#I hope this doesn’t come across as condescending | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

linoveins · 7 months ago

Text

kitty keychains and pudding paybacks

best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip

this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts

genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au

warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings

w.c.: 11.9k

a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.

you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.

the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.

minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.

“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.

“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning.

“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”

“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.

he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi.

you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.

after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his.

by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks.

as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice.

you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin.

like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.

gotcha, idiot.

you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.

he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time.

“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.

“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.

his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.

he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.

the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.

you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.

“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!”

minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.

you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.

he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.

you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am.

you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.

he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.

and yet again, there he was.

you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon.

you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that.

the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.

grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.

he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..

“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”

minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory.

you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.

of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.

he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.

“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.

90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs.

you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart.

you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there.

both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.

some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you.

seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”.

he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway.

you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.

apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something.

he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.

when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.

and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.

minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night.

he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.

he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.

“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.

“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you.

“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”

minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.

after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy.

jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning.

changbin followed him that night to ask about you.

“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.

“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”

“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.

changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.

“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”

he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not?

minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.

“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.

he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?

he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded.

minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.

he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you.

he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you.

but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well.

get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.

“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you.

the pudding.

normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.

his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.

somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.

the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.

“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor.

“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.

“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”

“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.

“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him.

“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.

you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?

the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it.

the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.

the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.

the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.

the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging.

the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.

he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.

“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.”

you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.

“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand.

you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.

once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all.

you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings.

the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.

“nothing?” you ask and he nods.

“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”

minho raises his eyebrow at you.

“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.

“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.

minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.

“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods.

you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.

“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.

“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”

“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries.

it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come.

there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.

you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture.

you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.

stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice.

you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him.

from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it.

he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.

he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries.

“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.

the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet.

you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.

he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.

he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.

he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer.

you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.

“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed.

your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.

a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention.

he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.

“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.

he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.

you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.

the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.

you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.

“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.

“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”

minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear.

to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down.

minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday.

he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.

you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.

“marry me.”

the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up.

he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.

he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.

“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.

when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.

what the fuck?

you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.

the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either.

marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.

but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.

he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth.

by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief.

minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets.

you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his.

he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.

“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.

when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.

“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.

you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.

“w-what?”

“your keychains.”

“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”

he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.

“can i see?”

you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again.

“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.

“r-really?”

minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous?

“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”

“you don’t have to bother, really.”

“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.

“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”

“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”

when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.

“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.

“yeah. i- yeah.”

you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.

“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude.

“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”

the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves.

it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so.

he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that.

he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it.

you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push.

you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.

“do you wanna get sma-”

“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.

minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.

“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.

“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-”

“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.

minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.

“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.

“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.

“i… i think i love her.”

“you think?”

seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions.

minho groans.

“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.

“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”

it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.

“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"

“didn’t i just tell you?”

“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?”

“i just told you i left.”

“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.

minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did.

he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later?

your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different.

so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.

he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring.

“i got it”, seungmin says.

instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time.

minho’s heart skips a beat.

you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you.

“i- i’m sorry-”

“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you.

seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave.

minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.

seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him.

he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.

“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.

you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.

“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”

your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.

“you-”

“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.

minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.

“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.

“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?”

he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.

“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.

“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”

minho grins while shaking his head.

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one.

goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”

minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.

“there. it fits perfectly.”

he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.

“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.

“shh. it’s okay.”

he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”

he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.

“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly.

the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.

“you don’t have to ask.”

“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.

“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck.

your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.

you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.

“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing.

“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”

he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.

minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder.

to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you.

he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.

apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.

you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.

“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”

minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes.

“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.

“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher.

“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”

you nod at him. minho smiles.

“but i… i’m not sure-”

“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”

“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”

minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.

“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.

“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”

he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.

“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”

“i didn’t tell you it was with a… woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.

minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.

“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.

“want you now.”

minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips.

your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar.

he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.

your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom.

he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.

“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is.

he removes his shirt and lays on top of you.

he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.

he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth.

when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head.

“shit.”

his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was.

“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.

“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”

he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content.

at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.

minho lets go of your nipple and grins.

“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you

“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?

you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.

“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble.

“yes”, you whined. “minho-”

he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.

he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.

“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear.

your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.

“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”

you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs.

“min-”

“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”

minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.

“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”

minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.

your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt.

“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”

you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix.

he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.

“mm. there we go.”

minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would.

he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open.

one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.

you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient.

minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.

“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.

“min- please. i’ll-”

“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.

he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.

you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable.

he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive.

“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.

he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.

“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?

“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”

“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form.

he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.

“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.

“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask.

you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway.

he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty.

“pull it out then.”

with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes.

he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.

“it’s..”

“hm?”

“it’s really pretty like you.”

minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute.

you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.

“baby”, he speaks in warning.

“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.

“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”

“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”

oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.

“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.

you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.

“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”

you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.

“yeah? you wanna play?”

you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.

“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”

he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down.

“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders.

you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.

“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear.

he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.

you just whimper and he laughs.

“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”

minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.

“shit, min-”

“you ready, baby?”

“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.

“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”

you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.

“fuck.”

you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.

“hurts, min.”

minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again.

he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly.

you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.

“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”

his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard?

“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”

you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.

“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.

minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.

“so good, baby. you have no idea.”

“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”

“shit, feels perfect in here.”

“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”

“just a few more. still hurts?”

“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”

he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.

“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.

“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”

“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here.

after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force.

“shit, minho.”

“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”

minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.

“p-please go faster.”

“you sure?”

“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”

minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.

“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.

“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.

“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.

he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.

you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.

“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.

“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.

“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”

he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.

“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”

he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.

“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”

minho is so fucking mean.

you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.

“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows.

“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”

he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck.

minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.

“you close, baby?” he huffs.

“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”

“hold it.”

you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.

“min, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“no-”

“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”

minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“cum.”

you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you.

it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.

you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.

he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs.

you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had.

minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.

“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.

minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake.

“sleep well?”

you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.

minho notices and laughs at you.

“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.

“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.

it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why.

it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.

“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.

“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.

“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”

you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.

“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say.

his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.

“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed.

“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”

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a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!

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tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins

#lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #minho smut #skz smut #skz imagines

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coolreference · 1 year ago

Note

Making friends and connections diy guide

1) bother people! reach out to people even if you think you aren’t friends you can become friends

2) go to things! The library has lots of free classes where you can meet people.

3) if you bother enough people at enough places and things you will have friends and or connections.

aside from two workplaces with high turnover where they were always urgently hiring, everywhere i've worked i was recommended to the person hiring by someone we both knew. dunno if that's everyone's experience but i get the feeling that connections are more involved than people usually say they are.

a lot of people have pointed this out in the notes, and it tracks with my current experience - with one exception, every job i've ever had has been because i knew someone or talked to someone on the inside. i'm not sure how to go about making new connections from nothing, though :(

#advice #i hope this doesn’t come across as condescending #this is genuine #ya gotta extravert a little

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chaotic-mystery · 4 months ago

Text

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

#studioghibelliswritingchallenge #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller au #professor Joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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chervbs · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii can I get a spencer x reader smut where spencer just goes feral for reader when he sees her in a skimpy two piece swimsuit

this was supposed to be just a little drabble to get me used to writing for criminal minds, but here we are at 1k+ words so enjoy 🫶🏻

warnings: SMUT (18+), MDNI, sub!spencer, fem!reader, reader wears a bikini but there’s no body descriptors, heavy petting, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, spencer doesn’t understand the concept of a quickie

You didn’t know what had gotten into Spencer, and to be completely honest, Spencer didn’t either.

The relationship between you two was still fairly new, but you’ve had the opportunity to explore each other before. Maybe that’s what drove Spencer insane so quickly–knowing exactly what was under the triangles of fabric barely covering your most precious parts.

A pool day at Rossi’s seemed like the perfect solution to the sweltering Virginia heat, but even the water was doing little to cool Spencer down.

He’s just glad the depth of the pool was hiding his lower half, because the second you stepped onto the patio, every inch of bare skin glowing in the sun, his poor swim trunks were no match for the size his cock grew to in record time.

Spencer feel like he blacked out, trying to play it cool enough to make it out of the pool without anyone noticing his issue one second, and the next you were both in one of Rossi’s guest bathrooms, his large hands pawing and at your body like an animal.

“Spencer!” You gasp, trying to keep him at bay, which is difficult when his tongue is down your throat and you can feel his erection against you.

The man whines into your mouth, letting his hands slip under your top. His palms against your hardened nipples almost made you forget what you were going to say, a choked moan escaping your lips.

You’re finally able to get your hands on his cheeks, forcing his face away from yours. “Baby,” You pant, paired with a breathless giggle. “What’s gotten into you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, to busy pressing kisses against your neck, his hands still fondling your chest like it was his first time all over again. “I’m sorry,” He whines. You feel him rut against your leg, and you can feel the arousal pool into your bottoms. “I can’t help it. You just look so beautiful.”

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Aw, is that right? You got so hard just looking at me in a bikini, you had to take me right now?” The condescending tone you adapt goes straight to Spencer’s cock. You two hadn’t yet explore different roles in the bedroom, but he had a feeling these would stick. He moans into your neck, his hands switching from fondling to twisting your nipped between his fingers.

“Yeah, yes,” He nods enthusiastically, only growing harder at the signs of pleasure you display.

You press your lips against his, this time more in control now that you’re not caught off guard. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want. But we have to be quick okay? Before anyone comes looking for us.” Your voice is low and sultry as you speak, your own hands sliding down to mess with the band of his shorts.

Your friends are all profilers, they probably already know exactly what you’re doing. You just hope they don’t tease Spencer too much after this.

“Okay, yes ma’am,” Spencer pants, wasting no time as he dives into your chest. His lips wrap around your nipples, sending your head falling back in pleasure.

You use this time to shove your hand into his trunks, pulling out his throbbing length, pumping your hand lazily. If you hadn’t stripped him of his innocence yourself, you’d have thought he was still a virgin with how he thrusted into your fist.

“C’mon, baby,” You feel yourself growing impatient and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dropping down your legs. “We gotta speed this up.”

As if reading your mind, Spencer pulls at the strings keeping your bottoms on, letting them fall to the floor where your top had landed. He doesn’t bother stripping his own, helping you up onto the sink and spreading your legs.

He whimpers at the sight of your pussy, glistening with arousal that seems to be inviting him in. He can’t help but ask. “Can I taste you? Please? Just really quick?”

You can’t exactly deny him the privilege when you know from experience how good he is with his mouth. So you agree, “Quickly.”

His mouth is on you in less than a second, slurping up your juices like a man starved. You clamp a hand over your mouth when his tongue finds your clit, flicking back and forth before it’s being sucked between his lips. You can’t help your hips rutting up, chasing the feeling of his mouth even when he hasn’t detached from you yet.

You have a second of clarify where you realize you’ve been gone longer than five minutes already, and you know you don’t have long before Morgan or Emily start banging on the door.

Reluctantly, your fingers lace themselves into the mop of brown curls on Spencer’s head, using the strands to yank him away from your heat. He’s breathless, pouting like you’ve taken away his lollipop.

“I’m sorry, my love. But you need to be inside me, now.” You demand. Spencer can’t be too upset so he nods, hurrying to line his cock up at your entrance.

He pushes himself in slowly, a whimper falling from his lips at the delicious feeling of you surrounding him. “Oh–my god.” Your arms rest on his shoulders, fingers finding his locks once again. Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head, releasing a moan as he sinks into you.

Suddenly it’s like he’s feral, hips thrusting into you so quickly you almost fall off the counter. Hushed moans are shared between you, your lips meeting to hopefully muffle the sounds of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Spencer mumbles, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries not to come so fast. It’s difficult when it feels like his head is clouded with ecstasy, the ridges of your walls massaging his shaft just right.

You pull his head back by his hair, relishing in the little moans escaping him with every thrust. “Is it that good, baby? Is my pussy that good that your big brain doesn’t work anymore?”

His eyes screw shut, mouth falling open as his thrusts become so hard, his balls begin to slap against your ass. Your words effectively turn his brain to mush, the only thing left on his mind is being able to come.

“P-please, please–let me come. Can I? I need to, I need to–” He whimpers, his pubic bone snapping against you so violently you think you may have bruises tomorrow.

The tip of his cock hits the spongy spot inside of you, your mouth falling open. It’s hard to formulate words when it feels like Spencer’s cock is splitting you in half. You reach blindly for his hand, directing it down to your clit. “Yeah, baby, you’re gonna come with me, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t bother to nod, first using his thumb then his middle three fingers to swipe across your clit with eagerness. The action combined with him hitting the spot sends you hurdling towards the edge, you hips spasming as stars flood your vision.

Your walls clamping down on him send Spencer off right behind you, the rhythm of his hips becoming erratic as he spills his load inside you. You’ve both forgotten to muffle your noises at this point, whines and whimpers spilling from you both as you come down from your highs.

He ruts into you a few more times before the stimulation becomes too much, and he gasps as he forces himself from the warmth of your walls. You moan at the loss of him filling you, still trying to catch your breath.

Spencer and you are silent for a minute, minds finally wrapping around what just happened. He’s still breathing a little heavy when he takes a piece of toilet paper and cleans up the mess between your legs.

“This was…eye opening.” He chuckles, making you giggle as well.

“I’ll say.” You pull him in for another kiss, this one much softer than what you’d shared just moments ago.

Spencer sighs, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “We’re never gonna hear the end of this, are we?”

“No,” You scoff, “Not by a long shot.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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mythicmanuscripts · 4 months ago

Note

Omg sub!Aegon having a mommy kink is so real! I imagine that as soon as he got confirmation that he could call reader mommy he would he absolutely obsessed. Like at that point he would just stop caring about alicent’s opinion because he don’t need her validation anymore. Anyways could you write more about sub!aegon with a mommy kink? I don’t have any ideas rn but really I’ll be fine with whatever your brilliant head comes up with <3

You’re so right about this anon, so right.

So I didn’t intend for this to happen but I accidentally veered into himbo!aegon as well in this so I hope that’s alright 😂 anyway, sub!aegon with mentions of sexual activity below the cut

I love how this anon mentioned that Aegon would become utterly obsessed when he realises his darling wife can guide him and love him and looking after him without making him feel stupid. Because yeah that’s exactly right.

It takes no time at all for him to be worshiping the ground you walk on. The constant, gentle affection and guidance you give him means that he’s always utterly captivated by you. He didn’t know it was possible to feel both well cared for AND horny at the same time and now that he’s experienced that, it’s basically his constant state.

I also think a large part of him starting to see you as mommy before he actually uses the title for you is the way you treat him in public? He’s never had someone look so…. proud to be with him? You smile at him and you listen to him and you hold his hand and you never, ever make him feel insecure in public ever.

That was one of alicent’s favourite tricks. She’d brings them up in council meetings and before council members and she’d sound so condescending, speaking like she has to get the message across because she doesn’t trust Aegon to do it. In fact nine times out of ten she doesn’t even tell Aegon that’s going on, so he’s completely in the dark when she suddenly springs something on him in meetings and speaks like they’ve already discussed it.

The fact that he knows for a fact you would never, ever do that to him matters so so much. That’s not to say you’ll never correct him, because of course you will, but rather you don’t do that in front of others. If he’s ever completely off and you need to voice that right then, you just share your opinion and let Aegon announce his change of mind if he agrees with you (spoiler: he always does).

Knowing that you’d never make him seem stupid or useless in front of people means he knows he can look to you for advice in public settings without fear of being belittled. You just…. You make him feel so safe.

So that coupled with how you fuck his brains out most nights? Yeah he’s done for. No more thoughts. Head empty. Of course he’s going to want to call you mommy!!!

And when he asks and you say yes? Well you have to cancel all engagements for the test of the day because your husband has become a horny puddle on the floor and now you just take care of him.

So of course he loves calling you mommy!! He only ever does it in private of course, but you get the distinct impression that Alicent knows way aegon calls you, or at the very least that Alicent knows you take the dominant role in your relationship with him.

Once she realises this, she tries to poison him against you so that she can keep him under her thumb and needlessly to say, it’s entirely pointless. Honestly he doesn’t even notice the smear campaign Alicent is leading against you.

How could he have time to notice that? He’s too busy staring at his pretty wife!!

#sub!aegon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the second #king aegon #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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barefeet-only · 10 days ago

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@shitpostingsapphic you are so right, this show has NEVER said that these cycles don’t matter because inherently they do.

We would have never gotten Jinx and Vi as we know them if the revolt led by Vander and Silco didn’t happen. The entire first season exists because of that failed revolution.

But they don’t succeed and Jinx and Vi were orphaned as a result. It’s the same as when the first Indian Independence Movement took place or the Haitian Revolution happened. Just because they failed doesn’t mean they didn’t matter.

You can see it in why Shimmer was invented. You can see it in how the enforcers treat the civilians and how the Undercity reacts. You can see it in the way Vander’s friends turn on him because they can’t stand being oppressed anymore and turn to Silco for a chance to improve their situation.

And to go back to what op is saying, the show doesn’t not frame Jinx’s attack on the Council as a good thing. Nor do they frame the strike team’s response as good either.

They are just events that happen. Because neither side are blameless in this conflict. Does one side have moral superiority due to being oppressed? Yes, of course. But the show isn’t trying to say that they should just roll over and stay oppressed. Nor do they say violence is the solution. These situations are complex, there is no one right way to go about progress.

It isn’t on one side to solve the issues created by systemic oppression. They need to work together. Which is exactly what you see at the end of the show with Sevika and Scar. But it’s not perfect because you can see that the people on the Council are still prejudiced against them.

Change doesn’t happen cleanly, there is no perfect way to end these cycles of hate. And most of the time they don’t change, we just pick up a new cycle and start again.

I’m sorry op and the people who agree weren’t able to get the happy ending with a perfect solution that they clearly want. It’s sucks that there is no perfect solution that ends the cycle of pain and addresses all the issues meaningfully. But frankly that doesn’t happen in real life, and an idealized solution wouldn’t be satisfying to the complex and human story presented by arcane.

I still believe that arcane does have a hopeful ending, I just believe the change we want to see in that world isn’t going to be easy to achieve. Which is exactly how it is in the real world. If the solution to ending all inequality was easy then it wouldn’t exist in the first place, but that doesn’t mean we should give up. And that is exactly what arcane is saying in the end.

i for real need people to understand how upsetting it is that arcane said, "the revolution never mattered."

arcane said, "trying to actively bring about systemic change is both wrong and futile."

arcane said, "the only moral way to become unoppressed is to simply do mutual aid, and wait for your oppressors to decide to give you rights after a suitably high-profile child death and/or foreign invasion."

arcane said, "to resist or raise arms against your oppressor makes you as bad as them. it is the duty of the victims of violence and oppression to break the cycle of killing."

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane discussion #arcane analysis #arcane character analysis #I hope this doesn’t come across condescending #I just really love literary analysis and want people to understand complex stories

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red5tars · 2 months ago

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minors + ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked.

“could i... perhaps.... indulge you on bear hybrid price... and breeding kink. but not like, just stuffing you full, i'm talking round of his seed just overflowing... 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️” - ask from anon

oh boy..

bunny!reader who stumbles across a beautiful patch in the forest. it’s a nice set up, lush greenery, some flowers to nibble and admire, and a stream that provides plenty of water.

and most importantly, the land is empty. no predators, or prey. just your cute little cottontail and no one else.

it quickly becomes your home, spending your days laying down in the shrubbery, skipping by the stream, and eating your fill in plants. a perfect routine you plan on sticking to until you die.

at least, that’s what you thought it would be like, until you found out why this patch was so empty.

it happens on a rainy day, and while the feeling of water running down your fur and skin is enjoyable, the downpour is harsh today. in need of shelter, you quickly seek out the nearest cave, finding one hidden in plain sight. it’s covered by vines and moss, blending into the greenery. thankfully, you’re able to pick out such things, it’s how you found this place after all.

stepping inside, you realize how dark and cold it is, a shiver making your ears stand up. at the very least, you wouldn’t have to be here for more than a few hours. what’s the worse that could happen?

it seems the answer chuffs behind you, a growl making your body stiffen.

as you turn your head over your shoulder, your met with the grizzly sight of a large bear hybrid. your ears drop, fear running through you as the beast stares you down.

“anyone ever told you about trespassing, bun?” he asks, his deep voice rattling your bones.

somehow, you manage to shake your head, stammering, “i-i didn’t know this was.. i thought.. i-“

“thought wha’, hm?” he asks, his tone bordering on condescending, “thought this little patch was yours for the taking,” there’s a hint of smile in his tone, and you see it as he emerges from the shadows.

with every step he takes forward, you take one back, hoping to reach the entrance of the cave.

“n-no,” it comes out naturally, a defensive response. the bear just chuckles, shaking his head.

“oh bunny.. poor stupid bunny,” the dim light from outside glints against his fangs, canines that are waiting to be sunk into your flesh.

“everything in this little section of the forest is mine, from the trees,“ he gestured above your head, but you don’t dare turn around. it would be unwise to give him an opening.

“the grass, and even the little stream like you to hop in,” a chill runs down your spine. it never occurred to you he was watching, eying his next meal.

with one more step, you find yourself close to the entrance. but it seems he redirected your path, feeling the hard wall of the cave hit you instead of the rain’s humidity.

his whole body cages you, keeping trapped.

“and now.. you do too.”

——

you knew he was going to devour you, just not like this.

the bear, price, has you pinned down with an arm on your lower back, stomach glued to the cold floor as his tongue glides up and down your slick cunt.

even with his weight on you, your instincts scream at you to move. to run away and never look back.

“quit yer squirming, bun,” price commands, growls. the low timbre of his voice adds vibrations to your pussy, causing you to do the opposite of what he said. a quiet squeal leaves your lips, ears stretched far back behind you in embarrassment.

even though you defied a direct order, he doesn’t punish you. instead, he goes back to eating it, eating you, your sopping wet cunt.

you can’t even recall how you got into this position, all you remember is the bear claiming you as his, telling you his name, and then wrestling you down into the floor.

..so maybe you can recall how you got here.

after another agony of his long licks, price pulls away from your cunt. it’s completely drenched in his spit, and you bet it smells more like his mouth than you.

“think you’re ready now,” he grunts, and despite the haze his tongue has placed you in, alarm bells ring in your head again. swiftly, you manage to turn, eyes wide, “r-ready for wha-“

your question is cut off as something big is shoved inside of you, your meek voice shifting into something closer to a scream.

just like everything about him, it’s big. it feels like he’s burrowing himself inside you, which is ironic considering his species. it’s just all too much far too quickly.

“p-price pull out pl-please,” you beg, and not even the earlier pleasure can outdo the pain. but he doesn’t pull out. in fact, it seems your pleading spurs him on, trying to shove even more (was there more?!) of himself inside of you.

“can’t do that bun,” he huffs, squishing your cottontail as he practically rests his full weight on you, “gotta claim you.”

and with that, he moves.

it’s brutal, the way he slams home into your tight pussy. it’s almost like being stabbed, except the blade is thicker and more meaty and not a blade at all but probably the fattest cock you’ve ever felt-

it seems price can pick up on your pain, tasting it on his tongue (amongst other things). with one hand, he manages to cant your hips, snaking a paw in between them.

“being too mean, aren’t i?” he says almost effortlessly, not a hint of strain in his voice despite the robust movement of his hips, “soft thing like you isn’t used to this type of breeding..”

as a sign of mercy, his fingers play with your clit, pinching and rubbing the bud.

and oh, does that help.

instead of focusing on the harsh piston of his hips, he offers pleasure, toying with your little button, rolling it between his fingers, putting enough pressure to have you squeaking.

it pulls sounds out of you that you never knew you could make and sentences that consist of pleasepleaseplease and moremoremore.

it seems price revels in your enjoyment too, grunting harder as your insides clench on his length with a vice-like grip.

“yeah? you like that, bun? you always turn into a slut when someone flicks that little button of yours? hm?”

despite his patronizing tone, you’re unable to deny his claims. instead, you meet his questions with moans, turning into what he describes as a cock-focused cottontail slut.

before long, the warmth in your stomach erupts like a dormant volcano, making you clench his cock in a vice-like grip. your orgasm shakes you, body rigid as you come undone under this predator.

it seems he wasn’t far along either, as price buries his face into the back of your neck, pressing himself to the hilt as a massive load of his cum spills inside you.

it’s hot and thick, making sure not to just coat your insides but also fill it. you half expect him to pull out, but price just stays sheathed inside you.

it isn’t until you feel your womb is going to burst that you finally speak up, “um.. i.. i think you should.. p-pull out..” you whimper, having to actively search for words instead of fall deeper into this haze of lust.

but it’s rare for predators to spare mercy, even rarer for them to do it twice.

“no can do bun, see” and he completely drops his weight onto you, a quiet oof exhaling from you at this, “i was pretty lonely before you showed up, and it’s been near ages since i had a mate..”

as he explains himself, you can feel his cock coming back to life, practically keep all his cum plugged deep inside of you.

“and when you wandered into my territory, i knew i had to have you,” his hips move shallowly, barely separating from you. “had to make you mine,” at this, a moan leaves your lips while a deep chuckle escapes his.

“attagirl. now,” he curls an arm under your waist, palming at your soft belly, “jus’ lie there while i make you fat with my cubs, okay bunny?”

#capt price #john price x reader #hybrid!price #bearhybrid!price #hybrid!reader #bunny!reader #cw breeding #cw dubcon #idk if it counts as that but just to be safe #5tars writings

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scribesoflex · 1 year ago

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i litr cannot stop imagining reader and bestfriend!stiles getting so incredibly high and they’re just so horny and suddenly it’s like they can’t keep their hands (and mouths) off of each other but they’re just friends helping a friends out right :)) and it’s just cute and fluffy smut

. • °🍃✧༺ 17+ smut below cut!

it happens too quickly — shared laughter somehow morphing into quiet gasps and hurried touches.

you can feel him wrap around your whole body, when in reality his rough hands are only gripping your hips over the fabric of your skirt, fingers pressing to the dimples at the base of your spine, slipping under the fabric of your sweater.

you blink at him, oblivious to the mascara smugged beneath your lashline, and the glitter that has fallen from the paper mache butterflys above your worn out couch, dusting across your face in such a perfect way that stiles swears you can’t be real.

this is very real though – and you become all too aware of that when you feel the stiff length of his cock grow against your core. It makes you stop, nervous fingers hovering above broad shoulders, hot breath stuttering across chapped lips.

Big, sparkling brown eyes, fluffy brown hair — you can’t keep looking at him in this light, it’s creating a pounding at the back of your skull, wincing as you create space between your bodies.

“are you okay?” stiles questions, warily scanning your features, calloused hands massaging the meat of your hips, squeezing in gentle reassurance. you nod silently, but can tell he doesn’t buy it.

pressing your mouth into a thin line, you fiddle with the buttons of his plaid shirt “it’s just- we’re best friends” you blink, drying eyes forcing you to squint at his expression.

his hands glide down your hips, passing over the front of your skirt, past the hem to your knees, fingers slipping past the fabric – creeping it up your thighs, watching you through his lashes, red eyes turned glassy.

“friends, help other friends out” he smiles, thumbs ghosting against the hem of your panties.

that’s all your intoxicated mind needs to lean into his embrace and join your lips once again, moaning into his mouth, licking over his tongue, giggling at the faint taste of fruit loops and strawberry milk, shifting your hips to mesh against his, grinding your heat against his crotch. stiles pistons his hips upwards, pressing his cock right against your clit through the lace of your damp panties, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, grinding against him with more force, lips parting in a desperate pant.

“that feel good?” stiles husks, gently cooing at your slurred response, sweet expression a contrast to the pleasure building between your thighs.

you fist the fabric of his shirt, mewling when his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging on the strands gently, forcing you to look at him “you gonna cum? right here, like this?” his words carry a condescending tone, one that makes your pussy ache with need, despite the endless stream of pleasure that comes from humping over his buldge.

“yes – yes, want to cum” you nod, rutting against him more quickly, making the couch below you creak- puffs of hot air slipping past your lips with every roll of your hips.

it’s a tight knot in your stomach, coiling more and more with each passing second, until finally you reach the end of the rope – flashes of heat surging up your thighs, pasing over your shoulder blades, forcing your eyes to squeeze shut as you whine out his name.

“hope you’re not tired baby, now it’s your turn to help me”

. • °🍃✧༺ extremely unedited!

#🖤 ; lex talks 2 anons!#stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #teen wolf smut #stiles stilinski x reader #my inbox 🫧

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qnomnstrs · 5 months ago

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Heian Era! Sukuna x Concubine! reader The only way is down

PART 2 IS HERE

I think I might give this one a part two with more fluff

Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, use of word slut, pregnancy, slight humiliation, plot with porn, fluff if you squint, creampie, double dicks, anal, fingering, blowjob, double penetration, dacryphillia, trueform! Sukuna

Word Count 3K

Sukuna speaking is in red

y/n speaking is in green

Hana speaking is in blue

Small Concubine in purple

Small Concubine’s Servant in orange

Sukuna ruled over all. Sukuna’s law was above anything else. He ruled over humans and curses. They feasted on human flesh. Towns were turned into cattle farms. Sukuna was not a nice or forgiving man. Even still, he had desires. Many concubines lived in his estate, human concubines. Sukuna had a perversion of taking those frail and weak. He had his favorites that he visited often, causing ranks among the concubines. His favorites received a lady in waiting, their own pavilion and staff. This caused discourse in the concubines. They would try de-ranking each other to move up in status. Sukuna wasn’t any help as he has no care for the concubine disputes. He would kill them if he was displeased.

You were a mid-ranking concubine. You had your own room, bath and a lady-in-waiting. Your pavilion was shared with the other mid ranking concubines. Your servant was a low-level curse. Every servant was a curse. They were faster and more capable than humans. Not to mention a curse can protect a concubine if needed.

You currently were in the garden with the other concubines. A tea party was hosted, you showed up out of respect and curtesy.

A smaller woman next to you spoke, “I love my lady-in-waiting. I view her as a close friend. Its nice to have one! She even tried scolding me for dirtying my dress in the garden! I told her not to worry, she’s so thoughtful!”

You rolled your eyes. She clearly is a new concubine, who moved through the ranks quickly. She was very beautiful and delicate, Sukuna’s type. It irked you when the girls pretended their servants were their friends. You took a sip of your tea and calmly retorted.

“Your lady-in-waiting is here to keep you safe and presentable for Lord Sukuna. If you truly thought of her as your friend, you wouldn’t be so careless. She is the one that gets punished for your naive actions. I hope you can do better in the future.”

The small woman blushed in embarrassment; tears welled up in her eyes. She abruptly got up and rushed off.

“My lady!” Her lady-in-waiting followed closely behind her.

It wasn’t intentional to make her cry, you did feel bad for her servant though. You sighed in frustration, staying a bit longer at the garden party.

“You shouldn’t have been so rude to the new girl; she really didn’t do anything.” A woman in green stated.

“I was just trying to give her some advice, she is too naïve. She is climbing the ranks too quickly. If she becomes a top consort, she will be de ranked quickly; trusting others so openly. Once at the top, the only way is back down.” You spoke the truth. You purposely don’t rank up for this very reason. Sukuna comes and visits you once in a blue moon. He has so many women here, he couldn’t visit them all in one month if he visited one every night. When he visits you, you sleep with him and do what he asks. You don’t do anything fancy.

Speak of the devil, Sukuna himself rounded the corner. He wore a leisure robe, his bottom set of arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t look happy. His bottom eye is looking directly at you, you shiver at the condescending glare. All the women get up from their seats and bow. You did as well.

“My Lord Sukuna” everyone says in unison. You glance forward and notice the small consort rubbing the tears out of her eyes. She is behind Sukuna. Normally Sukuna doesn’t settle consort disputes, he must of ran into her on accident.

“Tell me who made this brat cry?” He was pissed like he didn’t want to be here. You had to be careful, or it was your head. Before anyone else spoke you ratted yourself out.

“Lord Sukuna it was me. It was not my intention; I was giving her advice.”

“I’m sure, and what advice would that be? Get to the point.”

“I simply stated she should be more cautious of her actions as they affect others. She should be careful of whom she calls friends.”

Sukuna looked at your servant, Hana, who nodded in agreement.

“Is this true?” Sukuna now looked at the small lady.

“WELL- SHE!” The lady started to get anxious and loud but her servant stopped her.

“Yes, my Lord this is what happened. My lady is just not used to being critiqued so openly.”

Sukuna scoffed, “So my time was wasted for this shit!? Learn how to talk to others, I won’t accept another stupid outburst from you again”.

“Yes, my Lord” The small lady sniffled and bowed her head.

“AND YOU-“

Sukuna now had his attention back on you. You can’t deny the nervous sweat on your neck. He was so intimidating. Hopefully you wouldn’t be de-ranked or even worse killed.

“Visit my room tonight.” With that Sukuna turned and left, not even awaiting your response. He wanted you to visit him tonight? After you annoyed him? Suddenly, being de-ranked didn’t sound so bad.

“My lady you need to be careful on how you speak to Lord Sukuna” The servant was trying to calm the small lady who was still crying.

“Miss, we should prepare you a bath and get ready.” Hana spoke to you awakening you from your deep thought.

“Yes of course.”

You followed Hana to your room. She helped you undress from your layers of robes and started a warm bath. The bath had aromatic oils and flowers in it. She helped scrub you down and shave. Once done, she combed your hair, decorating it with fine jewelry. You wore a see-thru night gown and robe over it. Your attire was alluring but not over the top, just the way you liked it. Hana began escorting you to Lord Sukuna’s palace. Once you arrived at his door, Hana stopped you.

“Please be careful my lady.” You smiled at the thought. She was worried about you.

“Thank you Hana I’m sure it will be alright.”

Hana knocked, “Lord Sukuna Lady y/n is here”

“You may enter”

Hana opened the door for you. She bowed her head and left. You bowed your head and awaited Sukuna’s command. He was only after his own pleasure as usual.

“Enough with the formalities come here and undress.”

You looked up and saw Sukuna on top of his large bed. He sat in his usual position, resting on his side with a shit eating grin. You blushed at his urgency and began to undress. It was still uncomfortable to get bare in front of someone so casually, but you hid the emotion from him. You crawled onto the bed on your knees in front of him. He undid his robe revealing his hard abs and two flaccid cocks. Just seeing you naked wasn’t enough for him.

“Suck me off until I’m satisfied”

“Yes, my lord”

You bend down and put one cock in your mouth and stroke the other. Even soft, his cocks are thick and 8 inches long. He was a grower too. He was a large curse after all. You swirled your tongue around the tip. You took as much as you could in your mouth. You could feel him growing in your mouth. You repeated the motions then switched to suck the other one on top. At full length he is 12 inches and four fingers thick. Sukuna liked how well you deepthroated him compared to most concubines. You were sloppy. You would gag and have saliva dripping down your chin. You hollowed your cheeks. You loved the feeling of his cocks hitting the back of your throat and how he tasted so clean every time.

“Maybe I should bring you in here more often. I think you could take all of me eventually since you love my cocks so much, fuck!”

He put a hand on your head and pushed you down further. He rocked his body into your face. You breathed through your nose and let out a big gag. He released your head. You went back down to his bottom one. The other one resting atop your head. Pre cum dribbled into your hair and face.

“That’s enough”

You pulled back a string of saliva connecting you to his cock. Your mouth was open and your breathing was ragged. It was surprising he didn’t finish in your mouth like usual.

He pulled you on your back, towering over you. Your eyes met his chest. You admired his attractive body and markings.

“You caused quite a stir today”

“Im sorry my Lord you should have not been involved in such trivial matters.” You were scared now. Why bring this up now? What was his intention? You shook slightly.

Sukuna smiled and his pupils dilated. He liked seeing you so frail and scared. Out of all his concubines, you always remained calm and collective. It caught his eye, and he started to acknowledge your presence a while ago.

“Maybe I should make you cry as you did the other girl today. Perhaps I will fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

You looked up into his eyes. The fear in your eyes was delicious. You weren’t sure how to respond to him. You’ve had sex with Sukuna before he’s huge and it’s kind of painful, more than pleasurable. He’s never tried to please you before, only himself. You assume he means fuck you so hard that you can’t walk afterwards, nothing pleasurable about that. Sukuna stays in his same position, top arms on their elbows above your head. His bottom arms move. One hand opens your legs and the other spreads your folds. He puts in one finger. His hands are so much bigger than yours. One of his fingers was three of yours.

“damn you’re tight” he massages his finger inside trying to find where its most sensitive. You moan quietly as he abuses the same spot. As you loosen up, he adds a second finger. You put your hands up to his chest trying to stay quiet. Your legs were twitching as he penetrated you. He adds a third finger gently massaging your insides. The tension in your belly was rising about to break. You continued to let out soft mewls and wriggling your hips around. You couldn’t stay still as the pleasure was overstimulating.

“Go ahead and cum y/n”

Upon hearing Sukuna speak your name, The tension broke and you groaned as you squirted on his hand. You still tried to be as composed as possible when you came.

“Thank you, Lord Sukuna,”

“Tch what the hell was that?”

Sukuna leaned back onto his knees, while you laid down. Your eyes were widened. Curious, what he was so upset with?

“I can’t wait to break you. This time down hide your moans from me. Relax I want to see you melt under me.”

“y-yes sir” That was the first time you stuttered in front of him. How were you supposed to relax when he made you so tense? Either way you would listen to his command.

He positioned his bottom cock at your entrance, rubbing it up and down. He pushed forward. His head couldn’t even fit. He continued pushing and prodding, your pussy slowly giving and allowing him entrance. His head was all the way in and you shuddered. You could feel every ridge, and vein in his cock. After your first orgasm everything was sensitive. You gripped onto his forearms. He was still on his knees, you could see his face more clearly and he yours. You blushed at the thought of him watching you receive pleasure from him. His top set of eyes watched your face and the bottom set watched your pussy. He had a shit eating grin watching you blush under him. Sukuna continued pushing his cock all the way in until you were full. You moaned and rubbed under your belly button, where you could feel the tip of his cock press against you. It was so sensitive up there. You could never reach with your own hands how far Sukuna is. His top cock was resting on your stomach. He used one of his hands to pump it. Before letting you adjust, he began moving at a slow pace. Normally he would move at a fast and rough pace. This allowed you to feel your insides being rearranged instead of going numb.

“nhnn- o-ohh! Ugh nn wait I ugh-“ You couldn’t speak normal sentences anymore. It felt like he was taking the air out of your lungs. He continued to push into you.

“Open your mouth little slut. Clearly you still need something to suck on”

He bent down and kissed you; he has never done that. It was a sloppy wet kiss. His tongue prodded you. You moaned in his mouth and whined. You moved your hips up, he had to pin you down. He switches his angle rubbing a sensitive spot that it almost hurt. You dug your nail into his arms, then scratched down his back. You put your hands everywhere they could reach to try and hold yourself. You came harshly. You couldn’t even tell your orgasm was approaching. Your pussy clenched but it was no match for the thick cock inside you; he kept pushing in as your pussy tried pushing him out.

“Fuck woman your sucking the soul out of my cock right now.”

He continued a few thrusts while a hand pumped a few fingers in your ass. You have done anal with him before, so this wasn’t an issue.

“Sir i- I can’t”

“Nu-ugh you haven’t received your punishment yet little slut I don’t see any tears yet.

He pulled out and lined both his cocks at your entrances. He pressed in. If you felt full earlier, now you really do. You were sure there wasn’t any room for any organs in your body. You laid there limp. You were still so sensitive and sore from the last round. You pussy was still trying to push him out.

“Fuck!”

This time he had a fast and rough pace. He was so deep in your ass. Tears welled up in your eyes. Finally, those sweet tears of pleasure.

“My-my Lord Sukuna please -please I- can’t”

Sukuna started to lick the tears off your face now fully aware of your desperation. It turned him on to see you unravel and needy. He continued his brutal pace, and you came. Sukuna finally roared as he came hard. He filled you to the brim, thrusting into you a few more times. Sukuna wasn’t tired in the slightest. He pulled out slowly. It felt empty.

“Get on your hands and knees, show me your pussy.” You shakily moved. His cum dripped out of both holes. He smacked your ass and played with your body.

“Fuck yes”

“Thank you, Lord Sukuna,”

“You may leave now y/n”

You jumped when he said your name. How did he remember? He never knew it before. You put on your clothes and left quietly. Hana was outside the door and helped you to your room. Once there you crashed. You were so exhausted and sore.

The next morning Hana gave you breakfast in bed, heating pads and tea. It was normal for concubines to have to stay in bed after sex. You thought about when you first arrived how embarrassing it was to have someone help wash the cum out of you or to wait outside Sukuna’s room. Now it’s normal.

Nothing unusual happened after that. A few weeks later you were tending to the garden, practicing songs and dances with the other concubines. You were all taught these arts to impress Sukuna at banquets and such. However today you were exhausted. You were sleepier than usual, as of late. Once you arrived in your room you started to fall asleep on the couch.

“My lady sorry to wake you, you mustn’t sleep on the couch please sleep in your bed.”

“Just let me rest with my eyes closed, I won’t fall asleep.” You fell asleep sitting up on the large couch. In your room you had a bed, dresser, and sitting area for guests. Hana let you sleep there, clearly you were very tired. She went to prepare some food for later. Sukuna barged into your room suddenly

“My Lord!” Hana dropped to the ground and bowed.

“Where is she?”

“Lady y/n is resting on the couch my lord”

“Why is she sleeping there and not her bed?”

“My lord she seemed very tired and I did not want to disturb her”

“Very well you may take your leave”

Sukuna shooshed away Hana. You still slept. Sukuna came and sat next to you. He didn’t wake you, just let you sleep. You moved in your sleep and rested your head in his lap. He huffed and petted your head. He was coming for sexual reasons but decided to let you sleep. Especially since he noticed your energy was off. He studied your sleeping face and contemplated why your energy fluctuating. Then it hit him, you’re pregnant. He couldn’t believe it. He finally has an heir. Being a human-turned-curse has wasn’t sure if he could produce children. Finally, out of all the consorts you were pregnant. He boasted out laughing and it awoke you from your slumber. Your eyes opened still full of sleep. You stared at your room trying to wake up. That’s when you realized you were sleeping on someone. It was Sukuna! You jolted up and bowed your head.

“Lord Sukuna I am sorry for sleeping I wasn’t aware of your arrival.”

“Ill forgive it this time. Its understood with your condition.”

You gave him a puzzled look, as he smiled like a madman.

“Y/n’s Servant!”

Hana hurried back in “Yes my lord?”

“You will gather Y/n and her belongings; she is to be moved into my palace at once.”

“Yes of course, thank you Lord Sukuna”

“Wait my Lord why? I don’t understand”

“You are being promoted”

“I understand my Lord but why into your palace? I dare not question you my lord but I have never heard of another consort being in your palace”

“Always the courteous silver tongue you have y/n. Yes you are the first to be promoted as a wife.”

“A wife!?”

“Yes enough rambling I must go”

“Servant make sure you double y/n’s portions and have the doctor come check her for the pregnancy”

“Yes my lord” Sukuna left just as fast as he arrived.

“PREGENANT!!!???”

Hana looked at you shocked.

“Oh! Miss y/n! How delightful! A wife! And an heir!”

You couldn’t believe it. All this time you were trying to stay hidden and now you’re promoted to wife. It can’t get worse than this!

#rin writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #heian sukuna

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thewinchestah · 11 months ago

Text

"INTERMISSION" - ALASTOR X READER

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, masturbation, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etC

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Part I | Part 2 | Part 4

A/N: Hello,hello everyone! Again, thank you all so much for the amazing reception to "Good things come for those who wait". I'm truly touched by your words and praise. I never really tought my writing would see the light of day at this point, nor this much love. My biggest thanks to everyone who takes the time to leave a comment.

So, I'm a bit self concious about this piece. "Intermission" is supossed to be a light break from the previous two fics. A breath of fresh, sex smelling air as I write the next long chapter. (It's gonna be nasty). My intent with this fic was to make it kinda chaotic, kinda rushed like Alastor's mind would be as he masturbates himself at the thought of you and what you are doing to him.

I truly hope I can do your hopes and expectations for my writting justice. I really appreciate feedback on this one.

As always, my special thanks goe to my lovely friend @smallershorteranduncut, who always support my ideas. Te amo amiga <3

Taglist: @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby @lady-valtieri . If the tags aren't working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.

PART I | PART II

Alastor considered himself a smart man, a cunning, self-sufficient, resourceful man. So, naturally, the irony of him being locked inside the bathroom, his cock in his hands while he tortures himself with thoughts of you made him frustrated at best, murderous at worst.

He hates everything about it, he hates to admit that his rut indeed makes him on edge and out of control, he hates to admit that before he met you the ways he dealt with his rut were… undignified. And he hates even more admitting that since he had you at his every whim, to fuck, to breed, to inflict the most depraved ways of torture his rut was becoming a pleasurable thing. All because of you, only because of you.

He had quite literally just fucked you so hard you passed out, his name a scream on your lips, so loud heaven might have heard it. Some part of Alastor wishes that heaven heard it, so they know they made a mistake, so they know they let one of the most sacred things to exist get down here. In hell, with him. Your heavenly body is his to do as he pleases, to break it, desecrate its holiness as he fucks you into submission, granting him a relief so pure, so all consuming that it shouldn’t even be allowed in hell. And they will never correct this mistake.

Some part of Alastor wishes no know never knew about how you always make a mess of yourself for him, how you gladly sprawl yourself open for him, eyes lustful and hopeful that if you let him take it out just a little more on you tonight he will send you over the edge with those two little words: good. girl.

And what a perfect good girl you were, doe eyes always seeking for his across any room, with adoration, with barely hidden lust, with love. Such a contrast when compared to his eyes, burning red from desire, anger, lack of empathy. Red condescending eyes filled with excitement about what he is going to do to you, what he is making you endure for him.

It doesn’t make it any easier on Alastor’s painfully hard cock that you are sleeping just a door away after a rough fuck, his seed still coating your thighs.

He flicks his wrist up and down his shaft, slowly.

Just as slow as how his cock stretched your tight cunt, inch by inch when he first took you. You weren’t nearly as wet as you should be for the first time taking his cock but you darling thing decided to break one of his rules. Your legs desperately spreading in a futile attempt to accommodate him, the delicious fear in your eyes as you realized what you’ve gotten yourself into, completely at his mercy, enduring the pain of being broken by his monster cock. The scream you let out when he buried himself to the hilt inside you, you liked it even when it was hurting, because the pain Alastor inflicted on you was ten times better than any pleasure your silly mortal lovers had ever given you.

The Radio Demon has a knuckle white grip on his cock now, even with hands as big as his, Alastor is having trouble fully closing his hand around the swollen member, his need to claim, to mark, to breed you strong as ever. Precum leaks for the engorged red tip and a hiss escapes his lips, the feeling of powerlessness consuming him in waves of a maddening, unprecedented carnality. The only thing the mighty demon overlord can do to mimic the divine feeling of your cunt being spreading the glossy drop around his overly sensitive tip, grip his cock even tighter as he strokes himself harder and faster, like a maniac.

How the mighty have fallen, he thinks to himself, he’s completely cunt struck by you.

Naturally, he’s gonna make you pay for it.

Alastor fucks himself fast and hard, trying to pic up the breakneck speed he usually does when he’s burying himself inside your heat, his grip sometimes painful. Exactly how the way he wants to be next time he fucks you.

The raw carnality consuming him is too overbearing, so overbearing he closes his burning red eyes as his brain process the severity of his situation: he found the perfect plaything, a deliciously submissive doe for him to breed until she’s numb with the feeling of his cock thrusting into her, completely filled up by his seed. It made his rut more bearable, it made his rut pleasurable, everytime he needed to scratch that primal need you’re always there, always ready to completely submit to him, to completely ruin yourself for him. Alastor honestly thought having you always there, as fun as it was to toy with you that way, would make things better. But it actually made it worse. Because now he knows.

Oh fuck, now he knows.

More pre cum spills, running through Alastor’s claws, dripping and staining his pants, making a mess under him. But it’s not enough, because it will never be enough. It’s not your mess coating his cock, running through his claws, it’s not the sinful invitation of your wetness staining his clothes.

Realization hits him like a curse.

His wrist flicks around his cock with a purpose: to find relief in pain.

You’re the only thing he wants. You are the only woman he will ever want like that. You are the only one he wants to see the obscene amount of his seed dripping from a perfectly swollen red cunt. You are the only one who could possibly deserve this. Now he knows what it is like to feel, to want someone. To have an irrevocable connection. No one in heaven, hell, and all the other possible realms of creation have the right to even think of you in that way. You are his and that’s final.

Next time he takes you he will make sure you know that.

Stroking himself erratically now, Alastor pictures you peacefully sleeping next door, luscious body sprawled on the bed like you don’t have a care in the world. He wants the first thing you feel when you open your eyes is fear. Good, you should feel scared. You should be very, very scared of what he is going to do to you. He hopes to relish in fear in your eyes as he enters your tight pussy, stretching your velvet walls apart in ways you’ve never felt before. Being obscenely broken to accommodate the girth of his rut swollen cock.

Fear, because you should be scared. Fear because you aren’t. Fear because as the realization that Alastor needs you terrifies him, the realization that you fucking love the pain of being a submissive slut to the Radio Demon will undo you, in unholy ways.

The scene of your ass on his lap, red with regret from his whipping and a symphony of your soft moans overrides his mind. You were sobbing from those little whips? He’s gonna double that. He’s gonna give you something to truly cry about. He’s gonna see you cum from the pain of being whipped into submission and his voice only. Because it is what you deserve for making him feel like this. Because it is what you want.

He’s close now, he can tell. He’s gonna cum soon. And it is not going to be inside your pussy. Alastor is enraged about that.

A clawed hand grips the wall besides him. He strokes himself at a merciless pace. Just as merciless as he is gonna be with you. He knows your body like the palm of the hand that is clawing the wall because of the maddening desire he has for you. He’s gonna lure you so you purposefully make a mistake. Just so you can give him the excuse to punish you into understanding that you are irrevocably his. He’s gonna take all of you as it is his right.

His cock twitches, claws scratch the posh wallpaper all the way down, he spills so much cum, all over his lap, his hand.

The sight of Alastor’s flustered face, in post orgasmic daze after mercilessly touching himself at the thought of you is something you definitely should see. But he will never let you.

Because now his mind is clear, he knows it and delights in acceptance. You are his, his mate, his love.

And he’s gonna take his sweet time torturing you into compliance and understanding. With pain, pleasure and all that is Alastor’s nature.

#atençao creuzeback vamos lá que vai começar a baixaria #alstor #hazbin hotel #hazbim hotel fic #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon x you #the radio demon x reader #baixaria

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fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago

Text

My Home

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x (shy-ish)fem!reader

Summary: You are Deacon's favorite neighbour, but when you start receiving threats, he notices a change in you. While he and his team search for answers, you are attacked. Deacon returns home to find you and come to some realisations of his own.

Warnings: fluff then angst then back to fluff, descriptive threats and violence against reader (nothing too serious, though), Deacon gets angry and protective

Word Count: 4.5k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Moving to a new place is never easy, but when you’re on the shyer side, it becomes infinitely more difficult. When you move into your new home in Los Angeles, you are careful about who you choose to introduce yourself to. One neighbour stands out; you see him leaving and returning at odd hours, often wearing a shirt with ‘L.A.P.D.’ printed on it. When he notices you in your yard or getting out of your car, he smiles or waves, and you return it, albeit shyly. He is the only neighbour you think about and actually want to talk to.

So, now that your boxes are unpacked and your spaces are beginning to feel like your own, you decide to bake him a few treats and put together a gift basket. He welcomed you without bombarding questions or making you nervous, and you appreciate that. And his attractiveness certainly doesn’t hurt your opinion of him.

Crossing the road carefully, you balance the finished basket in your arms. There are baked goods, cookies, a batch of scones, and a casserole at the bottom, with some store-bought items you think anyone would appreciate. You saw him arrive home about an hour ago, just after you removed the scones from the oven. Taking a deep breath, you raise one hand and knock on his door, silently praying that you are right about him and that he is as kind as you believe he will be. The door opens quickly, and he smiles at you. You can’t stop your matching smile as it grows, nor do you want to.

“Hi,” you say, willing your voice to remain steady as you introduce yourself.

“Pretty name,” he murmurs. “I’m David, but my friends call me Deacon.”

“Then what I should I call you?”

His eyebrows raise as his smile shifts, crooked at his amusement. “Deacon,” he decides, nodding once.

“Nice to meet you, Deacon. I’m sure you’ve seen me – or maybe you haven’t – but I just moved in across the street a few weeks ago. I wanted to do a little something for my new neighbours, so I brought you this,” you say, offering him the basket, though his eyes remain on your face as he accepts it. “I hope you like it.”

“Thank you,” he says, trying to catch your eyes again.

You shy away slightly with his full attention on you, though you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“And I have noticed you,” Deacon adds. “Who wouldn’t?”

Heat crawls up your neck, and your shoes are suddenly worthy of all your attention. Deacon chuckles, turning to set the basket down as he treats it with such care you suddenly wonder what it would be like to be held by him.

“You’re a little shy, aren’t you?” Deacon asks.

It doesn’t sound right; when other people ask, it’s a condescending or pity-filled question, but when Deacon asks, it seems like he’s asking about your favourite colour. He treats the topic like it’s just another mundane fact about you.

Nodding, you force your eyes back to his face. “I can be.”

“I’ll try not to tease you, then. Too much.”

“Seems like you’re starting early.”

You smile, and Deacon can barely handle it. Your personality drew him in, even when he only knew you from across the street. Your shy greetings and kindness awe him; Deacon doesn’t understand how someone who gets shy so quickly can also be so kind. You’re like a drop of sunlight, and Deacon has learned to appreciate each drop he can find.

✯✯✯✯✯

After giving Deacon the gift basket, and avoiding his questioning as to who else received one, you grow closer daily. Instead of waving when he gets home, Deacon jogs across the street and stands in your yard to talk to you. He asks you about your day and if you’ve baked anything else. He remains true to his word, only teasing you occasionally when you get shy.

As you return home, Deacon is waiting in front of your door. He walks to your car, opening your door after you turn the ignition off.

“You’re late,” he says, offering a hand as he helps you out.

“I needed groceries,” you argue, smiling as you squeeze his hand in thanks.

You hop out of the car and move to the back, revealing numerous bags.

“However,” you begin, turning toward him with pure sunshine in your eyes. “I don’t think I can eat this entire recipe by myself.”

Deacon’s brows furrow and your smile drops slightly, prepared to retract your comment.

“Well, who could turn down an invitation like that? Does the smile come with the meal?”

You press your shoulder to your cheek, hiding as you turn away from him.

“How are you going to survive tonight?” Deacon asks playfully.

“I also got you a new flowerpot, because the ones on your porch are outgrowing the vase. If you don’t like it, I can get you another one.”

“It’s perfect.”

“You haven’t seen it.”

“You bought it. It’s perfect.”

Deacon decides to keep you company while you cook, though you think he’s more efficient in distracting you. He helps you chop vegetables and mix spices, but when his arm brushes against yours, you lose your train of thought and stop talking in the middle of a sentence.

Deacon notices and smiles but decides saying anything would fall into the ‘teasing too much’ category. And if he accidentally touches you again, it seems like a complete accident.

“You’re the best neighbour ever,” Deacon praises after he takes the first bite.

“I think you are,” you argue.

“You don’t know any other neighbours,” Deacon says, pointing at you with his fork.

“Who needs more than you?”

Deacon smiles, his brows raising at your boldness. When he leaves after helping you clean up, he hugs you tightly and promises to cook for you as soon as he has time.

“So, when you retire?” you joke.

“Just for that comment, we’re setting a date,” Deacon decides, opening the calendar on his phone. “Next Friday. That work for you?”

“That’s perfect.”

Deacon turns to return home, and you call his name, waiting for him to turn around before you speak.

“Thank you.”

“It’s what the best neighbours are for!” he yells, winking at you and laughing when you duck your chin to hide your face.

✯✯✯✯✯

The morning after your dinner with Deacon, you wake with a smile. His car is gone; he told you he was leaving early for a 24-hour shift. You tried to get him home early, but he said time with you was more important than sleep.

When you walk into your kitchen, you see the flowerpot you got for Deacon and decide to surprise him by transplanting his plant so it has room to grow and finding the perfect spot to place it. You toss a pair of gloves, a small trowel and an old rag into the container before locking your front door and walking toward Deacon’s house. Stopping in your driveway, you set everything down to remove a piece of paper from under your windshield wiper.

NOT WITH A BANG BUT WITH A WHIMPER

where women belong

The papers are haphazardly taped together: the concluding line of T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” and three additional words. Together, the sentence doesn’t mean anything to you until you read the last line, clumsily added in bold block letters.

no more policeman

You swallow harshly, glancing around. It’s another ordinary day in the neighbourhood as you hold a threatening note that someone somehow placed less than thirty feet from your front door without being noticed. Sliding the paper in your pocket, you look between Deacon’s house and the flowerpot.

“No more policeman,” you repeat to yourself. “But the policeman isn’t home.”

To get your mind off the note and Deacon, you continue your walk to his porch and kneel as you begin working. It doesn’t take too long, but the process is therapeutic while it lasts.

There’s probably a metaphor about outgrowing your old surroundings or finding bigger, better things, but you're not in the mood to appreciate it. Once you’re finished, you can only think about the paper in your pocket. Stepping back to ensure the plant looks good in its new location, you nod to yourself and remove your gloves, gathering your things to return to your empty house.

Deacon can never find out about the note; no one can. As far as you can tell, after hours of staring at it, the message means you will end not with a bang but with a whimper unless you stop talking to Deacon. You pray to find a different meaning, but you only know one policeman and the singular tense makes you think that’s who it’s about.

Spending the first night alone after receiving the threat is not enjoyable, and your fear multiplies when you remember that Deacon is at work all night. Finally falling into a fitful sleep, you dream of Deacon and a time when nothing separates your lives.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, Deacon still isn’t back when you wake. Moving slowly, you enter your kitchen and prepare far more food than you can eat alone. Someone rings the doorbell, and when you finally reach it, pulling it ajar slowly, a package is in the middle of your doormat. You rip it open, your heart falling when you see the paper within.

good job not telling anyone.

Friends can stay close until they learn too much, for that is when enemies are formed.

The first line feels like a bullet ripping through you: whoever this is can see you. If they know you haven’t told anyone, they know everything you have or haven’t done recently. Who knows how long they have been watching you.

You hear Deacon’s car before you see it, rushing to stash the new note with the other. Friends can stay close, but you can’t alert Deacon that anything is wrong. You don’t know what to do. If you weren’t aware that someone was watching you, you would tell Deacon and pray that everything worked out in the end, but now you’re putting Deacon in the line of fire, which is something he chooses to do at work, not at home.

“Good morning!” he calls as he jogs across the street.

“Morning,” you answer, letting him in before returning to the kitchen to finish cooking.

Deacon’s brows furrow at your lack of enthusiasm. You usually act like you haven’t seen him in years, even if it’s been mere minutes.

“Everything go alright without me last night?” Deacon asks, helping himself to your fridge.

You hum something like “mmhmm,” and that’s all Deacon gets. He closes the fridge a bit too roughly, and you jump.

“Sorry,” Deacon says quietly.

“’S okay,” you mumble. “How was work?”

“Pretty good. There was a bank robbery in the hills with a bunch of hostages, but other than that it was pretty quiet.”

You nod, not looking in his direction.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?” he asks gently.

“I’m good,” you answer, sending him a close-lipped smile before sliding a plate in front of him. “Glad work went well.”

A car door closes outside, and you flinch. Deacon knows your shyness inside and out, but this jumpiness seems more related to fear.

“A few of the guys from my team and I are going out to dinner tonight, you should come,” Deacon offers, watching your eyes dart past him.

“Um, I actually have a few things to do tonight, but thank you for the invite,” you decline.

“That's fine,” Deacon says, smiling when you look in his direction again. “But it’s an open invite, so if you change your mind let me know.”

You nod, wiping an invisible stain on the table before you.

“It looks great by the way.”

“What does?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you finally look him in the eye.

“My plant. You have good taste; I never would have considered moving it there.”

Your shoulders fold inward, your body physically shrinking, which scares Deacon. He’s prepared to hold your face in one place to keep your attention and get answers, even though he’d be breaking his promise about abusing your shyness. Someone knocks, and your eyes slam shut as you take a shaky breath.

“I’ll get it,” Deacon offers, tossing his napkin onto the table.

“No, it’s fine,” you whisper, but Deacon raises his eyebrows and points at you, enough of a warning that you fall back into your seat.

He returns a moment later and stops in the doorway, looking at you.

“Pizza delivery had the wrong house.”

“Who orders pizza this early?” you wonder aloud.

Deacon’s lips twitch at the reminder of your usual self. His phone rings, and you turn away quickly, like the sound prefaces something far more dangerous. Deacon focuses on you as he answers, sighing when Hondo asks him to return to the station.

“What are you doing tonight?” Deacon inquires as he slides his phone into his pocket.

“Running errands,” you lie.

“I have to go back to work but call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

You nod and wait for the sound of Deacon’s car to fade before cleaning up the breakfast mess. Deacon usually helps, but when he’s called in, you’re more than happy to do it alone, grateful for the time you spend with him. Today, though, you want to call him, beg him to come back and tell him everything.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Because it’s stupid,” Deacon snaps.

Street’s eyes widen as he raises his hands. “Sorry.”

“What’s up with you?” Hondo asks, not unkind but unwilling to skirt around the fact that something is bothering Deacon and affecting his ability to be part of the team.

Deacon sighs. “My neighbour. She’s not acting like herself, and I think she lied to me about where she was going.”

“Maybe she has a hot date,” Street says before rushing to say, “Kidding.”

Deacon manages a sad chuckle before responding, “I wish that was it. She can be shy, but she's always kind and happy. Today she's been jumpy and scared. Every unexpected sound seemed to terrify her.”

“Wait, sunny neighbour from across the street?” Hondo clarifies. Deacon nods and Hondo asks, “Should we do something?”

“You know her?” Luca asks Hondo.

“I’ve met her twice. She barely talks to me, but that doesn’t sound like her. If something upset her enough to scare her like that and keep her from telling the one person she doesn’t get that shy around, it’s serious.”

“Tell us what to do and we’re on it, Deac,” Street offers.

“I need to know if anyone has contacted her lately,” Deacon begins.

“Phone records?” Luca asks. “We can find out if anyone on the street has security cams, too.”

“It’s a start,” Deacon replies. “Thanks, guys.”

Hondo claps Deacon’s shoulder, nodding a silent promise that they’ll do anything to help.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is silent. The television couldn’t hold your attention, so you switched it off and decided staring into our backyard would be a better idea. Mid-day, there isn’t much to see in terms of suburban Los Angeles wildlife. The wind blows slightly, so you watch the grass, wishing you felt safe enough to sit outside to read or open the window and bake.

Glass shattering pulls you from your daydream and grass-watching. Stepping back from the window, you gauge the distance between yourself, the kitchen knives on the counter, and the nearest exit. Before you can decide which direction to move, someone appears in the doorway, exiting the hall.

A deep chuckle shakes you to your core, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open when he rumbles, “This is how the world ends.”

Deep down, you know it’s a bad idea, but you duck to the side and try to beat him to the door. You’re nearly there, close enough that you can taste freedom when an arm wraps around your waist, your ribs practically creaking as he hauls you backwards.

“No,” you cry, digging your fingers into the forearm pressed against your stomach.

“Yes,” he replies, turning and releasing you quickly so you crash into the edge of your kitchen counter.

Turning toward him, you try to round the corner and grab a knife, but he slips his gloved hand over your cheek and into your hair, pulling it by the roots to tilt your head back. Attempting to scratch his face and impair his vision, you raise to your tiptoes and smack your hand across his face, but the mask he’s wearing harms your hand far worse than you managed to hurt him.

Gasping as a tear rolls over your cheek, he hooks a foot behind your ankles, knocking your legs out from under you as he holds you up by your hair.

“Not with a bang,” he whispers.

“What do you want?” you choke out, tears falling freely at the pain and fear you’re experiencing.

“I want my neighbourhood back,” he growls, “and if everyone here has to go out with a whimper, so be it.”

You want to ask more questions, but he jerks his elbow back before throwing you to the ground. Your shoulder and hip collide with the floor first, followed by the side of your head. Curling in on yourself, you try to find a plan to get out of this situation, but he’s bigger than you, stronger, and comes prepared for a fight.

“You can have the neighbourhood,” you try.

“Not with people like you, and the Duncans, and the cop. This was my turf, my family's ground, and you stole it!”

He uses the heel of his boot to roll you over, stepping on your hip as he follows your movement. Standing above you, with his feet beside your hips, you could try to kick him from behind, but he kneels before you have a chance. Holding your hips down with his knees, he raises his hands to hold either side of your head.

“If I have to come back again, you won’t be so lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember whose land this is,” he whispers before lifting your head.

You fight to resist the movement, but he pulls your neck up before pushing his hands back down forcefully, cracking your head against the floor and silencing everything.

After you lose consciousness, he stands, wipes his hands together and leaves through the broken window he used to enter.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Deacon, we got something,” Street says, approaching with a tablet.

He connects to a larger screen, and a grainy video camera recording appears.

“This is from one of your neighbors’ doorbell cams. We can’t see great, but I think it’s a start.”

The video begins, and a large man carrying an envelope walks by on the sidewalk. He asks a man standing in the driveway which house you live in, thanking him quickly before disappearing.

“He doesn’t appear on any other cameras that night,” Luca adds. “But the next day, your camera caught something, Deac.”

“My camera? It didn’t get anything the first time, but it did the second,” Deacon clarifies. “How did that happen?”

“He probably went a different way or didn’t trigger the motion capture,” Hondo answers, gesturing toward the screen.

Luca plays the video, and a man with a similar build walks to your door, knocking as he leaves a package. It’s fuzzy, but you open the door and the package, obviously not pleased by what you read. The video segment ends, and the camera stops recording until Deacon arrives home.

“Wait, fast-forward,” Deacon requests. “I went to her house that day and someone else showed up.”

Luca navigates to the “pizza man” that Deacon met, and they all look at each other in shock when they notice it’s the same man.

“You’ve seen him, Deac,” Hondo says. “Get to the sketch artist and we’ll start working.”

“And if it’s not quick?”

“We’ll stay as long as you need us, Deacon,” Street promises.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you come to, your head pounds, and you can’t hear anything past your heartbeat in your ears. Lying still, you focus on taking steady breaths and staying calm. It doesn’t work very well because your body wants to panic and fall apart simultaneously. When your hearing returns, you take a minute to ensure everything feels okay. Your fingers, toes, arms and legs move when you want them to, and although you know you probably shouldn’t move your head yet, you sit up.

Breathing through the pain, you take your time standing, pulling yourself up with the counter above you. When you’re upright, and the dizziness fades to a dull ache in the back of your skull, you look around but don’t see your phone anywhere. With no choice and an intense need for Deacon, you leave. His car is gone, but you continue to his door anyway, sitting beside his recently re-potted plant and closing your eyes as you wait.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We just released the sketch to the press and we’re running it through all of our databases,” Hicks says, joining the search for your source of fear.

“She isn’t answering her phone,” Deacon grumbles.

“Go check on her, Deac, we’ll keep you in the loop.”

Deacon nods, rushing to the locker room and gathering his things before leaving, desperate to see you and promise everything will be alright. He pulls into his driveway and turns toward your house, stopping when he hears a short whine behind him. You’re on his porch, slumped against the wall and broken. There’s no blood visible, but bruises are forming along your hairline and over your temples, and your consciousness appears to be fading quickly.

Deacon stoops, using a gentle finger to move your head slowly. You likely have a concussion, but he needs to get you inside, so he moves an arm behind your neck, keeping your head in line with your spine as he carries you into his house. Setting you on the couch, he whispers that he’ll be right back before gathering a first aid kit and a bag of ice wrapped in a dish towel.

“Hey,” he murmurs, watching your eyes flutter open. “You’re safe now.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Ribs. My head.”

Deacon holds your shoulder down to keep you from moving too suddenly. He lays the covered ice over your head before pushing your shirt up to inspect your stomach and ribs. Dark bruises cover most of your skin, and although he can’t see, he’s sure they wrap around your back. A scrape over your belly button makes Deacon think that your assailant was wearing a watch or some other abrasive jewellery. His jaw clenches, holding tight as he surveys your skin with darkened eyes. His hands remain gentle, although his outward calmness is only for your benefit. Taking your hand in his, he applies a cooling antibiotic ointment to the scrapes across your palm before wrapping a bandage around it.

“He told me not to tell you,” you say, your eyes now open and on Deacon. “There were notes and then he broke a window to get in today.”

“Is he still in your house? Around here?” Deacon demands.

“No. He left a while ago.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

You shrug, and the movement that makes you tense in pain. Deacon smooths his hand over your shoulder, attempting to calm you even as his anger and protectiveness swell. He fails to understand how or why someone could do this to you.

He stays in your sight as he applies ointment to your bruises, and Deacon looks angry because he’s fiercely protective. He is just as handsome as usual, if not more so, you think.

“I’m going to get my phone, I’ll be right back,” he tells you.

You nod, a tear slipping past your waterline as he leaves. Everything hurts, and you want to let Deacon hold you, but he’s on a mission.

Deacon texts his team that you’re injured but safe with him. Hondo answers that they’re chasing a few leads, but they’ll keep him updated before reminding him not to leave your sight. You may be too shy to admit it, but you need Deacon now.

Waiting for Deacon, you feel him brush your tears away before you fall asleep. Holding you carefully, Deacon moves you to his bed, sitting at your side all night, an eye trained on the window in case anyone is stupid enough to come for you again. He raises your bandaged hand to his lips, promising to keep you safe.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking, you feel a pillow under your head that wasn’t there before. The sound of water draws your attention as you realise you are in Deacon’s bed. Standing, you groan, stiff, swollen, and bruised, as you enter Deacon’s hallway to find him. His voice greets you before you see him, and you’ve yet to see this side of him.

“Can you make it stick?” Deacon demands. “Because a woman that I care deeply about is covered in bruises and concussed, so he is going to pay for it one way or another. I don't care who bought this land after the Gold Rush.”

You stop in the doorway, sending him a small smile when he notices you.

“I have to go,” he says, his voice softer as he hangs up. He approaches you, offering his hands and chiding, “You shouldn’t be up.”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you whisper, taking his hands. “Did you find him?”

Deacon nods, leading you to the couch and helping you sit against a large pile of pillows and blankets. “He- apparently his family bought a huge plot of land here, and a few years ago the government seized it to make up for back taxes owed, and this guy isn't happy about all the people living on 'his family's land.' We’ll make sure he gets what he deserves for what he did to you, though. Are you hungry?”

You shake your head, one hand still in Deacon’s.

“What do you need?”

“You,” you whisper, looking up at him.

Deacon smiles, sitting beside you and letting you fold into his arms. Your head finds its spot against his shoulder as you take his hand in yours, leaning against him. His arm wraps around your back, mindful of your bruises as he holds you. In his grasp, you are safe and content, and nothing else matters.

“It’s time for more pain medicine,” Deacon reminds you.

“I’m okay right now.”

You nuzzle closer against him, your legs draped over his lap as he kisses your forehead.

“I think he thought we were together,” you admit.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

You lapse into silence, toying with Deacon’s fingers as his hand rubs gently against your side.

“As if you’d go for me. You’re too pretty,” you say, your voice an addicting mix between shy and sunny.

Part of Deacon wants to drive to the station and question the man who did this himself, but your presence in his arms and your voice remind him where he belongs: with you.

“You’re the pretty one,” he says, the teasing lilt you’ve grown to love lacing each word.

“Even covered in bruises?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“But you are now,” you reply, looking up at Deacon.

“You’re my favourite neighbour.”

“I want to be more,” you say boldly, smiling as Deacon smiles.

“Right now?” he asks, pulling you closer by your hands.

“Right now,” you confirm.

Deacon pulls you into a soft, slow kiss. You may have started as Deacon’s neighbour, but it didn’t take long to realise he is your home. And if your home decides to rough up the man who tried to take you from him, you’ll understand.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #fem!reader #requests

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nathanbatemanfucker · 5 months ago

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Mellow Embers: The Kindling

summary: takin’ our time, let the world turn.

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS, eventual smut (in pt. ii), internal angst if you squint, impatient!reader, joel being a balm to the rushing soul & a lovely (modern but still a little traditional) southern man, unkmowingly insecure!joel, first date, kissing

wc: 2,604

an: a song based fic that inspired this concept! everyone say thank you kacey musgraves <3. perhaps…perhaps i am back. i hope to be, pls be patient with me.

misc. masterlist | the crescendo (pt. ii)

Quick, fast, and in a hurry.

That’s the mantra you always lived your life by, passed down from generation to generation. Raised in the most independent hoard of women, you were taught that you didn’t have a choice. You have to work hard, diligently, fast in order to get things done. There is no sulking, no thinking, no waiting. If you want something done, you’ll do it yourself and you’ll do it with a brisk ease. Everything in life is a task– even finding someone you want to spend your life with.

While you have some hesitancy about putting the petal to the metal when it comes to love–what with the failed marriages of your mother, and her mother and mother– you know no other way. You know no other way, until you met Joel Miller.

Joel trudges into your bar one night and you can’t take your eyes off of him. His eyes are a warm brown that rivals the shine of amber, his jacket a bit dusty, his hair a little wild. He’s moving a bit slowly, rubbing at his back when he takes a seat on the stool a couple strides down the bar from you. You wrap things up with the patron in front of you, sliding their food order down the bar to a runner before making your way to this mystery man.

You lean over the bar with a cheeky grin, pushing your cleavage together, “What can I get you? It's on the house.”

“Whiskey, a double. It ain’t good manners not to pay,” He murmurs, throwing down a couple bills.

Your interest is further piqued. What’s a southern man like him doing in a place up so north? You wonder where he’s from, what his life was like before coming to live in a city such as this one.

“Isn’t it rude to refuse good hospitality?”

He shrugs, the tiniest smile on his face, “I personally like to take my flirtin’ a little slower.”

You tilt your head, raising a brow at him, “But not your conclusion jumping? Who says I was flirting?”

“You’re not very good at being discreet about your stare, sweetheart.”

Your face grows extremely hot, and for a moment you open your mouth to give him a rebuttal but soon close it once you realize you don’t have one. Instead, you murmur something about his drink and turn away to fetch a glass and a bottle of whiskey. When you return, your pour is fast. You’d been eager to talk to him and now you couldn’t be more eager to get away.

The man leans across the bar, as he takes the drink from your hand, careful not to touch you. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be. Can I get you anything else?” The words fly out of your mouth, almost slurring together with how quickly you say them.

“You just can’t slow down, can you there, honey?” His tone isn't unkind or condescending, just observant. You find yourself growing defensive anyway.

“It's a bar, it comes with the territory.”

“So does the quick flirtin’?”

“I know what I want and I go after it. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Doesn’t give you much time to appreciate things,” He says thoughtfully.

“Right.”

“I’m interested, darlin’. I am. But let’s take our feet off the gas. I’m Joel,” He introduces himself, holding a hand out to you.

You take it, unable to look away from his warm, inviting eyes despite his hesitancy. And that was the simple, slow start of you and Joel.

Syrupy slow. Thick as molasses.

—

It takes weeks for Joel to ask you on a proper date. He’s said he was interested, and clearly was by how often he frequented the bar you work at. He’d order the same double, sit at your end of the bar, and then the two of you would chat between patrons. He’s charming and hilarious, and so godly fucking slow at dating. If it wasn’t endearing, if he wasn’t so handsome you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It’s nearing the end of the third week you two have done this but it’s Friday, and tonight Joel stays until your shift is over so he can walk you to your car. He even helps you clean once all the other patrons are out, wiping down the bar for you as you finish loading glasses in the dishwasher.

The summer air is a little chilly once you two exit the bar, and Joel notices the way you shiver in your tiny little top— the one that shows cleavage that he tries to be conscious of, that he tries not to look at. He’s successful…most of the time.

“S’a little dusty, but here,” He murmurs, shrugging out of the jacket he’s wearing, gently draping it around your shoulder.

It’s shit like this that keeps your heart so tender for a man you haven’t even held hands with. You’ve wondered if it’s just his southern charm, or if someone before you had hurt him and made him more mindful of the way he pursues women.

His gesture has your heart fluttering, palms growing slick like you’re back in high school, having your first date with Nathan from second period. Sometimes you think about what your family might say about Joel. That he’s too traditional, that he probably wants you barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen, a ring on your hand. But, you don’t get that vibe from him. You think that maybe he just wants to treat you well, and maybe you finally think you deserve something like that. Even if it’s moving much slower than you would prefer.

“Thank you, Joel,” You say, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Something about Joel and his soft, slow intensity is different than anything you've ever had before. Once to your car, you start to slip out of his jacket but he shakes his head.

“Keep it, darlin’. I’ll come get it tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Wondered if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow since you're off.”

“Finally,” You huff playfully, grinning at him.

If you’re not mistaken, Joel blushes, scratching the nape of his neck. “Alright, alright, don't you start now.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. You know we could do breakfast instead— or lunch,” You suggest, feeling a little impatient. Did you really want to wait the entire day to see him?

“Dinner,” He repeats, a knowing grin on his face. “Be patient, girl.”

“Fine, fine. Dinner, I’ll just twiddle my thumbs all day.”

“We both know you’ll be runnin’ around like a chicken with its head cut off by 10 a.m.”

It feels good that he knows you. You laugh, nodding begrudgingly. He’s right— it might even be earlier than that.

“Just make sure you pace yourself on the coffee.”

“I make no promises. Goodnight, Joel.”

For the first time since your handshake, Joel touches you. He takes your hand into his, helping you into your car, and before shutting the door behind you, he presses a chaste kiss to your skin. Warmth spreads slowly through your hand, creeping up your arm and neck, into your cheeks.

“Goodnight, honey.”

—

Joel doesn’t touch you again the entire night. He’s careful when you return his jacket, careful when he’s guiding you, only letting his hand ghost behind you as you walk. It’s driving you nuts. You wore a silk dress, floral and clingy in all the right places— even wore a flower in your hair to match, and still there was nothing. Well, he had called you beautiful, so beautiful to be exact, when you answered the door.

During dinner, he told you about his daughters, Sarah and Ellie. Things sort of clicked, of course, he would want to take things slow when there are children involved. He doesn’t speak ill of Sarah’s mother when he mentions that they co-parent, explains that Ellie is sort of a stray he ended up taking in. It’s impossible to miss the way he lights up when speaking about his girls. He says that Sarah welcomed Ellie with open arms, that they’re nearly inseparable and do nothing but give him a hard time together.

You don’t say it, but you hope that one day you’ll get to meet them. With your disposition, you wouldn’t be opposed to meeting them right now. But that’s now how this works, especially not with Joel in the driver’s seat.

You respect it. You respect him. It doesn’t stop you from being a little forward when he walks you to your door.

“Do you want to come in?”

Joel gives you a shy smile, shaking his head. “You know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

You nod, pouting a little. Joel thinks it’s adorable, and wants to reach out and run a thumb over the swell of your bottom lip to push away. But he knows you, and the moment he laid his hands on you, you’d bounce on him. He’s not sure he’d be able to resist, even with his reservations.

“Well, there was no harm in me trying,” You say salaciously, raising a brow at him.

“I appreciate your eagerness, but we’re still takin’ this slow.”

“I know, I respect it, Joel. It’s just not something I’m used to.”

He doesn’t like the way you deflate a little, as if you’re feeling some sort of shame. He’d never want you to feel that way.

He takes a step forward, cupping your cheek gently, “You know there’s nothin’ wrong with taking things fast, honey. But, I think this is good for the both of us. How does it feel?”

How does it feel? When you get beyond the initial impatience, the clumsiness of not always flirting and immediately getting physical, it feels…certainly different, and maybe good. Really good. To know his interests, and intentions, his values, and pieces of his life before diving in head first. Yeah, it feels good. Because there is no making things work as they come at you— Joel is slowly showing you what you get with him, proving as time inches forward that you two fit together just fine.

You don’t have to rush into it to make him stay. He just will.

That restless energy you feel like you were born with settles as you try to formulate your answer. How could you tell him all of that without seeming like you were rushing into things feeling perfectly right?

You decide to keep it vague, feeling a little nervous for once. “It feels good. Nice. Different…not what I’m used to, but nice.”

Joel’s thumb slowly skates across your cheek, trying to soothe you. His voice is a soft gravelly hum. “Feels good for me too, sweetheart.”

He’s making your head foggy, with his gently dominant disposition. Unable to stop yourself, you lean further into his palm, enjoying the callousness here and there. His eyes don’t leave yours, as if they’re looking into you and not just at you. His presence is overwhelming, a single glance from him consuming you. You find yourself trembling slightly despite the dreadfully warm air tonight.

Joel bends slightly, his nose just an inch away from ghosting yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, alright?”

You make a soft, affirmative sound, the ability to find your voice escaping you.

It’s so slow. So Joel. It feels like the slow drip of caramelized sugar. Like a snail making its way across the pavement. Your brain slips away further there's nothing but warmth and happiness and pleasure as Joel kisses you on your porch. He presses his mouth to yours, guiding your head back with the hand that still cups your cheek. He takes your hand, bringing it up so that you mirror his actions. Once your hand is there his drops away, taking your other hand and guiding it to his chest.

He wants you to feel. To take this moment to stop time and not get lost in it, not drift away like you were before. He wants you to stay present, to savor every languid stroke of his tongue against yours.

And as if you can feel him saying that through the simple connection of lips, you become sharply aware of what the sensation of kissing Joel Miller feels like.

How his lips are as soft as they look, his tongue tasting of the dark ale he drank at dinner. How the shadow of a beard that trails his jaw tickles at your palm. How firm and solid and warm his chest feels beneath your fingertips. More than that— both of his hands now cup your face with a gentle intimacy you’ve never experienced, not even with others who have seen and touched much more of your body than he has.

Despite sinking into him and his patience, there’s a hunger inside of you that you can’t ignore. You give into your urges and instruments. It’s as if this was the calm before the storm— the storm being you, starting to clutch him closer, kiss him deeper, frantically so.

Joel chuckles into your mouth when he feels the way you start to pillage him; there’s no other word for it. Your message is as clear as his: you want more and you want it now.

“Down, girl,” He slurs into your mouth, getting a grip on your hands and gently prying them from the fabric of his flannel.

“Sorry,” You whisper, completely breathless. You take a step back towards the door, your expression apologetic. “Sometimes— most of the time, I get a little carried away. I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

“You didn’t cross a line— at least not one I don’t eventually intend to cross,” He assures you softly, taking a step forward to maintain proximity to you.

It makes butterflies flutter in your tummy even as you laugh, nodding in understanding. He was being genuine despite moving slower than molasses. He’s worth the wait. At least that confirms the worst of your worries. He’d said from the day you met he was interested but there was a silly part of you— insecure and swirly, you try not to engage with it much— that thought that maybe he was just being a gentleman. Taking pity on you, giving you the time of day to boost your confidence and spare your feelings.

“What do think about say to us doin’ this again next week, sweetheart?”

“I think…I would really like that, Joel.”

“Great. Now hold your horses and let me kiss you again.”

He does that thing again like he did last night, his voice infused with honey, low and delicious as he crowds you up against your door. The combination is threatening to make your legs give out and you brace yourself by the doorknob, looking up at him with eager eyes.

Joel kisses you breathless once more, taking both of your wrists in his grasp if only to keep you at bay, and maybe to feel soft your skin is under his palms…how you let him take the lead despite it being a new concept. The thought has his cock stirring and he pulls away, knowing that he’s pressed his luck enough with you tonight.

He raises his eyebrows, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight, Joel,” You murmur, feeling tingly all over.

You let yourself in and watch Joel walk to his car through the screendoor. And when he pulls off, he gives you a cute little wave, one that you return, warmth blooming in your chest.

Joel and his sweet southern charm, sweeping you off your feet.

joel taglist: @honeybrowne, @campingwiththecharmings, @lesbianhotch

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #arson writes #not sfw #Spotify

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tightjeansjavi · 11 months ago

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Slow Hands | Chapter 11

“a wolf in sheep’s clothing”

A/N: another emotionally charged chapter that has left me in a puddle of my own tears 😔 there’s only 2 chapters left (crazy, I know) writing this story has truly been a journey for me, and it’s bittersweet knowing that it’s ending soon. As always, thank you for reading, and thank for betaing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

~word count: 6.2k~

Summary: Angie goes missing, another letter, and two brothers letting the past go.

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: ‼️DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping of a minor character, minor character death, talk of suicide, anxiety/PTSD episode, angst, grief, guilt, emotionally charged conversations, protective!joel, Tommy is a girl dad in this universe (not canon but I hope it becomes canon) no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

A wolf in sheep’s clothing: someone who hides malicious intent under the guise of kindliness

They moved like cloaked shadows in the night. Swift, sure-footed, silent. Cody couldn’t let him down. And with Joel’s blood still crusted underneath his fingernails, and spattered on his shirt, he led the way to Angie’s quiet home.

She put up a valiant fight, nails acting as claws swiping through the air. She didn’t want to die, not yet, not now. Please, just one more day.

Her nails made contact with his cheek, slicing through the skin, drawing blood to the surface. Her screams died in her throat when his ready fist made contact with her fragile face. Out cold. Still.

Cody is messy, always has been. It’s a detrimental price to pay, but he can’t let him down.

Her door is left ajar. Sticking out like a sore thumb come morning.

When she awakes, her head throbs, it pulses. Her eyes blink, stinging with pain as she becomes conscious of her new surroundings.

The woods.

Two men are arguing as she struggles to move, only to find that her wrists and ankles have been bound together with rope that has been tied so tightly, it bites into her skin.

“You’re a fuckin’ fool, Cody!” The man yells, striking Cody across the face.

He’s an abuser. He’s been one since the end of the world. Maybe even longer, but he can’t seem to remember the moment he chose the path to abuse. To harm. To kill. It doesn’t matter, he has no means to atone himself.

“A goddamn, trigger-happy, fool!” He hits him again, shoving Cody against a nearby tree. “Do you have any fuckin’ idea the risks you’ve just put out on the line?! Huh! Do you?! I asked you to do one fuckin’ thing! One goddamn fuckin’ thing! You’ve always been messy, Cody. Fuckin’ never cleanin’ up after yourself!” He yells in his face, and Angie’s blood runs cold.

She knows that voice.

She knows.

“I thought—I thought you would be proud of me!” Cody shoves back, body switching to defense mode in an instant. “I TOOK DOWN THE FUCKIN’ MOOSE!”

The other man sneered, shaking his head, and laughed. It's a bone chilling laugh. Cruel. Unkind. Sadistic.

“You fuckin’ moron. You didn’t kill him.” He scoffs.

“That old fuck is dead. I killed him!” He insists.

“Killed him? No. Wounded him? Sure. It takes a hell of a lot more to take down a moose than just kicking him in the fuckin’ head!” The other man places his hands on his hips, his tone is nothing short of condescending. “What do you think is going to happen when he wakes up, Cody? He’s gonna come straight for you.” He jabbed at his chest.

“He’s dead. I killed him. I killed Joel Miller.” Cody’s voice wavers the more he thinks back to the moment his boot connected with Joel’s face. Was he dead? He appeared to be. He must be. He has to be.

“Ah. Are your actions catching up to you? Are you beginnin’ to realize that you have managed to jeopardize everythin?’” The other man scoffs before his attention is drawn to Angie.

“You were supposed to bring her to me. You were supposed to bring her home, where she belongs. I asked you to do one fuckin’ thing, Cody. And you failed. You failed me.” He tsks, tongue in cheek. He crouches down in front of Angie’s trembling frame. She tries to escape, but there’s nowhere for her to run. She’s ensnared, and running out of time. The backside of his hand strokes against her cheekbone with a horrid softness that is anything but soft.

“Instead, you bring me this pathetic excuse of a life. Angie, isn’t it? What a doll. I really enjoyed your cookin’, sweetheart. I think I’ll miss that the most.” He chuckles, leaning in as his nose brushes through tendrils of her hair. “I could..keep you alive.” He whispers as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I could..but then that wouldn’t teach Cody a lesson, now would it?”

“Please—please. I—I—don’t want to die. You don’t..have to kill me.” She pleads, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t.” He agrees. “I don’t have to kill you, Angie. I could keep you as my own. You could replace her, and the constant hole I feel in my pathetic heart after she left me. “I was so good to her, Angie. So good..and she left.” He sighed almost as if he was feeling a moment of empathy for what he was about to do.

“I—I could replace her. I could. Please. I would never leave you. You don’t have to kill me. I’ll stay with you. I’ll—I’ll love you the way that she couldn’t.” Angie begs, and this is his favorite part. The moment where his victim begins to believe that he’ll spare them, that he’s not really a monster. That they’ll live to see another day.

“Oh, Angie, you haven’t really been payin’ attention at all, have you?” He sneers. “You’ll never replace her. You stupid fuckin’ bitch.” He spits, and a glob of saliva lands on her trembling cheek.

He looks over his shoulder at Cody just as a flash of lightning strikes above and illuminates his face in bright light. He faces her once more, fingers brushing across her face. He’s gone in for the kill, like a snake attacking in the grass.

She pleads for her life one more time. Hoping, begging..until it’s over.

He snaps her neck swiftly, in a blink of an eye as her body falls to the ground with a sickening thud. A single tear rolls down her cheek, landing in the dirt below. Her eyes are unmoving, body twitching, and then going still. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt her now.

She’s disregarded like trash on the street, nothing more than a sack of flesh in his eyes.

Raindrops begin to steadily fall as he stands above her body looking down at it with disgust. “Get the fuck back to Jackson, and bring her to me.” It’s a threat, and Cody knows what his fate will be if he returns without you.

When 20 minutes turned into an hour, that’s when the fear began to trickle in and fester like an open untreated wound. Ellie hadn’t returned, and there was no sign of Joel. You were alone and beginning to imagine the worst possible scenarios in your head. Ellie told you to stay inside, keep the doors locked, but that prodding voice inside of your head was growing louder, and louder. You could only tune its harshness out for so long before you would inevitably snap.

Ellie isn’t coming back.

She’s out there all alone, and you’re gonna continue to be a sitting duck?

Joel’s dead, I bet. He’s dead, and it’s probably all your fault. How’s that make you feel inside, Beanie? You killed them. You killed them both.

You had picked the skin around your cuticles to the point where they were raw and bleeding. Joel and Ellie were okay. Nothing bad happened to them. That voice inside of your head wasn’t true. None of it was true. It couldn’t be.

Ellie said she’d be back. She’s okay. Nothing happened to her. She found Joel and they’re on their way back now.

I didn’t kill them.

They’re alive.

Are you sure? Let’s face it, something happened to them both. The two people that you love the most in this world are dead and it’s all your fault.

Your fault.

Your—

“I DIDN’T KILL THEM!” You yelled suddenly as your emotions bubbled over.

It felt like every wall in Joel’s home was beginning to close in on you as if you were an unsuspecting bug that was about to be crushed under the weight of a shoe.

It felt like all the air in your lungs had been snatched, and you were suffocating, clawing for air.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling out back onto the porch, hunched over, heaving with tears streaming down your cheeks. The voice inside of your head only seemed to grow louder and louder as images of Joel and Ellie laying in a pool of their own blood flashed cruelly in your mind. You blinked, and blinked, and blinked, but the picture was as clear as day, and it wasn’t going away.

You don’t remember how you ended up in Joel’s shed surrounded by the comforting aroma of sawdust, pine, and Joel. He cloaked your senses like a warm hug, or a hot cup of tea with honey soothing your throat. You collapsed into his chair, hugging yourself for dear life, and then, the voice was silent and you were still, frozen on the spot, numbed.

What the fuck am I supposed to tell Beanie?

Hey, so I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but Joel got his ass handed to him, and he’s beat up pretty bad.

When I found him..I thought he was dead.

But don’t worry, he’s not gonna die! He’s fine. Joel is fine.

Ellie’s footsteps were trailing a good foot behind Jesse’s and Liam’s. The weight of her own gun felt heavy in her palm. Rain had steadily begun to fall and soaked the dry earth beneath her worn down converse. Tears began to blur her vision when images of Joel lying in a pool of his own blood attacked her mind.

“El?” It was Jesse. “Y’okay?” He had slowed his footsteps so she could catch up. And when she was close enough, he reached his hand out and gently squeezed her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m fine, Jesse.” She went to brush his hand off her shoulder but refrained because she knew he was just trying to comfort her.

“Are you sure? Tommy didn’t really tell Liam and I what happened but—”

“What did he tell you?”

Jesse paused and let out a sigh. His eyes met hers in a brief stare. “Somethin’ along the lines of Joel getting the shit beat out of him in public. He didn’t say by whom.”

I know who the fuck did it.

“Yeah. Some fucking cowards probably jumped him.” Yeah, some cowards alright.

“He’ll be alright though, right?”

“Joel is as stubborn as a mule, Jesse. He’s going to be fine.”

Jesse nodded and took a step back to give her some space. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

When they reached the front steps to Joel’s home, Ellie was nudged out of the way when she reached for the door handle. Liam muttered under his breath about it being some standard protocol to which she scoffed under her breath, withdrew her gun and shoulder checked him for good measure.

Ellie’s blood ran cold when she did not immediately find you on the couch in the same spot that she left you.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath, finger hovering over the trigger.

“Ellie? What’s wrong?” Jesse came up beside her, his own gun drawn at his side.

“I left Beanie right here, Jesse. Right here on the fucking couch!”

If anything happens to her, Joel will never forgive me. Never.

“You’re sure you left her on the couch, Ellie?” Liam interjected, pushing past both of them.

“You think I’d fuckin’ lie about that? I left her on the couch.” She snapped back. “I told her to stay here and keep the doors locked.”

“I’ll check upstairs. Liam, you and Ellie check the kitchen and do not go outside without me.” Jesse said firmly. He was looking right at Liam with a stern glare.

Liam was half tempted to flip him off but refrained from doing so. It wouldn’t have been worth it in the end.

He and Ellie did a full sweep of the kitchen and lower level while Jesse went upstairs and checked every room.

The trio met back at the foot of the staircase.

“The only place we haven’t checked yet is Joel’s shed outback.” Ellie said with a huff to mask her nerves. “She wouldn’t just..up and leave for no fucking reason. Unless someone was here, or she was suspecting someone.”

“Joel’s shed? Why the hell would she go there?” Liam scoffed under his breath. “Ellie, we sweeped the whole fuckin’ house. She’s not here.”

“Fuck you, man. Don’t pick up an attitude with me. Do you have any idea what that woman means to Joel? Huh? Course you don’t. If something happened to her—”

“El, breathe.” Jesse said calmly. “We’ll do a sweep out back, okay? I’m sure she’s there. I’m sure she’s fine.” He reassured her.

Ellie inhaled a shaky breath of air and nodded her head in Jesse’s direction. Once she was regrouped enough, she took the lead and headed towards the back door with Liam and Jesse in tow.

The rain was coming down with a blinding force now and obstructed Ellie’s vision momentarily as she cautiously approached Joel’s shed. A bright flash of lightning illuminated her face before it was casted back into darkness.

Please. Please, be in there. Please be safe, Beanie.

Jesse and Liam had their guns aimed at the ready when Ellie grasped the shed door handle and pushed it open.

You were caught like a deer in headlights when Ellie, Jesse, and Liam came into view. Your hands trembled around the loose grip you had on Joel’s letter to Bill and Frank.

Ellie immediately lowered her gun to her side with a visible sigh of relief and tucked it into her hoodie pocket. “Beanie? Fuck. What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to stay inside. I—I thought something had happened to you!”

The look on your face is all Ellie needs to understand that you don’t remember.

“You don’t remember anything..do you, Beanie?” Her tone is soft compared to the way that her heart is beating out of her chest.

You shake your head and bite down harshly on your lower lip as you look between Ellie, and the two men beside her. You’ve seen Jesse around before, but Liam is unfamiliar.

“Can you guys..give us some privacy?” Ellie speaks quietly to Jesse and Liam.

“Holler if you need us. Okay, El? We’ll be outside.”

“It’s fuckin’ raining. We’re gonna get—” Liam’s bitching is cut off by Jesse forcefully grabbing his bicep and pulling him back outside into the pouring rain. He pulls the door shut behind him leaving you and Ellie in total privacy.

“Ellie..where’s Joel? What happened?” You questioned immediately and Ellie let out a deflated sigh. Her shoulders slumped in a defeated motion.

“He’s..hurt, Beanie. But Tommy’s with him. He’ll be alright. He always comes back home. Even when he’s hurt, nothing stands in his way.” Ellie’s doing her best to reassure both herself and you. She walks further into the shed and finds herself sitting along the edge of Joel’s workbench next to you.

“What happened to him, Ellie?” You look over at her, eyes glassy with tears that are threatening to spill. “How do you know for sure that he’ll..come home?”

“I don’t know exactly what happened to him. I found Tommy first, and he discovered Joel laying in the dirt outside of your home. He was covered in blood. I—I thought he was dead, but Tommy reassured me that he wasn’t.”

She rests her hands along the dust covered table and looks down at her lap. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she looks over at you. “Because..before Joel took me to the Fireflies base, there was a time where I thought he was gonna die on me. I remember bein’ so afraid of losin’ him. I didn’t know what the fuck I was gonna do without him.”

She swallows hard and blinks back her own tears. “He tried to push me away. Told me to go back to Tommy’s and leave him to die. I refused. So, I did everything I could to help him get better. His wound was infected and I knew he needed medicine fast. I risked my life for him not knowin’ if he would make it.”

You reach for her hand and entwine your fingers just as her tears begin to fall. “Somethin’ terrible..happened to me after I got Joel the medicine he needed. And I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him again, truthfully.” She sniffled and squeezed your hand gently.

“I remember stumbling outside in the snow covered in blood, and he was there. I thought he was a ghost, Beanie. But he was there, and he was holding me.”

“Ellie..” you trailed off.

Your teary eyed gazes met as the rain pelted down along the roof of the shed.

“Do you need a hug, kiddo?” You asked softly. Ellie was like the daughter you never had, and like Joel, you’d put your life out on the line to keep her safe. It’s what empaths do. They put others feelings above their own. And right now, Ellie needs you.

“Yes.” She murmured. “I need that more than ever right now.”

You set the letter down off to the side and stand up just as Ellie slips down from where she’s sitting on the edge of the table. You gather her up into your arms and hold her tight. You didn’t need the full story to understand what happened to her before Joel brought her to the Fireflies. “It’s okay. I understand. I’m here for you, El.”

She wrapped her arms around you with her tears soaking into your shirt while you rubbed soothing circles into her back with your freehand cupping the back of her head, cradling it gently.

You held each other like this as the storm outside roared on. Ellie was the one to ultimately pull away from the hug and quickly wiped at her eyes.

“Thank you.” She whispered, “I really needed that.”

“Of course, El. I’m always here for you.”

“What’s this?” She gestured to the letter resting along the table and reached for it.

“It’s another one of Joel’s letters.”

“Joel’s been..writing letters? To whom?” She picked it up gently.

“To those he loves most.” You said softly.

“Can we..read it together?”

You nod and pull the chair up closer while Ellie begins to read the letter out loud.

Bill and Frank,

By now I’m sure you realized that I found your letter. I know that you and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I did consider you a friend. Someone who I respected, trusted, and in a way, admired. I never got the chance to tell you just how much I respected you, Bill. I think back to the first time we met, where yours and mine clicked instantly. I don’t think I ever saw Tess smile as much as she did that day. You and I were both pretty pissed off about it, huh? But hey, whatever makes those we love happy, right?

You were one hell of a man, and I’m honored that I had the pleasure of knowing you, even if the time was cut short.

So, I’m gonna tell you something because I know that you’ll understand.

I found two people in this shit-hole world that mean somethin’ to me. I lost a daughter, but I gained another. She was just cargo to transport to the Fireflies, but as much as I saved her, she saved me. Her name is Ellie, and I think you woulda loved this kid. I pushed away feeling anything for so fuckin’ long, and then she came into my life and showed me that I still have a heart. Her and I? We’ve been through hell, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my kid safe.

And then, I fell in love with this woman who has a heart of gold and a kindness that I never thought I’d feel again. She reminds me of Frank. Artistic, soft-spoken, and this breath of fresh air that can melt even coldest of hearts. Her name is Beanie, like coffee beans. She and I actually briefly knew one another in Austin. She owned this coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles and every-time I’d come in with Sarah, she’d put a stupid little smiley face on my morning latte. Well, we met again…and I fuckin’ love her silly little latte art. She’s my person, Bill. And even though I feel I am undeserving to love someone as beautiful as her, I’m so fucking grateful. This is all to say you’re right. You and I do have a purpose in this world, and that is to protect the ones we love. To keep them safe. And god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way, right?

Godspeed.

-Joel

By the end of the letter you and Ellie are both feeling new waves of emotions. Joel Miller loves you, and you’ve known it for a while now, but to see it on paper? Well, there’s really no feeling to describe it. To love and to be loved, is one of life’s greatest treasures.

“Did you ever get to meet Bill and Frank?”

“No, but I do know for a fact that Bill was a fuckin’ badass. He had a whole wall of guns in his house!” She couldn’t help but giggle at the memory of Joel grumpily telling her no when she implied on taking one of the guns for herself. Dude. There’s a wall of them.

You could picture Joel’s face now, and it too made you giggle because oftentimes he was rather grumpy over just about anything.

“Oh my god, you shoulda see how much of a mean motherfucker Joel was when I first met him!” She’s truly reminiscing now and there’s that childlike wonder to her again. All giggles, cheeks stained with tears, but she’s smiling a big toothy grin.

“Why don’t you tell me all about the first time you met Joel?”

And so she does, starting with the first interaction where Joel basically threw her into a wall in front of Marlene and Tess.

Well, I guess that’s what I got for spookin’ him. Shit really fuckin’ hurt, but I’m glad he and Tess showed up when they did. Who knows, maybe you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if they hadn’t.

I’m really glad Joel and Tess showed up when they did too.

“Hey, Beanie?” Ellie suddenly asks as the rain is beginning to lighten up for a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Did you grow up listening to Linda Rondstadt?”

“I did.”

“What was your favorite song? If you had to pick one?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one, El. Long Long Time.”

She just smiles.

“Tommy..” Joel croaks, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Joel’s eyes are barely open and his face is visibly swollen and puffy. But he’s alive, he’s breathing, and that’s all Tommy can really focus on.

“Joel? Hey, how we feelin?’”

Joel cracks a smile, a painful one that has him wincing from the minimal movement. “Like I jus’ got hit by a fuckin’ bus.” He attempts to joke, but it falls flat when he realizes that Tommy is holding the letter.

“Yeah, well, y’look like dogshit, Joel. Doc said—”

“Don’t give a fuck what Doc said, Tommy.” He doesn’t mean to be short, not really, he’s just in a lot of pain.

Tommy falls silent. His eyes cast downwards and focus on the words written in the letter. The fluorescent light catches Tommy’s face at just the right angle for Joel to see the dried tears along his cheekbones.

“Tommy..I—I saw Sarah.” Joel’s voice cracks as the two brothers briefly make eye contact.

“Whad’ya mean you saw her, Joel?”

“She came to me in my dreams. She had daisies in her hair..She looked so beautiful. My baby girl.”

Tommy rests the letter along his lap and reaches for Joel’s hand. He gives it a firm, yet reassuring squeeze. His freehand immediately rises and he quickly wipes away fresh tears that have begun to fall. “She was so beautiful, Joel.”

There’s a moment's silence sans Joel’s labored breaths, and Tommy’s sniffles that fill the stagnant, all-too clean air.

“I thought..you were dead, Joel. All I saw was you layin’ in the dirt. Not movin.’ Covered in blood, and all I could think—And then I saw the gun, and for a minute I thought that maybe—” he takes a shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. “But then I couldn’t find the entry wound, and I felt so relieved. So fuckin’ relieved.”

“Tommy, after all these years? After proving to you that I’d do anything to keep us alive? Why would your first thought be that I finished myself? Ellie needs me. I’d never do that to her or to you. Why would I cross the country to find you to only then shoot myself?” Joel doesn’t mean to be so harsh with his words, but despite all the years that have gone by, that guilt lives freely on his conscience. It’s plaguing, and reminds him of a scab that never quite properly heals because he’s picked it over so many times. It’s hammered into his skull with a rusted nail.

“Killin’ yourself ain’t gonna bring Sarah back, Joel. Its fuckin’ selfish that you—”

Selfish.

A man loses his only daughter in a brutal way, and he’s got nothing to live for. No path guiding him. No light at the end of the tunnel. No hope. Nothing. It was ripped from him the same way the rain of bullets ripped through her body.

“I have everythin’ to live for now, Tommy.”

It hits Tommy like a freight train at maximum speed. It thrashes like a fish breached on land, depleted of oxygen, slowly dying, baking in the sun. His feelings bubble over, and he doesn’t try to hold them at bay.

“Because the day you tried to kill yourself still haunts me. I couldn’t think rationally in the moment because I was brought right back to Texas. Right back to your home. Right back to the second I heard the gunshot and your body hittin’ the fuckin’ floor.” Tommy whispers the last part as tears blur his vision.

Joel reaches for his hand, knuckles bruised and crusted in blood and dirt. His body aches all over, but he pushes through the pain and grabs Tommy’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I ain’t fuckin’ goin’ anywhere, Tommy.” His words are firm and hold true.

Tommy can only nod as he glances down at the letter once more. More tears have begun to flood the paper and blur Joel’s penmanship, but even though ink isn’t permanent, the words read like a script in his brain.

“When..did you write this letter?” Tommy finally asks.

“Shortly after I wrote the letter to Tess and after what happened at the Tipsy Bison.”

“And you meant every word in this?..”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re right. I did grow resentful. I couldn’t understand why you thought that..killin’ yourself was the only option. As if somehow that would bring Sarah back. I did think you were being selfish, and that was wrong of me. I know that hurt you more than you’re willin’ to admit. And I’m sorry, Joel. For all of it.”

“Y’gotta understand that I did think that it was the only option I had. I fuckin’ lost my daughter. She died in my arms. I was a shell of a man, and you—“ he took a deep breath as his tears began to freely fall. “Y’made me feel so guilty after. So fuckin’ guilty. The guilt consumed me. I knew that you weren’t sleepin’ much after that. Always thinkin’ that I’d attempt it again. Always on edge because of me.”

“It felt like we were walkin’ on eggshells around each other for years. There were so many times that I wanted to bring it up and apologize, but fuck, as if we had any time for that, right? Tess and I..we talked about it once, in private. She told me I should jus’ rip the bandaid off, but I never did.” Tommy admitted.

“Yeah, and then you left me for the fuckin’ Fireflies after everythin’ I did to keep you safe. To keep you alive, you left. Always wanted to be the fuckin’ hero. Didn’t matter what I said, you weren’t gonna listen.” Joel snapped.

“I jus’ wanted to try and make a difference in the shitty world that we live in! To erase injustice and make up for all the shit we did. All the people we murdered. I didn’t want to live with—”

“Didn’t want to live with knowin’ that there’s blood on your hands, Tommy? Those things we did? We did them to survive. It was either them or us. I have my regrets too, y’know.”

“We killed innocent people, Joel.” Tommy said somberly.

“Why did you cut fuckin’ communication with me? Huh? What was the reason? I’m your fuckin’ family. Your flesh and blood. And while you were livin’ all cushy with your new wife, bacon, and a warm fuckin’ bed, I was scared shitless that my brother was dead.”

“if I tell you the truth, you’re going to hate me.”

“I’m your brother, Tommy. I could never hate you. Jus’ tell me the reason. I don’t want a bullshit excuse. I want the fuckin’ truth.”

“Maria had some influence on my decision. She reassured me that cutting communication off with you would maybe be for the best. It was selfish of me, Joel. I just never expected—”

“Me to come fuckin’ lookin’ for you? Nothin’ was gonna get in my way of findin’ you, Tommy.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ at the time. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Look, it was gettin’ to the point that everytime we’d talk, the conversation was always just so fuckin’ negative. That shit started to really eat away at me. Maria started to notice how it was affectin’ me, and she suggested that maybe...I was holdin’ on too much. At the time it felt right to cut contact off with you.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Tommy, the world fuckin’ ended. What the hell was I supposed to be positive about, huh? Christ! The only positive thing in my life outside of Tess was knowin’ that you were alive! And then you took that from me too. I swear, that woman had rose colored glasses on the second she fuckin’ met you.” He snapped.

Tommy could already feel himself recoiling from his brother's words, and that utter feeling of shame came trickling in and knocking at the door. “I know I took that from you, Joel. I swear it wasn’t done outta malice.”

“No. You just wanted to move on with your life and I was holdin’ you back. The second you met Maria, fell in love, and got everythin’ you ever wanted, you pushed me away. Your own goddamn brother.”

“And I feel fuckin’ shameful for my decisions! The second you fuckin’ showed up here outta the blue, I felt that shame. I’m sorry..for all of it. But I’m tired of feelin’ this way, ain’t you?”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ tired of feelin’ this way, Tommy. Half the time I don’t even feel like I belong in this community. That I’m always gonna be an outsider. And I think your wife is partially to blame. I respect Maria, I really do. But she ain’t have any rose colored glasses on when it comes to me. I think that’s the most frustratin’ bit. Is that your wife judges me for the things I did to keep us alive, yet she refuses to acknowledge all the fucked up shit, and all the people you killed, Tommy.”

“I know you and Maria ain’t ever seen eye to eye. I don’t agree with the way she’s treated you either. She and I have talked about it. I’ve brought up how she treats you differently. I jus’ haven’t gotten through to her yet, but I’m workin’ on it. I can’t make her change her mind about you, but what I can do is defend you, tooth and fuckin’ nail. Jus’ like how I shoulda after the altercation at the Tipsy Bison.”

“I jus’ want you to feel…proud to be my brother again, Tommy. I don’t wanna keep walkin’ on eggshells and feelin’ like I ain��t belong in my own family. I love you so much, and I jus’—I want us to be okay. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I don’t wanna feel this resentment and guilt all the fuckin’ time. That’s why I’ve been writin’ these letters.. They’re healin’ me. They’re helpin’ me forgive.”

“Fuck.” Tommy sniffles. “You think I ain’t proud to be your brother, Joel? You’re still my fuckin’ hero, and you’re my fuckin’ family. My flesh and blood. I love you so much, and I’m sorry for hurtin’ you. I’m sorry for pushin’ you away. I’m sorry for bein’ selfish. For holdin’ so much resentment against you and the things we’ve done. I want us to be okay. I want us to be brothers again.”

“And I forgive you, Tommy. I’m sorry too. ‘M sorry for puttin’ you through hell. Shoulda apologized a long time ago.”

“We both should have. I never thought I would have the opportunity. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“You and me both.”

“Is..that why you ain’t really open to bein’ in Willow’s life? I try’n not bring her up because I know you’re still mournin, but it hurts that my brother doesn’t want to be involved in my daughter’s life.”

“Jealousy is a bitch, Tommy.” Joel said with a sigh. “Y’get to be a father to a little girl, and I lost mine. It ain’t right to you, or your daughter, but the grief still stings.”

“But Joel, you are a father. You might not be Ellie’s blood, but you’re her dad. I understand that you’re still grieving. Hell, I am too, but I want you to be in Willow’s life. I want you to be my daughter’s godfather..”

“..you want me to be her godfather? Tommy, I’d-I’d be honored.”

“Of course I do. I want that more than anythin.’”

“I wanna hug you, but everythin’ fuckin’ hurts.” Joel forces a laugh past his cracked lips. It comes out hoarse, rough around the edges.

Tommy hugs him anyway. It’s a gentle yet grounding caress and when the two brothers part, Joel knows he has to tell Tommy what really happened.

“Tommy.” He starts. His jaw ticks, nostrils flare. “It was Cody.”

Tommy’s blood runs cold. His fists clench, and his brows furrow. “What’re you talkin’ about, Joel?”

“Cody. He was outside of Beanie’s house. I saw him and immediately grew suspicious. He wasn’t alone. There were two other patrol guys with him. Alex and Oliver. There’s a whole fuckin’ pack of them. Cody and I got into it..he knocked me out.”

“They were lookin’ for Beanie?”

“Yes. But we ain’t have no tellin’ on how many of them there really are.” Joel gruffly said.

“Well, there’s four that we know of, right?” There was no time for Tommy to mourn this realization. Men that he trusted were just a bunch of wolves in sheeps clothing. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Pungent. Betrayal. Anger.

“Tommy, we can’t lose focus, alright? We gotta bring these fuckers to justice. You and me. You want your daughter growin’ up in a world where sick fucks get away with shit undetected? You wanna be a hero, right? You wanna make sure your baby girl grows up only knowin’ love and safety. Cody thought he could bring down a moose, but he’s in for a fuckin’ surprise. I say we pump ‘em full of lead.” For good fuckin’ measure.

“I’ll be damned if I let her grow up in a world livin’ in fear with men who would jump at the opportunity to hurt her. We need to alert Maria immediately. I wanna do more than just pump ‘em full of lead. I wanna make them fuckin’ suffer.”

Ah. There he is, there’s the Tommy that I know.

Joel was already getting ready to swing his legs over the side of the bed when a very exasperated Jesse appeared outside the door. His cheeks were flushed, and it looked like he was barely holding it together.

“Jesse? What’re you doin’ here? Did Ellie make it home safe?” Tommy asked as he stood up from Joel’s bedside in a haste.

“She’s fine. Liam and I walked her home and then we found Beanie.”

“Found Beanie? What the hell does that mean, Jesse? Y’better start talkin’ or so help me–” Joel was cut off swiftly.

“She’s okay, Joel. Ellie and Beanie are fine. But Tommy, Maria is lookin’ for you. Angie’s missing. She didn’t show up to her breakfast shift, and it looks like someone broke into her home. We suspect that foul play was involved, and Maria is calling for an emergency council meeting.”

Tommy and Joel slowly looked over at one another. Angie was missing. Jackson was no longer safe, and it was up to the two brothers to protect the community, and those they loved most. Tommy nodded in understanding, and it was as if he was reading Joel’s mind in real time.

“Looks like we got a meetin’ to get to.”

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