Danielle was coming back from the showers when she saw the guard standing outside of her cell. “Can I help you?” She raises a brow him, walking inside to hang up her towel.
“Let’s go Brisby, you have been rented for the night.” The redhead turns to face him, a smile growing on her features. It was always a good day when she was away from here.
“Are you going to tell me who the lucky person is?” She was curious who it might be.
“Joshua Moore.” He stood there impatiently waiting for her.
The firefighter. She did love a man in uniform. Danielle knew it was going to be a good night and she was ready to leave. “Lead the way.”
It didn’t take long for them to get there and she was sliding out of the car and making her way up to his door, giving a firm knock. She could feel the eyes of the guard on her, knowing he wouldn’t leave until she was inside the place. It was always a good time with Josh and those blue eyes of his.
When the door opens she has a smile on her face and she leans up to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Hello Handsome. It appears I am yours for the night.”
@featheryears
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Starter | Muse: Joshua
Losing control was always his greatest fear, ever since that night at Phoenix Gate. Tonight was no different. He had transformed, after a terrible nightmare woke him in such a fright. Luckily for everyone else, this had been a night when they were quite far from the Hideaway, and it was really only his brother and few others way out here.
The sight in his dreams had been an awful one. The figure with four arms, and those cold unblinking eyes had been haunting him, taunting. Even during his waking hours it felt as though he were always being watched. Ultima had been bothering the lot of them, certainly, but never had it been this bad before.
Fiery wings flapped as he went higher and higher into the air, gasping for breath as though he were still fighting this feeling. Still running from those prying, all-seeing eyes. "Clive!!" He cried in his mind, and frantically looking around with the whipping of his long neck. Flames were all around, and to his horror, he realized half the forest was on fire due to his power.
@ifritmade
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baby, it's cold outside
day three of junkissed’s svt season’s greetings event
member — bf!joshua x gn reader
genre — fluff, comfort
word count — 1.4k
synopsis — maybe going skiing on the coldest day of winter wasn’t the best idea. but at least you have joshua to take care of you.
warnings — mentions of illness (reader has a cold), mentions of food, temperatures are in fahrenheit (sorry i'm american)
notes — lowercase intended, reader is implied to have longer hair
one reblog = one ski trip with the sexy gentleman
“i can’t believe you got me sick!”
"what did i tell you?" joshua frowns, his bare feet crossing the rug to where you lay across the couch. he hands you a mug of tea and you sit up, narrowing your eyes at him.
“i don’t wanna hear it,” you say, sniffling. you cradle the warm mug in your palms before bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. “it was your smart idea to go skiing in the alps during the coldest week of the year.”
“i told you to wear more layers,” he sighs, settling into the recliner next to the couch.
“but whose idea was it to leave the hotel when it was twelve degrees outside?"
joshua rolls his eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t have fun.”
you had enjoyed the trip, a much-needed vacation, but you weren’t about to admit it and prove him right. “see how well that worked out,” you pout, taking another sip of your tea before setting it on the side table and laying back down.
as you shift your focus back to the cartoons playing on the tv across the room, joshua studies you, fondly watching you pull your blankets tighter around yourself. the tip of your nose is raw from blowing it so much, and the trash can by the table is filled with balled-up tissues.
you’d had a cold ever since the two of you came back from your vacation last weekend. the morning after your flight home, you woke up with a sore throat and a nasty fever, and you’d been so sick you hadn’t been able to leave the house.
as the days trudged on, joshua had tried to distance himself from you to avoid catching whatever flu was going around, but he had still taken every opportunity to wait on you hand and foot. you had warned him not to get to close, but he insisted on doing everything for you, getting anything you needed and running to the store to make sure you were stocked up with gatorade and soup. of course he would go above and beyond to make sure you were eating enough and staying hydrated; it’s just how he is.
many bowls of soup and cups of tea later, you were starting to feel a little better, but the reason for that was more him than the medicine you’d been taking every twelve hours. you’d called the doctor and they’d confirmed you were no longer contagious enough to pass along your cold. joshua had welcomed the news, grateful to have the opportunity to get close to you without being afraid of getting sick.
what you were most excited about being better was that you would finally be able to sleep in the same bed again. you hated sleeping alone, not when you could have a perfectly good boyfriend snuggled up next to you every night. the bed was cold without him, and you’d never let him know this, but you kind of missed the sounds of his snores. he was only sleeping down the hall in the guest room, but it was too far away for your liking.
there were a lot of things you missed when you were sick. you hadn’t realized how much you took for granted until you didn’t have it anymore. you missed when joshua would help you wash dishes after a meal, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. you missed waking up next to him, curling your arm around his peacefully sleeping body before falling back asleep yourself. you missed cooking dinner together and having dance parties and singing karaoke until your lungs burned. you hated being sick, but most of all you hated how awful the both of you felt, unable to do the things you loved together.
“why are you staring at me?” you ask, your eyes finding joshua’s staring back at you, and you realized you’d zoned out thinking about how much it sucks being sick.
he smiles and stands up, the recliner rocking at the shift. “sit up for a second,” he says, walking over towards you.
you grab your blankets and sit up as joshua slips onto the couch beside you, the cushions sinking slightly with his weight.
he adjusts himself next to you, leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretching his legs out for you to rest your head on his lap. you lean into him, relaxing into the familiar feeling. he rests his forearm on your side, lightly wrapping his arm around you.
he gathers your hair, sprawled out beneath your head, and brushes it gently with his fingers, laying it across your shoulder. “is this better?” he asks softly, running his hand along your forehead.
“mhm,” you sigh, melting into his touch. you tilt you head backwards a little to look up at him and nod, pulling the blankets up to your chin. “better than ever.”
you stay like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, barely paying attention to the tv playing in the background. you realize you must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because when you look back up at the screen, the simpsons have been replaced by a football game. but it felt so good finally being back in joshua’s arms, you don’t care about missing your favorite show. you’ve seen every episode, anyway.
it’s late evening when joshua finally gets up off the couch, sliding out from underneath you to stretch his legs. he wanders out of the room, and you crane your neck to watch him enter the kitchen. soon you hear the clanking of pans and the fan above the oven, and a little while later he returns with a bowl in his hand, steam rising from the surface.
you drag yourself upright, making space on your lap as he carefully hands you the dinner he made. “what kind this time?” you ask, peering into the bowl.
“chicken noodle,” he says. “sorry, it’s all we have left. i’ll run to the store tomorrow.”
you swirl your spoon around the bowl, waiting for your soup to cool off a bit. “no, it’s fine, i like chicken noodle.”
he sits back down next to you. “we need groceries anyway, i’ll pick some up on my way from work tomorrow. write me a list if there’s anything else you want while i’m out.”
you bring a spoonful of broth to your lips and blow gently. you never have to ask him for things like this; he always just does them. he always seems to know exactly what you need and when you need it.
you take a sip of soup, the warm liquid soothing your throat. “thank you.”
he smiles. “of course, baby.”
as you eat your soup you watch the sun fall lower and lower through the window, the evening quickly growing dark and turning into night. joshua gets up to plug in the strings of lights draped across your fireplace mantle, and instantly the room fills with bright, colorful pinpricks of light.
you glance up at him standing in front of you, holding out his hand to take your empty bowl. “i can do it,” you say stubbornly, moving the blankets and starting to stand. but you stand up too quickly, and a fit of coughing overcomes you and forces you to sit back down to catch your breath.
he gives you a look. “c’mon, baby, just give it to me.”
you scowl and hand it to him, feeling bad at the fact that he’s cleaning up for you and at the fact that you were unable to do a task as simple as taking a dirty dish to the kitchen.
he reaches down to rub your shoulder with his other hand. “i’m sorry you’re sick, sweetheart,” he says. “if there was anything i could do to make you better faster, i’d do it.”
you sigh. “i know you would, joshua.”
he leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead, giving you a smile as he walks back out of the room. you can only hope you’ll recover as soon as possible, so you can spend the holiday season with your love without this stupid cold.
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