#but its fun and someone on here will appreciate it so <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[catboythanatos]

oh i just realized i never posted my stobotnik collages here ???

they took over my brain and my journal

created by me ♡ with scissors and a glue stick in my two hands and yaoi on my brain. using various magazines, ft some stickers from the dollar store, & the black n white images r printed from a thermal label printer !

the last one isnt technically stobotnik but the vibes are related i think so it gets to be included in the spread

[n0vazsq]

Chivalry is dead | Alexandra Saint Mleux x Reader

pairing . . . alexandra saint mleux x leclerc!reader

summary . . . Everybody thought Alex was dating your older brother Charles, and that you were dating your own person. But when a photo of you two kissing at Jimmy'z got leaked, everything changed

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! THIS WAS WHEN ALEX HAD HER INSTA AS PRIVATE !!!!

faceclaim . . . various girls from pinterest!

alexavia yaps . . . WOOHOO GIRLY LOVE!!!!!!! anyway i <3 alex shes so pretty so yes!! first time im writing for a wag which is so excting omg!! timeline doesn't make sense so ignore that! legit took me like 4 days to finish idk why AND ITS KINDA CRNGE AND SHITTY ASL but lets focus on it being published <3

yourusername has posted two new stories !

caption 1: i wish i knew what was so interesting // caption 2: dinner with my girl 🤍

click to view all messages

username1 gorgeous girls omg

username2 my girl?? i see you y/n 👀

username3 alex abandoning charles to go with you lmao

username4 i wish i was a wag

username5 so prettyyyyy

alexandrasaintmleux i had so much fun mon ange 🤍

yourusername everything is fun with you mia bella ragazza 🤍🤍

username7 my GOD youre stunning

username8 replying to this in hope of y/n seeing my dm

username9 holy shit you two look like goddess'

charles_leclerc stealing my girlfriend now?

yourusername hilarious

charles_leclerc just joking, you two look stunning

yourusername thanks charlie

username10 my oh my i dropped dead

username11 where's the dress from?

username12 my dream in life is to be famous and post shit like this

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 732 others

alexandrasaintmleux someone partied too hard and missed breakfast Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

friend1 let me guess, she slept until the afternoon?

yourusername you know i can read????

alexandrasaintmleux surprisingly, she woke up just a bit after 12

yourusername i'm literally right here

friend1 well that's an improvement!

yourusername guys??

alexandrasaintmleux it is!

yourusername fuck it i hate you

alexandrasaintmleux the problem is you don't

yourusername FINALLY

yourusername and i don't that's true 😔

username13 the prettiest! Liked by creator

username14 man i wish i was alex

francisca.cgomes how was date night??

alexandrasaintmleux soo beautiful

francisca.cgomes make sure to tell me about everything

francisca.cgomes you too yourusername !

yourusername will do, kika, will do

francisca.cgomes i can't wait for you two to go public so i can post all the cute pictures i have

alexandrasaintmleux i don't think that will be soon

francisca.cgomes you never know, maybe y/n will start making out with you in the paddock after getting sick of the people staring at you

yourusername ...

yourusername okay i won't go THAT far but i might kiss her just a tiny bit

alexandrasaintmleux mon ange....

yourusername love youuu

alexandrasaintmleux love you too

charles_leclerc this account is private right?

alexandrasaintmleux yes! it's only for friends and people who know about us

yourusername don't worry charlie we made sure nothing could go wrong

charles_leclerc just wanted to make sure my little sister and sister-in-law are safe and comfortable

yourusername awwww my heart 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux thank you charles! we appreciate it 🫶

yourusername how can someone be so gorgeous and beautiful and pretty and stunning and ethreal and breathtaking and lovely and elegant and radiant and exquisite and graceful and divine and hot and angelic and delicate and enchanting and serene and mesmirizing and captivating and eye catching and jaw dropping and show stopping???

alexandrasaintmleux by using some of your beauty

yourusername MY beauty? comapred to me you're an angel who graced this earth to fill my life with love and heavenly moments

alexandrasaintmleux have i ever told you how much i love you?

yourusername why don't you show me instead?

alexandrasaintmleux coming to the bedroom right now

francisca.cgomes why cant pierregasly be like this?

pierregasly i can't keep with y/n she's more down bad every day i see her

iamrebeccad if carlos was like this i wouldn't be hanging out with y/n and alex as much

francisca.cgomes same with me

carlossainz55 ???

pierregasly ???

yourusername pierre and carlos can fuck off this is a GIRL only place

charles_leclerc and me?

yourusername you too

charles_leclerc this is what i get for being a loving brother and pretending to date your girlfriend so the media doesn't pry on your life and harass you two

yourusername the phrasing is making me sound like an ungrateful brat

charles_leclerc because you are?

yourusername i'm telling maman we'll see if she likes this

charles_leclerc ...

yourusername go get a girlfriend buddy we need more girls for our hangouts

charles_leclerc what have i done to deserve this?

yourusername you crashed niki lauda's ferrari

charles_leclerc DON'T go there

charles_leclerc it was break failure and you know it

yourusername sure, charlie, sure

alexandrasaintmleux y/n please leave charles alone he might cry

yourusername of course mia bella ragazza 🤍

charles_leclerc alex????

yourusername fuck off

charles_leclerc sigh

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 852K others

yourusername out with mia bella ragazza 🤍

click to view all comments

username15 EH?????

username16 at least its not a man guys

username17 EXACTLY

username18 Y/N SOFT LAUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username19 im never shutting about this for like another 6 weeks

username20 MY WIFEE IS NOT SINGLE????

username21 stop why is alex in the reflection of the second pic

username22 dont fuel my expectations

username23 MEOW

username24 y/n pls check your dms

username25 bros tryna rizz THE y/n leclerc

username26 the audcaity to say this in a soft launch post HELP

username27 i need to know who shes posting about

username28 oh to be in a relationship with her

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl

yourusername its all you bella

alexandrasaintmleux you flatter me

yourusername its not flattery if its true

alexandrasaintmleux im blushing right now stop

yourusername anything for you bella 🫶

username29 lowkey why do they sound like theyre flirting???

username30 i have a theory that theyre dating but covering it by 'dating' other ppl

charles_leclerc looking beautiful

yourusername thank you charlie 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux she always looks beautiful!

username31 ALEX!?!??!?!

username32 MISS.

username33 not alex flirting with her boyfriend's sister INFRONT of him

username34 who ever shes dating is living the dream lifeee

username35 she better hard launch soon or im suing

username36 sigh i wish i was her

username37 call me delusional but shes dating lando

username38 noo i see it

username39 WAIT STOP THATS??

username40 y/n literally wrote MIA BELLA RAGAZZA WHICH IS ITALIAN FOR MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLLLLL

username37 jeez calm down

username41 MOTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

username42 woah

username43 can she like marry me idk

username44 can't wait to see her in the paddock again omggg

username45 STOP alex uploaded a story where she was in a restaurant too

username46 theres a lot of similar restaurants in monaco its probably her with charles

username47 sigh i want to be as pretty as her

username48 STUNNING.

username49 ate up everyone frrrr

username50 ALEX BAG HER UPPPP

username51 she better before we do

username52 frr omg

username53 the leclerc sibling fight over alex

username54 when i sleep i see her in my dreams

username55 MY GOOOD IM COMBUSTIG SHES GORGEOUSSSSSSSSSS

username56 mothered up so hard the earth cracked

username57 shes my kind of woman

username58 id let her hit me with charles' car

username59 real

username60 queen

f1_wags_exposed

liked by wag_gossip, f1spilled, username61 and 142K others

f1_wags_exposed a recent tweet went viral because of a picture containing CHARLES LECLERC'S girlfriend, ALEXANDRA SAINT MLEUX, kissing his younger sister Y/N LECLERC at Jimmy'z Monte Carlo following Leclerc's Monaco Grand Prix win Tagged: yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

click to view all comments

username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 oh!

username63 they haven't commented on this yet???

username64 why should they do

username65 it'll only fuel the rumors

username66 so will staying quiet

username67 WHAR?????????????????

username68 tagging them is BRUTAL

username69 wrong timing but face card never declined for all three of them

username70 and never will

username71 this was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

username72 if i had a penny for every time a leclerc got with alexandra id have 2 pennies which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened twice

username73 y/n x alex we need it

username74 the otp fr

username75 HELL YES LETS GO WE GOT YURI

username76 WHERE ARE THEYYYYYY I NEED THEM TO SPEAK ABT THISS

username77 was full on expecting y/n to comment on this

username78 ME TOO like her ass would say 'girl what' or sum

username79 FRRR

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'summer love triangle teenage drama series'

username84 OKAY BRO BYE IM LEAVING THIS EARTH THATS SO TRUE

username85 legit the summer i turned pretty (i didnt watch it)

username86 AND the kissing booth (didnt watch this either)

username87 this is fake i REFUSe to believe this

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN. WHY CANT THIS HAPPEN TO ME

username89 hottest love triangle i cant

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 gang if its a love triangle then theres incest

username93 this is the kind of romance ppl write books about

username94 STOP NOT THEM GOING RADIO SILENCE HELP ME

username95 if charles and alex break up then its true

username96 no bc i feel like im intruding on them rn

username97 THEYRE GORGEOUS

username98 shes everything and hes just ken

username99 idk who this is talking abt but its true for both y/n and alex

username100 charles could do so much better ew

username101 my QUEENS

username102 ok so like when do they hard launch

username103 if this turns out to be fake i will rage SO HARD

username104 i have a solution that alex and y/n get together and charles does whatever idk

username105 I DIED???

username106 i need them to go poly

username107 y/n and charles are siblings......

username108 I REMEMBER WHEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPENED LIKE IN AUS BC Y/N WAS SITTING ON ALEX'S LAP

username109 HELP WHAT???

username110 HOW DID I MISS THIS LORE???

username111 y/n made a story of her sitting on alex's lap again and was like 'and i'd do it a thousand times' then deleted it after like 2 minutes but it went viral LMFAO

username112 THIS IS SO RANDOM????

username113 leclerc-saint mleux lore goes DEEP

username114 man this shit is crazy

username115 idc whoever gets with who bc they will legit be the most gorgeous couple no matter what

username116 ALEX THE BEST WAGGGGG

username117 oh i am itching for y/n and alex hard launching with grand prix apperances

username118 when i opened insta i wasnt expecting THIS

username119 i-???? wtf do i even say

username120 i am SPEECHLESS

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 852K others

yourusername chivalry is dead so i got me a girl. mia bella ragazza, ti amo tanto 🤍🤍 Tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

click to view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux je t'aime tellement, mon ange 🤍

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

alexandrasaintmleux 🫶

username121 STOPP MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

username122 this has me sobbing and i dont even know them

username123 WHAR?????????????????

username124 idk if i expected this or not

username125 honestly same

username126 WHAT THE SHIT

username127 werent alex and charles out on a date yesterday?????

username128 MY GYATTTTTT

username129 ????

username130 sTOP

username131 im deceased

username132 GIRL WHAT???? IM SP CONFUSED RN WHATTTT

username133 LETS GO us girlies won

username134 gang go check out the y/n and alex update accs they uploaded the whole saga wtf

username135 the most gorgeous gyals

username136 if i was charles id die like my sister dating my gf????

username137 alex was winning both ways

username138 PLEASEEEEE

username139 ICONIC.

username140 IUHGBSN????????????

username141 i dont believe in love

username142 FACE CARD IS LETHAL

username143 WHAT DID I MISS????

username144 SOBBING i love them sm

username145 if glazing them every single second was a crime id be 89 feet under

username146 GOD HAS FAVOURITES !!!

username147 THE SHIT????

username148 counting down the days tilll we get y/nalex appearance in the paddock

username149 the people's princess'

username150 STOP i just realised that y/n speaks to alex in italian bc alex is italian (by nationality) and alex speaks french to y/n bc y/n is monagesque (french speaking country)

username151 the aura from them is DIABOLICAL

username152 THATS SO....?? WTF IM IN LOVE

username153 i NEED a relationship like this

username154 OMG THATS SO ROMANTIC KILL ME

username155 i died

username156 GET THESE GIRLS THOSE RINGS NOWWWWWW

username157 they need to get married ASAP

alexandrasaintmleux i love you so so so so much

yourusername forever and always

alexandrasaintmleux until the end

yourusername 🫶🫶

alexandrasaintmleux 🤍🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc my favourite sister and her girlfriend

alexandrasaintmleux thank you charles!

yourusername i'm your only sister

alexandrasaintmleux ange...

yourusername what i'm just saying the truth

alexandrasaintmleux i love you more than anything in this entire universe my angel

yourusername i love you more than you'd ever know, pretty girl

arthur_leclerc GET A ROOM

lorenzotl arthur be nice

arthur_leclerc i'm not 5

yourusername then act like it

charles_leclerc guys stop fighting

yourusername HE STARTED IT

arthur_leclerc NO???

yourusername YES???

alexandrasaintmleux now we have to wait while they sort it out

charles_leclerc which could take decades

lorenzotl seems like it

username158 FUCKING FUCK OFF

username159 ok thats it im jumpiing off a cliff

username160 ive never seen something more funny and its in a fucking instagram comment section

username161 im actually crying

username162 i love them so much i hope nothing ever happens to them

username163 my heart is paining i cant take this anymore

username164 i need to know what charles feels about y/n dating his gf

yourusername he never dated her i was dating her it was all a pr stunt so we dont get attacked by homophobes

alexandrasaintmleux this worked out better than we thought

yourusername yeah i didnt think we'd get so much love

charles_leclerc you deserve it all

yourusername thank you charlie 🫶 love youuu

charles_leclerc love you too petit lapin

username165 no i refuse bye i cant

username166 PETIT LAPIN IS SO CUTE STOP ITTTTT

username167 the a in alexandra saint mleux starts for a lovesick fool for y/n

username168 THE WAY THEY STARE AT EACH OTHERRR>>>>>

username169 how i wish for love like this

username170 greatest love story frrr

alexandrasaintmleux has made their account public & posted three new stories !

caption 1: cherry red🍒 // caption 2: y/n holding leo!! // caption 3: 🤍🤍🤍

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @iamred-iamyellow (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[precure1ove]

he makes me laugh

summary : it's their first time hearing you laugh but it's not at all what they thought it would be..

characters : silver vanrouge , sebek zigbolt

warnings : crack, fluff, reader is the prefect, reader is described as stoic, can be read as platonic or romantic

a/n : i accidentally deleted the ask for this..im so sorry :(( but this request was so fun to do!! <3

You were a stoic person, not one to regularly show emotions except for the slightest shift in your eyes whenever you find something enjoyable or distasteful.

Because of this you rarely laughed, the only sound of appreciation was from a small hum.

silver

Silver didn't mind how you did not react much if he's being honest he appreciates that part of you as it's something he can mostly relate too.

He hadn't even intended to make you laugh but apparently him becoming loopy and accidentally stepping on Grim's tail resulting in a loud girlish scream was enough to set you off.

In one of the worst ways possible.

You start by a small chuckle, seemingly innocent enough before you hunched over then threw your head back, a cackle that could shock anybody or anything followed along. it was like a curse had clawed its way out of your throat to haunt and reign terror over the land for all those who wronged you.

Silver, who was frozen in shock, with an equally terrified Grim clawing onto his pant leg, a good distance away from you in case you struck them down with lighting (reminding him of a certain gargoyle obsessed prince).

Unfortunately, he and Grim make sure to not do anything that can be considered the same amount of comical as that moment again.

Memories of Silver's childhood of a certain fae haunting him during Halloween keeps him on edge for a few days.

sebek

Sebek appreciated your stoic nature, sometimes, while you are a part of the saner portion of the school. (the same can't be said for him despite what he may think.)

He at least wants to see emotion on your face then hear another disappointed sigh again when he's being loud.So when you find him in a rather compromising position of being buried head to toe in custom made malleus merch, bowing to another custom made statue of the fae himself while singing praises.

You couldn't help but laugh.

And it was reality breaking for dear Sebek. You chuckle quietly as if to not be heard, then that was dismissed by you to bring a hand to cover your eyes as a cackle erodes from you, echoing around the dark chamber.

Now, for others, this usually meant trouble, for it meant a glorious reenactment of his beloved waka-sama. You even got the part where lighting strikes behind you ominously perfectly!

Obviously he is also scared for his life, thank lilia for that, but his loyalty and admiration for malleus shines through.

Sebek now seeks your presence more, excited to have someone who also appreciates Malleus like him.

Will you now teach him to laugh like that?

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[ping-ski]

not enough people talk about "dont turn the lights off" ngl. this song + the daycare theme song have been ON LOOP for me. on loop while i draw. on loop while i do chores and cook. on loop while i work. on loop if i need to concentrate on something- no ANYTHING. it's such a comfort to me. this song has a DEATH GRIP on me. WHIMSY UNMATCHED. you don't understand how much this song fuels me to keep creating DCA content for myself ohhh my god.

"lights on" doesn't even compare for me (WHICH OFC i like the song + with the recent release of "best friend" im still giddy)

which, i feel the need to add, this song is pivotal for my motivation to write EBY (wip dca fic im working on rn). like idk i feel invincible when this song plays ig lmao.

[nintendont2502]

spending more than a few days around your family and no one else truly does cause a certain type of madness. and baby they call me the joker

[waterfallofspace]

When H/awks gets a voice message from D/abi, he doesn't have a clue what he's getting into. (Strongly implied kink!Hawks)

First H/otwings wav~ (and content at all~). It's nothing super big, just a little idea I've had for a bit, and I had time to throw something together~ Mayyybe the fact (most of) it's a voice message can forgive the quality issues? <3

[gravegoer]

sevika, grayson and ambessa cuddling hcs 🥹🥹 i love them

Cuddling the butches -`✮´-

thank you for the ask, anon. heres some sevika , grayson , and ambessa because the last fic a while ago got a lot of love (rightfully so) <3 !!!

more of them , masterlist

Ambessa loves being the big spoon, pressed up behind you with one of her thick arms under your head, the other grabbing at your torso.

It's calming for you both when you trace over the scars on her arm under your head, leaving small kisses trailing after your fingers. She shows her appreciation by returning the favor and running her hands under your shirt to trail up your stomach.

If you grew ticklish at your touch, she would reluctantly stop, punctuating her actions with a kiss to the shell of your ear.

Sometimes, you would roll over to lay on her chest, her back now against the bed and her arm over your shoulders.

This way, she could see your face and admire your features with a smirk. Loving the way you look up at her with sleepy eyes and a smile gracing your lips.

Her chest was thick and comfortable to lay on, hearing her heavy heartbeat in your ear. This was one of your favorite sounds, and did its job at lulling you to sleep.

These were just your activities before you fell asleep, but once you do thats when the fun begins..

She was unusually hot when she slept (not just temperature wise). Sometimes, you'd have to throw the blankets off you both in the middle of the night just for some freedom.

And the fact that she is as close as possible to you doesn't help either. But on cold nights, you appreciated it, snuggling your face closer into her arms to feel the heat.

Her snores were deep and loud. That woman is always in a deep DEEP sleep. Sometimes, it woke you up, but you didn't mind. It just gave you more time to relish being in her arms.

Sevika is just a big softie, she wont admit it in words, but she loves being little spoon.

You definitely have to stretch your limbs a bit to wrap around her frame, but it's okay. it's for her. Usually, you can wrap your legs around her waist and hold her shoulders. She feels safe.

Sometimes she will turn around and put her face in your chest so that she doesnt have to face the world (just your tits).

She likes to inhale your scent and hear your heartbeat, and it makes it easier for you to stroke her hair and hum to her.

In that position she has her thick arm wrapped around your waist, holding you to the bed. (God knows she only needs one thats why she was nerfed)

She doesn't wear her mechanical arm to bed most of the time in fear of hurting you or crushing you with it.

But sometimes she will be lazy and just throw a pillow around her metal arm so that she can hold you still.

If you had a bad day, she insists you lay in her lap, face in her stomach while she smokes a cigarillo.

To add to that, have you seen her thighs? You fall asleep instantly due to comfort. And shes not complaining.

And if you are really sleepy, she will carry you around the house with one arm whilst doing her daily tasks. (Have you seen her wrangle isha with one arm?)

If she needs to step away for a second, she sits you on the counter, leaving you to huff at her absence before immediately picking you back up again.

Grayson is definitely the type of person to like the weight of someone's body on top of hers.

Just lay on her, legs on both sides of her hips and arms around her neck. She doesn't need a weighted blanket while you're sleeping over.

It's also easy to plant kisses on her neck and jaw, soothing her to sleep.

She also has a bunch of pillows, and you both wake up with them all over the floor (you might also be on the floor)

She is tossing in turning in her sleep every night. She was born this way, and if you do it too then you might be kick boxing eachother in your sleep.

Also, she will let you sit on her back while she lies on her stomach, pressing at her tense muscles and running your fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

When you are having a hard time falling asleep, she will soothe you with her husky/gravelly voice right in your ear. You can feel her hot breath on the side of your face while she whispers sweet nothings to you.

I know she's a dream to wake up to, her hair sprawled out all over the pillow and skin illuminated by the sun rise (NEED THAT).

When you wear her clothes to sleep, beware because you might not be sleeping for the next hour (that probably goes for everyone on this list..)

And her gun is always at her bedside. She is strapped and ready to protect you.

i know i said im on hiatus but shh...im posting drafts... i swear

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Unfinished Business

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Serial Killer!Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: talk of beating/raping women and children (implicit, just mention), near drowning/death, car crash

Summary: You’re the most wanted woman in the country, and the BAU finally has you in its grasp. You hunt and kill truly evil people but it doesn’t seem to matter to the authorities if the victims are rapists, killers, and abusers. You’re doing this country a favor and you’re not finished. It doesn’t matter if you’re caught or not. You’re going to find a way to continue your work.

Square Filled: criminal au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

If the damn clock wasn’t bolted to the wall, you would have ripped it from the plaster and shattered it to pieces. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be at home snuggling with your dog who you presume is missing you. Your sister knows to take him in if she doesn’t hear from you within twenty-four hours so you have no doubt he will be taken care of.

Instead, you’re sitting handcuffed to a table in the BAU.

You’ve been on the FBI’s Top 10 Most Wanted for three years now for your notorious work in slicing up men and women who deserve it. Every single one of your victims was far from innocent, but the FBI doesn’t care if you’ve been cleaning house. All they care about is the fact you have hundreds of victims under your belt.

You’ve been killing since you were a child because your father got you into it. It started with random strangers on the highway (he was a truck driver and would pick them up). He’d get them talking and if he so much got an inkling that they were less than innocent, he’d kill them. He taught you to wear gloves, clothes that don’t fit you, shoes that were slightly too big for you, to always have a wig on, talk with an accent, and never trust anyone.

He was never caught and died almost a decade ago. Now you’re left to continue his work.

Men who rape. Men who kill for fun. Men who abuse. Women who abuse. Women who kidnap. They’re all fair game. You’re ridding the world of evil one person at a time.

The reason you’re sitting here and not at home drinking wine is that you decided it was best to work with someone to take down a small group of abusers. The group was small, maybe five or six men, but they went out and assaulted women at night and left them for dead. This other person who you shall not name knew your father and reached out to you. He wanted to work with you in bringing the group down and you trusted him enough to agree.

Your first mistake.

Your second is when you gave him the task of finding an easy way out in case something went wrong. Something did. There was another man in the house who called 911. Your “friend” got away. You got caught. When the FBI realized who they caught, you knew you wouldn’t be getting out of this alive. There have been two dozen confirmed victims of yours but you know that number is well into the three hundreds by now.

You’ve saved a bunch of men, women, and children from getting abused and hurt, and there isn’t a thing you’d change if you could do it all over again.

You’ve been sitting in this godforsaken room for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe that’s their tactic. Maybe they want you to slowly go insane so you’ll confess to more crimes. You were born at night, not last night. At best, you’ll get three consecutive life sentences. There is no way you’re going to ever see freedom… that is if you were completely alone in this. There is a reason why your father was never caught. He has friends on the inside that you can turn to, so you know you’ll be okay if you get sent to jail.

You tap the metal table with a perfectly manicured nail when the door opens and a black man walks in with a thick file in his hands. Damn, he’s not the one you were hoping would come in. The one who apprehended you was white, and he had the most beautiful brown eyes. Lean but not too skinny. Curly hair. Such beautiful features.

The man sits across from you and lays out pictures of men you’ve killed over the years. They are unsolved cases but the FBI doesn’t know that you’re responsible for them. You keep your eyes on the man as he lays out six photos of men.

“Where are they?”

“What, no introduction? No, ‘How’s it going?’ I don’t get any of that?”

“My name is Agent Morgan, and you’re going to tell me where you buried their bodies.”

“Bold of you to assume I killed them.”

Agent Morgan takes out six more photos and lays them underneath the men’s portraits. Each of the new photos is of their crime scenes. You left a lot of blood behind but none of it is yours.

“Do you know what a signature is?” You don’t answer. “You like to leave behind a name written in your victim’s blood.” In each of the photos, you can see the name you wrote on their walls or mirrors. “Femme Fatale. No one else does that but you. So, I’ll ask again, where did you bury their bodies?”

“Mmm. Ask me again. This time, add ‘please’,” you smirk.

“This is not a game, Y/N. Tell me where they are and maybe we can work out a deal.”

“I’m already seeing three consecutive life sentences for the murders you’ve already pinned on me. Unless your deal is me walking out of this building without so much as a scratch on my record, I’m not telling you shit.”

Agent Morgan nods and gathers the photos. He’s done. He knows he’s not going to get anything out of you right now. He opens the door to leave but you stop him before he can.

“When you’re ready to come back, bring in the cute one. I have a thing for brown eyes and curly hair.”

Agent Morgan all but slams the door on his way out. It’s an hour before someone comes back to you, and this time, it’s who you want.

“Ah, there he is,” you grin and sit up straighter.

“So, I’m the cute one?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Ooh, a doctor. I’m impressed. You look so young.”

Spencer opens a file and takes out pictures, different than the ones Agent Morgan showed you. They’re of your apartment, more specifically, the room you have hidden underneath your stairs. You have a basement in the house but the stairs to it are located underneath your staircase going to the second floor. The door is only accessed when you pull up the last step of the staircase. You had that installed when you bought the house so that your extracurricular activities can remain a secret.

Inside the basement are records of the men and women you’ve killed, where you’ve put their bodies, future victims on your list, and people you are suspicious of. You hate that they found that, but it doesn’t matter. You have many houses across the country and even one in Europe that all have the exact same information. If your father taught you anything, it’s to keep backups and backups of your backups.

The only difference is that every safehouse has a different list of different men and women. There are a lot of evil people on this Earth, and you’ve only worked in one country. Imagine what you’d find in Europe.

“We know you’ve killed more than two dozen. It looks like hundreds.”

“What else do you know?”

“I know that you’re smart--smarter than you’d have us believe. I know that you like to work alone. With a rap sheet like yours, you can’t trust anyone. It’s the reason you got caught. The one time you trusted another person, they let you down.”

“So, you’re not just pretty, you’re smart, too.”

“You can deny it all you want, but the facts are right here.”

“I’m not denying any of it. I killed them. All of them. You know where their bodies are. You don’t need a confession out of me which makes me think you wanted to see me.” You grin and lean forward as much as you can. “Isn’t that right, Spencer? You just wanted to talk to me.”

“I’m going to make sure you don’t see the outside of a prison for the rest of your life,” he whispers.

“I like it when you talk dirty to me,” you smirk and lean back.

“We will be transporting you to a high-facility prison before sunrise.”

“As long as you’re in the car with me.” Spencer doesn’t say anything and cleans up the photos from the table. Like with Agent Morgan, you don’t let him leave just yet. “I’m not a bad person, Dr. Reid.”

“According to your basement, you’ve killed over three hundred people.”

“Richard Sigler was raping his six-year-old daughter. Her own mother didn’t believe her when she told her about it. Benjamin Cross has beaten and raped ten women over the course of a month. He was about to add an eleventh victim when I caught up to him. Alexis Greene aided her husband in kidnapping three children. I was with my sister’s kids when she tried it with me. She never got to a fourth.” You rest your elbows on the table. “I never hurt innocent people.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything and leaves the room. It’s another two hours before you’re placed in the back of a car with Spencer behind the wheel. Luck must be on your side because you two are alone.

“What, no one else is going to join us?”

“They didn’t need to. It’s a short drive.”

“Lucky me,” you grin. “So, since I’ll probably never have a genuine conversation with anyone else, tell me about yourself.” Spencer doesn’t answer. “Let me guess, you’re a reserved know-it-all. Secret romancer? Kinky in bed?”

“Shut up,” Spencer sighs.

“Ah, so you’re kinky, huh? What are you into? Personally, I love being tied up. Choking is a big one.”

“Like I’m going to tell you what I’m into.”

“You don’t have to. I can read people pretty easily. You’re an open book.”

Spencer tries to focus on the road but it’s snowing pretty hard. He didn’t know there would be a snowstorm soon. He thought he’d be able to drop you off and return to the BAU before it hit. He turns the windshield wipers on but it doesn’t do much for the snow pouring down.

“Maybe we should pull over. Get nice and cozy in here,” you chuckle.

“And give you a chance to escape? No way.”

“I have cuffs on, Spencer. You’re the one in control. That’s one of your kinks, right? Being in control.”

“Okay, right now, I need you to shut up.”

You do only because the car is shaking. There must be black ice on the road, and Spencer is trying his best not to skid too much. Spencer doesn’t look nervous but you can tell by his labored breathing and the slight perspiration on his forehead that he’s nervous as hell. The only reason you are, too, is because there is a giant lake to the right of you, and you’ve seen too many movies where cars skid on black ice and end up in lakes.

“Spencer, maybe you should pull over,” you say seriously.

“Don’t tell me how to drive.”

The streetlights barely give Spencer enough light to see the road in front of him, and the snow piles onto the windshield faster than the wipers can remove it. Spencer jerks the wheel to the right to avoid a pothole when the car is caught on a sheet of black ice. The car spins in circles before plunging into the freezing cold waters of the lake. Spencer’s head slams into the steering wheel and is knocked out immediately. Water rapidly fills the car, too fast for your liking. You take off your seatbelt and squat onto the seat so you can slide your cuffed wrists underneath your feet. You’re very flexible for someone your age, and you’re thanking your sister for pushing you to do yoga.

You hop into the front seat and ram your elbow into the passenger window. When all you get is a bruised bone, you know you have to try something else before all of your oxygen is taken from you. After all you’ve done, you’re going to let something like this take you out. The water has reached your chest now, and you open the glove compartment for something hard to break the window.

This is a cop’s car, so they have the tools needed to break open windows. You grab the small tool and slam it into the window. It shatters immediately, and you quickly swim out of the window into the dark lake. You’re about to swim to the surface when you look back at Spencer. You can’t leave him there. He’s going to drown. He’s innocent.

You don’t hurt innocents.

You swim to the other side of the car and use the same tool on his window. You reach in and grab him only to realize that he still has his seatbelt on. The tool you have is also good for cutting seatbelts, so you slice his lap belt and pull him out of the car. It’s hard since you’re handcuffed but you have to get him out of the lake.

Your lungs burn from not having enough oxygen, and black spots start to form in your vision. No matter what, you have to get to the surface before you pass out. Just when you think you’re going to suck in a lungful of water, you break through the surface. You struggle to keep both your head and Spencer’s above water but you manage to swim to the edge of the lake. You push Spencer onto the ground and heave yourself next to him.

Shit, you’re freezing. You reach into his pockets and see if there is a key for your handcuffs. Again, luck must be on your side because there is. You unlock the cuffs and place one of them around Spencer’s wrists and the other to the very thin light pole next to him. You can’t have him following you. You look at Spencer’s face to see him paler than before with blue lips.

“Spencer!”

You lean over him, place your lips over his, and blow into his mouth. You pull back and start doing three chest compressions. You repeat the process five times before Spencer coughs up a bunch of water.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh. “You’re alive.”

“What happened? How did you…?”

“Sorry, babe. I gotta go before they realize you’re missing.”

Spencer jerks his body only to realize he’s handcuffed to the light pole. You grin and hold up the key to the cuffs. You toss them over to him but they’re just shy of his feet. If he stretches hard enough, he’ll reach them but only after he gets his strength back.

“No, get back here right now or I’ll--”

“You’ll what? Arrest me?” You take a few steps before turning back to him. “Don’t take this personally. I have a list to complete. Oh, soft lips by the way. If things were different… As much as I like you, I really hope I don’t see you again.”

Spencer sits helplessly and watches you parade off into the night. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again but he’ll try like hell to make sure he does.

x

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[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 4

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1

AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D

"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5

Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.

He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.

Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?

And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.

"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"

Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."

The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.

The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.

He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"

The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.

The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.

Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.

His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.

"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."

Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.

Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?

"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.

"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"

Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."

The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.

Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.

He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.

Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.

His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.

If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.

His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.

Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?

Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.

He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.

Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.

Because finding you was all that mattered.

As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.

But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.

He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.

But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.

Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.

With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.

For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

"Xavier? Is that you??"

His heart nearly stopped.

You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.

And now, you were almost free.

But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.

"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.

Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.

The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.

Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.

A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.

But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.

As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?

Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.

And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.

You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.

With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.

Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.

Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?

Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.

A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?

"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"

His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"

"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."

You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.

"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?

"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"

The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.

"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"

He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.

"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.

"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."

You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.

Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.

But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.

Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.

But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.

Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.

You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.

Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.

The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.

With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.

Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.

You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.

With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.

Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.

But nothing came.

No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.

For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?

The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.

Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.

You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.

Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.

Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.

For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.

But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.

Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.

Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.

As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.

His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.

"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.

"What happened to your arm?"

You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.

"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.

"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.

"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"

You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.

The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."

He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.

"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."

He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.

You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."

You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.

"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."

He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.

His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.

As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.

Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.

"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.

He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.

Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.

You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.

Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.

Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.

The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.

Please, Xavier... please pick up.

The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.

The phone rang again... and again.

Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.

"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.

Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.

"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."

But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?

Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.

"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.

The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.

"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"

The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.

"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."

His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."

There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."

Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."

"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."

"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."

Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.

Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"

You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.

"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.

You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.

"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, more tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.

The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.

"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."

His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.

You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.

"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."

You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.

The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.

As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.

He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."

You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."

As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."

You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.

Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."

You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.

"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.

Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.

"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."

You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.

Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.

Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.

As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.

He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."

His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.

"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.

"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."

You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.

"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."

Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.

You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.

Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.

He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.

What is he looking for?

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.

"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.

"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.

"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.

You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.

"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.

"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."

Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."

You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"

Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"

You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.

"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.

But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.

Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."

Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.

"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."

His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.

"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."

His words hung in the air, cold and final.

"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.

Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.

As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.

"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.

Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."

The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."

Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.

"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."

As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.

The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.

"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.

The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.

"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.

The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.

You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.

The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.

His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.

Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"

The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.

"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.

"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."

For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.

"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."

His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.

He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.

“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"

The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.

Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.

Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.

At least he gave you warm baths.

The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.

Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.

The cold water finally stops.

In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.

[thechaoticcherub]

Eight Ball Corner Pocket

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Reader goes on a really bad date, Joel steps in to help make her forget it.

Warnings: 18+ Please, large age gap, mentions of reader being plus size/fat, otherwise reader is not really described, reader is self conscious, fatphobia(not by Joel at all), internalized fatphobia, Reader is just really trying to learn to love herself, negative self talk, drinking, random boy is a fuckin' meany, eight ball, reader is excellent at pool, semi traumatic past(barely mentioned), oral sex(female receiving), pet names(SO MANY), vaginal sex, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, pussy pronouns

Notes: My bff edited this for me and I went over it a little but its not perfect. I also worked for SO long on this. I cried a little while writing it because it healed some shit in me. I hope it helps my other plus size/fat readers. Joel would think you are sexy af.

Word Count: 7.7 K

Going to the Tipsy Bison with this guy you had known for years was supposed to be a date. Your friends had made it feel like a big deal that he had finally asked you out. You wore a dress. Futzed with your hair until it was just right and actually got kind of excited. This guy, Daniel, was someone you had known since you were young and new to Jackson, essentially grown up with him and he wasn’t exactly your type, or all that interesting but everyone made it seem like it was bound to happen, like you were destined to date and he finally asked you. So you wore the dress. Did the whole thing with the hair and walked to the Tipsy Bison with him.

Things were fine, albeit a little boring while you had drinks and talked. You felt a little self conscious both of the fact that everyone around you seemed aware that it was a date and that he kept looking at your body. It didn’t even seem appreciative, it seemed like he was appraising you. The way your arm jiggled as you lifted your glass, how round your cheeks were when you smiled, the curve of your tummy he could notice through your dress. You felt like you were meat on display and the buyer wasn’t that interested. 

Things got slightly better when you asked if he wanted to play pool and so you two went to the open pool table and set up to play standard 8-ball. 

You broke and the balls went scattering, the solid 2 went into a pocket and then to your delight so did the 3. Daniel wasn’t so lucky. You kicked his ass the first game. It took almost no time and it was fun, you found yourself flirting a little more, making sure you leaned over just right as you were lining up a shot so he could catch a glimpse of your cleavage. Or so your ample ass stuck out in a way that you thought would be appealing. Daniel joked about being not so good at pool but you could tell he was getting frustrated by the time you got the 8 ball into one of the center pockets. 

 Halfway through the second game, you had some onlookers. Some of the older Jackson residents that spent a lot more time at the Tipsy Bison than you watched and cheered you on as you cleaned the floor with your date. 

It was when you leaned low over the table, lining up a tricky shot, trying to get your 5 ball into the far corner pocket by glancing it off of the edge of the table when you noticed Joel Miller was watching from his typical spot at the bar. 

Joel was notoriously grouchy, typically drinking at the bar with his brother Tommy, and incredibly attractive. Everyone knew he rarely spent any of his freetime with women, and the lucky few he had taken back to his place were always cryptic about it when asked. He was also a good chunk older than you, at least old enough to be your father, and none of the women he had been seen with were more than 10 years his junior. But here he was, sitting next to Tommy, looking right at you. Tommy was watching too, but there was something about Joel that made you almost miss your shot. Almost. The 5 ball skittered for a moment but then bounced off the side right by the pocket and dropped in. You grinned and hopped to a standing position, your hair and breasts both  bouncing, your breasts bouncing in the dress you were wearing and giggled.

“Damn!” Tommy commented with a laugh, looking over at Joel, catching him staring at you and punching his flannel clad arm, “She’s good.” There was a smattering of some of the others making similar comments but Joel remained quiet. 

You proudly turned to Daniel who let out a long, low whistle,

“Shit,” He said. “If you were more my type I’d be taking you home with me,” Daniel laughed, looking at you standing proudly holding your pool cue. Your heart sank, dropping into your stomach. It was such an odd thing to say on a date that you were momentarily taken aback. 

“What do you mean,  ‘if I was more your type’?”  You questioned, putting a hand on your hip. Daniel looked a little sheepish but then he shrugged and half-heartedly gestured to your body,

“I mean…just…” Daniel shrugged again and something inside you shriveled. All the confidence you had gained from kicking his ass at pool, the way you had looked at yourself in the mirror pleased with how the dress sat against your round belly and accentuated your chubby thighs vanished in an instant and you were suddenly a teenager being picked on for having bigger boobs than the rest of the girls your age. It wasn’t even like you had wanted to go home with Daniel, he was scrawny and more importantly, boring but the way he had so blatantly said it, hurt a small part of you that you thought you had hidden away. 

“Ah,” You said, turning away from him. Worse than the fact that he was saying this was that you were sure that there were other people that could hear. Worse than that even was you were so taken aback that you couldn’t come up with a reply, you didn’t tell him to fuck off or get lost. 

“I mean, besides your body you’re really pretty!” Daniel said and if you had had it in you, you would have punched him in the fucking face but it was taking everything in you to not start crying. You looked at the pool table in front of you and realized you were about to beat him. You only had the eight ball left and you were pretty well set up to knock it into the corner pocket. 

“Yeah.” You said. “Good to know. Eight ball, corner pocket.” You pointed to the corner pocket you meant, the pocket that was opposite of the bar. You walked over to the side of the table closest to the bar and leaned over. You set up your pool cue, anger and embarrassment should have clouded your perception, should have made it more difficult but you needed to prove something to him, you wanted to humiliate him the best way you could. So when you took the shot there was a loud, satisfying crack of cue ball smacking into 8 ball and then the even more satisfying thwunk of the 8 ball falling into the pocket. 

You dropped your pool cue onto the table with a clatter  and turned your back to Daniel, wanting to just go to the bar and forget him. 

“Rematch?” Daniel asked, sounding oblivious to your hurt and irritation. You were about to whip around and tell him off when a low, husky voice spoke up from the bar. 

“I think you’ve been embarrassed enough, son.” Joel had stood up from his bar stool and gone over to Daniel. “I wanna play the winner,” Joel insisted as he sidled up to Daniel. Daniel looked almost like he wanted to argue but Joel put his hand on the pool cue he was still clutching and gave it a tug. You looked from Daniel to Joel and then refused to let your eyes move back to the boy you had let speak to you so horribly. You didn’t want to give him another ounce of attention, especially when Joel Miller wanted to play you in pool.

“W-well we’re kinda out together-” Daniel stuttered. Joel eased the pool cue all the way out of his grip and turned to the table, not sparing him another glance,

“Nah, you’re not.” Joel said, reaching into one of the pockets to take out some of the balls. “Wanna play someone who’ll actually give ya a run for your money, sweetheart?” Joel asked you as you watched him move. You pursed your lips, trying to conceal a little smile at the pet name. You tilted your head to the side as if you were considering it, you knew you’d rather get beat at pool by Joel Miller than kick Daniel’s ass any day. Plus, you were on a roll, maybe you could beat him and while Joel was gruff and attractive, and quiet, and really attractive and stern and holy fucking shit hot. He was also safe. Safely unavailable. Older than you. 

“Sure,” You said finally with a shrug, reaching out and picking up your pool cue again.

“Atta girl,” He said, nodding and grabbing the triangle to start putting balls in. You passed him the  balls and he got it set up properly while you watched and paid exactly zero attention to Daniel who might have been slinking away from the pool table anyway. 

“You wanna break?” Joel huffed looking up from where he had set up the triangle. 

“I’ll break if you really think you can beat me,” You teased, trying to fake that confidence you had felt earlier. Joel breathed out a little laugh, 

“Go ahead and break, darlin and I’ll try to go easy on you.” And then Joel Miller winked at you, your heart skipped, and you felt the need to beat him drive deeper. You lined up your shot and broke with a sharp snap of balls, they skittered all over the table, the 10 ball dropped into a pocket.

“Guess I’m stripes,” You said, taking your next shot and missing the 9 ball by a centimeter. Joel walked over, putting his hand on your waist as he squeezed past you to get to the cue ball. Your cheeks burned and you tugged at the skirt of your dress. 

“Maybe it means your luck is out,” Joel leaned over and you tried not to admire the way his jeans tightened over his ass. 

“Maybe…but I doubt it,” You said, flouncing around the table to take your next turn as he missed his shot and swore under his breath.  

It turned out, Joel was excellent at pool, it was sheer luck that made you able to take a few turns, sinking some balls in the pockets, hoping you at least had a chance at the eight ball. 

“I could give you a few pointers, darlin.” Joel said as he sunk his last ball into a side pocket and looked around the table for the eight ball. “If you’re worried about the quality of your game,” He teased, his eyes were alight and there was a smile playing on his lips. You could tell he was competitive, and beating you was stroking his ego.  You didn’t mind though, the entire time you had played he had called you pet names and you had playfully trash talked each other. Joel had gotten you a beer and only teased you a little bit when you almost knocked the glass off the edge of the pool table with your pool cue. Now, you were desperately hoping he’d miss this shot so you could sink a couple more balls and then take your own shot at the 8 ball. “8 ball corner pocket,” he pointed to the pocket he meant and glanced at you, smirking. 

“Nahh, cause I think you’re about to scratch on the 8 ball.” You told him, holding your pool cue propped up on the ground between your knees. 

“You wish, puddin’…you…” he lined up his shot, leaning over, “wish,” he finished as he shot. The 8 ball, followed immediately by the cue ball, sank into the pocket with a thwuthwunk. You burst out laughing and raised your fists in triumph. 

“You lose, old man!” You squealed excitedly. Joel was staring at the pocket that had lost him the game, shocked that what you had predicted actually happened. “I win!” You did a little dance, jiggling your hips. Joel’s eyes twinkled as he watched you but he was forcing a frown, making himself look disappointed. 

“You win by default not ‘cause you actually beat me, sugar.” He pointed his pool cue at you and you giggled.

“A win is a win!” You said. Your round cheeks were glowing with warmth and you couldn’t believe your luck, both in the game and in the fact that Joel Miller had single handedly saved your evening. Joel was downing the end of his beer and you glanced around the bar for any sign of Daniel, he was gone and you weren’t disappointed but you were a little irritated. “Looks like I drove my date off,” 

Joel cast his eyes around the bar too and then shrugged. “You’re better off,” He said, setting his beer glass down on the bar. “C’mon, let me walk ya home.” He grabbed his coat from where he had thrown it over the end of the bar and pulled it on. 

“Oh…don’t worry about it, Joel, I’m fine.” You said, looking towards the door, you didn’t want to put him out, he had already been so nice to you. You licked your lower lip and then sucked it into your mouth, “Thanks for playing me though, you kind of rescued me.” You told him. Joel chuckled, “Uh-uh, Puddin’. I ain’t lettin you walk home alone,” he said. He gestured towards the door and you led the way out into the cool evening air. You were just in your dress and cardigan and you shivered as soon as the wind blew across your chest and ruffled the hem of your dress. 

“You ain’t got a jacket?” Joel asked, looking down at you. You shrugged, 

“It was warmer earlier,” You mumbled. Before you could stop him Joel shrugged out of his jacket and put it over your shoulders. “Joel-I can’t take your coat-”

“Quit arguein’ with me,” His voice was gruff and commanding, “I ain’t going to put up with it much longer,” He was teasing you but you knew better than to try to fend off his kindness. You walked across mainstreet and tried not to feel self conscious about the way his jacket wasn’t as big on you as it might have been on another girl. Ever since Daniel’s comments you hadn’t been able to shake the stupid self conscious internal monologue. 

“How’d you learn how to play pool?” Joel asked as you walked.

“My dad spent a lot of time in the Tipsy Bison when I was younger and being there was the best way to spend time with him so…I kinda taught myself pool to keep myself entertained,” You explained. Joel knew your dad had been a drunk. In Jackson, everyone knew everything about everyone else and you didn’t want to get into it anymore than that. In the quiet that followed, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, his hand pressing into his own jacket against your side. You felt yourself tense up, wondering why he was doing this. Why would he want to hold you close like this? 

Your heart had momentarily fluttered when he touched you but then it sunk again. He must have seen you staring at him and then heard the way Daniel spoke to you, and being such a good guy,  he wanted to boost your confidence by offering a little physical touch. You took a step away from him and looked up at him, 

“You don’t have to do this,” You said. You stopped walking, pushing his hand back as his grip tried to follow you. Joel looked at you, confused, his brow furrowed.

“Do what?” he asked. 

“Walk me home to try and make me feel better about my date ditching, give me your coat, touch me just to make me feel like I’m not…not disgusting or something,” You said, shifting your weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Joel’s face twisted a little and you waited for him to agree to stop, to leave you standing in the middle of the street but he didn’t move away. In fact he reached out and put a steady hand on your waist again, but this time between his jacket and your dress. 

“Beg your pardon, sweetheart, but, what the fuck?” He laughed out the words and you felt anger spike through you. You shoved his large hand back, away from you. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear what Daniel said to me back there! Don’t pretend that you’re touching me because you actually want to. I get it that you feel bad for me that no…no boy would want me.” Your lower lip trembled and you bit it fiercely, not wanting him to notice you were near tears. Joel’s eyes were blazing and his jaw was clenched, he was angry and you were sure it was because you had called him on his bullshit. 

“That nasty little boy who you had the misfortune of goin’ on a date with ain’t got nothin’ to do with me wantin’ to touch you,” Joel growled.  You turned to face him now. It was your turn to look confused. Something stuck in your throat and you couldn’t reply to him even though you found yourself wanting to argue with him. “If he didn’t wanna take ya home, it’s ‘cause he’s a stupid little boy who aint got any idea what to do.” Your eyes searched his face, looking for a sign of dishonesty.

“But-” You managed to blurt out, your voice trembling as much as your lip was. 

“The whole reason I haven’t dragged you back to my place already is because I’m too old and worn out for someone so pretty and full of life.” He looked almost sad as he said it, large hands  splayed as he explained. You couldn’t believe it. Joel had to know how wanted he was by an almost endless amount of women in Jackson. What kind of sick joke was this? Was he trying to make you throw yourself at him just so he could reject you? You tried to find the lie in the creases on his face but he was steady and everything about him screamed honesty but none of that lined up with your own idea of yourself. 

“But you’re so hot, Joel.” You breathed, “Why would you want me?” You asked, still trying to discover the lie, or uncover his joke. Joel’s eyes darkened again as he looked at you like you were completely insane, “Quit it,” He said, “Don’t you think for a single second that you’re the one reachin’ here, i’m old enough to be your daddy and you’re…look at you.” You could see barely controlled lust in his eyes as they roamed over your body and the way he did it didn’t make you feel like he was appraising you to see if you were worth it. He was appreciating you. Appreciating the way your breasts stretched the fabric of your dress and the way you could see the curve of your belly, the way your thighs pressed together. You stared at him, trying to take in the truth of his statement, trying to remember how pretty you had found yourself that morning before you had been reminded of all the insecurities of your teenage years. 

“Aw, fuck it,” Joel breathed. His big hands found your waist on one side and your neck on the other, dragging you into him. He had to lean over a little to press his lips into yours but he did it in one swift motion, holding you to him. The hand at your waist was tucked into his jacket again, squeezing the flesh of your side. His lips were a little chilled from the night air and they tasted so good, like beer and a heady, warm taste. His skin and beard were rough against your lips and cheeks as he kissed you. You started to forget your worry as he held you into him. 

“Been wantin’ to do that ever since I watched you kick that idiot’s ass at pool,” Joel mumbled as he broke away from you. Your eyes were glassy as you looked up at him, he was so close you could see all the crinkles around his eyes. 

“Do it again then,” You challenged, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. Joel didn’t need telling twice, he caught your bottom lip between his and sucked it into his mouth, nibbling as the hand at your neck moved up to cup your face. 

“You shouldn’t come home with me, I’m too old for you, puddin’”  he breathed into your mouth, laying another lingering kiss against your lips and breaking away to speak into the skin of your cheek, “But I want you to,” he said. There wasn’t an ounce of you that doubted him now, and his hand on your waist was greedily running over the dips and rolls you usually hated. His other hand had dropped to your hip, holding you steady.

“I want to,” You said to him through a smile. 

“You shouldn’t,” he responded, “You should be a good girl and go home,”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You giggled, leaning your body into him, he supported your weight with his broad chest and as you spoke his hand at your waist caught your flesh tight in his grip while the hand at your hip dipped lower, grabbing the seat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. 

“You’re goin’ to regret that, puddin’,” Joel muttered, looking down into your eyes. You smiled at him and watched as the way he looked down at you turned from sweet and  almost loving,  into something like a predator stalking prey. In a swift motion he pulled back from you and bent slightly, lifting you at the waist and hauling you over his shoulder. 

“Joel! You cant-you’re going to hurt yourself,” You nearly shrieked, mortified at how hard it must have been to lift you. Joel let out a grunt and then a snort of laughter, 

“Yeah right, darlin.” He said, he didn’t even sound strained and you felt yourself melt a little. That was until he reached up and smacked your ass, hard. “You wanna come home with me? Lets get you home then,” he turned and started the other direction up the street. You dangled over his shoulder, his jacket practically hanging off of your arms and his arm wrapped around your thighs was the only thing that kept your dress from falling above your head. 

Joel walked all the way to his house with you over his shoulder, and even managed to get the front door open and you over the threshold before he bent to set you onto your feet. You had barely recovered from hanging over his back when his hands were on you again, pressing you back against the wall of his entryway. He kissed your lips but only briefly before he started to work his lips down your cheek, your chin, your jaw. You could feel the strength of his hands as he tightened them against your hips, keeping you pressed into the wall. His lips and stubble pressed into you. kissing prickly heat into your neck. The heat from his lips burned down your throat and into your stomach, melting you. Joel’s fingers found the sleeves of your dress and started to take them down. 

“God, I gotta see all of your pretty body, darlin’” he said into your neck. With a tug the dress pulled down. You had worn your favorite bra, a simple unlined cream colored one. There wasn’t much for sexy lingerie in Jackson but this one was relatively new, clean and had scalloped edges. Joel’s pulled back to let his eyes wander down your chest, “As pretty as this is,” he started, his finger tracing the edge of your bra along the curve of your ample breast. “Its comin’ off,” he finished before reaching around and unhooking it with deft, skilled fingers. He tugged it off of your arms and exposed your jiggling, heavy breasts. 

“Fuck, puddin’, look at these.” Joel’s cupped your tits, palms pressing into your hardening nipples. His fingers dug in, dimpling the soft skin of your breasts. You sighed at the feeling of him touching you, his pointer fingers slipped down and stroked around your nipples. The skin puckered even more and you pressed your chest forward, letting out a shy sigh. “That’s a good girl,” he breathed. He replaced his finger on one of your nipples with his mouth, kissing your areola and letting his tongue flutter around the pebbled tip of your nipple. His hands dropped to the hem of your dress and he started to ruck it up your body. You let out a little whine, putting your hand over his to make him pause,

“You…you don’t have to take that off,” You mumbled, as if giving him permission to keep you partially covered. You didn’t think he’d want to see your whole body. You felt like it might ruin his excitement if he saw your round belly and the way it moved and wiggled as you adjusted or breathed heavily. 

Joel stared at you like you were completely insane, “Oh babygirl, it’s comin’ off unless you tell me otherwise in three…” He tugged it up farther, the dress sliding up past your thighs to where your sex was covered by your simple underwear. “Two…” He continued to gather it in his fists, revealing the curve of your belly. You couldn’t find words to stop him. You  were shy about your naked body but Joel made you feel like he wanted to see you so you let him. “One,” The hem of the dress met the spot where he had tugged the bodice down to reveal your breasts and Joel gathered the whole thing in one loop of fabric around your body and tugged it up and off of your heads o you were bare except for your underwear in front of him. You immediately crossed your arms in front of your belly, instinctively wanting to hide it from him, even though you had let him strip you while you were standing in his entryway. 

Joel leaned in towards your, his lips hovering above yours as he looked down at you; one of his hands trailed down your arm and collected first your right wrist and then your left one in his big hand. In a fluid motion you weren’t expecting he lifted your wrists above your head and pressed them into the wall. 

“Don’t do that to me, puddin’, don’t hide yourself from me.” He breathed, you felt the warmth of his breath wash over your lips and you craved his mouth on yours again. You were leaning into him, trying to get to his lips but he didn’t indulge you; he pulled back enough so that he could look down your body, his hand still holding both your wrists above your head. You swallowed as his gaze lit on every inch of your body that you were most ashamed of, but instead of making you feel judged or uncomfortable, it only drove your lust deeper. The way Joel looked at you was with such appreciation, and a feral need. Joel growled as he looked you over, pressing your hands harder against the wall, keeping you there as he pressed his clothed body against your naked one. You wanted to get him undressed, you wanted to touch him and look at him the way he was looking at you but there was also something so vulgar and sexy about being naked while he stood in front of you completely clothed, appreciating your nudity. 

“Are you goin’ to be good and keep your hands away from your body? I don’t want ya coverin’ up again,” He said, the tip of his nose ran along the side of your nose, his lips just out of reach from yours. You nodded,

“Yes.” your voice was weak and strained with need. 

“That’s my good, pretty girl.” Joel’s lips twitched towards a smile while he spoke to you. Your body reacted to the words in a way that surprised you, you shivered, your nipples hardening even more, there was a rushing feeling in your lower tummy, slipping into your cunt. Joel removed his hand from your wrists, your hands dropped but you didn’t try to cover yourself again; instead you reached out and took his waist, pulling him close to you. Your brow furrowed in need as you looked up into his eyes. Joel stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers, “Can you keep being a good girl even if I get ya completely naked, puddin’?” He asked, his brown eyes focused on yours. You swallowed, trying to drown your own anxieties and fears because being naked for him sounded so good. You nodded. 

“I wanna hear you say you’ll be good for me,” He chastised, his eyes sparkling, teasing.. Waxy warmth continued to pool in your tummy and drip lower, making you feel like your pussy was melting into your underwear. 

“I can be good,” You let the words fall out before you could think twice about them.

“Atta girl,” and with that he eased down onto his knees, letting out a short groan as his knees creaked. You hadn’t been expecting him to be level with your pussy so quickly and you gasped as his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties and ripped them down without any level of ceremony. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, you felt so sure he would be disgusted by your pussy you didn’t want to give him the chance to see it but you reminded yourself that he really, actually thought you were beautiful. He had not been lying. He hadn’t been joking and if Joel Miller thought you were beautiful, it was clearly true. You kept your hands way from him as you felt his gaze move to your pussy,. 

“Lord help me, I’m fuckin’ lucky. She’s so fuckin’ pretty.” Joel’s words sounded like a prayer, half under his breath, half through a growl in his chest. You watched as his eyes examined you, his hands running up and down your trembling thighs, trying to sooth you. You felt tense until his eyes moved from your pussy in front of him, up into your eyes. You melted a little when you recognized the intense need behind his eyes. 

“Spread your legs, I need to see her more…fuck i need to taste her, darlin’” He informed you.  You felt your cunt clench at the words. No one had ever eaten you out before and the thought of it sent shivers down your spine. You worried internally that he would find it disgusting but he was on his knees in front of you, saying he wanted to so you took him at his word and stepped your feet apart more, looking down at him. His eyes fell again to your pussy, and his fingers crawled up your thighs until he was at the apex of your thighs.  His hand cupped your whole plush pussy in his hand, his thumb running up and down your slick slit. Joel let out a purr of approval as he felt your wetness. 

“There’s my girl,” He whispered, his voice sounded horse and you felt the wetness between your legs seep out against the ministrations of his thumb. “You’re drippin’, honey,” He told you, eyes flicking back up to your face. You let out a whine, embarrassed by how needy you were. You reached up and covered your face with your hand,

“Joel, it’s…it’s embarrassing,” You whined, your words sounded like they were stuck in your throat. 

“I know, sugar, but it’s so pretty. Aint nothin’ to be embarrassed about,” He pulled his hand away, as his thumb disconnected with your slit you watched in vague humiliation as a string of your wetness connected his thumb to your pussy lips. When it broke, Joel brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the bit of your juices off of it. 

He let out a low moan in his chest, it bubbled up and seemed to overtake him. He grabbed one of your thighs and lifted it so you had to lean back against the wall to maintain your balance. Joel’s hand fixed under your knee and hooked your leg over his shoulder. You felt your pussy open more for him, your lips parting as Joel’s eyes roamed over you,

“There she is…” he breathed, the fingers of his other hand found your waiting pussy lips and stroked up and down. You squeaked out your pleasure as the pads of  his fingers grazed along your wetness and brushed your clit. Before you had recovered from that,Joel leaned forward and licked a stripe up your pussy. You gasped and tensed so much that you stood up on the tiptoes of your foot that was planted on the ground. 

“Oh my god! Joel!” You gasped and he tilted his head back to look up at you,

“Aint you ever had someone lick this pretty pussy?” He asked.  You mutely shook your head and his eyes softened and then he let out a chuckle, “Oh honey,” he said. “Let’s take her apart, yeah?” You nodded and his mouth moved back to your pussy, lapping at your wetness. 

One hand stayed on the underside of the leg wrapped around his shoulder, keeping you open for him and his other hand roamed up your thigh, to your belly. His tongue lavished first along each inner lip, teasing up towards your clit but never touching it, then down towards the source of your wetness. Your cunt clenched each time his tongue neared your entrance. The hand on your tummy pressed in, squeezing the flesh there, dimpling your skin and pressing you back. The acknowledgment of the chubbiness of your belly would have usually made you self conscious but the way his thumb rubbed along your skin and the way he squeezed it so possessively made your pussy gush even more. Your hand fell to the silver curls on his head and you grabbed them, not pulling him in, not pushing him back, just having something to anchor yourself there. 

You felt him hum and growl into your pussy, and it sent vibrations skittering through you. Joel’s tongue was an expert at pleasuring you, the second you felt like you needed more, he would lick up to your clit, still barely grazing it. The second you felt like you might be overwhelmed with pleasure, he would back off and plant slow, wet, languid kisses closer to your hole. Nothing had ever felt like this before. Nothing had given you this intense need. 

You fisted your fingers into his hair and it only spurred him on, his tongue moved back up to your clit and started to work over it in a tight pattern of circles, sweeping over it, working you up, up, up. 

“Come on, puddin’, you gonna come on my face?” he asked into the folds of your soaked pussy. You whined, holding his hair tighter. His fingers squeezed on your belly and your thick thigh, “I know you’re close, babygirl, I can feel it.” He said before putting all his attention on your clit again, this time sucking it into his mouth. You felt like you were about to black out when he added small nibbles to the mix. You saw black around your vision as Joel took you over the edge. Your orgasm overtook you very suddenly, dropping you off the cliff and making you throw your head back, smacking it against the wall. It didn’t matter though, nothing hurt, the pleasure coursing through you made you stand up on your toes again, pressing more of your weight onto Joel’s shoulder. But he held you steady, licking your clit through your orgasm. When he finally let you go, you dropped your leg from around his shoulder, you were about to apologize but it was like he could tell because he shut you up with a kiss, his mouth pressed into yours. You could taste yourself on him, heady and warm. 

“I need ya, babygirl,” He said into your mouth. “Gotta feel my girl wrapped around my cock,” He mumbled as his hands cupped your cheeks and held you up against him, his lips centimeters from yours. You nodded. 

“Yes, Joel, yes I need your cock,” You breathed into him and you felt his lips twitch into a smile. His hands moved to your arms and he grabbed them, turning you around towards the entryway to his living room. Your tummy jiggled a little at the sudden movement and your breasts swayed. You were now very aware of how naked you were and how fully clothed he was. Still holding your upper arms he leaned down behind you to whisper into your ear, 

“Be a good girl and help an old man out, go bend over the arm of the couch. Show off that ass,” He spanked your ass once to get you moving and, trembling, you went through the doorway into the living room. The couch arm was high enough that you could easily bend at the waist over it, using it to support yourself. You arched your back, hoping you were providing a sexy view of yourself but you worried so much about the way your hips widened and how if your ass looked too big sticking out like that. 

You heard Joel behind you, the jingled of a belt buckle and then the slide of a zipper. He moved behind you and you could feel the heat of him against you, rough denim against your soft skin. 

“I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven, baby, look at you!” Joel huffed out as his hands slid over your ample hips and cupped the thickness of your ass. You felt him pull at your asscheek so it spread slightly, showing off your pussy to him. “You’re so soft and pretty for me,” His hand traveled up your back and then back down to your ass, “And that delicious pussy peaking out for me, sayin’ hello.” His fingers slipped lower and stroked over your still soaking lips, pressing at your entrance, teasing it. You let out a moan. 

“You…you really think I look pretty like this?” You asked nervously, you couldn’t help it, you were trying to force yourself to believe it.  You looked back over your shoulder nervously, still trying to search for the joke. 

Joel moved his hand from your pussy and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back so your head was pulled back and he leaned over your body to speak into your ears

“Yes.” He said. “Do you not believe it? Do you need me to show you how fuckin’ sexy I think you are?” he asked. Joel rutted his hips up against yours, you could feel his hardness against you, the bulge against his boxers, pressing into you. You gasped and nodded. “Alrigh’ darlin’ i’ll show ya,” He let go of your hair with a little push and you instinctively arched your back, showing yourself off to him. Joel’s hands moved to his boxers, tugging his big cock out. It slapped against your ass cheek and you gasped again. 

“You feel him, puddin’?” he asked, his hand wrapping around himself and rubbing it along your slit. “Think you can take all of him in that tight little thing?” He asked, he notched the bulbous head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt and you already felt him stretching you a little. Suddenly you weren’t so sure you could but you wanted it, badly. You nodded vigorously and he started to press his cock head into your twitching pussy. You let out a moan and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you back into him. “There’s a good girl, that feel good?” He asked. You couldn’t speak, you felt like you were drunk, he was splitting you open for him, carving out a space for himself in your cunt. You nodded again and his hand came down sharply on your asscheek, “Words, puddin’, lemme hear you ask for more  o’him in that…Jesus Christ…tight pussy.” He moaned out through gritted teeth. 

“Oh…god, please put more in me, Joel! Fill me up.” You could barely get the words out because you were seeing stars. Joel pressed himself in deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside of you. You could feel his eyes glued to the place where your bodies connected, watching the way you wrapped so tightly around his cock. 

“You’ve got a bit of a filthy mouth,” He laughed.  “I wanna hear more of that,” The laugh turned to a growl as he dragged his hips back, the walls of your pussy contracting, trying desperately to keep Joel’s big dick inside of you. Joel rocked himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, hitting a spot inside of you that tingled all throughout your body. 

“Fuck!” you moaned, “Joel! Don’t…don’t stop fucking me, please, please, I need your cock in me.” You moaned. Joel gave you exactly what you needed, pumping his cock in and out of you over and over, filling you up, stretching you for him. You could feel another orgasm building and it shocked you, another orgasm so soon and one caused just by his cock inside of you was unheard of for you. Your breathing was ragged as you pressed yourself back into him and he clamped his hands on your hips, guiding you back. 

“You want to come again, dont you?” Joel asked. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” You moaned. 

“Yeah, I can feel you clenching on me.” His voice was stained, working towards his own release. “First you come on my face and now you wanna come on my dick?” he asked. You nodded again, your heart was hammering and all you wanted was to feel his release inside of you while you came all over his cock but you doubted Joel would be willing to come inside of you, it was too risky. Joel groaned again, his hips thrusting more sloppily into you, you could tell he was close to his own orgasm, he was chasing it desperately. You were so close, your legs were shaking, but then Joel had pulled out of you, his hand pumped over his cock twice and you felt ropes of his hot spend fall against your back and down your ass cheeks. Your pussy clenched on nothing, desperate for more. “Oh good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” He moaned, watching his own come spread across your back and ass. 

Joel didn’t forget that you had been practically begging for it, even as he came down from his own release he wrapped his arm around you, reaching between your legs and finding your clit, starting to stroke it with deftness that bordered on expertise.

“I wanna watch you come, puddin’,” His voice seemed to float to youfrom far away. You let out a weak moan and arched your back, his fingers worked tight circles around your clit while the fingers of his other hand replaced his cock in your pussy, two thick fingers working you open. 

“You gotta tell me when you’re going to come,” He breathed. Joel watched as his fingers fucked into you and you pressed yourself back. You could feel his come slipping down between your asscheeks and you longed for it inside of you. The fingers at your clit brushed over it again and again, sending you into a dizzying frenzy, incoherent moaning and babbling slipped from your lips. This orgasm came over you in a a steady sort of pulse that worked from you clit as he toyed with it into your cunt as he curled his fingers up, stroking the walls of your pussy.

“I’m…I’m coming!” you gasped out and Joel tugged his fingers out of your pussy. You gasped at the loss but his fingers on your clit still teased you through it, “Fuck, Joel!” You moaned, clenching on nothing, feeling his eyes on your pussy, eating up the look of your empty cunt begging for more. 

“Oh christ, darlin’ your pulsing for it.” He breathed and his words spurred your orgasm further, making you gasp and collapse forward against the couch. Joel’s hand slowly eased away from you and rubbed up your spine, catching his breath. You were wrecked and you could feel his come still trickling down your back, your orgasm had been so good but you found yourself still desperate to be full of his cock again already. Probably because he hadn’t even finger fucked you through your orgasm. There was the quiet sound of movement behind you and then footsteps. You didn’t want to get up because of the mess all down your back but before you had time to do anything, Joel came back and used a towel to wipe down your back and your ass. Joel reached down and helped you stand up, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled your ample body against his, smushing you against him.

“Let’s get you to the bed before you start begging for my cock again,” He smirked and you giggled and hid your face in his shoulder,

“I can’t believe you actually-“

“Nuh-uh…none of that. Get your sweet ass to bed,” He said into your ear, his hands gliding over your curvy hips and down to your ass. “I stared at your ass the whole time you played eight ball with that idiot,” He said. “And I finally got to feel it.” You pulled back to look up at him, eyes shining. He squeezed your plump ass, “I do think you owe me a rematch in pool though,” Joel said with a smirk. 

“Okay but only if you also let me come on your cock next time,” You said even though your face heated up and you had to look away in embarrassment. Joel took your chin and forced you to look back at him,

“If you beat me, you can come on my cock. If you don’t…well, we’ll see.” His eyes sparkled and your  heart squeezed.

“Deal.”

[missarchive]

pretty boy - preview

spencer reid

summary; Spencer Reid, intelligent but unversed in certain aspects of life, looks for guidance in unfamiliar territory. When he connects with someone more experienced, a dynamic forms that challenges both of them. As they explore trust, boundaries, and control, they uncover new layers of themselves and each other.

cw; +18 minors dni, heavy bdsm themes (literally the whole plot of the fic), sub!spencer, mommy kink, inexperienced!spencer, phone sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, overstimulation, orgasm denial, edging, use of toys, cumplay, spit, spencer really likes being dominated

an; this is just a teaser for my new series! the content warnings do not apply to this preview, but they will become apparent when i post this in full. as always, feedback is appreciated, let me know what you think so far <3

The city hums in the background, its pulse a constant buzz of movement, opportunity, and noise. For Spencer Reid, the chaos outside is nothing compared to the quiet turmoil inside. A mind brimming with knowledge, yet devoid of the experiences most take for granted. His days with the BAU are filled with cases, theories, and human behaviour—things he can analyse, but never truly understand on a personal level.

In the confines of his apartment, Spencer finds solace in routines, in solitude. Yet, there’s something missing. A craving he’s ignored for too long, one he can’t quite name. His loneliness isn’t just the absence of people—it’s the absence of connection, of something deeper.

This craving takes him down a path he never expected, one that leads him to an online forum—a place where boundaries can be explored, where he can ask questions he’s too hesitant to voice in person. Here, he begins his journey, unsure of what he’s seeking, but certain that something must change.

You sit back in your chair, eyes scanning the screen before you. It's late, and the dim light of your desk lamp casts shadows across the room. The soft hum of your laptop is the only sound, aside from the occasional click of your mouse as you navigate through the forum. The world of BDSM, of dominance and submission, has always intrigued you—not just the physical aspect, but the psychological and emotional depth it brings. You’ve been part of this world for years, and while some things have remained constant, you’ve always known that the most powerful dynamic isn’t about control for the sake of control—it’s about trust, nurturing, and care.

Tonight, though, it’s different.

You weren’t planning to interact with anyone new, but something about a particular post catches your attention. His name is Spencer, a man in his mid-twenties, just beginning his exploration into BDSM. The post is hesitant, a little unsure, yet it holds an honesty you can't ignore. He’s seeking advice, asking for guidance—he doesn’t have much experience, but he’s eager to learn. His words are sincere, almost fragile in their vulnerability. You can sense his hesitation, his uncertainty, but there’s something about his openness that makes you feel a sudden protective instinct.

You’re not new to guiding others, to teaching someone how to navigate their desires and boundaries. But this feels different. Spencer doesn’t seem like someone who’s seeking a casual encounter or someone just wanting to explore for fun. He seems like he’s genuinely seeking a deeper connection, a way to understand himself in a way he hasn’t had the chance to before. And that’s something you can relate to. 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you consider your response. You don’t want to scare him off with too much, but you also want to reassure him that he’s not alone in this. He’s not the first person to feel uncertain, and he certainly won’t be the last.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[huggingkoalas]

𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝? 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count — ‧₊˚ 2.9k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

authors note — ‧₊˚ haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?” 

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily. 

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

 “Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you. 

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around. 

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod. 

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you. 

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile. 

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.” 

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. 

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple —  you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room. 

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile. 

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. 

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”

[jjkamochoso]

How do you think jjk men would court their crush? Feel free to add anyone you want but I would love to read about Choso.

OMG SO CUTE!!!! Thanks for the request and I hope you like it <3

JJK Men Courting Their Crush

A/n: okay so for this, I chose to depict most situations as their first time doing a certain courting activity with you so they’re a lil nervous and haven’t made their crush on you explicitly clear🫣 I hope that’s alright and makes sense!! And I can do a part 2 of them doing the same courtship things but with a confession, just lmk if that’s something you guys want🫶 please enjoy below!!

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji: cooking for you

“So, y/n, what do you think?”

Yuji was standing over you as you took a bite of the dish he made. Nervous energy was radiating off of him. He didn’t have much experience in the romance department but knew that usually the quickest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. He wanted to treat you to some of his favorite dishes as a way to show you that you mean a great deal to him and hopefully get to know you better over a good meal. He had prepped in the school’s kitchen all day after spending hours trying to decide which entrees you’d like the best. He thought back to the times you all went out to eat in the city and what you ordered, then thought about what recipes he knew that were similar. As he was cooking, he hoped you liked what he made enough to where he could eventually do it for you every night.

As soon as it hit your tongue, you felt the warmth of the lovingly cooked food spread through your body. You could tell he spent lots of time on this for you and you were extremely flattered that he would go out of his way to do something like this for you.

“Yuji, it’s absolutely divine. I haven’t had something this yummy in years.”

Yuji put a hand on the back of his neck, sheepish from your compliments.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I have some more recipes that I’ve been meaning to try out and you would be the perfect taste tester if you’re up for doing this often.”

Your eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! But are you sure you wouldn’t mind cooking for me that much?”

“Of course,” he said earnestly, “it’d be tons of fun. Besides, I really like hanging out with you.”

And I really like being the cause of your adorable smile! he wanted to say, but decided to save those words for another time. Chatting and laughing with you was enough for now—maybe he’d cook up enough confidence one day to tell you how he really feels about you.

Megumi: making you playlists

Megumi couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for you to meet up with him before class. You had mentioned that you wanted new songs to listen to so when you asked him for recommendations, he took the collecting of songs very seriously. He was never good with his words so maybe you’d get the hint that he had a crush on you from some of the songs he chose. He heard your steps coming down the hall and it was like he forgot how to stand and breathe like a normal human being. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied a stray rock lying on the ground to look busy.

“Hey Megumi!” you greeted, making him jump slightly. He mumbled out a “hello” and immediately dug into his backpack, a CD emerging from its inky depths.

“Well, I, uh-I didn’t know if you used Spotify or YouTube or something else but I know you mentioned having a CD player so… yeah. Here.”

He thrusted the CD into your hands without meeting your eyes. The plastic case held a disc that said “Y/n’s Playlist” in sharpie.

“Thank you so much!” you said, inspecting it, “I’ll give this a listen after class. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Megumi, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh wait, I won’t know the song names or artists when I listen to this. Wanna come over later and help me make a track list?”

Megumi felt his face burn up with a blush. “Y-yeah. That, uh, sounds great.”

He’d definitely have to make you more playlists and keep forgetting to include that pertinent information!

Yuta: complimenting you nonstop

“Y/n! I like your shirt!”

“Y/n! Great fighting form!”

“That joke was hilarious, you’re so funny, y/n!”

These were things you were used to hearing when you were around Yuta. He was always showering you with compliments, not that you were complaining. He had a major crush on you and wanted to start letting you know that he saw, appreciated, and admired you without revealing his full feelings for now. You and your classmates were training on the field and Yuta was your sparring partner.

“Wow, you really pinned me down quick! That was amazing,” Yuta said as you extended a hand to help him up.

“You’re always so sweet, thank you,” you replied. “You were really good, though, too! I’m sure you’ll get me next time. You’re super strong.”

Yuta felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was superb at giving compliments but horrible at receiving them.

“Geez, that, umm… it means a-a lot coming from you because you’re so great. Thank you.”

“Please, I’m not that cool! You’re awesome as well,” you told him.

“Yeah, but not as awesome as you!”

It seemed that you two were stuck in a never ending cycle of compliments. After a few more rounds of back and forth, you agreed that you were both cool and strong and whatever other positives you could think of. Yuta left the field in high spirits, thinking of all the creative ways he could tell you how cute you were the next time he saw you.

Inumaki: giving you flowers

Toge stood, clippers in hand, eyeing the flowers in front of him with an intensity rarely seen from the blonde. He was trying to decide on which flowers to cut to make you a bouquet. Taking flowers for personal purposes would normally be extremely frowned upon but he was the plant caretaker and figured he could get away with snipping a few here and there. He thought back to all of your previous conversations, wracking his brain for any moments you might have mentioned a favorite all those times you walked here together. He remembered you’d said you liked them all so he really couldn’t choose wrong. When he made up his mind and clipped his picks, he smiled under his pulled up collar. He walked over to your dorm, an extra pep in his step.

“Toge! Hi!” you greeted kindly as you opened your door. His collar was now pulled down and you felt your heart swell at seeing his cursed marks curled in a happy expression. You were afraid you were about to get pranked when you saw he had his hands behind his back, but your fears were quelled when he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“These are for me?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Salmon.”

“You’re the best! Thank you!”

You grabbed him into a hug, careful not to crush the flowers. He’d keep bringing you bouquets until either you got the hint that he liked you as more than a friend or he got the courage to write out his feelings.

Noritoshi: writing you letters

It was hard to make friends at the Kyoto school since your classmates were always so on edge about letting people get close, but you and Noritoshi had somehow bypassed that fear and your acquaintance turned into something deeper over the years. Unfortunately for Noritoshi, his feelings now dove even deeper than that, finding himself in the throes of a crush. Unsure of what to do, he’d tried ignoring the nagging feelings in heart every time you spoke to each other, but it never work. After much introspection and consideration, he determined that it would be wise to see if you felt the same. If you did, great. If you didn’t, he’d be released from the constant “what if’s” running through his mind. As he started putting pen to paper, he felt his confidence falter. Who pours their feelings into a letter instead of speaking face to face? Is that cowardly? He changed gears; this letter wouldn’t be of romantic intent, per se, but just of a way to get to know you better and show you he cares about what you think, how you feel, and whatever else he managed to write before his fingers failed him. When he nervously slipped the sealed paper under your dorm door a few days later, he anxiously awaited to see when you would mention it in your face to face conversation with him—you didn’t.

Imagine his surprise when he was greeted with his own letter hours later! You had expressed your delight in his letter and wanted to keep him as a consistent pen pal for the near future. Noritoshi’s hands grasped your letter, fingers tracing your words. With this new open view of each other’s hearts, your private conversations safe from prying ears, he yearned for the day he could tell you the truth of his heart before it was spilled in ink.

Todo: carrying/lifting things for you

Aoi knew you were more than capable of handling things yourself but he wanted to show you that he’d be your perfect, strong protector so he’d always offer to carry whatever you were holding, no matter how big or small. At school? He’d carry your books. Grocery shopping together? He’d lift all the heavy items in and out of the cart. Need to move your car but you’re too lazy to get up? Consider it done—he just picked it up and moved it. He hoped that by continuing to show up for you like this, you’d see how much he really likes you. Of course, he wouldn’t be afraid of speaking to you about his crush on you, but he would rather go out of his way to impress you first before stating his obvious attraction to you.

“Y/n! Let me get that for you!”

Your dorm room door was propped open and Aoi had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, when you were struggling to move some furniture around in your room. He lifted the couch with ease and shot you an award winning grin and wink.

“Just tell me where you want it.”

You pointed to a spot near the window and he put the couch down gracefully, barely making a sound.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked eagerly. He’d rearrange the layout of the entire school if you asked him to—anything to make you happy!

Gojo: buying you gifts

Satoru was not the type to outright tell someone he had a crush on them. You know, the whole “love is the greatest curse of all” thing? He’d much rather ignore those feelings in hopes of them disappearing. So when he found himself fawning over you nonstop, he didn’t know the right way to convey his desire to connect with you on a deeper level. He might’ve been running on empty in regard to romantic skills, but his bank account was severely overflowing. He began to take mental notes on everything you looked at and put back while in Tokyo during your shopping trips and visited those places to buy all of it on his own.

“I got this for you.”

Satoru had several bags by their handles that he gently nudged toward you. Confused, you opened them, greeted by multiple items that you had taken notice of but didn’t have the funds to purchase. You didn’t remember Satoru even being there when you were browsing them in the first place.

“Satoru, how did you-”

“I pay attention more than people think,” he shrugged, glad to have his blindfold covering his eyes so you couldn’t see how they softened when they met yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, trying not to cry tears of happiness.

He chuckled. “I know. You deserve nice things, though. If you can’t treat yourself, then allow me to.”

He was glad he turned infinity off to feel your arms wrap around his in a tight hug. Even if the words evaded him at the moment, he’d be sure to keep showing how much he cares for you by giving you things to remember him by.

Geto: taking you to the farmer’s market

“Come, y/n, I have a fun morning planned for us.”

Suguru had texted you and invited you to the local farmer’s market. You, of course, accepted readily, and now that he was here to pick you up, he was starting to feel a little nervous. Your friendship was a wonderful thing but Suguru craved to get to know you better and see if you shared the same romantic affections he was feeling toward you. He figured that going somewhere low key like a farmer’s market would be great to cultivate easy conversations. As you two walked together, admiring the handiwork of the local artists, you shivered from a cold breeze that kicked up. Suguru was quick to remove his outer layer and drape it over your shoulders.

“Oh, Suguru, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m alright, I promise. I’d rather be a little chilly than see you freeze on my behalf. May I buy you a warm drink as well?”

After that, you were nice and toasty and he glad he could help in any way he could. When the market was closed and you two walked back home, you decided to make a visit here an every week occurrence. Suguru was sure that in a few weeks’ time, he’d prove to you that he’d be a great partner.

Nanami: cooking with you

Kento wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of his romantic feelings toward you. He valued straightforward communication, but he couldn’t find it within himself to outright express his desires for romance right now. Instead, he opted to show you he cared by inviting you over to cook a meal together. He had asked you to pick a recipe and went shopping for all the ingredients. Now that you were finally over at his place, he felt his palms getting sweaty as saw you chopping vegetables, looking extremely cute while doing so. You gave him a sweet smile when you noticed him staring and he quickly looked away, a blush apparent on his cheeks. You dropped the veggies into the hot pan and he started cooking them. You two worked well together, never in each other’s ways and able to partake in conversation while keeping the task at hand. When dinner was ready, you were ecstatic that everything tasted delicious.

“Is it alright if I ask you to join me again sometime soon?” Kento asked.

“I would love nothing more,” you replied sweetly, his stomach now teeming with butterflies.

Choso: stargazing with you

Choso had zero experience with any type of romantic love. He was the expert in familial loyalty, a prime example of being a great big brother, but being a boyfriend? Not his forte. However, his desire to woo you outweighed his nerves so that’s what led him to call you and tell you to meet him outside one night. He read online that looking at the stars is a good way to induce romance and he was determined to prove to you that he’d be a worthy partner. You were taken aback when you saw he had set up blankets on the ground and put out picnic baskets of snacks. He had even wrapped you up in another blanket so you didn’t get cold! Once you were settled, you both chatted about anything and everything as you gazed at the wonders of the night sky.

“Choso! A shooting star, quick, make a wish!”

It was quiet for some time.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not supposed to say or else it won’t come true,” you teased, nudging his arm. “What about you?”

He was studying the sky before he looked back at you. “I wished to keep having the privilege of sitting here with you as many days as I can.”

You felt yourself go shy at his confession but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. After that, you had plans in place to meet up again in a few days to do it all over. Choso was hoping that his next wish would also come true—that he’d be confident enough to bring the true feelings of his heart to light.

Toji: inviting you to local music shows

There was nothing better to Toji than a cheap activity, an attractive person by his side, and the promise of alcohol. That’s what led him to extend an invitation to you to join him at a small concert being held by a band you both liked. When you met him outside the run down venue, Toji felt his heart rate pick up as he saw how good you looked. His calm and collected demeanor didn’t change a bit, though, as he lazily threw an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside.

“This place is super cool, Toji,” you said, taking in your surroundings.

He smirked. “I knew you’d like it. Wanna get something to drink?”

Toji wasn’t known for having tons of money but he liked you enough to pay for the first round of your drinks. As the band finished setting up their equipment and started playing their first song, you had a blast dancing along while he kept stealing glances at you between sips of his drink, relieved that you were having fun. You were able to convince him to dance with you after a few more drinks (not that the drinks affected his decision making—he just couldn’t deny a request from someone as hot as you). As the night wound down and he walked you home, he felt an excitement spark in his heart that he hadn’t known in a long time. He hoped that one day he’d stop being a coward and tell you he really liked you, but for now, he’d be content just holding you in his arms—and definitely keeping an eye out for flyers with information for the next show.

[atlaculture]

What food from their 'cultures' do you think the gang would like? Real life food

Oh, this will be a fun question to answer! I'll make this an ongoing series for as many characters as I can think of.

Favorite Foods: Aang

Seeing as Aang has always loved traveling the world on Appa, he strikes me as someone who prefers food he can easily carry and eat while in the air. He's more a snack guy than a meal guy, is what I'm saying. He's also shown to be very fond of egg custard tarts and fruit pies, so I assume he also really likes rich desserts. With these considerations in mind, here's Aang's food board:

Momos - Tibetan stuffed dumplings. They're easy to carry around and eat on the go. Plus, they share a name with everyone's favorite flying lemur. I think Aang's favorite momo filling would be cheese with mushrooms or veggies.

Shom-Dae - Tibetan rice pudding. It's made by mixing fresh steamed rice with yogurt and sugar. Tibetan yogurt is made from yak milk, so it's very rich in fat content. Yogurt is so beloved in Tibet that it even has its own festival there, called Sho Dun.

Bhatsa Marku - A cheesy dessert pasta from Tibet. The primary ingredients are gnocchi-like noodles, dried yak cheese, butter, and sugar. I've also seen non-dessert versions comprised of the gnocchi noodles with mushrooms and butter. I think Aang would love both.

Chhurpi - A rock-hard cheese traditional to the Himalayas. It's typically a yak cheese that has been smoked and dried to remove all the moisture content. This allows it to be easy to carry and transport, as it can remain mold-free and edible for up to 20 years. One cube of chhurpi can be chewed on for hours, as it takes quite a while for the cheese to soften in the mouth.

Ngarchur - A dried Tibetan sweet cheese made from boiled yogurt. Like chuurpi, it's keeps well and is easy to transport, although it's not hard.

Khapse - Tibetan fried dough. Depending on how you shape the dough, it can be crunchy like chips or soft like youtiao.

Sanga Balep - A crispy Tibetan pastry covered in powdered sugar. Not much to say other than it looks really satisfying to eat.

I also have a series on possible Air Nomad cuisine here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[meanbossart]

im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!

So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.

Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.

BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!

Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.

Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)

Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.

Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.

Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.

Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.

Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.