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blackopals-world · 1 day

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Chef!Yuu gets abducted by RSA students

Yuu goes to a club exhibition at RSA with the boys. The RSA students immediately believe Yuu is a captive princess.

"It's a big day boys and it's going to be warm today. Make sure to drink up and eat the snack bags I gave you." Yuu said putting down the last of their cooking tools.

Yuu didn't have a club to participate in at the club meet but after the boys said they wouldn't go to the event with them Crowley relented.

Instead, Yuu would set up a small food stall to show off NRC's food. Yuu had made sure to pack lots of personal meals for those participating in the event so they wouldn't go hungry. Yuu had no idea what the quality of the food was here and if they knew the dietary limits of their students so it was better not to risk letting the boys get sick.

"Yeah, okay. I need to get going. The basketball teams are having a short game now." Ace said eager to start showing off.

"Okay, let me just grab your lunches. Curry, hummus, and veggies for Jamil. Fried catfish, seaweed salad, and fried potatoes for Floyd. And a BLT, steak fries and one of my special cherry jubilee tarts." Yuu handed of the wrapped boxes to each of them before they left.

"Thank you again Yuu." Jamil said remembering to thank them.

"Now it's the track team. Jack has a steak sandwich, deer jerky, and pear pudding. Deuce had omelet rice, pigs in a blanket, and my blue razzberry tarts." Yuu said watching Deuce immediately scoop up his box and sprint off while waving with a big smile.

"Well bring back a trophy," Jack said sternly, his tail wagging.

Yuu continued to hand out food and snacks until everyone was gone. They eventually noticed that Malleus's box was still there with no sign of Malleus. Did everyone forget to bring him again?! Oh no...Yuu would make sure to apologize with banquet. He might be in a more forgiving mood after.

Yuu didn't want it to go to waste, especially with Grim going to watch the sports clubs.

Yuu didn't want to not watch everyone show off. The problem was that Yuu wasn't supposed to leave the stall. This wasn't fair at all. Yuu didn't like being all alone.

Unknown to Yuu the decadent smell of their food was spreading around campus. From a few of their friends opening their lunch early like Ace grabbing his tart, Ruggie eating his chicken, and Cater taking pictures of his kimchi-jjiga. Then there were those who were showing off their meals like Vil with his tuna tartar, Rook with his venison, and even Sebek of all people with his smoked salmon. It managed to get the attention of many RSA students who began asking them where they got their food. All of the boxes were wrapped in the same patterned handkerchiefs with a cat head with a knife and fork.

As fate would have it Neige LeBlanche stumbled upon a pouting Yuu sitting next to a small stall with a box in their lap.

"Are you okay?" He asked watching the lil'chef poke out their bottom lip cutely.

"Mmn, yeah. I just made too much food again." Yuu said not looking up.

"You have extra then. I don't mind taking it off your hands. I accidentally forgot my lunch again." Neige had not forgotten his lunch. He had fed it to his animal friends again.

"Really?" Yuu looked up hopefully, glad it wouldn't go to waste but- "Are you sure? It's probably not suited to your taste. I usually make these to the taste of each person."

"Of course, I'm not picky. I'm sure it's delicious." He said smiling taking the box from Yuu and sitting down to unwrap it.

The box was filled with a collection of different foods to sample. Malleus enjoys trying as many foods as possible so his boxes are made so that he can learn every food he likes and dislikes. Malleus wasn't picky either since he loved every food Yuu made.

"Oh my, there is so much to try." Neige took a moment to take a picture of the food. "Why don't you eat with me?"

"Huh?" Yuu said doe eyed and confused.

Cater skilled through recent posts on magicam when a new post from Neige crossed his view.

"OMG!!" He yelled standing up.

Lilia and Kalim jumped before looking over his shoulder.

Plain as day was a collection a photos of Neige and Yuu where their. Not just any photos, cutesy ones with hearts and birds.

One with Yuu and Neige sitting so close together they were thigh to thigh with a lunch box perched on their laps. One with Neige feeding Yuu a fork full of cake. Yuu looked so cute too. Then Yuu was doing the same and they looked so nervous and shy. This can't be happening.

Carted groaned in defeat at the amount of perfect couple shots was infuriating.

".....this has to be-" Cater broke out in a cold sweat. "A new relationship announcement."

Kalim and Lilia were stunned into silence.

Vil was getting impatient. Neige was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago. They were supposed to do a photoshoot for the event.

Rook sent him a message with a link. The moment he saw Neige with Yuu he almost crushed his phone.

"That bastard." Vil was dumb. He had been blocking Neige and Yuu from meeting since the beginning. Neige was too curious about where Vil's food came from whenever they worked together. After all Vil never ate on set and hated the catering so his sudden shift to eating food prepared by who he called "his chef" was always going to get Neige's attention.

Ruggie was growling up a storm as he waited for the next round to start. He had grabbed Leona's phone as messages popped up. When he saw some random RSA student with HIS Yuu. Like hell was he going watch some pretty boy steal his meal ticket.

No one takes advantage of Yuu's gullible nature but him.

"Hey, shortstack give him some distance this round," Leona warned Epel. He knew that Ruggie could get vicious on the field when he was in a bad mood.

Epel took a few steps away from Ruggie. He had never actually seen the hyena growl let alone sneer like that.

"I should probably get back to the stall. The others will get upset if I wander off." Yuu said half-heartedly. They was mostly referring to Grim, Ace, and Deuce. They tended to panic if they can't find Yuu.

"Why?" Neige asked his head tilted to the side like a puppy.

"They just worry I'll run off." Yuu said.

Neige could put two and two together. Vil was protective of his chef and from the comments under his post sounded like they didn't want him near Yuu.

Perhaps they were keeping Yuu with them against their will. Maybe Vil didn't know but the other NRC students wouldn't let them go. Vil was probably trying to protect Yuu by making them his chef.

"You poor thing. Don't worry! I'll save you!" Neige said grabbing Yuu's hand and taking them away.

"Huh?"

Yuu was very sweet but awareness wasn't their strong suit. They assumed that this was some sort of act. Yuu did hear that RSA students pretended to be perfect princes, that's what the others said. Yuu wanted to play along, after all they would never get another chance to pretend to be a princess again.

"Oh, are you going to take me away?" Yuu humored him as they giggled.

Neige looked at Yuu like they had hung the moon, a gentle princess who wanted to be saved by HIM.

Immediately he rallied as many other students as he could to bring Yuu into the school. RSA would have their very own princess who cared for others so much and made delicious food for even those that kidnapped them.

Due to the ruckus that was being raised the club events were canceled.

Each group ran to the now empty stall where Grim was crying into an apron that Yuu left behind.

"What happened?" Trey asked searching for Yuu.

"They have been taken captive by Neige and his friends," Grim yelled.

With that the group went up against a gauntlet of students traveling up the headmaster's tower before they successfully enrolled Yuu into the Royale Sword Academy.

Of for the moment they got to the top.

"It's dinner time. I'm glad you made it in time. You must have had alot of fun today." Yuu said cheerfully.

Yuu had commandeered the headmaster's kitchen and as always was sticking to their cooking schedule.

Everyone ended up having to settle down and enjoy a meal. Although there was still plenty of bickering and attempts to keep the fawning RSA students away from their princess.

Even after everyone returned to NRC Yuu would receive visits from dashing young princes wanting to take them away. This has resulted in traps laid across Ramshackle to keep them out. Not to mention a particularly miffed dragon that had his meal stolen.

#chef!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yuuniverse #neige leblanche #twst neige #twst rsa #royal sword academy

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beskarandblasters · 3 days

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A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Part Two of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Chapter summary: You have another encounter with Cooper in his trailer, proving that this is more than just a fluke.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: unspecified age gap, infidelity, reader is able-bodied, workplace romance, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, begging, praising, pet names (sweetheart), sir kink, mentions of food, no use of y/n

You don’t remember much of the drive home. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cruising down the highway. Just when you think the disbelief has left you, something reminds you of him again. Whether it be the wetness leaking out of you, his scent lingering on your skin, or the dull pain of where he nipped your neck. His scent only goes away once you take a hot shower, letting the physical remnants of your affair wash down the drain. But one thing remains; the shame.

That night your dreams are filled with him.

You’re not so sure if that’s a good thing.

You head to the studio in the morning with a pit in your stomach. You wonder how your work relationship with Cooper will change. Will you continue to eat lunches together? Will he talk to you? Will he even look in your direction?

Your daily routine starts like it always does– getting people’s coffee. Emil was right, you don’t need to write the orders down anymore. You leave for the cafe without talking to anyone, anxious for the moment you’ll see Cooper today.

When you return with the coffee, you save his for last, passing them out as the anxiety swirls through you; and then you lock eyes with him, blood running cold and your heart sinking to your knees. There’s recognition on his face but it’s different than before, it reads darker like a sworn secret. A language only the two of you speak. But then his face softens and he treats you as normal, accepting the coffee with his gracious smile.

Normal. Uneventful. Business as usual.

And then it’s time to shoot. You view his acting differently now.

At lunch you linger by the table of catered food, hoping he’ll ask you to eat lunch together again. But to your dismay, his wife shows up, waiting around by the table for him. You can’t bring yourself to introduce yourself; let alone even look in her direction.

But then Cooper appears out of nowhere, walking over to his wife first, of course. He pulls her in close by her waist, giving you flashbacks of last night when you were sitting in his lap. You can’t stand to be around the two of them anymore so you start to walk away.

Until he calls your name.

You look over your shoulder and he beckons you to come to him, same dazzling smile as always. Reluctantly, you walk over to them, standing awkwardly by them as Cooper says, “I never introduced you to my wife the other day. This is Barb.”

She smiles and holds out her hand but her smile is like she can see right through you. But there’s no way she knows… Right?

You introduce yourself and Cooper says, “She’s one of Emil’s new production assistants.”

“Congratulations,” she says. She leans into Cooper again and kisses him before saying, “I have to get back to work. See you later tonight.”

She bids you goodbye and leaves. It isn’t until she’s out of sight that you can start to relax a little.

“Why would you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Introduce me to her after what happened-”

“Shh,” he says, putting his hand on the small of your back and ushering you away. He takes you behind his trailer and says, “To pretend like everything is normal. She knows almost everyone on set.”

“So now what? Are we just supposed to carry on like nothing happened?”

“Right now, yes.” He takes a step closer to you and whispers, “But the second I get you alone, you’re mine.”

“Cooper!” you gasp. “Not now.”

“I know,” he groans. “I don’t think I can swing another late night tonight but maybe on Monday.”

“That long?”

“Believe me. If I had it my way, you’d be bent over in my trailer begging for me to fuck you.”

Fuck.

“But I suppose we should get back to set.”

“We should,” you nod, poking your head around the corner to make sure no one’s watching. You walk back to the soundstage, more flustered than ever with excitement brewing between your legs.

That man’s going to be the death of you.

As the workweek wraps up, you find yourself craving him. But not just sexually. You want to be held by him. You want to listen to his life stories. You want to just be with him.

And yet he spends his nights with his wife while you’re left feeling more jealous of her than ever.

On Saturday morning, you get a phone call, ripping you out of your pining. You pick it up and hear your friend Reina’s voice on the line, excited about something.

“Are you free this afternoon?!”

“I am. What’s up?”

“Let’s get lunch!”

“Sure.”

“I’ll pick you up in about an hour. I have something to tell you!!”

“Oooh, I’m excited. See you then!”

After getting ready for an hour, Reina picks you up, giddy and smiling like a kid. You’re barely sitting in her car before she says, “So I thought we’d get together to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well for one, we’re celebrating you and your new job.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“But I wanted to tell you in person that… I got a new job!!”

“Congratulations!! Where?”

“Vault-Tec.”

“Shit, really?? That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you!”

“I’ll be working in one of their labs. I start on Monday. I can’t wait.”

“Look at us, movin’ on up in the world,” you say as she pulls away from your place.

You go to a cafe in your neighborhood, spend a few hours doing some much-needed catching up. She asks you all sorts of questions about working on a movie set. A tempting feeling tells you to bring up Cooper but it’s against your better judgment.

Once you’re home alone again, the lonely feeling returns. You think about Cooper and what he’s doing. Maybe he’s spending time with his daughter. Maybe he’s at dinner with his wife.

…Maybe he’s fucking his wife.

God, the thought makes you sick. Isn’t that fucked up?

Whatever. All you know is that for once, you can’t wait for Monday.

Monday morning. Wake up. Drive to work. Grab everyone’s coffee at the cafe. It’s muscle memory at this point.

You hand Cooper his coffee and smoke innocently, asking, “Hey Cooper. How was your weekend?”

“It was alright. How was yours?”

“Not too bad. I’m excited for work today.”

It’s an innocent statement to the wandering ear. But he’ll catch your drift.

“You and me both, swee-”

He cuts himself off and your eyes go wide. He almost called you sweetheart in public. You playfully slap him on the bicep and say, “Watch it, Coop,” before walking away with a sway in your hips. You feel his stare practically burn a hole into you. You glance over your shoulder and look at his flustered stare; cheeks flushed and wearing a dumbfounded expression. You giggle and give him a playful wave, somehow even more excited for tonight than you already were.

You expect to eat lunch together like you normally do. But when it’s time to break he comes up to you and says, “Hey, I was thinking…”

And for some reason the cadence in his voice has you set up for disappointment.

“Yeah?”

He lowers his voice and continues, “If we’re going to continue this… thing we have going. I think it’s better if we stop eating lunch together. You know… to avoid any suspicion.”

What he’s saying makes perfect sense but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. You try your best to mask your disappointment, telling him, “I get it.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Don’t worry, you’ll have me all to yourself later tonight.”

“I know,” you nod. “I’ll catch you later.”

You force a smile and turn to walk to the parking lot. You’ll let your disappointment show there. Once you’re alone, you let the tears flow and feel fucking stupid about it. What he’s asking for is logically sound. You’re having a fucking affair with him for crying out loud. And not only that, he’s your coworker. This type of relationship is not one that he can flaunt proudly. And yet… You find yourself wanting that. But for that, you feel crazy. You’ve barely been seeing him for a week and you’re already developing the desire to be exclusive no matter how unrealistic and unattainable it is.

If anything, it’s a testament to your attraction to him, that it far surpasses just a physical connection.

Once shooting is wrapped up for the day, you hang back at the studio for a while, waiting for people to leave. Finally what you’ve been aching for for days is here. And you couldn’t be happier.

You meet him at this trailer where he quickly pulls you inside. He locks the door and immediately pushes you up against it, kissing you passionately.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Really?” you ask, followed by another quick kiss.

“You’re driving me crazy, sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about this all weekend.”

“I’m honored,” you joke. But you quickly drop the smug facade and add, “I feel the same way.”

Inhaling his scent reminds you how much you missed over the past few days. He pulls you over to the couch, sitting with his thighs spread in a wide, inviting stance. He pats his lap and beckons for you to come over to him. You take it a step further. Unlike last time when you just slipped off your underwear, this time you shed all your clothes.

His jaw falls to the floor as he takes in your form. Every beauty mark, scar, freckle, birthmark– you name it, he’s admiring it. The cool air in the trailer makes your nipples form into stiff peaks. You straddle one of his thighs, resting your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands holds your waist while the other caresses your cheek, brushing his thumb against your face. His calloused hand is a stark contrast to your soft skin. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of just being here with him.

“My pretty girl,” he says softly, hand migrating to your chin. Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you open your eyes. You meet his gaze and notice his pupils are blown wide, just like last time.

“You’re heaven-sent. You know that?”

“You don’t mean that,” you say, turning your head and looking away from him.

He grabs your chin and directs your head back towards him, telling you sternly, “Swear on my heart.”

You lean in and kiss him, wrapping your arms around him as his hand on your chin joins his hand on your waist. You roll your hips into him, your cunt rubbing against his thigh and creating a wet spot on his pants.

“So needy,” he teases, hovering over your lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” you whine.

“Poor thing,” he tuts, pulling back and looking at you with a smirk. He brings his pointer and middle fingers to your mouth and says, “Open.”

You oblige and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them like a good girl. But once you’ve done enough he pulls his hand away and teases your cunt. When he finally sinks his fingers inside you he caresses the outline of your breast with his other hand. Both hands work to build up your pleasure, one curling his fingers against your walls and the other taking your nipple in between his fingertips. You grip his shoulders harder, using them as leverage while you rock your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his fingers.

He silently watches you, in awe of you and your beauty. He doesn’t speak until you cum, letting out a strained “Oh fuck,” as your wetness runs down his hand. You cum with a string of soft moans and whimpers, aching for his cock to be inside you already. He pulls his fingers out of you and gives you a swift slap on the ass, “Alright, now get up. I meant it when I said I wanted you bent over.”

You move off his lap and bend yourself over the couch. He stands up and takes the opportunity to get undressed. He takes his belt and slaps it against your ass. Your nerves sting as the leather collides with your skin. He tosses the belt beside you on the couch, leans forward, and whispers, “And I meant it when I said I wanted you to beg.”

“Please fuck me,” you whine.

“You can do better than that.”

“I need you to fuck me, sir.”

“Sir??” he says, sounding taken aback.

Your stomach sinks, fearing that you said something to turn him off. Instead, he gathers the remnants of your spend with his hand, leans forward, and says, “Good girl.”

You feel his lubricated cock enter you, splitting you apart as your knees buckle underneath you. He holds your hips as he slams into you repeatedly, his cock hitting the most perfect angles inside you. Moans force their way out of your throat, filling up his trailer with your choked-up sobs. He slaps your ass and showers you with praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock like this. You hold onto the back of the couch for dear life, feeling your orgasm threatening to break loose.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

He leans forward and whispers in the shell of your ear, “Do it. Let me feel it.”

With one last thrust inside you, you come undone around his cock, wetness running down your thighs. He wards off his own orgasm, letting you ride out your high before pulling out and coming on your ass. You collapse against the couch, feeling the aftershocks of your eventful night. He grabs a tissue and wipes off the beds on your back. He lies down on the couch and pulls you into him, limbs intertwined and bodies slick with sweat. You rest your head on his chest and feel his wild heartbeat. He sighs, prompting you to poke your head up and ask, “Everything alright?”

“I just… I needed this.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been so stressed lately.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Barb works for Vault-Tec and I don’t… I don’t particularly care for them.”

“No? My friend works for them, too.”

“Oh yeah? What department?”

“She works in the labs. What about Barb?”

“I’m not even sure. Every day she tells me less and less about what she actually does there.”

“I see.”

“I just can’t shake the feeling there’s something more sinister going on.”

“With Barb? Or Vault-Tec?”

“Maybe both? I’m not sure. She wants me to shoot a campaign ad for them in a few weeks and I feel like I can’t say no.”

“An ad for what?”

“To advertise the vaults, I guess.”

“I just don’t get it… Do you really think we’ll have to live in these vaults one day?”

“I sure hope not, sweetheart.”

The uneasiness on his face is undeniable so you change the subject.

“Let’s focus on something else… We’re almost done shooting!”

“Thank God. This shoot’s gone on for too fuckin’ long…” he trails off. His face softens into a smile. “But at least Emil’s poor time management led me to you.”

“I did think it was weird when he hired me so late into the shoot.”

“Well, the rumor is the last production assistant got fired because he was a Commie.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You rest on his chest again, staring up at the ceiling of his trailer.

“Everything’s so uncertain lately… I hate it.”

“At least we have this moment together, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“You’re right,” you whisper back, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

You wake up with a gentle shake from Cooper. You open your eyes to meet his, expecting him to be frantic. But instead, he’s unusually calm.

“What time is it?!”

“About three in the morning.”

“Oh my God?! What are you gonna tell-”

“I’ll just tell her I fell asleep in my trailer.”

“Is she gonna-”

“Yes, she’ll buy it. I’ve done it before.”

You stretch and sit up while he gets up and grabs your clothes. The both of you get dressed before leaving his trailer. You’re still shocked you fell asleep for that long and you’re paranoid Barb won’t buy his excuse. He walks to your car, kissing you on the cheek before hastily walking to his own car. Part of you feels guilty for putting him in this situation. But it takes two to have an affair.

You go home and crash into bed, dreaming about him like always.

End note: I originally planned for this story to be three parts but it’s grown to four!! If you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment or shoot me an ask!! And thank you to @clawdee for beta reading!

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul x female reader #fallout #fallout fanfiction #time wondrous time

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owlphibiansprite · 17 hours

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the moment i started shipping kabumisu (spoilers ahead for chapters 45-62)

okay. this is gonna be a long one.

you'd think i'd be reasonable and start shipping these two characters from the moment they spend time alone in the dungeon, right? wrong. like the unreasonable guy i am, i saw them both placed a certain way and my brain went "shipped." let me explain.

chapter 45. this is the first time they interact. i wasn't thinking much at this point, but i just wanted to point out this frame because it looks damn cool (and i wanna maybe trace it on paper)

chapter 54 mithrun notices kabru has skill for the first time. at this point i didn't think much more than "oh he's looking at him."

kabru notices mithrun (or maybe he's just shocked about the water; i decided nonetheless to add this.) not much to report yet either on my personal feelings at this point.

and then this happens. first off i was thinking about kabru saving others without thinking but that's another subject. then i saw mithrun was LEANING BACK on kabru whilst between his legs and the gentle way he held his wrist for support i was like huh??! am i supposed to be getting homoerotic subtext from this? i was... intrigued. a little ship bell went off in my head, but there was no ripeness to it yet. not ready to be plucked.

like look at this in closeup please

then can we get this whole ass frame. where we clearly see how close they are physically. from that point on i thought "lol if this goes on i might crackship them haha blush" i mean their body position makes them look like they could be on a casual date (hands on thighs hands on thighs hands-)

and then THIS pat pat head yes good boy smart boy i see how you have excellent perception skills, let us work together to fight this monster do what i say now also just situationally i was kinda awed because not a moment ago they were kinda distrustful on edge but here immediately mithrun makes a plan involving kabru (no, not the other elves, but kabru) to take down the monster together & puts trust in him & idk i think two characters fighting together always feels intimate to me in a way (not necessarily romantic or anything); like characters are familiar with each other

"pat"

chapter 55 nothing special but i like the way they look at each other here even if there is no romantic or erotic tension or anything. maybe i just like the art of this.

i mean i know they're on a pillar but look at how close they are

just look at the way mithrun is being held and tell me that if taken out of context these images don't scream homoeroticism. and yes, this is the moment i decided to ship them.

(again, taken out of context) mithrun looks like the husband silently threatening whoever kabru is arguing with

and now this. this. look at this beautiful piece of art. look at how falin holds sissel(thistle). there is tenderness in that grip; protection. then above them you see kabru's self-protection in holding mithrun hostage yet the picture as a whole immediately made me think of "the lovers" archetype. duality. being held. idk. but seeing this was powerful.

mithrun tries to free himself from kabru's grip, the way he is held is constricing. yet if you changed the way you look at it, it could be perceived as holding on to a lover for dear life as you both tumble to your death. is that what the mangaka intended?? i am not one to usually read much into symbolism or stuff if i'm just casually reading - and i certainly don't know anything about art or literary symbolism - but all these thoughts immediately sprung out to me. these panels made me feel something so intense. (exquisite art, really!!)

so this is how i started shipping kabumisu. once i got to chapter 61 and realised "oh DAMN they will actually be spending one-on-one time together?" i was pleasantly surprised and knew i would not be alone in shipping them.

that is all :3 thank you for reading if you got this far!

#kabumisu #dunmeshi spoilers #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi #sprt.tag #meta #i guess #but also just ramblings haha #imagine how loud my ship bells were ringing once kabru was all 'no dear you need to take care of your body let me just remind you to go to #the bathroom and to sleep and all that'#mithrun

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ramen-writes · 1 day

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Prompt: The villian comes around the corner, sneaking into the hero's house while they're supposed to be celebrating with friends. Only to see the hero slumped against the wall, drunk.

-------------------------

The villian came around the corner. Only to see the hero all alone in her room slumped against the wall with bottles surrounding her.

"Wh- what are you doing?" The villain asks.

"Huh?" The hero raises her head to look at him. "Oh... It's you" she says sadly.

"Yeah it's me so get up and fight me" he says urging her to get up.

"Nahh let's just end it here, I am tired, you win I lose, happy?"

Confusion fills up the villain's face "N-no, not happy. See? I am not happy. What do you mean, what's going on? You always fight for this place and the people of it"

The hero hums "yeah I guess but it's not like I owe it to them" a hunt of resentment seeps through her calm voice.

"Wha- but you grew up here with these people shouldn't you want to protect them?"

"I can say the same about you too. You weren't the only one they treated like an outcast because of what you could do. I was treated the same way but when you decided to show up all powerful and mighty I had them choice to either join you and prove them correct or fight you and prove them wrong. I did what I thought was the right thing..."

The villain gapes and the hero continues "everyone looovves the hero until they get all up and close with them and realize it's not all fun", she goes to grab another bottle but before she can the villain quickly snatches it

"Hey!! I need THAT. How else am I supposed to act like everything is fine if I can't let it out in the solitude of my own home and drink my problems away" the villain sets the bottle aside, not listening.

" This isn't about the town's people is it. Someone close to you? Who? Viviana? Cobey? Never liked them, always thought they were kinda a weird duo to take up as a guard" the villain said clearing some of the tissues and bottles so he could sit.

"No it wasn't them" the hero mumbled out.

"Then who? I really don't think you are close to that many people" the hero hummed softly in agreement.

"W-wait I didn't mean it as an insult I just meant that there aren't many people who you trust... wait that doesn't make it better does it?" The villian winced.

"Well if it isn't them then who-" The villain's eyes widen as the realization sets in. "No..." He whispers and the hero just nods.

"Liam? How? He is the last person I would've guessed to be the reason for all this" he gestured to the bottles and pillows.

"He doesn't know that I am like this. I acted all calm and composed in front of him." She slumps "well I hope I did because otherwise I just seem like a sad lonely idiot"

"B-but that doesn't make any sense... Yo-you guys were in love. He was the only person I couldn't even think of trying to blackmail because he was so loyal to you".

The hero let out a chuckle. "It's not his fault really... Mostly mine for putting the kingdom and the people of it before everything else".

"Of course it's not your fault I just don't understand what happened". The villain says.

"He wanted to settle down, and I couldn't do that, he wanted a family and I couldn't give it to him, he wanted me to not put the city before everything else and I once again couldn't do it." she let out a sob. "I let something that took everything from me destroy the one thing I had left"

"Oh..." Is all the villain could let out. He didn't know how to comfort anyone or if he even should comfort her.

"The worse part is that he was so nice about it too" her voice cracks.

"He said that he couldn't do it, that he couldn't live like this when I put everything else before him. But he also said that it didn't mean that he wasn't going to be there for me. He said he would still be my friend and will always fight beside me" she let out another sob. "H-he wished me luck and said that he hoped that I could learn to put myself before the city... H-he said he would be there for me but that he can't wait forever and this is something I have to learn myself" by now she was full on sobbing.

The villain didn't know what to say or do. "You know...I had a similar experience too" he says. Where did that come from? Stupid.

But now the hero was looking at him with curious eyes. Those eyes wide, and for a moment almost forgetting the tears they had just shed. He sighed, it's not like she was going to remember this anyways and it's better than listening to her sob.

"She was the most talented and beautiful woman I had very seen. She still is..."

He glanced at her only to find her staring up at him urging him to continue. He sighed.

"She was the only on who understood me, she knew what I was going through without me even telling her. She didn't have her life any better than mine but she still went around with a smile on her face that made my day. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, the reason I decided to wake up every morning...and then I ruined it. I became this. Even after everything she did for me I knew I couldn't live like that forever and I didn't want her to have to either... But she didn't agree. She believed there was a better way. But I knew that was just hope and hope is dangerous. So as much I wanted to I couldn't let myself become the hopeful boy I used to be waiting for a day where everything would be fine. So I left..."

He finished and looked at her.

"that's not a good ending" she pouted.

"He let out a sad chuckle "No...it's not, is it? But I guess we can't always have a happily ever after" He glanced at her again.

Her bright eyes, the one that shined so bright everytime she smiled.

"Do you miss her? Do you regret it? does the pain ever stop?" Her voice cracked at the last sentence.

" Yes... I miss her every day" and he did but not because he didn't get to see her but because every time he did she acted as if she didn't know him, as if everything they went through didn't matter like becoming...this, erased everything else.

"And I do question if she was right. That if I hadn't become the villain everything would have been fine but I also know that that's just wishful thinking..." He sighed.

"The pain doesn't go away...well at least for me it didn't but it gets better over time. Surround yourself with the people who love you most and soon you'll understand that that's just how somethings happen. Unlike me you didn't lose someone, maybe as a lover sure but from what you told me it seems as if you aren't losing him as a friends or someone you care about and who cares about you." He says.

"What about you? Did you lose her?" She asked, her voice slightly more sober now.

"I like to think not forever" he said as a sad smile made its way onto his face.

That was one thing he let himself hope for, the only time he let himself be a little boy again and believe that one-day everything would be okay.

The villain let out a breath getting up.

"Let's get you cleaned up first alright?" The hero nodded as the villain helped them stand up.

The moment she was on her feet she stumbles forward. The villain caught her before she could fall. "Sorry... It's hard to walk after you just drowned yourself in..."

She squinted her eyes and looked towards the bottles "whatever that is. What is that anyways?" She asked.

The villain confused looked at the bottles and his eyes widened. "What the- you were drinking straight up hard liquor, no wonder you're like this. Come on I'll carry you"

#villian #tumblr writers #tumblr writing community #writers #writing #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #writeblr #ao3 writer #villian x hero #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #hero #superhero x villain

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pt2change · 1 day

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take my hand ; park jihyo

pairing: jihyo x reader

genre: bff!jihyo, female reader, fluff, eventual romance, wlw, men dni

word count: 1,410

[a/n: hmmm this can be seen as a part 2 maybe lol]

↣ jihyo masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. the music was pleasant to hear and the food was so delicious… better than a five star restaurant if you were being completely honest. the table centerpieces complimented the rest of the decorations. everyone was laughing and socializing or dancing.

everything at your brothers wedding was perfect.

except you just couldn’t help but stand alone, leaning back against the wall and watching it all unfold in front of your eyes.

it’s not like you weren’t uncomfortable or anything. you loved the dress your new sister in law had picked out for her bridesmaids. and you were torn between having your hair up or down for the event.

luckily, jihyo had helped you decide which style was better and helped with your make up as well.

the wedding invitations were sent out months in advance. jihyo was surprised she was invited considering the only person she was close with was…. well, you.

and with that, she wasn’t even entirely sure if she wanted to come. and it wasn’t until there was one month left that you found out jihyo had gotten an invitation and she explained to you why she didn’t want to go. that is of course, until you begged her for weeks and weeks because after all you didn’t want to be without your best friend.

“y/n!” you turned your head when you felt a familiar touch grab your arm. jihyo stood in front of you in a black maxi dress and she fixed some strands of her hair that were in her face.

finally….

“i’m sorry i’m late, the venue was further than i thought” and she looked at you with a big smile.

you blinked profusely before smiling back at her, you looked up and down at your best friends appearance.

“that dress looks beautiful on you, jihyo” you comment to her, but before she can even respond, you hear the dj over the speakers. “alright” the dj starts, “we hope you all enjoy the wedding, let’s give a round of applause to the newlyweds!”

everyone cheers as your brother and his wife make their way to the center and begin the typical wedding traditions.

an hour goes by and there’s people chatting and dancing all over again. and when the dj plays a slow song, men and women throughout the event pair up and make their way to the dance floor to begin slow dancing with one another.

you groan quietly… okay so you didn’t want to dance and especially to this music. but suddenly you hear giggling next to you, turning to find jihyo covering her mouth with her hand. you chuckle, “what’s so funny?”

jihyo clears her throat, “well, there’s no one here that i know besides you, and i really want to dance to this song. so, will you-?” you can’t help but giggle, thinking this one of those moments where she’s being sarcastic.

jihyo looks at you with doe eyes, “dance with me?” you’re taken back when she finishes her sentence, because she sounds genuinely sincere.

you’re not sure exactly what to say, you two would stick out in the crowd of people on the dance floor because 1. it’s a small event and 2. you were both girls.

combine that with the slow romantic song and the both of you slow dancing, people would assume that the two of you were dating. you weren’t sure what your family or other friends would think.

but then again, it’s 2024. the times of being shocked at two girls slow dancing is long gone.

you nod your head, “fine, but you have to take the lead.”

jihyo smiles, before putting her hand out for you to grab, “that’s fine, y/n. you know im wearing one of my shortest pairs of heels so you can reach.” you roll your eyes in response, “don’t make fun of my height!”

you hands connects with hers, and she pulls you to the dance floor. you place your hands on her shoulders, your fingers trailing on her soft skin. jihyo wraps her arms around your hips, but as the song goes on, she brings them up slowly to your lower back.

it seems like forever by the time the song comes to an end. you and jihyo find yourself at the center of the dance floor. you stare into each others eyes, before you both share a laugh. you link your arms together before walking off the dance floor.

throughout the entire night, you and jihyo dance whenever you can, taking breaks in between to head to the bar and ordering drinks.

you also noticed that the stares and whispers towards you both dialed down. in the end, you and jihyo didn’t care nor did you both put any attention towards it. you were both happy to be in each other’s presence.

it’s nearing 1am, when you and jihyo discover the upstairs balcony that overlooks the entire venue. jihyo fingers sneak their way into your hand as she pulls you up the stairs. when you get to the top, you both stand near the rails, watching as people danced or made their way out the venue to head home.

you suddenly feel jihyo’s head lean against your shoulder, you lean your head towards hers as well, letting out a sigh of relief.

your grip tightens around her hand, “tonight has been so fun, jihyo.” you laugh, lifting your head to face her, “i’m so glad i asked you to come.”

jihyo laughs softly, “y/n, you didn’t ask. you practically begged me to come.”

you shrug your shoulders, “asking, begging, it’s basically the same thing.” jihyo shakes her head in response, “i had fun tonight as well y/n.”

jihyo clears her throat suddenly, “you know when i suggested we should dance together, i wasn’t sure what your reaction would be-“ her breath shutters, “i was worried it would ruin our friendship or something by making you uncomfortable. but then you agreed, and it just made me so happy.”

you look at jihyo with such sincerity, “i was initially worried about what other people would say about us, but i decided to go against it. who cares what these people say about us?”

jihyo nods, before smiling at you and you both start laughing, the alcohol settling into your systems.

and then it happens.

when your laughter dies down, you both stare into each others eyes, both knowing what was next. and jihyo leans in, pressing her soft warm lips against your own. and you kiss back slowly and delicately. her arms wrap around your back, bringing you in closer.

when you both decide to pull away, you just stare at each other unsure of what to say. jihyo decides to break the silence and removes her hands from your back, “im sorry, y/n-“ she tucks her hair behind her ear, “im sorry, i don’t know what came over me. i just-“

you could notice tears forming around the edges of her eyes, her voice cracking as she continues to apologize.

“jihyo.” you say, inhaling deeply. “im not mad or anything,” you tell her in hopes that it would calm her down. and it’s the truth. you weren’t sure how to feel. you feel like the love you have for your best friend just changed, but in a good way. it felt nice.

“really jihyo, it’s okay.” you say softly, “it just caught me by surprise. you know, it all just happened so suddenly.”

jihyo nods, blinking to stop the tears from falling, “well what now?”

you thought carefully before answering, “we could try this… an us. or we can just go back to the way it was. but we don’t have to decide right at this moment. i like us the way we are, whatever that means.” you smile softly at her. jihyo mumbles a quick “okay” before smiling back at you.

“let’s go back down, the wedding will be over soon.” you tell her before you reach your hand out for her to take now, and jihyo grabs your hand as you make your way down the stairs together.

you reach the bottom of the stairs and you scurry to stand in front of her, “now- will you dance with me? i’ll take the lead.” and jihyo giggles before walking to the dance floor together and she’s placing her hands the same way you had done to her.

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larz-barz · 2 days

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ik that i was gonna draw out that idea i had for the Suzuki siblings angst but it’s not looking right so ima write it instead-

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Separated

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Warning(s)/info: Abuse, crying, attempted murder, Aika is @uponthefantasy’s oc, Milo and Michio are 3 and 6 at the start then 12 and 15 after the timeskip

Tagging: @bottlecapsandotherthings @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @haruharuna @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @pinkwisteria @nimmie-nugget @kimetsu-chan @slayfics @night-mince0 @frostburn-shoto

i apologize in advance

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Aika stared at her older brother in anger. “Haruki, leave her alone! She’s just a child!” She tries to help Milo stand after Haruki had roughly slammed her into the wall.

Michio helps his baby sister up and holds her protectively as their Aunt Aika stands in front of them, guarding both children from their uncle.

“Aika, move out of my way! She’s a demon and she deserves everything I do to her and more!” Haruki yells and Aika slaps him.

“She’s a yokai, not a demon! And even if she were a demon, she’s done nothing wrong at all! She deserves none of the things that you’ve done to her! I’m going to take both Milo and Michio with me right now!” Aika retorts as Haruki stumbles back from the slap.

Haruki pulls out a knife and swiftly grabs Milo and holds the knife to her neck and she has no visible reaction as she allows him to do this. “Do that and the disgrace will die right now. You can only take Michio.”

Aika tenses up. “Haruki. Put the knife down. Please.” She says seriously, slightly trembling.

Michio runs over and hits Haruki’s legs with his small fists. “Let Milo go!!” He yells and Haruki growls and cuts into Milo’s neck, causing her to scream and cry out in pain.

Aika immediately pulls Michio behind herself. “Please stop!!!”

He stops when he’s halfway through her neck and he shoves her aside as she goes unconscious.

Several weeks later, Milo finally wakes up, fully healed.

Michio sprints to hug her and he’s crying a lot. “Milo! Thank goodness you’re okay!” He cries out and Milo starts crying into his shoulder as she hugs him back, tightly.

After a few minutes, Michio breaks the hard news..

“M-Milo… I-I’m sorry… B-but… Aunt Aika is taking me to live with her today… I-I promise I’ll find you again one day. But until then… Here’s something for you to remember me by…” He sniffles as he grabs a bag that he’d left by Milo’s futon and she shakily takes it in her small hands.

Tears fill Michio’s eyes again as he watches Milo carefully pull the gift out, it’s a new purple bow.

She hugs him tightly as a silent thanks and he hugs her back, just as tightly. “I love you, little sis…”

“…I-I wove y-you too, b-b-big bwover…” Milo responds tearfully.

Aika gently knocks on the door to Milo’s bedroom. “Michio… It’s time to go…” She goes to hug Milo, crying.

“I-I’m so so so so so sorry, sweetheart… I-I wish you could come with us… I-I hope you understand why I have to leave you…” Aika strokes Milo’s head as she speaks and more tears pool up in her eyes when Milo nods.

Aika and Michio leave Haruki’s mansion in tears.

They may never see Milo again…

And they can’t take it…

They feel like if she were to die…

Milo’s blood would be on their hands…

~9 years later~

Milo smiles as she walks to the hashira meeting, excited to meet the newest hashira.

The 12 year old girl’s eyes widen in shock when she sees….

“M-Michi……” She whispers as tears fill her eyes.

She stops in her tracks as she stares at her older brother in disbelief.

Milo snaps out of her thoughts and sprints to Michio.

He gasps when he’s tackled to the pebbly ground by his little sister.

Michio immediately hugs her back and starts crying right along with her.

“I told you I’d find you one day, little sis….” He whispers to her as he rubs her back and cries into her shoulder.

The 2 siblings cried in each other’s arms for the first time in 9 long, agonizing years.

They’re beyond happy to be reunited with each other.

After being reunited, Milo and Michio wouldn’t stop clinging to each other.

They were just so happy to be able to see each other again.

Nothing can tear them apart now…

~the end~

*sobs*

#random posts from larz #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #teehee #meow #milo suzuki #larz writes #michio suzuki #the suzuki siblings #suzuki siblings supremacy #tragic siblings #oc fic #aika shineeza #moot oc

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flyingspicerack · 8 months

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im cooking something

#spice.txt #it will be burnt #no im not talking abt food #just trying to get back to normal i guess... havent done art in a while and working on something kinda... uh ... idk #genuinely worried that now i took another stupid hiatus everone legit hates me this time around #but im pushing those feelings faaaar awat goodbye #puts my head down and goes to be alone again #i hate being sad #oh also my period ACTUALLY showed up now so idk what last week was i thought it was that ....#ugh something wrong with me /neg

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ruler-of-turtle-kind · 2 years

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Okay, that's enough Magnus Archives for today.

#tma reactions #episode 144 #decrypted tma #it's leaving me feeling bone-achingly alone #but I know I'm not alone #but I feel like I am #and the argument between logic and emotion just goes round and round in my head #and I feel like I’m drowning in a whirlpool of anxiety #just round and round and round #and the overactive part of my imagination wants to use this as basis to convince me this stuff is real #but it's not real #it's fiction #why can't i have a normal brain #one that doesn't try to lie to me #maybe I need to put MAG down for a few weeks again #no. no I'll be fine. I just need to keep doing this. Keep reasoning it out #when you have a brain that lies to you you need to practice arguing with it #that way it gets easier to dismiss the lies #it's good I'm in a safe environment to do so with something that is clearly fiction.#frick I'm delusional aren't I?#why God did you deal me this hand? what purpose does it serve?

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cold-kitty · 2 months

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Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.

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Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that

Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.

Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.

Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.

Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.

Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!

Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.

Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.

Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.

Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!

Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...

Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.

Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...

Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.

Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.

Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.

Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.

Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!

Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.

Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...

Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.

Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.

Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.

Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.

(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)

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Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?

~🐈‍⬛

#yandere x reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x you #yandere #yandere merman #male yandere #yandere smut #smut

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toxicanonymity · 6 months

Text

stuffing.

5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Fic recs at the bottom. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race. He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up.

“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”

Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.”

“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.”

“Why can’t he do it?”

Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye.

Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away.

It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together.

Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy. You're still figuring out how that works. Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together. But what about when you're alone?

Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?

*******

Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire.

“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot.

Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed.

Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.”

“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot.

Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat. “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.” Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh.

Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head. “Close your legs, darlin'.”

Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”

But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy. For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer.

With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs.

Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm. When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”

Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.

Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.” You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes.

—

Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”

“Felt good, didn't it?”

You gave a small nod.

“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that.

You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place.

“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside.

Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you. You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again. Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed.

**********

Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink. Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.

Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles.

Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away.

—

Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts.

“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater.

Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.

Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles.

“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub.

“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”

“I wasn't.”

“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”

You swallow and look down.

He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”

“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”

“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?”

You barely shake your head, eyes still closed.

Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?”

You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.

He smiles apologetically. “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed. As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.

He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you.

You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard.

“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax. The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass. Your legs involuntarily part. He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more. His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube.

“Good girl.” The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture. He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile. He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him.

He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks.

You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line. “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.”

—-

You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece. The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?”

He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh.

You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue, “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .”

“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .” He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.” His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.”

His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters.

“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker.

A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms.

You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.

You nod.

“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.”

Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips. He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

—---

You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home. You feel more at ease with the two of them. Your mind drifts to Tommy. At this rate, you wish he would stay. You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open.

“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight.

You ask, “What are you doing?”

“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”

Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds, “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.”

You feel your body warming and opening up for him.

“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers.

Your heart pounds.

“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds.

“He did?”

“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him?

You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast. Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.

He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.

“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear.

“Good girl,” he whispers. You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?”

He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you. “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.”

After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his. Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.

Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair. Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are.

“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole.

“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter.

“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you. “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out. “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him. “We’re right here, baby.”

He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.”

With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple. You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more.

“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips.

His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”

“Please,” you whimper again.

“What's your daddy gonna think?”

Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”

“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”

He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust.

“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.” You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock.

He asks, “Little harder?”

“Mm,” you nod.

He slams into you and you moan.

“Yeah, that's our girl.”

Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you.

The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door. “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.

As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan. You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up.

—---

As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark.

“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.

Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.

“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”

“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts.

“Really?”

“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. . . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”

“Yeah,” you whimper.

“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers.

“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you.

You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan.

“Want yours,” you whimper.

“Shhh. You're gonna get it.”

You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm. When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock.

“Daddy, please,” you whine.

Joel sits down on the bed. Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you. You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.

Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you. Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”

“Not yet,” Tommy answers.

Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you. “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit.

Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?”

You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.”

“You’re takin’ it so good, baby. Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?”

You nod. Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way.

You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching.

“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm.

“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him. “oh—oh, God, baby.”

As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.

Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy.

Joel cups your cheek and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?”

You spasm with an aftershock. “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger.

“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.

You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing. “You aren't worried to stretch me?”

“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock.

“I dunno if I can,” you whine.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.

“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.

Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.”

Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close.

Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides.

“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in.

It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further.

“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”

“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”

“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up. The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.

“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?”

You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more.

“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch.

You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper.

Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”

Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?”

You nod.

“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.

“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back.

Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock.

“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover.

“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak.

You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”

“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face.

“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.”

He cradles your head and it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them.

“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss. He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over. You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's.

—--

You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly. Tommy falls asleep. Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock.

When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep.

—-

sequel here

Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.

Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.

I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print

And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey

-----

FIC RECS

If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are

I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated

Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,

If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.

More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.

If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.

More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.

Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲

#joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #uncle!tommy #uncle!tommy miller #daddy!joel miller #uncle tommy #uncle tommy miller

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riediaries · 4 months

Text

the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.

you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.

you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.

"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.

"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.

"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.

you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.

satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.

"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.

you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.

you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.

this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.

satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"

you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.

"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.

you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.

you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.

"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.

he hums, signaling you to continue.

"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.

as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.

"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.

"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.

he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.

it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.

he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.

"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.

"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.

"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.

giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.

"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.

"no–"

"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.

what a rough future you'll be expecting.

#rie.writes #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #girl dad gojo

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lovebugism · 10 months

Note

eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window.

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand.

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him.

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again.

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you.

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was.

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are.

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it.

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him.

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure.

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost.

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?”

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you.

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet.

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness.

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now.

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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phantomlifes · 8 months

Note

tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭

A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..

peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.

“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.

“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.

he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.

“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.

peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.

“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”

peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.

he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”

the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”

“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.

“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”

“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”

“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.

“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”

“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”

that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“

“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”

he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”

you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”

“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”

#PETER IS A MUNCH AND I WILL NOT BE CONVINCED OTHERWISE #tasm #tasm x reader #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter smut #tasm smut #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #buggy bf #my writing #notsfw

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emchant3d · 10 months

Text

It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week.

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it.

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger.

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing.

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?"

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep.

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching.

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

#steddie #steve/eddie #stevexeddie #eddie/steve #eddiexsteve #steddie fic #my fic #listen i was in the mood for steve whump and i won't apologize for it #don't worry there's plenty of eddie whump coming in part 2 i promise

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

miss sunshine

pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.

read on ao3 | masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.

When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.

Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.

Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."

Fuck.

Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.

His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.

They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"

Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"

Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.

What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.

His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.

You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."

He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."

"Any special occasions coming up soon?"

Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"

"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."

"Brainstorming...?"

"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."

You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"

The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.

You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"

"Always," he nods.

"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.

He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.

"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.

Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"

You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."

"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"

"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"

At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."

"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."

"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.

You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.

When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.

Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.

"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."

"Aren't those the same?"

"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"

"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."

"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."

"That's true."

"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"

That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."

I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."

Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"

Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."

"And that'd be a bad thing?"

"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.

It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."

You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."

"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."

Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."

His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."

"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"

Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."

"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."

"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."

Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"

"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."

Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?

"That makes sense."

Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"

Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.

"I'll let you," you answer.

Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.

"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."

"I'll leave the door open."

"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."

"Alright, jeez," you laugh.

It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?

When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.

It makes your brain melt.

Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.

He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.

It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.

For now.

"Brand new man?" you ask.

He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."

You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.

Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"

"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"

Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."

"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"

Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."

You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"

Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."

"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.

"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."

Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.

"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."

"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"

"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."

"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.

You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"

He pins you under his gaze.

You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.

"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.

Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."

It grounds you.

The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.

Joel talks about anything, no reservations.

In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.

Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?

He wasn't.

Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.

Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.

Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.

He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.

Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.

He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.

The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.

"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."

Joel was very attentive.

He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"

"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."

He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."

"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."

"Do you?"

"'Course. Most days."

"Oh my—"

"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."

It was easy.

Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.

He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.

In his skin.

That was intoxicating.

When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?

The first bottle end, but it's too soon.

You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.

Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.

You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."

"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.

The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"

"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."

"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."

"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."

"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"

Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"

"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.

Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.

When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."

"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"

"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."

"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."

Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."

"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."

Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.

It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...

Well, very few times.

Fuck, you think.

Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.

He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?

Once in Rome...

Fuck it.

It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.

The air outside could be felt.

When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.

He has the whole night free.

You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.

Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."

You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.

He moved his chair closer again.

"Do share," you urge.

Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."

You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.

Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.

"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."

"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.

"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."

"What did he make you promise?"

"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."

You take note of the effort he's making.

The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.

'I'll take you someday'.

'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.

So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."

Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."

You laugh. "Older and younger?"

"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."

"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."

He agrees with you.

When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.

He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.

Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.

It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.

Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.

Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.

It makes your throat dry when he does.

Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.

You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.

It's a welcomed contrast.

When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.

"Define 'like this'."

"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."

"Is that me?"

"Sure is, Sunshine."

None of the questions that people usually ask.

It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.

He pulled them from you.

When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.

Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"

Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.

"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."

Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"

"Really," he nods.

"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."

"Yeah? You made friends already?"

"A few, yeah."

"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."

"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.

Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."

"And I believe you," you nodded.

He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"

"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.

From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"

"Sure do," you nod again.

He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"

"I'm warming up to them," you smile.

Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."

"Ew, Joel," you laugh.

His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."

When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?

"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."

"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"

Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.

"You just didn't want it?" he echos.

You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."

"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"

At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"

Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."

"You are very far from boring."

"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."

Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?

"Why me?" he asks.

It's nothing more than a breath.

You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."

This was amazing already.

Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.

He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.

The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.

"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."

Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.

You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.

Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.

Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.

He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.

"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.

What could you say to that?

"You really haven't."

Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.

"Do I get a kiss, then?"

He would never have to ask you twice.

Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.

He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.

His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.

If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.

Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.

He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.

His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.

He wants to feel your body.

The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.

He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.

It makes you want to scream.

When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.

"Joel..."

Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.

You do as he says.

His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.

To not make a mess, it says.

Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.

"Is this ok?" he asks.

He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.

He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.

"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."

That gets to you.

Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.

It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.

You were right about the torture.

He enjoys it.

Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.

You can only cling onto his hair.

I dreamt about this, too.

"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.

His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.

Joel's only starting.

He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.

He eats.

Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.

That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.

Because it's good.

Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.

At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.

He pulls back for air, once.

His fingers enter you instead, two at once.

"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.

As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.

His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.

Joel looks like he could eat you like this.

"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.

"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Profanities.

That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.

It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"

He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.

"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"

"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."

All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.

No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.

Your vision whites out.

The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.

What a little death.

After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.

The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.

When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.

Nothing but black briefs.

You have to drop to your knees.

Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.

To him, you want to do only your best.

You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.

"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."

With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.

Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.

He shows you what strong body means.

"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.

"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.

He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.

"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."

"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.

He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.

Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."

"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."

You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.

Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.

A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.

"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;

And who are you to say no to that?

Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.

"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.

"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.

Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.

His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.

You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.

Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.

When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.

It's criminal.

Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.

The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.

You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.

So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.

"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."

There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.

Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.

Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.

"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"

You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.

He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.

He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.

It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."

It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.

Joel takes care of you afterward.

Of course he does.

Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.

"Just for a while," you ask.

He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."

Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."

"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."

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