder if Joel's friend who suggested me to him was a woman who I've helped with a sexual assault case.

I'm glad that it's not common knowledge amongst the public about my past. It's not something I want people knowing and pitying me for, or thinking I'd be too emotional to do my job. Never once have I lost my composure in a court room during one of those cases, and I never will.

Before anything else, I'm a professional, and I don't let my emotions get the best of me at work. I'm not the type to express my feelings, either, not even to my dad. He always knows when something's bothering me, but I normally change the subject and brush it off as to just being tired. It's just hard to open up. I hate doing it.

Later as I lay in bed, slightly wine-drunk and ready for sleep, I'm reminded of the gentle burr of Joel Miller's voice. His hand was heavy and calloused in mine, making me feel as if someone had just given me a massive weight to hold. His tanned skin flashes in my mind, and I can't help but wonder what he smells like. Does he have a specific scent that smells just as manly as he appears?

Without realizing, I'm grinning with my eyes closed, picturing my fingers in his loose, soft-looking hair as I inhale whatever aroma lingers on his neck.

***

My eyes scan the document in front of me, nodding as I copy a few pieces of information and type it into my email for a client. A slight ding hums through my computer, and I instantly click on my email notification.

To: Y/n Y/l/n

Subject: Rat Bastard

Hi, Ms. Y/l/n,

I was just reaching out to let you know that the son of a bitch was finally caught. He agreed to give me back what was owed to me, and wants to avoid court and jail at all costs. I decided to not press charges even though he's still a bastard. Thank you again for all of your help so quickly. I really appreciate it. I know that you don't need to be paid unless you win the case, but I still took up your time. If you ever need some carpentry work done around your house, I'll do whatever you need for free. Please don't hesitate to call or text if you ever need anything. My number is 276-555-0909. Thank you again.

Joel Miller

A little sigh leaves my curled lips, my heart drumming in my chest. I'm relieved yet saddened that Joel won't be joining me in my office anymore. Of course I know that I can contact him at any time, but I don't need any carpentry work done around the house even a little bit.

My washer has been on the fritz, leaking a bit almost every time I do laundry, but I was just going to buy a new one. The one I have isn't old, there's just something wrong with it. Should I ask Joel for help with it?

No, that's ridiculous, right?

How insane am I that I'm letting a strange man into my house just because I want to spend some time around him? No, I'm crazy. I can't do that. What if he hurt me? What if he tried to attack me?

I immediately halt my racing thoughts, closing his email and resuming my other one. Just because I find Joel attractive, doesn't mean that I can just start letting my sky high walls down. He's still a man, and that makes him dangerous.

At home, I finish my call with my dad. We caught up on our current work lives and anything new that's happened. It's luckily all the same as usual, and we made plans to see each other soon.

My bare feet patter into my laundry room, seeing that there's a puddle on the floor, making me scoff and curse. It feels like the universe is telling me to call Joel and have him come over to help me, but I'm too afraid.

If I invite him over, he'll be the first man ever in this house, and I don't want to forsake my promise. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I let out a sharp exhale, pulling up the email app to copy Joel's number, pasting it into my phone. My thumb hovers over the "call" option, my heart feeling like it's about to leap out of my chest.

Before I realize what I've done, the line is trilling, and it's too late to hang up now.

"Hello?" he answers curiously.

"Hi, Mr. Miller. It's y/n y/l/n."

"Oh, hi!" Joel says brightly. "I take it you got my email, then."

"Yes," I say shyly, clearing my throat. "Um, are you busy?"

The line is quiet for a moment, then he speaks. "No, actually. I just settled into the couch with Sarah to watch some show that she likes, but I don't think she cares whether I'm here to watch it or not," he laughs. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"How much do you know about fixing washing machines?"

Joel chuckles. "I'm a very handy man, Ms. Y/l/n."

"Mine has been leaking for a bit, and I just walked into my laundry room to find a huge puddle. You think you can help?"

"Definitely. I'll grab my tools. Could you send me your address? I'll leave now."

I clear my throat, panic constricting it. "Uh, if you're comfortable with it, you can bring Sarah. I know you said you usually leave her with the neighbor if you can't supervise her."

Joel laughs lightly. "I'm not sure if she'll want to come, but I'll ask her. Thank you for thinking of her. That's sweet of you."

I giggle, the thought of Sarah being here comforting me. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

"Bye." I hang up.

I'm suddenly scrambling to my bathroom, drying my wet feet on the carpet that lays in front of the sink. My fingers run through my hair in an anxious manner, attempting to tame it a bit. I opt for throwing it up into a messy bun, reapplying my subtle makeup just a bit to my eyes.

Why am I trying to look good for Joel? God knows. I haven't been this way in years, but something about him just draws me in. Everything in my mind is screaming at me to not give in, and to stay alone as I had planned to. It's safer when you're alone. There's no one here to hurt you. It's just you and solitude.

When I hear my doorbell, my heart picks up its pace, and the panic has settled in to my bones. I'm letting in deep breaths, breathing them out slowly. Joel won't hurt me, right? He's only here to fix my washer. He wouldn't do anything else...right?

I swing open the door and see Joel with a smile fitted onto his face, and a large toolbox in his right hand. He's wearing dark blue jeans that hang from his hips, a white v-neck shirt and large brown work boots on his feet.

My eyes search for his daughter, desperately hoping that she's here. "Hi, thanks for coming by." I gesture him inside.

Joel nods and steps in, standing in the living room. "Your house is beautiful. When did you buy it?"

"Last year," my voice croaks, making me clear it. "But thank you. I like it a lot. It's my favorite home I've ever lived in."

He chuckles, his eyes briefly on the floor before they meet mine again. "Care to show me to your flood?"

I laugh, beginning to walk toward the laundry room. I open the door, revealing the several towels that I've laid out to clean up the mess. Joel steps right onto them, his boots leaving a distinct print in the fabric.

"Did you turn the water off to the house?"

I nod. "Yes, actually. I figured that might be a problem."

Joel settles down onto his knees on the damp tile, opening the washer door. "Just don't want to be sprayed."

My eyes linger back to the closed front door, shifting in the entryway of the laundry room. "So, Sarah didn't want to come, I take it?"

"Nah, she wanted to watch her show. I told you she didn't care if I was there or not."

I giggle, admiring the flex of his biceps as he stretches into the washer. "I'm sorry to pull you away."

"No, don't be," he beams at me. "I'm more than happy to help you."

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles. "Water would be fine, and please call me Joel."

"Right," I smile, my cheeks feeling hot.

I leave the laundry room, making my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, walking it back to Joel where half of his body is inside of the washing machine. My lingering gaze admires the strength of his thighs in his jeans. He's such a man.

God, what is he doing to me? I never think like this. Not even about handsome celebrities I see on tv.

"Here you go," I finally say, setting the bottle down beside him. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No. I think I see your problem, though."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask hopefully. "What is it?"

"There's a bit of a hole in your water connection. I'm not sure how that happened, but you'll need a new pipe."

I sigh, shaking my head. "How much do those cost?"

He leans out of the washer, standing up. "Free, because I'm buying it."

My eyebrows fit together. "Joel, I can't have you purchase the part and install it. It's too much."

"You helped me. Now I want to help you."

"I barely did anything."

He smiles vastly. "But you were willing to do everything."

"It's just my job." My voice is small.

Joel eyes me. "Do you not like people doing things for you?"

I sink in to myself, my cheeks feeling hot. "I don't know. I guess not."

"Hm," he smirks. "Would you like to go to the supply store with me for a new hose?"

"Sure," I say before even thinking.

Joel beams as we exit the room, my hands shaking as I slide on my shoes. I grip my keys, feeling them jingle more than necessary from my trembling as I lock the front door. I turn around to see a large black truck, relaxing a bit at the roominess of the cab.

Why did I agree to having Joel drive me around town? The last man who ever drove me anywhere was Justin, and I was stuck where he took me, having horrible things done to me with no escape. The memory makes me wince as panic twists in my chest.

Joel opens my door for me, and I look to him with a shocked expression. He holds his hand out for me to grab and surprisingly I do, loading myself into the passenger seat of his truck.

He steps into the driver's seat, my eyes adverted away from him as I buckle my seatbelt. My leg is bouncing anxiously, my gaze fixed out the passenger window.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks gently from beside me as we drive down my road.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Sorry, just a long day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

My head turns to look at him, and he's giving me a gentle smile back, the wrinkles by his eyes deepening. His eyes are still that puppy-dog style brown that is alluring and comforting all at once. He isn't looking at me any differently than he was in my office, and he no longer needs anything from me.

"Oh, uh, just a difficult case, I guess. I can't give too many details, you know," I fib.

He nods, "Of course. Well, from what I've heard, you're a wonderful lawyer. My friend raved about you."

"Who's your friend?"

"Vivian Meyers. You helped her with her sexual assault case."

My body stiffens. Damn, I knew it. "Oh, yes. I remember her."

His eyes soften as they look to me. "You really helped her get justice."

"It's just what should've been done. Too many of those creeps get away with light sentences. I don't let that happen, if I can help it."

He beams wide at me, turning his gaze back to the road. "You're an incredible woman, y/n."

My cheeks warm to his compliment, my body wiggling in my seat. "Thank you."

After the supply store, Joel gets right to work on the washing machine, shoving his body behind it to unscrew the faulty hose on the outside to replace it. My stomach turns with hunger, my hand flying to it to grip it tightly. I was far too anxious to eat earlier, and now I'm suffering the consequences of that decision.

"Can I treat you to dinner?" I ask Joel, gazing at his legs since it's the only part of him I can see.

He laughs. "You don't have to repay me for this, y/n. I really don't mind."

"C'mon," I laugh, "please? You've been so kind."

Joel lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, making me giggle. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

"Ooo, something simple. I'm not much of a cook."

He laughs. "That makes two of us. I'm good with anything. I'm not picky."

"Chinese food?"

"God, my stomach is growling just thinking about it. Yes, please," he says loudly.

I chuckle as I pull out my phone, adding a few things to the basket that I want. "What do you like? I ordered chicken and broccoli, egg rolls, pork fried rice, and steamed dumplings."

"Oh, god," he groans playfully, the sound stirring something unfamiliar within me. "Yes. All of that sounds perfect. Maybe just add a general tso's chicken and that'll be good. That's my favorite."

"You got it."

"I'll be done in about five minutes. The old hose is almost off," he grunts as he exerts himself. "Forgive me for not being dainty for dinner."

I laugh, watching him reach his hand out for the new hose. "Please. I'm just in my comfy home clothes. You're fine."

"I'm a mess and I smell like old water. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Joel, please," I almost scold. "Yes, I want you to stay."

My eyes widen as I realize what I've just said. I've broken so many of my rules today, and I don't know what to make of it. I've let him in my house, let him drive me around, and now I'm insisting that he stays for dinner. What is this man doing to me?

Joel pops out from behind the washing machine a bit later, the Chinese food saying it'll arrive in twenty minutes. His white shirt is dampened on the side, causing it to be a bit see through. His body looks soft, but still in shape. I'm not even sure how old he is, but I know he has to be older than me by at least a few years since he has a daughter that's ten.

My eyes linger on his wet shirt. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you to change in to."

He shrugs with a smile. "If you don't mind, neither do I." His eyes look around as we leave the laundry room, making our way to the living room. "So, you live alone, I take it?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Being alone is one of my favorite things."

Joel chuckles. "Not me. I couldn't stand it if I didn't have Sarah. She's a blessing for many reasons."

I smile as I walk into my kitchen, bending down into my fridge to pull out an amber bottle. "Beer?"

He nods. "Didn't take you for a beer drinker."

"I keep them around for my dad, actually," I chuckle. "More of a wine drinker, if I'm honest."

Joel twists off the top and discards it on the counter, leaning against it as I take out my wine that I was drinking just last night, thinking of the man standing before me as I fell asleep.

"Where does your dad live?" he asks.

"Oh, about an hour from here. We see each other when we can since we both work like crazy."

He grins wide at me. "What does he do?"

"He works in a warehouse. I'm always worried he's going to hurt himself, but it keeps him in good shape."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. How old is he?"

"He's forty-five. My mom and him had me when they were both young."

Joel's brows furrow, seemingly wanting to say something upsetting, but it looks like he decides against it when his face changes. "Yeah, my wife and I had Sarah when I was twenty-five."

He's thirty-five?! God, he's still so young, but older than me by a decent amount. Why do I find that so attractive?

"You said your wife passed away," I begin cautiously, "how did she die?"

He gives me a soft, small smile. "Car accident. She was on her way to work and someone t-boned her on the driver's side going sixty miles an hour. They told me it was quick and she didn't feel anything."

My hand reaches out and grips his forearm. "God, Joel, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was nine years ago. I've come to terms with it and learned how to cope. It took a long time, but—" his voice trails off. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be depressing."

"No! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I suddenly move my hand, realizing that it was lingering against his skin.

"Y/n," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you can always ask me anything."

We stand there smiling at each other for a moment, the air feeling electrically charged between us. I take a sharp breath in as the doorbell ding rips me from my little daydreaming bubble, and I slightly jump before scurrying away to the front door.

The young girl hands me the food and I thank her as she leaves, gathering the bags in my hands and settling them down gently onto the coffee table.

"Not the dining room?" Joel asks with a slight chuckle.

I grab the remote and flip on the tv. "Thought we could do with some entertainment."

He leaves to go to the kitchen, returning with my wine and his beer, placing them on the table beside the food. "I'm good with anything."

Joel sits beside me on the couch, and I'm hyper-aware of how close he is. I pull out all of the food, quickly finishing the wine in my glass before I pour myself some more.

I turn on a random movie that's playing, not really knowing what it is. "Chopsticks?" I hand him a pair.

Joel takes them and breaks them apart, giving me a slight smirk. "Do you want me to grab a plate?"

"Only if you want them. I'm fine with just eating out of the containers. Doing dishes might be my least favorite thing to do."

He laughs loudly, his head cocked back. "For someone who doesn't like doing dishes, your house is extremely clean."

"Well, I'm a bit of a control freak, I guess. I'm lazy, but my brain doesn't let me be."

Joel chuckles, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. "Being a control freak probably comes from being a lawyer."

No, it's because I don't trust anybody and I must do everything that I can myself.

"Yeah," I lie, chuckling slightly.

I dig my chopsticks into the chicken, pushing the meat and broccoli between the thin wood before bringing it to my lips. I groan at the flavor, my stomach growling in delight.

"This is so good," I moan, nodding my head.

Joel takes a bite and rolls his eyes in enjoyment. "This is exactly what I needed. I usually eat dinner by now."

"Me, too. I was just too distracted with the washer. I'm sorry for dragging you out here."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to help. Please, stop apologizing. You don't ever have to apologize to me."

I swallow the dry lump of attraction that has formed in my throat, leaning forward to pour myself more wine, quickly downing the glass.

Joel laughs as he glances at me. "I guess today was really tough, then?"

No, being near you is next to impossible.

"Yes," I lie again, pouring myself another glass. "I'm glad you got your money back. I'm surprised he was so willing to give it back once he was caught. Most people would fight it."

He shrugs. "He's stupid."

I laugh, shoveling some rice into my mouth with a hand beneath the chopsticks to prevent any rice from falling onto the floor.

"Most men are," I blurt out.

Joel laughs. "I'd love to say you're wrong, but you're not."

I laugh with him, the alcohol lightening my anxieties. "You're not, though."

"Oh, that's not true," he chuckles. "I've done some really stupid stuff."

"Like what?"

He leans back slightly, wiping his mouth with one of the provided napkins. "When I was a teenager, probably about sixteen, I really wanted this girl to like me. So, I thought the cool thing would be to light fireworks off in front of her house. I swore she would think it was the most romantic gesture she's ever seen. Well, turns out that the tree she had in her front yard was incredibly flammable."

I gasp with my hand to my mouth. "Oh, my god!"

Joel nods with a vast grin. "Yup. Tree burned to the ground and she never spoke to me again. Damn thing nearly fell onto her house! I was lucky her parents didn't try to get me in trouble for that. They were furious, but they knew it wasn't my intention."

I laugh loudly, my head cocked back. "I can't believe that. That's hilarious!"

"She did not think so."

"I've never had anyone do something so crazy for me before." My laughter fades, flashing back to Justin and his friend cornering me in that unfamiliar room.

Quickly, I down more wine, my leg beginning to bounce again as I attempt to push away the negative memories that are replaying in my head. No, no, no. This can't happen now.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks, cutting me back to reality.

My body is trembling, and I'm doing my best to remain calm, but the terror in my mind won't stop. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n, you're shaking." Joel goes to reach out but I quickly retreat. "Was it something I said?"

"No!" my voice answers quickly. "No, Joel, you're fine."

He lets out a sharp sigh. "You're having a panic attack, I can tell. I had them all the time after my wife died. Talk to me, y/n. What's happening?"

"I can't tell you, Joel. It's—too much."

He backs away a bit as he nods. "Okay, how about I tell you another story about how I'm stupid?"

My eyes squeeze shut, nodding my head. "Tell me."

"When Sarah was born, I hadn't gotten much sleep that night before my wife went into labor because I was so nervous about being a dad. I hadn't been eating or sleeping well for a few days, actually. Anyway, she finally goes into labor and I'm wide awake, running through the house to collect all of her things and get her to the hospital. Well, when we get there, and she's finally having the baby, I faint."

I laugh, my heart rate beginning to settle. "You fainted?!"

"It wasn't the blood, the screams, or any of that. It's because I freaked myself out so bad that I couldn't sleep or eat! So, I basically missed my daughter's birth because I'm an idiot."

My lips quiver up. "You were scared to be a dad?"

"Oh, definitely," he nods, beginning to smile, "but once I held Sarah, I knew being a dad is what I'm meant to do with my life. I loved her from the second I saw her, and I still get that feeling every time I look at her. That girl has my whole heart with her."

My brows slant, emotion welling up in my chest that I force down. "Joel, you're an amazing dad. I can already tell that."

"Thanks," he laughs shyly. "I do my best. It's hard being two parents."

"My dad has been two parents from the time I was Sarah's age. He's everything to me, and I know you're everything to her, too. My dad got two jobs just to get me through law school, something he wanted but never had the money for."

"He sounds like an amazing man."

I nod with a small smile. "He is."

Joel's eyes flick to my legs, then back up to my gaze. "Your legs stopped bouncing. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I breathe out slowly. "Thank you, Joel."

He nods. "You're welcome." His eyes flick between mine. "Do you get those often?"

"Not super often, no. Just lately I've been having some triggers, I guess."

Joel frowns with furrowed brows. "What I always tried to do was just take deep breaths and distract my brain by watching something light. Have you tried that?"

I nod with a smirk. "Therapist recommended."

He chuckles. "Mine too."

"You helped a lot, honestly. My dad is the only one who was ever able to help talk me down from an episode."

Joel looks to me with those soft eyes, my living room light shining off the velvety brown of them. "That's a very nice compliment. I had to go through them completely alone. I only had my one year old daughter when they were at their worst. If you ever want to reach out when you're panicking, you can. You shouldn't have to go through them alone."

My gaze softens, those tears trying to make their way to the surface again but I shoo them away. "That means a lot, Joel. Thank you."

"You're welcome, y/n."

After the movie ends, and I'm tipsy from the wine, I lean onto Joel's shoulder, my eyes beginning to flutter closed. I feel calm in this moment beside him, and I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or just Joel.

"Y/n?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"It's getting late and I have to get back to Sarah. Will you be okay if I leave?"

I nod, lifting my head to look up at him. "Of course."

His eyes search mine, concern etched into them. "Promise me you'll call or text if you're panicking again. I don't want you going through them alone."

"You're sweet to care, Joel," I beam at him. "Thank you."

He grins as his slightly glares at me. "You didn't promise."

"That's because I can't. I don't open up or express my feelings to anybody, not even my dad."

Joel goes to touch my face, but stops himself. "I was that way too. I promise it's better to not face whatever you're going through alone."

With a steady hand, I grab his and place it on my cheek. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier. I'm embarrassed."

He tucks some hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. "No, don't be. I'm glad I was here to help."

I lean into his touch, my eyes closing a bit to savor the feeling of his skin on mine. When I open them, I see Joel gazing at me, giving me a look that I know is want. Normally it would completely freak me out, but the tipsy affect of the wine mixed with Joel's gentle aura have me feeling incredibly—safe.

"You can," I say softly, my eyes on his lips.

Joel cocks his head. "I can, what?"

"Kiss me. I can see that you want to."

He chuckles slightly, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. "Do you want me to?"

I nod. "Yes."

Joel slowly leans in, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest as he gently takes my lips against his. His mouth is gentle and eager, my own mouth parting to allow him to slip his tongue into it. He does exactly that, eliciting a quiet moan from my throat. He tastes of beer and Chinese food, mixed with his own unique flavor. It's intoxicating, making me feel more drunk on him than the wine.

My fingers go into his hair, gently tugging to control the kiss as our tongues swirl together. My body is alight with a passion I've never experienced, and there's an ache between my legs. Joel's right hand stays on my face, the other at the small of my back, pulling me in closer to him.

I part our lips and kiss his stubbly jaw, moving down to his neck and throat. He lets out a small groan of approval, the sound further arousing me.

"Y/n," he breathes out, stopping me in my tracks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but we should stop."

My lips come to a halt from his bobbing Adam's apple, moving my face into view of his. "You want to stop?"

He strokes my face, his gaze having a bit of heat to it. "I've thought you were beautiful since the moment I walked into your office, and I've wanted to kiss you all night. That being said, you drank a bit, and I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

I stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, the rate of my heart only increasing from the realization that Joel might actually be a good guy.

"I—" my voice trails off, "I can't believe you said that."

Joel cocks his head as he chuckles. "Why? Who the hell would take advantage of a drunk woman?"

"A lot of people."

"A lot of fucking creeps," he mutters. "It makes me a bit sad that you're impressed by the bare minimum from a man. Have you ever had a decent boyfriend?"

With tears filling my eyes, I shake my head. "No."

Joel's eyes soften as he pulls me in to a tight hug, my body weakening in his hold. He embraces me for a moment, the tears finally spilling over my lids and onto my cheeks. Is this the way men are supposed to treat women? Am I supposed to feel this safe and cherished? I barely know him, yet I feel like he'd go to war to protect me.

"Joel," I say through my sniffling.

He pulls away, swiping my tears away with his thumbs. "Yes, y/n?"

My shoulders sag as I let out a large sigh. "Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

Joel beams, nodding his head. "Definitely. This Saturday?"

I giggle, "I'd love to."

When Joel leaves, he gives me a soft, lingering kiss at the front door, smiling as I watch him walk away with his tool kit in his hand. My body stays leaning against the doorframe until he drives away, letting out a sigh of pure contentment.

I haven't felt this giddy since Justin and I first started dating, but the fuzzy feelings towards him were short-lived. We didn't date for very long before we slept together for the first time, and after that it was like something switched in him. I was upset that I gave him my virginity, but I trusted him when I did. It was probably about two weeks later when him and his friend took me to his house and had their way with me.

My eyes close as the vivid images of them come back, doing my best to shoo them from my mind. I'd like to be honest with Joel and tell him just how scared I am of being intimate with him, but I don't want to freak him out.

Maybe I will after our date this Saturday. I was more than ready and willing to jump his bones tonight, a feeling I never thought I'd get again. But Joel seems to be changing me, and though I'm terrified, I'm somehow also hopeful that it'll be okay with him.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 years

Text

Secret Birthday–Joe Keery

When you work on a big Hollywood set, things are crazy and constantly busy. There isn't much time to celebrate a CGI artist's birthday.

Being an only child, my parents always made a big deal about my birthday. Breakfast in bed, a shopping trip with my mom, visiting my dad for lunch, and a fancy dinner where we go to my favorite restaurant all dressed up.

When I went to college, I was so busy with school, projects, and work that I didn't have time to celebrate my birthday. My parents still tried to celebrate it though. They'd call me and wish me a happy birthday. My dad always sent me money to go to dinner and my mom always sent more money for to me go shopping. They'd make sure to send my gift the day before so I'd have something to open on my birthday.

Today, I had to work on my birthday and it really bothered my mom.

"I don't understand why you couldn't take the time off," she sighed into the phone.

"We're in the middle of the season," I chuckled.

"So? One day is not going to kill them." I heard my mom sigh before she added, "I feel bad that your father and I didn't come visit you. Now you're stuck at work all day."

"You came down last year," I tried to reassure her. "And besides, you and Dad live five and a half hours away. You can't drive down on a Tuesday to take me to dinner."

"But it's your birthday," Mom sighed.

I let out a small laugh. "Besides, I can't just take a day off because it's my birthday. The special effects we're working on are insanely difficult."

"At least tell me you're going to go to a fancy restaurant all dressed up."

"Going to a restaurant in a fancy dress by myself is kinda pathetic, don't you think?"

"What are the kids saying these days?" She asked with a giggle. "Treat yourself!"

"Mom!" I laughed. "Look, I will pick up some cupcakes from Albertsons on my way home."

"No," she said quickly. "I want you to go to a nice bakery and get yourself a whole cake! Splurge and get you an ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins."

"How about I get both?" I teased.

"I'll have Dad send some extra money to pay for them."

"You don't have to do that," I sighed. "I was kidding about the two cakes, Mom."

"Honey, my little girl is living in a big city by herself and doesn't have anyone to celebrate her birthday with. Of course we're sending you money."

"Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, sweetheart. Happy birthday."

"It's your birthday?"

I turned around to see Joe standing in my office doorway.

"It is," I said, slightly clearing my throat.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal," I shrugged.

"Y/N, we've been friends since season 1," Joe sighed as he walked in and sat on the edge of my desk. "How could I not know today was your birthday? You know when mine is."

"It's really not a big deal, Joe. I don't celebrate my birthday."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I'm an only child and my parents live in Arizona. With my birthday being on a Tuesday, my dad couldn't miss work just so they can take me to dinner. They can't drop everything and drive the five and a half hours."

"You don't go out with friends or. . . or a boyfriend?"

I wasn't sure why he paused before adding "boyfriend", but I shrugged.

"No one knows," I said, suddenly realizing how sad this sounded.

"Well," Joe hesitated, "why don't we all go out tonight?"

"No," I probably said too quickly. "It's really not necessary, Joe. I'm sure everyone wouldn't. . ."

"Wouldn't what?" He chuckled. "Want to go out dancing or to dinner? It would be fun. We could get dinner and I know a club that doesn't sell alcohol so the kids could come without it causing a problem."

"Joe," I cut him off. "We don't need to make a big deal out of this."

"You're my best friend, Y/N. I feel horrible that I've never celebrated it with you. Or even wondered about it. Wow, I'm a shitty friend."

"No, you're not," I said quickly. "You've been an amazing best friend, Joe. When I first moved here, I was scared and alone. You instantly became my friend. You don't realize this, but you saved me."

"How?" He asked with a cheeky smile slowly forming.

"Before I started working on Stranger Things, I was really depressed. I was new to the city. I was alone. And I was about to give up on my dream when you complimented my doodle at Starbucks. You got me the job that saved my career and saved me."

Joe smiled. He opened his mouth to say something but he was called to set. His face dropped but I sent him a reassuring smile.

"You should go," I said, nodding towards set. "They need Steve Harrington, Hawkins Best Babysitter."

"We're not done talking about this," he said trying to sound angry but it came off jokingly. I folded my arms over my chest, unable to calm the raging zoo in my stomach.

"How about this," he said slowly as he turned back toward me, "why don't I take you to a restaurant? We can even get all dressed up. That's what you and your parents would do, right?"

"We'll, us but. . ."

"Then it's settled! I'll pick you up a little before 6 tonight."

"Joe, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but you don't need to go out of your way," I sighed.

I wrapped my arms around myself, slightly starting to feel uncomfortable. Joe has been my best friend since the first day of Stranger Things. A little piece of me couldn't understand why he wanted to be my friend. And now, a bigger piece of me couldn't understand why he wanted to make such a big deal about my birthday.

"Y/N," he said with his smile that I could never say no to. "It's your birthday. We're going to dinner."

* * * * *

"I'm so happy you aren't sitting at home," Mom sighed almost dreamily.

As soon as I texted my mom that Joe and I were going to dinner, she called me. She's been talking to me about it the whole time I've been getting ready.

"It's just dinner," I stuttered nervously.

"I've always liked Joe," she giggled. "He's sweet and funny and cute."

"He's just a friend," I cut her off.

"Really?" Mom laughed. "Because with how you talk about him, it doesn't sound like it."

Before I could defend myself in a way that neither my mom nor I believed, there was a knock at the door.

"I gotta go, Mom. Joe's here."

"Yay!" She cheered. "Call me after your date and tell me everything!"

"It's not a date," I mumbled even though she had already hung up. I put my phone in my purse and fixed my dress. I shook off as many of the nerves as I could before answering the door.

"Hey, birthday girl," Joe smiled. "You ready? I found this new Italian restaurant not too far from set."

I smiled, my stomach doing crazy flips as Joe held out his arm for me. I could feel my face burning as I looped my arm through his. I felt like I was shaking as Joe led us down my driveway.

The ride to the restaurant wasn't full of conversation. We sat in a comfortable silence as the radio softly played. Once we parked, I started to open my door but Joe reached across me and closed it.

"What are you doing?" I chuckled.

"It's called chivalry," he smirked.

I laughed and started nervously chewing on my bottom lip as he got out of the car, walked around to my side, and opened the door for me. Before I could get out, he reached his hand out for me to take. I intertwined our hands and he helped me out of the car.

"Chivalry isn't dead," I teased.

We walked into the restaurant, the hostess's face brightening up.

"Oh my gosh!" She giggled.

An older male, who looked like her manager, walked over and cleared his throat. He leaned in and whispered something to her. Her face immediately dropped and she walked away.

"I apologize for that, Mr. Keery," the gentleman sighed. "I told my staff and told them you were coming. They were supposed to be on their best behavior."

"That's alright, Marcus," Joe smiled.

"Let me make sure your table is ready."

As he went into the back, I turned toward Joe. "I thought you said this place was new. Have you been here before?"

"The head chef, Louis, is a friend of my father's," Joe explained. "He just opened the place. I called him to see if we could get a table at short notice and he set everything up. He told me that he'd talk to the staff and make sure none of them made a big deal about us."

"You mean you," I smirked at him.

"I didn't want to have to worry about fans or pictures during your birthday dinner," he said, looking away. I squeezed his arm, making him look back at me.

"That's really sweet of you," I whispered as Marcus walked back.

"Right this way, you two."

* * * * *

The waiter had just brought our drinks when Joe broke the silence. "Okay," he sighed. "I have to know. Tonight we have been more awkward than we have been in our entire friendship. If you're really uncomfortable, I can take you home. I didn't mean to drag you here."

"You didn't drag me," I said with a small chuckle. "You convinced me."

"I don't know if that sounds any better," he joked half-heartedly.

"Joe," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "If I hadn't wanted to come, I wouldn't have. It's just. . ."

"What?" Joe asked as he reached over and grabbed my hand.

"I don't know," I stuttered, my voice dropping. "I can't be the only one. . . I mean, am I the only one who feels a little awkward?"

"No," Joe smiled as he readjusted his grip on my hand. "You aren't the only one. My entire drive to pick you up I kept wondering if this was a mistake."

"Really?"

"Really," he said gently. "I have to admit something to you, Y/N."

"Okay," I said softly.

"Ever since we've met, I've had. . . Well, I've been. . . I started to. . ." He looked up at me and suddenly got embarrassed. He let out a small laugh as he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I may or may not have a tiny or a gigantic crush on you," he admitted. I smiled when he started chewing his bottom lip as he waited for me to respond.

"Well," I said, clearing my throat as I looked down at our intertwined hands. "That's interesting because I may or may not have a tiny or gigantic crush on you too."

I blushed as Joe tried to stop himself from smiling. He opened his mouth to say something, but our waiter brought our entrees. We sent each other shy smiles as we started eating. A few minutes into our pasta, Joe reached across the table and grabbed my hand.

We spent the night talking about work, our families, and our lives before we met. By the end of the night, I felt closer to Joe than ever before. As we left the restaurant, Joe instantly took my hand and we walked to the car.

This time as we drove to my apartment, we continued our conversation. When we got to my apartment, I started to get out of the car but smiled when Joe got out too. I waited for him to open my door. As soon as I was out of the car, Joe grabbed my hand. We walked up to my door in silence.

I was about to unlock my door, but Joe pulled on my hand. The second I was facing him, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I instantly let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his neck as I kissed him back.

The kiss was gentle yet said so much. The butterflies in my stomach officially turned into a zoo as Joe and I kissed. We broke the kiss when neither one of us could breathe. I leaned back, looking into Joe's eyes as we caught our breaths. For some reason, I had the courage to ask a question I'd never asked a guy before.

"Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"

#joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joe keery POV #stranger things

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sabrinahawthorne · 4 months

Text

Let's go on a little archaeological journey.

Last September, I read this post by user @fantasyfantasygames (follow them if you haven't). The game in question intrigued me, and it stuck in the back of my head for a while.

Then, on a whim that October, I decided to ask a friend of mine about it, who's an old-head gamer since the 90's. She knows a lot about that era of design, and I can usually rely on her to have one or two stories about any title that came out between about 1993 and 2010.

While she hadn't heard of it herself, she came back to me a few days later letting me know that she'd asked around, and got me in contact with a friend of hers who it turns out had played it for part of a campaign in 2012.

This got my ears up. I'd initially asked out of idle curiosity, but suddenly I sensed an archival opportunity. I talked with the friend of a friend (let's call her Sunny, for the sake of anonymity), and before long I was bugging her about whether she might still have a copy buried somewhere. I was greeted with silence for the length of a full work day, before...

Nothing.

Apparently she had dug out the old laptop she'd been using at the time, opened a decade-old storage bin full of college papers and art projects, and had even called her parents, inquiring about any boxes of papers. Not a scrap about the game.

This all transpired between late october and about the week of Thanksgiving here in the US. I got final confirmation that Sunny had nothing on hand while visiting family, and I wrote it off. I had been hopeful, but I made my peace with it. Sometimes, history is lost.

That was, of course, until December 12th.

Sunny messaged me out of the blue.

She'd been cleaning out a spare room, and come across an old folder - inside which was a four page handout that she'd been given by her GM at the beginning of the campaign.

Holy shit.

This made my holiday - we spent the rest of december talking about the game; trying to remember details, discussing play, everything we could cover.

But that's not the end of the story.

At the beginning of this odyssey, I'd explained the Pen & Paper Archive to Sunny in passing, to explain my interest. I had never even thought to ask for any of her materials for myself - it just seemed rude, asking someone to give up a sentimental item for my sake.

But Sunny had the idea anyway. I got a package in the mail today, with her handout in it. I'm beyond thrilled.

Hopefully this week I'll have time to go to my local library and scan it. With Sunny's permission, I'm going to post it for free on my itch (with credit disclaimers, obviously). This is such a neat find. I can't wait to play it.

#fantasyfantasygames #unreality #tw unreality #fake game #the revolution

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your-sunny · 5 months

Note

here it is!! a full 1848 words :) hope it lives up to the hype :3

I first saw you when we sat next to each other in class. I’ve always been a shy person, most of the friends I’ve made already know someone else in my friend group. So it took me by surprise when you took an interest in me. I know you were just being nice, but when you introduced yourself I knew you were going to be my girl. We got closer over the semester, and you even invited me over to your apartment a few times to work on a project or to study for a test. I fell more and more in love with you the more time I spent with you, but I could tell you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to scare you off, so unfortunately I could only express my feelings for you in more secret ways. Sneaking a little card into your bag that says “I love you so much it hurts”. Putting in a mobile order for your coffee when I notice you going to Starbucks (under your name of course, I can tell you’re still not ready to accept my love just yet). Scaring away anyone else who shows interest in you so I can save you all for myself.

It was over Thanksgiving break that I had a realization. If I couldn’t get you to fall for me regularly, I would just have to make you fall for me. After that I started to plan the best way to make you love me as much as I love you. I remembered you saying you didn’t have the best family life, and how you really dreaded going home for the holidays. Using that, I was able to convince you to stay on campus later than the rest of your roommates. By this point you also trusted me enough to confide that you thought someone was stalking you, and you’d feel better if you weren’t alone.

Now I just had to figure out the best way to break you apart, so that I’d be able to mold you back together as my own. You’d mentioned how you enjoy smoking weed, and I said I’d get some alcohol even though we were both still underage. What better way to begin our break from college courses than relaxing in a way that just wasn’t feasible during the semester (at least not for honor students like us). I told you that I’d stay a little more sober, to make you feel safer from this “mysterious” stalker, and that you could just let yourself go for this one night. You’d gotten pretty cross-faded, but I had to make sure I didn’t mess up my only chance to make you mine. So I roofied your next drink and gave a toast. You didn’t notice I wasn’t actually taking my shot alongside you, and you certainly didn’t notice me picking you up as you blacked out.

I took you to your bedroom and laid you out on top of your neat sheets. You looked so cute, just laying there, so peaceful. I had to shake myself out of my reverie so that I could secure you before you woke up. You wouldn’t be awakening any time soon, but I needed to make sure everything went perfectly. Another sign that we were meant to be together were the posts of your bed. They were thick, perfect to tie you down to until you realized what I already knew, we were made for each other. I spread your limbs out so I could have easy access to all of your body, I wanted to be able to explore every inch of you. Next I had to gag your mouth. I hated to do that to you, but unfortunately I couldn’t take the chance that you might panic before I could show you my love.

Now that I had you positioned correctly, I could move on to pleasuring you. During some of our more risque conversations, after we’d finished studying and you got a little tipsy or high, you mentioned how sensitive your tits were. It was obviously meant as an off-handed comment to a friend, but it gave me an idea on how to convince you I was the only man for you. I taped little bullet vibes onto your nipples and turned them onto medium. I wanted to make you as aroused and sensitive as I could before you came to. Next I set a vibrator to rest on your clit, but this one I left on low. At that point I couldn’t help but take a taste of your pussy, the sight of it too tempting to pass up. You hadn’t worked up much arousal yet, but just the taste of you nearly drove me to madness. I had to take a second to calm myself, and then I started slowly rubbing the outside of your vagina. I knew it’d be some time still before you’d wake up, so I just gently stroked up and down your lips, swapping which arm I was using a couple times so that I didn’t wear one out too much. I started to hear some moans coming out of your mouth so I quickly moved up near your face. You were still unconscious, but it seemed my ministrations were doing a good job of getting you worked up. I took a bit of a chance, but I had to hear those moans straight from your mouth. I removed the gag, and hearing your sweet voice was the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced. You still weren’t waking up, so I took another chance and had my first kiss with you. You couldn’t kiss me back, and yet it was still the best kiss I’d ever had. Then I noticed your eyes shifting, a small sign that you would soon awaken.

It took a large amount of restraint to pull away and put the gag back on, but the thought of losing you was enough to make me break our kiss. As your eyes fluttered open, I reached back down to your cunt to find that you had become soaked. The continued stimulation of the vibrators had made you start to leak arousal. The alcohol, weed, and drugs had fogged up your brain, and all of the sensations you started to feel as you woke up didn’t do anything to help clear it. I slapped your face. Not too hard, just enough to help jump start your consciousness. The first thing you saw after coming to was my face. I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face, I was just so excited to finally be able to express my feelings for you. I saw the fear enter your eyes as you realized what was happening and rushed to reassure you. “Don’t worry baby. I know it’s frightening right now, but soon you’ll understand I’m just trying to help you realize we belong together.” This didn’t do anything to calm you and you started to struggle against the ropes holding your limbs. Seeing that I hadn’t done enough to convince you yet, I turned up each of the vibrators and started to suck on your nipples. I continued to rub the outer lips, but I also started to gently finger you as well. You had already gotten aroused enough that I could quickly add another finger and start to stretch you farther. When you became aware again your moans had stopped, but the increased stimulation began to force you to let out sounds of pleasure once again. Once I noticed this moved to be face-to-face with you once again. “See princess, I just want to make you feel good. If you stop struggling then I can start to make you feel even better,” I murmur.

Tears had started to roll down your cheeks and I quickly licked up the trails. Your face was too beautiful to be marred by such things. At this point I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled off my pants and boxers, revealing my rock hard cock. Your enticing body had gotten me stiff as a board and leaking pre from the tip. “Now I’m going to start making love to you, darling.” My loving tone and words were at odds with the rape that was occuring, and yet somehow they still felt appropriate. I replaced the vibe on your clit with my hand so that I could thrust into you more freely. With one smooth push, I fit the entirety of my cock into your snatch. I saw your eyes flutter once again, but this time it was because of the rush of pleasure you were feeling instead of your groggy state of mind. “That’s it princess. Let my cock push all those silly thoughts of resistance away.” My voice washed over you. The calm, smooth, and kind tenor mixed with your growing arousal, battling with the logical side of your mind saying that this is a bad thing.

I saw that I was starting to make progress, so I went back to your weak point. I pulled the vibes off from your nipples and left them untouched for a minute as I continued to make love to you. Then I took one in my mouth as I gently rolled the other between my fingers. The small period of sensory deprivation had left them extra sensitive, so this managed to bring another moan out of you. This time it was more long and drawn out, everything came together to push you over the edge into orgasm. As I felt the walls of your vagina start to clench around my cock, I pumped into you faster. I wanted us to orgasm together for our first time, bonding us together. The sensations from your pulsing cunt, and the knowledge that I was the one that gave you all this pleasure were just enough to set me off as well.

We orgasmed together and your cunt milked me for all it was worth. Your womb hungrily swallowed my semen until I was utterly spent. As we both came down from our highs, I shifted so that we were face-to-face once more. “I’m sorry that I hid my love for you for so long, but I couldn’t take the chance that I’d push you away. Can you forgive me darling?” I muttered. “I’m going to take off the gag now. Please don’t make me have to hurt you, I only want what’s best for you.” I held eye contact with and reached up to pull out the gag. Your eyes were still watery, tears building up but not falling. You weren’t able to say it out loud yet, but you did manage a small nod to show you accepted my love for you. Another smile broke out across my face, what a wonderful night this was. Content that I was able to show you how we were meant to be together, I removed your bindings. Then we laid together and fell asleep, my cock still resting inside you.

-🐉

Can I make out with you please

Seriously tho the fucking writing,,,the voice of the stalker and including shit from my blog. You also somehow included details about me I never posted on here that you somehow just guessed correctly lol.

I feel like I'm not expressing just how much I'm gushing about this. This is so fucking good and I'm literally so wet just from reading it.

#🐉 anon #ask sunny #r@pe fantasy #cnc cw #cnc kidnapping #fr33use #kidnapping cw

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contaminatedlamb · 1 year

Text

Paint ペイント -[tmnt2012] Leonardo x Fem!Reader

summary: To your limited knowledge, something is going on in the midst of New York City. From the Bronx, all the way down to Brooklyn, creatures are emerging from the woodworks to ease their claws into the lives of every inhabitant. From a sous chef who dreams of refining her artistic skills, an androgynous woman with a dark past and a violent soul, to a once lively mutant teenager who's grief has morphed him into a shell of his former self. Together, with the help of their friends, family members, and wary allies— the truth will be revealed. No matter what the cost. Who knew that it would all start with a bit of paint?

notes: posting my first ever fanfiction on tumblr! I hope you enjoy, this is a passion project of mine that I have been working on since 2019. Show some love if you can, and let me know what you think of it! This book is also cross posted on Ao3 and Wattpad. Currently being rewritten as we speak.

warnings: gore and blood.

(Accidentally added a poll and can’t remove it from my draft so here we are lol)

Chapter One - Nothing to see here, folks! Everything is Fine.

You woke up that morning dreading to take out the trash.

It was Friday, that dreaded day of the week. While many celebrated it as the last day before the relief of a weekend, it happened to be only miserable for you. It was the busiest day in Murakami's Japanese restaurant, with all the drunk college men stumbling into the little hole in the wall to harass the three employees, and its blind owner/head chef. They made a mess, per usual, figuring out how to break down the token driven vending machine, demolish the bathrooms, leave their tables in chaotic disarray; all while somehow leaving drunker than before... If that was even possible. You were convinced that it had to do with those 'water bottles' they carried, which you were sure were just filled to the brim with vodka. There were times, when you were busy moping up a spilt drink, dizzy from their boisterous noise and the fumes, that you hoped they choked on their 'water'.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only reason that you dreaded going to work. Every Friday was also the day where the garbage had reached unfathomable levels of toxicity and needed to be tossed into the dumpster for the workers to take it away the next morning. How was it that the small portion of the human race that came to the restaurant seemed to make the biggest, most disgusting mess possible? New York. Disgusting down to its very own garbage.

Black trash bags would pile up by the pounds against the back door, so much so that it may have become a safety concern and an entire health violation if you thought about it for too long. You were certain that some sort of mutant would sprout from the bags and squeak a pleasant hello~ towards your horrified face. And yet, that wouldn't even be the strangest thing you had seen happen during your almost two years living in Manhattan. You wished you were joking when you told the story about how you had once seen a grown man with a glorious beard dressed as a nun take on a costumed Elmo, who looked as if he discovered cocaine with those tech bros that cluttered the streets of the city. Only in Times Square at eleven at night did something like that happen— and it hadn't even been Halloween! The absurdity of it all meant that you couldn't help but begrudgingly be amused by the chaotic energy of New York City.

Now though, as you stood slouched over, your lower back pressed against the beige wall lined with awards and old pictures of simpler times, you glared with a burning ferocity at the trash bags. The trash bags which always seemed to come up with new scents and would send you to the bathroom to heave up the few crackers you had eaten for dinner. Those black plastic trash voids which oozed and dripped with weird discolored sludge that made the bags stick to the ground when you dragged them through the back door, leaving behind horrible slime trails in their path. Only once before in your life had you accomplished a feat of strength, and that was when you had jumped up from your chair to do one 'pull up' in P.E. at seven years old. You had been extremely proud of that loophole, and it was one of your most cherished memories, depressingly enough. That made this attempt of physical strength all the more difficult, in the end.

At this moment, glaring at the trash as if it had insulted your entire family, you were finally snapped out of the inner roasting that you had directed to the garbage— by being unceremoniously slapped in the face with a pair of neon latex gloves. You sighed loudly, closing your eyes to collect yourself before you, to put it in modern terms, cut a hoe. You bent over and snatched up the pair of yellow gloves with more rage than expected. Straightening, you met the grin of your friend, none other than Sukiyaki Ashika; the source of your constant suffering.

The young adult of Japanese and Pakistani descent leaned in the doorway which led to the kitchen, dark arms crossed over her flat chest, that same cheeky grin that she used against those teenage delivery boys plastered across her Asian based features. It was a weapon, paired with her psychedelic slanted red brown eyes, the sort you saw on vampire men in those terrible low budget movies. These weren't any different. They were real, and they were lovely. It felt at times that she would hypnotize you with her stare, so powerful were they. There were times where you couldn't hold her gaze, having to lose the staring contest by dropping your gaze to the ground.

"Make sure you put on them gloves, by the way." The teenager reminded you, tossing her Wolf cut bangs to the side, the back of her straight black hair cropped short. The bangs were wispy, perfect, flowing in the wind as if she were in a shampoo commercial. It was comical, and you wanted to stab it.

"Yeah— I remember what happened when you didn't wear them that one time." You snorted with a lopsided smile as you slid them both on, the latex snapping loudly against your skin as you raised your eyebrows. "How's your hands by the way?" You questioned, a grin growing across your face.

Yaki made a noise of annoyance as she looked over at the hallway between the kitchen and the main restaurant area, sniffing in distaste. "Its not my fault that the stuff in there stained my hands yellow." She grumbled, looking down at her hands with their splotches of light neon yellow blemished along her pecan brown palms.

"It's literally toxic." You noted, as you wrapped your hands around the tied knots of the black garbage bags, inhaling deeply as you attempted to lift them up. All that was obtained from that movement was a sore back and almost dislocating your wrists. You let out a groan through your clenched teeth, your shoulders shakily sagging.

Sukiyaki guffawed loudly, a grin growing on her lips as she curled a finger around a strand of her coarse hair to play with it. "Awe, babaaa." Cooed the woman, tilting her head to press against the doorway.

"Don't 'awe baba' me." You huffed back like the annoyed teenager you were, glaring at the bags filled with garbage that resembled you, kicking at the receptacle. "You're enjoying this." You huffed, dropping the bags, placing your gloved hands on your hips as you shot the bags another dirty look.

Yaki gave a half shrug coupled with her signature smile as she continued to watch in amusement at the train wreck starting before her. "Put 'cha back into it!" She called as you began to slowly roll each large trash bag across the linoleum floor and through the backdoor. You managed to shoot her a scowl over your shoulder as you began your process of piling all the bags outside the door. Finishing up, you pulled back one of the bags holding the backdoor open, allowing the heavy wooden door to fall shut against its doorway.

You listened for a moment as Yaki faintly sang All Star to herself through the closed door, as you began the long process of figuring out how exactly you were going to drag each humongous bag into the six feet tall dumpster bin. Your arms already shook with the effort, your tendons stretched out against your skin, as you tried your best not to fall over. You would've loved Sukiyaki to help you, or take over even, but you knew it was your turn. If you ended up asking, you knew what would follow. The teasing, the pokes in your sides, ruffling up your hair before she would finally submit and get the job done. Effortlessly tossing in the bags as if she were playing basketball, not a bead of sweat to be found, her hair perfect as always. It was annoying how perfect she was, and this time, you decided that you would put the garbage in its place without submitting yourself to the mortifying experience of asking Suki to help. At least you could try to hold onto a silver of dignity left in your body.

After loud fits of swearing, prayers to God, squealing as the bulging bag teetered back from the edge of the metal container and almost crushed you (if you hadn't ran off before it crashed to the floor) and, embarrassingly enough, a bit of frustrated tears being shed, you managed to shove a bag into the dumpster. Placing each on the edge and shoving them all inside with a loud grunt, you found yourself finding a rhythm. It did little to cheer you up as you felt the muscles in your arms beginning to complain. You were definitely going to blackmail Yaki into buying you some ice cream after your shift was finished— after all, it was the most your roommate could do to soften your pain.

"This is supposed to be your job." You grumbled to no one in particular, feeling the bead of sweat tickle the side of your temple as it slid. You dragged the last trash bag towards the dumpster bin, loudly (and explicitly) directing your frustration towards an imaginary Yaki. Fuming, cursing, you planned in your head, allowing your mouth to run wild. You could mess up her perfectly styled hair (though she would attack your hair then too, and it looked bad enough as it did after a long hot day of work), you could hide her earbuds in her locker (but then she would talk your ear off in the subway home), or, you could smack her with your broom. The broom smacking seemed the easiest, the most surprising, and frankly, the funnie—

Something squeaked back in response.

Your head swiveled around, your fingers gripping the trash bag as it teetered on the edge of the dumpster (dangerously so, as you dug your heels into the ground), your eyes wide, shoulders aching and nostrils flaring. The rats in New York City were as large as an alley cat, and you were not prepared to catch the bubonic plague from one of those buggers. You were pretty sure you had been vaccinated against rabies as a child, but a quick trip to the hospital to confirm that was not something you looked forward to. Either way, the thought of a rat sinking its dagger like teeth into your ankle did not sound fun.

Your eyes scanned the dark narrow alleyway, listening closely to hundreds of flashing cars zooming by on nearby streets, their horns blaring in the distance. Your pupils dilated and adjusted to the shadows cast by the towering buildings surrounding the alleyway, making sense of the shapes along the walls. Garbage bins, loose trash, scattered needles, rotting garbage bags from the business in the next building, cardboard boxes. Nothing. Nothing suspicious at all. Your knuckles turned a shade paler as you held onto the trash bag for dear life, turning towards the giant receptacle, finally releasing as it hit against the bottom of the bin with a loud thud.

Another squeak echoed in the alley as you brought your hands abruptly to your chest, ("protecting your innocent little heart now, baba?" You heard sukiyaki's voice tease you in your mind), your eyes falling towards a pile of trash bags against the opposite wall. Your heart thudded angrily against your chest. It felt as if it wanted to crawl up your throat and escape, running. You wanted to run, but your feet were glued to the asphalt. You cautiously reached for the rickety broom that was propped against the wall, right next to the garbage bin. Isidore must've been here recently, brushing the loose vegetables out into the street to be run over or stolen by the rats. Your fingers curled around the cool blue plastic, your sweaty palms squelching against the material. You were ready to slap any demon rat that came anywhere near you.

You gripped the plastic broom tightly with both hands, watching closely as one of the trash bags began to vibrate. Yes, vibrate; as if it were a ringing phone laid against a glass tabletop. You gulped, shuddering violently, as you began to take delicate steps toward towards the bag.

I'd rather it be a mutant than a freaking rat,— you hoped in your mind. At least mutants didn't try to bite... Right?

A gasp ripped from your mouth as a circular white face popped out with a rat-like squeak from a chewed up hole through the material of the plastic trash bag. There was the sound that you had been hearing all along. It belonged to a 2-D face with two white skinny stick arms stabbing into the bag as it wiggled out its beanpole of a body from the hole inside the trash bag. A drawn stick figure, about the size of your hand. It looked like it had been cut out of paper by a child, the edges showing pencil marks where the shape had been carefully drawn. It leapt out of the bag to perch itself onto the black bulging trash bag, sticking its face forward. Staring. Staring at you.

You didn't realize your mouth was hanging open until a fly smacked against your upper lip and ricocheted away. You spluttered, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth as you took a step backwards. Big mistake. The abrupt noise and sudden movement startled the stick figure. It arched its back, on all four nubby sticks (like a cat, you thought numbly in amusement), hissing at you even though it had no visible mouth. The noise that it emitted was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

You stared at it. This was... unreal. A stick figure, (or a cut out figure?) coming to life, hissing at you like an angry pigeon. Did pigeons even hiss? You couldn't recall, you were just frozen. In utter shock.

...Were you high? Okay, yeah, sure, it was probably those delivery boys, their fault at is, smoking weed freely whenever they dropped off their shipments of vegetables, frozen fish and meat, including the occasional ice cream. At least you hoped; it would certainly make more sense than the stickie in front of you. Obviously, you had inhaled some second-hand-devils-lettuce smoke and now you were high as a kite, imagining a two year old's drawing cut out of a stick figure aggressively arching its back in and out at you as if it were performing some sort of mating dance.

The stick figure hissed once more and you finally noticed a hole appearing on his face, (because of course you assumed it was a male), and tiny paper like sharpened teeth baring at you.

Yeah, no.

You swiftly swung the head of the broom, bristles and all, at the sentient stick figure, slapping the surprisingly light thing in the torso and sending it flying. A loud squeal escaped its empty mouth as it sailed across the alley wall (you stared, mesmerized, wondering how paper could hold such weight), and tumbled onto the sidewalk. It scrambled to its feet, sickly yellow light from the street lamps throwing shadows against its flat white skin. It stared. And stared. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it hissed once more at you and scurried off. The sound of its flat feet scratching lightly against the ground quickly faded away.

You stood there, sucking and exhaling rapid breaths. You stared at the place where, just moments before, a living drawing had stood.

After a few minutes, you had successfully convinced yourself that none of it had been real, or had even occurred. It was the toxic fumes from the garbage bags, mingling with remnants of the evil weed as your mother called it. It had come together to corrupt your brain and had made you hallucinate for a few minutes— that was all. It was something psychological that you were sure could be explained through a quick google search. You really had to make sure you wore a gas mask next time you took out the trash. That was a joke, but it barely amused you. Maybe it would make Sukiyaki laugh, if she didn't start cackling at your story of weed, poisonous fumes, and stick figures coming out to attack you.

You spent a few spare moments gingerly poking the hole riddled trash bag with the end of your broom, (letting out a gasp when something inside it fell over, causing you to jump), before shaking off that nagging feeling scratching the back of your mind. Everything was a-okay, perfect, absolutely fine... everything was fine.

You cleared your throat, turning swiftly on the soles of your stained beat up, formerly white sneakers, twirling the broom lazily in your free hand. Around and around, you twirled, as if you were trying to mimic the actions of a Jedi. Your heart had calmed down from the mini heart attack it just had, as you wiped your free shaking sweaty palm on your stained light blue jeans. You walked back towards the backdoor, a trembling hum resonating in your throat, dragging your shoes against the dirty concrete floor of the alleyway. Everything was just fine.

You felt the ground tremble before you heard it. The sound of feet hitting the ground behind you, slapping against the ground clumsily, a small grunt following it. Softly, albeit messily, but gently enough that you wouldn't had even noticed. If it hadn't been for the hand that grabbed your shoulder.

A shrill shriek escaped your lips as you swung around the broom (really, this had become second nature after what you had just gone through) spinning around to beat the person who had grabbed you. Grabbed you! This was New York City after all, it was late, and hadn't there been reports of mutants, gangs, and weird looking alien robots in this area as well? You were not the type of person to willingly go if you were kidnapped or, god forbid, harassed. If it came to it, the good Lord had given you two dirty hands for wielding whatever was available. Which happened to be a cheap, held-together-by-prayers-and-duct-tape-broom. Put together, you were the shining representative of all pathetic, weak, easily scared girls worldwide.

Unfortunately, before your weapon of choice could loudly thwack against the face of your adversary, the broom was gripped tightly in a shaking bandaged three fingered hand.

You were face to face with a creature.

You were both breathing heavily in sync. This thing, this animal, was injured and heaving in rhythm with you. How rude!

In the dim yellow light emitted from the streets that dragged into the alleyway, he was red— no, he was green, covered in red. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hide the fact that you were beginning to hyperventilate at the pure shock of this mes— wait; was that a panic attack you felt coming on? You hadn't had one in weeks!

He was taller than you, that much you could tell as you stared into his eyes. You were caught in his piercing gaze, your eyes only being able to flicker around before being dragged back into this stare. He appeared to be brawny in his physique, though you on the contrary seemed as breakable as a twig. A huge gash ran across his green face as you, for the first time, noticed a blue mask around his neck that was soaked with... blood. Torn up bandages swayed limply from his elbows, shoulders and hands, with a few knee pads barely holding on. His left shoulder leaked blood through a large open gash that didn't seem to relent with its flow. His right eye was reddened and beginning to swell shut, the other a piercing blue that seemed wrong belonging to a thing like him. Your eyes trailed to his back, oh hello there shell, where large multi colored gashes peeked at her, contrasting against the brown. The streaks seemed as if they were made out of… paint.

Your attention was pulled away as remembered the broom you were gripping with both of your hands, his three fingered hand holding the other side, his own grip in between your hands. You let go, stumbling backwards, your arms outstretched into a t-pose as you stared wide eyed in silence. Whattt was happening? What was this? Why was this? Why? Why?!

A noise that sounded like a pigeon choking on a piece of hot dog meat escaped your parted lips as you pointed at his face. The thing. The turtle. The mutant. With eyes you had only seen before in cliché anime gif's that you would usually spam to your former nanny to confuse her.

He stood there, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, mimicking the exact expressions that you were experiencing too. He clutched the broom in one hand, his arm falling limply to the side. His grip on the pole was tight, so tight that his knuckles turned white. His hand began to shake. His grip loosened. The broom clattered to the ground. The shaking in his hands didn't stop there. It only spread, up his arms, down to his knees; his entire body seemed to be having a shaking fit. You realized, late as it was, that it was probably the buckets of blood covering him, (hey-o! blood loss!).

You took a small step forward.

"Um..." You cleared your throat, embarrassingly loud as it echoed throughout the alley, trying to draw his attention. He was staring straight ahead, his gaze empty and in some far off place other then the present. "My, my guy." You said, unsure of yourself as you scrunched up your nose at the stupid words spilling out of your mouth. You held out one hand tentatively, eyebrows knitted in concern as you licked your very dry, very salty lips. "Are you... good?"

The mutant hesitantly shrugged, his one working eye squinting and shining in the sickly yellow light. "No." His hoarse voice squeezed out, barely a whisper as it echoed along the dense towering concrete walls of the alleyway. With that one word, he collapsed in on himself, like a soda can being crushed between two hands.

You stared at the pile of blue, green, brown, beige, yellow, purple, and red before you and inhaled deeply. You gazed upon your familiar surroundings, calm as ever, and clasped your gloved hands together. "God..." You declared quite loudly, as if you were confessing to the Lord himself. "I'm high." And with those cheerful words, still trying to convince yourself that this was all a hallucination you turned on the heels of your white sneakers, opened the door, and walked inside. Humming a loud tune, the door shut closed behind you, ringing throughout the alley, out into the empty street.

A squeak rang out from a familiar hole riddled trash bag.

Everything was fine.

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