#but at the same time idk how to fix this without any help?? like what else could i do to fix this... anything else i can put up with or

[joelmillerisapunk]

MILLLLAAAAAA I have not known peace since reading this

First of all, the tension. The history. The forbidden desire just simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. Every single moment had me gripping my phone like it owed me money.

The fact that they had all this unresolved emotion and then bam—thrown into the most intimate scene imaginable??

This was SO intense, so raw, so emotional—and the way it all came back to them in the end??? Like, she wrote the script for him. She was always going to find her way back to him.

I am never recovering from this. EVER I am crying in the club, hiding in the bathroom, sobbing into my pillow. okay favorite parts timeeeee - and this is my live reaction so excuse every emotional rollercoaster I hit here....

-> WAHHHHHH FJSDKJSDKLJF already killing me goddamnit He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. It could only be you. That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.that’s fucked up, Will*Will calling* -> OKAYY I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO CRY ALREADY HUH? “It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

-> WHAAAA I CANT DO THIS I CANT BUT I WILL IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more. He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again. Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.” -> she is so relatable omfg I would be doing the same You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal.  -> SOBBING EXCUSE ME SIR? WTF YOU DOING SHAKING HER OFF LIKE THAT NO SIR NO SIR So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up.

-> my good goddddd im dying over here i am not okay sos help me He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

->idk Milla, i think you write the most beautiful things and you really wanna make my heart fall out of my ribcage. The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

-> ooooof THIS IS BUILDING UP OMG OMG OMG SMDFKSDA “Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally. “Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

-> stab me it might hurt less than this In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

THE ENTIRE INTIMATE SCENE HOLY SMOKES IM DIZZYYYY

-> I have no thoughts just thots my brain empty but this is delicious “I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,”

AND THE END AHHH IM SOBBING

Close-up

8k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. ex lovers reunited, angst, mostly Joel pov, Joel can act cold out of defence mechanism, he has trouble accepting his own feelings, pining, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby), semi public sex, just the tip, soft!joel, oral (f), piv, creampie. Pic for mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. 

a/n:  this is written for @jolapeno 's dear-uary challenge (prompt here) thank you for this challenge Jo, and it was such a cool prompt 😍😍😍 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for reading this one soooo many times 🥹😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

I sent you a script, tell me what you think tell me more just read it, trust me

The informal messages between Joel and his agent, Will, were usual. They had known each other for a long time, they were friends, and Will had always found him perfect roles. 

So as always, Joel trusted him- even though the first page of the script, delivered to him by a courier, was not completely filled, making him wonder why. 

In the evening he put his cup on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa, a soft light lamp behind his head. With his back leaning against the cushions, shirt, jeans, bare feet. Always the same ritual, always the same setup, when he was about to read a new script.

He started reading it, taking a sip of coffee from time to time, until his heart leapt in his chest as he got to a particular scene. 

He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. 

It could only be you. 

That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.

that’s fucked up, Will

*Will calling*

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he picked up, without even trying to hide his feelings, then he got up to pace the room.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, Joel. But she’s a great writer and actress, you know it. We’ve been looking for a good drama movie for a long time. This one’s perfect.”

“It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

“Joel, listen to me and think about it. No one would know. And it can be therapeutic.”

“Thera… jesus, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Joel sighed as he hung up and threw his phone on the couch. 

Why the fuck would Will do something so stupid and inconsiderate, giving him a script from you? 

At the beginning of his career, his agent sent him one project for a movie in which you were expected to play too. Joel confessed that you two had been together, and added “you don’t bring her up. Ever,” to end the conversation. So Will never did. 

Until today.

He sat back down on the sofa, resting his forehead on his fist, resisting the urge to throw the cup of coffee across the room. He was surprised by his own reaction, his nervousness. His anger. Barely able to control his emotions, he felt so weak, like his heart was about to tear in two again, swallowing him whole. He was affected, years later, as if it happened yesterday.

So, sure, a long time ago he asked Will not to talk about you anymore. But they might have been  friends, his agent might have known about you, but he didn’t know the details. Didn’t know how profoundly the break up had hurt Joel, how much you had gotten under his skin, back then.

And in Will's defense, it wasn't like you never saw each other again, at parties or ceremonies, under Will’s gaze who thought that it wasn't that bad, after all. It was years after your separation, now having the job that both of you dreamed about, talked about, sweaty young adults in a messy bed where he had just made you come.

Will wasn't aware that it was actually that bad. 

Because he didn’t know the way Joel looked at you, when you were together. He didn't know how sweet and caring Joel was with you. He didn’t know how much he loved wrapping his arms around you, and having you curl up against him. 

He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more.

He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again.

Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.”

The first time you saw each other again, was in a place full of actors, agents, writers and directors.

You couldn't believe he was here, a few steps away from you. Of course, you knew you'd cross paths one day, but suddenly he was closer to you than he had been in years and you felt your heart racing. He was even more handsome than he was back then, if it was even possible. You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. 

But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal. 

So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. 

It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up. 

If you had looked up right away, you would have seen guilt sweep through his eyes. But when you finally raised your head, seconds later, he was on the other side of the room. The only thing you could see was his back, which he undoubtedly presented to you deliberately, as if his glare hadn’t been enough to make a point.

All evening, you struggled to keep conversations going, to concentrate, to think of anything other than his dark stare, furrowed brows, and the way he shook his head at you without any hesitation. For years, you had been wondering what he had thought of you, after those years. You just got the most brutal answer to that question. 

The second time, a journalist had done some research and discovered that you attended the same university, graduated the same year. He took the opportunity to bring the subject as Joel was walking by. He probably hadn't seen you amongst all those people, because you were sure he would have gone the other way, otherwise. You didn’t have much choice than to kiss, feigning a friendly closeness that had never existed between you. You had been lovers, then strangers. No in-between. 

His scent, so familiar, invaded your nostrils. He always wore the same perfume, the one you had given him for a birthday. It surprised you but you didn't have much time to think about it, as he ended the hug quickly.

Joel's eyes were shifty when you looked at him, a fake smile plastered on his lips. Which could probably seem real for people who didn't know him, but not for you. Not even years later. You answered the journalist's questions as best as you could, until Joel leaned towards to give you a hug that was as neutral as his eyes on you, cutting off the questions. Then he walked away, leaving you facing the journalist who was delighted with the exclusive material and oblivious to the unspoken scene that had happened in front of him.

Joel thought back to those two evenings, after he’d hung up on Will and before he’d put the script away in a drawer. He needed to regain control of his emotions, and to do that he couldn't continue reading your words, at least for now.

He went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and despite him trying, his mind wandered to lazy mornings where he would get up to make two coffees and then come back to the bedroom. He’d put them on the nightstand, before cuddling up to your warm body under the sheets, hearing you moan gently. Sometimes you would fall asleep in one of his shirts, and he loved smelling his scent on you, as if you were marked by him, somehow. It always made him feral, possessive. He didn’t know he had that side in him, until you.

You'd always grab his hand to kiss the tip of his fingers, before sliding them along your folds, feeling his cock harden against your ass and your pussy starting to drool. He would make you come with his digits, his lips against your ear, caged in his arms, then he'd slide his cock between your thighs and your soaked folds, just in time for your last spasms to squeeze his tip. Sometimes he would keep fucking you like that, lying behind you, and sometimes he would roll you on your back, taking his place between your thighs. Until he’d come, grunting, growling, his hair disheveled, and you often fall back asleep, his cock softening inside you, the cups of coffee cold on the nightstand.

He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning he woke up groggy. He put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, poured himself a cup of coffee, and put aside his good resolutions. He didn’t need the script to think about you, anyway. Time never healed his wounds, he never forgot you or the pain he had felt when you’d left. His thoughts were always hurtful, possessive and raw.

Even years after the break up he couldn’t help but think about you when his wrist fucked his shaft. Even sometimes when he was in a relationship. He hated himself for that but couldn’t help it. He missed your cunt, your hands, everything. But he couldn’t accept the idea that he was simply missing you. 

He always thought that your bodies were made for each other, and you always breathed the same words. He knew you meant it, his cock buried in you, his eyes fixed on yours rolling to the back of your head and his ears filled with your moans, barely able to tell his name.  

Until it was over. 

He knew it could happen, you always told him that you'd have to leave for California one day in hope to live your dream, that you couldn’t do it in Texas. But he brushed it off, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to think about it. He hid it in a corner of his mind, until he had no other choice but to face reality. Until it hit him. That day, he realized that he wouldn’t get to wrap his arms around you for the rest of his life.

He lay down on the couch and started to read. And the more he read the script, the more he realized that you wrote only the moments that had really happened. 

The story, background, was slightly different, probably so that no one could ever make a connection to the two of you. But the moments were real, and it made him dizzy.

You wrote that dance in your small apartment, first for the both of you, that you rented after graduation. You worked as a waitress and Joel was a barista, and you two went to as many castings in Austin as you could, dreaming every day about being actors.

That night you put on some music and danced. He kissed your hand and looked at you. He felt warm. He loved you so much that his heart was aching. He made you spin and you laughed, and it was like a spring breeze in the apartment, filling his lungs with fresh air. When you stopped twirling you brushed his hair and then kissed him. 

The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

Over the next two days, he took the script out of the drawer regularly. Slowly touching the paper that already bore the marks of repeated handling, him  lying on his couch, taking his time before opening it. 

He read it all, and the sweetness, the sensitivity with which you described your moments moved him profoundly. The person he had loved, cherished, cradled in his arms, wrote that. 

All the intimacy, the love and care you both felt for each other were there. For several years he made everything to forget the good moments, to focus only on the ending to feed his bitterness, but the fact was that there had been so many beautiful moments. And he could read them, feel them again. Couldn’t deny them anymore.

Your words were so familiar, so true to your love story, that his anger slowly gave some place to something else: nostalgia. Finally allowing himself to miss you and what you two had. He was still wondering why you had written the script and sent it to him, but now he was ready to learn the answer. And he wanted to look you in the eye when he’d ask you this question. But he wasn't sure how he’d behave, when you met. Didn't know if bitterness or nostalgia would fill his heart.

So after two days of silence, Joel picked up his phone and sent Will a message.

Ok, set up a meeting

Because of your busy schedules you could meet only in two weeks. The delay was driving him crazy. 

He made a copy of the script, his copy, which he filled with annotations, dates. Underlining moments or words erased from his mind, out of grief, anger or self-protection.

He got hard several times, while reading some scenes. And sometimes anger would come back to creep into his thoughts, whispering to him that you never should have sent it to him, when your separation had been so painful for him. 

And Will was not the only one Joel said “you don’t…. ever.”

To you, it’d been “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.”

That morning, as he got used to doing several times a day, he grabbed his copy of the script. He had handled it so much that the sheets were already damaged, some pages peppered with annotations. 

As he was reading, he remembered how you had loved to run your fingers over his jeans when you were watching a movie on your little couch. Playing with him, your hand going higher and higher, just to hear his breathing slow down, just to hear him murmur a needy and low “sweetheart, what are you doing?”, making you smile widely. Knowing that he would manhandle you two seconds later to be under him, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his thick length into you. He remembered the feeling of your breasts against his chest, how you whimpered in his neck while he was fucking you hard and deep. 

He was nervous the morning of the meeting. He took a shower, hoping to get rid of the fatigue and headache from the lack of sleep the night before. He put on a shirt and jeans and grabbed his car keys, put on some music when he started to drive, trying to change his mind, but it didn’t work, he was still anxious. He parked near the building. Once inside he found the meeting room and knocked on the door. He heard you say “come in” and took a deep breath before twisting the handle.

You were alone, sitting in a chair, and he quickly pushed aside the thought of how pretty you were. Joel immediately noticed your hands, pressed together nervously, before you stood up to greet him. He stopped when you walked towards him and your smile faded like that time.

“Wait,” he said, his hand raised in front of him, as he was trying to control his emotions. “I just… Why did you send it to me?” he added without any preamble, his tone harsher than he intended. 

“Oh… ok. Straight to the point, huh?” you said, sitting back down, and removing an imaginary crease on your sleeve, eyes lowered to the desk.

“I never…” you started to say, before stopping and taking a breath. “I think I needed to write our story down.” 

Joel’s sigh stopped you. You tried to keep a low and calm tone, not to show your anxiety. You knew that facing him wouldn't be easy. He had given you a glimpse of his coldness after the situation with that journalist.

“Joel, please, listen to me.” 

You looked at him, and yet you had no idea how his name, escaping your lips, tore his heart apart. He never thought he’d hear it again, and the familiar intonation made him shiver.

“I honestly think it would make a great movie,” you said. “And you must think so too, since you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. Except that I want to know why.”

“Would you have preferred to discover it once the movie was out, your role played by someone else?”

His gaze on you, dark and possessive, made you freeze.

“No, I really wouldn’t have appreciated our story, my life, played by someone else, Jesus,” he growled.

He put his hands on his hips, a stance you’d seen him do dozens of times before, searching for words, and then he sat in a chair, pinching the place just above his nose with two fingers. Trying to stop the headache that was threatening to come again. It had started off badly, and he knew it was his fault. He was too stubborn, too cold.

“Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally.

“Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

“You?” 

A part of him, that he thought was gone the day you had left, woke up with a groan. He couldn't imagine the movie being made, you playing... well, you, and him being played by another man. It was unthinkable and made his jealousy and possessiveness stir painfully in his chest.

Unlike you, he hadn't watched your movies. He tried though, when he saw your face on a movie poster for the first time. He went to the cinema, but he walked out of the theater the moment that actor leaned toward you to kiss you. He couldn't stand to see someone kiss you, when he couldn't do it anymore.

“I’m the best person to play this character, aren’t I?” you said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “Just like you’re the best one to play the male lead. Look, I know you’ve been rumored for a role like this for years. I know you’re not opposed to it. So why not?”

“Because it’s not about playing a role here,” he sighed. “It’s playing in front of a camera, things we said, did, years ago. Intimate things that belong to us.”

“I changed some things, no one has to know it’s autobiographical,” you started to say, before he quickly cut you off. 

“I know it is. And so do you.” He walked over to the window to stare at the buildings in front of him. “When you leave someone, you don’t do that. It’s unhealthy,” he said, almost softly. Resigned. He turned to you before adding, “Why stir up something that died years ago?”

He didn't expect to face the sadness that clouded your face, and once again guilt seized him. You were sad, upset, and despite the bitterness he’d been feeling for years, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore,” you answered, standing up and walking towards him. You stopped a few steps away to respect his boundaries, before you'd see his body stiff. “I left because I had to follow my dream, and it wasn’t working in Texas. And you wanted to stay in Austin, to take care of Tommy. We ended it because a long-distance relationship would have been too painful, because I didn’t want us to be unhappy, barely seeing each other, not being able to feel each other often enough. So I left. And I told you all that. You knew it, you knew why.”

You took a breath, after formulating what was oppressing your heart, waiting for him to answer.

“Playing with feelings is dangerous,” he said in a low voice.

“This isn’t a game, Joel. I'm not playing. I’m sure it would make a great movie. And maybe we need to express all that, even years later.”

“Do you remember what I told you that day? The last day?”

“Of course, I do. You told me not to call you. You told me that if we had to meet again… then it would happen. Well, it's happening, Joel.”

He looked at you, confused, and headed towards the door, brushing past you lightly as he passed. 

Just before leaving, without looking at you, he said in a low voice, “my agent will give you my answer in a few days.” 

Once the door closed behind Joel, you remembered the day you left. 

In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

At that moment you were wondering if you had made a mistake. You kept wondering for years. To be honest, you still weren’t sure you made the right choice that day. You followed your dream and succeeded, but it cost you the love of your life.

You didn't know what to think about the meeting. It could have been worse, he could have left after two minutes of being there, you knew it. You could have said more, too, but you didn't want Joel to withdraw more into himself. And for sure, you couldn't have told him that you always thought of him when you were in someone’s else’s arms. That you tried not to let jealousy invade you when you thought of his personal life, knowing that you had no right to be. You gave up on that when you had left.

You knew what he thought, how he reacted. Now he needed time to process everything, and you just had to wait for his agent to contact you. You couldn't do more.

Joel got to his car in a blur. He realized where he was only sitting behind the wheel, too many emotions swirling in his head. Years without seeing you and it had gone by at the speed of light. He blamed himself for being cold, blamed himself for not being cold enough, and he was even more lost than before he saw you. He started to drive, the feeling of having mishandled things weighing more and more on his shoulders.

He took another shower when he got home, as if it could wash off his remorse and regrets, the words exchanged playing over and over in his mind.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I had to follow my dream. You wanted to stay in Austin. To take care of Tommy.”

“You knew it, you knew why.”

Did he really start to believe that the events had happened differently, after you left? Had he really done it, to the point of omitting certain things, because he needed someone to blame, to keep moving forward? 

Had he really been that guy? Blaming you when there was no one to blame, just life and the choices that go with it, that we all have to do?

Had he really denied for years that you had left with a broken heart, too? That he had told you to never call him, after those wonderful years together? He felt like he was waking up with a monstrous hangover, and guilt gripped him. Truth is he let you down, and reality was hitting him hard.

Because you were right, you didn’t leave just like that. He didn’t want to acknowledge it for years, kept sweeping it under the rug, but deep down he didn’t forget it. 

And you were right, he hadn’t been able to prioritize your relationship. Couldn’t prioritize himself either. He had always been protective of his brother, but it reached another level when he came back to Texas after being dismissed. Tommy wasn't the same, and Joel knew that he would have constantly wondered if his brother was okay if he had left for California with you. Worried that he could be in jail after a fight, with no one to bail him out. Or that he could be drunk in an alley, alone, spending the night there. Or worse.

“I can’t leave Tommy here alone, with all his drinking and partying,” he told you, expression determined.

“But you need to think about your future, our future too, Joel,” you replied desperately.

Joel had probably hoped that you wouldn’t have left, that you’d have chosen him, until the end. And you probably hoped the same thing, too. 

Right person, wrong time. Fucking sad, but so banal.

So to forget that he was as responsible for the breakup as much as you were, he let his pain turn into anger, and he never let nostalgia set in, or his feelings show up. 

And everything blew up when you sent him that script and he started reading it. It was impossible to continue to deny the obvious, to keep thinking that his feelings were stronger than yours and that’s why you had left. It was impossible to forget that he had told you, “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.” That he was the one who had cut everything off, once and for all. To protect himself, of course. But still.

So once you were gone, he did what he had to do, he took care of Tommy. Except that he started going to bars with him, at night. Drinking less than him, but still way too much. He took sleeping pills when he was obsessed with your absence, tired of squeezing your pillow way too tight in his fist, his jaw clenched with anger. He moved to a new neighborhood because he couldn't stand living in that apartment anymore where everything reminded him of you. 

When they were children and then teenagers, Joel and Tommy’s father taught them to work with their hands, and it helped them to find jobs on construction sites. And that he finally pulled himself together and helped Tommy the way he had to. It took him months, but he did it, and his parents would be proud of him, of them, if they saw their sons.

He worked hard, kept doing castings when his work allowed it, and eventually it paid off, even if it took time.

He thought about it all, and realized he needed to see you again before deciding on the movie. Needed to behave normally, to let go of his mask. So he asked his agent your number, then texted you:

it’s Joel. Are you still in LA?  I have some questions about the script can we meet again?  I am. When do you wanna meet? tomorrow night, my place? I’ll cook Sure!

He took a deep breath as he sent you his address. He let his emotions take over on purpose, to dispel the bitter taste in his mouth since you saw each other. Now he had to trust them.

The next day he started to cook during the afternoon, the dish that he hoped was still one of your favorite. He knowingly chose to invite you over to his place, to keep his mind occupied at least while he was busy in the kitchen. 

Once the dish was in the oven, he did a running session on his treadmill and showered. 

Anything to keep his mind busy.

You arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand.

“You still like the white?” you asked.

He did. Some things never changed.

As you approached the kitchen it smelled so good that you stopped there.

“Still one of your favorite meals?” he asked.

It was. 

You tried not to show that you were moved. Acts of service had always been his way of showing that he cared, and you weren’t expecting that when you showed up.

You sat down on a high stool in the kitchen and he opened the bottle of wine. You had a few sips, silently. Neither of you really knew what to say, at first. Then everything set into place, naturally, instinctively. A little shyly at first, bringing up things from your respective pasts, or present. You asked him how Tommy was doing, and he told you he was fine, that he was engaged to a woman named Maria and that they were going to be parents soon. You were happy for Tommy, sincerely. You had always liked him.

Joel was trying to act normally, to not pay too much attention to the ease with which you were chatting. How easily he opened up to you, telling you about his years in Austin, then his first ones in LA. His first roles, his doubts.

He was glancing at your hands when you weren’t looking at him. At your hair. 

He loved to see your eyes shine when you were talking about something that was important to you.

But above all, he loved to see them sparkle the first time he made you smile, that evening. It hit him, how much he missed it. Making you smile. 

His emotions were so familiar that his heart was beating a little too fast, like a horse freed from its reins.

And suddenly he wondered how he had been able to spend so many years without you by his side, when you had always been his sunshine, liberating his grumpy, reserved nature. 

A part of his brain told him that he was smiling a little too much, but he felt more alive during those moments with you than he hadn’t been in so long. 

Whether in a relationship or not.

And then he felt the atmosphere change, felt that you got nervous, an impression confirmed when you began to scratch your thumb. A habit that dated back years ago, and he'd always take you in his arms, kiss your thumb and tell you that he was there and that everything would be okay. Today, for the first time he couldn’t do all that.

“Are you ok?” he nevertheless allowed himself to ask.

“Yeah, it’s just… listen, I know you wanted to ask me about the script, but ehm... there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before adding “there won’t be any movie if you don’t want to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not saying this to put pressure on you, it's just… I just want you to know that your choice is completely free. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, for whatever bad reason.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me this, thank you,” he said, in a tone you couldn’t quite define, half defeated, half tender. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Joel?” you asked questioningly.

“Yesterday. I didn’t really know how to handle all of it. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since I read the script. Including anger.” He didn't expect to tell you that, but the need was too much to bear. He needed to make things right.

“I know. I expected it to be complicated, after our two previous meetings,” you said, without animosity or bitterness. Just being factual.

He raised his eyebrows, as if to apologize, before continuing. “I wanted to apologize for that too. My attitude.”

“That’s your way of handling things, it always has been, I should have known. But I appreciate it too, thanks Joel.”

He nodded, then added “do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Work together. To be coworkers on a movie?”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you took the time to think before answering.

“Well… the evening’s going pretty well, right? You haven't shook your head at me yet, to show me the door.”

“Ouch!” he replied exaggeratedly.

“Too soon?” you asked, lips curled into a smile.

“A little,” he laughed.

He enjoyed it, that little moment. You’d had so many of them before. 

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” he wanted to ask. 

“Aren’t you afraid of reliving things, that I’ll fall madly in love with you again and that the scenes we’ll shoot, my acting, will just express the reality of my feelings?” 

But he couldn’t ask you that.

He wanted to ask you if you had sent him the script because you still had feelings for him, but he couldn’t say that either.

“It’ll be a low budget movie. I mean, if we do it,” you said. There’ll be some outdoor scenes but not that many. Not many other actors either. It won’t be a long shoot.”

He nodded and said, “can I give you my answer in a couple of days?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Thanks for the meal, it was delicious,” you said as you stood up. “You can text me if you have any questions.”

He thanked you and you complimented him on his house as you put your coat back on. His taste hadn’t changed. The rooms were simply decorated. As you walked toward the front door you glanced inside one of the rooms, and saw a table with a wooden sculpture on it.

“Oh my god, Joel? You still do the carving?”

“Oh… well… yeah. I never stopped.”

“Can I?” you asked.

“Sure,” he opened the door and you slipped through the gap, brushing past him lightly as you passed and you had goosebumps at the familiar scent. Still the perfume you had gifted him once. Reassuring. After all these years, instantly, it was there. Enveloping you. 

You approached the table and leaned over a piece he was working on, admiring the figurine that was being carved. A rodeo cowboy on a bucking horse.

“Wow, Joel… you were already very good at this back then, but now it’s incredible. The level of detail is mind-blowing.”

You looked at the shelves, covered with other sculptures. You approached them: bears, deer, wolves, rabbits.

“This is really amazing, you’re so talented. And… Do you still play guitar?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding at a guitar case. “I usually play in the dining room. My guitars are over there. This one needed a little TLC. I just got it back. It’s… well it’s the one you gave me.”

You looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“You kept it?” you asked, trying to hold back your emotions.

“ ‘ course I did.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you said. “Tell me about the movie, ok?” You looked at him hesitantly, but when he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around your torso, your eyes closed at the feeling, so familiar, before you pulled away, told him good night and left.

Driving your car, you replayed the images of the evening in your mind. Of course, you had felt his gaze on you several times during the evening. And sometimes you could see Joel again. Your Joel.

Did he think about you as much as you thought about him? Did he suspect that you had sent him this script in the hope of getting back in touch with him? Did he know how much you missed him, all those years?

You had wondered so many times if he had been thinking about you. You thought about the hug, as comforting as before. You missed him so much.

Two days later, he texted you

“I’m in”

He kept looking at his phone after sending the message. The read indicator appeared quickly, then the writing bubble.

“Great, I'm so glad! I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing!!”

He hoped it would be. Hoped it wasn’t a mistake. 

He had to leave LA for several weeks for a shooting, and the organization of the film was put in place.

You sent each other a few messages in the next few days. Then the messages became more and more regular, while remaining purely friendly.

Several months later, the day before the shooting started, he knocked on your trailer to say hello.

You had rehearsed some scenes with the crew, and everything was ready.

The less emotional scenes were shot in the first few days. He didn’t ask for it, but he was glad. Every night he came back to his trailer, played the guitar, and thought about you. 

Seeing you every day was a very strange thing that he had trouble to define. He was happy to see you every day, to see the person you had become. And sad that you were no longer his. Filming these moments with you was like constantly reopening a wound that had never really healed.

That night, he took out the script, and reread the scene planned the next day.

EXT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He parks downstairs at their apartment, it’s dark. He knows she’s back from a week at her parents’. He’s eager to get home and see her again, he’s missed her. He quickly climbs the outside stairs and unlocks the door. INT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He puts his keys on the hall cabinet, takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. We follow him as he walks in the apartment, until he sees her in the doorway of the dining room. He smiles, we see love in their eyes as look at other. HER Hey baby He goes to her, they kiss, he takes her in his arms. She closes her eyes. HIM I missed you, baby. He brushes her cheek with his thumb. HER I missed you too. She takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom.

He stopped reading there, before the next scene, that was the most intimate, the one that made him anxious just to think about.

“I missed you, baby,” he said the line. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. His eyes were fixed in yours. He wondered if he was imagining what he was reading in them.

“I missed you too.”

You took his hand and you headed out of the frame.

“Cut, it was perfect, guys! Go get ready for the next scene.”

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He felt dizzy.

You were both wearing underwear and bathrobes. Waiting to shoot the scene.

“Ok guys, you’re ready? Great, let’s go.”

The scene was a close-up of both of your faces during a sex scene, at night. You lay down on the bed first, after taking off your robe. He took off his too and lay down between your thighs.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” you smiled.

“Action!”

You started to kiss, tongues quickly brushing against each other. His hands cupped your cheeks as he rolled his hips towards you slowly, careful that your crotches wouldn’t touch. 

It was overwhelming to feel you against him, your breasts against his chest, with only your bra between the two of you. It was a whirling moment, to kiss you in such an intimate scene, playing something that you had lived for real before. He groaned and slid his hand to the back of your neck to hold you as close as possible against him.

He felt you shift slightly, turning your hips to face his. He wanted to ask you what you were doing but he couldn���t. He was half hard from the moment he laid against you but now his cock was hard as steel. You pushed your pelvis forward and the tip of his cock nestled at your entrance, pointing against his boxers.

He could feel your wet panties through the fabrics.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you recited your line, and he growled.

He couldn’t believe you would act like that while shooting a scene, couldn't believe you were using him.

He pulled away to look at you and you murmured an unscripted “please.” Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded slightly. His fat head found its way, and his tip pushed your panties in.

It was hot, filthy, forbidden. So unprofessional, but he couldn’t stop. He recognized your moans, and the small team around you probably thought it was perfectly faked, when it was music in his ears. The music he thought he would never hear again. 

Your hands tightened on his biceps as you came. So quickly. He felt your walls squeezing his tip and he almost forgot to move, forgot the script, forgot you were shooting a scene. He pulled out, afraid he would come too, and faked his orgasm, neck tense and veins bulging, your hands caressing his hair at the back of his neck.

You said the next line “I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I love you too,” was his.

“Cut!! That was amazing, great job!!”

There was a pounding on your trailer door as you got out of the shower. You quickly threw on a bathrobe and went to open it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled.

“Keep your voice low Joel, damn… Come in.”

You closed the door behind him, searching for the right words, pressing your hands together. 

“I, huh…” you stammered.

“No! No, talk to me. Tell me. You can’t… you can’t do that and stay silent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he chuckled.

“Having you so close to me, against me… I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.”

“Everyone could have seen, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the point, Joel! And they didn’t see, anyway.”

“Jesus christ you can't do that. You can’t just use me like that.”

“I know, Joel. I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“What?”

You sighed, and that time he didn't try to rush you. You felt him soften, giving you time to find your words.

“I miss you, Joel.”

“No, don't…  Please, don’t say that.”

“I missed you the second I left and it never stopped.”

Hearing the tone of your voice and reading your eyes, this time he had no doubt that you really meant it. And he felt all the tensions in his body relax, as if he were freed from everything that had been oppressing him for years. You approached him slowly, eyes raised to his, and you slid your hand into his, and his large palm gently closed over it. You caressed his cheek with the other, and for a moment he shut his eyes, pressing his face against your hand.

“I miss you,” you said again and he rested his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, before kissing your lips softly. He heard your breathing hitch for a moment, then you moaned slightly as you pulled away, just to look at him, Joel, not the actor, for the first time in years. He pulled you closer to him and brushed his tongue over your lips, as if asking for permission to push inside. Greedily, you slid yours to his, licking his tongue and lips, until he crashed his mouth against yours. His hands rested on your waist while yours moved up his back, pressing your bodies together. You whined when you felt his hard cock pressed to you.

You pulled away from him again, just to look at his face, and he wanted to pinch himself, just to be sure you were not some dream that would leave him disillusioned and alone when he woke up.

You took his hand and led him to your room.

“Undress me,” you said.

He pulled on the knot of your bathrobe slowly, making the two sides of the garment part, revealing the curve of your breasts that he caressed with his fingertips.

Your chest rose quickly as your eyes were plunged into each other, until he lowered them to your pussy. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he was afraid it would explode.

He raised his gaze to yours, silently asking if you were okay.

“Yes,” you said. As if you knew he would want to hear it, that a nod wouldn't be enough.

He slipped his hands under the fabric of the robe and slid it down your shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving you naked. So vulnerable, and yet you were the strongest woman he ever knew, following your dream by leaving for a city where you didn't know anyone. And made your dream come true.

But now you were here, in front of him. So pretty, so sure of yourself, of your desires.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled you back, guiding you with his hands on your hips as he kissed you, until the back of your knees touched the bed.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said. The nickname was so familiar in his mouth, so normal. You did as he asked, moving back until your head rested on the pillow as he watched you, still standing at the end of the bed. Then he took off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans and got rid of them and his boxers.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Haven't felt better in a long time, actually.”

“Me too,” he added, laying on the bed, his hand caressing your inner thighs that he kissed, then he spread them with his hands.

He ran his thumb over your folds, covering it in your wetness until he reached your clit and gently rolled it under his finger. You moaned, spreading your thighs wider. 

He leaned down, his shoulders taking possession of the space between your thighs, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. He licked a long stripe from your drooling hole to your clit, then placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pressing your knees against the sheets, and you willingly let him do it, your hands sliding into his hair. He pushed his tongue into your cunt, growling against your folds. He never thought he would taste you again and an overwhelming feeling was running through his whole body. You were leaking into his mouth, down his throat and he pressed you against him, greedy for what you were giving him as your hips rolled towards him. His nose brushed perfectly against your clit, like it always did before. You clung to his hair as your moans were getting louder and louder.

"I'm so close, Joel," you murmured, hands lost in his curls. "Please, baby, please." 

“Take what you need, use me, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m coming, fuck!”

He didn't let go of you, leaving his tongue buried in your pussy and his nose against your clit, gripping  your waist with his hands, as if they were in their natural place, your flesh welcoming them.

“Joel…” you whimpered.

“Another one, please, baby. Let me give you another one, ok?”

“I’m not sure if I can… I don’t know if I can,” you panted.

“Lemme try, ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered.

His tongue left your pussy, licking your puffy folds before teasing your swollen clit. His middle finger slid along your folds before he pushed it in you gently, immediately adding a second digit. His fingers pumped into you, making your wetness flow down to the sheets. He kept you pressed against the mattress, as he had done so many times, drunk on your taste and smell. His cock ached but he resisted the urge to grind himself against the bed, afraid of not being able to hold back and come on them.

“I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,” he added, still pumping your drooling cunt with his thick fingers, then licking and sucking your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whined, just before you came on his diggits, clit pulsing against his tongue.

He crawled over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and smashed his lips against yours, your wimpers now disappearing between them.

“I wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you breathed against his lips, but he shook his head. 

“Sweetheart… I'd love it too but I’m gonna come the second you’ll take me in your mouth,” he said. “And I really need to feel you around my cock. All the way this time, not just the tip. You’re ok with that, baby?”

“Of course, need to feel you too.”

“Damn you’re so pretty,” he said, and kissed you.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, the tip leaking, swollen and red, and nestled it at your entrance, pausing there for a moment before thrusting in. 

“Oh fuck…” you whined, making him stop.

“No, no no, don’t stop, I’m ok. Need all of you, please,” you whimpered.

Like years ago, he would give you everything you needed from him. So he didn't stop until he bottomed out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling his balls tightening, ready to explode. He was struggling so hard not to come, but his breath was hitching with every thrust since he felt your pussy around him. 

You kissed, hips rolling towards each other softly and slowly. He loved to feel you around him again, and again he thought that your bodies were made for each other. He was sure of it more than ever. He slid his arms under your shoulders and you licked his neck, right at his pulsating point, then kissed the thin and delicate skin crossed by its veins.

“I won’t last, baby, I’m sorry…” he panted.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

“It doesn’t matter, fill me, Joel, please, just like before,” you begged, making him grawl, and he placed his thumb against your clit. It was enough to give you soon another climax and you pulsed around his shaft, digging your fingers into his skin as you came once again. He thrusted in a few times before burying himself, balls deep in your cunt, and shot his cum into your core, filling it to the last drop, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart….”

“I know,” you breathed. “Just like before.” 

For a few minutes both of you were panting loudly, waiting to catch your breath.

Then you caressed his cheek and he kissed you until he pulled away and lay down facing you.

“Come here, baby,” he said, welcoming you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, the way he always liked it so much. You stayed like that for a few minutes without talking. He just wanted to feel you against him, to hear you breathe slowly, to feel your skin against his. 

“I should have left with you,” he said suddenly.

You straightened up to look at him then said softly, “hey, no, don’t… Don’t hurt yourself by thinking that. You did what you had to do, and so did I. And we met again, like you said back then,” you added, and kissed him, then curled up in his arms again.

“We did,” he agreed, brushing your hair delicately. “So, that script?” he asked. “Was it to… like… get me back?”

“Of course it was,” you smiled against his torso, and he kissed the top of your head. 

“I’m happy you sent it to me, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

7 - You're What My World Spins Around

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: EXPLICIT (MDNI!)

Warnings: Birth of a child, Mentions of death, swearing as every other chapter I don't even put it anymore hahah

A/N: I feel like this chapter is kinda crap? Idk, but anyway we are finally here, it's time for baby Jaycen to be born! Total disclaimer, I tried to do my research but I don't know shit about pregnancy or babies or any of that so I did my best with details. No, I did not go into full details of the labor and all that just kind of glanced over it. I just felt this this was a huge plot point that's been looming for so long that I need to just get it down. As always comments, reblogs, likes, and feedback is always appreciate 100%. Thank y'all for continuing reading! Pics from pinterests! Gifs by @kaizsche I hope you enjoy this one.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

Tyler and Jake were born in the very early morning and gave their mother hell. Well, Jake did more so than Tyler, but altogether her labor had been nearly forty hours. Tyler came into the word silent as the night and Jake came screeching like a fighter jet, his attempt to break the sound barrier at the first try. The joke became, as the boys got older that Tyler snuck into the world and Jake came in like he'd been left behind by Tyler, and that he was pissed about it. Their father, Randall Owens, was the proudest man on earth, and the most supportive too. He took as much time off as he could when Jeanie had the boys. He spent as much time as her, if not more sometimes, with the boys, getting to know their individual personalities and their quirks. In most ways the boys were the same, but in some they were totally opposite.

For a long time after Randall died, Jeanie was devastated. She didn’t know how to go on without him, but she figured it out. She raised up two wild little boys who were always getting in trouble, and always just like their father in the one way that carried them through life. Both of Jeanie Owens' boys had compassion for others. 

Both of her boys were lovers and fighters. She’d taught them to always give people a chance, but to be adamant when they wanted something and to not settle. She taught them to go after their dreams. That’s why Tyler worked his ass off becoming the best bull rider he could. That’s why Jake got top of his class at the Naval Academy and got into the Top Gun program. That’s why both boys were both book smart and street smart. That’s why both of Jeanie’s boys, when they wanted something, they went after it and didn’t give up until they got it. 

Nothing was handed to Tyler and Jake. Jeanie didn’t bend when it came to rules. She made them do chores from a young age to learn responsibility. She made them care for all the horses. They were driving before they were supposed to be. And when Jeanie met Kenneth Seresin, those boys gave him hell. The boys were respectful of course, but that didn’t mean they didn’t challenge Kenny. What they remembered of Randall was how he had been with Jeanie. Always gentle with her, always supportive, and even though at their young ages they didn’t quite understand all of it, they remembered it later in life. There had been so much love in the little ranch in Dardanelle, Arkansas and until Kenny showed them the same level of reverence for their mother, those boys gave him a run for his money.

Kenny did everything with Tyler and Jake that he could. It was as if he was trying to make up for lost time and the loss of their father. He tried to be the best replacement to Randall that he could. He took them to roping events and the high school rodeos to compete. He took them up in military helicopters and on base before he was honorably discharged due to an injury, He helped them fix old beat up trucks that the boys had bought with their own savings. He taught them that no matter when you meet a person, you can love them as if you’ve always loved them their entire life. Tyler and Jake knew he wasn't their father by blood, but because of how he was with them, they treated him all the same in the end. And Kenny was damn proud to call those boys his sons.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Tyler and Dustin took turns caring for Ducati, but not without Georgia right there, on the outside of the pen. By Tyler’s rules, until Jaycen was born, she wasn’t allowed in the pen with the horse, just in case he spooked or charged at her. However, the mustang was proving more trustworthy each day. Each time Dustin went in, whether it was to scrub his waters and refill them, pick out his poop, give him hay, or throw him grain, Ducati followed him just like the puppies. When Tyler went in to do the same chores, Ducati only wanted Tyler to love on him. Tyler would rub the mustang’s forehead, and then his neck, and he’d even offer his belly and his back for scratches. After a week, Tyler was able to touch the horse all over. After two, he was able to pick up each of his feet, without a halter, and after three...well Georgia wanted Tyler to try and throw a saddle pad over his back.

“Gee, I don’t know. Seems kinda fast.” Tyler said, as Ducati pushed his neck toward Tyler, begging to be scratched. Tyler obliged readily and then he glanced at Georgia, who had thrown the saddle pad over the top bar of the panels.

“He trusts you. I trust you. Just give it a try.” Georgia said softly, reaching out to rub Ducati’s nose. Tyler slowly took the saddle pad from the top bar and held it out for the gelding to sniff. He was uninterested and just pushed his neck toward Tyler again. Tyler raised a brow and then touched the gelding with it. Again, uninterested. Tyler tilted his head and then gingerly placed the pad on Ducati’s back. The gelding glanced at him and licked his lips.

“She said he’d had a saddle on.” Georgia said, sneaking a piece of carrot from her pocket to the gelding’s awaiting mouth. He churches happily on it and then turned his nose toward Tyler. 

“Got nothin’ bud, sorry. Just a silly saddle pad.” Tyler chuckled as Ducati poked his nose toward Georgia’s belly. She smiled and Tyler spoke again. “He’s smart that’s for sure. I figured since she said he had been buckin’, he wouldn’t be too keen on the saddle pad at all.”

“I think he doesn’t care much about the equipment. She didn’t give us the full story. I’d put money on him spookin’ at somethin’ while she was ridin’ and he bucked, bolted, and got her off. She was too scared to get back on so he’s probably squirrelly under saddle, not on the ground. I think he was how he was at her place because she never got rid of any of that anxiety. She just left it in there. Here, he didn’t feel like he needed any anxiety because we were gentle and calm from the start. And you’re not afraid of anythin’ so.” Georgia explained, as Tyler’s gaze settled on Ducati. The gelding swished his tail and cocked a hip. 

“Can you get Jake?” He asked and Georgia nodded, going back into the barn. Jake had been helping to muck out the stalls and Georgia had put Sam in charge of brushing horses. Georgia was determined at some point to get Sam on one of their horses and see if she remembered how to ride. 

“Hey Jake, Tyler needs you.” Georgia said, just as Jake was pushing the wheelbarrow out of the stall he had been cleaning. He closed the door behind him and pushed the wheelbarrow out the front so that he could dump it after. Tyler, being ever ingenuitive, had come up with a dump trailer and manure spreader to use for the back fields, effectively fertilizing them so that when the summer came around, the horses would have beautiful grass to go out on.  

“Can you grab my saddle?” Tyler asked as Jake stepped out of the barn. He immediately doubled back and Georgia inhaled a sharp breath.

“Okay, now who’s pushing it?” She asked, as she hung her arms over the rail. Ducati once again, placed his nose gently at her belly. Jaycen kicked hard then and Georgia closed her eyes and groaned softly. 

“Did he just talk back for me ?” Tyler smirked, as he placed his hand on her belly.

“I think so. That hurt a bit.” She said and Tyler chuckled as Jake reappeared, Tyler’s huge roping saddle easily slung over one arm. 

“Seems like Jaycen wants his horse ready for when he comes out.” Tyler joked and Jake threw the saddle over the panel so Tyler could pull it down. Georgia kept her eyes on Ducati the whole time and the mustang barely moved. In fact, he looked bored. 

“Okay buddy, let’s try somethin’ huh?” Tyler said, stepping over to Ducati with the saddle. He gave an out loud count of one, two, three and then swung the saddle up and onto the horse’s back. Ducati flinched a little at the weight, but his expression stayed the same and he licked his lips again. Tyler reached under to grab the cinch and secure it, then the back cinch. He pulled the breastplate around and buckled that before stepping back. Ducati simply followed Tyler, seeming to not even notice the saddle that had been put on him.

“Do I dare?” Tyler asked, glancing at Georgia, then Jake.

“If you’re gettin’ on, I’m takin’ a video for Tiktok, you dumb sonofabitch.” Jake laughed and held up his phone. “Dumb ways to die!” He sung, which made Tyler laugh, but not Georgia. She glared at him.

“ Don’t be stupid, Tyler. ” She said. Tyler patted Ducati and then turned to Georgia with a small smile.

“Oh let me have a little fun, darlin’.” He mused as he reached over the gate to grab the rope halter they had been using for the gelding. It was old and tattered, but still solid. Ducati walked over, placing his nose through the halter and letting Tyler secure it. He rubbed the horse’s neck and then brought him to the middle of the pen. “Any advice before I ruin this horse, Peach?”

“If you get on and he bucks you off...well...you’re fixin’ it later, Arkansas .” Her tone was well on the way to annoyed. Tyler placed his foot in the stirrup, bouncing a few times and paying attention to the horse’s ears. They flicked back and forth and he blinked a few times, but stood remarkably still. Tyler jumped up and laid across the saddle, then hopped back down. He repeated this step a few times before finally swinging his leg over the other side. He felt Ducati go round and suck up his belly underneath the saddle. Tyler grabbed the horn and the back of his saddle, ready for whatever was about to happen. Everyone held their breath, except Tyler. He took a deep breath and as if he was back in the chute, he blew the breath out at the same time as Ducati exploded into the air.

He vaguely heard Georgia yell at him, he heard Jake whoop and shout and he saw Sam and Dustin run out of the barn from the corner of his eye. Tyler pulled himself tight to the saddle and as Ducati quite literally bronced underneath him, Tyler fought the urge to move his legs in a spurring motion like he used to do when he rode bulls. Even though it had been years, it was hard to quell something that had been so ingrained in his brain as a habit.

They made it about two times around the round pen before Ducati lost his balance and hit Tyler’s leg on the panel, scaring himself and making Tyler yelp. Georgia turned away, the nauseous dread creeping up from the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t watch. Jake was still filming and both Sam and Dustin’s mouths were ajar in awe as Tyler too lost his balance, lost his grip on the cheyenne roll on the back of the saddle, and scared Ducati even more as he tumbled from the mustang’s back onto the dirt. He landed with a loud thud, on his ass and Ducati immediately froze. 

“TYLER!” Georgia nearly screamed, knowing he’d fallen. The wind had been knocked out of him, but when she heard him laughing, she sighed heavily, relieved. “You fuckin’ idiot! I say it out of love and because you scared me, but you’re a dumb ass!”

“Ah, I never thought I’d be so turned on havin’ my pregnant wife reprimand me.” He chuckled and coughed, then shot her a flirty glance as he stood stiffly and rubbed his ass. If looks could kill, Tyler would be a dead man walking up to kiss his wife. She brushed the dust off of him and glanced around him. Ducati had walked up behind him, apologetically. Tyler rubbed the gelding’s nose. “Bud, not your fault. I pushed ya. I also fell off. Bad ridin’ on my part.”

“Well, now you have to do it again.” Georgia said, tugging at his shirt. He leaned down and kissed her again and then smirked. Jake was doubled over, laughing his ass off, and Sam smacked him gently. Jake stood and took a deep breath before leaning back on the panels.

“Yes ma’am. Anythin’ I could do different?” Tyler asked, as he was ready to mount up again. He was a little shaky and his hips were stiff, but he knew if he didn’t get back on it would be bad for both of them. Tyler had dissociated during the bucking fit, trying to block out any sort of fear or anxiety he had, although it didn’t feel the same as it did with the bulls. He felt like he could trust Ducati. He knew he couldn’t trust the bulls. And, he lost his balance and fell because he started thinking. He figured if he stayed on this time, Ducati might quit bucking on his own, knowing that his rider could stick it out and not be afraid.

“Just don’t fall off again. You’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.” Georgia said softly, placing her head on her hands on the panel rail. She blew out a long breath as Tyler climbed aboard again.

“That the first time you been bucked off since your accident?” Jake asked and Tyler nodded.

“Wasn’t that bad, He’s not trying to get me off, he’s just scared shitless. If I can stick it, he’ll quit.” Tyler said, looking to Georgia for guidance. He picked up the rope and not feeling Ducati ball up this time, he asked him to turn left. Ducati obliged, moving off softly. Tyler asked for a little more speed, clicking his tongue to get the horse to trot. He wiggled his legs a little as well, unsure of how much education the horse had. Ducati scooted forward and when Tyler didn’t tense up, the horse took a breath and let it out. 

Tyler asked for a little more again, urging the horse to canter. As soon as he stepped into it, Ducati became overwhelmed with worry and went to bucking again. He folded in two and Tyler quickly grabbed for the saddle. The bucking fit was shorter this time and Tyler stayed on successfully, letting Ducati come down to a trot again. He asked for canter, got a few crow hops, then Ducati slowed down. The little horse had a comfortable trot and an even canter that Tyler asked for once more. There was no broncing this time and as Ducati cantered around a little, Tyler realized what he had just done. He let Ducati come to a full halt, right by Georgia.

“How’d I do?” He asked, rubbing the horse all over, just making sure he was okay with everything that was going on. Georgia nodded.

“Not bad, Arkansas. You might get good at this if you keep at it.’ Georgia teased and Tyler leaned over the panels to kiss her. He dismounted and immediately removed the tack and handed it all to Jake to take back in the barn. Georgia turned and began to walk back into the barn, satisfied with her husband’s stupidity that actually worked out in the end. She threw a lascivious grin his way and waved as she spoke. “You might even get a surprise later on.”

Tyler’s eyes widened and he smiled. He glanced at Dustin, who pursed his lips and motioned for him to go follow Georgia. Jake and Sam had headed back into the barn to finish up what they had been doing. Tyler knew he'd be sore for a few days but it was worth it if he helped Ducati feel a little better, and made less work for Georgia once she could get back on and put some more time into him.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Jake had taken to doing extra sessions with the puppies and he even helped Tyler with their dogs. Ryker had imparted upon Jake that it was imperative to be consistent with the dogs, so while down in Oklahoma, Jake spent at least two hours each day with each dog. One in the morning and one at night if he could, going through every aspect of training that he had learned so far. Sam spent about an hour with each dog as well, usually taking them as a group for a walk. They wanted the dogs well rounded in a pack and as individuals so doing this would only help and it made the bond between the three dogs stronger too. Jake had even taught Sam everything in the short amount of time that they’d been there. 

Ballast exceeded every expectation that Ryker had for the pup. Jake never had any, so Ballast surprised him at every turn. At just over eight months old, the dog was essentially a lanky, mini version of what he would be as an adult. The bite work was where Ballast really shined. Jake already had a competition ready focus heel available at any moment. Jake could out Ballast from any bite with just his voice command. And Ballast would take down anyone for Jake. A true protection dog in the making. Jake noticed something else though and that was that Ballast was also fiercely loyal to Samantha. That was ultimately what Jake wanted, so that when he wasn’t around, Samantha wouldn't have to worry about a thing. He knew Rocco would give his life for Sam, but Ballast would back him up and avenge that death if he had to, tenfold.

Muster on the other hand, was not what they expected. She excelled in all the obedience and protection work. Her bite work was great and she was a powerful little fur missile in her own right, but Muster wanted much more than anything to cuddle and hang out with Sam. Muster was absolutely Sam’s dog and while she liked Jake, she found solace in Samantha’s company. Muster also knew that Georgia was pregnant and if the cattle dogs and Ballast got too rambunctious around her, Muster would break it up. The female dog knew the importance of rest and recuperation for everyone. She wasn’t exactly a party pooper, but she did like her peace and quiet. She was a calming presence for the other dogs and that was an excellent thing to have with such a high drive, high energy pack.

Jake had even taken to teaching Rocco some of the obedience training. Rocco actually took to it pretty well too, considering his breed. Dachshunds tended to be stubborn and difficult to work with if you didn’t know how to motivate them. Jake figured out that Rocco’s motivation was simply pleasing Samantha so any time he worked with Rocco, he made sure that Sam was there and she was ready to praise him. Jake had never thought he’d grow to love the little dog as much as he did, but there was a special spot in his heart for Rocco. One that he thought would be empty from Dixie forever, but he was certain that the little red dog might be able to fill that hole with his big, courageous personality. 

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Georgia firmly believed that just like the calves and foals that her father used to raise, it wasn't up to mom when the baby came. It was all up to when that baby wanted out. And at exactly nine months to the day, Jaycen Alexander Owens decided he was ready to see the world for the first time.

Georgia had been laying down for the majority of the day, not feeling particularly well. She’d been somewhat nauseous all day. She picked at the lunch that Tyler had made and when she decided she couldn’t lay down any longer, she elected to take a walk outside, ending up in the barn, which she had come to expect. She’d felt some pressure in her pelvis just after lunch. She mentioned it to Tyler and he’d been concerned, checking in on her every hour or so after that. She’d also felt like when she went back out around dinner time, that she was waddling like a penguin. Her steps felt particularly heavy the longer she stayed out there and she was nearly done feeding the horses. She just had to drop grain but she had an overwhelming feeling that something wasn’t right.

Tyler had been working on his truck, had gone in for a shower because he had oil and soot everywhere, and had come back out to help Georgia finish feeding the horses dinner. He’d assumed that was where she was when he didn’t find her in their bedroom or on the couch. Jake hadn’t noticed her step out either. When he walked into the barn, Georgia was standing frozen, looking down at the barn floor. Her water had broken and it was time.

“Gee? You okay?” Tyler placed a hand on her back, feeling her shaking.

“Tyler...we have to go to the hospital. Like now.” She said, glancing at him and he could see fear in her eyes, wide as she tried to breathe evenly.

“Wait why...oh..oh shit...baby's comin?” Tyler's eyes widened too and he took her hand and began to lead her to the front of the barn.

“Very much yes!” She exclaimed as they crossed the threshold of the barn.

“Got it hold on! I'll be back in a sec!” He said, letting her lean on the door frame. He called the dogs and swung the front door open, yelling to his brother.

“Jake! Start my truck! Gotta get to the hospital. Dogs! Inside!” Tyler yelled as he burst through the door, all six dogs bounding through the open space, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“Baby time?” Jake asked excitedly, leaping from the couch and grabbing his boots. Sam, who had been sitting next to him, got the dogs settled, and then grabbed her shoes as well.

“Baby time!” Tyler exclaimed, turning on his heels to go help Georgia the rest of the way to the truck. 

“Woohoo! I'm aboutta be an uncle! And you’re gonna be an aunt!” Jake hugged Sam, then kissed her hard, making her giggle as they headed out the door. Once they were all settled in the truck, they were off.

Tyler made the drive short, nearly getting pulled over, but the cop recognized them and knowing that Georgia was pregnant, realized why Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler,  was speeding down Interstate 177. They took Georgia to a room immediately and got her prepped. Tyler helped her change into a hospital gown, his hands gentle as they then guided her into the open space of the room. Dr. Ginnie Halstead was going to be helping deliver, and she was the one they'd been seeing throughout all of their appointments, so they were comfortable with her. Then the waiting began.

Jake had made sure that the bag in the back of Tyler’s truck with everything that Georgia needed, including some extra clothes for them both, some of the onesies they’d gotten for Christmas, extra toiletries, and some snacks among other things, had made its way into the room. He and Sam were going to stay until Georgia was actively giving birth, then they would step out and let her and Tyler be with each other. 

“Tyler, this is too early.” Georgia said, as she paced back and forth. Her contractions were getting closer together, slowly but surely. 

“Doc said it’s fine. Everything’s been good so far. Sometimes they come a little early. We wanted this.” He said, finally sitting down after having followed her back and forth for the past thirty minutes. 

“I know but it feels too early .” She said softly, glancing over at Jake and Sam. They were curled on the small couch that was situated in the corner of the room. The room itself was nice, a little larger than a normal single bed, plenty of space to move around, a spot for the baby and a full bathroom with a shower. The lighting was softer than a normal hospital suite and it put Georgia at ease, slightly. 

“It feels too early because we were both freaking out about this like a month ago and now we're here. It’s actually happening.” Tyler said, reaching for her, stopping her. 

“Why are you so calm right now?” Georgia asked, pausing her pacing.

“Well one of us has to be and it sure as shit ain’t you. Respectfully darlin’, you’re supposed to be a little scared.” Tyler’s eyes were soft as he watched her from his seat on the bed. His hand lingered at her side and as soon as the next contraction came, she was off again, walking back and forth. She breathed in and out, slowly and carefully. They subsided and her eyes met his.

“You’re not scared?” She asked. Tyler stood, walking toward her slowly. He pulled her into his arms, his hands careful around her waist. 

“I’m terrified but I’m holding it together for you.” He admitted readily. This stirred Jake’s attention, just as Georgia began walking again. Even though Jake knew how to be with Sam, he was still taking notes from his brother. 

Several hours later, and lots of pacing, Georgia’s legs were starting to shake. She had been walking and pausing endlessly. She feared for when she needed to be still and that time was coming rapidly. Dr. Halstead had come in a few times to check on her and see how her pain was. They’d decided she was going to have an epidural as close as possible to when she needed to push, as sometimes the epidural could slow down the process.

Tyler had pulled her onto the bed, putting a halt to her pacing that was becoming slightly frantic. He situated her between his legs and began to massage her shoulders.

“Just breathe, mama. You got this.” He whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She leaned back against him and grinned. He'd removed his boots so that he could be on the bed with her, so for the past hour or so he'd been sliding around in his socks.

“At least your feet don't stink.” She murmured, taking a deep breath as another contraction steamrolled over her. He felt her shudder as she grabbed for his legs and leaned forward. His lips turned up as they met the back of her neck. 

“No, darlin’ they don't.” He chuckled softly as the doctor came in to let them know that the anesthesiologist would be along shortly to administer her epidural, so Tyler would have to scoot out from behind her, but he took up until the last second that he could to stay there. He had taken to massaging down her back and her sides until he had to get up. He took a hold of one of her hands and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Gettin’ about that time. You ready?” He asked. She nodded and squeezed his hand as she felt pressure at her back where the doctor positioned the needle and administered the medication. It only took about twenty minutes for Georgia to feel some relief. 

Sam and Jake elected to leave the room then. Jake shook his brother's hand, hugged him, and kissed Georgia gently on the top of her head. Sam hugged Tyler and she rubbed her hand up and down Georgia's arm a few times. 

“Good luck!” Jake said as he and Sam marched out of the room and headed to the waiting area. The doctor and another nurse came in and prepared everything for the next stage. Georgia grabbed for Tyler then, nearly crushing his hand.

“Tyler. Don't go anywhere. Please.” She said, her eyes darting to his. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He knew she was scared shitless right now. 

“No need to worry. I'm gonna be right here the whole time. No matter what.” He said softly. He stood to the side of the bed, as close as he could to her, his arm around her shoulders. Their doctor smiled as her and the nurse readied everything they needed in the event of complications. They had discussed what could go wrong and what they would do if something did happen, but they were hoping for an easy birth. 

“If it will help and you're comfortable with it, Tyler can sit behind you like he was earlier. I find especially with first time mothers, the more encouraging their birth partner is, the smoother it goes.” The doctor explained and without hesitation, Georgia scooted forward so that he could climb in behind her again. He locked her in with his legs on either side of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, then rested the side of his head against hers. Georgia shifted uncomfortably, and Dr. Halstead reassured her that everything looked good so far.

“Okay, Georgia, you're gonna push on my count, ready? One, two, three, push!” Dr. Halstead's voice was calm but somehow excited. Georgia bared down, and as she did her grip on Tyler's thighs tightened. He'd probably have bruises there, but it would all be worth it in the end. 

At 3:01 AM, on February 28th, Jaycen Alexander Owens was born quietly, giving his parents the single most terrifying reason to hold their breaths...and a million reasons to finally let them out in relief. 

Jaycen didn't cry at first. Just like his father, the boy was reserved from the moment his eyes opened and took his first breath. Georgia feared for the worst, but in hearing her son's little whine, she was overcome with emotion. She was exhausted, panting, sweating bullets but she was so relieved and tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the nurse take him and clean him up. 

Tyler was also crying. He wiped his tears on her shoulder as he waited for the nurse to bring their son to them. Now, it was all real. His dream had come true. After the nurse had dried him off, she wrapped Jaycen loosely in the blanket they brought, a sky blue one that was extra soft, and handed the little bundle to Georgia. She held him  gently to her chest, the first skin to skin contact sending a wave of happiness through her. He was slightly cooler than she'd anticipated, but Dr. Halstead reminded her that she just went through labor with nothing more than the epidural. Her body temperature and heart rate was up like she’d run a marathon from the incredible feat she’d accomplished.

Tyler stayed seated behind her and peered over her shoulder at the seven pounds, three ounces with sparse sandy brown hair atop his head. He looked tiny in Georgia's arms and Tyler was sure he'd look even smaller in his own. He reached around and ran a single finger over the soft hair on Jaycen's head. 

“That's our son, Gee. I'm so fuckin' proud of you, Peach.” He whispered, making her smile. She let out a sigh of relief as everyone else cleared the room. Dr. Halstead was going to let Jake and Sam know that Jaycen had arrived, but that Georgia needed to rest for a bit before they could go in and see her and the baby. The doctor gave Georgia a crash course on breastfeeding and helped her with the first time. When Jaycen took to it no problem, Dr. Halstead sighed.

“If only they could all be this easy!” She said and Tyler smirked.

“He’s an Owens. He’ll give us plenty of trouble later on.” He said and Dr. Halstead nodded. In order to make everything easiest for Georgia, they let her stay in the room she’d been in. As long as Jaycen remained healthy, they could take him home in the next couple of days, but for now, Tyler and Georgia would be staying there. 

After resting for a bit, Tyler asked Jake and Sam to enter the room. Jaycen was sleeping comfortably in Georgia’s arms so they were quiet. Jake actually cried. They were, of course, happy tears, congratulating his brother with a bear hug. Georgia offered for him to hold Jaycen and he readily accepted. Jake was so careful taking his nephew. Tyler, trying to not immediately be a helicopter parent in any sense of the word, left Jake to hold Jaycen, knowing his brother was more than responsible enough to hold a baby. Especially his own nephew. Sam was careful as she brushed her fingertips over Jaycen's little hairy head. She smiled wide and glanced up at Jake.

“You look pretty good with a baby in your arms.” She mused and Jake chuckled. 

“This is gonna be all I can think about, Sam.” He said softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Over those couple of days, there had been an influx of people. Tyler and Jake’s parents were the first to show up, excited to meet their grandson with two legs. Then came all the Wranglers. Boone and Lily couldn’t wait to see the little bundle of joy. Javi came bearing gifts, some more clothes for Jaycen and he snuck away before Kate and Scott appeared. Kate was ecstatic, hugging Georgia and giving Tyler a punch on the arm. Scott was quiet and he simply congratulated them, but when Kate asked to hold Jaycen, it stirred something in Scott. Seeing the girl he’d developed feelings for with a baby in her arms, sent his mind to a far off place and he had no idea how to get his life there, or how to even begin the conversation he wanted to have with her. He wondered if it was even in his future. But that was all for another time. Dexter and Dani had popped in last, bringing some snacks for Tyler and Georgia and a little stuffed pony for Jaycen. 

Tyler and Georgia couldn’t wait to bring Jaycen home to meet the dogs and the horses. God knows especially Ducati would be waiting for him.

[ableedingpromise]

But how do I even fix myself likeeeeee my whole life i fought to get help just to realise the help that therapists give is fucking useless. I've either been ignored, ghosted or just told to calm down. Like wowwwww I never thought about that so helpful!!!!!!!!!!!

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[charmedimsure]

uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun

anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)

WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd

A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it

**this can be read as romantic or platonic**

You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.

"Sergeant?"

Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.

"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"

"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."

You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.

"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.

You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."

She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."

You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."

<>

You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.

You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.

While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.

Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.

"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."

Shit.

Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"

As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.

<>

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."

Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."

"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."

The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."

"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.

Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."

"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.

"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."

"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."

"I agree," Player 145 adds.

"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.

"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."

"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."

Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"

Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."

It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"

Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."

You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.

"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."

"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."

"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.

"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.

Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."

You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.

"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.

Gi-hun nods.

"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."

"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"

Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"

"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."

"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.

"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."

<>

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one."

The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.

You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.

There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.

The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.

You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.

You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.

You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.

You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"

The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.

Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.

"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.

You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.

"Retreat. Retreat."

The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.

"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.

Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.

"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.

"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."

Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.

Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"

You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.

"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.

You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.

<>

Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.

Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."

One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."

Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.

You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.

When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."

"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."

You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.

"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.

Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.

"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."

Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"

You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.

The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.

Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."

The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.

"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"

The guard just stares at him.

Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."

<>

"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."

Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"

You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.

"Cover me!"

You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.

When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.

As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"

The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."

Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"

"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.

"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.

You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.

You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.

You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.

A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.

"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.

You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.

"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.

"Go ahead!" Young-il says.

"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."

"We're running out of ammo, too!"

"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.

"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"

Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.

"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"

"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."

"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.

"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.

"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."

Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"

You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.

"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"

You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."

"Alright! We're counting on you!"

You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.

You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.

"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"

"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"

You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.

Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.

Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.

"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.

He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.

Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.

You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.

"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"

Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.

"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.

You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.

Never leave a man behind.

Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."

You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.

Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."

He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.

After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.

"What happened?"

Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.

You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.

Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You can't die like this."

You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.

As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ

pt.1 here pt.3 here

these are just some of my silly headcannons on how i think hq characters would act and what stereotypes they would be at an american highschool (as an american highschooler ☝️🤓)

characters: kuroo, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, oikawa, iwaizumi

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

kuroo

literally the biggest nerd but sm girls crush on him

the type of guy you gotta hit your friends with the “hear me out” before you say he’s cute

kind of annoying and cocky about his intelligence but ppl still like him

gets real creative about his insults towards ugly people

wears cringey dad graphic tees bc he has no style

crunchy coughs in class a lil too often….

has the oldest most beat up car on the planet like it’s a safety hazard driving that thing

always smells really weird like cigarettes or something despite not smoking a day in his life

debate club.

his note books have like water stains and the covers are like torn apart and look like they were used as a shield during a war

offers all his friends rides but is such a scary driver

makes fun of ppl “lovingly” but he’s lowkey a bully

jokingly owns a minecraft hoodie he bought from the kids section and it’s SO TIGHT it’s a crime to wear that out with his big self

kenma

wears the same clothes multiple days in a row, he don’t gaf he probably slept in ts too 😭

probably doesn’t really smell bad, just kind of…. moist? marinated?

his hair is probably really greasy sometimes

always brings some type of gaming console to school and plays during lunch and during any free time he has

sneaks his phone when he isn’t supposed to and has never been caught

for some reason he sits with cool people despite NEVER talking during class and never going out of his way to make friends (kuroo forces him to hang out with his friends)

raged at his game super loud in class one time and got so embarrassed he begged his counselor to take him out of that class

his grades are ok for someone who never studies or even really pays attention

some of his teachers have gone entire school years without ever remembering his name

has the best comebacks to everyone, he is not afraid to clock you

bokuto

drives the biggest jeep or like ford bronco ever and is actually a decent driver

his parking is TERRIBLE though and he never bothers to fix it

probably would play football (i’m sorry guys) and is constantly at risk of getting kicked off the team for his grades

akaashi helps him study to stay on the team

genuinely the biggest himbo, a bunch of the girls think he’s adorable but he never gets the hint

posts silly gym selfies on his story

book bag has like 1 notebook in it, maybe a pencil if he’s lucky

teachers secretly love him (but not enough to pass him)

i feel like he’d also try and join the swim team for some reason

i feel like he’d eat burger king for lunch :,(

girls confide in him with their drama even though he gives no helpful feedback or advice and just occasionally gasps and goes “no way”

has the most cracked iphone screen on the planet

akaashi

probably taking like half honors classes or AP (idk how it works i’m not at a regular high school sorry guys </3)

gets school iced coffee for breakfast

takes super good and detailed notes and helps bokuto despite being a lower grade

wears the funkiest outfits but girls still think he’s cute

no girls talk to him though because he’s so quiet

always has at least 1 airpod in

sells pics of his notes

sometimes goes off campus for lunch with bokuto, but refuses to eat burger king

other days he probably has salad for lunch

probably in like orchestra but never carries his instrument in the halls bc he thinks it’s embarrassing

bokuto is loud af cheering him on when they have concerts

also sneaks his phone during class but got caught one time and now he’s kind of too scared to use it

iwaizumi

wears those tight work out shirts to show off his muscles

probably drinks like protein drinks in class

has the biggest water bottle ever like bro drinks a gallon of water every period

has a SUPER old iphone or like an android he refuses to upgrade because it gets the job done

always posting about his gains

probably crashed his car and his bumper is like hanging off his car

in like a weight lifting or body building club and is probably the leader of said club

he and oikawa are a very popular duo

occasionally skips class if he ever just doesn’t feel like going

his notes are so vague and short yet he understands and remembers everything he wrote

his grades are insanely good too

literally only wears sports clothing

uses really good smelling cologne but since he’s so active there’s always a hint of must from all the sweat :,(

oikawa

man hoe

he has been in just about every girls dms at some point

his grades are like, okay? he’s not failing

does stuff for female validation, like ik if he had a cat he’d be posting it on his story constantly and like flexing his hand veins

drives a bmw

if he’s actually in a relationship, he’s super loyal tho

his teachers kinda hate him

still uses snapchat and his snap score is like 500k

has decent fashion but dresses mildly gay at the same time

people constantly make jokes abt him and iwa being gay and he gets so mad (maybe he’s projecting idk)

smells a little like vanilla

he and iwa get in n out for lunch and eat in his car

[eatfishies]

your touch sets me ablaze | 🔞

summary: Rafayel is determined to make all your worries go away.

or

Rafayel giving his "Miss Bodyguard" the time of her life.

word count: 3.5k words tags: NSFW, rafayel x reader (afab), porn without plot, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, public sex (or semi..? idk), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: rafa fingers owo .. that’s it . i jus have an obsession w his pretty fingers ok . hehe hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

The long-awaited day of Rafayel’s exhibition is finally here. She smoothed out her dress, ensuring that there is no speck of dust or any creases. The dress hugged her curves like second skin, a dark blue shade that matches the ocean — she heard it faintly as she fixed herself on the mirror. The tidal waves swished around with fluidity as the birds chirped merrily, giving her a sense of peace despite the gnawing anxiety bubbling up inside her. She sighed, biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts when the door opened, revealing Rafayel. 

Dressed in a white buttoned shirt, paired with a dark blue suit jacket and black tailored slacks. He looked mesmerizing as he always does whenever she sees him. Many people claim that Rafayel’s paintings are beautiful, each brushstroke has its own story and together, mixed with the soft colors is enough to draw someone in. It was easy to get lost in his artworks hence why his buyers are eager to get their hands on the latest pieces of his art. Every art dealer was entranced by the beauty of it. One could say, if you gaze at his painting, the sight of it could linger in your mind even as you slumber, dancing around and luring you into the depths of the ocean.

He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively, “Hey cutie, looking good there.” He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips, “Why the long face…? It’s my exhibition, not yours.” She knows he was just teasing, trying to quell her dwelling thoughts but she can only give him a faint smile.

“I know that… I just…” She sighed, unsure of how to properly form her sentence. Her mind is constantly racing, overlapping each fleeting thought. “I’ve just been… overthinking about all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the stress of everything…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the side.

The Lemurian hummed, studying his lover’s face with deep concentration, “Well, we still have some time left to kill. Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” His hands cupped her face gently, making her stare at his handsome face. 

“Uh… I’m not sure.” She responded, still preoccupied with her troubles. 

Rafayel’s hands fall to the side before grabbing her wrist and leading her out of the bedroom and into the center of the studio. He gently pushed her down to the couch, “Stay here.” He said before stalking off to grab something from the desk. She could only watch with curiosity, wondering what Rafayel had planned to distract her. 

When he came back, he was holding a box of Pile It Up. She couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a surge of competitive spirit bubbling inside her. “Oh, you’re so on!” She grinned at him.

And yet, after a few minutes of playing, she felt the same thoughts resurfacing. Rafayel didn’t need to be told twice to know that his partner is deep in her worries, he could see the frown etched on her features or the way she subtly tapped her fingers repeatedly against the block. 

He sighed, standing up and taking a seat next to her, “I hate seeing you like this.” He paused, searching her face before caressing her cheek tenderly, “We don’t need to talk about it but I wished I could take all your troubles away. It makes me sad to see you look so blue.” 

A small hint of guilt crept up, she forced herself to hold Rafayel’s gaze. “I’ll be fine, really. Just… stress, the usual.” She spoke tiredly, relishing the feeling of his hand on her cheek. 

Suddenly, an idea popped up inside the painter’s head. “Then… let me put your mind at ease, yeah?” But before she could inquire, the Lemurian pulled her into a soft kiss, effectively drowning out any single thought she had previously. Their lips moved languidly in a passionate yet loving kiss. His hands slid down to feel her curves, swallowing her needy whimpers as his fingers hiked the hem of the dress up, exposing more of her skin. 

He gently laid her down and pulled away, hovering above her, admiring the way her lips are now swollen and glistened with his saliva. No doubt that the lipstick has smeared onto his mouth as well but he couldn’t care less, slowly inching closer to her most intimate place. She bit her lip, growing impatient at his deliberate and sensual movements but the words of protest died in her throat when Rafayel finally touched her clit, feeling the wet patch growing as he kept stroking her.

“You’re already so wet for me… you sure are eager, aren’t you?” He smirked as she gripped his arms and bucked her hips. “Come on, let me hear your pretty sounds, cutie.” He purred, effortlessly pulling her panties to the side and rubbing her slick folds. A string of moans and whimpers fell from her lips as Rafayel continued to touch her, staring intently as her expressions contorted to one of pleasure. The worry lines on her face, the frown and the anxiousness emitting off of her earlier are all gone, replaced by fervent lust and desire. 

With a swift motion, Rafayel plunged two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her velvet walls clamping down tightly as he curled his digits, “Ha…! F- fuck! Raf…” She moaned out, it was the sound that he could never get tired of hearing. Her body writhed beneath her lover’s skilful ministrations. 

“That’s it… keep feeling good around my fingers. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” He uttered sultry and low, pressing kisses on her neck before biting onto the flesh. He knew that once she was clear-headed, she would scold him for leaving a mark, especially when they were both due to attend his exhibition later. But Rafayel couldn’t care less, he was addicted to her scent, her taste, her sounds and everything about her makes him want to lose himself completely, surrendering himself to the woman he holds dear to. 

The heat in her stomach coiled, the tell-tale signs of her climax approaching her as Rafayel fingers her faster and deeper, noticing the pitch of her moans getting louder. Her wet cunt squelched obscenely around his long digits as he worked to bring her close to her release. He licked her earlobe and nipped at it, “Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. Come on, you can do it, can’t you?” 

Spurred by Rafayel’s encouragement, she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy clenched tightly around his plunging fingers. “I’m… I’m close! I’m gonna come!” She cried out, her cunt clamping down on his digits as she came hard, pussy juice gushing out and all over his hand and wrist. 

“Good girl. You did so great, my little conch.” He pulled his soaked fingers out and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rafayel felt a swell of pride at seeing the state of his lover like this, she’s no longer concerned with troubling thoughts or anxieties. Only a look of pure bliss. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring the taste of her. “You taste divine, my love.” A blush spread through her cheeks as she stared at the sight of Rafayel delightfully tasting her essence. 

“But… I’m not done yet. Not even close.” His voice drops an octave lower as he spread her legs wide and tugged her damp panties off, tossing them on the floor. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, dripping with slick from her orgasm earlier. “I can’t wait to devour you.” And with that, he leaned in and lapped her pussy tentatively, keeping his gaze fixed on her face as her fingers tangled in his purple hair, gripping it. 

Debauched cries and moans bounced off the walls along with the erotic sounds of Rafayel eating her cunt out with vigor, like a man starved. “F- feels so good!” She whimpered as the Lemurian held her thighs, spreading them wider, giving him more access to her sopping core. 

Unable to resist, Rafayel delved in deeper, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling the sensitive nub. He flicked his tongue faster, determined to bring his dear bodyguard to her peak once more. The needy sounds spilling from her lips were like music to his ears, urging him on, to give her the pleasure that she so desperately sought. 

“D- don’t stop, Raf! Please!” Her hips bucked wantonly as she ground her slick cunt against his mouth. Rafayel smirked in response, letting her tug on his hair fiercely as he thrust his tongue deep inside her clutching heat, fucking her with his mouth, feeling incredibly turned on and eager to watch her fall apart beneath him. 

He could feel her juices flooding his mouth, could taste her arousal coating his tongue. Rafayel could go on for days burying his head in between her legs, couldn’t ever get enough of her sweet essence. “Come for me. Come on my tongue like the good girl that you are.” He spurred, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. 

The all-too familiar sensation coursed through her body as she moaned out, “I’m gonna come! Raf, I’m gonna come!” At that, Rafayel vigorously sucked hard on her clit, feeling her walls starting to flutter and clench around his plunging tongue. He could feel the heat of her core climbing, threatening to spill once more. The Lemurian easily slipped in two fingers, knuckle-deep into her dripping cunt. He pumped them in and out, curling them just so to hit that spot that made his lover writhe in utter bliss. 

It was too much, the stimulation was overbearing as her body tensed, her thighs clamped around his head as she teetered on the brink. Rafayel gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as he ate them out with wild, desperate abandon. 

“Rafayel!” She cried out, arching off of the couch as her orgasm crashed over her for the second time. The painter moaned as he felt the flood of arousal coating his tongue and chin, lapping it up greedily as she shuddered and quaked beneath him. He could feel the way her walls gripped his fingers, sucking in and reluctant to let go, milking his hand for all it was worth. 

“P- please… too much…” She whined, riding out the intense wave of her climax. Rafayel gave her dripping wet pussy one last lick before pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “I could just drown in your taste for the rest of my life.” He spoke breathlessly, slowly withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did earlier.  

Just as Rafayel was about to lean down and kiss her, the unmistakable sound of his ringtone snapped both of their attention. Rafayel stared down at her, a look of surprise on his face, “Let me get it.” He stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing his phone. Frowning, he reads the message and pockets it away, looking back at her with a sigh. “It’s Thomas. Says we need to be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.” 

A small part of her felt disappointed at the fact that they would need to go out soon but she wasn’t just the only one whos’ feeling it. Rafayel gazed at her with a slight pout, he had hoped to fuck her silly before they were called to the gallery. But alas, duties calls and if they stalled any longer, Thomas would suspect something was up, even though Rafayel is known for arriving late to his exhibitions or not even appearing at all. 

“Should we just ditch this and not go?” He said exasperatedly, crossing his arms in annoyance. She smiled softly at him, sitting up straight and pulling her dress down, still panty-less underneath. She could feel her own slick running down her inner thighs, a faint blush spread through her cheeks as she briefly recalled the way Rafayel had brought her to climax twice. 

However, her gaze lowered to the sight of Rafayel’s painfully hard and obvious bulge, straining against his pants. Biting her lips, she quickly squashed down any lewd thoughts, refraining from losing her focus by daydreaming about sinking her tight wet cavern onto Rafayel’s thick cock. No, she needs to get it together and actually drag her Lemurian lover to the gallery, lest they face the wrath of Thomas. 

With a reluctant smile, she stood up and bent down to pick up her panties, slipping them on. “I guess it’s time to go. Come on, you pouty baby.” She pinched his cheek, earning a glare from her lover but it lacked no malice, instead filled with tenderness and love. Rafayel sighed dramatically, intertwining their fingers together, “Fine, fiiiiinee.” 

As they began to walk towards the front door, she paused, “Ah wait, I need to grab something.” But Rafayel wouldn’t budge, clasping her hand tightly as he stared ahead. He leaned in and whispered hotly in her ears, “Just keep your panties on. Don’t think this is over just because we’re going somewhere.” Heat rises up to her cheeks at the suggestive implication, was Rafayel planning something? It was a risky move, she knew she should go and grab the short pants to wear beneath her dress but Rafayel only gripped his hold on her, sensing the slight confusion. “Trust me, cutie. I know a way to make the exhibition waaaay more entertaining.” 

Alas, she gave in and nodded, “No funny stuff, alright!” She warned but Rafayel only smiled cheekily at her in response. “I’ll be a good boy and behave, dontcha’ worry, my darling.” He gave her a wink, a silent promise to be on his best behavior, yet there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‧───────────────‧

The gallery was filled and buzzing with prestigious art dealers and other VIP guests, mingling around and admiring the exquisite artworks that were displayed on the walls. She stood to the side, a glass of champagne in her hand as she glanced at Rafayel who is, no doubt, forced to converse with the guests by Thomas. She hummed, taking in the scene before her, it was clear that Rafayel has always been popular but to witness it entirely was a different feeling. It warms her heart knowing that Rafayel is loved and cherished by many people here – a respected artist in his own field, earning awe-struck stares and quiet excited cheers. 

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying her solitude when Rafayel sauntered over to her. “How is my princess doing?” He smirked, standing next to her, his gaze briefly flickering down to the hem of her dress. She could tell a thing or two about what he’s thinking, all of the thoughts are most likely inappropriate. “I’m doing okay.” She replied casually, “Shouldn’t you be talking to your esteemed guests? Wouldn’t want Thomas to come hurling complaints again, hm?” 

At the mention of Thomas’s complaints, Rafayel grimaced and looked away, “Puh-lease, I’m his boss here, not him. He can’t control me, no matter how much he wants to.” His hand found their way on her hips, pulling her close. “Besides, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Before she could voice out her objections, Rafayel immediately dragged her to the quieter, lonely 

 side of the gallery. There were no artworks framed on the walls nor are there any people here to disturb the couple. “Raf honey… are you sure we're allowed here? Isn’t this section of the gallery closed off?” Her voice tinged with uncertainty and maybe a little bit of unease at the blank and empty part of the gallery. 

“It’s fine, no one ever comes home.” He reassured her, letting go of his hand and cupping her face, “Now, it’s just the two of us here.” Rafayel captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire from before into it. She could taste the remnants of her pussy juice, rendering her completely into a puddle of mess as Rafayel’s fingers trailed down and slipped underneath her dress with ease. She whimpered against his lips as Rafayel rubbed her clit through her damp panties, soaked from the pleasure she received back in the comfort of his home. 

“R- raf… ah! Mhmm… we- we can’t” She murmured helplessly as Rafayel began to nip at her neck, licking the hickey he left there. It had bloomed beautifully, his mark on hers – a sign to everyone that she was his. Only his. 

Of course, she hadn’t been a fool, she did try to cover up the hickey before they stepped into the exhibition but Rafayel wouldn’t stop pestering her and telling her to just leave it be. In the end, she caved in and proudly showed off the mark, albeit with much reluctance and embarrassment. Rafayel rasped, “Need you… need you here, right now.” 

Swiftly, Rafayel tugged her panties aside and unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He pressed her against the wall, her back facing him, “N- now?!” She sputtered but Rafayel was already stroking his aching shaft on her sopping wet mound. 

He lined himself up, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Rafayel wanted nothing more than to slam inside, to consume her entirely, his body blazing with need but he knew she was still sensitive from the overstimulation. “Keep quiet, okay?” He whispered hotly before thrusting deep inside her slick walls, burying himself to the hilt, feeling it tighten. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He gripped her hips, staring intently at his lover, biting her lips to stifle the moans and cries of pleasure. Without wasting any time, Rafayel set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucked into her dripping cunt with deep, powerful strokes. Anyone could walk in on them, going at it like rabbits in heat but all caution and care was thrown out of the window. Rafayel could only feel her wet, clasping heat, determined to bring her to the edge and make her feel good. There was no denying the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, if a guard were to catch them, they would no doubt be in trouble.

Then again, the risk is what makes it exciting. Rafayel groaned softly, nuzzling into her neck as she held back her cries of ecstasy, the familiar coppery tang of her blood sinking into her tongue from biting her lips too hard. Rafayel’s hands slid up to cup and knead her breasts through her dress as he pounded into her. The sensation was too much, her brain was all mushy as her pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in deeper, wanting more. 

Her hands pathetically scrambled to hold onto the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as she desperately tries to not let a single sound fall off of her lips. Rafayel’s voice was low, “You're clenching me so tightly baby. Ha… what a dirty girl, taking my cock like this out in the open. You love this, don’t you?” 

A whimper escaped from her throat as Rafayel slammed his hips forward fast and deep into her dripping, clinging heat. He noticed the way her breath quickened, her face etched in a fucked-out expression, losing herself to the overwhelming pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering wildly as he drove her closer to the edge. 

Rafayel withdrew from fondling her breasts and gripped her face, turning her towards him as his lips met hers in a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he fucked her towards her release. “Come for me, you can do it. Come one more time for me on my cock.” He murmured against her lips, feeling his orgasm nearing.

He felt her body stiffened, coming undone as he drowned out all her cries with a wet, sensual kiss. Rafayel grunted, his hips stuttering and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her soaked cunt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he pumped her full with his seed. Rafayel pulled away and panted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a sheen of sweat trickling down from their coupling. He gazed at her with adoring eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly pulled out of her cum-filled cunt. Rafayel tugged the panties to the center of her clit, covering her as she caught her breath. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel scooped her into his arms around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her eyes shut closed, her mind dancing around cloud nine from the intensity of it all.  

“Let’s go home, my love.” He said softly as he made his way towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares and ogles from the people in the exhibition. When Thomas tried to question him, Rafayel dismissed him and continued to walk to his car, gently putting her down onto the passenger seat.

Once they were home, Rafayel put on a bath and scrubbed her clean with much affection. Afterwards, he prepared dinner and cuddled her, staring down at her peaceful expression as she slumber. 

“I love you, my treasure.” He spoke quietly, kissing her forehead before falling asleep with his lover in his arms. 

[adamsrcnan]

honestly i think it's a little redundant to write any think pieces on what jean's endgame ship will be. it's going to be jerejean whether you like it or not. that's the story nora is writing. she said it herself when she announced it. this story is a love story but it's also a story about jean and his journey to recovery (and just because jeremy is the future love interest that doesn't diminish the importance kevin has on jean's life either. jean's feelings for kevin are very much still there but so is the betrayal and hurt of him leaving him in the nest. it's a very convoluted relationship of which we still don't know much about. only what jean has told us, so far. as the man who believes his feelings have not been reciprocated to the same degree, mind you. like, we still have two more books to go, one with more scenes with kevin in them where we will learn more.).

as for jeremy...lmao. have we not been talking about how little we know of him since the book dropped? and now all of a sudden people are claiming to know everything about him and decided he's no good? based on one book? and for some reason because he isn't handling his new traumatised teammate perfectly like a professional with a psychology degree he's somehow not right for jean? since when has anyone in this universe been perfect? or dealt with trauma professionally and perfectly?

do i think it's right that jeremy crossed some boundaries to get some answers about jean's past? no. do i think it's right that he overshared jean's truths to his friends without his permission? fuck no. but we're dealing with a whole different group of people here, most of which have not been traumatised to the level the foxes had been. who are not used to dealing with people like jean. jeremy has his own issues yet to be revealed, he clearly has problems standing up to his family (as seen with his sister), though he has no issue captaining his team (as seen with lucas) and it's suspect that he also doesn't think himself to be as great of a person as everyone else does given the sad look on his face when jean tells him he could never be anyone's villain. so idk why anyone thinks they know anything about him when he's so cagey in his own pov. and nowhere in that, may i add, has he ever implied he wants to "fix" jean. he wants to help him. he wants to give him reasons to enjoy his life now that he can i.e making him take that silly ceramics class for Fun. and given jean has had his whole life centred around exy (which he doesn't even enjoy anymore) i think it's actually very smart and helpful to get him doing things that "don't matter" so that he can learn from it and learn that he can actually live outside exy. that he can make mistakes and be imperfect at something and that's Okay.

at this moment in time in canon, kevin doesn't have that kind of mindset and it's probably because he was allowed the freedom to already pursue an interest outside of exy - his love of history. like are we missing the detail that he begged tetsuji to let him take that as his major and he actually allowed it? kevin, though still has a long way to go, still has something outside of exy he can hold onto and switch off from. jean doesn't have that and jeremy just so happens to come along and give him the option and for some reason that seems to get ignored. i think it's actually one of the most important things about their relationship so far. jeremy still makes all the accommodations jean needs - setting him up with class partners, taking him for a run when he needs to get out of his head, buying a bed to sleep in the room with him. but he also pushes back and insists jean try something to break him out of his unhealthy relationship with exy.

also, hello, jean literally admits to himself it's a Lie when he tells jeremy he doesn't want him to look if it's too much for him to deal with when jean is attacked by grayson. and jeremy refuses to look away. something everyone around jean has done since he was born, probably.

"Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” “I do not want you to look.” It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it..."

jean appreciates when jeremy is so very obviously attracted to jean and openly staring, but doesn't press and removes himself from the situation if he thinks he may come on too strong.

"Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth. He needed to see the easy way Jeremy ceded Jean’s space to him. Jean couldn’t remember the last time someone allowed him any boundaries, and the feeling was as novel as it was addicting."

hello???? that is literally jean himself telling us jeremy just allowed him a boundary. how does that get looked over?

also he's content enough with jeremy in his space that he feels safe enough to almost drift off

"In the quiet he could hear Jeremy breathing, and it was almost as comforting as the heat of another body this close to his. It thawed the parts of him the sun hadn’t reached despite soaking up its glare all day. Jean closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift far away. [...] This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could."

mind you right after this jeremy presses that jean should have his own space and jean insists jeremy share with him and get his own bed. and let's not forget the obvious flirting that has jeremy immediately backtracking and telling jean to let him know if he ever makes him uncomfortable.

ALSO THIS

“Stop asking,” Jean said. “You only think you want these answers.”

jean may find it annoying and unfavourable that jeremy keeps pressing but idk i infer this to be more of jean not knowing how to handle someone actually giving a fuck about what was done to him when he was so used to everyone turning a blind eye.

finally (bc this is getting long) jeremy pushes himself into jean's space when he hugs him, and jean doesn't hug him back but he doesn't push him away either and jeremy is the one who has to wait for jean to let go of his shirt so he can move away.

"Jeremy heard the dismissal in it, but he waited for Jean to let go of his shirt before leaving the room."

i have made a post about this before but jean craves attention and affection, he wants to be loved and to be frank he fucking deserves it more than anyone else does.

i'll finish the post with one last line from jeremy's pov...

"...it wasn't his place to interfere with Jean's trauma or his healing."

jeremy isn't perfect, he's not meant to be.

[bloomzone]

Protecting Your peace as a student ㅤ۫ 🧁ㅤ ⊹

Do you ever feel like you’re constantly saying yes to things you don’t really want to do? Maybe it’s agreeing to group study sessions when you know you work better alone, or letting someone borrow your notes even though you’re not comfortable sharing them. You end up feeling drained, overworked, and disconnected from yourself. Dw pookie cuz same but let me teach you how fix this !

📋—The topics today are : how to set boundaries as a student, say no without feeling guilty, and most importantly, protect your aura because your energy is sacred.

—🧁How to Set Boundaries as a Student

1. Know What’s Non-Negotiable for You

Before you can set boundaries, you need to know your priorities. Ask yourself: What’s most important to me right now? (e.g., studying, rest, mental health)What situations or behaviors make me feel stressed or drained?Once you’re clear on what matters, it becomes easier to decide what you’ll say yes to and what needs a no.

2. Create a Routine and Stick to It

Having a routine helps you manage your time and energy better. For example, set specific hours for studying, breaks, and downtime. If someone asks you to hang out during your study time, you can say, “I’d love to, but I already have something scheduled.”

3. Be Honest and Direct

When setting boundaries, you don’t need to sugarcoat or over-explain. For example:

“I can’t help with your project right now because I have my own deadlines.”

“I’m focusing on my grades, so I won’t be able to hang out as much this month.”

—🧁How to Say No Without Feeling Guilty

Saying no can feel uncomfortable, especially if you’re used to people-pleasing. But here’s the truth: you can’t pour from an empty cup. Here’s how to do it guilt-free:

1. Reframe Your Mindset

Saying no doesn’t mean you’re being mean or selfish. It means you’re respecting yourself. Remind yourself: “By saying no, I’m making space for what truly matters to me.”

2. Use Kind But Firm Language

You can be polite without budging on your boundary. Here are some examples:

“I wish I could help, but I really need to focus on my own tasks.”

“That sounds fun, but I need some downtime after school.”

3. Don’t Over-Explain

The more you explain, the more people think they can negotiate. Keep it short and sweet. For example:

“I can’t today, but thanks for thinking of me.”

The more you practice, the easier it gets.

— 🧁 How to Protect Your Aura ?

Your energy is your power—it’s what keeps you feeling balanced, motivated, and aligned with yourself. Protecting your aura means being intentional about who and what you allow into your space.

1. Limit Time with Negative People

If someone constantly drains your energy or brings negativity into your life, it’s okay to distance yourself. You don’t have to cut them off completely in the same moment, but set limits on how much time and energy you give them.

2. Say No to some bitchies

These are the people who always want something from you—your time, your help, your attention—but give nothing in return. Saying no to them is self-care.

3. Set Emotional Boundaries

Not every problem is yours to solve. If someone tries to unload their stress on you, you can respond with, “I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I don’t have the mental space to help right now.”

4. Create a Calm Space

Whether it’s your desk, your room, or even your bag, keep your space clean and positive. Add things that make you happy—like candles or motivational notes idk maybe start a journal ?? Do any shit that make u feel happy and remove anything that feels heavy or chaotic.

5. Spend Time Alone

Taking time to recharge by yourself helps you reconnect with your inner energy. Use this time to journal, meditate, listen to music, or just breathe.

🧾— last words

You can’t give your best to your studies, friendships, or life if you’re running on empty.So the next time someone asks for your time or energy, pause. Ask yourself: “Does this align with my priorities? Will this drain me or energize me?” And if it’s not a good fit, say no. Protect your peace. Respect your energy. Your aura is sacred—treat it like it is. take care of yourself I'm proud of youuuu

@bloomzone 🕯️

[meteor752]

(To fix a previous typo) Same person who suggested the angst potential for Manwhore!Odysseus here; I also bet Zeus, Poseidon, etc are highly confused why Oddie hangs out with those Greek deities who dont sleep with him alongside not shaming or judging him for doing what he did.

Zeus: am i the problem? Nah, Oddie needs proper Thunder Bringer discipline

Poseidon: why would Oddie hang out with those…delinquents? What do they see in him?

Hades: (sips his tea while reading his newspaper in front of his siblings argumentative shenanigans)

Persephone: …he is a great guy to talk to i'm not gonna lie

Hera: (grumbles in agreement)

--

Telemachus: let me holler you quick yeah? Why do they say you slept with my dad and stuff?

Hermes: (math lady face before realization) you Oddie’s son?

Telemachus: (exasperated) Yes Im Oddie’s Son

Hermes: you talking about Oddie and the beautiful bottom?

Telemachus: YO WHY IS YOU PLAYING AT ME YO

(Hermes later hilariously clarified that they had a sleepover, not any affairs of some sort…maybe idk)

--

Aphrodite: (girl talk) damn Athena, how do you get Oddie to hang out with you more often without sleeping with him?

Athena: idk girl, maybe NOT demanding to use his body is one way. I had to take him to Hestia for therapy seven times today thanks to Ares’ recent…activities

Aphrodite: (grimaces from previous bedtime memories)

--

Hephaestus: (creates double copies of Oddie to help him to hold off Zeus, Poseidon, etc for a while)

--

Artemis: Is my brother Apollo giving you trouble again? Here’s a tree to hide in

Oddie: (thanks her 100 times much to her amused chagrin)

--

Demeter: according to Hestia, farm work is a good source of therapy for Oddie. Have to admit, he is a great employee!

1# Employee of Month photo: (Oddie looks like he’s almost sleep-deprived)

--

Aeolus: (gives Oddie more backup wind to escape if getting chased)

I heavily disagree on the Ares one, actually, because while yes Ares is absolutely attracted to power, he’s also like, very awkward about that sorta stuff. Mans a switch, but he never takes the lead, he’s usually along for the ride

Now Aphrodite on the other hand, she likes to explore in the bedroom, she a freak.

Ares is into it.

Odysseus? Not so much

[candypot]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝗩𝗜𝗟 𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗡𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗧 : relationship headcanons

notes: guess who’s back to serve more big texts and pointless details

He has to be deeply in love with you to get into a relationship in the middle of the process of building his career, so you don’t have to worry about him changing his mind or feelings so easily. Like, chill, your relationship with him is gonna be more firm as the Golden Gate Bridge at the moment he decides he wants you.

Probably doesn’t give you as much attention as he wants to due to his busy schedule, but always make sure to send you pictures of what he’s doing when he’s far from you. Be prepared to receive a whole photoshoot of every minor detail of his day.

Loves to apply make up on you. Sometimes even stop at the corridor just to apply some gloss on your lips (he may apply it with his own lips idk)

Usually is very sweet with his s/o, despise what most would expect he loves to compliment even the minimums details of his s/o body and personality in random moments of the day. Like, he loves you, of course he’ll be your biggest supporter despise the criticism.

Loves to gossip with you, it’s therapeutic and it keeps his day interesting (prepare yourself to hear him curse all the bloodlines of Neige Leblanc)

Will for sure criticize some (changeable) aspects of your looks if he feel like it’s necessary, but don’t worry, he got your back. For example, when he see your hair looks messy he’ll scold you for being so careless while helping you to fix it, it’s almost unethical for him to point your flaws if doesn’t plan to immediately fix it for you. The critical part of it is meant to improve what you already have not to change it, so he’ll never offend your body type or maybe your crooked teeth.

A huge fan of sleepovers. Usually calls you to sleep in his dorm after he’s finished with all the work so the both of you can rest and do skin care routine without worrying about being interrupted or messing with his weekly schedule (but don’t get too funny thinking you can disturb his night routine at any time).

Loves to make you flustered! It’s so adorable seeing you blush and squirm under his gaze after he shower you with his love. (Like the time when he kissed yuu on the cheek)

He has mixed feelings about public display of affection. At the same time he loves to play with your hair and casually fix your clothes and make up, he won’t kiss you in places he consider inappropriate to preserve his respectable facade.

Takes care of you at the point it’s stressing. “Where were you at?” “Why are you so pale?” Did you eat enough?” “Make sure to don’t miss your appointments” “How was your night? Did you sleep well?”

he’s the guru of beauty and you’re his apprentice, so don’t get mad if he decides to randomly brag about beauty tips or techniques for you to try out.

May be a little jealous even though he’s very confident on his looks and on his trust on you. Vil will try to hide it at all costs because the feeling of being insecure is humiliating for him, but it’s kinda noticeable to be honest, like when he started to criticize those random guys that talked to you on lunch for absolutely no reason. (Who’s Regina George next to Vil Schoenheit when he’s feeling jealous?)

Looks tough but it’s super fragile, it will take a while for him to open up to you but when he does you’ll notice he needs more care than he appears to.

Loves to snuggle. It’s wonderful to simply get lost in you soft caresses and scent after a long day of work, but make sure to snuggle just after his skin care routine is done.

[meteortrails]

forever thinking about nami and luffy…. they just. their relationship is so perfectly, consistently, and beautifully written?? (read more bc I care WAY too much about them).

like it would be so easy to slot them into the typical dynamic of her being a buzzkill and him being a reckless dick but that’s not them at all. she’s the first person he meets out on the sea who really, deeply understands what freedom means to him, how vital and important it is - it’s why she’s the one he lets hold and fix his hat, it’s why he waits until she asks him to help with arlong, it’s why he never begrudges her any of her actions in arlong park. he knows her autonomy is just as important to her as his is to him, that she fucking Gets It. she has the same joy and whimsy and protective instinct in her heart, and like recognizes like!!! so luffy lets nami run the day to day of the ship, order him around, hold his greatest treasure in her hands, bc he trusts that when the chips come down she will never abuse that power. she’ll have his back and follow through on whatever insane orders he has his heart set on bc she knows the weight of what she’s been entrusted with.

and like, in return, nami gets exactly as much responsibility as she wants for the first time in her life! she doesn’t have to be alone, doesn’t have to protect everything that matters all on her own - she has luffy and the crew for that now. she gets to be part of a crew, a family, while still remaining in charge of her own life. and in response to all that trust and love, nami is just as protective of luffy and this new home as she ever was of cocoyashi. he gave her back her freedom and put his dream in her hands without a second thought, and she will keep it safe come hell or high fucking water. like I don’t know how to express how emphatically I feel about this but she won’t betray him even to save her own life, even when he would never fucking know!!! nami often ends up being luffy’s primary pillar of emotional support bc she’s just such a consistently steady, faithful presence at his back; even when they disagree on important shit her trust in his judgement and ability to get them through the storm is unshakeable, and vice versa.

idk man I just really do not know how to express how much it matters to me that nami is canonically a ruthless, conniving, deathly stubborn, control freak bitch and that’s like. lowkey WHY luffy+the crew love her so much. idk how to explain how batshit insane the symbolism of her being his navigator and him being her captain makes me.

[peachhcs]

Idk if you've ever written about this but when samy and will get back together when do they tell their friends? Do they tell Ryan and Gabe immediately or keep it lowkey for a while? How do they react?

oo i don't think i have written about this before. i always started to and then i never finished my drafts so i'm glad someone asked about it to remind me :)

considering they get back together in san jose when samy's there helping settle will in, it's pretty easy for them to keep it on the down low and i think they definitely do for a bit and not tell ryan and gabe and all of them. of course though, ryan and gabe are dying to know if they did get back together because they were all really hoping the trip would the couple work out the last of their differences and finally get back together

au masterlist

as soon as samy sat down gabe and ryan were on her immediately and dying to know what happened in san jose. samy and will were purposefully not saying much because they wanted to ease back into telling their friends that they were back together, but boy, were those two persistent.

she went to go see them in boston one more time before everything swept them up, and neither of them wasted any time sitting her down on the couch to talk. none of the other guys were home and wouldn’t be for at least two hours, so the three had a lot of time to talk.

“sooo..” ryan began, eager and curious because will wasn’t saying much to them over text.

“you guys were so nosy,” samy teased with a small eye roll.

“it’s not nosy if we wanna know,” gabe said and that made the girl raise her eyebrow because she didn’t even know what that meant.

“come on, just tell us,” ryan urged, quite literally on the edge of his seat.

“yes, we got back together,” the brunette finally said which made both of the boys jump up in joy.

“i knew it! i knew it! i knew you’d get back together!” gabe pointed a finger and reveled in predicting that the trip would fix everything.

“how’d it happen? did he talk you up? did you guys have like..make up sex?” the two boys snickered like they were 12 and sharing secrets. samy rolled her eyes again.

“he just..asked me to dinner and i said yes and then we talked some more and then it kind of led to us..kissing back at his place..and yeah..maybe some..other stuff,” the soccer player flushed a deep crimson.

“aww, look at you two go! i knew it’d all work out,” gabe nudged her arm with a smile that his friends were no longer fighting anymore.

“we’re still..working things out but yeah. it feels nice,” samy agreed.

“well, yeah. it’s gonna take awhile to build back up to where you were, but at least it’s a start. you guys know where you stand with one another. i’m happy for you for you guys,” ryan grinned.

“and if he ever pulls that shit again, we’ll knock some sense into him, don’t worry,” gabe added making the girl giggle.

“it’s like i’m happy and scared at the same time, does that make sense? or is that stupid? i’m happy we’re back together, but i guess i’m still scared it’s gonna all fall apart again,” samy bit her lip as her ruminating set in again. she ruminated the entire plane ride back which definitely wasn’t healthy, but she couldn’t really help the other side of the what ifs.

“it’s not stupid. you’re valid for having fears still. he broke your trust and your heart. that’s not something that can just be like forgotten. it’s gonna be a long road, but will really wants this to work again and i know you do too,” ryan quickly reassured and gabe nodded in agreement.

“the whole distance thing literally sucks because it’s like..we spent freshman year in long distance and the summer we get to finally actually be together we break up and now we’re back to doing long distance without any time to like really be together, you know?” now samy was just rambling at this point.

“long distance is not easy, but i also think it helps you both grow as people outside of one another and the relationship. plus, we’re always here too if you need anything. not in michigan, but boston is a lot closer than california and you know we’d drop everything for you if you did need it,” ryan continued and samy’s heart warmed hearing them say that.

“yeah, we got your back, hughesy, don’t worry. and no we’re not just saying this because you’re will’s girlfriend, like we actually mean it. you’re our friend too and we care about you,” gabe said. the youngest hughes flushed and wondered how she met hockey boys like this.

[getasbf]

OMGGG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS the lack of geta x male reader (and gn reader let’s be honest…) is killing me aouuu

would you possibly write for a geta x childhood friend reader? Like they could be chilling then one of them is like “wait…I have feelings for him??” And then shenanigans ensue. Idk you could add plot and stuff I’m just spitballing lol. Feel free to change stuff around cuz honestly I’ll take anything!! 🩷

Whispers of Eternity | Emperor Geta x male!reader

Pairing: Emperor Geta x male!reader [childhood friends]

Summary: You discover that the meaning of love was always in front of you and you were just too confused about how to categorize it.

Notes: I’VE BEEN WAITING THIS MOMENTO TOO. My first OS in, actually, YEARS, i wish it’s not that bad. English is not my firts language. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Reader can be Acacius lil brother if you want, that information is not that deep or important. No content warning.

Word count: 1.3k

Love. One word, four syllables. The meaning can vary greatly, it all depends on the person, the type of relationship, the past and present with the person.

You always felt all the word, except in one specific area: romantic. It wasn't something that bothered you, nor did it matter much to you. You had your best friend and that was the only thing that mattered to you. But you grew up and understood that what you had felt for your best friend all your life was not friendship.

You felt true friendship whenever you saw his brother: Caracalla. When you played together you always had a good time with him, without any kind of upset in your stomach. Something that always happened to you when you were with Geta.

You could say that he stole your heart instantly since you met when you both were kids.

Right now you were watching him, you were sitting on some stairs out of sight of anyone, with the little privacy that being in a palace could give you.

He had his elbows resting on his knees, talking about something while looking ahead, feeling somewhat animated. You, on the other hand, had your elbows resting on the staircase and had your gaze fixed on him.

You carefully observed the way his lips moved, the small gestures he made with his hands to give a little emphasis to his explanation.

He realized that you were not answering his questions and he turned slightly annoyed for not getting your answer, he thought you were ignoring him. Your eyes met and stayed there for seconds, but it seemed like hours, even days.

"Why don't you answer me?" He spoke, staring at you.

God, how could you never notice the way his eyes looked at you was so unique? It made your heart skip a beat, creating a tickling sensation around your entire stomach and rising up to your chest.

“I like you.” The words slid off your tongue sweetly and reached his ears in the form of a melody. One he wanted to hear for the rest of his days.

They stayed silent, neither of them saying anything and their gazes never leaving each other’s. It felt like being in hell and heaven at the same time. It felt like being alive.

“I like you too.” The corner of his lips curved into a small smile, just as your expression lightened, causing the tension that neither of you knew had been there to go away.

Everything felt lighter now, and being alone felt more intimate than ever before.

☆

The two of you walked through the palace at a fast pace, giggling here and there. Holding hands and hiding, so that no one would see you. You came to a small intersection where there were three possible hallways. You both shared a look and Geta quickly yanked your hand away to start running again, this time to his chambers.

When you reached his chambers, you two abruptly lay down on Geta's bed and began to laugh uncontrollably. The laughter echoed off the walls, but it didn't matter. At that moment, the outside world seemed as distant as the stars.

Lying next to each other, you tried to calm your breathing as your eyes went to the ceiling, although you couldn't help but look away from it and look at Geta. He had his eyes closed, with a peaceful expression that he rarely showed in public. In the palace, he always carried the burden of being watched, analyzed, and judged, but here, in the privacy of his room, he seemed different. More human. More... yours.

He turned to you suddenly, catching you staring again. He smiled mischievously, that smile that seemed made to disarm you.

"What?" he asked softly, though his eyes shone with more than just curiosity.

"It's just..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't know how to express what you felt without making it seem insignificant or exaggerated.

He waited, his hand reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers naturally. That action gave you the courage to continue.

"It's just... being here with you feels good. More than good, actually. It's like everything else fades away, like nothing else matters."

"I'm afraid of growing up and having to be apart. I don't want to follow Father's wishes. I hate that he forces me to be a general like my brother…"

Geta didn't say anything at first, he just stared at you, with a mix of tenderness and something that seemed like pride. "You're really bad at keeping things to yourself, you know? But that's something I like about you. You've always been honest with me."

His thumb began to trace slow circles over the back of your hand, and although his gesture was gentle, you felt it light a fire inside you.

"I'll always be honest with you, Geta," you promised quietly.

He nodded, as if that statement was enough to sustain everything you were secretly building. Then, unexpectedly, he moved closer, his lips brushing yours so gently that you almost wondered if it had been real.

But there was no doubt. It had been real. His kiss, brief and full of promise, was enough to make you forget the entire world.

"Promise me something," he whispered, barely pulling away enough to speak.

"Anything."

"No matter what happens out there..." Geta nodded, indicating the doors that separated his world from the others, "we'll always be together in here."

You stared at him, your heart beating so hard it almost hurt. "I promise."

That moment was etched in your memory like a silent pact, an alliance that no palace intrigue could break.

From then on, laughter, furtive touches, and stolen kisses became your refuge, a spark of love that burned brighter in the shadows of power.

☆

The years passed, and although life in the palace was not easy, your bond remained. There were moments of tension, danger, doubt, but you always returned to each other, as if gravity itself united you.

Geta and his brother ascended to the throne, carrying the responsibilities of an empire on their shoulders, and you were at their side. Though, to be honest, you were always more at Geta's side, not as an official advisor, but as the invisible pillar that held him up in the moments of greatest uncertainty. In public, you were close allies; in private, you were two souls intertwined, sharing a love that neither power nor time could erode.

One night, in one of those strange moments when you could be alone, you found each other in the palace gardens. The stars shone brightly above you, and the air carried with it the scent of night flowers. The night was perfect, one where the wind blew just to make the landscape more beautiful. Geta took your hand, just like he did when you were teenagers, and looked at you with the same intensity as the first time you confessed your feelings.

"If I were born again," he said quietly, "I would look for you in any life, anywhere. It will always be you."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth. "And I will find you, no matter how many times it takes."

The two of you drew closer, sealing your promise with a kiss beneath the endless sky. It was a love that had begun with furtive giggles and shy glances in your teens, and had now grown into an eternal bond, something that no emperor, enemy, or fate could break.

Geta was so much more than an emperor, and you were so much more than his lover. You were proof that even in a world ruled by power and politics, true love could flourish and endure.

Together, you faced life's challenges, knowing that as long as you had each other, there was no battle you couldn't win.

[vamp0rivm]

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch.3 - 18+

cw: smut below the cut, mdni, cunnilingus LOOOOOOL, fingering, tribbing… but, like, some dirty talk 😥 idk ppl… idk… still got like three chapters left 🐺 proofread but not very well cuz i’m gonna fall asleep

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 4

ch. 5

ch. 6

If you squint hard enough--

“Yep, it’s fixing up pretty nice, kid.”

-- you can just about make out the flecks of dust flickering in the influx of honeyed light through your windows.

“Not swollen anymore.”

And you can watch them flutter gently in mid-air, never quite meeting the ground.

You could watch them forever. Just sitting here, just like this, just like them, basking in the gentle warmth of the sunlight, the hazy sound of the nurse woman’s voice, suspended in the incessant grip of your pathetic melancholy.

“You should be fine to be back up on your feet now. Should try getting some fresh air soon.”

Her voice comes back into focus immediately.

There are stages to grief – so they say. But, to you, it feels more like a whirlpool of every emotion you’ve ever felt that you’ve been stuck in for what seems like forever, only growing in ferocity as time passes.

Been stuck in the same stage for a while. Been feeling like some external force has just been dragging your body to places day to day, not fully aware of what’s going on around you. And, as you said, soon as you can walk again, you’re out of here.

Are you even allowed to grieve a person you slaughtered?

“Yeah. Will do.”

That’s the signal. A week or so and you’ll be gone.

Do you have a plan? Do you need one? It’s not like you’re running away. You’re leaving – just, without telling anyone. You’ll just pack your shit and… go… where?

Roam?

It’s morning, the light that follows the storm-ridden, long, harsh hours of night, and the eery stillness of the snow blankets the earth now, though it was once pummelling towards the ground in malignant winds.

Ellie had woken up before you, and quickly ensured that wasn’t an issue by seemingly putting all her power into each step she took and object she lifted and aggressive sniffle or violent coughing.

What a pleasant way to wake up.

She quickly rushed off to the stables, thanking you for letting her stay the night, and once she was gone, you realised that there was an odd air of domesticity in your interactions now. You weren’t sure how to feel, so you sat in silence for a moment, until a knock interrupted your thoughts.

Without a lock to keep the pests out, the nurse woman quickly ended up inside your house, nagging you about your refusal to open the door as she looked at your ankle.

Everything happens for a reason, you suppose, since you came to the realisation that there was nothing binding you to this place any longer.

A few minutes pass, moments obscured by the depth at which you sank into your thoughts, and the nurse is helping you lull your trembling left leg into taking a step forward, when a harsh gust of icy wind envelops your skin. The door slams shut.

Ellie seems to be fond of making annoying entrances when it comes to you.

You inspect her movements curiously as she shakes the snow off her boots from over your shoulder, wondering why she’s back but not feeling even a sliver of disdain.

Eventually, she looks up to meet the pair of you’s eyes and clears her throat bringing her gloved hand to the nape of her neck to scratch.

“Hey,” she breathes out, to which you nod before carrying on with your miserable attempt at walking again, though you’re tentative to Ellie’s every movement from behind you.

The sound of that familiar creak tells you she’s sat down on your shitty mattress, and a small sniffle tells you… well, nothing.

You try to turn your focus back to the nurse woman whose eyes are trained on your leg, a smile gracing her lips when you make it back to the bed smoothly.

“There. You’re all set, kid, just keep it moving and you’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ll come check up on you in a day or two, alright? I’ll, uh… leave you two be, then.”

You hum half-heartedly, still slightly cotton-minded, watching her leave and the door close before you turn to look at Ellie looking back up at you.

“You’re back?”

With a mischievous smirk, she reveals a small jar from the side pocket of her threadbare backpack, stuffed with pure weed,

“Yeah. Thought you might want some of this.”

You take a seat beside Ellie, her eyes lingering on your every movement before you look up and meet her gaze.

“Where’d you even get that?”

“Hmm, I’ll show you next time we’re together on patrol. Here, take this.”

She hands you a blunt and you look over it cautiously, trying to mask your lack of experience and simultaneously ignore the blush of your cheeks induced by Ellie’s somehow sustained smirk.

She takes a lighter from her pocket and brings it to the tip as you hold it between your pursed lips, silently beckoning you to go ahead.

The warmth fills your chest; a pleasant wave of tingles overcomes you, like your insides turning to fuzz, and you let go, watching the smoke dance upwards and dissipate in the air separating you from Ellie.

You pass it to her, taking note of the way her lips wrap around the same place yours did moments before while your high already settles in.

Lightweight.

Maybe that’s why her eyes seem to pierce with excruciating intensity now. You look down instead and toy with the frayed end of your tattered jeans.

“You know what I realised?” she murmurs, taking another puff before continuing,

“You’ve been here for, what, half a year now?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s… actually kind of a long time. But you still act the same as you did when you first arrived.”

“Do I?”

Ellie breathes out and passes you the blunt, nodding. Your eyes don’t leave her lips.

“Yeah. Still… you know.”

“Yeah, well… I just don’t really get along with those people.”

“Those people?”

You look up and Ellie’s got a shit-eating grin plastered across her face as you jump to your own defence.

“Woooooooooo-”

“Wha- I- I didn’t mean it like that!”

“-ooooooooooo-”

Her voice is muffled by the contact of her face with the pillow you bombard her with.

“Ow! Fucking… Asshole.”

You chuckle, taking a long drag before muttering, your voice barely above a rasp,

“Bet you don’t like that, huh?”

The mattress shifts beside you as Ellie moves closer. You don’t look, but you can hear the playfulness in her words.

“Yeah, actually, I don’t.”

Silence overwhelms the room, the slow infiltration of hot smoke which now lays thick in the air rendering you too fuzzy to speak. Your fingers brush Ellie’s calloused ones as you pass her the blunt, dragging your dilated eyes to look into hers, still appearing somewhat sober.

“You dont mean that about me though, right?”

“Hm?”

“You know… The thing you said before. That you just don’t really get along with most of the people here. Cuz we get along pretty fucking well.”

Before you can hide it, you face breaks out into a grin,

“Why, would it really upset you if I meant you too?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

There’s a gentle buzzing in your chest that develops into wholehearted laughter before you realise it, contagious to Ellie, whose own lips give up trying to repress the smile playing on them now.

“I just mean… I know there’s not many people… as awesome and cool as me here, one could say, but-” she continues before you cut her off,

“-Butt-”

“-But, I don’t know, we’re kind of friends, right?”

“… One could say.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

Now, your heart’s racing and there’s a growing ache nestled between your legs, because the sight of Ellie’s own legs spread as she falls back to lean against the wall is not for the weak.

And you… You are weak.

“Unless you keep looking at me like that.” Her words rip through the warmth of the silence so you realise you had gone silent as you shamelessly stared.

“What?”

“You’re staring. Think you got a little something there too,” she leans in to wipe the imaginary drool at the corner of your lip but you sluggishly swat her hand away.

“Fuck off, I do not. And I am not.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Suddenly, the way her eyelids lay heavy over her forest green eyes, scleras tinged pink, becomes almost hypnotic, addictive.

“Yeah.”

So much so that you almost choke on your words.

“I think you are.”

Like you’re going to suffocate, unable to inhale steadily as she leans closer for the billionth time, clearly searching for the same relief you are, and her breath gently fans your lips.

“Think you’ve been staring for a while…

Think you want something real bad, huh?”

That pounding heartbeat, the shaking of your hands, this feeling is akin to fear. It’s almost terrifying how bad you want it, so you turn away and bring the blunt to your mouth again, forcing her to watch you breathe the hot air into her anticipating, flushed face. She closes her eyes, and then opens them, to see you looking right back with parted lips.

Finally, she places a gentle touch to your cheek, gracefully wrapping her other hand’s fingers around the weed in yours and flicking it into the nonexistent world surrounding you carelessly, closing the distance between the two of you once and for all.

There is a gentle sickness in the wetness with which your tongues dance against each other, and it is exhilarating in a way that makes you forget everything; in a way that makes the only thing echoing in your mind the intoxicating sound of lips smacking and Ellie’s deep groans into you, warm saliva coating the skin around your mouth.

For once, there is no reluctance in the intimacy you provide, and it has proven to be the most effective antidote to your problems yet.

Amid the rapacity, Ellie’s lips wonder further, engulfing the skin beyond, that which is your jaw, up to your flushed earlobes, and it’s so near, so tender, that it overwhelms your brain, heightening your high to unchartered altitudes. You can hear her every movement and every moan - feel it stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before, as her hands roam across the expanse of your body and settle on your tits before gently circling your nipples so that your hips buck into her shamelessly.

Ellie takes note of your sensitivity, half-lidded eyes looking into yours drunkenly as she makes her way to your chest, gliding her tongue around your raised nipple and gently pulling on the other. Your body is like a furnace, aching for her with ferocity. She knows; she burns just as bright.

Ellie’s hungry, desperate to taste you, to indulge in every drop of your flavour and savour it. So she’s sucking on your tit with such fervour, leaving a trail of spit as she wraps her lips around the other, that you find yourself pushed back against the pillows, yearning to just rip the fabric of the shirt that still rests at your collarbone right off of you.

Instead you lay still, letting the overcoming take you, and watch her with fascination, raking shaky fingers into her bound, auburn locks.

She moans into your skin at the touch and you can feel it in your pussy, the way it drips for her. Lucky for it, she makes her way down, one hand still groping desirously at your tit, the other ghosting over the waistband of your pants subconsciously. God, you need it, a thousand times over and then a million over again.

Ellie’s at your hipbone, infuriatingly close to where you need her, and you’re trembling with anticipation, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Fuck… take ‘em off…”

She smirks up at you dazedly, and you resist the urge to shove her head back into you,

“You want me?”

“Yes, fuck… Ellie, please.”

She hooks her fingers into your belt loops and pulls them down without further question, dragging your underwear down too, almost fast enough to not notice the wet spot in them.

Almost.

Her relishing the sight of the fat jiggling as her hand slaps your tit and you jerking forward juxtaposes the lazy kiss she presses to your swollen clit, hands moving to your thighs as she pulls you closer.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot.”

Gently sucking the bud into her plump lips pushes a breathy moan out of you in grateful relief and, as you grind against her tongue, she runs the tip of it teasingly up your weeping slit so that you’re reduced to a picturesque masterpiece of nothingness above her, with your head thrown back and your mouth hanging open, sweet whimpers trailing out, and your glistening chest displayed beautifully.

And the way you rut your cunt up against her, aching to feel her tongue deeper, aching to have her inside, makes her thrust against the pillow like a dog in heat for some semblance of relief, friction. You want to be the one to give it to her. Each husky groan pushes you further, the vibrations against your cunt sending you to heaven and back.

Ellie’s mouth is the fucking greatest, the swirl and suck a godsend to your clouded mind, with its focus streamlined to your pussy, so you moan deafeningly when two rough fingers slip into you and pump in and out of your viscous walls rapidly.

The sound of her slurping fills the room, and it is filthy, pornographic, but you’re moaning and twitching against her regardless, your pussy clenching tight for her, squeezing and pulling in her digits ravenously.

Soon, embarrassingly soon, your hips jerk, overwhelmed with delicious, warm ripples of pleasure throughout your body, and your eyes roll back as you tense and cum in her mouth for what seems like forever, but she holds you down, her lips and fingers never letting up.

Your sweaty figure is hunching over, stomach tensed and caving in, resisting the stimulation to your sensitive clit, with the hand laced through her hair now pushing her away despite the fact that you love it. Her eyes are closed and she’s wholly immersed in your essence and your whimpers, lapping at the slick pouring out of your pussy greedily with a gentle shake of her head between your quivering thighs.

A moan of your name and she’s up, humming in devious satisfaction, and giving your fucked out face a pussydrunk grin, your milky cum painting the lower half of her face so it glistens stunningly.

She shoves her fingers into your open mouth, muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” through laboured breaths as you suck on them, tasting yourself. Before she can go back in, pulling them away, you reach out to her desperately and smash her lips against yours again, pussy throbbing simply because she exists, as she lets out a small noise in shock but quickly moves in tune with you.

Between breaths, you help her take her clothes off, hugging her to your exposed chest, your heart pounding readily. There’s nothing you want more than to feel every inch of her on you completely, and the feeling of her hugging you back with just as much hunger makes you hot.

Slowly, you watch the string of slick connecting her pussy to her underwear dwindle as you pull them further down her legs, listening to the sound of her panting loud into your ear, and feeling her hair gently grazing your flushed cheeks.

Ellie pushes your left leg up and slots her cunt against yours so you can feel her hot skin moulding with yours, throwing her head back at the obscenity of the squelching noise it creates.

“Fuck, baby, it’s so wet, you’re so wet, all mine,”

“Ellie, oh my god.”

Slow movements turn into feverish humping, the sound of your wet cunts slapping each other reverberating and she leans over and places her forehead, wisps of hair stuck to it via droplets of sex sweat, against yours, breath fanning your lips. You strain to push yourself up for a second and peck her lips which she leans into quickly, like she’s been waiting for it.

You can feel your climax building up, intensified by the sight and all consuming sensation of her ramming into you, and the quiet whispers of,

“Fuck, love your pussy so much, gonna fuck you so good, mmmh, ‘s all mine, gonna fuck you senseless”

She keeps going, and you can feel everything so much clearer than you ever have before, each squelch and pull, panting into each other like you’re tempting each other to kiss each other again and she gives in, with the grip she has on your thigh concentrating.

It’s so graphic, so dirty and desperate, and you can’t help but give into the the feeling of the coil tightening in your stomach before snapping completely, your cum splattering over Ellie’s viscid thighs because she’s close and avid, eager to cum on you.

She can feel it building up as she grinds against you tenaciously, watching you writhe beneath her. Ellie moans gutturally , fingertips digging into your hips and the plush fat of your ass to hold you in place as she gets herself off,

“Fuckin’ take it, baby, know you can, gonna c-cum-”

“Yes, Ellie, oh my fucking-”

“-Fuck, gonna cum all over you, an’ you’re gonna fucking take it, yeah, mm-”

One last time and her hips are stuttering against yours before she collapses on you, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths into each other harmoniously.

The contact of your clammy skin against hers is comforting, and you lay there until the heat of sex settles and the potent scent of weed dissipates, and is replaced by the cold bite of the winter air that weasels its way into your room once more.

Until it starts to feel cold.

And then the fog clears and your mind spirals down from the passing high, opening the guilt’s floodgates. There is nothing you can do to calm the storm gathering in the confines of your rib cage; you clutch the sheets for stability.

Not even the gentle graze of her fingers up and down your arm can relax you, or the warmth of her sigh into the crook of your neck. Though you cannot understand it, there is panic and it is omnipotent.

Then Ellie’s movements halt abruptly and she jerks up from the bed,

“Fuck, oh my god, I completely forgot,” she jumps up, and you watch her get dressed in a flurry of fabrics, just as loud as the last time she got ready here.

You can’t focus; your chest feels tight and you’ve done something very, very bad but you don’t quite know what. Somehow, you manage to make out from what she tells you before rushing off and abandoning you in your resounding culpability, that there is a small get together at The Tipsy Bison tonight that she promised to help out with and that you are invited.

Lucky you!

She makes her way back to you on her way out, and you can tell she’s unsure how to approach you when you recall it, though in the moment your mind is swarming with wasps and you cannot form a coherent thought.

She pulls your shirt down over your tits and places a somewhat insecure kiss to your cheek, mumbling, “See you,” with a small smile, and then she’s on her way.

…

You sit up and stare at the floor in the silence, trying to swallow; the guilt, and the confusion. It’s painful to not understand, rummaging through the contents of your brain to make sense of that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, but for some reason you can’t find anything logical and, yet, you stop thinking you fucked up.

It hits you, and you throw your clenched fists over your eyes, rubbing furiously and desperately, the thought of you getting fucked like a dumbass while Soren lies dead miles away up north. You have no right.

It’s raw and visceral: your gasping for air and dry sobs, no tears coming up because you’ve been all cried out for a while. You just feel choked up, empty, and nauseous.

Still hyperventilating, you practically hurl yourself across the room to your bag, pathetically grabbing shit with shaky fingertips and shoving it in.

It’s time to go. Away from the people. Away from the noise. Away from the tumult. Away from any reminder of the joy you do not deserve.

an - this one’s long as fuck… i feel like i decay when i write smut, IVE BEEN AVOIDING STUDYING, DOING WORK, AND GETTING READY FOR A WEDDING BY WRITING THIS, creds to cafekitsune for dividers

[yourreliablenarrator]

“Displeasure”

⇢ Leon Scott Kennedy x Fem reader

[Contains: Profanity, some suggestiveness, drinking (mostly wine and whiskey), this is Leon from RE4R (after the mission with Ashley).]

Trope: Enemies to lovers(?).

Word Count: Idk (I’M SORRY Y’ALL 💀)

Note: This is my ever first attempt to make a small, little one-shot. Of course, there are going to be some errors and mistakes in my work, and it’s been a while since I last wrote something. This also my first time writing and posting it public, so I am both nervous and excited all at the same time! <3

P.S.: Also, if you have any criticism or concerns about what I write or how I wrote in this oneshot, please don’t hesitate! I really don’t mind any criticism since that will help me to write better and more efficient! Thank you so much!

(Edit (7/22/24): Forgot to mention that I did rush this and I do promise not to do this mistake again since I want for people, like you, to enjoy content like this. 💛)

He couldn't figure out why he agreed to attend this party organized by his colleagues. He wasn't really into parties, unless they offered drinks to help him forget about his own emotions and problems.

The music pumps through his ears as he navigates the crowd. Every sense was bombarded by various stimuli, especially from the partygoers. Nevertheless, he persists in pushing through the throng of people.

All he was going to do was have a few drinks and then leave without uttering a word. Or, well, that's what he planned in his mind, and he hoped not to have any interruptions from any of his coworkers.

As he walked up to the bar, muttering a request to the bartender to give him two shots of whiskey. The man behind the counter only gave Leon a nod in response and walks away to fix him up some glasses.

While he was waiting, more like spacing out, he notices that someone sits next to him. Yet, he decided to pay no attention to them as he keeps his gaze trained to the wood counter.

However, the person’s voice next to him catches his attention.

“Fancy seeing you here, Leon.”

Quickly, he turns to look at the person next to him, only to realize that it was you. Of course it had to be you out of anyone in this building.

You and Leon didn’t have the best relationship with one another. You both bicker and make snarky comments to each other. Every time you teamed up in a mission, you and him always left with the most annoyed look on your faces. No one knows what happens during those missions, but at least you both get the job done.

You were wearing a red, skimpy dress—something to catch his eye and makes his face redden. He almost wanted to look up and down your body and make a flirtatious comment, but he hated you—right?

He lets out a tired scoff, turning away from you the moment he realized that his small cups were already in front of him. He grasps one of the shot-glasses with narrowed eyes, his teeth gritted together.

“What do you want?” He grumbles in a low, displeased tone, taking a quick sip of his whiskey.

“Why do you always think I want something from you?” You responded with another question, he could feel your eyes trailing up and down his body, almost making him want to shiver.

“Because whenever you’re around me with that cocky, little grin, you either want to annoy the hell out of me or you’re that drunk and you want to make out with me.” He explains, which only made you feel more amused.

“Touché,” you mutter with a bigger smile, trying to keep yourself from laughing.

Leon only rolls his eyes in response, taking the last sip from his second shot of whiskey. When he places it down on the counter, his eyes were now on your face, which had a big smile.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle you or kiss you senseless.

“Can you leave me alone?” He asked, adverting his gaze from you once more and looks back at the bartender who gave him a third glass.

“Well, can we talk?” You ask him with a raised brow, leaning your chest against the counter to try and catch his gaze, but it was a futile effort.

”’Bout what?” He asked, looking down at his small cup.

“About us.”

Confused, Leon’s face immediately turned towards yours once more, realizing that you weren’t joking about this. It was slightly surprising since, well, you weren’t exactly a girl that would take anything seriously as much as he does.

“…Like what?” He added, shifting his body so he didn’t have to keep his heard turned while his body was towards the counter.

“Well,” you began, shifting closer to him on your seat, “we’ve accidentally been at each other’s throats ever since we first met. I don’t think that we should… well, y’know, be enemies, I guess?”

“You guess?”

You only shrugged your shoulders in response.

Hesitant, Leon ponders at the prospect at being friends—or at least allies—anytime you both went on missions. It did seem tempting, but he was clearly reluctant since this was so sudden.

“Look,” he began with a sigh, shaking his head. “If it’s just because you want to sleep with me, then I don’t really care about being on good terms with you.”

“Nah,” you answered.

He exhales sharply, gripping at his small shot of whiskey in his grasp.

“Alright,” he answered, turning his gaze back onto the counter in front of him. “Only on one condition: you stop giving me those weird looks like you are right now.”

He doesn’t want to admit, but those “weird looks” were making his heart flutter and his pale cheeks more flushed with color.

“Deal.” You responded before raising your cup up with a smile. “Cheers to a new friendship.”

He scoffs at first, but finally raises his glass before he quickly chugs it like he hasn’t drank anything for a week.

“Damn,” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side. “Calm down, Leon. Does that whiskey even touch your tongue?”

“Yeah, but I don’t give a shit.”

…

Hours passed, most of the people who were here for a good time were starting to leave. Yet, you both were still there on the same seats you were on for the last few hours.

You both were pretty drunk, and Leon usually had a high tolerance to alcohol and could hold in his liquor, but he was probably on his fifth drink of the night besides the first few whiskeys he had at the start of the night.

He was starting to loosen up to you.

Well, he already was, but maybe a bit too comfortable around you.

He was rather a bit touchy when he was drunk, and you didn’t really expect that from him. In all seriousness, most people would assume that he was a sleepy drunk or maybe even an idiot when he was drunk, but not this flirtatious.

Yet, you didn’t really mind this.

It was finally time when you both decided to part ways for the night; or that’s what you planned to.

Just as about you were head to the door, something came over Leon that almost made him want to shout stop and ask you not to leave. Instead of doing that, his subconscious thought immediately went to grasp your wrist. It was firm, but gentle.

When you turned to him, his face was flushed, but you weren’t sure if it was because how much he drank… or if this was something else?

“Hey,” he began in a low, gentle manner.

“Yeah?” You asked with a small grin, trying not to snort at how his words were slurred together.

“Do…” his voice trails off, as if he was afraid of being rejected by you. “Do you wanna come over to my house tonight?”

He was caught off guard by what he just had asked. Yet, he still did it anyways, and now he was holding his breath and waits for your response.

Then, you finally gave him a sweet, sultry smile in the process. You took a small step towards him before pushing your lips against his, pulling him into a passionate, warm kiss.

When you both pulled away, you look at him with a chuckle.

“Sure,” you replied. “Hope you don’t mind staying up late.”

He laughs in response. “Don’t mind.”

He pulls away from you before he takes your hand into his, intertwining your fingers with his. Finally, you both start to leave the party with big, excited grins on your faces.

It seems like neither of you were going to get any sleep tonight.