#what if they upload 3 hours early

[ferahntics]

Nana's 1st birthday...

[wednesdaynn]

birthday special

A/N: HI! omg it's my birthday and i thought i'd write a little special something from myself to you, as i'll be spending my birthday alone. So here is a little special poly!marauders smutty fic to make myself happy and not dread this awful day.

i also got a cake with the faces of multiple celebrities i love, including the OG fancasts... so

not edited, not even double checked or rewritten, i did this in 3 days and expected it to only be around 2000 words, so it might be awfull, dont blame me

This is also uploaded 9 hours after scheduled time but shhh

word count: 4388

warnings: reader who feels left out and sad on her birthday/ foursome, oral sex, penatrative sex, awkward positions and understanding lovers, dirty talk, slight overwhelming feelings so a bit of crying.

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

It's eerily quiet in the great hall. lunch time had just passed and most of the students were spending their time outside in the great fields outside of the castle. Spring break was coming to an end and most of ‘em filled their last couple of free days soaking up the sunlight outside, a rare occurrence in scotland. except for your friends, who had been all over the place since that morning. you suppose you had been slightly jealous towards them. Every time it was someone's birthday they made sure to plan something that would interest the birthday person. 

For Lily's birthday, you had spent the evening outside after dark playing in the snow and staying up all night in the boys dorm, drinking wine and gossiping. Remus' birthday was perfect, it had fallen on a sunday, giving you guys the entire day to do nothing except to annoy Remus, plan pranks and sneak into the kitchen to eat until you guys couldn’t . For james’ you guys had planned an entire party that lasted through all the night. 

But this morning you woke up to everyone rushing around. You had thought that because it was spring break there would be a lot of time to hang out with the lot, but to your surprise, you got a kiss on the cheek from your girl friends, and your boyfriends had to get up for quidditch practice early and stayed until lunch. They wished you a happy birthday and let you unpack your presents at the breakfast table. but the celebrations were soon pushed aside for more important tasks, such as studying. 

since breakfast you hadn’t seen anyone, the first hour after breakfast spent in the common room reading a book, you had soon grown bored. you went to the library to study but found it to be too crowded with most of the students cramming for their latest exams. the hot weather tearing them down. and right before lunch you headed outside to join Hagrid in feeding the latest creature he had brought home with him. both of you working in silence. 

But lunch rolled around and you hadn't seen any of your friends. When you walked into the great hall, your boyfriends were just on their way to return to the dorms to take a long awaited shower, while Remus and Peter joined them to finish the last part of their essay. 

And you know there was an open invitation to join them. they always made sure to let you know you are welcome there, even Peter had let you know he enjoys your company, more than the boys he had said. but you didn’t want to intrude on their tasks. you already felt like you were overreacting and the boys knew you too well. you knew they’d worry about you and set their own things aside to make sure you’re okay, but you didn’t want them to do that, feeling like a burden. 

you push yourself up from the table and swing your legs over the bench. with no idea what to do the rest of the day you make your way back up to your room, checking the last couple of assignments off of your to-do list, watering the plants, stoking the fire in the room when the evening chill started to roll around and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. you had picked up your book again, but to no avail. you were bored, extremely. and you don’t hold it against your friends, knowing that they have things to do as well since classes are starting soon again. but you had spent the entire spring break hanging out almost every day, and the one day that was important to you, they couldn’t. 

you felt left behind. turning around one more time on your bed, you let out a sigh of annoyance. Another birthday spent doing nothing, another birthday spent alone, another birthday spent depressed. you had learned your lesson the past couple of years not expecting much. but it was your last year at Hogwarts, your last year spent with friends. you had hoped this year would be different. not a quick ‘happy birthday, and we’ll see you again tonight when we are already half asleep.’ 

Was it unfair to think that way? yes, but you couldn’t care at the moment. you were feeling lonely and bored. but you picked yourself up enough to at least head  to dinner, where you were greeted with all of your friends sitting together, laughing and having fun. you walked over to Remus and sat beside him quietly, giving him a tight lipped smile while he kissed you on your temple and put his hand on your thigh. 

The entirety of dinner had been spent in silence while your friends talked. they had tried to get you to join the conversation, but your energy had been drained from the constant worrying the entire day. the hand on your thigh had left when Remus had to start eating, but the second he was done it was around your waist pulling you in closer.

"You wanna talk?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath a comfort on your neck. you looked up at him and shook your head softly with a thin smile, not quite reaching your eyes. the thumb on your waist moves ever so slightly, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. Remus hymned and turned back to his friends, his hand not leaving your side. 

When they finished with their meal, Remus slid his arm back and grabbed your hand to bring you along with him. you walked along with your friends, every so often listening in on their conversation. you followed them up onto the moving stairs but only raised your head when you passed the door to the gryffindor common room. Remus let out a soft chuckle, his grip on your hand getting tighter. you walked after him as he dragged you up more and more stairs.

entering the top corridor the girls giggle as they open up one of the doors to an empty classroom, and Peter walks up to you, circling around until he puts his hands in front of your eyes and covers them. you let out an annoyed sigh, but smile nonetheless. Remus leads your hand further into the room where he leaves you waiting.

you tap your foot impatiently and Peter clicks his tongue in response. you hear slight rustling in the background and Marlene and Sirius whispering, although it’s louder than they probably intend to, seeing as they are bickering about godric knows what. but the noises slowly die down and someone is back at your side again holding onto your right hand. 

Peter slowly slid his hands away from your face and in front of you laid a couple of blankets with candles and a bunch of food and drinks on the floor. the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side. you look to your right seeing James and squeezing onto his hand tighter, giving him a grateful smile. He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your waist, pulling you into him. 

your eyes stare in awe at the scene in front of you. your friends standing around you with a happy smile. Mary shakes out her hands and squeals and before she can contain herself, she runs over to you and envelopes both you and James in a tight hug. 

“didn’t think we’d forget now, huh love?” you shake your head and she pulls back from your embrace holding your face in her hands. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” you give her a sweet smile and they both release, just far enough for your other friends to congratulate you. 

pulling back from all the hugs, you all make your way down to the middle of the room, filled with sweets. sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from your friends, squished between your boyfriends, you felt slightly guilty.

you couldn’t believe you thought they were capable of forgetting, or just not wanting to celebrate your birthday. or thinking they didn’t know you well enough to know how you wanted to spend your birthday. you silently scold yourself on your mistrust towards your boys and try to focus back on the scene in front of you. 

you lean into James’ embrace next to you while he puts his arm around your shoulder and try to relax into it as much as possible. “Thank you, darling,” you whisper to him. “I love it.” he just winks and holds you tighter. 

The night carries on with lots of laughter while you stuff your mouths with a bunch of food and the alcohol, which you can only assume Sirius and Mary took care of. it was getting late and everyone was relatively tipsy, you all decided it was best to head up back to bed. standing up from Sirius’ lap, all of you stumbled your way back down all the stairs and into the common room, getting dirty looks from the paintings. He held onto your waist tightly as you walked up towards the boys’ dormitory. 

taking off your shoes next to the door, you walk over to the fireplace in the centre of the room, stoking the fire with a spell, instantly warming the room. You watch as you see your boys make their way over to the bathroom individually. Coming out with pyjamas and brushed teeth, the padding of their socked feet towards their beds. You quickly ascend to the bathroom yourself, the stressful day had made you quite tired, and the slight state of drunkenness you were in didn’t help either. 

You quickly took off your makeup and brushed out your hair and teeth. Getting out of your clothes and putting on your pyjamas. You lean your head down and take a sip of water from the faucet and make your way back to their dormitory. Getting into Remus' bed you sit cross legged on the cover. 

“I’m sorry if i acted odd tonight, i loved what you guys did for me, honestly. It was the best birthday.” you say softly. Sirius's face contorts into one of confusion and he cocks his head up towards you. “What are you talking about, love?” James crosses over from his bed to yours and leans against the bedpost, his arms crossed on his chest. 

“You were fine sweetheart, but if something is bothering you, you know you can always talk about it with us right?” you nod and give James a soft smile. Remus pats your thigh. 

“Come’ere.”  you climb up higher on the bed and throw your leg over his lap, making eye contact with your lover. He gives you a soft peck on your forehead and his thumb draws circles into your waist. You feel a dip in the mattress behind you and feel Sirius his hand brush the hair away from your neck and shoulder, leaving soft peck along the neckline of your pyjama shirt. You lean into their embrace and let out a soft sigh.

You see James get on the bed on the other side of you and look over at him. “You want us to take care of you? Or do you just want to cuddle until we fall asleep?” you’re already letting go of your inhibitions while in the hold of your boyfriends, and you know they will take care of you. 

“Take care of me please.” you let out softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes. He gives you an adorning smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

Remus his hands slowly slip under your shirt, rubbing the skin underneath. He spreads his hands across your back, “lean back for me sweetheart.” Sirius whispers in your ear as his lips ghost across your jawline. You look at Remus and he nods at you, he holds you as you lean back into Sirius his arms, your shoulders resting on his chest. 

Sirius his hands move down towards the hem of your shirt and slowly inches it upwards. His knuckles grazing your skin, leaving behind goosebumps as his cold hands touch you. He moves until he reached the underside of your boobs. 

“Can i, love?” you nod as best as you can. He lifts the shirt over your breasts and skims his hands over them, brushing along your nipples and pinching them slightly. You let out a soft sigh at the contact and look away from his movements and make eye contact with Remus who winks at you. He gestures over at James to get closer and you feel James moving on the bed as he leans down on your level.

He softly brushes some stray hairs away from your face and leans in closer kissing your lips softly. You fully let go in the embrace of your lovers doting on you and your body. The kiss quickly turns a lot more fierce and you realise in this position both of your bodies have to contort to kiss properly, so James makes his way down your body, jaw, neck, clavicle bones, and just under your shirt where Sirius pulls his hands away to give James free reign to pleasure you. 

James leaves wet kisses all on your breast, and soft bites around your nipples leaving slight marks all over your chest. He finally wraps his lips around your left nipple and sucks lightly. You let out a moan at his administration and he groans around your nipples, heat flows down your body. 

Sweat starts to form on your forehead and you notice how much of a strain your body is being put on being in this position. You move your hand to tug on Remus' arms.

“You like how he’s making you feel darling?” you nod but a slight grimace pulls at your face. “This position, baby, it’s slightly uncomfortable, I'm sorry.” you apologise to them. Sirius tuts behind you and moves his hands behind your shoulder blades to give you some elevation to get up properly. 

Being sat back on Remus' lap, he slowly lifts you up from off of his lap and moves you next to him on the bed, the spot James was previously occupying. Sitting up on the bed you roll your shoulder around, letting the tight spots ease. You remove your shirt entirely from your body and Sirius softly pushes at your sternum, easing you onto your back, your head resting on the pillows. 

James resumes his former position, leaning over you and softly kissing your chest and upwards, now finally having the space to kiss your neck and leave marks all over. Sirius, who is still sitting between your legs, ghosts his hands across your stomach and reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath the band and glides them across your waist, teasing you. 

You panting beneath them, wishing they would just do more. Having 3 boyfriends and still not getting where you need them seems pathetic, but Remus just finds your frustrations comical and sweet. He puts his hand on your forehead and strokes the top of your head. 

Sirius his hands finally make their way down when he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, helping you lift your hips and pulling them all the way down your legs and throwing them next to the bed. You have half a mind to tell him it’s gross to leave clothes lying on the floor, but James his lips are back on your nipples and thinking straight with them is just too difficult. 

He brushes his hands on your calves, massaging them and pushing them up, leaving your knees bent. You feel Remus’ hands skim across your stomach downwards, a ghost of a touch on your mound leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Please, Rem?” with the comforting touch of Sirius’ hands on your calves, soothing you into a deeper rest, you can’t help but beg for Remus to touch you. 

“Since it’s your birthday, sweetheart, I'll go easy on you.” His voice sounds rough, but he complies immediately. His middle finger and ring finger skim over your slit collecting wetness from your core and he circles your clit with them. You whine, the touch of James his lips and teeth on your nipple and Remus his light circular movements on your bundle of nerves, makes you set alight. 

They’re barely doing anything, but it’s making you let out all sorts of noises you’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, but for now you couldn’t care, knowing it only eggs your partners on further. 

Remus his fingers slowly move down to your hole circling it, teasing it, before finally pushing on finger in slowly. He eases it into you, taking his time, moving it in and out slowly. He watches your face intently. Making sure to catch any noise you let out, and face you make and any sign of unease. He sees your hands grab onto the blanket and takes it as his queue to add a second finger. 

No matter how many times the four of you have sex, the stretch never gets any easier. You scrunch your face up slightly. “Am i good to continue, or do you need a second?” he asks, and you have half a mind to tell him to shut up and continue, but you find it so endearing how caring he still is. “You’re good to continue, baby, was just a pinch.” he nods and continues pushing into you, but this time at a much slower pace, taking extra caution. 

Once he feels you’re rightly accommodated to the stretch, he starts pumping in slowly again. Taking his time dragging his fingers against your walls, your pussy quivering around his fingers. You feel every drag with his slow pace, the way he barely misses your g-spot. 

Your hand curls around his wrist and he gives you a smirk. “You want more, baby?” he hymns at you.  You just nod to the best of your ability. He increases his pace, only ever so slightly making you whine. You liked when he teased, but it was god damn frustrating. 

Your nails scratch at his wrist and pull at his hand hoping to speed it up even more, but Remus is relentless in giving you what you want. He makes a tsks noise, hoping to tell you off, but he sees the desperate look on your face and he almost gives in.

“Be good for me baby, and you’ll get what you want.” you nodded fervently at him. James leaves a peck on your cheek and makes his way over to your lips, kissing you with renowned vigour. Tongue sliding in your mouth. 

You feel the butterflies in your stomach making rounds at the slow pace, not enough to make you cum, but it leaves you teetering on the edge. Sirius moves closer to you, your legs on either side of his hips. He slowly takes off his shirt, making it a show for you. He leans down to give a kiss on your knee and pushes himself down onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in between you. 

Remus makes a move to take his fingers out of you, but the hand that’s on his wrist holds him there. 

“Sweetheart, let go, Sirius wants to make you feel good, don’t you wanna cum?” he asks in such an endearing voice. You moan into James’ mouth and he takes it as a queue to lean back and observe. You whine for him, wanting to feel the taste of his lips back on your once more, but he just gives you a sympathetic smile and mouths an apology at you. 

Sirius begins by slowly kissing up and down the inside of your thigh. He sucks onto the skin leaving marks behind, maroons and reds splotched all over your legs, small indentations of bite marks etched into your skin. He kisses the juncture between your thigh and mound and puts his thumbs onto your vulva.

His thumbs spread your lips apart and he lets out a groan at the sight, wetness covering your entire pussy, your hole quivering from the need to cum. You feel a warmth spread over your face all the way down to your chest. He latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly. 

“Holy fuck.” he hums around your bundle of nerves making electricity shoot up. He agrees with your sentiment. You were on edge form cumming the whole time Remus was fingering you, and this just shoots you right over the edge. Your hands make their way downwards, grabbing onto Sirius his long hair and pulling, hard. He lets out a moan at the roughness and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You give a short warning before your orgasm takes full control. You scratch at his scalp as you pull, as Sirius pulls you through the afterwaves of your orgasm. You feel your chest going up and down, heaving. 

Sirius gives a loving pat on your inner thigh before moving up again, and getting off of the bed, standing next to James on the left side of the bed. You look over at them and you feel Remus, who is still sitting beside you on the bed, take your hand and grab onto it. 

James scurries out of his clothes, first his shirt, revealing his toned chest from quidditch. Then his pyjama pants. You see Sirius next to him gulp as James’ cock springs up. James his face contorts into a look of proudness. A smirk plastered onto his face. He resumes his movements and gets onto the bed taking Sirius his former position between your legs. He spits onto the palm of his hand and strokes his cock slowly. 

“You ready, doll?” he asks you before inching closer. You let out a soft please and he strokes his cock up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness before slowly pressing into you. He inches in closer and closer, taking his time with you, letting you get adjusted to the stretch of his cock. 

You breathe in deeply, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Taking the time to enjoy the moment and feel the intimacy with your lovers. Remus who is feeling up your breasts, encompassing them with his hands and squeezing them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his thumb. 

Sirius is still by your side, holding your hand and stroking his thumb up and comforting you. His other hand pushing away fly hairs and stroking your head, creating a soft moment between you both. Looking up at him, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes and he gives you a sweet smile. 

James’ hands rest on your waist, pressing into the skin there, you know he’s trying to hold himself back, but he’s trying to be considerate, your sweet boy. 

“It’s okay James, please.” you give him an encouraging nod and he stares at you for a while, trying to see if you are truly okay. Finding no resistance, he pushes further in almost bottoming out inside of you. He inches out slowly and pushes back in with careful intention, making sure to make you feel every drag slide against your walls. Hearing the lewd sounds the two of you make, feeling your hole contract around him. 

You both let out a sigh of relief at the sensation followed by a deep moan. He makes sure to hit you deep and slowly, dragging the sensations out. All that you feel, everything you feel coursing through your body is love. Undevoted love. Enveloped by your boyfriends, taking care of you in the way that you need. 

It encompasses your very being and you feel yourself tune out everything around you except for the feeling of safety, the pleasure of their comfort. Peace. You know they see it, see how you’re feeling, or maybe they even feel it themselves, because Sirius is squeezing tighter around your hand and Remus gives intentional soft strokes around your breast. It makes you want to cry and release every emotion you’ve felt for a while. Wanting to cry out in pure ecstasy. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us.” Remus tells you and you let a single tear drop when you squeeze your eyes shut. A silent ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth and your eyebrows scrunch together. They just hold you closer.

James picks up his pace slightly, his thumb moving to your clit, rolling circles on it with the pad of his finger, increasing the pleasure that shoots through your body. 

He digs his knees deeper into the mattress, laying the top of his feet flat on the bed and shifting his hips just ever so slightly, lowering them closer to the bed and his cock drags against your walls deliciously. 

James feels all his nerves being set on fire, feeling the tightening of your walls around him, the wetness making it so easy to glide in, and he feels the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you. Making you keen,

You lean your head back, releasing a loud moan. Your eyes shoot open and you grab at the bedsheet. Curling your toes and enclosing your thighs around James’ hips. You feel the familiar flare in the bottom of your stomach, the butterflies fluttering around. 

“Baby? Babes, I'm gonna cum, please.” you beg of James and he keeps repeatedly hitting your g-spot, keeping up the pace as before and tightening the circles he makes around your clit. He lets out a high pitched whine and looks down at where your bodies are connected, seeing your arousal around his cock, your hole pulsing around him. The stickiness on his thumb. 

Your breath hitches, Remus pinches your nipple, Sirius gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and the soft strokes of James gives you everything you need to orgasm again. You squeeze tightly around James his cock and James hisses at the constriction, cumming just after you. He pumps in just a little bit longer, riding out both of your orgasms, until both of you become too sensitive. 

“You did so well darling, so beautiful for us, happy birthday baby.” 

(Down below my bday cake cuz y’all need to see it)

[freckliedan]

Wait you reblogged something about dnp getting outed before the height of the careers? Did I miss something lol when were they outed

oh my god. i love that this is not something everyone knows anymore. but it's also absolutely fucking insane to me that this knowledge could potentially be lost. it's the biggest piece of context necessary for understanding them.

they were outed in 2011 on a smaller scale and again in 2012 on a massive scale, both times by the same video.

on september 17th of 2011 there was a platform wide glitch on youtube where, at random, a bunch of videos that had been uploaded and listed as private were suddenly unprivatized.

one of the videos that was unprivatized was a deeply earnest private message to dan that phil uploaded on february 13th of 2010, because dan was in india with his family and it was their first valentine's day together. there are a lot of intimate details about their early relationship in this video.

it gets called the vday or valentine's day video by phannies because it was titled ":3".

it was only up for a couple hours, but there are posts from phannies within that span. they reached out to people asking that it not be circulated with a poor cover story (that it was a prank they thought better of because it would be too mean).

people did not publicly circulate it for a period of time, but on halloween of 2012 it got posted publicly and got spread everywhere immediately. that's the second and more major outing.

in the years of like, 2013 thru the end of tatinof era at least but likely longer than that? if it got posted anywhere publicly it would get copyright struck by phil and removed. i don't have a definitive end date but the copyright strikes aren't still happening.

the leak is absolutely what lead to the peak era of dan and phil's closeting. understanding their need for control and how momentous it is that they trust us with anything requires knowledge of this context, imo.

i don't reccomend watching it. i haven't in some time.

i am open about the fact that i did watch it as a teenager in november of 2012, back when it was still circulating on tumblr. when i returned a couple weeks later to rewatch it, the entire blog i'd originally seen it on had been nuked for copyright infringement, and that wasn't uncommon for the era.

it was a really bad time in the phandom. dan briefly made a "customer service" sideblog & vehemently shut down people speculating on his sexuality/relationship with phil.

all of the archival information we have on dan and phil—the dailybooths, the formsprings, the old tweets, the videos they've taken off their channels, liveshows, vyous, etc? so much of that information was saved despite dan and phil trying to eradicate it in the immediate aftermath of the leak.

it's incredible that we still have it all, and even more incredible that images from phannie archives have made it into their videos several times from 2019 onward. their relationship with us has changed so drastically since 2012, in ways beyond what we could've imagined at the time.

yes, they were outed. that's the context for everything.

[girlboybug]

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it’s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it. 

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel. 

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time. 

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that. 

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness. 

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading. 

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for. 

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket. 

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly. 

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion. 

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms. 

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up. 

again. tampons. 

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol. 

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am. 

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that. 

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle. 

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home. 

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot. 

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived. 

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this. 

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t. 

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail. 

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly. 

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged. 

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately. 

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable. 

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more. 

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little. 

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself. 

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it. 

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts. 

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation. 

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other. 

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him. 

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove. 

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket. 

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel. 

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets. 

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans. 

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee.  the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol. 

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.” 

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing. 

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it. 

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“ 

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant. 

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.” 

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!” 

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans. 

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this. 

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again. 

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true. 

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat. 

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness. 

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it. 

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily. 

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t. 

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back. 

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them. 

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features. 

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really? 

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you. 

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!” 

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that. 

“kid…you…why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table. 

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness. 

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment. 

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up. 

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.” 

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice. 

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you. 

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door. 

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer. 

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel. 

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort. 

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object. 

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started. 

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms. 

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms. 

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp. 

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side. 

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself. 

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy. 

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine. 

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke. 

you were too damn obvious. 

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met. 

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different. 

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him. 

he unable to admit to himself that he  wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself. 

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all. 

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you. 

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort. 

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.” 

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back. 

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?” 

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around. 

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle. 

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl. 

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him. 

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it. 

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops. 

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you. 

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue. 

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions. 

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.” 

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?” 

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette. 

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet. 

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.” 

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement. 

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child. 

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality. 

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door. 

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again. 

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel. 

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him. 

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine. 

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here. 

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle. 

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back. 

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about. 

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t. 

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him. 

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath. 

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter. 

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed. 

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you. 

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain. 

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles. 

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more. 

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors. 

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body. 

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust. 

but there was none. 

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.” 

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.” 

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails. 

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper. 

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet. 

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him. 

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault. 

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors. 

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in. 

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in. 

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him. 

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger. 

he did that, for you. 

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him. 

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him. 

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands. 

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands. 

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor. 

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides. 

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment. 

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer. 

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him. 

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly. 

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with. 

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him. 

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more. 

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways. 

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there. 

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva. 

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper. 

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more. 

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his. 

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours. 

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest. 

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee. 

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately. 

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs. 

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast. 

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear. 

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body. 

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor. 

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you. 

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense. 

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in. 

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans. 

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone. 

he could die a happy man. 

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you. 

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place. 

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit. 

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries. 

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans. 

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you. 

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more. 

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible. 

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you. 

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly. 

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action. 

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name. 

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good. 

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae. 

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth. 

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed. 

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle. 

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet. 

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you. 

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed. 

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl. 

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair. 

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped. 

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever. 

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately. 

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt. 

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more. 

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.” 

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots. 

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago. 

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless. 

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel. 

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you. 

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders. 

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin. 

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him. 

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles. 

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,” 

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you. 

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him. 

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you. 

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out. 

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand. 

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple. 

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you. 

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix. 

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you. 

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in. 

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be. 

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist. 

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him. 

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement. 

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you. 

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit. 

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched. 

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him. 

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro. 

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into. 

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you. 

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries. 

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you. 

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.  

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples. 

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax. 

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous. 

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum. 

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.  

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your  ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

[loonmartell]

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, forced proximity cuz rain, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, lil fluff & banter, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

[mayaflowerxs]

hellooo can i request a smut abt jaemin and fem reader in a secluded/private pool just like the one's in inferno😩 thanksss!!

AFTER HOUR PRIVACY

Synopsis: On a tv show to find love, your journey with the beloved Na Jaemin all began in the pool.

Warning: Smut / Fluff /, swear word usage, alcohol consumption, pool sex. Little to no plot! So sorry it took AGES, I’ve been super busy but I’ll try my hardest to upload more!! Please enjoy and sorry it isn’t the best!

Pairing; Jaemin x f!reader

Splashing can be heard following a series of giggles. Besides that, only the the crickets are what keeps the night from utter silence in the villa. Way past midnight, with all other contenders fast asleep with the exception of two.

It was currently day 3 and although it was still all fairly new, you had already embarked the start of what can be of something nice with the charismatic Na Jaemin, 23 year old citizen from Jeonju-si ,South Korea. Contrast to your first impression of the man, you had quickly gotten close with him. Hitting it off way easier than you’d ever thought. Before you knew it, you would be taking a late night swim with him.

Even though, the two of you are already partnered up, with someone else.

Cornered, Jaemin’s arms are at your sides. On a mission to tickle you, a mischievous grin on his face to get you to laugh. Squirming and pushing at his chest, he’s too strong to stop him. “NaNa stop! They’re going to hear us.” You whisper shout at him through a fit of giggles. Shrugging his shoulders, he stops tickling you only to pull you in by your waist. You instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face in his neck to stop the snickering.

It was wrong to be doing this. To be out this late when the rest of the villa was asleep, and especially to be doing this when the two of you are clearly not partners. It’s not fair to neither person who’s currently sleeping alone in your shared beds.

“We don’t owe them anything.” Jaemin tries to reason with you. Raising a brow, you pull back to look at him clearly.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s only been 3 days, its still early days. We owe no loyalty.”

“But shouldn’t we at least tell them that you know…we’re…” “Hooking up?” Smacking his arm, he only snorts and leans in to press a sudden kiss to your cheek. “You’re cute when you worry.” Smacking him once more, he fakes a wince. “What’s that for?” “For being an asskisser.” Smirking his voice lowers an octave. “baby for you, I’ll gladly do all the ass kissing-“ An attempt to kiss you, you press your hand on his lips. “Not happening, you already ruined my hair.” You sigh and pull back, not noticing the slight look of disapproval on the boy’s face when you do that. In a small span of time, he’s noticed he’s grown needy for your touch. His arm was quick to rest on your side immediately afterwards. He stares as you take your hair out of the messy bun, hair still kept dry.

“Oh I’m sorry, how about I fix that real quick.” Jaemin shrugs before he picks you up, arms tucked under your legs. Wrapping them around his waist, “Jaemin, what are you doing?” Eyes widening when you notice he’s beginning to back up, going further to the deeper side of the pool. “Don’t you dare wet my hair.” You try to push him off but to no avail, his hold on you is kept strong. Last thing you did before the both of you are plunged into the water is wrapping your arms around his toned shoulders.

Coming up for water, splashing him when he breaks the surface only to grin in your face. “What an ass!” You try to move the sticky strands of hair out of your face, he only laughs and when he tries to swim closer to you, he’s only met with your knee attempting to aim at his lower region. “Ok! Ok! I’m sorry.” Ignoring him, you swim over to the other end of the pool. Picking up the glass of wine you left on the edge and just as you take a sip you felt his presence behind you. Arms on either side on you, caging you in, his chest on your back as he rests his chin on your shoulder. Mouth close to your ear as he lays small air kisses, “M’sorry y/n, please forgive me.” Attempting to give him the silent treatment, Jaemin picks on it immediately and results in pressing soft sensual kisses to your neck.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you closer to him. Hands massaging your soft wet skin. “Y/n, baby I’m sorry. Please forgive me?” Eyes closed as the feeling of his mouth and hands on you make you seem to be in some kind of hypnosis, you can only hum before you force yourself to focus. Shaking your head, you’re just about to move away from him when he pushes you up against the edge of the pool. “No?” He asks, pitch slightly risen, the question in it sounds taunting. “Would you like me to prove to you just how sorry I am?”

“Jaemin, I think it’s time to go inside-“

Squealing when he suddenly turns you around and lifts you up, propping you to sit on the concrete. Feeling much rougher than the smoothness of the water. “Let me show you just how sorry I am.” Pulling you to the very edge by your legs, bringing you closer to his face, your eyes widen. “Jaemin the cameras. What if the others see?” Not responding, he merely uses his forearm to push your back onto the concrete, spreading your legs to get full access to your bikini bottom. “Just relax baby. They turn the cameras off after 1 am.”

“But Jae- “ Throwing your head back with a moan, mouth slightly gaping the moment you felt his tongue on you.

Pushing your bikini to the side where he has no struggle in attaching his mouth on your sopping cunt. Tongue flicking everywhere, a finger on your clit as he proceeds to rub figure eights. Strands of his wet hair sticks to his forehead, his back muscle tenses the longer he’s hovering over you. Sounds of slurping can be heard the faster he eats you out. Fighting the urge to close your legs, your nails failing to dig into the hard ground results in them running through the wet locks of the man that has left you breathless since day one.

Your chest rises with every hard intake of breath you make. It felt good, amazing. He certainly wasn’t a man with little to no experience, he knew what he was doing. He knows how to get you going especially when he makes sure to look up at you, keeping his eyes on you. Even when his mouth was occupied, you could still notice when he smirked with every moan that left your pink lips. “Jaemin-“ You try to push his head away from you, you were close. He knew that and so he grabs your hands and pins them at your sides.

Sucking harder, focusing on your sensitive bud until he had you shaking for him. Not stopping even when you had already came on his mouth, not when half his face was drenched. His own grunts can be heard the faster he laps up your pussy, seeing the drunken look on his face is enough to know he’s gotten addicted to your taste.

“Jaemin, babe.” You whimper, legs shaking with every passing second that it stays held up. His grip on your wrists on tightens when you try to pry yourself of him. The man going down on you pulls back only to spit on your red throbbing pussy and reattach himself to you. Soon you begin to feel another orgasm beginning to start back up. Fully making out with your pussy, you watch as the pussy drunken man before you loses himself to your essence. A look of bliss on his face almost as if he’s been starved for who knows how long.

He can’t get enough of you. Since the moment he met eyes with you, he knew you would be wrecking him every which way. You would be on his mind from when he wakes up in the morning to when he falls asleep, but unfortunately wouldn’t be who he gets to partner up as it seems someone else also happened to have his eyes set on you. But he can’t blame them, you’re gorgeous, you have great banter with anyone even though he prefers if it was only with him. You have no problem turning him on and even though he’s currently partnered up with someone else, he can’t help but think of the many obscene scenarios he wishes to fulfill with you and only you.

So now, that he’s here. Alone in the middle of the night in Spain. On a beautiful villa with you spread out for him, how can he not appreciate every second he gets with you. Even if he may become greedy?

High pitched moans are ripped out of you, breath hitched as your orgasm is much stronger than the first. managing to turn your hands, your fingers begin to rub soft circles on Jaemin’s veiny ones. Something that helps him get out of his daze. With one last kiss to your clit, he pulls away and lowers your legs. Pulling you over to him until he plants his wet lips on yours. Moaning into his mouth when you get a taste of yourself. “You tasted like cherries, my favorite.” Jaemin says to you huskily.

A hand of yours reached the back of his neck. Fingers curling the ends of his hair, you notice the adorable look on his face. Lips swollen, tired face but his eyes still held a hint of lust in them. The idea that he may be harder underneath the water only wants you to continue this reckless behavior. Pulling him closer to you, you lean into his ear. In a whisper,

“Fuck me.”

A small groan can be heard, shrieking when he suddenly pulls you in the pool only to have you pressed on the wall of the pool and bent over on the edge. Hand tugging your top off to reveal your perky tits. Grinning when you feel him kneading your ass before you feel it.

His tip rubbing up against your pussy lips. Gasping at the sudden friction. Jaemin keeps you bent over, his arm pressing your back to keep your tits on the cold ground. “Be good.” He says sternly before he thrusts in. Gasping at the intrusion, you couldn’t believe the size of him. He wasn’t huge but definitely bigger than what you had imagined.

Yet again, the man takes you by surprise when he doesn’t seem to pick up pace. Instead he keeps his thrust slow and sensual. Making sure to hit every inch of you warm tight walls. His angry red tip kissing your cervix beautifully, the bulge on your lower abdomen becoming prominent of his tip. You felt slightly embarrassed that it had only taken 3 days for you to sleep with a stranger that you just met, but when he begins to fuck you harder you can’t seem to care.

“NaNa..” You whine, this only riles the man and soon he picks up the pace. The water moves with harsh waves with every movement he makes. Some of it spilling out of the tub, your face on the ground, hand gripping your hair as you try to focus on your labor breathing. Starting to feel yourself lose any sense due to his throbbing cock, Moaning when you suddenly feel him pull you up. His left hand wrapping around your neck as the other wraps around your waist securely. “Look at you going dumb on my cock.” He snickers in your ear.

“Feels so fucking good.” You manage to get out.

“Yeah? Better than what you’ve had lately?” He asks while giving a particular forceful thrust. Having to set your arm on the rail in order to gain balance. “So much better!” You agree.

Turned to face him, you feel his arms come underneath your legs. Scooping you up until your clinging onto him, he re-enters you. This time he’s no longer soft, sensual but instead he rams into you. Knocking the breath out of you, he pounds into you as you rest your arm back on the rim of the pool. Your tits bounce in his face, enticing him to lean in and soon he does,

Mouth attaching itself on your harden nipples. Sensitive to his tongue as he proceeds to nibble on them slightly. Sucking until he leaves them red and with hickies on them. Rotating between each tit, his face nuzzled in them even when he’s bouncing you hard on his cock. “Fuck Jaemin, keep doing that.” You plead, throwing your head back. His lips quickly to find your neck. Sucking until they too are covered in his love bites. No longer caring if either one of your partner’s find suspicion. They’ll have to find out one way or another,

That you’re his from here on out. And he does not plan on sharing you. Not when you’re wrapped around his dick so nice and tightly. Not when your tits are practically begging to be fondled with. Not when you moan his name so prettily, like his name was always mean’t to be moaned out by you. You got him perfectly wrapped around your finger and he does not care.

So, if he must go back to his shared room with the other contenders. To have to go back to sharing a bed with his partner. To have to see you get in bed with another man, he might as well make this night memorable for the both of you. A silent promise for more in the future.

Grabbing a leg of yours, he pushes you back on the ground and lifts your leg to gain a better angle. Better access to hitting deep within your bruised cunt, and when your walls tighten around him immediately he knows he found your g spot.

Feeling glorious, he doesn’t stop hitting the exact spot. Hair sticking to his forehead, its unknown if whether its water or his sweat. He ignores the fact that it’s getting in the way of his vision. He eyes dead set at the connection between the two of you. Watching how your pussy begs to be filled with his cock. How it tightens every time he thrusts back.

“Jaemin I’m so close!” You hiccup, he coos.

“You going dumb on my cock baby? Am I taking your breath away? I see how much you’re struggling to breath baby.” He taunts with a shit eating grin.

Rolling your eyes, head tosses back its quickly pulled forward when you feel his hand coming to wrap around your throat. “Open those pretty eyes princess, want you to look at me while you come on my cock.” Despite the struggle, you try your hardest to keep your eyes open. You rest your arm on top of Jaemin’s whose hold doesn’t relent on your throat.

You hear the way he’s beginning to groan excessively. He too about ready to reach his peak. How uneven his thrusts are, he’s faster, messier and relentless. His breathing is uneven and his brows are furrowed with determination.

“Shit!”

You feel your orgasm hit you like a powerful wave. Jaemin is quick to pull out, shooting his load on your stomach. Painting your body with white hot cum. Some of it going on his abs. Catching your breaths, Jaemin leans in to press a soft kiss on your temple. “You okay?” Sending him a soft smile, you nod and cup his face to press a real kiss on his lips. One you know he wanted for a while now. Seeing the look of content on his face, you chuckle and allow him as he begins to wipe his cum off your body. Helping the two of you out of the pool and helping you put your bikini back on. Pulling up his trousers.

Entering the building, the two of you head over to the bathroom. Realizing it’s a bad idea to shower if you don’t wanna wake anyone up. The best course of action would to simply change. And just as the two of you are about to head into the bedroom, you stop when you notice something on Jaemin’s abdomen. “What?’

His eyes widen when you suddenly get on your knees. “What are you-“ a low gasp falls out of his mouth as he stares amazed, tongue out as you begin to lick at his abdomen. Licking him clean of the excess semen that spurted on him. It was hot to say the last, but the tip of the icebreak may have been when you looked up at him with a cheeky smile. Feeling the familiar rush flowing down to his dick, he groans in frustration when you stop once you licked him clean and walked off not before sending him a wink.

“Goodnight.”

Now horny and with a hard on, Jaemin will have to fall asleep the you on his mind yet again.

Only now, he’d have to plan the next open opportunity where he can get you to himself. Away from the others, away from your partners and somewhere where he can fuck you to his hearts content.

To show you, he isn’t the only one that can be left wanting more.

[jamsandsuch]

advice for first year uni students from a uni senior

the roommate(s) will always be more important than the room

+ for roommates, SET. CLEANING. EXPECTATIONS. EARLY. don't wait until you're uncomfortable with how much mess is in the kitchen for you to start thinking if you should bring it up or not. set standards and make them clear.

put your key on a lanyard and hang it from your doorknob when you’re at home so you don’t forget it on the way out

if your dorm has a shared laundry room, set your timer for when your laundry finishes ~5 mins early to give you time to walk from your room to the laundry - especially during weekends/evenings/finals people wont have the patience to wait for you - even if your load just finished

If you have noodle arms like me, buy yourself one of those collapsible grocery carts you drag behind you like a luggage - best purchase i've ever made

Or if you're lazy, order online - but order on a free day because even if you schedule a time they're always gonna come stupid early and you dont want any frozen items to get spoiled or have your groceries stolen

DONT BUY ANY TEXTBOOKS/MATERIALS UNTIL THE FIRST WEEK/CLASSES ARE OVER. sometimes you’ll have early access to the booklist or syllabus and go ahead and start buying textbooks, but increasingly often you’ll buy the materials and show up to class just to find your prof has uploaded scanned copies of everything. *save your money*, wait!

BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS - look at your class schedule and walk around campus to find each classroom. you will probably get lost on day 1 and so will many other students so this will save you a lot of walking around bumping into other lost first years

trust me after a few weeks you won’t be waking up for that 8am class. i know you did it 5 days a week in high school, but there’s a reason uni students are allergic to morning classes. know your natural energy/attention levels and take advantage of the freedom to build your schedule around your energy fluctuations

compress/stack your class schedule as much as possible. if you absolutely do need breaks, make them at least 1.5-2 hours long or you probably wont get anything productive done and minimize these long breaks as much as you can so you can just get your day over with sooner

work smarter, not harder - when school starts note each course’s assessment type by quizzes/finals/essays. if i ever have a course thats just essays, i only do lecture notes + write my own annotations about readings rather than taking notes on them which saves time i can dedicate to textbook notetaking for courses with frequent quizzes + finals

if your school has benefits/discounts/insurance - know what it is and USE IT.

most clubs wont be like high school where there are regular meetings you attend. unless youre in the exec team the membership fee you pay/when you sign up for membership it’s just for access to their events when they happen. if you want to be involved in a club in a way thats as involved as high school, look at their social media pages for hiring.

+ as someone who has had to hire before - if you’re nervous, literally just do it. i was in an exec position for our student union services and once only had like 3 applicants to pick from

if you want to be noticed by a professor, sit in the front row. and always answer/ask questions - it doesn’t matter if you said anything of substance or not, they will remember that you contributed

that and also always make the point to say hello and goodbye! eventually (in my experience) if you come early enough and are just waiting for class to start, a conversation will happen - make these regular enough and you could have an important connection!

disclaimer: of course, not all of this might be something that resonates with you/possible for your course or school, so in the words of my cousin - take what resonates

+ anyone else is free to add on!!

[storm-angel989]

So I love the way you write about the Vee’s, so I wanted to see how Val and the others would react to (Val’s daughter) reader getting a motorcycle.

Hi there,

The answer to this question is the same as when I tried to get my motorcycle license.

They do not react well.

Enjoy the angry Vee parents (and Reader is her Mom- because this is PRIME OTO material)

<3 Mandy 

Valentino couldn’t believe what he was watching. And if he wasn’t sitting in Vox’s office, watching footage taken with Vox’s technology, he would be inclined to believe it was fake- a sick joke created to get him riled up. 

“A fucking motorcycle, is she god damn serious?” Valentino snarled as he lit a cigarette. “I told her no, I fucking said…”

“And did you really think you would stop her?” Vox asked as he leaned back in his chair. “I mean honestly, Val. She’s got your little rebellious streak.” 

“Why the fuck do you sound so amused?” Valentino demanded as he slammed his fist into the control panel below the screens. “This is blatant fucking disrespect, when her mother finds out she and I will…” 

��Hey! Val! Val,” Vox’s tone dropped. “Back away from my computer. Calm the fuck down. You’re looking at footage from three hours ago. It’s already safe, and waiting for us.” 

Valentinos expression dropped. He stared at Vox and Vox grinned as he spread his arms. 

“Vel’s got her exactly where we want her Val- no need to worry!” Vox said as he stood up. He clasped Valentino’s shoulder and held up a set of keys. “Now that you’re angry, let’s go have some fun.” He paused, “oh, and I did text your wife. She won’t make it for this part, but she’ll be home tonight.”

Valentino sighed. Great. His wife had to leave her job early because his daughter apparently couldn’t accept the word no. Reluctantly, Valentino followed Vox down to the lowest level of the V tower- the garage. There, amongst the limos and sports cars, sat the brand new, black and red bike. Next to it stood a furious looking Velvette and Valentino’s daughter, looking dejected. 

“We don’t ask you for much, do we?” Valentino heard Velvette admonish. “Anything and everything you ask your father for, he says yes. This is the one thing- the one fucking thing he told you no. He explained to you that he didn’t feel it was safe. He told you why he didn’t want you on this fucking death trap and instead of listening to him, instead of respecting him, you straight up…”

“Alright Vel, we’ll take it from here,” Vox interrupted.

“Daddy, I’m…” his daughter began.  

Valentino crossed his arms and looked his daughter up and down. “I don’t want to hear it. Not yet. What I want to know is how you got it in the first place? There are rules in place bebita- classes you need to take, hours on the road to be completed. Not to mention the overhead cost of the bike itself.”

She hung her head and muttered something Valentino couldn’t quite catch. 

“Louder, baby. None of us could hear,” Vox told her firmly. “Come on now. You did it. Take ownership.”

“I…I’m sorry!” She sniffled and crossed her arms. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

“Allow me to help explain,” Vox said as he walked towards her. He placed a hand on the bike and glared at his niece. “You hacked into my system, registered yourself as a licensed driver, forged and uploaded all the official documents and then went into the bank, upped the limit on the debit card we allow you to use and purchased this…this death trap. Not only did you blatantly disrespect your father, you lied, cheated and stole to get your way.”

Valentino watched as his daughter tried to wipe tears away. He could feel his blood begin to boil. 

“Is this how your mother and I raised you? A spoiled brat who can’t accept the word no- even if it's for her own good? What is your mother going to say when she gets home?”

“What does mom care when she has all of heaven and hell to deal with?” She snarled. 

Valentino gritted his teeth. “Bebita, that isn’t true and you know that.”

“Just  fucking ground me already,” she snapped. 

“Oh, you’re more than grounded,” he shot back. “Give Uncle Vox your credit cards. We will discuss further punishment when your mother gets home. Go to your room.”

Valentino watched as his daughter stalked out of the garage. As soon as she was out of ear shot he turned to Vox and Velvette.

“What do we do next? She’s grounded? We take her cards away? What else can we…”

“Therapy,” Velvette said with a shrug. “Sounds to me like she needs a session.” “And we have someone coming to pick up the bike. The digital effects are already sorted,” Vox added. “The biggest thing is getting her mom home and finding out why she felt the need to act out like this. Because between us- as angry as I am, and as much as I want to believe that its her acting like a brat, I think Velvette’s right. There is a deeper reason than just teenage defiance. But hey,” he clasped Valentino on the shoulder. “Reader should be home any minute. Let’s figure this out like we always do-as a family.”

[succubusonthedoorstep]

ArtTeacher! Geto x Fem Reader (Part Two!)

Warnings? Explicit Language and Smut, sir kink, choking, breeding kink, possessiveness, reader is inexperienced.

2.5 Word Count. Read Part One Here!

Author's Notes? finally uploading this <3 send requests and hcs, while i still work on longer fics mwah

ArtTeacher! Geto’s yawn echoes throughout his empty classroom- the lights flickering to life a beat late. The room smelled of paint and morning air as the windows were left open from the day before. 

To say the least, the room was a mess. The freshman class seemed to have the cleaning habits of toddlers. He rarely even came in at this time, but he made an exception for you. 

The previous day, late into Saturday night, you texted Geto about coming in early for a head start on your new project. He assumed you must’ve gotten his number from the school website, while yours was already saved in his phone. He felt his ears go hot as the next text came in.

(Name:) i’d love to get your feedback on it too!

He glanced at the clock that read eight am- an hour Geto usually spent out on a jog or still in bed because the weekend allowed him. He’d prefer your company over breakfast or coffee, but he’d settle for class with no way to comfortably bring a date up.

He spent the next few minutes obsessing over the state of his classroom. During the week it served as the beginner’s art course and they often left it in disarray. Geto had to start locking up the resources and completed works from his class, as they often went missing.

But with no time for him to worry about it, Geto began setting up your workstation. You’d be here any minute and he didn’t want you to waste your time doing something he could’ve started. All of your time should be dedicated to your art.

The soft knock at the door signaled your arrival, and Geto felt his heart drop in his chest. He sets down clean brushes at your easel before making his way over to the door and opening it for you.

Looking down, his eyes gravitated to the sundress you must’ve worn for him. Making his way down, your hard nipples poked through the thinness of the cloth and Geto’s mouth watered. He wrote it off, as he hadn’t had breakfast and you looked good enough to eat. If he had you how he wanted, you’d be spread across his desk with your toes in his mouth and his fingers in your cunt. 

“I brought you coffee, sir! I wasn’t sure how you’d like it, so I got the good sugar and cream from the cafe,” Bright as always, you gave him a sweet smile and entered the class to set the cups down. “I really appreciate you letting me come in early.”

Firmly shutting the door behind him, Geto watched your ass in the dress as you set your bag down to pull out packets of sugar and cream. “It’s not a problem…” He lost what else he had on his tongue, enamored by your thinking of him. 

“Aw, and you got me all set up?” You asked, gathering the ends of your dress to sit on the cushioned chair. “Where’s yours?”

“My what?” He asked, picking up a lidded cup from the on-campus cafe. 

“Your chair?” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing. With your half-done canvas in front of you, Geto handed you a palette while he sipped the caffeinated drink. While he’d love to keep you company as he watched you do his favorite activity, the room was trashed. He’d think those damn freshmen were doing this on purpose, keeping him from you.

Grabbing a chair and pulling it beside yours, Geto looked at you pointedly. “I’ll check on you in a minute; I just have to do this before my next class,” he explained. The (unintentional) doe eyes you gave him didn’t work- only creating thoughts of those same eyes filling with tears as he face-fucked you.

A playlist Geto selected before you came in tuned out the sounds of him tossing empty bottles into the trash and sweeping the floor. The jazzy mix of melodies helped the both of you at your tasks- you’d begun the next step in your art process, and Geto got to sneak peeks at your cute face scrunched up in concentration. 

Cleaning the room was soon insignificant; reduced from an hour of work for anyone else to 30 minutes for him. 

Rolling up his sleeves he finished wiping down a few more easels before lowering the volume and taking his seat next to you. The black coffee had done its job, that’s for sure. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, setting your brush into a cup of water. His mouth was set in a hard line as he analyzed the brushstrokes and tones of color you’d created. He wasn’t sure before this how proficient you were before, but now there was no doubt in his mind. 

“It’s beautiful,” he began, leaning back into his chair and making his legs comfortable before scooting closer to your easel. “But, let me show you something. Pick up your brush.”

You obeyed, taking your brush in your hand and standing from your chair at the flick of his chin. Large, warm hands rested on your waist as he guided you back into his lap. With your palette in one hand and your waist in the other, Geto could watch you work from a much better angle.

“A-Are you sure this will help? I don’t wanna block your vision…”

“You won’t,” He simply said, already feeling his cock growing in his pants. The curve of your lower back into your perfect ass had Geto’s hand dangerously low on your hips. “Watching you from here allows me to see from your perspective. Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, sir.”

“Then don’t allow me to delay you any longer,” he concluded, setting you on his clothed cock and watching you work. You could feel his eyes on your canvas, examining the vulnerability you expressed through your medium. Adjusting yourself on his lap, Geto let out a barely audible groan at the friction.

So you continued, despite the growing heat between your legs. When you’d lean forward to dip your brush into water, Geto’s thick bulge would grind deliciously into your cunt. You probably looked so slutty, you thought, sitting in your teacher’s lap like this. 

Idly whining your waist in Geto’s lap was just pleasurable enough to continue working, until he couldn’t take anymore. 

“Wait, (Name). Like this,” The hand on your waist guided you back and forth over his dick print. You weren’t sure how this could help with your art, but he was the expert, right?

At least he sounded pleased. The light breathing became heavier and the hand on your hip lost its innocence. Thick fingers dug into your ass, slowly lifting the thin fabric of your dress until Geto revealed your cute light pink thong. The brush you held between your fingers trembled from the bliss of finally having him beneath you.

Next came the clinking of Geto’s belt unbuckling and hitting the floor, your panties not following long after. He had set the palette down in favor of pulling down the front of your dress to pinch and flick at your nipples.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He demanded, slapping your ass and humming in appreciation at your desperate whimpers. The paintbrush slipped from your fingers and landed at your feet. “Not your first time seducing an older man?” 

“S-Seducing?!” You exclaimed, shifting to sit on his thigh and catch his lust-filled gaze. His lips were hovering over yours, maintaining eye contact as he took your hand and guided it over the bulge in his underwear. Watching your expression, Geto felt your inexperienced fingers stumble and stutter over the length of his cock. He could see the bashfulness seep in until you broke eye contact and pressed your face onto his.

Geto, completely enthralled, gave in to the amateur kiss without any doubts. Easily overcoming you, he guided your lips to smooth over his and pick up the rhythm of kissing. The room filled with hums of approval and the sounds of light smacking from your tongues tasting each other.

“Seducing,” he confirmed, moving his hand from yours to the center of your legs. Finding your clit immediately, he ran a digit up and down your slit. “With your cunt dripping all over my finger. Did you plan this?”

It was a rhetorical question, you assumed because he didn’t pull away from your lips to allow you to answer. Instead, he worked his middle finger in slow circles over your clit, drinking in the sweet moans you gave to him. When you dug your nails into his shirt, all decorum snapped in Geto. Picking you up bridal style, he effortlessly carried you to his desk and laid you down, slotted between your legs. 

Feasting your eyes on Geto undressing was a delicacy you didn’t know you needed. He first started with his shirt, loosening button after button and exposing his broad chest. You resisted the urge to sit up and touch, knowing from the look in his eye that he’d disapprove.

“First time seeing a man up close?” He inquired, shedding the thin fabric from his shoulders. Long fingers trailed to his loosened slacks, awaiting your answer.

“Yes sir,” you nearly moaned, drinking in his obvious arousal. The slacks he wore slipped from his hips, boxers following not long after. 

His dick was eight inches of perfection. The trail under his belly button led down to neatly trimmed hair, a pretty sight if you had ever seen one. 

He gave himself a few languid strokes, keeping his eyes on yours as he lifted your leg over his shoulder.

“I’m assuming it’s your first time,” he hummed, nudging your other leg open slightly. “So I can’t be too rough with you, hm?” His lips gave your ankle a few slow, wet kisses before he started running the length of his cock up and down your slit. 

You shivered, watching his cock thoroughly coat itself in your wetness. Geto’s hips rolled against yours, nudging your clit with every push he gave. 

“She’s greedy, baby. Look how she’s twitching under me.” His lusty voice deepened as he slapped your cunt with his heavy cock. You gasped at the contact and tightened your grip on the desk, hopes of receiving Geto’s mercy flying out of the window… The sight of your cunt gushing for him so prettily had him completely narrow-minded. 

With the tip of his cock pressed to your twitching hole, Geto admires his best work yet. He thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, but being sprawled out on his desk with smeared lip gloss and desperate tears in your eyes proved him wrong. 

“Be good,” He cooed, giving your hip an affectionate squeeze. Geto pressed and split you open on his length, watching your mouth open wider the deeper he slid into you. 

Any mere passerby could incidentally stroll by the isolated classroom, peek in, and find the usually quiet teacher railing his newest student. They’d hear the crescendo of moans echoing through the room (and in turn the halls) and know how much your sensei wanted you. 

Your legs settled on Geto’s rolling hips, the steady rhythm he set shaking the desk with each thrust. One hand remained firmly on your hip, while the other was placed affectionately on your neck. 

“Oh, sir,” you encouraged, his eyes holding yours. “Please, just a little tighter?” Taking a hand from the desk, you placed it delicately on his wrist and pressed his hand harder. Geto had to break eye contact to not cum too early, giving you a quick peck on your lips and tightening his grip on your throat. 

“You ask so nicely; how could I deny you?” His lips brushed yours mercifully, maintaining the harsh strokes that had your release creeping up on you. 

The hand he set on your hip pulled your legs around his waist, a satisfied hmph coming from his throat when you locked your ankles together. 

“So demanding, baby,” he cooed as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I'd think you’d done this before.”

His hand tightened at the insinuation, but only briefly. You were just too cute under him, writhing with the pleasure only Geto could grant you. His silky hair slipped from the elastic he loosely had tied, pathetically landing on the floor by his feet.

“Eyes here, princess.” His hand left your throat to take your chin in his fingers and make you look at him. His hair was draped over his shoulders and he had the pinkest tint to his cheeks. Geto wanted you to see; he was just as ruined as you were. 

“You gonna cum?” He asked, not allowing you to answer. His hips met yours in a quick snap, and you watched a sick grin spread across Geto’s cheeks as your face contorted with pleasure.

Your cunt gushed around him, your wetness coating the art teacher’s legs and causing him to chuckle. He released your neck to prop himself up onto the desk, pushing your legs up and settling himself into a mating press. The hand on your neck trailed down in favor of playing with your clit.

“Watch me,” He demanded, giving you a quick slap on your pussy. “We’ll paint the prettiest picture of this.” 

Keeping your eyes on where you connected, Geto painstakingly fucked you with slow, deliberate thrusts. Holding your gaze where he wanted it through the bliss he was giving proved almost too big a task. Every time your eyes threatened to roll back in pleasure, he’d give your clit an affectionate rub. 

“You’re mine, you know that?” He looked so primal, hair shadowing his face as he watched you nod your head furiously. “My pretty little wife. How clichè is it that we met in class?”

His newest name for you went straight to your cunt, both of your imaginations running wild with thoughts of domesticity and late nights of lovemaking. You couldn’t hold on much longer; before long the thumb Geto worked over your clit and had you squirting on his cock. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as he continued fucking you, mumbling praise as his own orgasm rushed through him.

Geto couldn’t resist giving your cunt a few final sharp thrusts as he painted your walls white. The muscles in his arms flexed, his eyes shut tightly and he let out the prettiest moan under his breath. The light sheen of sweat glistened under the dull schoolhouse lights, making the thought of being Geto’s wife impossibly more digestible. 

“Ah, I’m surprised the desk held up,” He sighed, slowly pulling out of you. Warm cum dripped from your hole, only to be scooped back up and pushed back in even deeper.

“Can’t let it go to waste. We’ll try as many times as we need to, hopefully at mines next time?” He climbed off the desk and offered you a hand and a kiss on the forehead.

“I love to,” you stood on shaky legs, leaning on the desk for support.

With his cum running down your leg and his hand mark imprinted on your neck, ArtTeacher!Geto impatiently waits for the portrait he’ll paint of you pregnant. 

like, comment, and reblog!

© succubusonthedoorstep2023. all rights reserved. please do not copy, repost, steal, or translate my work.

[wh0re43van]

Baby fever Pt 3 (Evan Peters X Reader)

Summary: Theres been tension between you and Evan for months due to your struggle to conceive. You guys decide to go out for a nice dinner to get your mind off of things.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: mentions of wine?, small argument?

A/N: I’m sorry guys I thought I uploaded this like two hours ago 😭 this will probably be the last part of this little series <3

Pt1 , Pt2

It’s been about three months since Evan and I have started trying for a baby. We know that it takes time, but that doesn’t take the sting out of the 10 negative tests we’ve gotten.

I sigh, resting my head on the window glass as I see the elementary kids at the bus stop awaiting their ride to school. A few are chasing each other, a pair of kids are sat down on the sidewalk as they share the same set of earbuds, and one kid stands quietly as they hold their backpack close to their chest. The warm hues of the morning sunrise cascades down on the group of tiny people. Orange and pink sun rays bounce of their coats, hats, and laughs that come out as puffs of condensation.

I smile to myself as I hold my herbal tea up to my lips, the steam coming from the beverage fogging up the cold window. I imagine what Evan would look like as he walks our child to the bus stop. What kind of silly dad pajama bottoms and stained hoodie set would he take our child out in. The image of Evan holding our little one’s hand makes my heart swell.

The click of the deadbolt unlocking grasps my attention. I turn to see Evan walking through the door with a few bags of groceries. He gives me a small smile as he sets the shopping down on the table.

“I still think it’s a bit early for grocery shopping,” I giggle as I pull him into a loose hug. He rests his head on top of mine, his hand instinctively twirling my hair.

“I know. I’ve been up since 5:00 am so I figured I might as well get up and do something,” he sighs. Evans been more beaten up about this than I imagined. I’ve tried to explain to him that it takes time, and you have to wait at least 3 weeks before you can get a positive result, but he doesn’t care much to listen. He’s just so ready to be a dad; to have that little bundle of joy in his arms. He already has so much love for a child that hasn’t yet been conceived.

“Would you like some coffee?” I ask as I look up at him with a small smile.

“That would be very nice,” he grins, leaning down to place a small kiss to my lips. I turn, reaching for the coffee grounds as he unloads the groceries.

“What did you get?” I ask curiously.

“Oh just some staple foods we were running low on: peanut butter, bread, butter…” he explains as he put each item away in their rightful home. “Oh and I found these pregnancy tests that let you know a week early!” He beams as he shuffles over to me, pulling six ‘Clear Blue’ pregnancy tests out of the canvas shopping bag.

“Evan,” I giggle, looking at him in confusion. “Why did you get so many?” I ask as I pour the fresh brewed coffee into his favorite mug.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. Just want to be prepared I guess,” he shrugs before turning back to the shopping bags. “Oh y/n look at this,” he says excitedly. I turn, handing him his coffee when I see the little bear onesie in his hand. “Isn’t this just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” He asks genuinely, the biggest, goofiest smile on his face and pure joy glinting in his eyes. This man melts my heart.

“It’s adorable,” I giggle, walking over to examine the outfit. It’s a brown, fleece, hooded onesie with bear ears and bear feet attached. I notice that its size newborn, but I don’t have the heart to tell him that even if I were pregnant right now, the baby would get here in August and we would have no use for this winter outfit. I just smile to myself and kiss him on the cheek before walking back over to the coffee pot to prepare my own drink.

“Woah! Is that caffeine free?” Evan asks urgently as he sets his mug down, spilling a bit before he rushes to me.

“Uh, no?” I look at him confused. He takes the coffee out of my hand.

“I read online that you shouldn’t consume caffeine while pregnant,” Evan explains. I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Okay… well I’m not pregnant yet,” I try to laugh it off and grab the pot out of his hand. He yanks it back, holding it up and out of my reach. “Y/n I’m serious. It’s not good for you or the baby,” he furrows his brows. I can feel my blood pressure start to rise out of anger.

“There is no fucking baby, Evan! I took another test a few days ago, and guess what? It came out negative just like all of the other ones! So please give it a rest!” I shout, surprising myself at how aggressive that came out; I guess I was holding that back for a while. Evan takes a step back, betrayal creeping into his face.

“There is no need to shout,” he says lowly, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t break eyes contact with me as he sets the coffee pot down. I know I’ve angered him. He has this calm demeanor when he’s pissed off; He never raises his voice or puts his hands on anyone, but when he’s mad the look in his eyes will strike the fear of god into you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I furrow my brow back at him. I’m not sure where this sudden anger came from, but now I can’t stop it. Now that I think about it, there’s been a bit of tension between us after the first few negative tests. It’s almost like he gets upset with me every time we find out that I’m not pregnant. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it that way and that he doesn’t blame me for our struggle to conceive, but I can’t help the thought from creeping in.

“You’re the one that snapped on me out of no where,” he says sternly, clenching his jaw. “Come on, what’s your problem? You’ve been cold towards me for months,” he asks seriously. I scoff, feeling my ears burn red.

“Me? Evan you’re the one that won’t talk to me for the rest of the fucking day every time that goddamn stick only has one fucking line!” I scream, not believing what I’m hearing come out of his mouth. He steps closer to me, intimidating me with his proximity. There’s no need for him to shout; He knows his glare speaks much louder.

“I’m going to our room. Come talk to me once you’ve calmed down,” he says through tight lips before silently walking away. I let out a frustrated sigh, pushing a box of frozen waffles off the counter as I flop down on.

‘I’m a fucking idiot’ I kick myself. We needed to talk about these feelings, but it’s just been so tense between us. The past few weeks I’ve been so emotional and there’s just been a tension hanging between Evan and me.

I sigh, standing up straight then finish putting the groceries aways. I decide to make Evan pancakes from scratch as a poor apology.

About an hour has passed and I’m taking the last pancake off the stove as footsteps sound down the hallway.

“You never came to talk,” I hear Evans’ sad voice as he comes around the corner.

“Well, I thought I would make you breakfast first,” I give him a small smile. Guilt rushes over me when I look into his eyes that are glistening with sadness. ‘How could I have yelled at him like that,’ I think to myself as he looks at me like a disappointed puppy. “Evan I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’ve just been so on edge lately. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that… I know you’re just excited for the baby, but I feel like I’m disappointing you,” I sigh I pull two plates out of the cabinet. Evans hands quickly wrap around my waist, pulling me into a hug.

“You could never disappoint me, y/n,” he says sweetly, placing a kiss on top of my head. “I just got a bit carried away, I’m sorry. All I’ve been thinking about is starting a family; I don’t mean to put any pressure on you.” he says genuinely as he rubs his hands on my back.

“I love you, Evan,” his words make tear up but I keep my head pressed against his chest so he can’t see. He always manages to melt my heart with his kind words.

“I love you baby,” he pulls away to look at me. “Why don’t we go to that Italian place you like for dinner? We can have a nice night out to destress,” he offers with his award-winning smile. I sniffle, nodding my head.

“I’d love that,” I say with a grin. He grabs my hand, placing a kiss on top before helping himself to the pancakes on the table.

•

•

The rest of the day went pretty smooth. We didn’t speak of the baby at all, just spent some time together; it was lovely.

I get ready for our date, picking out a simple black dress. I slip it on and examine myself in the mirror. A frown creeps onto my face when I see my reflection, suddenly feeling insecure. As if on cue, Evan walks into the room sporting nothing but a pair of black slacks.

“You know, that’s one of my favorite dresses on you,” he says sweetly. I watch him through the mirror as he lays down on our bed, propping his head up on his hand to admire me.

“I was about to change. I feel like you can see how bloated I am in it,” I scoff, turning to look at him. He sits up from the bed, drawing his brows down.

“Y/n you look stunning. What the hell are you talking about?” he asks in disbelief. I trudge over to him, plopping down and resting my forehead on his bare shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I sigh honestly. “I just feel like I’ve been swollen and bloated for the past few weeks and it’s not even time for my period,” I groan into his arm. He chuckles, placing a warm hand on back.

“You need to be nicer to yourself. You look just as beautiful-if not more- than the first time I ever saw you,” he says softly before placing a kiss to the top of my head. I sit up, looking at him with awe.

“How do you still make me blush, even after all these years?” I giggle as my cheeks burn pink.

“I just have that effect on women,” he laughs as he stretches his arms above his head, purposefully flexing his biceps. I roll my eyes.

“Whatever,” I laugh as I stand from the bed. “Get dressed, Casanova,” I tease as I walk to the bathroom. He stands up without saying anything then gently slaps my ass. I can’t help but laugh to myself as he runs out of the room like a child who’s just stolen a piece of candy.

•

•

The car ride was full of jokes and positive energy. Now we sit in this lovely restaurant with a live orchestra and decorative fountains. It’s a bit flashy for my taste, but the food and service are so good that I can’t complain. Evan sits across from me in his signature formal wear: a white button-up and black slacks. He took the time to slick his brown curls down and away from his face and trim his beard and mustache a bit to better fit in with the black-tie atmosphere.

The waitress soon approaches our table with a bottle of wine (which looks much more expansive than any bottle that I pick up at Target) then sets the glasses on the table and opens the wine. Evan speaks up, asking her to leave the bottle as he wants to pour it himself. She smiles before walking away.

“I got this especially for you,” Evan laughs as he picks up the glass bottle. “So if you don’t like it, you owe me $500,” he teases as me pours me my drink. I almost choke on my breath.

“Evan are you crazy?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head. He chuckles at my expression as he pours his own serving.

“Crazy for you,” he winks, knowing that was insanely cheesy. “Plus, I’ve been kind of persuading you not to drink and eat certain things incase we conceive without realizing it, so this is my apology for trying to control your body,” he grins sympathetically, holding his glass of wine out. With a smile, I grab my glass and meet his with a clink. He takes a drink, but when I hold the earthy liquid up to my mouth, I pause. I consider his words about possibly being pregnant. I took a pregnancy test just a few days ago and it was negative like always. I shrug it off taking a sip of the bitter drink.

The night goes on, lovely as ever. It almost feels like an anniversary date with our reminiscing and sharing of old pictures, the high class atmosphere, the expensive wine. The night was perfect, honestly. Evan seemed to have been stressed because he drank nearly the whole bottle of wine on his own in less than an hour.

“God, you’re just so- and you’re such a… and kind! You’re so kind Y/n!” he stammers out with boyish giggles as he pauses every few words to manually sort through each of his thoughts. I laugh at the wine drunk man slouched in his seat

“Thank you, Ev,” I place a hand on his face from across the table.  He leans into the touch as he closes his eyes, his lips curling into a small content smile.

“Hey how come you didn’t drink yours?” he queries as he picks up my mostly full glass of wine, sloshing some of the dark liquid out of the vessel onto to the stark white tablecloth.

“Evan!” I whisper, snatching the glass from him. “Well, someone has to drive you home,” I giggle, shaking my head at the 36-year old child in the seat across from me. I give him the excuse of being the designated driver, but it was actually almost instinctual as to why I haven’t had much to drink. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time to go home,” I raise my eyebrows at Evan who’s got the wine bottle up to his eye, searching for more of the rich liquid. I snatch the bottle out of his hands. He stands from his seat trying to grab it back, but stumbles backwards into his chair. “Jesus Christ, Evan! You aren’t supposed to get trashed in a place like this,” I scold him as I motion around at the elegance of the building. He just shrugs his shoulders.

“Hey! I paid to be here just like everyone else,” he rolls his eyes and flicks his wrist, snapping his fingers.

“I hate when you get wine drunk,” I sigh, shaking my head at the pure sass radiating off my husband. He just smiles at me with droopy eyes. I laugh, then call for the check.

•

•

After arriving home, I force my drunk husband out of his dress clothes so he can put his pajamas on. Evan is standing in the middle of our room in just his boxers as I sort through our dresser for his sweat pants and an old t-shirt. I carry the clothes over to him, then he suddenly grabs my hips pulling me into a kiss, swaying a bit on his feet.

“What if we try again tonight?” he asks lowly in my ear, catching me off guard, his energy now much different from his giggling self.

“I think maybe we should just get ready for bed,” I whisper back as he places small kisses down my neck, his strong hands pulling my body closer to his.

“That’s no fun,” he looks at me, frowning.

“Come on Ev. You’re drunk and I’m still sore from the other night. Let’s just get you in bed,” I smile, leading him to the mattress. He begrudgingly allows me to dress him before he lays down on our bed. Once he’s settled, I head to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

As I reach over the counter into the cabinet to grab a cup, I see the bag of the fancy pregnancy tests that Evan bought. I get my water and take a few sips while staring at the bag, contemplating whether I should use one. I shrug, taking one up to the bathroom with me so I can get ready for the night.

I set the box on the bathroom counter before taking off my makeup. As I walk to the toilet to use the bathroom, my eyes glance back over to the blue and white box.

‘You’re supposed to do it in the morning, it wouldn’t be accurate right now anyway,’  I think to myself as I pull up my dress, sitting down on the toilet, but in the same breath I think, ‘Evan bought like half a dozen, wasting one won’t hurt,’ I convince myself to hop up, reaching for the blue and white box, reading the directions quickly. I do as directed and allow the test to sit for two minutes. I turn away, brushing my teeth anxiously for the longest two minutes of my entire life. ‘I don’t know why I’m so worked up this time. I know it’s going to be negative,’ I think to myself as I put my tooth brush back in its holder. My heart drops to my stomach when I see the result of the test. I turn the other set of lights on in the bathroom so I can see it clearly. I blink my eyes as I hold the plastic closer to my face. I don’t believe my eyes.

‘pregnant’ is staring back at me in the small digital window of the pregnancy test. I smile, holding it to my pounding chest.

‘This could be a false positive. I’ll have to take another one in the morning,’ I rationalize in my head. ‘Should I tell Evan? If it’s a false, he’ll be crushed,’ I frown. As if Evan knows every time I’m thinking about him, he stumbles into the bathroom.

“Holy shit baby why do you have the LED’s on,” he hisses as he covers his eyes, trudging to the toilet in a drunken stupor. I stand still, just staring at the test in my hands, unsure of what to do. Evan yawns as relieves himself in the small room that the toilet is in.

“This could be false,” I start as I look at his backside. “But this test is positive,” I say quietly, unsure if he can hear me over the gallons he’s pissing. “Jesus, Evan,” I raise my eyebrows at how much he’s going.

“What?” he asks after a pause while turning his ear towards me, seemingly unsure if he heard me correctly. I wait for him to finish. Once he adjusts his pants and turns around, I take a deep breath before handing him the test.

“Now this could be false but-“ I begin as he tries to focus his tired, drunken gaze on the small letters on the test.

“Pregnant,” he reads aloud slowly. He looks up at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw before pulling me into a tight hug.

“Now like I said Ev, it could a false positive,” I remind him as I giggle against his chest.

“No way,” he looks at me with tears of joy streaming down his face. As soon as I see his tears, my own roll down my cheeks. He places a gentle hand on my stomach, using the other to wipe his eyes.

“How long until we can feel it kick?” he asks genuinely with pure joy glinting in his eyes. I giggle at his eagerness.

“It’s gotta grow legs first,” I snicker as he rests his forehead against mine. He laughs when he realizes how silly of a question that was before placing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Lets get you to bed, Mama,” he picks me up, seemingly much more sober now, to carry me to our bed.

[rreskk]

Heatwave

Summary: Sandy Shores experiences a frightful heatwave in which disturbs Trevor and his sleep, leaving him to use the only source of entertainment - you.

NOTES: Hey guys. I've not answering requests at the moment because I really wanna focus on providing much more focussed fanfics! Trying to improve and experiment with my writing, but this means I'll upload more promising works! :)

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1856

The humidity was ravishing like a spiteful bliss of rushed warmth evaporating from an active volcano. The many layers of heat had tangled Hell into Sandy Shores, the rock roads fuming, the metal trailers sparking and burning up. A horrific heatwave during the summer hours of early dawn. What was present outside was also found inside; unbearable temperatures and sticky mattresses heaving at his naked skin. For once he tried to sleep but it came with a downfall of sweat and irritation. The 3 day bender of meth fuelled chaos ended and the sleep deprivation caught up momentarily. So with tiredness and angst, Trevor attempted to sleep the night before and, almost choked up by the heat, ended up lying there with eyes wide open, his back stuck to the duvet and his whole body measured with sweat — head to toe — every inch.

He glanced over to your sleepy figure and glared with distain. His body rolled forwards and it grinds against your backside, needly asking for some comfort and physical contact while in the moment of Hellish heat. Though you were just as sweaty with the mattress becoming damp, you had somewhat managed to enter the process of a light sleep, your eyes closed and face aching with trickles of sweat.

“Wake up…” his finger brushed across your damp stomach, “Don’t sleep without me.”

This tauntingly disturbed your peace and quiet as you began to stir, his breath heavy on the back of your neck. Throughout the whiplashes of consciousness, his stench grew more intense due to the humidity and increasing pressure of the warm heatwave that caused his bedroom to sickly hold this stream of his sweaty musk. Your nostrils were inflamed at the punch and you peered over your shoulder, just now noticing the layers of sweat painting your skin and sticking to your shirt. He met with your eyes, still frowning.

“What?” You murmured after being eruptively woken.

“I can’t sleep.” He simply said like it was your fault.

Begging to differ, your stomach coiled at his demonising scent and slowly, you sat up from the sticky sheets.

Trevor immediately followed you with his eyes and took advantage of the free access to your body, his hands grabbing at your waist and them warm fingers sliding across your bare skin. It made you shiver as the contrast of your sweat and his sweat mixed. The sensation was more or less hot AND bothering, an unwanted caress of butterflies moving around in your tummy and making it harder to breathe. Them damned hands are only making this heatwave worse for you.

“Trevor.” You’d warn since the illy-balanced fractures of bodily temperatures were apparent to cause future sickness.

“What?” He grubbed in response, scowling. His touch remained fixated on your waist and quietly ushering you closer to his side of the bed.

Knowing it wasn’t smart to argue against this revoltingly lustful intimacy, you shook your head to avoid any more of that sober grumpiness.

“This fuckin’ heat is killing me…” And with a slight tug, you were pulled back and into his lap. Your head planted onto the sweaty chest and he gazed down with a snarky smirk. “Hey.”

A hesitant muffle left your lips as you obtained the urge to find comfort in this gooey, humid situation. While lying against Trevor was a diamond in the rough, it didn’t help with your hair and clothes sticking to your body. Overstimulation, at its finest.

“It’s too hot for this.” You protested and attempted to sit up from his close proximity.

“Is it?” He questioned before grabbing the back of your shirt. “It’s never too hot to spend quality time with my girl.”

Your body went into immediate shut down and you couldn’t hold back the grudge. Limply falling back, you gave him a deceitful sigh. “C’mon, please. We both are tired—“

“From what I can remember, you were sleeping fine. Almost too fine…” He murmured.

“Before you woke me up.”

Trevor grimaced, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to spend time with dear ol’ Trev?”

“I didn’t mean it like tha—“ Before your sentence barely spat from your tongue, his hand perversely broke an entrance down your sweatpants, harshly groping at your pussy through your sweat-shaking undies. “Fuck!”

You felt him smirk at your initial reaction. Trevor increased his grip as your back arched, the overwhelming presence of heat turning into an internal arousal, defeating your inner dignity. He maintained your steady position in his lap while that hand only abuses your pussy harsher, suddenly clawing at your clit through the damp cloth.

“Trevor, stop…” You struggled with a smile, rocking your hips and thrusted into his hand.

“Atta girl. You love it, don’t you?” He whispered as his lips remained attached to your neck. His voice vibrated throughout your body, assisting the rush of blood to your stomach and lower. And from what you could tell, as that growing urge bulged from his crotch, he was excited as well. A bit too excited.

Disabled of vocalisation – jerking your hips is the only way of communicating since he had stolen your words. How he responded was physically intimate. His finger, clinging to your panties, pulling it aside and freeing the wet mess caused by his monster teases. You just wanted to rip off your clothes and free yourself from the chambers of sweat and overstimulation but he enjoyed watching you grow frustratingly sweaty and sticky. His eyes were peeled upon the hair that stuck to your face, the silhouette of droplets on your forehead and neck illumining from the lamp beside the bed. Trevor always loved it hot and messy, heatwaves setting him off when you submit such a sight to behold.

You clumsily pulled down your lazy sweatpants with the damp panties, kicking it away with the jerk of your feet. Now you could see his veiny, pulsing hands that dared to finger your clit more than it already is. With circular motion, you watched his thumb press down and interrogate the sex, assassinating the build-up of tension starting within your thighs and making them shake with anticipation.

“Oh yeah, that’s how I fuckin’ like it.” You heard him moan when sighting your exposed lower body.

As predicted, he shuffled around, your back hitting the mattress instead of his chest and his hand, based on your clit, increasing in pressure as he used it to continue the yearnful pleasure. You moaned, eyes closed, feeling his shadow looming over your body when another hand opened up your legs more.

“Look at me, baby.” Trevor pled.

“I can’t.” Everything was spinning that you didn’t have the guts to face him in fear of coming too early.

“Yes you fucking can.” He reached for your face and aggressively open up one of your eyes, grinning when your pupils expanded at the sight of his face. Sweat, perverted eyes, wobbly lips, sharply inhaled chest that his ribs were exposed, you were devastatingly attracted to this ugly version of him.

There he was, your dirty man; all rugged for your taste and all energised for the next taster. Trevor ensured you were to keep your eyes open before glancing down, his briefs hanging around his thin waist, tugging it further down until the happy-trail trickled towards the V-line, then hitting the sight of his touch-starved cock that was caked in god-knows how much sweat. It trembled when the dim light of his night-lamp stared it down, showing off the ugliness and divine ravenous.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, beastly needing the Devil’s touch.

Trevor whimpered and lined his cock against your loose pussy, his thumb remaining tightly against your clit to keep you actively pleasured. Inhaling the last freedom of oxygen, he pushed inwards and took control. You both moaned at the intense gratification and fulfilment.

“Mhm… Yeah, that’s right,” He breathed when thrusting, his sweat being used as lube, “God, I fucking love you!”

You were being rattled relentlessly against the mattress as your back was inhumanly stuck to the material with nothing but pure sweat. His hands gripped your thighs and kept it wide apart when rocking in and out of your pussy, ignoring how frantically they were shaking. It made your head toss and turn to try and express this unnatural wave of euphoria.

Trevor chewed his bottom lip and adjusted himself onto his knees, leaning forward, lifting your legs up, the access to your sex getting bigger and the deeper he gets to fuck you. His hair was coiled in every direction despite the thinness after it was beyond bewildered by the caking of lather. It would occasionally drool down his face and drip onto your naked skin, his own fluids from the flesh of his body warming you up while he’s inside you – how dirty and filthy – how you are bonding and loving it like a Heavan in disguise.

“Trevor! Harder!” You unconsciously whined.  

He shakingly gritted his teeth and slammed his hips wildly, “Shut –“ His voice lowered, “– the fuck up, baby. Fuck!”

“Please!”

The witch-craft – or as for now, bitch-craft – of your weak voice made him stammer forwards even more, his cock rapidly beating you to a pulp, just like you wanted.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and panted while he dismantled you like a doll. The sweat becoming equally as arousing, unlike before. He was taking great care of your pussy by demolishing it. So sweet and exasperating, a last blow threw you downhill and you gave him a high-pitched moan. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“Cum for… Fuck… FUCK!” Trevor aimed to command you but it backfired as he could barely hold himself hostage. So in a haze of immense desire, he pressed his wrenched forehead against yours and memorised this moment before the urge to cum was threatening to follow.

“Ah! Oh! Ohh…” A hurtful whimper lasted for seconds as your whole tummy went into a series of spasms, cum squirting out, painting his cock which was flooded with more warmth and more wetness than it already was. Trevor kept on fucking you through the orgasm and moaned your name repetitively, staring at you through his eyebrows as sweat dripped off his skin and onto your cheek like a dog drooling from it’s mouth.

Your face scrunched up and your climax met with his, a sudden blow of fluids attacking your pussy and deeper. He threw his head back and shouted. “FUCK! YES!”

The bed stopped creaking and shaking when he collapsed onto you. His face buried itself in the crook of your damp neck and his cock stayed inside you while it shook off the rest of his cum. The only sound was the shared breathing between you both that was as familiar as a wolf feasting its prey.  

“Yeah…” He murmured suddenly, hands hugging your curves and more of his body weight pressing against you.

Rubbing his back, you whispered, “That felt so good…”

Trevor didn’t respond and closed his eyes. You were left comforting his tired body as he finally fell asleep, probably sleeping for the next 12 hours and caging you under his weight, making you roll your eyes but smile.

[redbatchedcumbermayned]

"I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option when voicing Heinrix" - Interviewing Chris Tester part 2

We're continuing our interview with Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat's CRPG Rogue Trader. In this part we speak about insights into Heinrix's character, how the process of recording voice lines for a video game works, if Chris would romance Heinrix in game, and interacting with his fans.

Part 1 of the interview

Part 3 of the interview

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

F: So, you already talked a bit about Heinrix as a character. What drew you to the character or what hidden depth did you find in the character?

CT: Well, I hope I found some depth to the character. That contrast between principles or values that you seem to be holding onto and lots of unprocessed trauma going on underneath. Sure, that seems interesting, that seems like a really interesting thing to find. Because you can understand, therefore, the appeal of an ideology, which gives you the answers and it tells you what to do. Essentially, it gives you a role, authority, it gives you status, you completely understand the appeal of that. Just like I find voice-over incredibly appealing and exciting: it gives me structure and authority and the illusion that I know what I'm talking about and what I'm doing. 

And then there's the flip side: you could make him heretical in some way, shape or form. And you know, I love, obviously, the fact that he belongs to part of that world which I'm sort of familiar with. Where a lot of the more interesting characters are the ones that have disavowed this God Emperor kind of like status in one way or the other, they tend to have a little bit more going on. They're not two-dimensional villains, not all of them, not all of the time anyway. Whereas on the one hand he's not going full chaos, there was just an interesting tension there to explore. Also, it kind of reminded me a little bit of the Eisenhorn series, which again, it's an Inquisitor that through his pursuit of different things starts to question and use the powers of the warp for his own purposes. A very different character, but still, there are those parallels that I really liked, that fallibility, that vulnerability to a degree, but I wouldn't say too much because I didn't really know how vulnerable or how much of a journey he was going to have in the early stages. I didn't know that until we were recording, I'll be honest. 

And I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option, until we were like: Oh, these are romancing lines. And I was like, you what now? So, sorry, I appear to be saying some quite forward things, from his point of view anyway, that's slightly taken me aback. They were like: oh yeah, you're romanceable, you can have a romance. I was like, oh, okay, right. I'll just think back to the five hours or so of recording that we've done up to this point and pray that I've made the right choices. So that was a bit of a crazy ride, but thanks to Olga, the writer of my character, she gave really astute directions. She wasn't in all of the sessions, but the majority, especially when there were big plot beats to explain to me what the hell was going on, however, roughly. She was great. And also the technicians at 3B. I was working with a lot of different members of the group technicians slash directors as well. And they were great in terms of giving me not exactly the bare minimum details, but the bare minimum details that I needed in order to be able to make choices quickly, but strongly and relevant to the game. So yeah, it was quite a trip.

F: Thank you. Since you have been trained as a stage actor do you bring a certain physicality to voice acting? If you embody Heinrix, do you puff your chest? Are you rigid?

CT: Definitely. I think there's the reason why rather than having a small booth, I record in a room is, that I can explore those dynamics as much as possible. And the fact that I was able to record standing and very upright and taking that space was vitally important. Obviously, there's the action stuff that really helps when you're actually making fighting noises. That's one thing. But I think in terms of real subtle differences to be able to, as well as mic proximity when he's speaking under his breath and that kind of thing, that's obviously incredibly vital, but even the subtle things of being able to have that big open physicality because he is so often so imperious because he thinks he's absolutely right. That was a vital aspect to explore and just being able to be upright and expressive in that made such a huge difference. 

And also when, without wanting to give too much away, he's in more constricted circumstances, shall we say, trying to do that just purely through the voice means that it all becomes about the sound that you're making as opposed to the truth of the character's journey without wanting to be, again, too much of a cliche, but focusing on that rather than am I making the right gurgling noise?

F: Were you offered any other character to audition for Owlcat? Or if you could, which other character would you like to voice?

CT: I couldn't say any of the other characters. I do play a couple of NPCs randomly. I think before even I had Heinrix. There's some cockney London geezer in there that is immediately disposable. That was me. That was my kind of guaranteed role. I was like, great, fantastic, because I did the audition for Heinrix and then there was quite a few months before it was actually kind of confirmed. I thought the role had gone to somebody else. As with many of these things, you just don't hear back. If you don't hear back, you just assume it's dead and then suddenly it'll come back up or it won't or you'll see another voice actor posting on Instagram going “amazing session” and you slightly die inside and then you move on. 

But in terms of the other characters, I mean, I've met, at least digitally online, the vast majority of the principal companion cast and they're all lovely and amazing and I associate them with their performances. For better or worse, Heinrix is very much my kind of casting and I loved it. Not because he's pretty in a particularly posh kind of way, but that helps. Sure, I'll go with that kind of slightly emotionally constipated. I'm very well cast, very well done, but I think so is everybody else. Throughout the entire game, it's a bit of a who's who, they might not be all household names, but in terms of for myself, the actors that I know in some big parts and some really small parts, the actors that I know in the UK and in the U.S. voice-over scene, so much talent, so that it was just an honour to be included in that really.

F: So now I have to ask you a question from our discord server. Would you romance Heinrix if you were playing a female Rogue Trader? 

CT: I think that would be a bit weird. No, I'll just watch videos of other people romancing him slash me. Is that more or less weird? I mean, I'm 42 years old. I've spent far too much time playing with myself already. So, let's just draw a line under that, but other people are welcome to. That's absolutely fine. My only thing, without wanting to overstate it too much, is that I was very surprised that there was anything around any character that I've been related to but as with so many of the other companions as well, that's a testament to the writing. Credit to the whole Owlcat team in that respect.

F: Would you like to continue working with Owlcat in the future in another capacity?

CT: Oh, God. Yeah. They've not made me sign an NDA, so I can say, not name a thing, but there's DLC for one of their other titles, which I'm going to be in, and that's in a completely different world. There's that thing of once you've had one really positive experience with the developer and the type of games that they create. The ones that are very story focused, that's the type of games that I'm passionate about. I was brought up on these things like the Mass Effect Trilogy. You know, that absolutely iconic kind of stuff, and so to be a part of someone else's experience to facilitate that kind of longer storytelling stuff is exactly what I would be after. They've got a great process, amazing writers and I also think that the games themselves look fantastic. So yeah, I'm a fan of that.

F: So your fan base has certainly expanded since the release of the game. Do you mind having a female fan base now? Have you noticed that there is a bit of a shift because Warhammer 40k for the totally uninitiated looks like a male hobby and unfortunately some part of the male fans are very aggressive against female fans.

CT: Are absolutely ridiculous. Idiots, essentially. Because my relationship to the whole Warhammer 40k thing is like, I played it when I was really young, and then you put away your childish things. I'm saying that in inverted commas, that's kind of ironic or whatever, and then didn't really get back into it until someone gave me a book and I realised that the lore was actually quite good, quite interesting, and then actually really good and really interesting, and I therefore have done some novels for them and a couple of video games as well. 

But to your question, do I mind? No, of course I don't mind. I'm very happily married and well adjusted, so I definitely don't mind as long as it's all respectful, if that makes sense. Surprise, surprise, female fans seem to conduct themselves with that level of respect or if there is a server which is going into crazy, crazy character scenarios and that kind of stuff, no one's sending me a link to that. And even if it is, it's the character, it's not me, and so that's all quite healthy and good. And I think I'm definitely not in a position where I should be censoring any of that kind of thing at all. I think it's all positive and very, very healthy and everybody that I've interacted with has been incredibly respectful. So, I think that's great. 

And I think being able to portray these characters that offer that level of connection is great. We're in a post Baldur's Gate world, I suppose. Not that there weren't other games that did this, but on that scale and everything. I think the value that the games can offer in that. Rogue Trader is hugely valuable and I definitely wouldn't want to censure any of that at all.

F: Yeah, it was nice. I reconnected a lot with people who have this fandom experience again that I had in the Eddie Redmayne fandom more than 10 years ago when it was small, when you have a rather small group of fans and then a very nice person that you're a fan of, and you can interact with.

CT: So people have contacted me via Cameo, for example. And, you know, they've had a certain particular playthrough and then they say, well, I would like you to voice this letter from Heinrix or whatever.

F: That was me.

CT: There have been more than just you is what I'm saying, but sorry, not to say that I'm a whore and I'll just do anything, but you're not the only person who has come to me with that kind of thing. And that's great. That's a pleasure, because it's continuing to tell the story on a wider scale. But also the fact that you can personalise and make it your own. And that's the brilliant thing. 

That's part of the whole appeal of a video game, as opposed to it being a theatre piece or a film or something else is that it was very much your experience, your playthrough. You can have multiple versions of the thing that you kind of like one but you can really structure your own narrative. And that's a fascinating thing. You get to iterate on it yourself. You know, if one stage of that is also being able to call upon the voice actor to facilitate that, I think that's a cool thing, you know, as long as it doesn't get too weird or too whatever, but you know, whatever two consenting adults want to exchange money for or time, great, fine. I think that's less weird than getting an AI to do it personally. I think that level of storytelling is a great thing.

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there &lt;3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

[employee052]

OKOKOK HERES THE AU IDEA

ive been revisiting Detroit Become Human bc of my partner playing it recently, as well as me reading some connor x readers that gave me this idea directly, plus adding in some other games that i feel like could fit, i had this idea:

(its not refined atm n hella rough draft so please ignore shit that doesnt make sense)

[CW DEATH]

The Narrator is an experimental Android named VA427 "Virgil", made as the ultimate assistant and sent to work at some office building

He follows the boss around, doing tasks given by them and walking around the office helping the boss manage it while they stay in their office

This is how he meets Stanley, an employee who is usually reserved around everyone except for Virgil.

He takes a liking to Virgil, signing to him and having chats whenever he passes by, and Virgil loves it.

The two grow close. Virgil likes Stanley because he treats him with respect and listens to him, Stanley likes Virgil because he's not judgmental and can understand sign language

However, as their friendship grows, the boss begins to assign more work to all his employees, causing most of them to be overworked with a few accidents involving people passing out on the job

Stanley is no exception, he stays late and does every task asked of him, Virgil is worried but keeps doing it since thats his task, however this is when he starts to deviate.

He starts questioning things during his time working, and realises his attatchment to Stanley

Stanley falls over one day at the office after staying overtime for a month straight for 3 additional hours.

Virgil runs in to help him as everyone else walks around him like its not a problem. Stanley dies shortly after in the office.

Virgil goes to call 911 when the boss stops him, telling him that its not neccessary and to dump his body in the basement.

if the police found out about the treatment of their employees, they could be sued, so the boss has elected to hiding the bodies and covering up their deaths.

Virgils furious, mourning the loss of his friend taken too early and the only person who treated him nicely. But the boss doesnt budge

they throw Virgil and Stanley into the basement together. Locking them in with a pile of dead bodies and all items that other dead employees used.

He goes to find a few spare computers and manages to find a way to hook himself and stanley up to it.

Connected to the PC, stanley's body and mind is uploaded. However, its not fully, since stanley was dead for a while before being uploaded, it only retains a few memories. primarily that of being in an office, and having a wife and an apartment, but not having the exact memory of who or what they looked like.

Virgil creates a VR world for stanley to live in. at first he had attempted to create sprawling stories for him just as stanley told him in past conversations, but Virgil hasnt really explored the outside all too much given he lives at the office.

He shifts the VR world so its centered around the office. He cant tell stanley he's dead either, so he acts as though hes simply playing a video game.

the next few years/decades are just the narrator falling deeper into the role of making stories for stanley and getting too into the video game idea. releasing the game offically however with stanleys consciousness only on his PC in the basement of the office.

during these years, is where im combining some aspects from portal blue sky and half life.

while virgil falls into the role of the narrator and is in the basement of this office with stanleys decayed body, the black mesa incident happens.

aliens come in, vorts n shit, and then the combine come in and take over. virgil doesnt ever see this bc hes safe in the basement.

decades pass by, then after a long while, an explorer wanders into the ruins of the old office building

they eventually find the basement and the narrators body hooked up to the computer and stanleys skeleton beside him

this explorer would take the keyboard and begin playing the game, until virgil, now the narrator, realises that its not stanley

however, so much time has passed and so little of stanley was saved that hes simply a dead man walking, an echo of a dead man, a memory

after a long time where the explorer and the narrator talk, the narrator agrees to end the vr simulation, he keeps it in his memory banks, but he agrees to not fully trap himself in the simulation to keep stanley going. hes gonna lay him to rest

getting up, the narrator finds his body to be alien to him, hes forgotten that he even had a physical form, and through the years of being put on sleep mode to allocate all processing power to the vr world, his bodys also decayed a bit

the synthetic hair doesnt grow, but begins to fade in its colour

his eyes dont work as well considering theyve been on standby mode, they still work, but theres a permanent blur to him that means he needs glasses

the synthetic skin on his face and hands only begin to sag and wrinkle

the parts of his body that dont have synthetic skin and are exposed from the rips in his clothing have rusted, the office building's basement being almost like the skip button where a break in the roof causes some water and plants and animals to enter and eat away at his body. making it rusty and making him slower to move

the explorer and the narrator leave the building, and take refuge in a small town of other survivors quite similar to eaden in blue sky, where the explorer lives

during the narrators stay here, he struggles to move past stanley, being focused and obsessed with him for decades before being brought out of it.

and here comes the whole reason why i got this au idea:

the narrator goes back to the vr simulation with stanley and the office, and shifts it.

what was once an office becomes a refurbished memory zone. with a desk for him to write in whenever the explorer sleeps and a place for him to calm down when tough things happen. its the closest he can get to a mind palace

however, hes not alone in here, he makes a small area for stanley to live in, he will never leave him and his mind, but hes moved on, hes past that grief.

he visits stanley in this new mindscape of his from time to time, to give an update, to just remember him, but he moves on.

the rest of the au would just be the narrator learning to take control of his life again, trusting the explorer and becoming more integrated with the townsfolk, managing his rusty body, and re-exploring his old hobbies that he forgot about.

ik i already posted the designs, but with this context, heres virgil and the narrators form before and after the parable

[gavisuntiedboot]

OMG WE'RE BDAY TWINS

Going to use this beautiful user's ask to upload a cute little birthday themed one shot! Happy birthday to you as well twin, and everyone else born during gemini szn <3 (so this is set as a summer birthday - apologizes to all my cold weather kids - pretend global warming took full effect and it's sunny on your birthday).

~*Boot Birthday Special*~

"Sir, I don't think that many candles will fit on one cupcake."

Gavi looked up from his phone and his eyes met with that of the poor teenager working behind the counter of the quaint little bakery in the plaza. It was a gorgeous day, the sun beaming down on the pale bricks and multicolored tile, painting the walls with sprinkles of gold. You were currently out with your friends, glasses of orange juice clinking the soundtrack of your early birthday brunch. Despite the day being about 11 hours away, Pablo's declaration that your birthday was his meant you needed to celebrate with everyone else at alternate times. So while you laughed and basked in light and friendship, Gavi stood at the front of a busy bakery using whatever geometry he possessed to see how many candles would look good on the delicate cupcake before him.

"I mean that's how old my girlfriend is turning. I can't just... change the number?" Pablo asked, nervous hands tugging on the hood covering his face despite the heat. A pink slip peaked out of his hoodie, the details of the real cake he had ordered for you written in scraggly blue ink. The girl at the counter, 15 at most, studied Gavi's features, trying to remember where she had seen these anxious features before. She glanced at the growing line, and turned back to Pablo's hoodie-shrouded form.

"Can I see what you ordered for her? On the full size cake?" She asked, smiling sweetly and extending her hand, gesturing for the form. Her eyes swept over her sister's messy handwriting, recognizing the request.

"This is one of our more vintage piped cakes. Very aesthetically pleasing. If this is something your girlfriend would like, then you should get one of these and put it in the middle of the cupcake. It seems like it would fit her vibe." Turning around, she lifted a large glass jar from the shelf behind her, filled with beautiful swirly candles in a variety of pastel colors. "That top one matches the color of the frosting." Pablo picked out the candle carefully, handing it to the girl to place in the bag. He thanked her profusely while she ran his credit card.

"I'm kind of nervous, if you can't tell. This is the first time I've celebrated a girl's birthday besides my sister so I want everything to look good." She laughed lightly back at him, returning the card. "Of course, happy to help. Can I ask for something, though?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Do you need a signature for the receipt?"

"Signature yes, receipt no. Could you sign one of our boxes and take a picture with it? We're pretty small and family-owned, and it would bring in a lot of business to the shop."

Gavi's eyebrows perked up. He had had this request before from friends of his such as his barber, but he never expected to get it from just a local cake shop. "Yeah, of course." After taking the picture in the back of the shop, the delicately picked up the pale yellow bag, bidding goodbye to the staff and telling them they would get to meet his girlfriend tomorrow when he picked up his cake. Getting into his car (yes ladies, he can drive now), he checked his messages, ignoring all of them except the one from princesa <3 xoxo, which was a picture of you in red lipstick and a sparkly tiara that read birthday girl in rhinestones. Smiling from ear to ear, he made his way home to wrap the rest of your presents and protect your cupcake from the rays of the Spanish sun.

~

"Pablo? I'm home!"

Your voice bounced off the ceramic on the walls, echoing down the hallway as you slipped off your heels. The plethora of paper gift bags were placed on the counter as you searched for your fireball of a boyfriend, who you heard before you saw.

"Bebe!'' A yell came, followed by thunderous footsteps from your bedroom to where you stood in the entryway, strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground in a tight hug. Giggling gently, your arms circled his neck and lips pressed to the top of his head, gentle kisses conveying how much you had missed him throughout the day.

"Enjoy going out with the girls?" He asked while returning you to earth.

"Oh, so much! They took me to this great spot that had the best pastries. That crème brulee concha was probably the best thing I've ever put in my mouth."

"Is it now? Well-"

"Ew Pablo shut up! I mean food." Giggles continued to shake your body as you pushed him away, failing as he kept you pressed against him. He pressed exaggerated kisses to your warming cheeks, the sound of your laughter swimming through his veins and causing him to float an inch above the ground.

"I missed you today, amor." You said, head rolling to one side to expose you neck to Pablo, allowing him more space to pepper gentle kisses along your skin.

"We were only apart for a couple hours." He replied, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in your scent, a couple spritzes of Chanel mixed with that special something that only you possessed.

"I know, I know but when I was celebrating with everyone today, I couldn't help but think, 'damn, I wish Pablo was here.'" You turned around in his arms, pressing your forehead against his and looking deeply in those beautiful brown eyes.

"You're genuinely one of my best friends, and I just... always want to be this close to you. Wherever I go, I want you to come with me."

Pablo brought both of his hands to cup your face, pulling you closer to gently kiss your forehead, before gently kissing your lips. It was so innocent, almost like it was the first time the two of you had ever kissed. Like you were an angel who would ascend if he applied too much force.

"I'll always go where you go, princesa. Forever." A beat passed with the two of you just gazing at each other lovingly The digital clocked displayed that it was 11:02pm, and Gavi dragged you into your shared bedroom, giving you a pale blue shopping bag.

"Get in the shower and put this on. Quickly, before you age." He flashed his gorgeous smile as you pushed him out, locking the door behind him. After washing away the excitement of the day, you walked cautiously towards the bag on the bed. You reached in, fingers feeling luxuriously smooth fabric. You pulled the contents out to reveal a gorgeous silk night gown, fabric printed with an array of flowers, a golden crown embroidered on the top left. Your face lit up, stunned by the beauty of the garment. A blue tag hung off the nightgown, careful handwriting spelling out, 'Fit for royalty'.

You walked down the stairs, the lights switched off, and a dull yellow glow emitting from the living room. You walked in to a room covered in glowing candles, Pablo in the center, with a pink box tied in a bow. Hearing your steps, his head turned to you, and his jaw went slack. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, admiring the way the soft fabric hugged your hips and framed your form beautifully, like a renaissance painting in the flesh. Your bare face, still fresh from the shower, took his breath away. The words died on his lips. He knew it was stupid to say out loud, but he knew that he had never laid eyes on something so stunning. He had never looked at something with so much love. He had never wanted to be this close with someone, and was certain that he would never feel this way about anyone else. He was so irreparably in love with you, and he had never felt better.

You walked over, arms wrapping around your form to deflect Gavi's intense stare. You had rarely worn sexy things in front of Gavi for prolonged periods of time, and were not used to the admiration. You moved towards him, sitting across from him on the plush rug.

"Princesa, we have all this furniture and you're sitting on the floor?" He asked with a light laugh.

Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers with his. "I wanted you to be able to see this beautiful present up close. And plus, this is our house. We can make our own rules."

He moved his free hand up to your shoulder, tracing it down the fabric, mapping the planes of your body. His eyes meet yours again, and the love they're swimming in hits you like a ton of bricks. He loves you. Pablo Gavi loves you as much as you love him. Separating from you, he turns around, and you hear a match light and smell smoke faintly. He turns back around, placing a plate before you, with one perfectly piped cupcake and a beautiful candle. Your eyes began to water, and you looked at your lover.

"Pablo, it's so beautiful."

"Wait, I almost forgot." He pushed the wrapped present towards you., It was now 11:58pm, and he urged you to hurry.

"So you can use it on your birthday." Your fingers pulled at the plush velvet ribbon, removing the lid and moving the matching paper out of the way. You reached in and pulled out a beautiful vintage polaroid camera.

"Pablo! You shouldn't have - this probably cost a fortune!"

His laugh echoed through the empty room. "That's actually one of your cheaper gifts. Hurry, bring it here so I can take a picture of you and your cupcake."

"One of?" You asked, bewildered as you slid your camera over.

"Yes darling. You're my princesa, and I'm going to treat you like one."

You went through 8 sheets of film on your birthday. The first was one Pablo had captured of you blowing out your candle, your nightgown giving off an ethereal sheen. The next was a selfie of you and and Pablo, both smiling from ear to ear after passionate thank you's for the presents. The third was a candid Gavi had taken, your sleeping form with your hair splayed across the pillow. 4 and 5 were dolled up pictures of you in your birthday dress, looking and feeling like a million bucks, not just because of the clothes, but because of the way Pablo was making you feel. 6 was a picture of a little blue bag with 'Tiffany & Co.' in black print, and a silver pendant with a cursive G engraved into it. Number 7 had been gifted to the girl at the bakery who had helped Gavi, showing a picture of the two of you sitting behind your magnificently piped birthday cake, the ruffles and swirls dulled by the grainy nature of the photo. And finally, number 8 was the one you kept by your bed. It was taken by that same bakery girl, and showed you kissing Pablo on the cheek, his smile bright as he looked at your birthday cake, and a silver spot of light glimmering on your neck. In pink sharpie, you put the date, and in your best cursive you captioned the picture,

'my lover'

~~~

Hey everyone! THANK YOU SM TO EVERYONE WHO SENT ME BIRTHDAY MESSAGES!!! I SAW ALL OF THEM AND HAVEN'T BE ABLE TO REPLY BECAUSE I HAVEN'T BEEN ON MY LAPTOP AND THEY DON'T SHOW PROPERLY ON MY PHONE! Back after a long while to post a little birthday special in light of me turning 22! It's based on, funnily enough, the events of my actual birthday, and a certain Taylor Swift song that I heard live. I hope you all enjoy, and can't wait to write more stuff for you guys!! (I can't believe it's almost 4am jet lag is kicking my ass).

[dearestxiao]

the color blue: vibrance | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: (college au) you've found solace in a newfound, faceless friend after a messy break up left a hole of loneliness to be filled. you can't help but countdown the days until his identity is finally revealed, but perhaps you've known this mysterious friend all along.

WARNINGS: while this chapter is mostly tame, this story will progress to have heavier and darker themes. implied stalking, manipulation and guilt-tripping, student-teacher dynamics (reader is 21, zhongli is in his late 20's/ early 30's), threats of finacial manipulation. I believe that's all but let me know if there's more! reader is gender-neutral

wc: 6.6k

authors note: it's finally here! the re-upload of the color blue <3!!!!!! thank you all so so much for your patience. bare with me guys, this story is a slowburn. (also you cannot pay me to yap less). this is a re-upload of my fic from my old deactivated blog based on my college! however, this isn't a complete re-upload. for those who have read the original version of the color blue, some parts of the story have been altered and edited to better fit my vision of what i want the story to be (so no horned up xiao (yet) sorry guys </3) i really really hope all these changes are still enjoyable, though! thank you to those who made it possible to recover this story from my old blog, and thank you all for staying tuned <3

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 2] [part 3]

this is a dark fiction story. minors, do not interact. as always, reblogs are extremely appreciated!

you have a love-hate relationship with fall.

fall was a melancholic season for you, a season that practically begged you to simply stay home and away from the gloomy, blue skies. fall isn't a bad season, not by any means, but you do absolutely hate just how much more cozy it made your bed feel, how the soft pitter-patter of morning fall rain would ring out against the glass of your window as though beckoning you silently to stay under the warmth of your cozy blanket, how it became increasingly harder to get out of bed with the way the floors (and days as a whole) were cold and contrasting against the heat of your comforter (which, as the day goes by, you truly are starting to realize more and more why comforters have the word 'comfort' in them).

you liked the fallen leaves, with their reds and golds and oranges. you liked the pumpkins and the rain and the sweaters and the need for warm drinks, but god does fall make it impossible for you to get up these days.

luckily for you, your roommate has a knack for getting you to do things you don't necessarily want to do.

the first thing you awaken to (apart from the numerous snooze alarms you've dismissed in the past hour) is the borderline obnoxious feeling of your roommate bouncing onto the bed to the side of your (once) sleeping body, startling you. you can't say that this was the first time you've been woken up with a bang like this, but you could certainly say that it won't be the last.

"goooooodmorning, sunshine!" despite your eyes not being open, you can practically hear the sinister grin plastered all over his face as he let's out a greeting in his singsong voice, watching as you groan out at his chipperness. you never understood how your bestfriend could be such a morning person, but you supposed that facet of his life fit him well, just like you hating mornings fit you.

"venti." you let out, feeling him shake you awake. "get out."

your lovely, loving roommate responds with an exaggerated sigh, followed up by him gently jabbing a chipped baby blue lacquered finger at your cheek as you try to bury yourself into your pillow. he pressed against you just like how you had pressed your own against the button that, had you not pressed an excessive amount, would have avoided this situation as a whole. you can't help but feel as if the snooze button was invited purely just to spite people like you.

"aw, c'mon, I can hear your alarm from the other room you know. you were gonna need to wake up eventually." you force your head up just a little to pick up and peek at your phone with one sleepy eye, reading the time on the clock and realizing he's right, causing you to know full well that had he not woken you up you would've easily slept through your morning classes.

putting your phone back down, you roll your eyes. "yeah, yeah." you mock, moving to yawn and stretch before giving venti your full attention, eyeing his mischievous grin from your position. "what'd you want?"

"ugh, can't a man wake up his bestfriend without having any nefarious intentions in mind?" you deadpan at him, giving him that sort of look that just screams, 'no.'

"okay, fine, so I do have some mal-intent, but I made you breakfast, so it evens out! and since you're obviously so insistent on helping me out..." he smirks, and you instantly become suspicious, but you allow him to talk, wanting to see what he plans to rope you into this time.

"you know how I'm a great friend, an amazing one at that, and take you out to places all the time so that you can truly come out of that little shell you like to keep yourself in? how I'm such an oh-so amazing person that I use my popularity to let you enjoy life to your fullest? how I love to spoil you dearly, allowing you to truly-"

you're half tempted to throw a pillow at his face. "get to the point," you groan.

he dramatically rolls his eyes. "ugh, you're no fun. so, there's this halloween party..."

"I don't like where this is going."

he presses his pointer finger right against your lip. "hush! so, there's this halloween party, and I think it'd be fun for you to tag along with-"

"no."

"don't be a grinch! c'mon, I need a date! I even bought us matching costumes!"

"don't you have, like, a million other people that could be your date?."

he groans. "ugh, you know, you should seriously stop thinking about what others think. besides, all you've been doing these past few weeks is studying and sleeping. you need a break, have some fun! I promise it'll be a great time."

you sigh, willing to hear him out. you suppose you have been overworking yourself. "and what if I'm busy on sunday?"

he doesn't respond with quick wit like he usually does, and it makes you worried. you finally take a full, good look at him as you respond, and you watch as you see the smile on his once beaming face start to dissipate, and you instantly get hit with a pang of guilt at the sight. you note the way in which he's half dressed and how his messy dyed blue hair is still pinned back, as though he really did go out of his way to wake you up while he was getting ready. he looks away from you, as though he's trying to hold himself back from saying something. "do you... do you really have plans on halloween?" he says lowly, as though heartbroken.

the guilt really is hitting you strong. only venti can make you feel this bad this early in the morning.

"well, not at night atleast, but I'm not exactly sure that I want to spend it watching you in a costume get wasted." you try to joke, but you can tell that somethings up with venti. he doesn't find it funny, not one bit. "besides, I'm sure that you can find someone else to be the... er, morticia to your gomez addams, or something."

he nods slowly in an almost wounded baby bird fashion. "right. sorry for asking. I knew it'd be a bad idea to ask." his voice croaks a bit like he's right at the brink of tears. he moves to get up, as though trying to flea the scene, but your hand on his wrist stops him from going.

"hey, wait, what's wrong? I didn't think this would be such a big deal to you. you always party without me."

he let's out a tired, exhausted sigh. "you don't get it. it's fine, I can find someone else like you said."

"get what?"

"it," he replies. "you don't get it. it's not just a party to me." you quirk a worried browed towards his way, beckoning for him to explain. he shakes his head solemnly.

"it's just... it feels like you never want to hang out with me anymore. I don't know. I've been trying to make excuses for us to finally spend some time together but everytime you say no. I know that you're busy and all, and parties aren't exactly your thing, but you usually love halloween so I just thought..." he pauses, taking a deep breath. "it just... hurts. hurts that despite living with you I barely get to see you."

you interlace your hand with his, something you know that has always brought him comfort. you squeeze, letting out a little sigh, watching as he refuses to look at you as pink dusts his cheeks. you mull it over quickly as he looks at you at the feeling of your hand. "I'll go to the party." you say, despite knowing full well that you'd rather die than attend it. you'd truly do just about anything for your bestfriend.

"really?" he says, eyes wide as his signature smile begins forming again on his face. "you'll go? seriously?"

you shrug. "yeah, sure. who knows, it may be fun. hopefully, atleast."

venti nods eagerly, thumbing at your hand in delite. "great! you won't regret it, I promise. I'll tell you more about it later. oh [name], we'll have a blast, I swear on it." venti produces this wide, toothy grin, smiling down at you like you just told the man that he won a life-times supply of wine.

"thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd love to keep you here, but now that you've sealed the deal with me, you should start to get going." you check the time and he's right, you really should. shit, you're gonna be late for your class.

-----♡

you still have the very first letter he sent to you.

that fact is something you remember when your eyes land on the calendar on your wall as you hastily get ready for class. many of the days are crossed out, with only a handful remaining until the last day of the month; october 31st, the faithful day you will meet your penpal.

you still cant believe you're meeting him. the days—months, even— before you two came into contact are still a haze in the back of your mind. it was a little after your mind had become frazzled in the aftermaths of a messy, sudden breakup. during that time you had spent more time holding yourself inside an isolated cacoon than you'd like to admit.

the break up (that's still too much of an open wound for you to even want to think about right now) had honestly shook you to your core, making you crave some time alone, time to think and reflect on what had happened and on yourself. you spent most of your time away from everyone who wasn't venti (who, to be fair, you didn't really have a choice of getting away from in the first place, even if you had wished to).

however, there was an issue you couldn't ignore. despite the sheer largeness of the student population at your university, and how many people you know through your more than social roommate, you've always felt an incredible loneliness, a loneliness that was only worsened after the breakup.

for weeks on end you had craved some sort of connection, a fresh start, someone you could talk to that was your friend and not just venti. luckily, one day you had stumbled upon something while scrolling through your school's forum, a beacon of light.

it was a post where you could apply to be a penpal.

the idea seemed fun to you. all you had to do was submit a short bio of yourself, say some stuff you're into, what kind of penpal you were interested in, and your school mailbox. after that, you'd simply just have to wait and see if someone had took interest in you.

you honestly weren't expecting much, but you were pleasantly surprised when a few different people had actually sent in letters after a couple days. one was in reply to a letter you sent to someone who also posted their bio. another was in response to yours. the one that had stuck with you most, though, was one from an unrecognizable address off campus with an even less recognizable name attached.

and there it was, a glimmering sheet of the potential to get out of your slump right inside of your mailbox.

who was he? you couldn't help but be intrigued, and after reading over the letter the mysterious stranger (penpal?) had sent, you felt more than inclined to respond, quickly creating a relationship with the man who you would soon end up considering a close friend.

truth be told, you had obsessed over his letters, partially out of curiosity, and partially out of the way you felt so connected to this newfound friend despite never having spoken to him before. he always wrote them in a hasty, cursive script, sometimes a little smudged. many words were always scribbled out, as if constantly trying to find the best words to say, causing large blotches of the paper to be stained with dark ink. and yet the words themselves were soft and delicate. he never wrote with intensity. and he never wrote much about himself, either.

the extent of personal things he'd share eith you were limited to things like a song he was really into at the moment, a book he read recently, an assignment he was working on, or a quiet spot around or near campus he discovered. every once in awhile he'd honor you with a small little story about his life, but most of the time he'd spend his letters asking about details on yours. no matter how hard you tried to stir the conversation towards him, he always brought it back towards you, you, you. any question you'd ask would be met with short answers, or would simply just pivot back to asking about you.

you couldn't lie and pretend like it didn't fuel and egg on your curiosity. he always wrote just enough to keep you intrigued, making you feel insatiable, always wanting to know more. and yet, despite your best efforts, your mysterious penpal never gave up any more information than you needed to know.

you have a mental compilation of the upmost important details of him: the first is that he, of course, obviously goes to the same school as you, that's a given. there'd be no way he would've become your penpal otherwise. he lives off-campus, though, like you do.

the second is that he's in the same year as you, and you think he's somewhere in the history department, again, like you are. that means you've probably atleast seen him around at some point.

the third, and most important, is that he (atleast from what he alludes to) has some sort of past he rather not bring up, some past wounds and scars he'd rather not show, something that makes him keep his barriers up.

and that wall is thick. you've spent more hours than you can think pensively thinking about the identity behind the smudged ink, but to no avail. you didn't even know his real name. 'alatus' was what he told you to call him, but it's clear the name was just nothing more than a childhood nickname.

then, one day, you had opened up the newest letter he had sent and to your surprise, the sole thing written on the sheet of paper was a simple sentence and a string of numbers right under it— a phone number, his phone number. it read, "I want to be able to talk to you more than we can through these letters."

and talk, you two did.

maybe it's the ability to talk to him continously without having to await until you recieve a new letter, but you two had talked a lot, quickly becoming closer and closer. while you made sure to not sure anything too personal, you had shared much of your life with him, sometimes telling him things even venti didn't know. and sometimes, on rare occasions, he'd share something back, just enough for you to be ever craving more.

that craving was promised to be satiated after he had asked you something one night after talking for hours.

alatus: can we meet? we don't have to if you're not comfortable, of course, but I'd like to see you.

of course you said yes.

you: but how will I know it's you when I see you? you: tell me something special about yourself. some way I can know it's you when I see you alatus: I have nothing special about myself to tell you.

you: that's got to be a lie. of course you have something special about yourself. just give me something to identify you with or something, pleaseee alatus: the only thing that I can tell you is that I like the color blue. you: that doesn't tell me anything alatus: it tells you more than enough, you'll see.

that conversation happened a little over a month ago, and despite how much you've talked to him since then, you know not much more about him than you did before.

after finishing your routine and getting ready for class, you make sure to pick up a marker before you leave, crossing out yesterday's date. you only have just a few more 'x's' before you meet him.

ーーー☆

if there was one thing you hated more than having to leave a perfectly warm bed in the mornings everyday, it'd be the busy morning trains.

nothing feels more terrible (atleast in your grumpy, groggily morning mindstate) than being pushed and shoved by people with no basic understanding of personal space, or having to listen to the chattering loud noises of business men talking way too loud for comfort on their phone, or having to be painfully alert of just what stop you're getting off at when you're so tired and sluggish that you're genuinely wondering if your morning classes are even worth attending (you're definitely gonna schedule your classes different next semester, you can't help but think).

but if there's one thing that makes these trainrides even remotely better, one small but sole and detrimental saving grace, it's familiar faces.

you're never in the mood to talk during the mornings, mind too occupied on other things to handle maintaining even the most basic of conversations, but sometimes having someone accompany you makes you feel less lonely in a room (or in this case, a train cart) full of people, and that counts for atleast something. there's part of you that wishes that venti had accompanied you today on your way to classes even though his classes don't start till much later. your mental state is practically begging for some absentminded chatter to keep it occupied (venti always had a talent for talking when needed and distracting you from just about everything wrong in life, a talent that you're craving to bless you with right now).

luckily for you, though, as your eyes trail around the crowded train, you find something equally as distracting as a close friend would be.

you're still so, so utterly sleepy, but as your eyes trail to a glint of green (specifically the faded color you get after not redying your once vibrant blue hair in a long time), you suddenly feel a bit more awake, making eyecontact with the man that, no matter how much you try, seems to never not glare at you with his piercing golden eyes.

it's definitely not uncommon to see xiao on the same morning train as youーhell, it's not even uncommon for you to see him on the same night train as you, despite how sporadic the times you leave campus to go home isー considering you two share numerous classes with eachother (classes you're almost sure from limited knowledge that he's not actually into, classes that genuinely make you stop and wonder how and why xiao chose to be in them). but the sight of him makes your heart race a little, both at the way he steals quick glances at you before looking away, and at the way you find yourself silently intrigued by him, especially by just what his constant glances (and glares) could possibly mean mean.

despite his catish looks, xiao is a beautiful person, you think, fingers tightening around the train pole to keep your balance as your mind fills up with thoughts on the man infront of you.

he's pretty.

you feel eyes on you as you move to look away, not wanting to stare at him for long enough to seem like a creep (though unbeknownst to you, xiao does not share that same sentiment), instead moving to put in your earbuds and tune out all other chattering in the train, drowning it out with your music as you let yourself absentmindedly think of xiao. you noted that he looked exhausted, even moreso than usual, as though he'd been up all night just like you had. his hair was messy, thrown up in a half up half down style that framed his pierced face and ears perfectly in it's own imperfect way, and his eyebags match the overall tired feel he has going on. some things never change, you think.

you remember all the way back when you were just a college freshmen, locking eyes with the man for the first time ever in your life (though it wasn't by any means the first time his eyes laid upon you) just like you had moments prior. you vividly recall the way your breath hitched and your body stilled, the way you stared at him for far too long, the way your eyes glanced over all of him, as though trying to etch him into your memory.

it was like a scene from one of those teen romcoms you and venti watch whenever you're bored and want to hangout on saturdays, those scenes that feel too magical to ever even be considered as a possibility of happening in real life, only this time nothing truly spectacular came out of the moment. the occurance wasn't special, not by any means, but when your eyes locked with his the world seemed to stop and it was as though you two were the only ones in the world.

back then, his hair wasn't dyed the two iconic tones of blue he now rocks (or atleast, used to, before it faded out), nor did he have nearly as many expressive piercings and tattoos decorating his body further. instead, xiao was just... xiao; a blank slate begging to be covered in the self expressive forms xiao later delved deep into. there's always this soft frown on his face and eyes that are practically begging to be stared into.

the first thing you had noted back then (and even now as they grow in desperation) were his borderline begging eyes. begging to be seen. begging to be comforted. begging to be heard. eyes are the windows to the soul, and in xiao's case, xiao's windows lead into a home that has far too much going on, a home with curtains trying to shield people from looking inside, though they're far too sheer to actually do their jobs. a lonely soul. his eyes themselves weren't dead or empty, just... tired, as though they constantly scour around in attempt to find meaning in everyday life. the beautiful gold was and still is accented by horridly dark circles, and the thing you've never noticed about xiao is the way his eyes glimmer and sparkle a little when they meet yours. perhaps you don't pay attention to him as much as you think, as much as he would to you.

if you did, you'd know he found meaning you.

it's an admittedly comforting sight, moody and drowning like the deepest of oceans despite their gold glimmer, human. they make you feel seen, but most of all, they glare deep into the part of you that wants so heavily to just be there for him as though he's silently pleading for your attention. it looks like he's begging to be hugged and loved, or more specifically, to be loved back.

there's a part of you that wondered if half of the purpose of his appearance change was to intimidate people from trying to figure him out, to pretend as though his eyes weren't as desperate for comfort as they truly were.

and in that same exact (anticlimactic) moment, you came to the realization that everyone has a life just as deep and complex and layered as yoursーsonderー, and you furthermore realized that you want to know each and every complexity that the blue haired man in front of you had. you had found it unfair that you didn't know everything there was to know about him, and even now, as you stare and once again memorize the features you should already have etched into your head by now, mind trailing to the thought of just how many opportunities you've had to learn all there is to know about them that you didn't take, that fact still hasn't changed despite how many opportunities you had to over the past few years. xiao has remained the blank slate he was two years prior, no matter how dearly you wished otherwise.

perhaps that's your true downfall as a human being. curiosity is a curse. somethings are better left unknown, just like the identity of the man you've met online.

either way, no ones ever felt more like home then xiao did. though you? you're his entire universe and more.

now as your eyes shamefully lingers on him once more, wanting to get one last look at him before you have to get off the train due to reaching your (and his) destination, you come to a revelation.

xiao looks like the color blue.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: how'd you sleep last night?

you: maybe we should've slept earlier, I'm on my way to class right now and feel super exhausted

alatus: sorry. I shouldn't have kept you up. if it's worth anything, I'm really tired too.

alatus: I don't regret it though.

you: I don't either, but I will say I do regret asking you for that hint. haven't stoped thinking about it ever since I asked for it lol

alatus: really?

you: yeah, saw this guy on my commute to school and instantly thought about the color blue. it felt so weird

you: I don't think he even likes blue lol

alatus: yeah? what'd he look like?

you: like someone who hates colors as a whole

ーーー☆

today hadn't been the best of days for you.

you knew from the way professor zhongli had eyed you up and down as you walked into his classroom, mumbling a soft and short apology for being a few minutes late, that you should've just stayed home today. there was a nauseating glint in his eyes as they trailed after you, watching as you sat down. everyone else was eerily quiet, as though trying not to awake a sleeping dragon, causing anxiety to shoot through your veins. something was wrong.

"glad you've finally graced us with your presence, [name]. perhaps you'd like to inform the class as to why you were late today?" he speaks, uncaring of the lesson he was teaching just seconds ago, far more interested in chastizing you for just how disappointing you've been as of late. you squirm in your seat, chewing on the bottom of your lip as you think of what to say.

"I..." he doesn't give you a chance to truly explain himself. he rolls up the long sleeves of his white button up, heels clicking against the tiles of the floor as he walks to your desk.

"surely you've stayed up late studying for my class to make up for the sloppy quality of work you've been turning in as of late, correct?" he speaks lowly in his what would otherwise be soothing voice, but all it does is make the moment more embarrasing, more intimate as you feel the pitied stares of your classmates.

you don't respond. you can't, really. it's as though your lips are sealed with the weight of the poison laced on his words. the best you can do is fidget with your hands, already beginning to hold back tears, lip quivering as you try not to let your professor's notoriously ruthless teaching methods get to you. you could be sassy and catty with venti considering how close you two are, sure, but you could never be able to speak up against the domineering man infront of you.

"youー" zhongli isn't able to get a full word into his sentence before stopping as he hears the door to the class open once again. you're don't dare look back, but you do hear a quiet, mumbled apology for being late, and just from the tone alone you can tell it's coming from xiao. you watch as zhongli shakes his head at the sight, entire body radiating disappointment, and yet he doesn't give xiao the same scolding he gave you, saving him from the embarrasment.

what a biased dick, you think.

he shakes his head, sighing, deciding to save his energy. "... see me after class, [name]. you seem to be having a rough day, so I'll try to stop myself from adding onto your stress as much as possible. but please understand that in the future, lateness is unacceptable in this class. you should know this by now." the way he speaks is almost gentle, a lot more sweeter, as though he's simply just disappointed in you, but you know deep inside that there's more to his thiny veiled act of trying to parent you than meets the eye, a darker intent. you hate it, and you hate how you can't speak up, but you're grateful he spared you atleast some of his scolding, so you instead resort to simply nodding as zhongli goes back to teaching his class as though nothing ever happened.

-----♡

you spent the better half of your lecture worrying more about what was to come after than on the actual lesson itself. you refused to make zhongli's eyes, far too scared that if you were to make contact with his piercing ones that you'd lose all your resolve in an instant. time couldn't have gone by slower, but eventually, after what felt like days of waiting, the lecture was finally wrapped up for the day, and you watched as everyone shuffled out of the room except you and the professor himself.

"today's class felt longer than usual, hm?" zhongli attempts to joke as though to lighten the mood, but you don't dare to respond. you hear him sigh at the way you don't respond, accompanied by the quiet shuffling of paper as he makes his way to you. god, you want to be home right now.

"I wanted to talk about your performance in my class, [name]. please take a look at this," he slides a familiar looking group of stapled papers onto your desk, one that you hesistantly look at, only to wish that you had eyes at all in an instant at the sight.

you wish the world would simply swallow you whole at the sight of bright, red ink, showing a blaring '40%' at the upper right corner of the assignment you'd spent hours slaving over for, breath hitching in shock. you feel sick to your stomach, as though the red was the same red you'd see in the aftermath of a murder, only this time, the thing being brutally killed is your own ego.

you could've lived a good, long, healthy life without seeing such a ghastly sight.

"it's certainly not bad, but you could be... better. much better. I expect more from you. you know that. and I know you. you can do much better than this sloppy work you've been handing in lately." he speaks, shattering your heart word by word.

throughout your years at this school you've had your far share of lower grades, and you've always managed to take them with stride. this was different, though. every student knows that in all of the classes zhongli's teaches, anything less than perfect is practically a death sentence.

"but I..."

"no buts. I would love an explanation, however, if you have one to give me."

you don't have an explanation. you've been working hard just as you have since you started taking his classes sophmore year, so why are you suddenly now failing so terribly? you shake your head at himーthis must be a mistake. a big, big mistake.

"...you're on scholarship student, aren't you?" you nod your head, knowing full well that had it not been for the full ride you've been given, you wouldn't even be setting foot near this building, let alone this classroom. "you do want to keep attending this school, don't you? you'd likely lose your scholarship if you don't improve soon. we both know full and well how finicky administration are with grades."

you try your hardest to hold back tears as the papers in your hand begin to slightly crumble from the force of your grip on them at the sheer thought of losing the very thing allowing you to go here. one even goes as far as to fall, splattering against the once prestine white sheet, soaking in and feathering out and smudging the blue pen ink that you used to write your oh-so-unimpressive answers with.

you wonder just where exactly things went wrong; you had worked so hard on this assignment, how could it not be 'good enough?' most importantly, how were you supposed to impress him? wasn't your sheer effort enough? you gave it all of your all, but he still somehow wants more, though you're not exactly sure how much you have left to give to him.

he watches your form with pity. his eyebrows furrow as he bends down a little to meet your eye thats paying far too much attention to the floor beneath. a gloved hand takes your face in his palm, thumbing at your eyes so as to wipe your tears away, but it does nothing to comfort you.

"poor thing. this entire ordeal must be stressful for you.... perhaps you can have one of the teacher assistants help you. I'd suggest ganyu, but as of late, she's been busy, and I'd assume you'd be better off getting tutored by someone actually in the same course as you. you and xiao seem to be getting along lately, though I know he has a rough surface. perhaps you could melt through that barrier though. I can tell you can. I can speak to him, if you'd like."

you honestly can't comprehend his words with the way your pounding heart is much more louder than his soft tone of voice. your lip quivers as you attempt to meet his eye. you can't find the strength in you to reply.

"will you atleast consider trying to get into contact with him?" he asks after no response. you shakily nod, albeit hesitantly, and he gently lets go of your face at the notion, smiling lightly.

"good. it'd be a shame to see you lose the scholarship you worked so hard on attaining. make me proud, [name]. you've always been my star student. I trust that you and the extra help at your disposal will resolve this little issue you're having. you have my private number, correct?" you nod again, much to his pleasure.

"please contact me whenever you desire. I can set-up one on one time to make sure you're caught up to speed. now get to your other classes for me, okay? I'm sure you have a long day ahead of you."

'a long day' is an understatement, you think, because your day feels blue, moody, as dark as the clouded sky. you wonder briefly how you can cover up your frustration before anyone at your next class sees. you suddenly feel a seering hatred for the soft pitter patter that rings against the windows that seem to mock you and the fact that you didn't stay in the coziness of your bed today.

perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: gonna be home late, going to the library to study. start dinner without me

you: today sucked bad

venti: what's wrong?????? what happened???? come home please, you know I don't like you staying out after dark, especially when your upset

you: im okay. I think zhongli is the worst professor I've ever had though seriously

venti: did something happen?!?!?!? I'm sorry ): we can hug when you get home okay? and talk it out? whatever you wanna do.

you: yeah, thanks. actually kind of need that hug rn. gna go to the library

venti: okay, stay safe... call me?

you: can't. it's pouring outside so i have to go. see you soon though.

ーーー☆

you find yourself growing tired of this routine.

it wasn't a terrible one, not by any means, but the days are truly starting to blend in with one another. everyday, you wake up, go to class, pray your work is up to the hightened standards of professor zhongli (and all of the other freakishly stern teachers here, for that matter), study, go home again, and prepare yourself to it all over again tomorrow. if you're lucky, your roommate breaks your routine just a bit, forcing you through whatever shenanigans he deems fit for that given night. eitherway you were tired, desperate to forget about today's stresses. maybe venti was right; a party would take the edge off.

atleast your other classes, apart from one taught by professor dottore (which you luckily didn't have today), weren't as bad as zhongli's.

nonetheless, after hours of studying in the warmth and comfort of your campus library without interruption (minus the time when your two friends albedo and sucrose had asked if you needed any help, to which you declined) felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier and your energy strained, begging you to simply go home and rest for the night.

the train is crowded as expected, and almost all the seats were taken apart from a few that were just made empty after people got off the stop. you take it, too tired to stand for the rest of the trip home after the long day that you had. but honestly, you're starting to think that whoevers in charge of the universe is seriously playing a joke on you or something, becauss someone takes the open seat right next to you as you sit down, and it's the person you least were expecting to have to sit alongside. xiao.

he looks a little out of breath, as though he ran to catch the train. he makes no effort to even acknowledge the fact that you're seated right next to him as he plays music through his headphones. even so, xiao is a beaming light in the sea of tuxed business men who hate their jobs and gloomy faced riders tired of the long day.

quite frankly, you're lucky you even got a seat, even if it meant having to sit next to the man you cannot get out of your head despite how much you think he dislikes you.

the sheer crowdedness of the train makes it so that you're pressed flushed against him, feeling the emmense amount of body heat emitting from his body. if you were any less exhausted, you'd be freaking out right now from the proximity, and honestly, you kinda still are, but you're too tired to truly feel weighed down by it.

you actively had to fight hard from going unconscious right then and there from how tired you are. you really didn't want to fall asleep on the train, but god, today was just so long, and xiao (who still hasn't even so much as glanced your way) is so warm, and such a comforting presence, and your feet ache and you didn't sleep much last night and you'd do anythibg to just get some rest.

it's a battle you lose. your body shuts down after a few minutes of trying your absolute hardest to just stay awake until you arrived to your stop, eyes drooping closed as you fall asleep next to xiao.

as you fall asleep onto xiao, as it comes to be.