#( the truth that he sends it to the wrong person

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

THE WAY I LOVED YOU — PREMIERES @ 15th JUNE SUN 0000 KST

Years after a quiet, painful breakup, you are assigned to write a profile on South Korea’s most elusive figure skater, Park Sunghoon, who just so happens to be your ex-boyfriend. What was supposed to be a byline quickly spirals into a collision of unresolved feelings, buried emotions that are edging too close to the surface, and the slow thaw between two people who once meant the world to each other. With every step you take back into his orbit, the line between story and truth begins to blur—and the version of him you thought you knew starts to unravel.

word count: est. 30k

pairing: figureskater!ex!sunghoon x sportsjournalist!afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, sunshine x midnight rain, second chance romance, right person wrong time, opposites attract, slow burn, ANGST

taglist: open! comment, send ask or submit the form on my profile to be added!

notes from nat: god forbid i don't reference a taylor swift song in my stories. someone needs to stop me /hj. just a short(?) one to angst farm before I kick off another series ^.^

TEASER

The office is louder than usual for a Monday morning. Keyboards clatter like a percussion ensemble, and the faint hum of printers competes with the buzz of hurried conversations. The aroma of coffee lingers, sharp and bitter. You sit at your desk, staring at your laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard but typing nothing.

Your new assignment email glares at you with a subject line you never thought you’d see: "Profile Piece on Park Sunghoon."

Park Sunghoon. Even his name feels heavy in your chest.

Memories surge to the surface—his laughter ringing through late-night phone calls, the sparkle in his eyes when he spoke about skating, and the tension in his voice during those last arguments before everything unravelled. It’s been years, but the ghost of him lingers like a song stuck in your head.

“Y/N, you’ve got the Sunghoon piece, right?” your editor, Yunah, calls out, snapping you out of your trance. She’s a whirlwind of energy, dressed in a sharp blazer with a coffee mug permanently glued to her hand.

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your voice wavers slightly. “I’ve got it.”

“Good,” she says, striding over to your desk. “The story’s got legs. Everyone’s buzzing about his reappearance and return to Korea. Olympic dreams, media darling, potential scandal… you’ve got to dig deep on this one. Make it personal.”

“Personal?” The word makes your stomach churn. “Isn’t that more tabloidy than what we’re used to?”

“Sports tabloids pay the bills, sweetheart,” Yunah says with a shrug. “And you’re the perfect person for this. You’ve got the knack for human stories, and Sunghoon’s story is nothing if not human. Besides, you went to the same university, right?”

The question hangs in the air, deceptively light. You hesitate for a moment too long, and Yunah’s brows lift, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “Ah, I see,” she says teasingly. “Well, use it to your advantage.”

Of course. You forgot you're surrounded by people who read body language for a living. There’s no hiding anything from her.

Yunah walks away before you can respond, leaving you with the sinking realisation that she’s not entirely wrong. Who better to cover Park Sunghoon’s meteoric rise—and whatever personal demons he’s carrying—than the girl who once loved him?

By lunchtime, you’ve done enough digging to know exactly what you’re up against.

Sunghoon’s name is everywhere.

His face—still frustratingly photogenic—plastered across articles, feature spreads, and fan-edited clips with dramatic music overlays. They all show a polished, confident man, far removed from the awkward boy you used to know. His dark hair is perfectly styled, his tailored suits scream sophistication, and his trademark smirk has only grown more enigmatic.

You scroll through write-ups that gush about his triumphant return to the ice. They speculate whether he’ll qualify for the next international season, drop cryptic mentions of a “new fire in his eyes,” and cite sources that can’t seem to agree whether his hiatus was due to injury or personal issues. Or both.

There are whispers about a reality show stint during his time in Spain—something lowkey, never officially aired, but leaked through blurry screenshots and strategically placed fan theories. A training arc in disguise, if you had to guess. Classic Sunghoon: disappearing, reinventing, and re-emerging like nothing happened.

And now? He’s starting to make headlines again.

Which makes sense, you suppose. He hasn’t been in the public eye for months. Not since that withdrawal from the Grand Prix final. Not since the buzz about that infamous tussle—the one that sports reporters avoided naming outright but loved to allude to. The speculation only made him more mysterious. More magnetic. The kind of story that writes itself: the fallen star, re-forging his crown.

Yunah’s right—the story’s got legs. You just wish you weren’t the one chasing it.

You stare blankly at the screen, lips pressed together as your cursor hovers over yet another article about him.

You were supposed to be over this.

And yet, you can’t deny the tightness coiling in your chest—not jealousy, exactly. Not regret, either. Just something far messier. The kind of feeling that comes from watching someone you once loved be glorified by the same world that never saw the nights you spent waiting for him to call. The world that didn’t witness the quiet crumbling of a girl who poured so much of herself into someone who didn’t know how to hold it.

You slam your laptop shut.

If he’s back on the ice, fine. Good for him.

But you’re not the same girl who used to cry over his missed calls and make excuses for his silence. You have a job to do. A byline to earn. And if this rink ends up being his comeback stage, then so be it.

You’ll be there—not as the girl who once loved him, but as the reporter who can write his rise without flinching.

The first step is setting up an interview, which means reaching out to his management. This whole thing could very well end here. You’ll send the email, Sunghoon will reject the request—just like he does with every other news agency or tabloid that thinks they can score an exclusive interview with him. Yunah will realise you’re not some journalistic prodigy, and she’ll move on to the next big headline.

That should comfort you. When Sunghoon says no, it’s over—no awkward reunions, no dredging up memories you’ve spent years trying to bury. And yet, you hesitate, fingers trembling as they hover over the keyboard.

The email stares back at you, every word perfectly composed, detached, professional. It doesn’t betray the tangle of thoughts fighting for dominance in your mind.

Subject: Interview Request for Park Sunghoon Profile Piece

Dear Ms. Yoon,

I hope this email finds you well. My name is Kang Y/N, and I’m a journalist with Manifesto Daily. Our team is planning a profile piece on athlete Park Sunghoon, focusing on his inspiring journey as a professional athlete and his return to Korea.

I would like to request an interview with Mr. Park to discuss his career, his aspirations for the future, and any personal insights he’d be willing to share with our readers. The piece aims to highlight his achievements and provide a deeper understanding of the person behind the athlete.

Please let me know a time and date that would work best for Mr. Park’s schedule. I am happy to accommodate and can meet at his convenience. Should you require any further details about the story or our publication, please don’t hesitate to reach out.

Thank you for considering this request. I look forward to your response.

Best regards, Kang Y/N Senior Journalist (Sports Division) Manifesto Daily +82 XX XXXX YYYY

Highlight his achievements and provide a deeper understanding of the person behind the athlete. You scoff. As if you don’t already have enough material to craft an in-depth exposé on Park Sunghoon—complete with anecdotes, vivid details, and a treasure trove of receipts that you’ve kept buried at the back of your mind, and perhaps in a folder on your computer.

You know the kind of person Park Sunghoon is. You’ve seen him at his most passionate, the fire in his eyes when he spoke about mastering a new routine, and at his most vulnerable, when doubts about his own abilities kept him up at night.

You’ve also witnessed him at his ugliest—those moments when he seemed completely disinterested during your calls, only for you to catch glimpses of him laughing unabashedly in his training mate’s Instagram stories. When he sent curt, dry texts that cut to your insecurities, leaving you questioning if you were the problem. And yet, now here you are, facing the daunting question: Who is he today? A polished media darling, exuding poise and confidence, or a jerk who simply broke your heart?

You’re not just writing a profile; it’s about untangling the complexities of the boy you once loved and the man he has become, all while confronting the version of him that’s lived rent-free in your head for years.

When you finally hit send, you lean back in your chair, exhaling deeply. It’s done. Now all you can do is wait.

[heesmiles]

This has to end and it has to end now. This is disgusting and it's gone way too far. This is becoming bigger than tumblr and bigger than me. I won't stay silent and I won't stand for it anymore. You want to know the full none bullshit story let me tell you. because NEWS FLASH; some of your favorite writers on Tumblr are fucking bullies and they're relentless.

You don't take a single fucking second to recognize what you do and how it affects people.

So here it is.

I met lia sometime around November December. Through my friend Serene. Lia had blocked serene for no reason but in an attempt at righting her wrongs she unblocked serene. Serene got a ghost message of literal proof of Lia talking badly about her in a discord chat from previous friends.

Lia "apologized" it wasn't an actual apology because she deleted it before serene could see and serene had to ASK her what the notification was. Then Lia felt inclined to apologize to her.

Serene was my friend and I was upset at the situation, so I took it upon myself to speak badly about Lia out of anger. Which I've admitted to time and time again. We spoke about her in a discord server with other people including liv and Jjae. Liv didn't speak badly about Lia, I will admit that. but Jjae most certainly did. Here is SOLID PROOF of jjae ADMITTING to sending Lia hate asks then saying "but I should nice ones to balance it out."

I nor have my friend EVER. sent a hate ask to Lia. and since you claim to have the proof I urge you to SHOW IT. Post the screenshots of me saying "I sent Lia a hate ask". that's right you can't because IT NEVER HAPPENED. I said whatever I said about Lia in my group chat and my groupchat only. but so did EVERYONE else.

Lia and Kipo actively searched through my friend group to "collect" evidence on me and they found NOTHING. until Jjae and *blank* people who for MONTHS made my life a living hell in "make it chewy" (our discord server). JJae has openly admitted time and time again that he does not like me out of the sheer fact that he's jealous of my friendships with cam, serene and ash. friendships that he was more than welcome to be apart of but refused to make the effort.

He ignored me in chat. everyday all day. made small jabs at me, which he admitted to doing. all of these things he has openly admitted to doing. I tried time and time again to be his friend but he wouldn't let me. I WAS FED UP.

Make it chewy started to die out. The chat was quiet, we just weren't clicking anymore and suddenly. I'm gone from discord, tumblr the entire internet for three days. Make it chewy was silent. because for those three days I was in the hospital for attempting to take my own life. I told no one. I didn't want attention, I didn't want people to come to me and talk to about it. I didn't want that. So fast forward two like a day or two after I come back. were finally semi talking in make it chewy again and jjae decides he needs to bring up something thats been bothering him and liv. fine, were all friends here lets do it. He says "Serene is doing her makeup, ash and *blank* *blank* are away." so that left me and cam. but then *blank* says "cam this isn't about you." so who does that leave? me. they essentially attacked me. saying we ignore them, that we go off and do our own things. which was so fucking hypocritical of them. *blank* and Jjae are tight, they're best friends but never once have I been jealous of the friendship. never.

I was backed into a corner. forced to tell them why I was gone for three days. It was the most genuinely disgusting thing I had to go through, not only was I broken inside but I had to sacrifice my privacy in order to defend myself. if you think something like this is ok, you're just as sick as them. We all apologized and I thought we had moved on.

Until a few weeks later. Make it chewy is dying AGAIN. we just weren't clicking anymore dude like I don't know how else to put it. me cam and ash had an iMessage gc since serene was focusing on school and didn't want to be on disc anymore. but we had an idea for an event for txt. so we posted it.

jjae did not like that. he claimed we were not excluding him which we said wasn't our intention at all. Jjae had expressed recently that he was SWAMPED in school work and super busy. We didn't think to ask him because we didn't want to bother him with it. That was what fueled the down fall and eventual deletion of make it chewy. we couldn't get along anymore, so it had to go.

After make it chewy was deleted Jjae messaged serene and admitted to knowing he was being horrible to me. he said he was jealous that he felt like I was "taking them away from him" but he did that all on his own because he can't respect boundaries. he's weirdly obsessed with serene. we all knew he had a crush on her. I had to empathize that I was STRAIGHT to him because he claimed I liked her too. I do not.

am to claim that cam would do anything AT ALL. then you don't know her at all. she is the sweetest nicest fucking person I've ever fucking met. don't make it out to be things she's not just because she didn't agree with what you did in make it chewy.

so, make it chewy died and we gave up communication. Jjae said he was leaving Tumblr we left it at that.

I started to be friend Kipo and Lia more. I genuinely liked them and their friends. but we had a small falling out due to the previous huge event we were apart of. Which I admitted to be pushy with them about. and they felt rightfully offended over my lack of empathy on why the event was stressing them out. I apologized, I left their server and we all agreed we needed time apart. it was cordial.

then a few weeks later things in my life were shifty, everything was going wrong. Then one of my best friends commits suicide. I was distraught I started thinking about alot of things and one of those things was the stuff I said about lia. so, I came clean to her. I told her that I talked badly about her and that I was sorry for it. She "forgave me" told me that it would be HYPOCRITICAL of her to not do so. okay, perfect I felt like eveything was fine. I went to Lia to tell her about what I did with the BEST intentions, not to manipulate her like they claim.

I rejoined kipo's server and it was great. I loved her friends. we vc'd for an entire day and watched enchella. then, kipo and some other people in the server received a hate ask about me. and I told them whatever they wanted to ask me they could; and I meant it. Kipo even messaged me and asked me if I was ok, she told me "I'm not going to ask you what happened." even though I gave her the go ahead.

the next day, I'm kicked from the server. of course i'm upset. anyone would be. I embarrassingly crashed out on my page about it but deleted everything. I was hurt so I decided to unfollow kipo and her friends and I even said, it was not out of malice but I wanted an away from them. I was HURT.

a few days later I stumble upon asks that kipo is getting about her being entitled and her not getting engagement. I felt bad for her so I messaged her and told her that I admired her and her work. I was completely ignored. I said, okay fine. and I went about my day. a few days after that I said you know what, I love kipo's writing I genuinely want to keep up with her works let me re follow her even if she wishes not to follow me back.

I get a message from her . she says she's tired of the back and forth and asks me what's up. I tell her my view on the situation and how I was hurt. Kipo responds with the most hostile and quite frankly disgusting tone. she alludes to me sending hate asks and me gas lighting her. I told her I NEVER. sent her or her friends a hate ask. I wanted so fucking desperately to end this fucking feud between us. She turned around and said "I never alluded to you sending hate asks"

what? be so fr. she said that it was "suspicious' the way I apologized to Lia. how? don't know. and yes, a few days after when Lia messaged me and asked me "who else saiid things about her." I lied, because I was not going to out anyone else but MYSELF including JJAE. it was my confession and my confession only. then she said to me "Did anyone else send anything." to which I asked her to clarify. she could have asked me right then and fucking there if I ever sent her a hate ask and she chose not to. instead she said "never mind, no worries." I blocked lia because she openly accused me of copying her HARRY POTTER idea, and when I messaged her to clear the air she sent me a fucking thumbs up. so I removed her from seeing me. as I'm entitled to.

Kipo and I ended the conversation. I thought everything was over. but they continued to follow and refollow all my friends who were in my server, messaging them, texting them. it was weird, they made cryptic posts on their blogs and still I ignored them. they received hate and just KNEW??? It was me?? what? because someone was very fucking obviously trying to act like me?

this is cringy as fuck. and I joke about being "famous" but would never actually say it in a serious setting. whoever sent those know me and know how I talk. it's fucking sick.

so, they searched for people and searched and found *blank* and jjae people who actively fucking hate me. who we have GENUINE fucking proof of sending hate asks.

You want to mention HP. and say I sent her an ask saying "no one cares about you." FUCK YOU. I have NEVER done that. I have never had a conversation with Hp. we never even followed eachother. why in the fuck would I send her anything. The one and ONLY thing i've ever said about HP is that the world doesn't revolve around her. that is literally fucking it.

You guys can say I won't leave you alone, but i've tried. you just won't stop. talking about me. you just won't give it a rest. it's disgusting. look at you, ranting and raving while we have stayed SILENT. but you won't give up.

you guys are the reason people don't want to get up in the morning. are you happy now? that you've given me such anxiety and just straight fear because you two are relentless.

I did not deactivate to say I'm guilty. I deactivated because I'm raising my white flag. I'm fucking done, you win.

If you think my claims of contacting my lawyer are fake or to intimidate you then you're wrong. because of your harassment and online bullying, that is a crime. I won't be responding further but how about everyone read this and decide for yourself. I have had MULTIPLE people tell about their encounters with Lia, all of which I ignored. but they will use ANYTHING to fuel their hatred for me.

I was also like to mention that there is a post going around claiming that I was exposed on "hmusunoo" thats not even true. I deleted hmusunoo because I had 3k followers and no engagement besides hate asks. Which is the same reason kipo and Lia deactivated their own accounts.

I was accused of using Ai just DAYS after they posted about people using Ai. I have received multiple asks that are clearly someone they know or even them. but I cannot confirm those of them because I HAVE NO PROOF. see how that works?

so yeah my silence might be deafening but I am a better person then you, lia. no matter what you believe. you're rotten inside. you cannot change that. you wanted me to speak up so badly, here we are. You're just as much of a bad person as you claim I am. If not worse, you get off on this shit. it excites you. it does not excite me. it disgusts me.

I do not claim to not be in the wrong. I am, and I have said and did things I am not proud of. but I am NOT this nasty disgusting person they are making me out to be. if you think you're going to say what you want about me and I won't respond then you're wrong. the LAST thing I wanted was to bring this to Tumblr but I was forced to. I was more than willing to let this go, but you guys cannot so once again I am backed into a corner and forced to do something I don't want to do.

I have nothing to hide. ANYTHING you want to say I did and if I ACTUALLY did it, I would say that. I would admit to it, because why would I hide anymore. but I will NOT admit to things I didn't fucking do. that's the last fucking thing you'll get out of me. I have and will openly admit to the things I've done and the people I hurt. because I'm sure Lia and kipo especially are also hurt by this, but I won't do this anymore. I'm so fucking tired.

each time in every message you're about to see; you will see nothing but me trying time and time again to DEFUSE the situation and I am met with disgustingly hateful responses. They claim to want to end it but contacting all my friends? connecting with people who hate me? You do not care about FACT. because If you did; you would not take jjae's words as fact. if you actually cared about the truth you would TALK TO ME. and demand actual fucking proof, but you don't. you only wish to push the narrative that I'm this horrible person and do anything to push it. you do not actually care who sent you hate asks as long as It looked like me; thats all you needed. You're not credible at all. and neither is jjae of all fucking people. let's be real.

I thought sat on this post for hours and hours because believe it or not I don't want to do it. I don't want to make anyone look or feel bad, but it gets to a fucking point. When I say enough is enough. when it has to end, and this might be furthering it. whatever, but I won't respond further but I also won't let someone continuously paint me out to be something I am not. I won't allow someone to lie.

Kipo and Lia, you were lied to. by a manipulative person. and for that I'm sorry. I'm sure you will see nothing wrong with what you have done and thats fine, but just know I have seen what I've done wrong and I acknowledge it. but this is too far and its unfair.

If you believe these claims, then I really do feel sorry for you. You're being manipulated and lied to. I'm sorry.

I Feel bad for kipo, she is being misguided by a hateful person.

here is all the things I have and have compiled.

Karma is fucking real.

This is the last thing I will say about this ever. if they respond I will not be. I will be the bigger person here. but will also not allow defamation of my character and who I am.

I don't have any messages of me saying anything, but I will not lie and say I did not engage, I most certainly did.I am only doing this to show how much of a non credible source jjae fucking is.

in truth, the only thing I want to say is I truly and honestly only wish for healing for everybody involved. and I mean that from the bottom of my fucking heart. I do not wish bad on a single person involved, not one. I only wish we can heal. if you think what I'm saying right now is bullshit or fake to make myself look better than, I really don't know what else to say. I can only stress how sorry I am that it got this far and how sorry I am that it escalated like this. I didn't wish for that, not even a single bit. I think emotions are high and it's the lack of clear communication and too much of us trying to get back at each other. I am here to say that no matter the ending of this, no matter the result of this post I wish you all the best in your endeavors in life. I wish you all healing. this hurts way too much. Thank you.

I am tagging people because I have no one on this account. if you wish to not be tagged, well then block this account. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, but this is important.

[mysteriousxgirls]

Liyana wasn’t angry. Not really. Anger would’ve been easier—cleaner, sharper. But this? This was something messier, heavier. Frustration knotted in her chest like a tightly wound thread, twisting with every breath. She didn’t understand how he could think she was lying—why he’d think she’d ever make something like this up. She had no reason to. No motive, no gain. Only the truth she had clung to all those years, believing it had just gone unheard. She was already walking away, heart beating too loud in her ears, when she felt it—his hand closing around her arm. Her breath hitched sharply in her throat, chest freezing mid-inhale. His touch wasn’t rough, but it pulled her back—physically, emotionally. Closer to him. Closer to the thing she’d been trying to escape since she stepped out of that booth. She turned to face him, heart pounding now for a different reason. Her eyes searched his, saw the storm in them. And then he spoke, voice low, almost hoarse. No blame. Just disbelief. Hurt, tangled in every word.

Her own voice broke before she could fully control it. “You’re saying I’m lying?” she asked, staring at him like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That I didn’t pour my heart into those letters just for you to never receive them?” The words tore out of her, shaky and raw. She’d written to him in the quiet moments between auditions and exhaustion, on trains, in tiny apartments, under dim lights with trembling hands. She’d bled into those pages, thinking of him, needing him to know she hadn’t forgotten. That he still mattered. Back then, she had no one. No manager, her parents still living in Medellin. She had no time, no structure—just hope. That was when Ryan came into the picture. He was her friend at first and when things got overwhelming, she’d trusted him to help. She had asked him to send the letters. She remembered the way she’d handed them over, one after another, sealed and scribbled with her heart in every word.

But what if... what if they never made it to Diego? Her breath caught in her throat. Her voice dropped to a whisper, more to herself than to him. “Fuck… I—I think Ryan never sent them.” The thought staggered her. A part of her wanted to deny it, to push it away and keep believing in something better. But another part, the quiet, honest part that always knew when something was wrong, couldn’t find another explanation. Would Ryan really do that? Would he be that cruel? Or careless? Her gaze lifted to meet Diego’s, and all she saw was hurt. Not just his—but hers, mirrored back at her. “Diego…” she said, softly, stepping closer. Her hand reached for his cheek, thumb brushing lightly against skin that had once felt like home. A single tear escaped down her face, cutting a path she didn’t bother to wipe away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” For the letters. For the lost time. For trusting the wrong person. For ever leaving. For everything.

Diego didn’t move at first. He sat there, eyes fixed on the swinging door, the hum of the pizza place bleeding back in. Warm sunlight slanted through the windows, catching the edge of the table where the crumpled bills sat—too much money, left behind like punctuation at the end of something irrevocable. He dragged in a breath, sharp and unsteady, and then pushed himself up. The booth creaked beneath the sudden motion, but he barely noticed. Tension had shifted in his chest—no longer the heat of frustration, but something colder. A question without an answer.

Out on the street, the afternoon unfolded bright and unbothered. A breeze carried the scent of warm bread and diesel fumes, mingling with the tang of fried cheese from the food cart at the corner. ��Liyana,” came the call—low, rough around the edges. A few long strides brought him closer. Fingers closed gently around her arm—just to reach. Her skin was warm, tense beneath his hand. He pulled her body towards him, cutting off the space she was retreating into. In the sunlight, her eyes looked darker, guarded. For a moment, he didn’t speak. “You didn���t write to me,” he said, quieter now—voice stripped down to something real. “I waited, Liyana. Every damn week, I checked. Nothing.” No accusation, just confusion softened with hurt. A crack he hadn’t let show until now. Eyes searched hers, brow knit—not in anger, but in disbelief, maybe even guilt. The noise of the city carried on around them, loud and indifferent. But between them, a silence hung heavy, waiting.

[returntosunder]

Hi!! I hope you're having a great day :D I saw I could share my AU with you here (a friend told me), so, here goes nothing:

Forgottentale

(alternate timeline of Undertale)

After the player completing the game, felt something strange—a sense of incompletion. They couldn't leave. They become obsessed. They began running through the routes again and again—Pacifist, Neutral, Genocide—searching for secrets that they might have been missed.

But something was different.

As the resets piled up, the world began to glitch. At first, it was subtle—backgrounds flickered, music warped, dialogue lines appeared twisted or broken. The characters began to behave oddly. Personalities shifted. Their appearances mutated or looked weird. Even their SOULS, their very essence, flickered and fractured into something… wrong.

Sans was the first to notice. He tried to laugh it off at first. He always did. But the anomalies kept piling up.

Papyrus noticed too—but unlike Sans, he ignored it, desperately clinging to the belief that everything was fine.

The monsters turned hostiles. Friends became enemies. Familiar places became surreal, corrupted echoes of themselves.

In a desperate effort to protect what little remained, Sans began killing corrupted monsters. Not out of cruelty, but out of mercy and fear. Little by little he descended into madness, haunted by memories that didn’t belong, timelines that never happened, he started to get corrupted too, causing his eyes to have some cracks but for some reason, he didn't transform completely like the others.

He wanted to protect his brother by any cost, but, The corruption began to spread through Papyrus. His form twisted, voice distorted, and eventually, he became something else. Something horrible.

Every monster started to transform by the corruption, until Chara appears, the demon blamed for the destruction. Sans confronted them, demanding answers. But Chara didn’t offer comfort.

''The things you’ve done,'' they said, ''will always haunt you. Not because they’re wrong, but because you kept doing them even after knowing what would happen.''

Sans realized: the world was never just a game. And neither was the player.

The last remnants of the world glitched, twisted, and crumbled into static. Undertale was no more, just a void, echoing with fragments of laughter, screams, and broken code.

That's all, lmao-

some curious facts:

After all this happened, Sans called himself 'Shade', because he wanted to forget everything he onced did, the killings and all that stuff that happened in his world. By becoming "Shade," he distances himself from those memories, even if they never truly leave him. They still disturb him, making him go a little crazy about it. (poor of my boy)

He's currently married and he has kid, he lives happily now, and i wonder who is his husband… (Void!sans by @air-png) // This doesn't affect the main AU, but it's funny to mention it

He likes the Echo Flower. He says is because is pretty, but his answer is not entirely true. When he killed monsters in his world, he would go to these flowers to ask for forgiveness for the souls he had killed. And in the present, he still murmurs to these flowers, apologies to Papyrus, regrets about the monsters he had killed, questions he no longer expected answers to..etc. He liked them because: They never judged. They never changed. He prefers to tell his truths to these flowers, because he knows that if he does it with living people, they will judge him or hate him. (As I said he currently lives with Void, he probably has these flowers somewhere in the house)

He cries in blood strangely??? probably from his corruption that is still in his body (i didn't remember this lmao)

He's bisexual. (no words)

FINALLY FINISHING THIS OMG-

Here drawing of Shade;

Woah, that was a lot of writing, sorry

Have a nice day!!! :)

Ooo im happy ur sharing! Send your friend my thanks ^^

OOO I LOVE RESETS HAVING CONSEQUENCES IN AUS OMG!!! Everyone slowly getting corrupted each reset is so scary cause just watching people you know slowly becoming different in that way hurts omg. And Sans having to kill them just as a way to show mercy is even sadder

Aww him asking the echo flowers is so sad but sweet :(

BROS MARRIED!?!?! (Lmao leaving it as just hes Bisexual and nothing else is so funny to me)

I love this omg Ty for sharing ^^

[firebirdsdaughter]

I respect your right…

… To interpret this honestly incredibly vague character writing/story telling in this way. I respect it.

You're wrong, but I respect it.

[borderlinereminders]

If you’re someone who needs reassurance from loved ones that they love you, that’s really valid. But the way you ask for it matters. Hinting at it with comments like “nobody loves me” can actually be hurtful to your loved ones. It’s also a good idea to try and reassure yourself first!

The truth is that for a lot of people, giving reassurance constantly is exhausting. It can lead to issues in a relationship over time, and negative feelings on both sides because they may end up avoiding the other person. This is especially true if someone doesn't ask for reassurance directly but hints at it with things like "No one cares about me."

My advice is if you are finding yourself struggling is to first try and self soothe either with skills or things that have helped in the past. Here is my post on self-soothing ideas! And if that doesn’t work, then ask for it in a healthy way.

Some other examples.

Keep screenshots, letters, cards etc that affirm you are cared about by your loved ones. You can even ask someone to give you a recording of them saying it that you can listen to. Bonus: Keep these things in a self-care box that you can use in times of crisis and pull out that has other things in like affirmation cards, favourite treats, self care items, etc.

Examine the evidence. By this I mean try and keep a list of things they've done to show they care about you. For example, I have a list of things my partner has done for me besides saying "I love you" of both big things and little things that I can read when my brain decides to be rude to me and make me doubt he cares.

If the other person has done something specifically to make you feel they don't care, it's important to step back and look at the situation and check the facts. There's a difference between someone lying to you or doing something intentional and someone not replying to you because they got busy. Here’s my post on checking the facts!

Here’s a post on Challenging Irrational Thoughts!

ACCEPTS is a really good skill for distractions! Here's a post on it.

TIPP is a good skill if you are needing to calm down in immediate crisis. Here's a post on it.

If you're having urges to accuse your loved one of not caring, consider Urge Surfing (here's a post on it) and then using a skill or plan that helps you.

If you aren't able to self-soothe that's so valid! It really is. I recommend trying it because sometimes you will be able to. But then sometimes you won't be able to and that's okay. In this case, if you need to get it from someone, ask directly for it instead of doing it in a guilting/passive aggressive/hinting way. You might say "Hey. I know you care about me, but my brain is being rude. Can you please give me some reassurance?" instead of "Sorry I'm such a bad friend/person/burden/etc".

It might also be worth having a conversation when calm with the other person to establish some boundaries and ideas for communication.

For example, if your friend regularly feels drained by you asking for reassurance, they could set boundaries on how often they're okay for you to ask for it.

You both might decide that they will try and message you randomly to offer reassurance because it can mean a lot when that happens.

This might be where they send you messages/recordings/etc that you can read in times of need.

If the friend is doing something specifically, even unintentionally, that makes you question things then it's really valid to have a discussion about it! I recommend using some I-Statements or other communicative skills to talk about it. Even if they aren't doing something wrong, it's still valid to talk about your feelings and see if you can come up with a solution. For example, maybe it's really hard on you that they disappear randomly for a couple days when their energy levels plummet. And this causes you to spiral and think they're ghosting you or etc. In this situation, maybe you and your friend come up with a solution where you establish a single emoji (specific for this purpose) that the friend can send with low energy that says "Hey. It's not you but I'm feeling drained and need to not reply for a bit."

[pathologicalreid]

blowing smoke | s.r.

in which Spencer asks you out on a date, but you know better

[next]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: maeve and that fucking book. mutual pining but with avoidant reader. this fic lowkey could've been titled waiting room because reader knows it's for the better. word count: 1.96k a/n: hey does this thing still work? hello?

The hand hovering over the small of your back didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, you were hyperaware of every movement that Spencer made. Every hitched breath, each time he shifted his weight, the way he guided you through the halls put you on edge. He herded you through your apartment complex as if it were a maze he’d scrawled on the back of his hand.

His apartment was in the opposite direction of yours, but he still offered to take the red line with you, citing a need to make sure you got home safely. “Did you have a good time tonight?” He asked, his voice breaching the painful silence that had coagulated between you, his hand remained above your back, skimming the fabric of your jean jacket as you stepped onto the elevator together, trapping you in a metal box together.

You nodded once, keeping your eyes focused on the muddled reflection of the two of you in the elevator door instead of looking back at him. “I can’t complain about good company,” you answered, curling your toes in your shoes, using the texture of your socks to stop yourself from abandoning your resolve.

Spencer hummed in response, “We should do it again sometime,” he told you, letting you get off of the elevator first before he trailed you to your front door.

“As long as Penelope’s around, I don’t think we’ll be in danger of losing team bonding nights.” Tonight had been dinner at a new restaurant in the district, a place that you’d never heard of but Garcia had found on social media. Of course, the restaurant served exclusively Italian cuisine, and Rossi—who you’d been sat next to—went around the table and explained what he’d change about everyone’s meals to make them more authentic.

He was quiet as you rummaged through your purse for your apartment key, zeroed in on the way you rifled through pens and chapsticks to find the right carabiner. “Oh,” he responded, following you into the apartment. “I meant maybe you and I could do something. Get dinner together sometime.”

You faltered, your hand resting on a hanger in your coat closet, “I think Penelope would take it personally if we started hanging out without her.”

“Bringing Penelope with us on a date might send people the wrong message,” Spencer countered, a soft chuckle carrying through his tone.

Closing the closet door, you waited until the latch clicked to turn around and face him, “Spencer,” you started, tilting your head to the side but refraining from moving any closer to him. “We can’t,” you stated plainly, shaking your head in disbelief—both at the fact that he was asking you out and at the fact that you were turning him down.

His golden-brown irises studied your face in abject disappointment; he searched your expression for the smallest sign that you were joking. Turning him down to mess with him only to quickly turn around and tell him you’d love to get dinner together. “Sure, we can, there’s no regulation that says two members of the BAU can’t be together. There won’t be as long as Rossi’s around.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up, “That’s not why.” You wracked your brain for a simple explanation. A little white lie would be easier than the messy truth, but every lie eventually circled back to the same thing—to the same person. You’d been so patient in waiting for this moment, living your life on the sidelines while you watched Spencer crush on coworkers and bartenders and waiting for the universe to put you on the same playing field.

Here he was, offering to pull you from the bench, but you weren’t interested. He shifted his weight from left to right, “Then why?”

Naming your issue would require bringing up a subject that had become taboo in the BAU. You found yourself wishing you still had your jean jacket on, the cold in your apartment brought on by freezing Spencer out, “Maeve.” Your one-word answer floated off of your tongue easily, a topic you had wanted to bring up since she died but had avoided for nearly a year now.

You found a spot on the floor and focused on it, desperately needing something to look at other than Spencer’s face as each stage of grief flashed across it. “I want to move on,” he assured you, “It’s time, don’t you think?”

A scoff escaped your throat before you had the chance to reel it in, “I don’t want to be a task to you. There’s no point in me being a checkbox on your therapist’s list.” It broke your heart to turn him down. It killed you to hurt him. It killed you to hurt the bright-eyed girl who fell in love with him on her first day on the job.

“You aren’t,” he insisted. “You wouldn’t be. I’m not doing this for anyone except for myself,” he took a determined step forward and you stumbled backward, and just like that, he had a final answer.

All of the words in the English language, and you couldn’t form a sentence that would concisely explain why you couldn’t go on a date with the love of your life. You shrugged helplessly, allowing yourself to look up at him, trying to unsee the haunted look in his eye that you’d grown accustomed to. It’d been there since the day she died, and you weren’t entirely sure he’d ever be rid of it. “You called her the most beautiful girl in the world,” you reminded him, unsure of why you chose this reason.

He frowned, the crease between his brows so endearing that you nearly forgot about the cracks forming around your heart. “What?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you considered your next words carefully, “That’s what you said to Blake, I heard you.”

Spencer looked pained, “She… I didn’t—”

“And you’d never seen her before,” you cut off his explanation. “You called her the most beautiful girl in the world without having any idea what she looked like,” you reminded him of the odd circumstances encircling his relationship with Maeve. Phone booth girl.

“She was my girlfriend,” he offered as if that was explanation enough. It wasn’t lost on you. People had a tendency to speak in hyperbole when they were in love, and despite his excessive rationality, Spencer was no exception.

Running your tongue over your molars, you hummed, “Look, all I know is that if you felt that way about someone you’d never laid eyes on, there’s no room for you to feel that way about me.” You weren’t trying to be brave or considerate, you were frantically trying to build a brick wall between you and Spencer that should’ve been erected years ago.

He shook his head, taking another step toward you, leaving you to back into the kitchen counter, “You don’t mean that.”

Tears started to line your eyes, silver wisps blurring the visage of everything you’ve ever wanted, “You have to understand, Spencer.” The determination in your voice slowly morphed into a plea. You found yourself begging him for mercy, “In my head, we’ve already dated, fallen in love, and broken up. I don’t need to relive that sequence of events.”

“You don’t think we even deserve a chance? Because of Maeve?” He continued to push, poking and prodding at you until you felt like you were going to break apart.

You couldn’t do it. You could no longer allow yourself the luxury of fantasizing about being with him while the skeleton in his closet was pushed up against the door, threatening to break it from its hinges. Your tears slipped down your cheeks, moving in a steady stream as your lips parted to respond, “Because you called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and I’ve been in front of you for eight years waiting for you to notice me.”

It wasn’t that you considered yourself a jealous person. At least, not in the sense that you were jealous of Maeve. You couldn’t be in a relationship where you were always cognizant of the fact that someone else always came first. In the past year, you’d seen the way her death followed Spencer’s every action firsthand, and you couldn’t let her haunt you too.

“Let’s say you mean this and want to be with me; I’ll never live up to her,” you explained yourself to him, hoping to fill the gaping wound in your chest with words that would never be able to repair the damage that was being done to you. “I will never be able to reach the standard that she set,” you told him.

Spencer held a hand up, trying to get you to stop speaking, “That’s not true.”

You waved it off, “Of course it is. Spencer, if not her, then someone else will always come first to you. I’d spend half of our relationship wondering if you’re being forthcoming in your feelings about me, and I refuse to use what’s left of my dignity to stand in front of you and beg for your love.”

“You won’t have to,” he insisted. “I have absolutely no intention of using you as some sort of placeholder.”

Spencer was always good with words. You’ve watched him bend truths and manipulate UnSubs into giving him exactly what he wants. That was what he was doing right now, as surely as you were holding a knife to your own throat, he was asking you to lay down your arms. He didn’t want to hear you out, everything you said to him went unprocessed by that beautiful brain of his, and a feeling of helplessness filled the void. “Do you still carry the book around with you?”

It was like you’d pressed a reset button, his demeanor completely changed when you brought up the book, “What?” He straightened up, pulling his shoulders back as he eyed you nervously.

“The Narrative of John Smith, is it in your bag right now?” You asked him. Spencer’s kinship with books was a trait that had previously fed your fantasy, but for the last year it had only ever been one book. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him off for having the audacity to ask you out while he had that book in his bag. As if the inscription didn’t imply that Spencer and Maeve were destined to be together.

Slowly, Spencer opened his bag, reaching in and pulling out the eerily familiar book. One-hundred and twenty pages of your precarious and unending heartbreak. There was a bookmark placed about halfway through, indicating he was in the middle of his umpteenth reread.

Something about it made you feel so pathetic that you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. There was no escaping her, even now. You’d never be able to fully leave her in the past, there would always be the question of whether or not they’d be together had she not died.

Maybe he’d shelve the book someday. Maybe he’d read a book by your favorite author instead of clinging to Arthur Conan Doyle. Maybe he’d stop quoting E.E. Cummings on a daily basis. He just hadn’t reached that stage of grief yet, and part of you thought he’d remain in a permanent state of bargaining. You weren’t willing to be part of the bargain. You weren’t willing to be the one he defaults to just because you have a pulse.

Shaking your head, you walked around him and opened the front door, leaning against it and fidgeting with the deadbolt while you waited for him to get the message, “I can’t take being the last choice.”

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another." - Thomas Merton

[radiant-reid]

24 Hours

request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".

a/n: my return piece !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.

JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.

Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.

It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.

His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.

Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.

She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.

Until JJ fucked it up.

The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.

Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.

It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.

He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.

It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.

He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.

"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.

He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.

"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.

"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."

She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.

He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.

"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.

He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."

"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"

"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."

She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.

With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.

"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.

"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."

Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.

He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.

Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"

"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.

He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.

His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.

The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.

"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.

She grins at him. "Hi."

"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.

"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.

"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.

She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."

Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.

They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.

"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."

"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."

"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.

She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."

There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.

The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.

"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.

As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."

Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."

And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.

It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.

Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.

He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.

He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.

"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."

He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.

She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"

"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.

"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."

He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.

"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."

JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"

"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.

"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."

Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.

"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.

"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.

Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.

"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.

"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.

"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.

JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.

They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.

It's not a word they've said before.

Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.

And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.

[livingasaghost]

i think one reason why so many people fail to understand andrew and neil's relationship is because people don't know what it is to be aspec. and obviously the aspec umbrella is wide and varied and no one size fits all, but at the heart of their relationship, neil is demisexual. and i fully believe andrew is some form of aromantic. and obviously their shared history of trauma (of all kinds) colors their relationship and their sexualities and actions. but aspec people (and the people in relationships with those aspec people) develop such different relationships than allo people. they care differently, and it's often the care that becomes most important, rather than (just) the attraction. like yes, i choose you because i see you because i am interested in you because i don't quite understand you but i want to, i need to, and i am committed to sticking around regardless of whether we are a legal partnership or not.

people argue all the time that andreil would grow to say i love you some day, that they'd eventually heal enough to get married, but that isn't healing. that's ignoring a vital part of each of them. not only are they both still learning what love is, but love is not what their relationship is built around. they did not ~FaLl In LoVE~ they built a partnership around taking care of the other person. sure they were attracted to each other in their own ways, but andrew doesn't look at neil like he's his happily ever after romance. neil is the person who wants andrew to live, who wants andrew to be happy, who wants andrew to know that he has value even when he's not a good person. and andrew is the person who wants neil to be safe, who wants neil to be happy, who wants neil to know that he has value even when he isn't playing exy. their "romance" comes from holding each other up, from calling each other on their shit, from being a safe space when the world has proven it is anything but. neil is the one who almost starts to imagine some kind of long-term partnership in such conventional terms and andrew is so unconcerned with what that partnership looks like...he just knows the two of them will continue holding each other up as long as they can. and sure they'll have sex and sleep in the same bed and get cats together and all that "romantic" shit, but it's more than romance. it's a life. it's security. it's a chance to rewrite the trauma of their pasts.

and yeah to an outsider all that is romantic, sure. but i don't think andrew and neil see it like that. their relationships is all facts and truths. they feel safest in these absolutes, in the trust they are building together, in the shared language they are crafting between tentative touches and long stares. but to label it something as banal as ~romance~ undersells just what's happening to them. they don't need to say i love you because they know that all of these pieces that make up their shared life together say that for them, and they wouldn't know what to do with those words anyway. their "love" is not the same as other people's anyway. they don't need to get married because anniversaries and dates and marriages minimize just how long forever is, and they are already joined together by the understanding they share.

if the two of them got married or started "dating" it would send the wrong message to people who will never understand. neil isn't andrew's ~boyfriend~ he's the man who convinced him that life can interesting enough to stick around for. andrew isn't neil's ~lover~ he's the man who refused to let him run away from the life he always wanted. it's not romantic, it's survival. it's selflessness. it's learning how to care for yourself by caring for someone else and letting them care for you.

[thedilfdiaries]

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Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 7,103 - oops

Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.

Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel’s never been on a site like this.

But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism. 

With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it. 

As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth. 

Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.

His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?

Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.

For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos.  But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.

Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you. 

Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.

Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once. 

Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.

—

A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.

When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.

Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."

You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"

You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."

You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.

You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."

You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."

As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”

As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you. 

As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.

He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say 

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin. 

He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier. 

A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.

you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?

He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.

You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips. 

you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏

You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it. 

cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this. 

You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.

cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.

you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.

cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.

you: I can't wait. 

As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.

—

As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this. 

You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ

The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.

With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.

you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉

You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.

Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.

cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?

you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉

You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.

cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.

you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏

cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.

You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!

cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’

what I'm about to send you.

you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉

cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘

As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.

The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.

You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response 

you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.

As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.

cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.

You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own. 

you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉

cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.

As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.

The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

—

As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.

Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief

"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”

You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.

You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”

Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.

Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”

Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction. 

As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.

You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.

With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.

He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.

As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."

You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.

As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.

The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.

Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.

You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."

Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.

Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.

You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.

You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.

"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?" 

“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."

"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”

Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.

You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.

"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.” 

With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.

—

The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.

He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.

Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties. 

Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.

And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.

“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."

Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.

"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.

Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.

He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”

Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.

Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.

"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.

"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."

With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.

As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."

Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing. 

“You're gonna make me come.”

You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.

The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.

You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."

With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"

Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms. 

As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"

Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."

Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.

"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.

You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.

Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.

For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.

Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"

Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."

You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding. 

Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."

Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.

Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”

You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."

You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.

As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss. 

As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.

You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.

Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.

Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."

You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.

As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.

When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.

Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."

Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?

Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.

Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."

Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."

You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"

He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."

With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.

As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."

You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”

And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again. 

Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘

[kaxserlvr]

Toxicbf!kaiser who always puts soccer above you. He doesn’t think twice cancelling dates for training or matches if it would mean becoming the best.“You should’ve known what you were getting into”

Toxicbf!kaiser who avoids serious discussions. He hates emotional confrontations, can’t handle them and will dodge it or dismiss it completely. “We’re doing fine, why ruin the atmosphere?”

Toxicbf!Kaiser whose ego is his biggest flaw. He will constantly prioritise himself and make you an afterthought not an equal completely disregarding your feelings . May even seem like he’s looking down on you. “You should feel lucky you’re with me”

Toxicbf!kaiser who doesn’t apologise. Even when he knows he’s in the wrong(which is rare lol) he’d prefer to straight up ignore it or buy expensive gifts in hopes you’ll forget. He hates the feeling of being vulnerable.

Toxicbf!Kaiser when you start to pull away from him will act like it doesn’t bother him(it does). He thinks you’re just trying to get a reaction from him, he’d call it “cute” He fully thinks you’ll come back(until you dont)

Toxicbf!Kaiser who feels something disgusting stir in him when he sees you talking to someone with a smile you no longer show him. He suddenly has a strong urge to be near you to show you’re his glaring at the person.” Are they bothering you,hm?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who starts to panic when he realises you’re genuinely getting tired of him. He’ll try to act like it doesn’t bother him but starts to notice how you don’t wait up for him at night, you dont try to start small chats, you no longer look at him,you no longer send him cute messages on how he’s doing. He’s starting to sound desperate.”Talk to me” “where are you?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who uses anger as a defence. He’ll try to blame you for his issues since it’s hard for him to take the fault. Truth is beneath all the anger is fear-fear of losing the one person that makes him feel something. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna give up on me?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who finally breaks and apologies. Seeing you slip away for good causes him to drop the act. No more looking down,no more games. He looks desperate and his usual cocky voice is replaced by something quieter “I’ve never done this…I- I don’t know how to be…I don’t want to loose you..” hed swallow his pride and admit he’s wrong if it means not losing you “I know I messed up and should’ve treated you better..I’m sorry”

Toxicbf!Kaiser who’d give you space but still be available. Texting you so he can remember you’re still here “have you eaten?” “What did you do today?”

If you choose to leave him for good …he’d take it hard and he wouldn’t be the same. Hed spend most of his time on soccer to try forget everything and his emptiness. It does pay off as he improves even more and becoming the best of the best but when he scores the winning goal and everyone cheers for him he instinctively looks for you in the crowd-to see your not there-he realises how bad he lost

But if you choose to give him a chance…you can see he’s nervous he will mess up again by the way he fidgets more around you. You two would have a talk and Kaiser would open up about his fears and insecurities he’s had and hed promise to work on himself and you promise to help communicate more so you guys can grow from this for the future.

[merakiui]

Mera do you think merfolk can smell/sense when a human is ovulating? Imagine the possibilities

>:) definitely. It’s even better if you’re unaware just how much your ovulation affects them.

Azul’s nose wrinkles. His sense of smell in human form may not be nearly as strong and predatory as the twins’, but it’s still quite formidable. He picks up on this change almost immediately, which is why it surprises him to learn such a sweet smell is coming from you. Usually these sorts of smells are an indication that one is ready to mate. He spends the whole day driving himself mad trying to understand if you’re sending a signal or if this is unrelated to human biology. If you ask him what’s wrong, he’ll avert his eyes and cover his nose.

There are too many filthy thoughts in his head, so he can’t bother putting on a pompous persona. He’s suddenly shy, his imagination making him strangely vulnerable to your questioning. >_< nothing’s the matter, he’ll lie, and for once it’s so obvious he’s not just saying that to trick you. One half of Azul is wanting to court for the purpose of mating, but the other half is certain this smell doesn’t mean the same as the symbolism in the sea. ;;;; he’s going to spend an absurd amount of time researching human ovulation, and next time he’ll be ready to seduce you!!!!!!

Jade will watch you smile up at him, completely oblivious to the fact your smell is driving him crazy. Even though he smiles placidly, he’s envisioning you in tears, covered in bloody bites, legs spread as he folds you into a mating press. “Jade, are you paying attention?” You’ll wave your hand in front of his face and suddenly the filthy daydreams dissipate. “Of course. Whatever gave you the impression that I wasn’t?” is his calm, collected reply. :)

Floyd is blunt about it. With a cheesy grin, all invasive in your personal space, he’ll poke your cheek and say, “Shrimpy smells funny today.” And you’ve no idea what that means. Floyd won’t bother elaborating, so you’re stuck having to work out this puzzle of an observation. Even though he acts easygoing, the truth is that your smell makes him feel so restless. He fidgets more than he normally does, overcome with a sudden territorial feeling. Like he should be protecting you. It’s why he spends the whole day shadowing you, which actually isn’t too shocking or unnerving. To you, this seems like typical Floyd behavior. He’s obviously found something interesting about you and he’s going to play until he’s bored. You don’t realize he’s actually sticking near you to ward off any and all potential threats and mates. If you wonder why no one approaches you that day, you’ll find your answer lies with Floyd and his moray eel instincts.

[darkredsugarcookie]

Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend

Let me know what you think, thanks!

i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL

love you 3000!

Signed Up For This

Word count: 1,143

As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. 

But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you. 

It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.

Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers? 

But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”

“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”

“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”

“I’m not meddling,” he said. 

You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.” 

“The politics don’t—”

“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”

“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said. 

“Her assistant? Mel?” 

“Yes. She’s on the fence.” 

“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”

He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile. 

“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied. 

“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”

“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.” 

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered. 

“Always.”

And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”

You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood. 

You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”

“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”

“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory. 

Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” came from all four of them. 

“He’s married?” the brunette asked. 

“In the process,” I corrected. 

“How did that happen?” Walker muttered. 

“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.

You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?” 

“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”

“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.” 

“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.” 

As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you. 

“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said. 

“Someone really does have a soft spot.”

“Isn’t that cute."

And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.

[eraserbread]

God forbid a girl asks for some ex-husband kento (pls 🥺)

kento really should leave. it's obvious -- this is not his home anymore.

no, it's his daughters and ex-wife's. he handed it over like stone once the divorce went final, wanting his girl to grow up in spacious security. he'll sign on a lackluster one-bedroom in the city just so all of his money can flow into keeping you afloat.

though you're perpetually trapped by him, using a bank account he monitors and living in a home you don't pay for, he still gives you grace. it's because he's guilty. kento knows he fucked you over, it's why he's pacing your bedroom door where he knows you're asleep.

he's a good dad, carving out time between missions to run and take his daughter to school. it's the one constant his little girl has, and in first grade, she's old enough to understand that he's never really around.

it's why he has her hello kitty lunch box tight in his grip that she left in his car today. he knows you need to pack it for tomorrow and would likely freak out if you lost it, so he needed to hand it to you personally.

or, that's what he tells himself to justify the anxious pacing. he needs to swallow that familiar need for you that brews in his bones and leaves him tossing and turning through his sleepless nights. It's only been a year without you; surely he can handle a lifetime, right?

all he was going to do was drop the box on your nightstand, send a quick text, and be on his way. but, you had other ideas.

it was his stupid pacing; it woke you up, and now you were staring at the windowless wall, scowling into nothingness. blankets are bunched neatly at your lace-covered waist, wrapped in a honeymoon artifact you used to show off for your husband, now your insecure ex who doesn't speak more than two sentences at a time.

unless, it's to tell you to be obedient, or stop talking.

this time, it's you who initiates the talking. "what are you doing?"

you can't see the tense in his shoulders when he realizes you're awake. he thought he could get lucky, sneaking around like a criminal. you wouldn't give him luck -- he doesn't deserve peace.

"just dropping off rin's bento box." the hard plastic hits your side table, and you shudder. his voice is deep like he's tired. "she ran out of my car like she was mad this evening... all to see you. she's a mother's girl, not like I can blame her much."

"she has like eight bentos, you could've left it."

kento sighs, letting your words overtake and shove his efforts right back in his face. "it's her favorite."

"she has eight favorites."

"okay." he deadpans. "anything else i'm doing wrong? or that I don't know?"

"nanami, we'd be here all night if I told you the truth." with every sentence, it's becoming increasingly obvious that you won't be getting much sleep. you sit up, pulling your blankets around your half-decent body. "say it. whatever it is that brought you here with the excuse of a bento."

you know better than to expect kento to listen, but you don't expect him to round the expanse of the bed, dropping to his knees right next to you. he attempts to reach for your tangled hand, but you swat him away, gaze full of indignant fires.

"forgive me... please." he's muttering, head dipped in embarrassment. since he gave you up, he's realized it as his biggest mistake. he can't calm the burning within him at night, he can't stand going back to his old ways - convenience store dinners and storefront sandwiches. but, he also can't let you be dragged into his work again. He could see the effect it pulled you into, the worry that ate you alive every time you saw him. but, there must be an answer, some alternative to cold-turkey. you are an addiction.

"forgive you? forgive you for what? breaking apart our family? giving up? giving in to your cowardice? i don't think you understand -- you leaving me doesn't just affect you and I, it affects rin in ways we won't see until it's eating us alive. that's on you. it's your fault." always level-headed, always the voice of reason even if it's painful. kento nods, but can't look at you.

"forgive... me..." he pleads, emotionless and unblinking at the rugged floor. "...please."

you scoff, pushing away from him on the bed. you crawl to the other side, the side nanami left the bento, and take it as an excuse to run from this situation.

"you're just going to walk away?"

"yes! because i'm not dealing with your bullshit." he follows you out into the hallway, past your sleeping daughters room and into the kitchen. you can feel his shadowed eyes staring at the jutting expose of your ass through the nightgown, but for some reason it doesn't bother you. emotionally, you're as disconnected as possible, but your body still likes him. i mean, it's undeniable, kento will always be the most attractive man you've ever, ever seen.

it was not you who cut those ties. never you.

and he's crowding you as you turn on the faucet, opening rin's box and putting it under. kento is on you the entire time, but he actually corners you against the sink, huge body caging you in, hands planted at your either side. his breathing is nasally and pathetic. you're scowling.

"...ignore that."

you're squinting, trying to gauge what you're ignoring. then, you can feel it. anger rises your body temperature. an erection, pressing right between the swells of your loosely covered ass. "you're genuinely so unbelievable."

you've begun washing the dish, spinning soapy water in the painted pink plastic as he breathes on your neck. you wish you can push him away and lessen him to a lifetime of sexual pining and angst, but you're stoic.

the dish is washed, you're turning around, breathless. and just as you go to close your hand over his cheek and give in, a tiny voice from the hallway catches you.

"mama?" your little girl whines, one eye cracked open in the harshness of the lights. she's all messy-haired, red-faced and sleepy. in her left hand hangs a tattered kuromi doll. "I heard... dad..."

you've never pushed kento away like this, but he's being pushed, taking it like it's nothing, too. he understands that whatever rin needs comes first - he's okay not being at your attention.

and he loves seeing you two interact as you sweep her up in your safe arms. rin settles on your hip, long legs kicking into the air as she rests on your shoulder. "sleepy."

"i know, my baby." you coo, running a hand through her hair. "want me to put you back to sleep?"

staring at her twin, her dad, rin nods her sleepy head, using a fist to tug at her right eye. "dad... bye, daddy."

"bye, my princess." kento stands from his lean on the counter, closing in to kiss rin on the cheek. he lingers for a moment, peeking up to your unreadable gaze. you make him feel so little, now. like he hardly exists as a human, let alone the father of your child and the man you loved for over a decade. "sleep well. be nice to your mama, too. I'll be here to take you to school tomorrow."

as you tuck your girl back into bed, she's peaceful. "mama? are you and dad happy again? will he live here again?"

kneeling at her bedside, you smooth the blankets over her figure, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "probably not."

she whines close-eyed, turning her face away from you. "I didn't do anything to make you mad, so why is it my fault?"

"what? rin, dad and i not being together is entirely our fault." you're mindful to the core when speaking to her, deciding it better not to pin blame on you or kento, just for the respect of her mentality.

she whines again, shoving away from your touch defiantly. she's holding kuromi like she's stressed, and it kills you.

"please, mama. please fix it."

[p1astr81]

Could you do Oscar x Next door neighbor Reader where like he hears her moans through the wall all the time and gets off listening to her, they bump into each other outside one day she invites him over for dinner/coffee/something and eventually confess to him that she let him hear her on purpose then he fucks her brains out?!

Yes? Please?

Thanxx xoxo

Anon I’m sending you to horny jail cuz WHAT

uh anyway, warnings: smut (bye bye minors), everyone is so wrong in this I’m in tears, masterbation (f & m), mean!Oscar (at the end), degradation, sub space, dacryphilia

The first time it happened, he thought he was imagining it. Soft little gasps from the flat next door.

Must’ve been the air vents carrying the sound.

He tried to ignore it, he really did. Tried to go to sleep and pretend he wasn’t getting harder with every little sound. But then a pretty little moan reached is ears and he couldn’t ignore the throbbing pain.

Palming himself through his boxers hardly gave him any satisfaction. So he shed his underwear.

It was already slick with beads of precum. His hand wrapped around the base, and the moan he let out was loud and unrestrained.

It was fully immoral, getting himself off to the sounds his neighbor was making. He knew that. But he wouldn’t dare stop himself when it felt as good as it did.

And maybe all his senses were heightened because of the stimulation, but he could’ve sworn your sounds from next door were getting louder. Needier.

Every moan sounded like you were sat right next to him.

His hand pumped the length of his cock, fast, with a tight grip. He was too desperate to even pretend to tease himself.

Oh! Oh, yes!

The sounds you were making were sinful, and shamelessly loud.

Oscar’s breaths grew ragged, his head thrown back as the pleasure built in the core of his stomach. He was pumping himself without restraint, just chasing his release with no care to prolong the pleasure. He couldn’t stop the groans and curses that slipped past his lips.

Oh yes! Fuck yes!

He could tell you’d cum by the pitch of your moans and the slight knocking against his wall—probably due to your writhing. The thought of it threw him in to a blinding orgasm, groaning loudly, not a care for whether you heard him or not.

Morning runs were never his favorite. He was too tired and it sucked all the energy out of him before he’d even began the day.

He closed his apartment door as he stepped into the hallway, jumping when he realized he wasn’t the only person in the confined space.

“Oh, hi!” You greeted. Too sweet. Too innocent sounding. He knew that was far from the truth, and his face burned red at the reminder of how he’d been getting off to your sounds for the past two weeks. “I don’t see you around much. I guess you’re busy traveling the world, right?” You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You were acting normal. Not suspicious of him or avoiding him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear his moans through the wall as he had heard yours.

The thought eased him enough to converse with you like a regular person. “Yeah, I guess.” He laughed. “But I’m on break right now.”

“You know, since you’re home, are you up for coffee? I’d like to get to know my neighbor a bit more.” Your smile never faltered.

He didn’t have to think for long. Any excuse he had to not go run was a great one.

“So, I don’t keep up with the sport much. But I know the basics and whatnot. So, around here, how do you not hit the walls all the time? It’s such narrow streets and you’re going so fast.” You leaned forward, a mug of hot coffee cradled in your hands, eyes sparkling with interest.

He tried to find a happy medium between a confident and cocky response. “Well, we’ve done it for so long, and we have simulators that we can use to practice on. At that point, it’s more or less muscle memory.”

Still, you looked fascinated. “Wow.” You paused, then leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “Is it also muscle memory for you to get yourself off whenever you hear me?”

Oscar nearly spit out his hot chocolate at that. “Sorry, what?” He coughed, trying to play it cool despite looking guilty.

You breathed out a laugh. “If you can hear me, I can hear you.” The sparkle in your eyes was no longer one of interest, but of mischief. You recognized his guilty look. “Don’t worry.” You leaned back. “I wanted you to hear.” You grinned.

He stared, convinced his ears were deceiving him. “You… wanted me to hear you? Why?”

“You’re a smart guy, Oscar.” You tilted your head. “Handsome, too.” You bit your lip, eyes trailing down his body. “Why do you think?”

You gasped as he threw your naked body onto the mattress. “So this is where you’ve been driving me insane, huh?” He rasped, towering over you, caging you in with his muscled arms.

A little pink toy sat on your nightstand, catching his eye. He picked it up, holding in front of your face. “This what you’ve been using?”

You trembled, trying to close your legs but his own legs stopped you from being able to. “Mhm.” You nodded. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, more than ever before.

He turned it on to the lowest setting, placing it on your stomach and dragging it lower, lower, lower-

“Fuck!” You shouted when it made contact with your clit. Oscar smiled at that, and the way you whined when he shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. Everything was so slow with him—the vibrations against your clit, the thrust of his fingers. He wanted to drive you insane, wanted to break you, reduce you to a needy, begging mess.

And he knew he had you right where he wanted you when you thrust into his hand. “Do that again, and I’ll leave right now.”

“No! I’m sorry- fuck!” He turned the vibrator to the next highest speed. Your moans spilled over like a boiling pot. One after the other echoed around the room. You were so close.

Oscar withdrew his hands, leaving you without a release. He licked his fingers clean, moaning dramatically at the taste.

“Oscar,” you mewled, reaching for his bicep. You looked so drunk on him already, and you hadn’t even cum once!

That sure went to his head.

He took both of your wrists in his hand, pinning them to the sheets. “You wanna cum?” You nodded desperately, receiving a devilish grin. “I don’t think you deserve it.”

The whine you let out almost made him feel bad. Almost. “Please! I need it so bad!”

He only laughed at your pleas. “I wanna hear you apologize first.”

“What?”

“Apologize for torturing me for weeks. Letting me hear your pretty little noises.” He placed hot, wet kisses along the length of your throat. “Apologize.” He demanded, unsatisfied with your lack of response.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry it was just so hot!” You rushed out, arching your back, trying to entice him.

“Such a slut.” A cruel grin spread across his lips, his fingers dancing across your tits. He gave one of your nipples an experimental squeeze, satisfaction filling him at how you gasped in response.

Handling you like a rag doll, he flipped you over. He pulled your ass into the air while pressing your head into the pillows. You let out a small moan at being handled in such a way. He scoffed.

“If you’re going to act like a slut, I think you deserve to be fucked like one, no?”

You wiggled your hips, shifting back on your knees. Trying anything to entice him. “Please, Oscar! Just please fuck me!” And when he didn’t do anything for a beat.

“Not so fun being tortured, is it?” His fingers circled your clit. Slowly. Teasing. Just enough pleasure to feel it but not get you anywhere.

“Please! I’ll never do it again! I’ll let you have me whenever you want!”

He eased the tip in, earning a high pitched moan out of you. His hands ran along the length of your back, running down your sides before he gripped onto your hips. “Of course you will.” He spat, yanking your hips to slam against his, successfully plunging his cock into your cunt in one thrust.

A loud moan was punched out of your lungs. “Fuck! yes!” You moaned. Oscar gave you no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace right away. He reached places inside of you the you didn’t even know someone could reach before. Each thrust forced another moan from your lips. It was like Oscar’s own personal concert, and his favorite song being played on repeat.

It felt incredible, so good you didn’t even notice the tears rolling down your cheeks. Oscars hand found your throat and he yanked you back so your back was flush with his chest. You moaned louder at the change of angle. Your head lulled back to rest on his shoulder, eyes rolled back in bliss.

“Aw, enough with those tears, this is what a slut like you wants, isn’t it?” He feigned remorse, he kissed the tears away, groaning when he felt you tighten around him. “You like being called a slut?”

You couldn’t answer, too fucked out already.

He pulled out of you, letting your body flop onto the bed. You let out a noise of protest, then gasped as he flipped your body over again. “I asked you a question.” His voice was level, seemingly unaffected by the loss of your cunt around his cock.

“Yes!” You moaned as he slammed back into you. Back arched off the bed, your fists tried to find purchase in the soaked sheets.

“Prettiest slut I’ve ever seen.” Oscars arms looped around your knees, pressing your legs to your chest, effectively folding you in half. The noise you let out walked the line between a scream and a moan.

You couldn’t even warn him before you were gushing all over his cock. Your cunt was sucking him in, begging for him to cum inside you. And he did with a shout of your name, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

He eased out of you, careful of your sensitive body.

“Should I run a bath or do you want a shower?” He asked, already standing in the en-suit.

You didn’t respond.

He came back out, concern etched on his features. You were blinking slowly, unfocused eyes staring at the wall. He smiled softly, taking your face in his hands. “You there, pretty girl?” His thumb stroked your cheek.

Still, no response.

He was conflicted between concern and letting his ego inflate. “C’mon baby.” He took you in his arms, stroking your hair.

When your eyes finally focused on his face, he smiled. “There you are.” You gave a weak laugh at that.

Bath it is then.

[hellceo]

A TEXT THAT WASN’T MEANT FOR THE RECEIVER — texting prompts ( accepting ) / @hvlfangel

[ SMS ] Well, if you want it back, you better ask nicely.  😈