#ABOUT. ・ ♡・─ take these old used memories from the past.

[sweets1n]

if a man raises his voice at her, ( legit yelling ) she will immediately flinch, i'm not sure there's any way for her to get over that outside of being head over heels in love and feeling safe in that man. the same goes for encountering any blonde southern woman over the age of 36 with a certain cadence to her voice and in how she carries herself. it's that very pulled together southern Belle ministers wife, pageant queen energy. like the drawl that sounds sweet but you can hear the undertone of ire and mean girl energy. she also can't ever put her head underwater because the trauma from drowning and being held under is too much, so she takes showers twice a day instead. a bath is something she'd have to build into with trust and she hasn't been swimming since she was 13.

[illyrianbitch]

-ˋˏ MASTERLIST ˎˊ-

✨ indicates smut ♡ indicates a series ✰ indicates a one shot ↯ installment of series but can be read as stand-alone ☼ indicates a drabble ❥ are personal favorites last updated: 9/13/24 helpful links for palestinian aid

Azriel

♡ . —One Summer✨ (On-going)

One beach house, one festival, one summer to fall in love.

♡ . —An Education in Malice✨ (On-going)

With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

♡ . — The Anatomy of Dependence (Coming soon)

You and Azriel are drawn together by an unbreakable bond, encountering obstacles and triumphs across the centuries and finding your way back to each other again and again.

✰. —Death and His Reaper ❥

After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.

↯. — Back to Our Roots

With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

✰. —Where I Left My Lover

After a brush with death, Azriel makes a difficult decision to protect you.

✰. —What We Make of What We're Made

When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.

✰. —When the Heart is Still Longing ❥

Azriel thought you were the one. Now, he can’t move on

✰. —Pretty Little Shadowsinger

Cassian walks in on you dressing Az in one of your dresses.

✰. —An Evening Reunion

Azriel comes home from a mission. You talk to him about your day, but he’s far more interested in you—and your silk nightgown.

✰. —Memories

While packing some boxes, Azriel is overwhelmed by memories of your relationship.

✰. —What Lies Between Us (On-going)

Azriel has spent years trying to escape the ghosts of his past, retiring into a self-imposed exile despite a promising career as a talented detective. When you turn up at his door asking for help on a recent case, his world is disrupted.

✰. —Body Count

Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.

✰. —Safe✨

Azriel's night is troubled by a nightmare. He finds a soothing remedy in the arms of his mate.

✰. —Winner

You and Azriel are both sore losers. But when you cheat in a game of cards, winning takes on a whole new meaning.

Cassian

♡ ↯. —And I'm Thinking About Your Lips ✨ ❥

You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste. ↯ Part One, ↯ Part Two

↯. — A Hobby for Two ❥

Cassian surprises you with a small gift. You spend the night teaching him how to properly enjoy it.

✰. —A Place For Dying

A mission with Cassian goes terribly wrong.

✰. —Words of Affirmation

Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

☼. —Tender

Cassian cuddles with you when you have a migraine

Rhysand

✰. —Insatiable ✨

There are countless reasons why you and Rhysand don’t work… but those reasons don’t seem so important when you’re tipsy in a bathroom with him inside you.

♡ . — Lights, Camera, Love! (On-going)

Rhysand, Hollywood's hottest heartthrob, has everyone smitten—everyone except you, his co-star. But when rumors of your feud begin to affect the show's ratings, your producers propose a last-ditch solution: a fake romance to salvage your public image and reignite fan interest.

Lucien Vanserra

♡ . — Hidden Things (Coming soon)

Following a cryptic vision from Elain, Lucien finds himself seeking out an enchanted artifact at your shop in the heart of the Day Court. What he finds instead is a profound connection with you—and a version of himself he believed he had lost.

Eris Vanserra

♡ . — A House of Hunger (Coming soon)

Every Autumn court citizen is hungry for something; beasts starved for influence, desperate for control, ravenous for power. Your tastes are no different—albeit a bit specific. It's a deep craving that boils in the pit of your stomach, hot and heavy, all consuming. You’re hungry for revenge.

✰. —Blessed

Angered by Nesta's actions, the Cauldron turned you into a fae different than your sisters— a lesser one that resembled more animal than human. Now living in Autumn, Eris shows you a new perspective on yourself.

✰. —Of Our Own Devices

Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother. Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

✰. —Handsome as Life and Poison

Defying your father’s sacred command, you wander to the grove where Spring and Autumn blend, only to encounter a sinfully divine figure with glowing amber eyes.

Bat-Boys (Reader x BatBoys)

✰. —Worth It

It can be hard to remember why you’ve put up with your best friends for centuries-- until they remind you why they're worth it.

✰. —A Helping Hand

Even most powerful males in Prythian need relationship advice from their best friend.

Mini-Series

♡ . — Mirthroot Mini-Series

Between dodging death and saving Prythian, its always nice to make time and enjoy one of The Mother's greatest creations: mirthroot. Reader x ACOTAR Characters

[mickyschumacher]

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!

Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).

As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.

"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of

You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.

Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."

You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.

Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."

You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...

Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"

Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.

While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.

While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.

You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.

Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?

Wait what?

"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.

You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"

Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.

APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.

Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.

Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."

Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...

A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"

Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.

The best chocolates for sex in 2023!

Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!

Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.

You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"

You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.

Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.

You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.

To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.

Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).

Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.

But all goods things must come to an end.

Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.

With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"

A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.

His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.

Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.

Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.

In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..

"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.

You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"

In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.

You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.

A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.

Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.

Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.

His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.

You had completely lost yourself.

Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.

Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.

You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.

Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.

You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.

Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."

You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.

You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.

He was distracting you.

"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."

Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.

You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."

"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.

His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"

You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"

The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."

"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.

"Yep! Precisely."

Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.

His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.

You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."

Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.

His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.

Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."

"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.

Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.

He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.

Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...

"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.

But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...

Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.

You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.

Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"

Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.

"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.

For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.

You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.

"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.

"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.

"Oh..."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?

Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡

Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

May we all realize our Self ♡

There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2

The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6

A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11

Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12

Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8

Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13

Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14

You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41

A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

HOW TO STOP?

The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj

You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17

You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18

I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20

Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23

Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14

Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14

If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24

One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23

You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25

Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23

Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27

She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.

By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29

Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30

There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31

All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16

Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33

Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16

To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35

All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36

What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38

Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39

If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2

Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40

Got more questions? Recommended reading:

Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3

My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

All references from the remix post

Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book

What does this look like when applied?

Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.

From 4dbarbie students: see the tag

Other: 1, 2

Okay, what to do after reading all this?

Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

When You're Gone

Had a bit of writer's block, so I wrote this to help! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring some of the Twisted Wonderland cast, and what they do (sometimes without realizing it) when they miss you ♡ (There will probably be a part 2, with some more characters lol ♡) Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Riddle, Cater, Ace, Ruggie

Riddle Rosehearts

He loves to have you close, engaging in conversation as you eat or work. Even when you say nothing at all, simply enjoying each other's presence, fills him with joy. There's no one he wants near more than you, and the seat beside him is yours, forever and always.

Whether it be an unbirthday party, in the cafeteria, in the library, or even in class, the chair beside him is always reserved for you. Even when he knows you won't be there, he still saves the spot for you, acting on instinct. The words leave him automatically, not even realizing what he said until it's too late.

"This seat is taken, so find somewhere else to sit" ♡

Cater Diamond

On nights when he can't sleep, scrolling through his phone, he'll look back on old conversations. Scrolling through messages you sent, pictures he took, fond memories you both shared. It brings him more joy than you'd think, a small smile coming to his face as he eventually falls asleep, dreaming of you.

Some nights he just can't sleep, no matter how hard he tries. Scrolling through his phone doesn't help, and Magicam doesn't seem as appealing as it usually is. During these nights, he listens to any voicemails he has from you, or any videos he's taken with you, longing to hear your voice.

He contemplates calling you, but ultimately decides against it, unsure what he'd say if you answered. He'll just keep listening to your voice until sleep takes hold, the sound calming his mind ♡

Ace Trappola

Everyone knows when you're not there, listening to Ace mumble to himself, wondering where you were. He'll look around as if seeking you out, before finally asking someone, curiosity taking hold.

While he does his best not to let it show, he worries about you, especially if he hasn't seen or heard from you in a while. Did something happen? Were you ok? Or perhaps you were mad at him, choosing not to respond?

He does his best to wait, finding the text he sent earlier unanswered. Scrolling through your past messages doesn't give him a hint, and sitting around doesn't help either, leaving him feeling off the rest of the day.

He goes about his business, but the thought of you still rests in the back of his mind. When he sees you again he acts as if nothing happened, being his usual self. Yet, the relief he feels at the sight of you, at your response, causes a smirk to come to his face. One that isn't there just to be teasing or smug ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie's never been picky with food, taking whatever he could get. As long as it wasn't rotten, it was good enough for him, unconcerned with flavor or texture. When given a choice though, he's drawn to dishes you would like, always considering your tastes.

He's used to sharing with others, wanting those around him to be well-fed. As you begin to grow closer, he naturally starts to pick foods you would like, even if he doesn't realize it. All with the intention of sharing it with you, should you ever be hungry.

This habit doesn't stop when you're not there, Ruggie doing it without thinking. As he eats, he imagines you there with him, enjoying the dish for yourself. He finds it makes the food taste better, picturing your face lighting up at the first bite. Maybe he'll be nice and save you some, just this once ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[yandere-sins]

So, uh, this is actually the Sintember story I did... last year :’D It’s a year and four days old, but I had it rotting for so long. Not gonna tag it because the poor mod on Sintember doesn’t need to see something so long off, but I hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless!

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Implied Abuse, Implied Murder), Stalking, Obsessiveness, Posessiveness

Prompt: @/sintember Not again - You thought it was done, it was over. You survived, you moved on. And yet the horror continues. [Part 1]

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

It took the last of your strength to push the door back into its lock, your whole body leaning into the wood to fight off the raging winds outside.

Heaving a deep breath, you leaned against your only defense against the blizzard, chuckling and shaking your head at your own thoughts. Turning around, you faced the firepit in the middle of your cabin, red and orange flames crackling and dancing, the heat licking at your exposed cheeks, the only skin visible beneath the wool and fur keeping you warm outside.

It felt welcoming and inviting, and you sighed. Putting down the firewood you gathered from outside, you hoped it would dry before the flames died. It was a pain to rekindle a lost fire, but you'd manage. You had always managed; neither a blizzard nor an unlit fireplace would bring you down after everything you've been through. In fact, you much preferred it to the challenges of the past. You'd take the raging blizzard and being snowed in all the time over what you experienced at the hands of the madman you had fallen victim to.

Your memories had kept you awake for most of your life, but they saved you more often than you had thought them capable of. They had always kept you alert and careful, gentle but wary. It was sad that none of them could bring a smile to your face, and you envied innocent children and happy villagers alike for their countless, precious memories. But you had none. If they existed, they were horrifying reminders to be cautious. Maybe that was just how your life would always be.

Peeling off the layers of clothing, you sighed at the relief of warmth driving into your shakey bones and icy skin. It had been worth it, in the end, going through all the pain, the misery. Even though the snow reminded you of the cold winter nights spent in prison with your enemy, huddled together out of necessity, you were thankful for the blizzard as it kept you hidden. The feeling of his hands on your body would probably never wash off, but at least now you were alone. Alone and free.

The next village was so far down the mountain that they couldn't even see your little hut. You'd walk two days to reach it, and two to get back, so you kept your visits sparse, the conversations even shorter. The fewer people knew about the ominous person living on the mountain, the better, and you didn't really need them, only occasionally venturing down for a new sewing kit or fruit you've been craving.

Spring and summer were easy to handle, with a stream nearby for water, birds to shoot, and the occasional goat passing by to milk. Since you were all by yourself, you didn't need much, your garden keeping you fed most of the year. But winter was different. In autumn, foraging and harvesting was still easy. However, you'd never get used to the harsh winters alone, praying every day you wouldn't hurt yourself or you'd run out of luck up here.

But regardless, it was safe. That was your main priority. Some may call traversing through three countries before deciding to settle on a lonesome mountain over the top, but you knew better. You knew that if there was even the slightest bit of chance that your enemy could find out where you were, he would. So, you took the challenges of survival every day in return for your freedom. At least, it had worked. You'd been rid of him for years now, and you doubted that would change any time soon.

Poking the fire, the sparks flying through the air elated you.

You had found solace in the little things, like a burning fire, a hearty stew, plucking the first carrots you grew in your garden and eating the masses of pickled vegetables you cultivated. While you were busy, you didn't think of the past, didn't agitate the wounds it left. Perhaps it was too optimistic to say you were healing from the trauma and the misery, but at least you weren't confronted by it every day. Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss.

And you deserved peace, until the last second.

After stretching your arms over your head, you leaned down to place the firewood near the pit, hoping it would be dry by the time you'd wake up to stoke the flames again. You looked forward to sleeping in your bundle of blankets, most of them knitted by you and warm as an oven when you slipped beneath them. Maybe tomorrow, the blizzard would have lifted, and you could see if there was any damage to your cabin that needed your attention as long as the good weather lasted before returning to the warmth and safety inside. Every day you got to plan it all by yourself for yourself, but you wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

That's why you jumped at the loud bang against the wood, halting in your tracks, wondering if you misheard. Maybe the blizzard had thrown a branch against your door? It couldn't be possible for anyone to come to visit in this weather, and wanderers would have to get far off the main trail across the mountain to reach your hut as well.

Bang, bang, bang!

This time, you were sure what you heard wasn't a coincidence. No branch or storm would make three consequent drums, with noticeable space in between. You felt your breath hitch as you stood there, motionlessly. Part of you wanted to inquire who it might be, but a bigger part just wanted to stand in silence, hoping they'd leave. There were many dangers when living alone, even if only a single one truly scared you.

"H-Hello?" someone called out from outside. The voice was shivering but youthful, and you felt a knot tie in your stomach at the thought it might be a lost child caught in the blizzard. You took a few cautious steps forward, listening, hoping for a sign that it was safe to open the door.

"Hello? I- I am lost... is there a place to rest tonight? Please, it's so very cold!"

Gnawing on your lip, you made a decision. Anyone daring to thread on a mountain in a snowstorm was foolish and weary of life. Still, they didn't deserve the freezing cold misery that would be dying in the blizzard. You unlocked the door, mourning the loss of warmth you'd experience any second now as you invited the cold and the stranger in, but you couldn't be responsible for their death either.

To your surprise, when you swung the door open, it wasn't the frame of a young teenager or that of a child that awaited you. The figure was lanky but hulking, covered in more clothes than even you had worn. The fur covered all of their body, face hiding behind a mask and under a hat, and the darkness made it hard to see their eyes. They didn't wait for you to invite them in, their body shaking as they took a deep, cold breath before they stomped their snow-covered boots into your wooden cabin.

You let them pass you, too surprised by their appearance to react. You honestly had expected someone younger, more fragile. Not someone seemingly in good health and strong. And thus the stranger stood, thickly veiled in fur and clothes that should have kept them warm but were now dripping as the snow clinging to them melted in the middle of your home, positioned like a statue.

"I-I'll get you a towel and a blanket," you mumbled, shaking out of the confusion and surprise. They still needed help, and though they appeared fine, you knew how tricky snow-related illnesses could be unless you prevented them at the earliest possibility.

Walking to your closet to grab what you needed, you listened to the shuffle of clothes behind you, not minding the stranger stripping out of their snow gear now that they were in the warm safety of your home. You were looking through your options, the presence of another person in your lonely life feeling strange, yet you were too focused on providing help to them to notice the floorboards behind you creaking.

"Found you~"

You yelped as ice-cold hands wrapped over your eyes, letting go of the blanket over your arm as you clawed at the stranger. Suddenly, the voice was much clearer and less youthful, and you were pulled back into a body that felt oddly familiar against yours.

"What are you--" you hissed angrily, prying the hands off your face and falling forward into your closet, hitting your temple against the wooden shelving inside. However, your body knew better, from years of experience, than to falter under the sharp pain, and you twisted around, looking into a scarily familiar face.

"Long time no see, my darling."

Your mouth felt like it had been filled with sand. You couldn't even gulp as you stared wide-eyed at your enemy, the very same one you ran from years ago. The exact same one you never wanted to see again.

"It was kind of cruel to leave me hanging, back at the prison, you know? It was so cold and so lonely without you, so I came looking for you the moment I was free. Ehh~? Did I make you speechless? Are you that happy to see me?"

"No..." you muttered, shaking your head. That couldn't be happening. No. No, no, no.

"You shouldn't be here... you can't be here! I left you... I left you there to rot! I traveled so far, how... How is this possible?!"

Even as your voice bordered on hysteric screeching, you felt the tears of frustration and defeat burn in your eyes. Your whole world shattered as you watched your enemy heave a sigh, his expression turning gentle, empathetic. Reaching out his hands he brushed them along your arm, your cheek, the cold prickling where your skin met. You flinched, jerking back, and he followed, always one step behind you. He was a liar, a complete and absolute liar, and you knew it from the moment he placed his thumb on your cheekbone, wiping away the tears. There was no bone in him that pitied you; his body and mind were filled with glee as he watched your misery bloom.

"Oh, dear."

Closing in, he trapped you between him and the closet, his cold hands cupping your face gently, but his nails dug into the back of your neck possessively. He won, and you both knew it.

"I told you I'll always find you. Took me a while this time, but you can't run from me. You're mine, remember?"

Oh, you remembered. You remembered too well the days lived in fear and the nights spent huddled together on the prison ground, forced into his arms out of need of warmth. The day the guards released you was the one where you swore you'd change your life around. That you'd no longer live in the perpetual horror this man installed.

But here you were as if nothing had changed at all. As if the years running had lost all their meaning.

"I'm so cold, darling," he whispered, even his breath was icy as he leaned in for a kiss. You knew exactly what he longed for, even if you didn't want to give it to him. He wanted the same submission, the same relenting as you had given him in prison, where you allowed him his freedom to assault you with his love. Where you couldn't have fought him even if you wanted to. And now that he had found you, you realized he hadn't changed at all. All he ever wanted was to change your life into the life he always envisioned for you two, where you were his slave, and he had free reign over you, finally getting what he had always wanted.

Your eyes darted to your bedside table.

"It's warmer under the covers," you mumbled against his lips, and he chuckled, rubbing his chapped skin against yours playfully.

"I didn't think you'd be this direct. I like it. Come, darling."

You allowed your enemy to lead you to the bed before climbing on his lap and gripping his hair to force his head back. "Where's this coming from?" he chuckled, and you felt sick just hearing his licentious voice. "No worries, I'll let you hold the reigns if it's what you want. At least for a while."

You'd hear no more words from his filthy mouth or stare any longer into the darkness swirling in his eyes. This had to come to an end, one way or another, but true to his word, he allowed you to guide him to lay down in your bed, hands falling to your thighs and grabbing at your ass. You felt the excitement tenting his pants beneath you, and you knew that in his delusion, he truly thought this was the moment you were caving to his desires, his demands of love that never existed between you two.

But instead, you slipped your hand into the drawer of your bedside table, feeling the cold steel of the knife you kept there for protection. Your past self had been so afraid of him showing up that you couldn't sleep without feeling it. Finally, your anxiety paid off.

You had learned your lesson; the fear would never stop as long as either of you were alive. You'd never be far enough away, never safe, never heal, and never truly be free unless one of you was dead. No one would find his corpse hidden on this mountain; no one would come looking for him, you were sure. And neither would they for you.

You thought you had done a great job getting away; had started to move on and get over what happened to you. But you hadn't. You couldn't do it again. Couldn't endure the horror to continue all your life and couldn't run away far enough to escape it.

You couldn't do it. Not again.

Never again.

[dark-and-kawaii]

You’re stuff is amazing, it’s pulling me into the Zevlor orbit. Seriously though. Just wanna straddle that man’s lap. Insecurities about his past and old age? Just lick up his ear to the point and whisper in the sluttiest voice I can. “Should I call you Commander?” Nip at the point. “Or Daddy?”

( •̀ω •́ ) hehehehe~ it’s what I aim to do!!! Please fall into this Zevlor pit with the rest of us!!! Join us!!! :3 we have fresh baked cookies and Zevlor, what more could you ask for??? *bites my lip and swallows* ughhhhh babes yes!!! This is making me pant!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Daddy or Commander ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Pairings: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

Content: NSFW - Lap Riding - Creampie - Tiny Angst??

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying teasing the man between your legs. You knew it had been a while for him, knew it’s been so long since someone straddled his lap and grinded themselves against his cock. It was easy to tell by the way he became so stiff and tense, like he wasn't sure where to put his hands. Or how to look into your eyes.

“You-“ his voice hitched- cut off when you began to move your hips a little faster, a little harder against him. You were driving him mad and he wasn’t even inside you yet…

“I~?”

The look in his eye could have killed you- had it not made you want him more. He looked so confused, so pained, yet in love all at the same time. Instead, a soft, pleased moan slipped out as he bucked his hips up against yours. His past began to haunt him, outcasted and tossed aside. Ridiculed and shunned. All the hurtful memories that would never leave him no matter how hard he tried to bury them deep, “You don’t need to take pity o-on me. Nor do you-“

You leaned down, kissing him deeply- silencing him, swallowing his words with your tongue. His lips tasted like the sweet, honey-glazed pastry you shared not too long ago.

The kiss left him dazed and panting, but his words never ceased. He couldn't let you do this, couldn't allow himself to be used and toyed with- not again, “The gap between us is also wide… I fear you are doing this for-“

You pulled back from his lips, staring him down, “Why does it have to be out of pity, commander~?”

The use of his title had his brows knit, and a low growl slipping passed his throat. He wanted nothing more than to flip the two of you over, and show you exactly who was in charge… But instead, his cock just twitched.

With a soft giggle, you continued on, leaning in closer, brushing your lips against his ear- nipping at it, “or would you prefer to be called daddy~”

His body shuddered- his control slipping, fingers gripping into your thighs.

He was going to break.

And you wanted it.

Needed it.

He needed it.

It didn’t take much to get him to give in. Lifting your hips just enough, he lined himself up- the tip of his cock smearing his precum against your damp folds.

He wanted to believe you- wanted to believe that your intentions weren't just out of pity or some sick joke. He wanted to believe that your feelings were real- that someone, did indeed love him.

And without warning him, with one single thrust- one single bounce, you were able to prove to him that it was the truth.

Your walls were so warm and wet, the feeling of his cock slipping into your depths was enough to make his head swim.

Stretching you out, you felt every inch as he pushed inside, filling you up. Every ridge, every vein. Hells he was large…

Zevlor tried to bite his lip to keep himself from cumming, but he could feel his ridges swell within you, your walls gripping him like a vice, and he had no choice. With a soft groan, his cum filled you.

You could feel his cock twitching, pulsating as he came. He was so deep, and you swore you could feel your tummy extend from how much there was. Gods, and those ridges on his cock were swelled so nicely massaging your insides. Your vision grew hazy, and with a breathless gasp, you came- clenching tightly around him.

His head fell against your shoulder, your own head falling back as you both groaned and moaned, lips parted,

“Tav-“

“Commander~”

Calling out for each other- you both came together, bodies tense and shaking, his arms wrapped around you… Your arms wrapped around his neck.

After a moment, the two of you began to laugh.

You weren't sure why, but you did.

It was just too good. Too perfect.

And as he lifted his head, pressing his lips against yours, you felt him grow hard once again.

[underthetree845]

(dazai osamu birthday post- 2024)

A Taste of Sunlight

Dazai Osamu/gn! Reader (oneshot)

cws: gn! reader (uses of 'bella(donna)') but gender not explicitly stated, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, ada dazai, ada reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, domestic love, domestic fluff, implied mutual pining, mentions of dazai's past suicide attempts, dazai's past spoilers, dazai's dark thoughts, dazai calling himself inhuman and undeserving, baking together, dazai's birthday, reader is dazai's safe space

wc: about 3.7k

summary: how will reader make dazai feel special on his birthday when he doesn't feel like he deserves to?

a/n: this turned out a little darker with dazai's thoughts than I thought it would, but i'm satisfied with how i wrapped things up! i know it's been awhile since i posted my own writing- burnout hit me pretty hard and it's been difficult to get back on my feet, but i knew i had to do something special for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Ceilings, plaster. Can’t someone just make it move faster? Abandoned bottles of sake scattered on the tatami mat floor of his bedroom catch the light of the late morning sun as it creeps in through the curtains he keeps forgetting to close. Or rather, the curtains he can never bother to close on certain nights. He never forgets, not really. The dusty little fan in the corner of his room does little to break up the lingering staleness which hangs in the air. You should really open a window in here Dazai-kun, he heard your voice echo in the basement of his mind, Sunlight and fresh air are good for you. You were probably right. Sunlight and fresh air are good for you, everyone knows that. You somehow always are right about him. 

The sun had already found his skin that morning- or rather, the shield of cloth he uses to hide the vast nothingness underneath. The icky, inhuman blackness that he would never allow a creature like you to even brush with your fingertips. For the first time that day since observing the sun come up out his window with hollow eyes and a blank expression, Dazai sat up. Ignoring the slight ache in his head and soreness of his muscles, bandages seeming to be the only thing holding him together, Dazai arose from his futon and silently slumped to his kitchen to down a glass of water. Today was a pointless day. One that shouldn’t have happened at all. Probably one of the worst of Dazai’s life, save for a few particularly nightmarish ones. Nightmares. Maybe he’d wake up, wake up as somebody completely different; or as an old man, and realize that the countertop in front of him and fingers wrapped around the sturdy white mug in his grasp were all really from a time long gone. The mug’s black, dotted on eyes stared back up at him, Dazai’s own brown ones focused, the emotion behind them simply indescribable. Part of Dazai feared waking up too. Something light, something warm, managed to flicker in the cavern of his chest at the memory of the grin that had spread across your lips upon presenting him with the cat mug. A grin you only ever seemed to take on for his eyes. You, he should be ashamed of himself for allowing skin so pure to meet with his own bloody, bandaged hands. Muddled flesh that hardly ever got a taste of the sunlight which always seemed to bathe the surface of your skin. Dazai Osamu had always been a sinner, would it really make his eternal damnation that much worse if he decided to linger in your comforting embrace for a moment longer? 

Yes, today never should have happened. The first one so many years ago, and all the years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret that followed. The number taunted him from the calendar Kunikida had insisted he hang up on his wall, your support in the idea being the only reason he had gone through with it at all. 06 19. The nineteenth of June. June 19th. Definitely some sort of horrible mistake by the gods of this universe. If they even existed. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. Most things can be predicted- whether it be by pattern of behavior… calculated likelihood, or something else of the like. Dazai thought- and still did- that it would be tragically poetic if the date of birth and the date of death on a gravestone perfectly matched. Right down to the date of the month. Yes, a perfectly beautiful idea of a gravestone Dazai had tried a handful of times to make his own. He had the scars to prove it. Aside from empty ‘happy birthday’s from the other executives, there were only really two people in the mafia who placed any sort of importance on Dazai’s birthday.  None of that mattered now. Of course, in reality, all of it mattered. It was what led him here, to the light which now poured in through the window in the living room of his little apartment. In the almost two years Dazai had been employed at the Armed Detective Agency, he’d had one birthday. He was new enough in the office last year that the prospect of his colleagues doing anything to commemorate the event was not very keen. Such was his hope. He did get a lollipop from Ranpo and a ‘happy birthday’ from Kunikida; the blonde did not get on Dazai’s back over his paperwork for the whole day. That was, until you first stepped foot into the agency a few months into Dazai’s employment. Ironically, in spite of all the warm welcomes you received from his colleagues, the brunette found himself extremely suspicious of you. No one could possibly charm that many detectives with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile. Not just anyone could possibly hold that much warmth in their laughter and still have so much to share. That smile of yours. Dazai had ended many lives for many different reasons, despite having failed at cutting his own short so many times. Rarely did he ever spill blood to protect someone- much less because of some irrational, sentimental attachment. If not for his years in the mafia, it probably would have frightened Dazai to realize how easily he would watch the world burn if it meant that smile of yours would be safe. As it turns out, Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t just anyone- you were Name. You, who he didn’t deserve to even stand anywhere near. Who shouldn’t even bother buying someone like him some cat mug that made you think of him. He never knew he could be so emotionally attached to a piece of ceramic. But that was nothing compared to the way you made his head spin.  You would let out a giggle while calling him a flirt for the millionth time. You would share your umbrella with him on a rainy day, circle his birthday in a bright red marker on the little calendar sitting neatly on your desk. The desk right across from his. He’d pretend to not notice the glances you steal because he knows he’s far worse. Buying each other coffee on occasion- usual orders memorized. Experiencing such simple pleasures on a weekly basis- how could anyone have not expected Dazai to fall as hard as he did? 

The thing that broke him out of his trance were four soft knocks on the door. The same way you would knock on the wood of his desk to discreetly get his attention. Dazai was about to dismiss the four knocks as a phantom of his imagination before they sounded again, causing him to turn his head and peer at the door as if it had just grown a pair of wings and flown away. Before you could get the chance to knock again or ring his phone, Dazai ran a bandaged hand through his scruffy locks before brightening up his expression slightly and opening the door. And there you were- not unlike the sunlight which flooded in through the entryway, the first thing you did was send prickles of warmth into his skin and allow that smile of yours to glow. 

“Ah, Bella! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Dazai greeted you with a singsong voice, “You’re looking as radiant as ever. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dazai held his mask up for the whole sixty seconds it took you to reply. In that time, your honeyed eyes scanned over the expanse of his face in a way only you could make so overwhelming. The grin on his lips, though meticulously crafted, failed to meet his eyes. He knew you could tell the moment your irises flickered with an emotion far too deep for Dazai to have the energy to explore. You somehow always were right about him.  It didn’t take much longer for you to ask if you could come in for a while, and Dazai accepted as if he’d ever have the strength to refuse. The fabric tote bag clunked with weight as you placed it on his kitchen counter, Dazai trailed behind you as if your torsos were connected by some invisible string. His eyes reminded you of a burnt black cat.

As far as cooking came, Dazai knew how to prepare a few basic things. How to scramble eggs, how to steam rice, how to use the microwave, how to open a can of crabs. It had always been too much of a nuisance to bother with anything more. The cigarettes and sake sustained him well enough. Even so, he found himself peering over your shoulder with dark, curious eyes as you unpacked several ingredients and laid them neatly on the counter.

“My my, did you go shopping for me? How thoughtful,” a small grin played on Dazai’s lips as he held up a tiny bottle of vanilla extract with an inspectful eye. Uncapping the bottle, he took a moment to inhale the scent, goosebumps rising underneath the bandages on the back of his neck at how much it reminded him of your usual shampoo.

“You like cheesecake, right?” you asked, voice a gentle breeze as you tilted your head in his direction. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. He paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow as you cleaned your hands in the sink. How you came to acquire such a fact was beyond him. Your fingers then reached out to preheat the oven, the one he usually didn’t spare so much as a glance. “I’ve only had the chance to taste it a handful of times, but I do have to admit, I’m a fan,” Dazai replied. You were smart enough to bring your own mixing bowls, pans, and stirring utensils. Sometimes he questioned how he ever allowed you to come to know him so well. “If you wanna help me, would you mind washing your hands first, please?” you requested, and Dazai didn’t even wait a moment before turning to the sink. 

You did a better job of filling his apartment with warmth and light than the sun ever could. From the way your shoes sat at the front door right next to his own to the way your perfume would linger around after you’d taken your leave. Your fingers would cup over his own as you demonstrated how to properly stir the ingredients together. He would internally curse the persistence of the butterfly in his chest when you commented on how pretty you thought his hands were. You made his sparsely decorated, thin-walled little apartment feel just a little more like a home. Dazai waited patiently with the batter in his arms as you pressed the buttery graham cracker crust firmly into the pan. If the universe were kind, he would have been allowed to stand there and take you in until the end of time. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever deserve to have someone like you in his life. Not the way your eyes softened when they met his, not the way you flushed so beautifully in response to his compliments and praise. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to give you as much as you deserve. He didn’t even come close to deserving the trust you must have had in him that evening on the metro, when you slept on the shoulder of his coat. Both of you missed your stops that day. How could anyone have expected him to have the heart to disturb you? They were the ones who whispered how he didn’t even have one.

Before he knew it, the cake was almost ready to be placed in the oven. Your fingers cupped his own once more as you helped him pour the batter evenly before scraping the last bit out with the blue silicone spatula from your bag. He spun the pan in a circle on the countertop to even the batter as you slipped a pair of well used oven mitts onto your hands. “Looks perfect,” you offered some gentle praise and he felt his heart soften. Once the batter had been slid into the warmth of the oven, you removed the floral print oven mitts from your hands and leaned against the counter with a sigh. Dazai’s eyes were drawn to the way your fingers were delicately folded in front of you, how soft your skin looked and how it might feel against his own. From the gentle curve of your lips to how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed… he found himself at a loss. You always somehow seemed to dwindle him to a shadow of his former self, bring out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. Out of all the crimes Dazai had committed in his life, stealing your heart was by far the worst one. He didn’t think he’d be able to give your heart back if he tried, especially when you held his own so easily in the palm of your hand. “Have you had water today?” you voiced, finally turning to bless him with your gaze. “I drank some just before you came, actually,” Dazai replied, eyes briefly flickering over to the now empty cat mug sitting on the counter. “Would you care for something to drink yourself? What might suit your fancy, m’lady?” He cocked his head playfully. Your eyes regarded his thoughtfulness. A look far too fond for someone like him. Especially from someone like you. “Some water might be nice, thank you.” “You know I aim to please,” he nodded slightly, opening the fridge to get his pitcher.

A little while later, a timer went off on your phone, and Dazai tilted his head when you slid the oven mitts back on and set the cheesecake on the stovetop. “Isn’t it a bit too soon, Bella?” he inquired, leaning over your shoulder as you grabbed a little green bowl that had previously been set aside, “The center still looks a bit too mushy, doesn't it?” You hummed slightly, a pleased expression crossing your face. “Look at you, getting more adept at cooking already?” a soft grin played on your lips as you gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek. “I’m learning from the best,” Dazai replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “You’re right, it’s not quite done yet, but I’m adding the topping now so it can cook a little with the cheesecake at the very end,” you explained as you carefully poured the topping on, “It’s usually done this way. Makes it yummier.” It’s wrong, Dazai thinks, to indulge himself in your company like this. There are a million other better ways you could be spending your time. Not taking the time out of your day to come fan a flame already at the end of its wick. Even so, even if a part of Dazai might never allow himself to fully believe what you say when you tell him what kind of person he is in your precious eyes, nothing but being in your arms has ever felt so close to what others might describe as home.  Not where he grew up, not his shitty old shipping container or the mattress on its rotting floor. Not any of the places he would lie awake at night hoping to waste away or any of the many bottles of sake that have met his lips. They filled his stomach, flushed his skin, but left his chest cold, barren, empty. “Cherries are in season this time of year you know?” you said, sighing at the scent of the mashed up fruit and sugar bubbling in the pan in front of you. Combined with the warm scent of the cheesecake wafting from the oven, even Dazai, whose appetite usually didn’t amount to much at all, found his mouth beginning to water. “Are they?” he tilted his head with a fond smile, imagining what it might be like to get used to having you in his kitchen more often. What a dream it would be to have coming home mean coming home to you. You looked so perfect in his apartment it almost hurt. Whether you were curled up on the cushions of his couch, cross legged on the floor, or standing in front of the stove pouring some homemade cherry sauce over a freshly made cheesecake, he would take it all. Savor every last bit of the warmth and light with which you filled his apartment.  ���Why don’t you open a window in here before we start eating?” you suggested, and Dazai let out a breath of resigned amusement. He stood from where he had been leaning against the countertop and strolled over to the living room. “Hm, Bella, don’t people usually eat cheesecake cold?” Dazai wondered, looking back at you for a moment as you grabbed a pair of forks from a drawer. “Yeah, they do,” you replied, placing two equally sized slices of cheesecake onto one of the plates from Dazai’s cabinet. He didn’t have to remind you where they were kept. “But personally I like eating it warm, I always have,” your lips curved up into a smile, “especially when it’s freshly baked. Makes it yummier.” “Huh, well I trust your opinion,” he offered a slight smile, returning to take a seat at the little round table just as the two plates were lowered. The cheesecake looked even more appetizing now that it had been neatly sliced and plated, but nothing made him want to eat it more than the fact that it had been prepared by the loveliest pair of hands he had ever met. 

Dazai took notice of the way you held your breath when he took his first bite; you shouldn’t have been so anxious for the approval from the likes of him, yet he found it hard to get himself to care when you looked so downright adorable while doing it. His eyelids slid shut for a brief moment, being sure to completely savor the mouthful before swallowing with a bob of his throat and finally meeting your gaze with his own. “Bella…” Dazai started, hands unmoving, voice lower than usual. You furrowed your brows when you couldn’t decipher his tone. “What is it? Is it okay?” you leaned forward, eyes searching his face for any sort of indication. “Do… do you not like it?” something pulled tight in your chest at the thought, your grip on your fork stiffened slightly, “It’s okay if you don’t, you can say so.” The following heartbeat of silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity. “Bella you’ve ruined me,” he sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat and placing the back of his hand on his forehead in exasperation, “How am I ever supposed to enjoy anyone else’s cheesecake ever again?” His heart nearly melted when you paired a blink with the slightest tilt of your head, he could see the wheels in your mind turning for answers. “So you… do like it?” you spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb whatever strange state of emotion Dazai was using to express his feelings about the cheesecake. “No, my Dear, I’m afraid ‘like’ isn’t nearly a strong enough word, not even close!” he suddenly sat up straight in his seat, “I love it so much, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy cheesecake ever again unless you make it for me.” Finally, Dazai gets his reward when a grin splits onto your lips. “Is that so?” you giggle when he cups your hands between his own and nods urgently. That smile of yours. “Absolutely. You’ve doomed me to a pathetic existence,” Dazai pretended to cringe in pain, “forever wandering in search of the joy I once experienced, never knowing if-” “...I’ll do it again,” you said, and his ears perked up. “Hmm? What was that? You’ll do what again?” he raised his eyebrows, satisfied with the flush now evident on your cheeks. “I’ll make you cheesecake for your next birthday, and the one after that, and any time you want some in between,” you smiled sweetly, and Dazai’s heart leapt at your sincerity. “Do you mean it?” his eyes seemed to light up slightly, matching the sparkle in your own. He squeezed your hands. 

There was a saying in the Port Mafia. ‘The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.’ Whether they called him a demon prodigy or the black wraith or a dog of the mafia really made no difference. When the sun set, they would be the ones quivering at the barrel of his gun as he listened to their pleas with cold, dead eyes. Dazai has been called by many names throughout his life; most, he knew, were well deserved. Even when addressed by his own name, it was usually out of exasperation, irritation, unease, or something else of the like. People spat his name with the bitter bite of a cold rain, and he couldn’t even remember the last time someone uttered his given name very tenderly at all. It was dangerous, Dazai thought, how easily he could see himself growing used to being with you like this. Pathetic, how the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia was reduced to a shell of himself the moment you offered so much as a smile. The way you said his name made him seem like something precious; something worthy of getting to see that smile of yours, to have your eyes light up when they meet his. 

“Happy birthday, Osamu,” you said, and god your voice had never sounded sweeter. Yes, you’ve ruined him. Absolutely ruined him. Reduced him to a shadow of his former self with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile, and the worst of it all was that you didn’t even know it. You tore away all those layers of bandages, you reached out and touched something Dazai didn’t even know he had. Even as his heart bled, you would cradle it close to your chest, whisper sweet nothings that everything would be alright. Dazai found himself inclined to believe you. Perhaps the reason he seemed to be without a heart for all those years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret, was because it had been with you all along. 

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

a/n: thank you so much for reading! it means a lot- i hope you have a lovely day/night/morning/evening and remember to drink plenty of water! divider credit: (x) (x) tagging: @ringsofsaturnnnn

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐣. 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

wasnt sure if you wanted smut so if you do just send another req and ill gladly make a pt 2, tysm for the request!

John Murphy - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ Murphy was always protective of you, so when he thought Jasper sparked an interest in you- he was quick to shut it down. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: sfw, kissing

Being an engineer meant I had to be around Monty and Jasper whether I liked it or not- and I did like it, they were my first two friends on the ground. Other than Murphy.

Murphy and I had been friends on the Ark before we got incriminated, he was my best friend. We always did everything together. Stealing, pranking, once even blasting music through the intercoms. I always smiled at the memories, they were the only good ones I made on the Ark.

I'd like to think Murphy was still my friend, but most of his old self had been glossed over with the new ego of being Bellamy's 'second in command' as they called it. I think Bellamy knows more than half of these people trust Murphy, or well they did. Bellamy could've been easily taken over without the title, now that people were more afraid of Murphy given his recent history.

What happened to 'whatever the hell we want'?

With Murphy playing leader, I was left with Monty and Jasper. I enjoyed their company greatly- as weird as they were. Out of the two, Jasper and I had been the closest, though, I knew nobody could take the 'best friend' title away from Monty. Not that I was shooting for it, anyway. I had my own things to worry about, things most people in this camp couldn't care less about; Murphy.

I was sitting by the campfire next to Jasper and Monty, it was a cold day, the sun was resting behind grey clouds and only peeking through every now and then. Jasper must've noticed how my nose turned color because he unraveled himself from the jacket that was previously hiding his lanky body and wrapped it around my shoulders.

I smiled at his gesture, not knowing a certain someone was looking, "Thanks, Jasp."

Jasper gave me a warm smile in return, "You need it more than me," While the gesture was sweet, he in fact needed it more. The fire didn't look like it was helping anybody.

"Have you guys seen Murphy?" I muttered. I had been meaning to talk with him and catch up on how he's been. I missed our small talks. With him playing leader he's been too 'busy'.

Monty's eyes began trailing something behind me, "Walking into the dropship, why?"

It took me a few seconds to get what he said, the coldness from before melting away as I hurriedly handed Jasper his jacket back and left- leaving them questioning.

My demeanor appeared nervous, I wasn't sure how he viewed me anymore with his new act. We hadn't sat down and talked since we landed, I was sure he had already forgotten about me. But you don't know until you try, right?

Moving past the red tarp we used as a door I saw no sight of Murphy, I was about to give up when I heard a loud slam from the level above. It had to of been Murphy.

I swiftly made my way up the ladder and pushed open the hatch with a loud grunt.

"Murphy?" I asked as I stood up and dusted my hands off.

"Look who it is." A voice came from behind me, his tone was full of annoyance. I wasn't sure if the annoyance was towards me.

"This was a bad idea." I said, heading towards the hatch.

Murphy sighed and threw his head back, "Bored of flirting with Jasper?"

His sentence made me stop in my tracks, no way he thought that, right? He couldn't possibly think me and Jasper were more than friends, no offense Jasper. I felt anger bubbling in my chest as my face conformed to one of confusion as I tried to think of how he could've possibly came to that conclusion.

He took my silence as a sign to explain, "Where's his jacket?" The dots seemed to finally connect, he was jealous of Jasper.

Murphy was jealous of Jasper?!

No offense Jasper.

A wave of relief hit my body as I let out an exaggerated exhale, which only seemed to annoy Murphy further. I was relieved that's the only thing he was frustrated with, I'd never expected to see Murphy jealous over somebody interacting with me. I knew he was protective but I didn't think he was that protective.

"Me and Jasper are just friends, Murph," I said, my shivering hands going unnoticed by me.

"Friends don't sit that close, I see you guys talking like all the time," Murphy expressed, his brows furrowing as his voice grew more stern. He started walking closer to me and I took a few steps back, my back hitting the cold metal wall which sent shivers down my body.

"What're you doing?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"What I should've done a long time ago," Murphy's hands reached for my cheeks, the warmth of his palms engulfing them as his lips met mine.

I was shocked but I wasn't planning on moving away, I swore Murphy could've heard how fast my heart was beating. After a few seconds, my eyes fluttered shut and I leaned into the kiss, bringing my arms up around his neck only pushing him in more.

His body was flat against mine, the closeness brought a nice warmth to my body. His lips felt rough against mine and his nose fit cozy next to my nose.

I didn't have any thoughts, my mind went blank, and the only thing I was thinking about was how good Murphy tasted. My hands ran through his hair and his fingers ran across my jawline. Murphy was the first to pull away, leaving me feeling a sense of loss and emptiness- already missing the way his lips felt.

Murphy smirked almost like he sensed how I felt, he leaned into my neck and began sucking, leaving traces of him all over my neck. I gasped out at the feeling, but I didn't complain, I wanted people to know I was Murphy's.

After a while, Murphy finally felt satisfied with the amount of markings he made, not that I could see.

"Now everyone will know who you belong to," He gave me his classic shit-eating grin, clearly feeling full of himself as he admired the hickeys he left.

"Shut up," I said with a smile.

"Make me," He said, shrugging off his jacket and placing it into my hands, "Next time, just ask."

His fingers trailed along my jawline again, stopping at my chin and swiftly pulling me into another quick kiss, causing me to form a blush on my cheeks.

I was his.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˓ @ taglist. ৎ ᐟ ۫

@yokolesbianism @itzdarling

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY?   ઉ   PAC

Hello, angels! I hope you're well. I'm bringing in another nosy type of reading. We'll look into who this person really is and if any advice comes up. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com via paypal! xo ♡

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୨୧ PILE ONE

who is this person, deep down? two of cups ✧ the hermit ✧ judgement

This is someone who values meaningful, deep, soulful relationships. They do not crave the buzz of parties or endless chatting with strangers. They don't like small talk. Others may describe this person as an old soul, someone introspective and wise. Their friends turn to them for honest and sensible advice; they may be an older sibling, or someone who's seen as a role model in some type of way.

Unfortunately, this wisdom came at a cost. They have endured a thousand inner deaths in life. This person had to start over many, many times, but they always got back up. As strong as they are also loyal, they're mature and still believe in the magic of being surrounded by good people. Strong Virgo and Scorpio energy, given the cards you got.

It's likely they came from poverty or are enduring a financial loss at this moment in time. Since this person is hardworking and independent, I don't think you have anything to worry about - sadly or not, they're more than used to the weight of their shoulders.

Although they're not expressive with their emotions or thoughts, you can count on this person to be sincere. They seem heavily protected by something greater, something bigger. For most of you, this person is spiritual, but not religious. They're very private and you may have a hard time understanding them or figuring them out.

channeled words & songs: black and white, heavy as led, test of time, a drop of water, night of the soul, life path 7, seek solitude, "i'm always okay", read my mind by the killers, runaway horses, small towns.

quotes that remind me of this person

Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts? — Darshana Suresh.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. — Friedrich Nietzsche.

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. — Sigmund Freud.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is this person, deep down? five of swords ✧ the world ✧ the moon

Accomplished, but lonely. It's how this person feels as I shuffled. They have seen and known so much, but it came at the cost of their morals. This person holds many secrets - even from themselves. Nothing dark, but they do regret their ways at times. With how competitive and aggressive they can be, it's difficult for them to hold onto anything but their success.

They may be famous or well-known in some way. Renowned. A lawyer, a judge. Someone with a fair share of experience and authority in a certain field. But my God, how their words can hurt. Have you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword? Yeah, that's this person.

Even when they bask in the glory of being so accomplished, no one really knows this person. Not even themselves, as I said. They're scared of vulnerability, emotions and intimacy. They're scared of the things the Moon tries to show them: their deepest fears, the nightmares and past traumas they've tried to bury deep down.

Interestingly, despite the cards, I get heavy Aries energy. This person may be an Aries Moon, quite a complex placement to have. They're good at being logical and practical, good at the doing, at the speaking, but they don't have the time for people, for emotions... for friendship or family. Given their history, it's likely they shut themselves off from connections out of fear.

I don't think they're happy. They look happy, they look so beautiful, so otherworldly, but inside of them there's this urge for something else. Something more meaningful.

channeled words & songs: ambitchous, aries, sagittarius, "i want it i got it", "let my money talk", chest pains, life path 8 or 9, neon pink, overprotective, oh no! by marina, terrible love by the national, bank account.

quotes that remind me of this person

I live to succeed, not to please you or anyone else. — Marilyn Monroe.

My worst fear - that's anyone's worst fear - is to lose myself and become an empty person. And that happens a lot when you're very ambitious. — Marina Diamandis.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is this person, deep down? two of pentacles ✧ the sun ✧ four of pentacles

What an interesting contradiction, it seems. The person on your mind is generous, extroverted and.. quite the busy bee. Their outer persona remind me of J-Hope from BTS, very caring and extroverted - someone who's got an infectious laugh, but despite his bubbly appearance, he's actually very caring and protective.

Although they may seen foolish, this person is anything but. They're quite careful and at times, intense. However, I don't think many people get to see this more serious and protective side of them. They seem guarded for the right reasons, because they know their heart is quite precious and too much of a good thing to be given away so easily.

It's possible they come off as brain-scattered or high maintenance to you, but they're genuine and one of their main purposes in life - whether they know it or not - is to bring joy to others. They're so good at it. It's not a party without this person, with or without alcohol, they know how to lighten up the mood and are an amazing team player.

It feels cheeky too. I think they like the dad jokes, the lighthearted atmosphere, but they know when to be serious. If I am to be honest, this person is an amazing partner (in case you're asking about a romantic interest) and an even more amazing friend. Someone who'll cheer you up and stick by your side through thick and thin. A very dear friend.

channeled words & songs: heart-shaped, light up a joint, weed, recreational drugs, easy breezy, life of the party by shawn mendes, 9 to 5, bisexual, lgbt+, rainbow, friend-shaped, dogs, cats, energetic, rap.

quotes that remind me of this person

The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.— Bob Marley.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. — Robin Williams.

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. — Unknown.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is this person, deep down? ace of cups ✧ ten of swords ✧ seven of cups ✧ the lovers

I feel like whoever you're asking about is in a brand new mode. They seem to be someone who was previously overburdened by their past. This person is in a major transformative phase, both physically and internally. They have endured so much, it's heartbreaking just thinking about it. I don't think they're very open about it though, at least, they weren't before.

Honestly, this person may have suffered from addiction, major losses or betrayal. They're getting back up after a period of darkness. Spirit's referencing their current phase more so than they actually are, because I believe they haven't yet fully come to really be who they are. They're shedding the person they had become, in order to be who they were meant to be.

They seek a new beginning, new friendships, good, better choices. It seems this path they're on has just begun, so they're a bit.. amazed at the options being offered. Still, this person wants to choose well for themselves and the people they love. They've regained a great love for the world. I feel filled with wonder, with enthusiasm for what's to come. Like anything and everything is possible.

Although they may seem immature, they've seen a lot. They've had to fight to survive through their worst and now, they're learning to let joy and love in. They've come to realize their power, the magic in who they are and learning to accept that this too shall pass. However, this person feels peaceful yet determined, broken yet healing, quite balanced in their aspects. A thinker and a feeler.

channeled words & songs: ego, healing, therapy, six of cups, innocence, yet to come by bts, mbti types, dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen, "a do-over", "maybe", shufflemancy, spiritual, 777, 333, psychedelics, hippie, hologram, offline, nature.

quotes that remind me of this person

I go to seek a Great Perhaps. That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps. — John Green.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. — Steve Jobs.

I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it. — Warsan Shire.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

who is this person, deep down? two of wands ✧ six of wands ✧ page of cups

A courageous, successful individual. This person has a lot of wanderlust. They are in love with life, in love with themselves, in love with the world. They like to be on the move, to party and be around other people they also admire.

However, they have an impulsive, non-committal side to them that is expressed mainly in the way they approach relationships, especially romantic wise. They have a fear of settling, so they're always on the go, on the search for the next best thing in every way. They may move a lot or have a different crush everyday. Although it isn't inherently bad, I think this person may come off as hard to pin down.

In reality, they're enthusiastic and ready to take on the world. They like the spotlight, they have big dreams too. It gives me Leo energy, in the way they love to be praised, to be adored. Depending on who you're asking, this may be polyamorous or they just enjoy being single and free. Many people describe this person as free-spirited and bold.

At times, their words and behaviors get the best of them. They're not good at keeping secrets and may have quite a temper when angered. They mean well, but there's a diva-like side to this person that can be egocentric or immature, since they've got a bit of a one track mind when it comes to their dreams. They're also very beautiful and they know it. It's also quite the ego boost to be around them - they love to give out compliments and flirt.

channeled words & songs: bisexual, "himbo", bucketlist, pinterest, clean girl era, "i want everything", poetry, interlude: shadow by bts, parallel universe, edm, party girl, wild, erratic, center of attention, instagram, social media influencer, blogger, barbie movie, hungry heart by bruce springsteen, rumors by ross lynch (this song started playing after i finished the section above! very relevant).

quotes that remind me of this person

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days. — Sylvia Plath.

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles. — Audrey Hepburn.

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷  Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷  Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho

Chapter 1: Behind the chain

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.

FIC MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”

As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.

As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could hear the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.

But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.

You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.

Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.

Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.

You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.

"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.

“I missed you.” You playfully answered.

The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.

“Sure you did.” He huffs.

In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.

Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.

It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.

The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.

But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:

Who will we be to each other?

How will we change each other’s lives after this?

You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.

One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.

Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.

"Get that shit away from my face."

“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”

“Stop.”

Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.

He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.

You straightened your lips and raised your brows.

"Well, you should've done that sooner."

He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.

"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."

Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.

"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.

You hum. "I'm what?"

".. so fucking unbearable."

"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.

"Want a hit?"

"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."

A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."

Miles looks at you, horrified.

"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"

He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.

"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.

"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."

Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”

“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”

“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”

He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.

And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.

"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."

He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."

As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.

"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"

"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."

"Then why'd you come here?"

"Felt bad for ya."

You smirk. "So you did miss me."

He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.

"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"

He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."

"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."

The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.

Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.

It was damning.

Dangerous even.

As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.

"... Huh."

Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.

"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."

He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"

A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.

"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."

Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.

Eyes downcast and hands shaking.

"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.

"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."

"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."

"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."

"You're in a band?"

"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."

He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."

"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.

"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."

"Oo, make me."

He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.

"Hey, pretty boy.”

Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.

"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.

He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.

"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"

"Hol' on."

"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"

"Be patient."

And you did just that.

He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.

"... Ya already know what to do, right?"

"Mm, yeah."

An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.

"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"

"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"

"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."

Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.

You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.

He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.

As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.

But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.

But no one spoke of it.

"... You done?" He groaned.

"In a bit, hol' on."

You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.

You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.

And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."

His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”

"It's a capitalist world we live in."

"No shit."

The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.

"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”

“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”

You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”

Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”

“… You’re kidding.”

“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”

You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.

“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”

“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”

Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.

You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.

“Careful.”

"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.

"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.

"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."

"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."

“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”

You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”

“Ain’t nobody told you that.”

“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”

“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”

You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”

“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”

“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”

“Then what do you do at home?”

You blink.

“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.

“I do that too, dumbass.”

You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”

You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah.”

The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.

“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."

"Places like an abandoned subway?"

“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”

“That’s what it sounds to me.”

"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”

Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."

The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.

“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”

Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.

Yeah, you’re doing great.

Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”

“Okay, what the fuck.”

“When you go low, I go LOWER.”

In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.

Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.

You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.

"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."

The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."

Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.

"... There's some truth to that, I guess."

"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.

Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.

"... Maybe."

“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”

“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.”

You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”

A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.

Then he called out your name softly.

You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.

“What?” You whisper.

His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.

Then and there, you knew.

But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.

We can’t.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.

"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"

Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.

“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."

As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.

You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."

Confusion was scribbled all over his face.

"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”

You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.

Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."

"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."

"Que?"

"Queso."

You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.

“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”

For a moment, you pause to laugh.

“Are you worried about me?”

He nods. “I am.”

“I— wait, what?”

He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”

Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.

It was breaking you open.

You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”

“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”

There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.

“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”

Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.

“Aight.”

[sweets1n]

TAG DUMP.

[1eoness]

CHANGE.

cw: re4remake leon... just a lil more rude than usual. covers very sensitive topics: theft and surrogate prostitution (not mentioned), SUPERRR NOT CANON.

nsfw cw: DUBCON i think? (always practice safe and consensual sex) (slight-enemy smut idfk) dom!re4remake leon kennedy x sub! fem/afab-reader. size kink, creampie?? spit kink?? squirting?? mild degradation, pet names, feminine terms... straight up porn tbh i dont even know BRUHH WTFI DONT EVEN KNOW THE THINGS I WRITE

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

synopsis :

your job is simple. as long as you exploit and delude the men at the top of the social pyramid, ada sponsored you with her safety and training. though, your naivete made it easy for ada to convince you that you weren't just some dirty pawn stationed in a particular estate—which happens to be leon's next mission area.

when he encounters you to perform your arrest, leon prays to any god up there that he has the patience not to mess you over for turning into the person you've become today.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

"— just listen to me, damn it!" leon scolded as he tugged onto the metal that strung your cuffed wrists together, cutting your retorts off with your abrupt grit of pain. your insistence of denying his chances without hearing him out made you more irritable than you already were. "you have no idea what you're carrying. you're gonna start a fucking epidemic if you take that anywhere near ada, you understand?"

it was understandable. you were carrying a formula. some unethical, potent 'opium' derived from a variant of the t-virus. freshly baked by some ex-umbrella geeks, it was marketed to be an effective drug, planned to be distributed to some sort of paramilitary in spain to modify their strength to inexplicable heights (which was proved to be false, yet some arrogant virologists insisted it had potential, so unethical 'scientists' wanted to get their hands on improving it). that's all you know about it, anyway.

leon's true nature behind his words rooted from the fact that he was fucking worried for you and it's not only because of the position that ada put you in right now. that enigmatic woman, treating you like some guinea pig and you couldn't even see it. it surprised leon that you were even alive.

leon knew you way before ada discovered you in that dark junction, before you dropped out of police academy without a word and went back to your old ways of 'getting through life'.

leon was your role model. he was the first one to make friends with you while you stood 'incompetent' in that academy.

but people dug their eyes in you because of your history. all it takes is a few facebook searches and some names for the other fellow cadets to define you using your past. and when the awareness rose to leon, he was the first one to defend you.

the eidetic memory of you; you were sat on a hall bench with his jacket hung loosely over your dropping shoulders, gripping an unopened water bottle that turned lukewarm. your fingers felt numb from the tremors of anxiety, and the broodingly saddened look in your eyes.

he was knelt in front of his dear friend, trying to reassure you that people can change, and you were already making those efforts. his thumbs held your palms when with a serious tone, encouraged you into promising him that you will never change; because you are a sweet girl and you never deserved to be shamed for something you thought was your survival. within this promise, he also promised you that as long as you kept your self-faith you will never go back to what you hated being. you should've seen how genuine his smile look when you chuckled sheepishly, the flush on your cheeks earning a double reasoning.

and now, it pained him more to realize that he regrets not making another promise, one he held back from saying that night. don't leave him.

a very selfish, unwarranted yet passionate part of him believes that you'd been so cruel to him, abandoning him like that. and now you want to leave again?

now you're being reprimanded by the cop who you looked at like he was a hero.

where was the bright cadet in those eyes, the one that looked up to him?

and it was just great of you to articulate further on how much he underestimated your stubbornness."i'm slowing you down. if it's not me (who will escort the sample), it's gonna be ada. you thought she was a one-man job? that you can somehow negotiate with her because you guys fucked once? my god, have you ever changed?-" out of being so naive? but the words don't follow because he knows you were going to say it.

leon's hand slid from your back to grip harshly at the back collar of your shirt, lifting your chest up from the table abruptly. he locked eyes with you, hidden tension bubbling the air like odorless toxins. he scoffs, and his low voice turned deliberate as he tried to spell the irony out for you. "ada. doesn't. work with people. she uses them, and you're not some 'special exception'."

and it's true, he knows it all too well..

"she uses... people like you." you were quick to correct him indignantly with a struggling breath. leon knew nothing about you and ada. ada was like a big sister to you. she taught you what you couldn't learn at police academy. she understood where you came from, and she knows the lowest moments in your life. but leon knew all of that too, didn't he?

"you know why?"

he scoffs. "enlighten me." and there was a subtle increase of tightness in his grip, eyes narrowing down at your bent-over body in anticipation.

"'cause you're a fuck up, kennedy."

upon hearing your quips, he thought maybe he should add a small noise of pain to it, because he flushed you further against the surface with a force that hinted irritation. he had enough of this pointless hissing. "listen, y'little bitch..." he gruffed with the mere frustration surging his voice. he's probably never addressed a woman like that, but oh, how people can shift within the span of their emotion. "you have the sample, now tell me where it is. and if you have it, then you know what to do."

leon wasn't confident that you had the item on you, knowing ada was most likely using you as a decoy. he didn't want to hurt you. even if you've looked like you've changed; to him, you haven't..

of course you were holding the "formula", leon was just dumb enough to think you actually had it on you. your eyes fluttered before you laughed emptily in heavy breaths, peeking over your shoulder whilst he did not let up on you. your torso was starting to fucking hurt. but so was your pride. "then come get it, rookie." you baited.

you ignited an internal burn he didn't even know he had. one that reached the peak of its abrasion.

"..fuck you." he growled inaudibly before you yelped, feet off the ground. and fuck ada, too.

��︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

if you were gonna keep acting like a brat, he was going to fuck you like one.

his hand came behind your head, locking your hair in a tight grip while you felt his tongue glide against yours in a messy kiss. an overwhelming amount of affectionate frustration surged as he propped you up firmer on that desk. he ate your whines as he tired your damp mouth out, the rising feeling of grudge-rooted sexual frustration pining somewhere inside him hotly.

"why do you hate me so much, mmm?" he gasped quietly for a breath, his hand letting go of your hair and holding both sides of your hips, hastily pulling your pants up mid-thigh. he needed to be inside you, he just needed it so bad..

"cause you're .. hhah.. y-you've become too cocky f'your own good, kennedy-" leon scoffs at the sight of you drooled up with the trails of mixed saliva. you're sure that's not you? you could've fooled him, you were fucking sopping—trails of your essence sticking to your underwear. it made him moan low in desperation. he wanted to lick it all up. "is that right.." he muttered with utter lack of amusement as his cold thumb glided over your fluids absentmindedly, spreading one fold apart slightly to get a better look. his eyes soften, breath hitching knowing it's gonna feel so good inside you.

"d-definitely too cocky!-" you insisted with a contrast whine that emitted from your sweet voice, expecting him to start off with letting you adjust to his tip first. but you're hopeless for thinking leon would ever go soft on you just because you only remember the "naive" version of him years ago. people change, right?

you were suddenly squirming when you felt him fill and thrust into you thickly, humbling your little cunny as it pulsated. dumb little bunny, leon thinks to himself, watching you start to fluster and retort weakly beneath him with your ankles on his shoulders.

his hand comes up to your head, smacking your cheek swiftly. "shut up. shut the fuck up." he growls, eyes narrowing mildly, holding your cheeks with one hand as he pried your little mouth open. his thoughts were so guiltily dirty, wondering how cute your throat would look filled with his cock. he'll have to try another time, though, wouldn't he? for now his ring and middle finger deliberately slide into your tongue, savoring the minor 'hhnnn' that lolled out of your sticky tongue as your eyes peered up at him glassily.

the words 'fuck me' were written all over your eyes when his gaze locks down to yours. and could he resist such a pretty baby?- why were you so pretty?

it's a shame that you made so much effort to treat him indifferently, calling him by his last name and all...

your vision felt cloudy given that you were full of leon. but you catch glimpse of the way he smirks at himself before he leans down much closer to your face, folding your legs over and not giving a fuck if it hurts. the simple shift in angle had you crying out as his tip grazed over the right spots.

he spits a string of saliva down into your forced-open mouth, hoping it would furtherly aid in getting you to shut up over something so trivial. "so fucking dirty..." his fingers gently traced your bottom lip while he whispers with mock-disgust, yet it's laced with affection- a twisted pair of feelings that has him needing you at incalculable rates.

his hands come down to the exposed flesh of your hips, fingers dipping into your skin as he holds you still on his girth. it felt even better when you could feel his bulging size rub up inside you hastily— the way he was fucking you fervently and not letting you get away. you're never fucking leaving his sight, or his mind.

"h-how's this for.. uhh-..nngh.. being cocky? huh?" he groaned roughly after stammering with the embers of his frustration. leon's frustrated that he can't speak without stammering, so he takes it out on you with punishing thrusts that have you sobbing louder, mending his ego by ruining yours. he's stripping your pride away with each push into your sweet spots.

you gave in, vulnerable as you started to blabber from the way you were getting your breath knocked up. "hnggghh.... ahh!-.. l-leon!~ n-not there!-"

"there it is.." he mutters to himself sweetly mid-fucking-you-full. you're finally talking to him properly, how cute.. "more, baby?" he taunts with a struggling moan but he doesn't let you react; the only reaction he wants is you reducing beneath him, proving it by his fingers bruising your skin as he rammed into you in a desperate pace. "ngghh uhh.. fuck-" he whines loudly, your hole squelching uncontrollably as he fucks the juices out of you with every sweet drag of his sensitive shaft.

you turn him so soft he hates you for it.. he has such a soft spot for you, doesn't he?

"fuuck, this pussy's.. so good.." his eyes were half-lidded, moaning adorably before whining about the fact that he's about to spill a load inside you. "f-fuck, 'so good, please- mnnnnghh- aahh!~" his voice wavered, still driving his cock into you as he breaks through his limits and makes himself whimper gently, tears softening his eyes.

oh but his poor baby, creaming around his shaft so quickly and relentlessly, only to continue being rutted into like a little toy ♡. he coats your sweet little hole with his cum, flooding and painting it all over as his tip poured deep inside of you with a thick, milky warmth that pooled on the varnished wood.

you weren't even speaking anymore, your words melting on your tongue. he doesn't understand a damn thing you're saying but he doesn't need you to speak, he just needs you to feel good.

"fuck... uhhhnn!~.. fuck me, please, baby.." he blathers before he found himself whining at the way your cunt pulsates, eyes teasing at you subtly while he holds your cheeks together in his domineering hand. he doesn't even pull out much, just shoving and grinding his girth into your creamed-up cunny and making you endure the crushing pleasure. his hands scramble to push against the back of your thighs, folding them to let him fully fill up into your already deflowered, milky vulva.

"n-no, g'nna- leon!" your mind goes into total shudder as your back arched, having him hold your hips in place as you started to gush all over his stuffy girth.

"ohh, mhmm.. that's it, sweet girl.." leon knows you feel good, seeing you cry flusteredly while he still thrusted in you to lengthen the feeling of you cumming. he tore at your pride, pulling out the vulnerable version of yourself he hasn't seen in a long time. especially when you reach up for him like you wanted a hug. that did it for him.

he leans down to pick you up, your legs dangle tiredly around his waist. he's sorry to whoever's bed it was that he laid you down on. he whimpered softly into the fabric of your shoulder while trying to regain his stability. you could faintly feel him pepper tame, short kisses on it mindlessly.

he nuzzles into your skin. "you wanna be a good girl f'me?" he murmurs into your neck breathily.

"mhmm.."

"then get on your knees." leon lets go from holding you—letting you scramble onto all fours.

he stuffs himself back inside your sensitive hole like he's aching for it, making you wail with struggle. with your legs aimlessly sprawled on either side of him, he makes sure you don't stray from him by holding your hips again. the flesh spilling between his fingers as he pulls you closer like he's scared you'll run away. his hips move irrationally, wanting to make sure he's hitting it good, all the right spots again, just for his baby. he's so sensitive it starts to throb, masochistic urges as he overstimulates himself ceaselessly.

"hhhngh... you can't just.. come around- and then leave- like it's nothing!-" leon babbled whiningly between his forceful thrusts, his pace increasing with incessant speed. you could feel his fingers nimbly moving through your scalp, leon's hand holding the back of your head down onto the fluff surface where your cute little cries of pleasure went in vain.

you couldn't take it but leon made you, his constant rutting inside you even after cumming doesn't pause. he's suffocating this way but he doesn't even care. he's so loud behind you, fucking into your messy cunt like it hurts real good.

his attention is divulged slightly when he sees a little glow on the pocket of your shirt. how didn't he spot that? his hand snakes over your breast, fingertips swiftly snagging the high-tech vial and shoving it somewhere in his remaining clothing.

you yelped. ada was going to kill you. "h-hey!-" he notices you trying to look behind you but his hand is quicker, turning your head forwards with a gentle grip of his hand. he muffled your face into the sheets with the force of his hand holding your head, and he snaps his hips faster just to have you all adorable and crying for him again. "y'c-can't take tha-" oh, but what were you going to do about it?

he starts deliberately making up mistranslations of what you wanted to say. "mm, what's that, sweet girl? you want more?... oh, i know, baby, oh shh.. i got'chu, you're so good, huh? uhhuh.." he encouraged amidst fucking you back into a state of distraction, a hazy smile to himself while he considers his mission accomplished.

[agronzky]

⠀⠀⠀𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑. ♡

⠀⠀⠀below you will find 20 creative questions about family designed to deepen your character building. such questions can also be used as ask meme or pov starters.

What is the dynamic of the character's family? Are they close and united or distant?

Who is the most influential figure in the character's life within the family?

Does the character have siblings? If so, how is their relationship with them?

What is the character's favorite family tradition and why is it significant?

How does the character deal with family conflicts? Do they avoid them or face them directly?

Does the character have a parental role model or do they prefer to chart their own path?

What is the character's most memorable childhood memory involving the family?

How does the character behave at family gatherings? Are they sociable or more reserved?

What did the character learn from their parents or relatives that influenced their adult life?

Are there any family secrets in the character's past that still affect them today?

Does the character maintain old family traditions or seek to innovate and create new ones?

How has the relationship between the character's parents or guardians shaped their beliefs and values?

Is the character more like a specific family member? How is this reflected in their personality?

What is the character's relationship with their grandparents? Do they play an active role in their life?

Does the character feel pressure to meet family expectations? How do they deal with it?

How would the character describe their childhood in terms of family support and love?

Is the character's family traditional or more open to different lifestyles?

Has the character ever had a serious disagreement with a family member? How did this affect their relationship?

How does the character define the concept of family? Who do they consider to be part of their "family" apart from their biological relatives?

How does the character feel about their role in the family? Do they take on responsibilities, do they seek to be the link between the members or do they prefer a more independent approach? How does this influence their identity within the family?

[ellebakers]

☆ She's back

Jill Roberts x reader (platonic)

part one ; part two (part of "desire" serie)

tag list : @callsignwidow @dandylovebot @hopeswifesblog @sthidk @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

Summary : look like your old babysitter is back.

Warnings : mention of ethan + mention of death + blood + mention of past abuse.

you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time when kirby asked you, for the umpteenth time "are you sure ?"

"yes, I tell you again and again, it was jill, she was the one who picked me up after ethan stabbed me and for several days she gave me blood infusions before taking me to the hospital."

the blonde was pacing in front of your hospital bed. chad, sam and tara didn't dare say anything, after all, someone who wore the ghostface mask had helped them in the theater, and that person said they hadn't killed in a while. mindy on the other hand was jumping for joy, she was throwing out lots of theories about the return of jill roberts.

"it makes sense, everyone knows that to definitely kill ghostface, you have to aim for the head, except that." she paused to tone down her theory. "sidney didn't shoot her in the head." kirby stopped in her tracks and turned to mindy.

"she shot her in the heart. no one can survive that."

mindy pointed her index fingers in the air "michael myers yes." everyone groaned in despair at the brunette's argument.

tara clears her throat "listen, even though it seems unreal that jill is alive. someone gave us a hand there, and that ghostface stopped at you. that person could have killed us all but she didn't."

kirby was silent for a moment, what the young carpenter was pointing to made sense. she ran a hand over her face then leaned on the end of the y/n bed.

"very well. do you remember where was the place where she put you ?"

"it was an apartment."

kirby threw her head back, growling "that's not really helping us y/n."

you were beginning to lose patience. "sorry, but I was slightly in a daze. i only woke up at times when she was giving me something to eat and drink or when she was changing my infusions. i didn't really have time to ask her for her address. "

kirby pinched her lip to keep herself from getting mad at you. it wouldn't have been fair, but learning that jill was still alive brought back bad memories for the blonde.

"okay, here's what we'll do. I'll take you back to the scene of the assault, and you'll try to remember the road she took to bring you home."

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

coming back down that alley hurt you. no matter how much you told herself that ethan was dead, you couldn't think of anything other than that night. you moved forward a little more and froze when you saw the trace of blood on the ground. it had been weeks since the incident happened and yet there was still this red mark on the ground. a reassuring hand rested on your shoulder, you turned your head and saw tara.

"are you ok ?"

you nodded slowly and smiled at her to try to convince her. "yes thanks."

tara was not convinced and she made you understand. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before telling her what had been eating you up since that night.

"if i hadn't been so dumb, if i hadn't slept with him, we wouldn't be here. i mean, i really thought he wasn't like the others. do you realize what it would have been like if I had died that night. she died after letting a guy she barely knew fuck her."

your best friend stood in front of you, this time, she took both your shoulders. "y/n, no one could have guessed that ethan would do such a thing. you don't have to feel guilty. you gave yourself to a guy who didn't deserve it, you made a mistake but it happens to everyone."

you laughed lightly "not everyone bleeds out after a mistake."

she opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded. "It's true, on this one you screwed up." her comment made you laugh. "but you know what i mean. sam dated a psychopath and i was best friends with one. but we are still here, despite our mistakes, whe have survived and we also know that we will make mistakes again but it does not matter, it is part of life."

you nodded, she was right. "thank you tara."

"anything for you." she said to you with a tender smile.

you looked one last time at the trace of blood then you continued to advance, in search of memories.

—

you had been looking for an hour but nothing came back to you and you were starting to get impatient. your friends were starting to get impatient too, the night was starting to fall as well as the cold.

"you should go back to the hospital."

"come with us." sam told you.

you shook your head gently, smiling kindly at her. "i'm going to stay a little longer and then, i promise i'll be back."

mindy stepped forward. "i stay with you." you opened your mouth to protest but she held up her hand to stop you from speaking. "don't even try to negotiate with me."

you rolled your eyes but accepted, having her by your side reassured you.

kirby walked over to both of you and pointed a finger at you. "if you have any problems, you call me okay ? anyway, i'll drop them off and come back here."

"i promise."

the blonde nodded then she took your friends to the main street where the car was.

mindy turned to you and rubbed her hands together. "so what do we do ? do you remember anything."

you shook your head. "i have no idea."

your friend was scanning the alley with her eyes when she gently grabbed your arm. "what is that ?" you followed her gaze and saw something shiny behind a trash can. mindy approached and grabbed the object. it was a bracelet, a bracelet that you knew very well since it is the gift that you offered to your babysitter in woodsboro. you remember it since you had to save your pocket money plus the money you had on your birthday and christmas to give it to jill.

"it's jill’s." mindy's eyes widened. "what! you're kidding."

"no, I gave it to her for her sixteenth birthday. she was my favorite person in the world at that time and I really wanted to please her."

"oh my god, you know what i just realized ?" you turned to her, waiting impatiently for what she was going to say. "i just realized that you made better gifts when you were little."

she burst out laughing when she saw your reaction, you gave her the middle finger and turned your head so she wouldn't see you laughing.

"no seriously. it proves that she was indeed there. but how did she manage to lose it ?"

you grab her arm. "wait. and if she lost it later. it was visible then why didn't ethan, bailey or even a cop pick it up ?"

she nodded. "ok then, jill finds you, she picks you up and takes you to safety for treatment. then she comes back to the scene of the crime, but why ?"

you remained silent as you brainstormed for an answer. suddenly mindy gasped and squeezed your arm, her eyes widening. "bailey and ethan, they stayed here after we were taken back to sam. maybe she came back to kill ethan and she must have seen them together, maybe they talked about their plans and that she heard them."

you finished her theory. "yes. and that's how she would have known where to go for the last act."

"damn yes. and sam said bailey had the hospitals monitored. maybe he told ethan, that's why she brought you to the hospital on the day of the last act at the theater."

you looked around you. "that means she lives not far from here."

"yeah. but where ? it's looking for a needle in a haystack."

suddenly, mindy's phone started ringing. "chad ? i can not hear you." she lowered her phone a little and turned to you. "listen I'm going to the street, it sizzles." you nodded and she left.

you leaned against a wall and looked up at the scrap metal staircase in front of you, it was the first time you noticed it, how could it be.

you continued to examine the staircase then without really knowing why, guided by your instinct, you looked at a window on the third floor, and you froze. she was there. she was looking at you through the window. jill.

—

you made sure that mindy hadn't returned and you rushed to the apartment. once arrived, the shortness of breath, you knocked on the door. "open the door i know you're there jill. open that fucking door i just wanna talk." as you were about to drum again, the door swung open.

"since when are you so vulgar y/n ?"

you couldn't believe it. jill roberts. the famous killer. your old babysitter. the one you considered your big sister. the one who made your childhood happier was there. she had a few wrinkles around her eyes, and she had dyed her hair blonde, but other than that, she hadn't changed. she smiled at you, not with a sadistic smile no, she had a sincere smile. the only thing you could say was. "you plan to let me in."

she shook her head, laughing softly, then stepped aside to let you in. you scanned the apartment with your eyes, it was the one where she had hidden and rescued you. the sound of a teapot on the fire was heard, when it began to scream she took it out and poured hot water into two cups. you followed her with your eyes. you should be afraid to be alone with her. she was ghostface, she killed her friends and even her mother. but without really knowing why, you felt safe with her. she turned to you with the two cups and motioned for you to sit down.

"chamomile, it helps with the nerves." she says to you passing you a cup.

you were speechless. you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, you were dying to know how she was still alive, but nothing came out, so, as she read your thoughts, she put down her cup that she had just carried to her mouth and then she took a deep breath.

"you want to know how come I'm still alive don't you ?" you nodded and she took a deep breath.

"when sidney shot me, she missed my heart by a few centimeters, yet it stopped for a few minutes. that's why I was declared dead. they took me down to the morgue. when I I woke up nobody was there so i took the opportunity to rummage through the files, i memorized the signature of the person in charge of the morgue, then i took my file and i imitated his signature on the document which confirmed that my body had been cremated. i took the first clothes i found at the hospital, stole a car and drove as far as i could from woodsboro. odd jobs in small villages who didn't know me. when i had enough money i bought false papers, i changed my hair color and identity. now my name is madison cooper .and when all this shit died down, i moved to new york keeping an eye on you of course."

you shook your head to put your thoughts in place. "why did you keep an eye on me ?" she took a sip of her tea before answering you.

"when i did, what i did ten years ago. my original plan was to go away with you way out of woodsboro. being famous i thought I was going to make a lot of money and like that, you and I could have lived together, happily."

"why ?"

she rolled her eyes. "y/n do you really think that i didn't know what was going on at your house ? you think that i wouldn't understand seeing the bruises that your father gave you. and your mother who veiled her face and who preferred to take drugs rather than helping her eight-year-old daughter."

you looked down, the memories flooding back to you.

"why didn't you wave all those years ?"

"It was too risky. but i've been there. who do you think sent you an envelope full of money for your thirteenth birthday. who paid for your hospital bills when you fell from the tree of mindy and chad. who wrote an anonymous letter to denounce what your parents were doing. who also sent a letter to your godmother asking her to take care of you. who put your file first at the university. and who saved you when that asshole stabbed you."

"why did you do all that jill ?"

she frowned, as if the answer was self-evident. "because you were always important to me. i always felt like i had to protect you. and i feel guilty too, because if i hadn't killed all these people, maybe i would have found a job and I could have got you out of this hell."

tears were beginning to well up, you wiped them away with the back of your hand. in a weak voice you asked him. "so it was you who helped my friends at the theater ?"

she nodded. "I followed everything you posted on social media, I also dug into your friends' lives that's when I saw that chad had a roommate named ethan, and he looked familiar so i did some research and i quickly realized that it was richie's brother. so i hacked your phone, by the way y/n, you should never accept photos that a stranger send you."

your jaw dropped. "wait for the penis photo was it you ?"

"yeah, I'm not very proud of it but since you're too smart not to click on the weird instagram links, but clearly not smart enough to open a nude, it was easy to hack your phone. so that night I located your phone and saw that it was right under my apartment, I first saw what you were doing so I didn't come out to give you some… privacy." you turned red with embarrassment which made Jill smile. "but when i heard you were out of air, i stuck my head out the window and saw him stab you. believe me it took a lot of self control not to come down and the stumble. I waited for him to leave and came to get you. when the police left i went downstairs to get medicine and all the necessary medical equipment, that's where i saw ethan with an old man who i saw understood to be his father, i heard them say that 'they were going to watch the hospitals and finish you off if you ever set foot there, then they talked about a theater and the last act."

you took a big sip of your tea and she was right, it calmed your nerves. one last question running through your mind. "how did you know what theater he was talking about ?"

she looked at you with a mischievous smile. "let's say i played with ethan a bit. i called him a few times to freak him out, which worked, and tracked his phone on the day, then pulled out the ghostface costume and i went to have a little fun."

you exhaled a big blow, that was a lot of information. your phone turned on, displaying a text from tara asking if you were okay, then something came to mind. neither kirby nor mindy had tried to contact you. the only thing that could explain it is that they knew exactly where you were, you turned your head towards the front door. jill watched you finish her tea, then she put her cup on the table, she swung some of her hair that had fallen down behind her shoulder and cleared her throat. "they are behind the door."

you looked at her, not sure what to say. "i didn't tell them jill I promise you." she put a reassuring hand on your arm. "i know." then she got up and went to open the door. as you thought mindy and kirby were both behind the door. mindy's eyes were wider than ever, shocked to see jill roberts. kirby held back tears when she saw her former best friend.

"hello kirby, good to see you."

jill pushed herself aside again to let them in. mindy rushed over and hugged you. "damn, you freaked me out. i thought something happened to you. are you okay ?"

you hugged mindy to you. "i'm fine, i assure you."

kirby came forward slowly, jill came back to sit at the table, a silence settled in the apartment. then the fbi agent grabbed her gun and pointed it at jill.

you got up to stop her but mindy held you back. "kirby stop." you asked her crying. "y/n, she killed people, she ruined lives. my life actually."

the roberts girl remained unmoved facing the gun pointed at her, as if she was not afraid of dying almost as if she wanted kirby to pull the trigger.

"do it." she told her.

"no." you cried.

the blonde was trying to hold the gun but she was shaking all over. after a few seconds that seemed like hours, she dropped the gun and began to cry. mindy let you go to make kirby sit down. jill took a deep breath, when you looked at her, tears ran down her cheeks, but it wasn't from fear, more like she was upset to see her friend like that.

"i'm sorry kirby. not for killing this people. but i'm sorry for letting charlie hurt you."

the blonde looked up at jill. "sorry ? but you let him do this anyway. you let him kill olivia, and robby."

"yes. but in your opinion why did I kill him ?"

"because you wanted to be the only fucking survivor."

jill leaned slightly toward kirby. "no. because i wanted to make him pay for killing you. you weren't supposed to get hurt. you were supposed to get away and stay alive."

"and you think I'm going to believe theses bullshit ?"

"believe what you want. you can report me to the police or even kill me. do what you want, you deserve to be happy and we both know that you won't be happy if you know that i am alive."

kirby wiped away her tears, then she turned to you. your face was streaming with tears. the blonde thinks for a few minutes before turning to jill. "i'll let you live because she." she pointed her finger in your direction. "needs you. but i want you to tell her the truth now."

jill broke down. "kirby, I know the truth about what happened-" the fbi agent shook her head looking at you. "i'm not talking about that truth."

you exchanged a look with mindy. then you turned to jill. she met your gaze and more tears began to flow down her face.

she took your hands "well, if I hated my mother so much and if i knew what was going at your house, it's because." she paused and resumed. "your father is also mine."

you decomposed. "what ?!"

"y/n you are my sister."

✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚

[always-andromeda]

-ˋˏ 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˎˊ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭・2,720

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲・There are many difficult memories Joel associates with his birthday. Ones that he's attempted to forget for about twenty years. You attempt to give him a birthday to remember.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞・(credit to @saradika for the adorable dividers, please check her resources out!!) happy birthday, Joel; you deserve everything and more, babygirl. ♡

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・post-outbreak universe, angst, comfort and fluff, pet names (darlin'), mentions of alcohol, lots of feelings lmao, those are all I can think of!

Eyes fluttering open, you drowsily felt the space on the bed beside you. The sheets had long since lost the warmth of the man that normally slept with you. You groaned. Of course Joel had to sign himself up for a patrol on his birthday of all days.

But you truly couldn't blame him. Though it had been a little over a year since he and Ellie had returned to settle in Jackson, he was still working his ass off like a new arrival; like he still had something to prove. As if Tommy hadn't vouched for his usefulness to the community dozens of times. As if Joel himself hadn't shown how he'd seemingly perfected the art of survival.

You'd learned why he was like this a year prior; when Joel had only been around for a few months. Back then he was merely a patrol partner who you'd found yourself catching the eye of from time to time. Back then he chuckled softly at your jokes and offered up little bits and pieces of his own history whenever the conversation called for it.

Then came the day that Tommy said it; the thing that made your heart break for his older brother.

"Damn...September 26th..." he'd sighed and whistled before taking a swig from his beer.

You sat on the stool next to him, swirling your own drink and throwing him a sideways glance. "Yeah, what's so special about today's date?"

Tommy looked down, then he explained, "It's Joel's birthday. How old is that bastard now?" a tight light smile formed on his lips as he seemed to reminisce. "Fifty-seven, I think?"

"Goddamn," you muttered. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've gotten something for him."

Tommy shook his head. An immediate sadness appeared across his features as he said, "Nah, he hasn't really made a big deal out of his birthday since...well...since ever, really. But he especially doesn't like talkin' about it these days."

"Why?"

Swallowing hard, Tommy answered, "A little over twenty years ago today was when the outbreak first started. And it was the day that Sarah passed."

Tommy had talked about Sarah a few times. He remembered his niece very fondly and with Maria's encouragement, made it a point to not let her memory be forgotten. After all, it was the memory of Sarah and anyone else lost to the virus that drove the community to continue on; to keep fighting for those who were still there.

But this time, her memory seemed to haunt him. Right now, Sarah wasn't a heartening symbol. She was a reminder of everything he'd lost – everything that Joel had lost – when the world fell apart. A reminder of just how hard both brothers tried to hold onto the scraps and how hard they fought to forge something new for themselves.

"Oh," you breathed out.

"Yeah," Tommy said. "He figured that it didn't seem right to him. To celebrate his life on the day that she lost hers. So..." he trailed off, searching for his words.

You stopped him with a pursed smile and a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. I get it."

And you truly did. It made sense that Joel wanted to keep himself busy. Plenty of folks did that; couldn't dwell on the past as long as you kept moving. The simple answer, however, was that Joel didn't trust any of it.

Sure, Jackson was beautiful; truly a marvel of human spirit and ingenuity. But you always caught how unsettled Joel seemed, head kept low, eyes up at all times, checking to see if and when he needed to scoop Ellie up and jump ship. Decades of fighting for survival had turned him into a warrior. It had also turned him into a recluse; a closed-off, touch-starved old dog that bared its teeth when approached but still whined in relief when you scratched behind its ear. Every little bit of love you gave seemed to hurt as much as it helped.

Which is why you were determined to do something on this day. Something that would hopefully numb that pain a little more and get him more used to feeling the tenderness of real intimacy with someone.

It wasn’t easy. Once you had confirmed that Joel had indeed gone out, you got dressed and ran through your mental list of all the different vendors on main street that you needed to visit.

Though Jackson offered a range of luxuries, almost all of them came at a pretty decent price. A few hours in and you’d traded practically half of your things away to gather up the supplies to put together a present and a modest party. When Tommy caught you trading in one of your winter coats for a brand new pair of boots Joel's size and you told him of your plan, he almost looked nervous.

You second guessed yourself for a minute. Tommy had known Joel for much, much longer than you had. Maybe he knew better than you. But something inside assured you that this time around...you definitely knew better.

Quickly quelling the nerves dancing under your skin, you joked, "Don't worry, I'm not doing anything too fancy. I've got these boots, some new strings for that guitar of his, and after this, I'm gonna head down to the cafeteria and pick up some of those special dark roast coffee beans he likes. Just some little practical things. Don't wanna give the birthday boy a heart attack."

Tommy laughed, "He ain't had a birthday in over two decades, girlie; puttin' those alone in front of him might send him into cardiac arrest," he nodded towards the boots on the counter before you.

They were very nice. The kind of thing Joel always hesitated to get himself. During his year in town, you were pretty sure you'd only seen him replace his shoes once. And when he did, they were a well worn pair that had been tucked away deep in the town's clothing storages. Almost every day you got to see the ugly pair of boots stationed by your front door, rubber soles caked in dried mud and already starting to pull away from the rest of the shoe. 

You scoffed, "Then so be it, because he needs these. He needs this."

Perhaps it was a little selfish of you. But you wanted to spoil him. More than anything you wanted him to feel just how much you loved him. Neither you or him had said it, always too afraid to speak those feelings aloud. The world had become too dangerous for such open affection. But you could show it. You could show how much you loved him.

"Okay, if you say so," Tommy replied hopefully. "Good luck on your little mission."

You appreciated his encouragement and smiled to yourself as you stowed the boots away in your wagon with the rest of your birthday stash. Perhaps you could make this birthday one that Joel actually wanted to remember.

The sun went down slowly, showering your kitchen in golden warmth. As much as you normally loved seeing the sunset, this time it made you nervous as it gradually faded into the darkness of night.

With your eye flickering between the clock and the front door, you were getting nervous all over again. You'd anticipated Joel spending the day out, but you hadn't expected him to be gone for this long. How many jobs had he signed himself up for that day?

The longer you lingered on the question, the more you doubted yourself. What if this was too much? What if it offended him? After all, in all the time you'd known him, he'd been a stubborn man, stuck in his ways. And this had been his way for so long. Who were you to interrupt that?

The urge to scrap the whole idea and pretend you'd never made the effort in the first place was strong. It would be embarrassing to explain that you had nothing to show for your day if and when Joel came home and asked about it. But surely it would be less embarrassing than facing rejection from him. 

Before you could do anything impulsive, the door swung open, causing you to jump from your spot on the couch.

"Sorry I'm so late," Joel explained. "One of the horses kicked a fence in at the stable and Tony wanted to get it fixed before tomorrow so I stayed back to help."

Judging by his rumpled curls, tired eyes, and the stench of sweat and wood shavings that clung to him, you could tell he'd physically worn himself out that day. And you cringed internally knowing you were most likely about to wear him down emotionally as well.

"That's okay," you replied, trying to put on a chipper tone. "I'm sure Tony really appreciated your help."

"Damn right he did," Joel smirked before pulling his arm out from behind his back. In his hand was a bottle that you quickly recognized.

"Holy shit, where'd he get this?" you marveled, taking the bottle of wine from him and turning it in your hand as if it was a mirage. It was a Cabernet Sauvignon with a fancy cream colored label and gold text. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen something this fancy that was actually intact.

"That fucker's got a whole load of alcohol from before the outbreak. Said he'd give me this one if I promised not to tell Maria about his stash," Joel chuckled.

"Yeah, no kidding," you said before pausing and looking back up at him. "Wait, Tony gets the stable guys to help him out all the time. Is he giving them all secret complimentary bottles of alcohol?"

"Actually," Joel began hesitantly, turning away to take off his boots and shed his jacket. "He said this was a special favor. Told me to go home and have a drink with my lady."

Coming from Tony, the sentiment would've made you roll your eyes. But coming out of Joel's mouth with that smooth-like-molasses Texan accent, it had you melting. At the end of the day, there was always something so warming being known as his.

As much as you knew about Joel's past through his own admissions, it was moments like these that let you know he'd changed so much since those days. Now, he was a good man. A good man who the community could depend upon. And more importantly, man who you could trust with everything...maybe even sappy displays of affection.

With reinvigorated confidence, you took his hand in yours and led him into the kitchen. Before he could ask what you were up to, you said, "Well, if Tony is so insistent on us having a good night, let me make it a little better."

Joel still seemed a little confused, his deep brown puppy dog eyes framed by furrowed brows as he watched you open the fridge and reached in to grab something. 

In your hands was a simple cake set neatly in the middle of a glass platter. Under the layer of buttercream frosting were two layers of cake along with strawberry jam between them. The jam had been another trade you felt privileged to acquire. One of the women in town, Bonnie, made jams for every season. The strawberry jam you'd acquired was her last jar from the summer harvest. And you hoped and prayed with everything in you that you hadn't messed up the cake and frosting recipe you'd borrowed from her.

Setting those worries aside, you put on a small smile before setting the dish down on the kitchen counter before him. Joel stared down at it, a volatile expression on his face.

"I couldn't find any of those fancy little number candles, so we'll have to stick with the regular ones I have in my junk drawer. Though it would be funny if I just stuck fifty-eight candles on there," you rambled. "Not that fifty-eight candles would fit on there anyways. Or that you could even blow out fifty eight candles all at once–"

Joel cut through your halfhearted attempt to diffuse the tension and muttered, "How did you know?"

"Tommy told me–"

"Of course he did," Joel cut you off with a hint of exasperation.

"Wait, before you start planning on drilling him a new one, just hear me out. Because he told me about how hard this day is for you. And don't worry, I completely understand it. But...I–" you chose your words cautiously, "–care about you...a lot. And I wanted to celebrate you. I know you think that you don't deserve it. But I believe you do."

"Darlin'...this is..." Joel trailed off with a sigh.

You took a deep breath. It's now or never.

Finally, you said the magic words you'd held inside for far too long, "I love you, Joel."

He blinked hard a few times, processing this new information before it started to click. For the first time ever, you thought, you were seeing Joel Miller get nervous. You'd seen shades of uncertainty wash across his worn face, but never had you seen such boy-ish anxiety like this. With soft, glossy eyes and slightly quivering lip, he looked so different. He looked like a man unburdened by the world and his past; only weighed down by the crippling realization of just how much he was valued. You decided it was the most raw and beautiful side of him you'd seen so far.

You repeated firmly, "I love you so much. And I want to show you that love. Even if you've got nothing else in the world...you can have that. You get to have all of my love."

That made his head hang and his shoulders sag. You couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not. So you walked around the island and approached him gently.

"Are you okay, Joel?"

He lifted his head just enough for you to see that there were a few stray tears falling down his cheek. He wiped them away and sniffled before bringing himself to meet your gaze. With a wobbly smile playing on his lips, he whispered hoarsely, "I'm fine, darlin'. I'm just...I'm glad to have ya."

You wrapped your arms around him. And as he returned the gesture, he let himself bury his head in your neck. His tall, broad frame curled around you. The marble statue he seemed to be normally had crumbled away. Here he was all softness, all warmth, all yours.

With his lips beside your ear, you heard him murmur softly, "I love you too, darlin'."

Your chest swelled with joy so intensely that for a second you were sure that you were the one who would be having a heart attack. But even as tears threatened to spill from your own eyes, you forced yourself to take deep, even breaths to calm yourself down.

As the emotional fog of the moment cleared from your mind, you remembered the rest of your plan. With a start you pulled back from him and said excitedly, "I have some presents for you too!"

"Multiple presents," Joel laughed to himself. "Goddamn, woman, you've really thought of it all, haven't you?"

"Yep," you replied proudly. "I have."

"Well, run along and get 'em. I'll crack open this bottle and get out the glasses. Then I'll take a look at your presents."

"Deal!" you said before pressing a deep kiss on Joel's lips that was sure to make his head spin.

He watched you hurry upstairs with another quiet laugh. Turning to take another look at your handiwork, he thought back to the time before all this. A time when something like your modest cake would've been normal. But these days...to put time and effort into such displays was a rarity, a privilege. To him, however, it was doubly so, considering the fact that it was coming from you.

The warm glow filling his bones was unfamiliar. But this time he wasn't afraid of it. For once, he wanted to embrace it. It wasn't often that a guy like him got the love of a creature so special. And he intended to cherish it for as long as he possibly could.